InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Battle Lines ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

~~Chapter 9~~
~Battle Lines~
 
“Hold out your hands.”
 
Sydnie shot Bas a glare, uttered a low, `hrumph' and turned her attention back to the television screen.
 
He rolled his eyes, wiggling his fingers in a gesture meant to hurry her along. “Don't be stubborn.”
 
She lifted the remote control between her bound hands and flipped through the stations until she found something that suited her: reruns of Friends on Classic Comedy Central.
 
“Knock it off, cat,” he growled, kneeling before her and tugging her hands toward him.
 
Bas turned the tiny key and pulled the cuff away when it sprang open. Sydnie jerked her hand back, cradling it against her chest as he unlocked the second restraint. Grimacing at the bluish red that ringed her slender limbs, he held onto her left hand despite her resolve to pull away. He stifled a sigh. He'd smelled her blood just after they'd entered the Lordsburg, New Mexico city limits and stopped to eat at a small diner just inside town. At least, he'd eaten. She'd refused to let anyone see her bound wrists, and had opted instead to keep her hands in her lap under the table top. The only concession she'd made was to pull her glass of milk close enough so that she could reach the straw. He'd stopped at the first decent hotel he could find after that. Sydnie hadn't deigned to speak a single word to him since she'd announced that she was never speaking to him again. He wasn't sure he wanted to know just why that bothered him, either.
 
Tiny lacerations oozed trace amounts of blood, and she sucked in a sharp breath when he gently rubbed his thumbs over the sensitive skin. `I left them on her too long . . . I should have known she'd never tell me if they hurt her . . . Way too proud for her own damn good . . .' Leaning in close, he licked the wounds, the coppery tinge of her blood drawing a grimace that she—thankfully—didn't see.
 
“B-Bas?” she stammered, trying to jerk her hands away. He held on, concentrating instead on cleaning her wounds on a purely instinctual level. “Wh-what are you doing?
 
Bas blinked and glanced up, realizing a moment too late just what he had been doing. Dropping her wrists as he sat back on his heels, he turned his face away as he fought down an agonizing blush.
 
Sydnie alternated as she rubbed her wrists, her cheeks nearly as pink as his.
 
“You should have told me that they were chafing you,” he grumbled under his breath.
 
She snorted. “I told you they hurt.”
 
Shoving himself off the floor, he stood up and stomped over to his suitcase. “Yeah, you did, in that loud, obnoxious way that meant they really didn't hurt at all—at the time.”
 
He could feel her eyes boring in the back of his skull as he dug through the suitcase for clean clothes.
 
“If you hadn't been yanking me around like some sort of rag doll—”
 
Shaking his head as he stared up at the ceiling, Bas drew a deep breath and tried not to lose his temper. “You were trying to run away!”
 
“And just what was that a minute ago?”
 
“What was what?
 
“You were slobbering all over me!”
 
“That—I—You—I wasn't slobbering!
 
“Oh? Then what would you call it, puppy?”
 
“I was cleaning your wounds!”
 
“Why would you do that?' she hollered, rising on the bed, standing on her knees, arms crossed over her chest.
 
“I haven't a clue!”
 
“You should!”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because you did it to me!”
 
Bas threw his hands up at his sides and stomped toward the bathroom. “I'm taking a shower. If you're not here when I get out, I'll find you, and I'll stick you back in those handcuffs for the rest of the trip, so help me God!”
 
She grabbed a throw pillow off the bed and hurled it at him just as he slammed the door. “Argh!” she bellowed. Bas sighed.
 
He tossed his clothes onto the counter beside the sink and locked the door, wondering why it was that he always seemed to lose every last ounce of common sense he had whenever Sydnie was even remotely close.
 
`You're just upset that you inadvertently hurt her.'
 
`Oh, hell, aren't you dead yet?'
 
His youkai chuckled. `Not by a long shot, Bas. Anyway, it's a set-up.'
 
`A set-up?'
 
`Yeah . . . like a sting operation, and that girl . . . she's the one pulling the strings.'
 
`You make it sound as though she's the puppet master.'
 
`Maybe she is. Bas . . . your father told you, right? You have to be careful . . .'
 
`Careful? I'm being careful.'
 
`She's dangerous.'
 
`I can handle her. She's just a scared little kitty, trapped in a room full of rocking chairs.'
 
`Cute, cute . . . don't say I didn't warn you.'
 
Bas yanked the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, his eyes darkening as he sank down on the lid of the toilet and leaned forward, letting his face fall into his open hands. `She's making me look like a fool,' he fumed, wincing as the image of Sydnie's earnest expression, as her words whispered in his mind.
 
Your shoes are untied . . .”
 
No wonder she didn't ever seem like she was taking him seriously. `Hell, I wouldn't take me seriously,' he thought with a grimace. `Damn it . . .'
 
He'd been trained to fight by the best of the best. He'd started his training with his father, and despite the fact that Cain Zelig wasn't really a fighter at heart, he was certainly no slouch. If push came to shove, he could take care of business. It was simply that Cain chose to try other ways, viewing fighting and violence as absolute last-resort. At nine, Bas had been sent to his grandfather, InuYasha, the hanyou of legend. Gruff and surly, what InuYasha lacked in people skills he more than made up for in his ability to fiercely protect those whom he considered his own. During the summers Bas had spent with his Japanese grandparents, he'd trained with his cousin, Morio and the future Japanese tai-youkai, Mamoruzen—better known as Gunnar—Inutaisho, Bas' second cousin.
 
Gunnar's mother, Sierra was originally from Chicago, and while her husband, Toga had insisted that his successor have a Japanese name, Sierra had complained that Mamoruzen was too difficult for her son to say. She'd started calling him `Gunnar', and so had everyone else. At fifteen, both Gunnar and Bas had started alternating between being trained by Cain and being trained by Sesshoumaru Inutaisho, the current Japanese tai-youkai. It had cemented the friendship that extended beyond simply being second cousins, and the years of training had given Bas the skills necessary to protect himself and to defend his right to be the North American tai-youkai. The thing was, something about Sydnie constantly disarmed him . . .
 
`She's catty . . . she's clever . . . but I don't think she's as much of a fighter as she is an actress.'
 
`An actress, huh?'
 
`Think about it, Bas . . . she's not a murderess; you've said as much yourself, but she's tough, and she's got the art of escaping down to a science.'
 
`Whatever. It doesn't matter. The faster I get her back to Maine, the faster I'll be rid of her.'
 
`Don't forget the other stuff your father said. Someone needs to get the story out of her.'
 
`Yeah? Well, count me out. She hates me, and at the moment, I'm not too fond of her, either.'
 
`That's just your bruised ego talking.'
 
Bas kicked his shoes off and leaned down to tug at his socks. `How do you figure?'
 
`You're irritated because Sydnie didn't like your attention.'
 
`What? That's ridiculous! I don't care about that! I don't even know why I did that!” he blustered, face growing hot at the reminder of what he'd done.
 
`Don't you? Come on, Bas . . . You knew what you were doing on some level.'
 
Standing up to shed his jeans, Bas kicked them off and turned on the shower tap with a vicious jerk. `Dunno what you're talking about.'
 
`Keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday you'll believe it.'
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
Sydnie sank down on the bed, staring at her wrists with a thoughtful frown. A delicious shiver prickled up her spine at the memory of Bas' touch. She didn't understand exactly what it meant, but the languor that seeped into her very bones made her swallow hard as she pressed her wrists to her chest. `Why did he do that?'
 
The stillness of the hotel room was broken only by the dull hiss of the running shower, and Sydnie bit the side of her bottom lip. What was it about Bas the Hunter that spoke to her in a voice so quiet and yet so very powerful at the same time?
 
`He's nothing . . . just the means to an end, right?'
 
`Do you believe that?'
 
She glanced up at the television, and made a face, retrieving the remote control and turning up the volume. `Yes, I do.'
 
`He keeps you on your toes, Sydnie. He does things for you. You might say you're independent and that you don't need anyone, but the fact is, you like that he takes care of you, even if it isn't a permanent thing.'
 
`I don't, and he doesn't. He doesn't do anything but yell at me.'
 
`Oh, and you don't do a thing to deserve that, do you?
 
`That is completely irrelevant. What I do or don't do doesn't matter. Bas is the one who bullied me into coming along with him, and . . .' she trailed off as her frown deepened as she rubbed her wrists again. `Why did he do that?'
 
`I don't know. Why don't you ask him?'
 
Sydnie snorted and scrambled off the bed. `I think I will.'
 
`Sydnie . . . what are you doing?'
 
Rolling her eyes as she strode toward the closed bathroom door, she finally broke into a smile. `Like you said, I'm going to ask him,' she thought as she jiggled the doorknob. `Locked . . . smart puppy . . .'
 
`I meant after he comes back out.'
 
`Procrastination is the root of all evil.'
 
`So you say, so you say . . .'
 
Kneeling down, she cocked her head to the side and licked her lips as she examined the lock. It was a simple hole in the middle of the knob—standard, if not somewhat cheap. One strategic poke later, and the knob twisted easily enough. `Score one for the kitty . . .'
 
`Your inability to wait is going to be the death of us.'
 
`If you didn't want me to go in, then you shouldn't have told me to ask him.'
 
Her youkai only heaved a sigh as she deftly turned the knob and strolled into the bathroom. “Bas, I was wondering—”
 
“Ah!” he hollered, “Sydnie!
 
She giggled. “Something the matter, puppy?”
 
“Get out!”
 
“In a minute.”
 
He erupted in a menacing growl. “Will you get out of here?”
 
“I will; I will . . . Let me ask you a question first.”
 
“You can ask me after I get done in here,” he snarled.
 
Sydnie heaved a melodramatic sigh and jerked the shower curtain aside. “Tell me—oh my . . .” Eyes rounding in wonder as her smile brightened, she stared at Bas' very naked, very wet backside. Glancing over his shoulder, face a deep shade of crimson, he turned away from her a little more as he dropped the bar of soap and glowered at her, slapping the only thing available—the cheap, thin hotel washcloth—-over his crotch, which was amusing since she couldn't see that side of him at all. Hair plastered to his head with the points of his ears peeking up through the tangled strands, the muted bronze was darker; made his eyes appear to glow brighter, fiercer. Muscles rippled under his skin . . . Wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist . . . She couldn't help but gape at the cute little indentations just above his buttocks, and without a second thought, she reached out, giving one of his cheeks a firm squeeze.
 
He jerked away with a hiss, slamming against the wall. “Sydnie!” he snapped. “Get out of here!”
 
Uttering a shaky laugh, she forced her eyes to meet his. “You should walk around bare-assed more often,” she goaded.
 
Bas blushed a little darker and reached back to yank the shower curtain closed. “Shut up, cat.”
 
Sydnie pushed the curtain out of the way again. Bas caught it and tried to pull it closed once more. A moment later, the curtain gave with a loud ripping sound. Bas spared a moment to glare at Sydnie before stretching to nab the towel hanging over the rack.
 
“Need some help, Bas the Hunter?” she offered innocently.
 
He fumbled with the towel, trying to wrap it around his hips without allowing her any more of a view than she was already getting. “Damn it, Sydnie! Get the hell out, will you?”
 
“Not until I ask you—”
 
Now!” he bellowed.
 
Sydnie started to reach out to touch his chest as he tucked the end of the towel in. “Oh, calm down! You shouldn't be ashamed of your body.”
 
“I'm not ashamed of my body,” he grumbled, shoving her hand away from his chest as he shut off the water and glared at her.
 
“You absolutely should consider running around without your clothes more often.”
 
“Get the hell out of here, Sydnie, or I'll—”
 
“Get out?” she repeated with an innocent blink.
 
Yes, damn it!” he snarled.
 
She broke into an enigmatic little grin. “If you say so, puppy . . . It's been a real slice.”
 
Turning on her heel, she sauntered out of the bathroom, grabbing her purse off the end of the bed as she walked past, pausing long enough to slip on her stilettos before heading for the door.
 
`That was low, even for you, Syd.'
 
`He's the one who said that he wanted me to get out.'
 
`Getting out of the bathroom is one thing . . . he didn't mean for you to leave.'
 
`Then he should be more careful when choosing his words, don't you think?'
 
`Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you . . .'
 
`Yeah, yeah . . . hush, will you?' She grasped the doorknob and turned. `Free as a bird . . . or in this case, a kitty . . .'
 
The hand that flashed past her head to slam the door made her gasp out loud as the doorknob slipped from her grip. Moments later, the rough jerk on her arm that brought her around and flush against a damp, hard body forced the breath out of her as she stared, transfixed, into the golden eyes ablaze with irritation. He gripped her biceps in his hands, tightly enough to keep her from bolting, but not nearly tight enough to hurt her. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, so loudly that she wondered vaguely whether or not he could hear it, too. “Fancy meeting you here, pretty boy . . . Anything I can do for you?”
 
“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” he growled, jaws clenched so tightly that his cheeks bulged just a little.
 
She flashed him a grin full of more bravado than she was feeling and shrugged. “You told me to get out, remember?”
 
“You knew what I meant.”
 
“Then you should reconsider the way you word things,” she said, using his words against him.
 
“Don't play with me, Sydnie.”
 
“You might like it, puppy.”
 
“Damn it—”
 
Swallowing hard as she lifted her hand, running her index finger down the shallow vale in the center of his chest, she cleared her throat before she could find her voice. “You're still all wet, Bas the Hunter. If you don't dry off, you're going to catch a . . . cold.”
 
He shook his head, eyes never leaving her face as his nostrils flared, as his eyes burned brighter.
 
“I could help you,” she offered. Leaning toward him, pressing her hands against his damp skin, she flicked out her tongue, caught a droplet of water that was running down his chest. He gasped and jerked back but didn't relinquish his hold on her. She stepped forward and repeated the process again—more daringly this time; her tongue raking against his flesh. He uttered a ragged groan, closing his eyes for a moment before tightening his grip. Fingers digging into her arms, he didn't seem to notice, and Sydnie wasn't inclined to mention it, either. The heat in his stare burned her, and this time, Sydnie was the one who couldn't look away. She cleared her throat and pressed her lips together as he simply stared at her.
 
“D-don't . . . do that . . .”
 
“Don't do what?”
 
He grimaced, swallowing hard. “Don't . . . lick . . . me.”
 
“Why not?”
 
“It's . . . it's . . . unsanitary.”
 
She giggled. “No more unsanitary than you licking my wounds earlier.”
 
He blinked as the florid blush deepened. “Sydnie . . .”
 
Slipping her arms around his neck, she stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down, her lips lingering so close to his that she could feel the moist heat of his breath. “Yes?”
 
Water dripped from his hair like rain on her cheeks. He stared at her, his expression an odd mix of hesitant fascination and unmistakable distrust. The conflicting emotions lent a brightness to his gaze that intensified as she licked away a droplet of moisture that trembled precariously on the edge of his upper lip.
 
“Stop . . .” he murmured, his tone more bemused than demanding.
 
“What's wrong, pretty boy? Frightened of a little . . . pussy?”
 
He flinched at her choice of wording. “I just . . . you should . . . Sydnie . . .”
 
“Hmm?”
 
His reply was cut off by a sharp hiss of breath when Sydnie nipped his chin. Pulling her closer, his muscles straining as he tried to resist her, Bas uttered a low growl as she let her hands trail along his shoulders; down his arms.
 
He squeezed his eyes closed as Sydnie stared, transfixed by the conflicting emotion that he just couldn't hide. “Stop,” he demanded, his voice harsh despite the subtle hint of underlying longing. “Just . . . stop.”
 
“Do you really want me to?”
 
His nod seemed more like an afterthought, and he cleared his throat, grimacing slightly as she let her claws drag along the skin of his sides, down his waist, down his hips, tracing along the edge of the towel as his muscles jumped under her inspection. Wincing, he let go of her arms only to grab her wrists, jerking them away from his body, her claw caught in the hem of the towel, and he growled as she tugged the end loose. Shoving her hands back, he grabbed the towel before it fell, stepping back as an infusion of heat and color surged under his skin. “Damn it, cat . . . just . . .” He trailed off as he backed away before turning to stride off toward the bathroom once more.
 
Sydnie's soft laughter filled the room, gaze trained on the sagging towel that barely covered his ass. “Need some help, puppy?”
 
He snorted but kept walking, slamming the bathroom door behind him.
 
Her laughter faded but her smile didn't. Sure, she'd known that he was strong. Of course she'd sensed as much. She just hadn't expected him to be put together quite so well; that was all . . . Bas the Hunter was just full of surprises, wasn't he?
 
The smile widened as a soft giggle escaped her. `Well, well, well . . . what other surprises do you have for me, pretty boy?'
 
She shoved herself away from the door and sauntered around the room, prowling, she supposed, like a feline. `We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?'
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
Bas dropped into the nearest chair by the table, studiously ignoring Sydnie, who was sitting on the bed, legs tucked demurely to one side as she carefully examined her claws.
 
To add to his discomfort, it had only taken him a minute to figure out that his clothes were soaked. When the curtain had been pulled down, the errant spray had misted everything in the room, his clean clothes included. So he'd had to stomp right back out of the bathroom to dig more out of his bag, much to Sydnie's undisguised amusement. Since all the towels were wet, too, he'd had to settle for the driest of them, which wasn't really dry at all. Damp skin worked against him, making his clothes cling to him uncomfortably, but he'd finally managed to get dressed, and by the time he'd stepped out of the bathroom, he'd almost wished that Sydnie were gone. At least then he'd be able to relieve some of his aggressions by chasing her. In true Sydnie form, though, she hadn't done any such thing.
 
`At least she's not laughing at you anymore,' his youkai pointed out reasonably.
 
`Aw, shut up, will you?'
 
`Okay, you're mad because you liked what she does to you. You just don't know what's in it for her.'
 
`I . . . I said to shut up.'
 
`Come on, Bas . . . think about it. Sydnie never does anything without a reason. What do you suppose she's after?'
 
`Isn't it obvious? She's trying to kill me.'
 
`Don't be stupid.'
 
He sighed. `She's just trying to get under my skin.'
 
`Maybe she likes you.'
 
`Ri-i-i-ight . . .'
 
`Then ask her.'
 
`Like she'll give me a straight answer. She doesn't know the meaning of that.'
 
`Then maybe she's just playing with you. She's a cat, right?'
 
Deliberately ignoring the sarcasm in his youkai's voice, Bas snorted inwardly. `That's exactly what she's doing. Damn it. She's just batting me around like a fucking mouse . . .'
 
`Bas—'
 
“Are you going to ignore me all night, puppy?”
 
He stifled a growl. “That was the plan, yes.”
 
“Why would you want to do that?”
 
“Look, Sydnie, I don't know what the hell you're trying to do, but you can knock it off. I'm here to do a job, not to entertain you. Got that?”
 
“You sound a little angry, Bas the Hunter . . . is something wrong?”
 
“Just stop, all right? Stop with the riddles and the innuendos . . . stop trying to fuck with me, okay?”
 
She sat back, leaning on her hands. “Fuck with you? Is that what you think I'm trying to do?”
 
“Aren't you?”
 
She sighed, lips turning down in a pout. “Maybe I'm finding a new respect for dogs.”
 
“Sure, Sydnie.” He shook his head and rubbed his forehead to stave back a rising headache. “I'm not a toy, okay, and I'm not stupid.”
 
“What makes you believe that I think you're either of those things?”
 
“Come off it, cat. It's not like we're on a vacation here. I'm taking you to Maine. I'm taking you to the tai-youkai.”
 
Her back stiffened at the mention of the tai-youkai. “That's right . . . that's right . . . how stupid of me. You don't really think I'd forgotten that, do you?”
 
“I don't know.” He stood up and sighed, striding over to grab the room service menu from the caddy behind the telephone. “Just stay the hell away from me. I mean it.”
 
She was silent for a moment. When she didn't respond, he shifted his gaze to the side, eyeing her cautiously. She sat back, mouth rounding in an `oh' as her eyes lit with some sort of understanding that eluded Bas' comprehension. “I get it . . .”
 
“Get what?”
 
She waved her hand, curling her legs under her as she sat up and squared her shoulders. “You've got a bitch back home, don't you?”
 
“That's none of your b—yes,” he blurted, face reddening as he tamped down the misplaced feeling of guilt that assailed him over the lie.
 
Blinking rapidly, she managed a stiff little smile as she slowly scooted off the bed. “I see.”
 
Bas watched as Sydnie strolled over to his suitcase, hefted it onto the bureau, and deftly unfastened the locks. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
 
She didn't even spare him a glance, lifting the lid and carefully rummaging through it. “What's her name?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral. He couldn't see her face.
 
“Her name?”
 
She nodded as she pulled a neatly folded shirt and sniffed it. “Uh-huh.”
 
His mind blanked as he tried to think of a name—any name—to appease the cat. “Mad-Madison,” he said, latching onto the first female name that came to mind; the first female name that didn't actually belong to a family member. “What are you doing?”
 
Dropping the shirt on the short bureau, she reached for the next one, repeating the smelling process before answering. “What does it look like I'm doing?”
 
Bas stared as she continued sniffing through more of his clothes. “You're not going to smell anything in there.”
 
She shot him a dark glower.
 
“No, I mean it. You're not.”
 
“We'll see, puppy.”
 
“Why do you care, Sydnie?”
 
“I don't.”
 
“You don't, but you're sniffing all my things?”
 
She shot him a cursory glance as she lifted a pair of jeans to her nose. “That's right,” she replied sweetly enough, her voice muffled by the coarse denim.
 
“You'd have a fit if I rifled through your purse.”
 
“That's different,” she shot back.
 
“How so?”
 
She dropped the jeans onto the pile of shirts and reached into the suitcase once more. “It just is.”
 
Bas rolled his eyes and pushed her aside, scooping up his clothes and smashing them back into the suitcase again. “Enough, cat.”
 
She hopped onto the lid of the suitcase after he'd fastened the clasps. “Is she youkai?”
 
He leaned back, staring at her, trying to figure out just what was going through her head. “Yes, she is.”
 
“What kind of youkai?”
 
“Half pole cat—well, mostly pole cat. Her father is pole cat, anyway . . .”
 
“A pole cat?” Sydnie demanded, eyebrows disappearing under her thick fringe of bangs. “You're dating a skunk?
 
Why did it have to sound even worse coming from Sydnie? Bas swatted her hip with the menu that he still held in his hand. “Move it.”
 
She wrinkled her nose and leaned to the side, allowing him better access to her rear. “Care to try again?”
 
Bas rolled his eyes but couldn't stave back the blush that rose. “Just get off my suitcase . . . not that you'd hurt it since you're so fucking scrawny.”
 
She opened and closed her mouth a few times as indignant color tinted her skin. “I'm not scrawny!” she gasped.
 
“You are,” he countered mildly. “Disgustingly scrawny, actually . . .”
 
Disgustingly . . .?” she sputtered.
 
Bas wrapped his hand around her upper arm and nodded at where his fingers overlapped themselves. “Scrawny,” he stated again.
 
“I'm not scrawny,” she gritted out, yanking her arm away from him. “I'm sleek. There's a huge difference, puppy.”
 
He chuckled and leaned in toward her, his face no more than inches away from hers. “You're scrawny, cat—pathetically so. Get used to it.”
 
She snorted, shoving him back and hopping off the suitcase before she stomped over to the bed and threw herself down on it in a huff. The bed barely trembled, and Bas tried not to laugh—and resisted the urge to point that out to her, too. “I'm from LA, pretty boy. Everyone's skinny in LA . . . have you seen most of the famous actresses? They're all underweight—in fact, they're probably more underweight than I am.”
 
“They say the camera adds ten pounds,” he agreed.
 
“See?”
 
“Sydnie?”
 
“What?”
 
“You're not on TV.”
 
“So how . . . chubby . . . is your bitch?”
 
That effectively ended his amusement. Bas winced inwardly. “She's not chubby,” he told her, “but she's not scrawny, either.”
 
“Does she stink?”
 
Bas shot her a dark glower. “No, she doesn't.”
 
“Well, she's a skunk.”
 
“And that isn't even remotely funny.”
 
“I think it's hilarious.”
 
“Yeah, and you're bent, too.”
 
“Are you sure you have a girlfriend?”
 
“Are you calling me a liar?”
 
“Oh, heavens no!” she said, her eyes wide with mock innocence. “I'm just wondering why you didn't mention her before, and you know what they say . . .”
 
He turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “No, I don't. What do they say?”
 
“If it looks like a skunk . . .”
 
“Sydnie . . .”
 
“And it smells like a skunk . . .”
 
“Cat . . .”
 
“Then it must be a skunk.”
 
“Quiet.”
 
“But you know, you don't smell anything like skunk, so that can only mean one of two things . . .”
 
Whipping around to pin her with as menacing a glower as he could muster, Bas planted his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes. “Can we drop this?”
 
“Hmm, nice try, puppy . . .”
 
“I mean it.”
 
“Either you're lying about having a bitch . . . or you haven't been very close to her . . .” Her expression brightened dramatically as she snapped her fingers and rolled onto her hands and knees, staring at Bas with undisguised amusement. “Is she frigid?”
 
Bas stifled a growl. “No!”
 
“Are you?”
 
“Will you just shut the hell up, Sydnie? Just sit there . . . don't talk, don't think—don't do anything!
 
She opened her mouth to argue.
 
He poked a finger at her. “Not . . . a . . . thing.”
 
She scowled at him, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest. “For how long?”
 
“Knock it off! Just sit there while I order something for you to eat.”
 
“I'm not hungry,” she ground out.
 
“Well, too damn bad! You look like you're going to blow away if the wind picks up! If you weren't youkai, I'd swear you were anorexic.”
 
She snapped her mouth closed and seemed to shrink back a little. Bas ignored the twinge of guilt that assailed him as he turned around and grabbed the phone. `Irritating cat . . . I swear to God, she's trying to kill me . . .'
 
Bas' youkai sighed.
 
 
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Final Thought fromSydnie:
Scrawny …?
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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Phantasm): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.
 
~Sue~