The Source of Solace

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, etc. Rumiko Takahashi has that singular privilege. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

THE SOURCE OF SOLACE

Bred as a weapon, and betrayed by her own kind, Sango's true identity was erased by Alteration. But it just left the way open for manipulation by those who would use her for their own ends. Assassination and Love collide in a star-crossing AU universe. K/S I/K

WARNING! Dark imagery and lime, foul language, adult situations and issues.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Our plans have been betrayed.”

“How do you know this?”

The first man did not like the supercilious sneer sported by the second. With thin-lipped anger held tightly in check, he said mysteriously, “We have our ways.”

The indolent youkai lordling did not bother to hide his contempt. “You cannot know everything, ningen.”

At any other time, the master would have wiped that smirk off of the young lord’s youkai features with the sharper end of his dagger. The youkai would have sported a smile of a bloodier kind, across his white neck from pointed ear to pointed ear. But he had not risen to the level of Master Assassin by being swayed by the momentary pleasure of idle revenge. Words, when used correctly, could be as sharp as any blade, and just as wounding.

“You are but a messenger, boy. I do not have to waste my time explaining myself to you. You will advise your MASTER that we are well aware of the problem and have already taken steps to remedy it.”

The youkai seethed, for the dour man’s words had hit home. He was young for his kind, and still foolish enough to resent it being brought to his august attention. “We should have never made pact with such as YOU, ningen!”

The man allowed a faint smile to hover across the corners of his mouth. The foolish brat had given much away with that statement. There had been rumors that their youkai allies were growing restless. The death of the one they sought had taken too long, in their high-and-mighty opinion. The youkai noblesse played their stupid games of honor and intrigue but they were all the same. Impatient savages barely restrained by a crude polish of civility. They could not totally eradicate the bestial brutality of their true natures.

~Filthy animals.~

Perhaps those babbling fools of the Destiny of Man were right. Perhaps it was man’s destiny to rid the universe of the old youkai Lords and seize control over the settled galaxies for themselves. Perhaps it was past time something like that happened. It would certainly make dealing with the universe at large a whole hell of a lot easier, but then again, without the youkai’s bloody games of political intrigue, his organization would frankly be out of a job, and a rather lucrative one at that.

Not all of them were agreed as to whether they should continue to support the old youkai nobility, using their petty little games and squabbles to fill the clan‘s coffers. There were some, not many, who even spoke of breaking away from their more traditional roles, even spoke of taking contracts outside the old, accepted avenues and sources. The dissidents could not conceive how much money those ‘traditional’ contracts brought in, how beneficial the youkai’s bloodthirsty games actually were. They were young and idealistic, prattling on about their tarnished honor and similar such trash.

Still, while both few and foolish, the dissidents were attracting more and more support among the brethren. They were gaining in strength, and division among the Brotherhood’s ranks disturbed the master more than he cared to admit. There was far more at stake than this pathetic little youkai lordling could ever know or even understand.

There were questions being raised in Council even now over the deaths of too many assassins, the disappearance of key operatives, and the growing disquiet among the general ranks. The younger brethren were disenchanted and getting restless. That would have to be curtailed. Too much was at stake to risk discovery. The one and only thing that could make the master wake up in the middle of the night and break out into a cold sweat was the thought that his brothers might discover just exactly what it was he had been up to, and would then turn on him as traitor.

It was a chilling thought. Revenge in the assassin’s guild was not a dish he would ever want served him.

Perhaps it was time to tighten their ranks, and consolidate his power. Even, perhaps, time to seize control. He had to show the undecided and the dithering that it was his faction that stood the strongest within the divided ranks of the Brotherhood of Iynisin…

That was why this particular commission was so important. There had been a lot of quiet grumbling over even listening to the Taiyoukai’s proposition. But it had fit in so nicely with their own plans, and now that Lord Naraku was dead, it was smart to curry favor with some of the other youkai Lords. This Kouga had done enough sneering at traditional youkai privileges and purity---not to mention, superiority---to offend many of those stiff youkai snobs, all who were now snarling for his death.

The master knew fell well that the inu Lord was only taking advantage of the situation. He sought to curry favor of his own, bringing many into his debt, and to thus consolidate his own power among his youkai brethren. The master could easily understand the cold logic behind that inu Lord’s ambitions. What was one sacrifice in the face of many?

The inu Lord could simply let the gossiping whispers abound that it was his half-breed brother’s defection to the wolf clan that had given rise to his righteous wrath and had him seeking the ookami Lord’s death as fitting retribution. Family honor was a touchy subject among the youkai-kind, and many of them would chalk his motives up to such an inane reason. The master knew better.

Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Inu, was one cold, calculating bastard. He had ALLOWED word to slip out that he now sought the ookami’s death. He might have even directed the rumors be started himself among his insipid and insignificant Council of Nine---who were but a pathetic excuse for the humans under his rule to think they actually had a voice in their own governance. Everyone knew how pathetic the lie was, they just never spoke of it.

Yet another demonstration of just how cool a customer that youkai Lord really was. He was a past master in the art of manipulating events and human---or youkai---nature to suit his own aims. He was one cold bastard, and he made the master more nervous than he would ever admit to any of his colleagues. Lord Naraku had been a crass, sadistic demon who had swelled the coffers of the clan with his continual depredations and supercilious claims of offended youkai honor. Sesshoumaru might well do the same, if they played their cards right. A youkai Lord of his growing strength and power always had enemies he would want disposed of in secrecy. A youkai Lord of his discreet nature would wish, no demand, precision in what he would only consider one of his many tools.

The master did not mind being considered a tool, as long as he was paid in good, hard credits for his work. An alliance with the inu Lord could prove most beneficial, to both their futures. That was why the job must be done, the deed preformed, and as quickly as possible. Lord Sesshoumaru did not tolerate incompetence, and if his youkai underlings were getting impatient, the inu Lord might even be considering withdrawing the contract. The winds of fate were always changing, and this day’s enemy might yet be the next day’s ally in the great political Game of the youkai.

Yes. It was past time to see the deed done. Now all he had to do was get rid of this arrogant young puppy and see about upping the ante in this dangerous game…

ooOOooOOooOOoo

Kouga had dreamed of waking up in his woman’s arms, a silly little smile curving across her sweet mouth as he first stirred awake, her sweet caresses welcoming him from slumber into a mutual expression of newly-awakened love…

He did not expect to find his ass shoved right off the bed, to go falling over the edge in an ungraceful tumble of arms and legs, or to have his head yanked back by the expedient rope of his long black hair, the sharp edge of a knife held to his gasping throat, and the woman of his dreams snarling her anger out in a hiss before realizing just who the hell he was.

“Well, ain’t this just cozy.” Inuyasha was all grin as he stepped inside the bedroom, curious about all the noise they had just made.

Kouga wanted to kill him.

“Sango?” Kagome eeped from around her mate’s smug stance.

Blushing furiously, Sango released Kouga with a mumbled apology. Kouga rubbed the back of his neck where the muscles had cramped and looked sour.

“That was a pretty good move.” Inuyasha was highly impressed, the ass.

Thinking it over, Kouga had to agree. Even if he had been on the receiving end of it, his woman’s skill was still quite impressive. Damn, but he knew how to choose well. And Sango seemed so flustered by it, he might just be able to eek out a worthy apology for all the trials and tribulations the taijiya had just put him through.

Adopting a rather piteous expression, Kouga groaned.

“Kouga? Are you okay?” Kagome rushed from her mate’s side to kneel beside him, her expression all that a deceitfully manipulative ookami could wish. He just wished it were HIS woman who was kneeling in front of him, all flustered and concerned, and not Kagome…

Sango was flustered all right, but she had retreated into that damn emotionless mask he hated, though her beautiful brown eyes expressed acute regret and dismayed embarrassment. Sliding from the other side of the large bed, she bowed her head and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Quick as a flash, Kouga was across the bed and sitting in front of her cowed stance. Lifting her chin gently, he said in a rough voice, “Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize. I don’t like it and you don’t need to.” Giving her a fierce scowl, his blue eyes intense, he growled, “Got that?”

They just stared at him, incredulous.

“What?” Kouga glared back with irritation.

“And I thought Inuyasha was dense.” Kagome muttered.

“Hey!” Inuyasha scowled.

“I truly am sorry, Kouga.” Sango said, a wealth of emotion in her soft voice. Her fingers reached out, hesitated for the briefest moment, and then dropped.

At least it was progress.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

She writhed beneath him, clutching his wide shoulders with her long nails as she murmured encouragement in a hoarse voice. The bed with its thick, sumptuous pillows and satin sheets muffled their movements even as she arched against him, seeking the attainment of passion. Crying out, her eyes fluttered closed as red lips opened, tiny fangs appearing amid the perfect, little, white teeth.

A knife glittered in his palm even as he moved with her into the precarious peaks of fulfillment. She was a hot little youkai bitch, she had given him a lot of helpful information and a whole lot of pleasure.

Too bad she had outlived her usefulness.

Green eyes flew open as she felt the cold touch of steel on the side of her neck. She gasped in dawning horror as the point pressed minutely, caressing the perfect, tanned skin.

Ever polite, he whispered softly, blue eyes compassionate, “Sorry, my lady.”

And then he cut her throat.

Withdrawing from the still warm body beneath him, Hojo frowned in distaste at the blood that now covered his dagger. He wiped the smears free from the sharp, silver-blue surface, using the pillow that lay next to the dead youkai’s scattered length of brilliant red hair.

He had some time. He could take a shower, wipe the last of her from off of him, and destroy any evidence he might need to. They were quite alone; Ayame had seen to that. The servants were all dismissed for the night, and that mumbling fool of a grandfather of hers was out somewhere getting drunk with some of his cronies. The old fool was probably bitching right now with his creaky friends about how their ookami overlord had lately been dallying with a disgusting ningen woman down on Kyouko instead of trying to find some more suitable youkai mate.

~How ironic.~

As he slipped into Ayame’s sumptuous shower---everything about and around the luscious female youkai had been sumptuous---he speculated on how the old fart might feel, knowing that his own granddaughter had been dallying lately with a ‘disgusting ningen.’ Ayame had kept their liaisons secret, though, fearing that very taint, even as she had delighted in the naughtiness of it. She had been surprisingly discreet, for once. Too bad she could not have kept their other plans as discreetly…

Her obsession with “fixing that bitch, Sango” had become particularly dangerous for him. Her fixation on the black-haired onna had bordered on the fanatic. It was as if the red-haired youkai thought that by getting rid of her competition, she would be able to easily reclaim the spurious affections of her former love-interest, Kouga.

Her plans had not aligned his aims at all. Hojo knew with certainty that the true target was the wolf-lord, not the girl Sango. He actually had no desire to see that particular onna killed, though if he were ordered to do so, he would not hesitate. Still, he had hoped that they might have been able to work together. True, the girl had fumbled badly on her last mission, which had resulted in the whole team of assassins getting caught and killed, but, hey, everyone was prone to make a mistake from time to time. The full memory-wipe of Identity Alteration as given her by Station Nine would have cleared her make-up of any fatal flaws that might have been missed by the rigorous training given both of them by the Brotherhood of Iynisin. She was one of the elite, a bred taijiya just as he, himself, was.

He was third generation; she but five years removed, was fourth. His skills had been perfected and honed by patient study, hard work, and diligent attention to detail until he was as lethal a weapon as any Master could command. She had been such a weapon, once, as talented if not as durable. He had idly speculated more than once that she might be a fit partner for him, perhaps even a life-partner. With their combined genetic abilities, who knew what talents their children might have, what heights they might reach…

It was a good dream, if but an idle one. One to entertain thought of, but not really to expect. There was just as much chance of using the taijiya as his cooperative tool as there was of her doing the unexpected, and NOT cooperating with his plans, or the fulfillment of his mission.

Which is what had just happened.

He had been advised this morning by his superiors that their initial strategy for getting at the target had just fallen apart. The tool had been compromised, their plans for using the brain-washed taijiya all but over. Somehow, Sango had regained her lost ability to make conscious decisions for herself. She had even begun to act on her own and think for herself. A dangerous prospect when one considered how the Masters had hoped to use her as their unwitting tool to gain access to the ookami clan’s Taiyoukai, and to subvert her will to their own, using her as they would any mechanized weapon, lifeless and unaware of anything but what it was ordered to do…

Hojo doubted that the onna would ever regain full possession of her lost memories. He rather hoped she wouldn’t; because if she did, then she became a liability to the Brotherhood itself. She knew too much, that one. She would not be allowed to live long if there was even a whisper of a doubt that she might remember something vital. She could not be trusted to keep silent, or useful.

Sad, that was what it was. Her future had once been bright, her prospects almost unbelievably limitless. Such talent, such ability…what a waste it all was.

Turning off the gentle spray from the overhead sprinkler, Hojo used the fluffy white towels that bore Ayame’s name in gold-threaded kanji on the corners to dry himself off. Idly combing the wet brown hair back from his forehead with the fingers of one hand, he padded across the sumptuously-appointed room naked. Pulling on the discreet, dark-blue uniform that hid him well enough in the shadows---almost as well as his usual assassin’s black--he carefully sheathed the useful dagger back into his boot before taking a last look around to make sure that everything that might be able to identify him had been confiscated or destroyed. He had already disconnected the security cameras outside the sprawling mansion and sprayed clean any fingerprints that might identify him. There was nothing left to do but say goodbye to the lovely corpse who still stared up at the ceiling in green-eyed shock.

Lifting the quickly chilling hand, he kissed her wrist for the last time. “Farewell, my lady. It HAS been a pleasure.”

He was ever courteous, it was almost his trademark. Dropping the dead youkai’s hand, he turned away. With quick, stealthy movements, he left the elegant room to the stillness of silence.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

A/N: A rather short chapter, considering how many months it has been. It was more to get my feet wet again on this story and start in on some good plot-twists. Now that “Redemption” is finished, I can concentrate on finishing this one, and perhaps, gasp, “The Price of Vengeance”. Yikes. I might be on a roll…

Fate