Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
My mother and I lived in a small shack that smelled like cigarette smoke and cheap perfume.
Every other weekend, my mother drove me to my father’s gate, handed me over to a servant, and drove away.
And the great cold mansion would close around me.
And the dead lived in those doors.
I first saw ghosts when I was five and my hands were clean. A woman on the third-floor landing with her wrists open. A man in the wine cellar with his neck wrong. A little girl who only ever showed me the back of her bleeding head.
I screamed about them until the screaming made my father slap the back of my skull and call me soft, stupid, and broken.
Kenji’s mother, though. . .she always believed what I saw. She always held and comforted me.
I wasn’t sure if Kenji believed me.
But that didn’t matter. . .because no matter what time of night or day I screamed. . .Kenji would come to me, take my hand, and remain there until I calmed down.
“I'm here, Hiro,” he would say. “I'm right here. Whatever you see, it can't have you. I won't let it. You’re my brother, and that’s that.”
Seeing ghosts.
I probably was always crazy. Maybe my father was right, and the world broke me before I had any reason to break. And I didn’t see a damn thing at all. It all could just be in my fucking head.
Or I really did see the ghosts.
Both answers weighed the same in my soul, and both terrified me.
Kenji brought my focus back to him. “We’re going to win.”
“We are.”
“Who the fuck could ever beat us?”
“No one.”
“We stand together. We fight together. We trust each other. And no one, not the Fox or Akiro, can go against us.”
“Correct.” I looked down at our united hands. The knot in my chest loosened, just a little.
“And of course I would take care of your mother and the Claws.” Kenji let go of my hand. The fierce Dragon expression settled back over his face.
The cart kept rolling.
We drove deeper into the island, and everywhere the light touched, I saw even more that we were ready.
Tons of men crouched in the tree line, still as the trunks they hid behind, rifles laid across their knees. These Scales wore oni masks, but plain ones.
Solid red.
Solid black.
Solid grey.
They were hundreds of demons watching the road from the dark. The sight of them crawled up the back of my neck.
Good. Let Akiro's men meet a forest full of nightmares.
A truck idled at a crossroad with its lights dead. A line of islanders moved the other way down a side path, carrying bundles with their heads low as they hurried for the boats.
The last needing to evacuate. Hurry up. I don’t need you all to be ghosts too.
And then. . .suddenly. . .under the cart’s engine. . .I caught a feminine scream.
What?
Yoichi loudly cleared his throat as if he heard it too. And then oddly slowed the cart.
I quirked my brows. “Did you hear that?”
Kenji looked at me. "Hear what?"
Yoichi loudly coughed.
A woman screamed.
I went still and strained against the noise of the night.
Kenji turned to Yoichi. “Why did you slow down? Speed back up. We don’t have time.”
“Sorry. I just have something in my throat.” Yoichi began to loudly cough and clear his throat like a maniac, yet still I caught more screaming and her painfully crying out, "God, no," or "Please."
It’s definitely a woman.
Granted, the scream was a bit muffled.
Thinner this time.
Wait. I know that voice. . .
In fact, I would know it anywhere. Recently, I had built half my sanity around the sound of that voice laughing in the kitchen.
That voice soothing me to healing.
Nyomi.
I dropped my mask and it fell onto the cart’s floor.
Our Tiger is screaming!
Rising, I planted a hand on the cart's rail and fast vaulted upward. The moving vehicle became nothing more than a stepping stone beneath my feet. For an instant, I rode the wind itself. My body twisted through the night air, hair flaring, and then I landed atop the cart's roof. The impact rang through the metal with a sharp clang.
The cart never slowed.
“Hiro, what the fuck?!” Kenji yelled from within the cart. “Get back here!”
“I hear Nyomi.”
Yoichi growled. “Hiro, she’s fine. Get back in the cart.”
“No.” I widened my stance and easily balanced on the roof as the cart sped down the winding path. “How would you know if she is fine?”
“Get back in the cart!” Yoichi growled. “She’s with friends. They will protect her.”
“Then, why is she screaming?” Wind rushed against my clothes, tugging at my shirt and whipping strands of hair across my forehead.
“Screaming?” Kenji’s voice rose. “Are you sure it’s Nyomi?”
“Yes.” I leaned toward the direction I first heard it. The moon spilled silver light across my face and hands, turning my skin cold and ghostlike against the darkness.