InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Chronicles ❯ Desperate Moments ( Chapter 95 )

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

~~Chapter 95~~
~Desperate Moments~
Kagome grabbed the phone and hit the speed-dial as she hurriedly gathered things for Inuakamori's diaper bag. “Mama?” she greeted when her mother answered the phone.
“Kagome! I was just thinking about you! How're my grandchildren?”
She rolled her eyes. “You act like you never see them. Shippou's not home from school yet, and Inuakamori's just fine. Listen . . . InuYasha went somewhere, and I need to go find him. Do you think you could watch the boys for me? Just keep Shippou there after school?”
“Of course! Will you bring the baby right over, or do you want me to come get him?”
“I'll come drop him off. I'll be there in a little bit. I still have to pack a few things into his bag. Bye, Mama. Thanks!” She took the phone away from her ear and turned it off before redirecting a call to Miroku's cell phone.
“Miroku . . . has InuYasha been there?” she asked as she stuffed a few bottles and a canister of powered formula into the diaper bag.
“I don't know . . . I've been going over some security checks along the back quarter all day. Is something wrong?”
She frowned as Inuakamori started whimpering. Never liking to be left alone for long, the baby was fussing since he couldn't see her. “He found out some things, and I'm a little worried . . . you know how he is . . . .”
Miroku chuckled. “Ah, I was wondering when that infamous temper would rear its ugly head once more. He's been in too good a mood for a little too long lately . . . .”
Inuakamori's whimpers escalated to a full-blown howl. She winced. “Hold on, will you? I've got to get the baby . . . he's so much like InuYasha sometimes it's scary . . . .”
“All right,” Miroku agreed with an exaggerated sigh and a soft chuckle. “Don't tell him that, though. He's already a little too proud of that baby . . . .”
Kagome wrinkled her nose. “I know . . . sometimes I think he forgets that I had anything at all to do with Inuakamori. Just a second . . . .” She set the phone down and hurried off to grab her son. “What's wrong with Mama's big boy?” she asked, smiling as she lifted the baby out of the halted swing and cradled him against her shoulder. He stopped crying immediately and shoved his fist into his mouth. “Oh, no, you. I know you're not hungry again . . .” she chided.
Suddenly, she tensed. As though she could sense the presence of something sinister, she tightened her hold on her son as her eyes darted toward the windows. “Something's not right,” she murmured, patting the baby's back. Closing her eyes as she centered her concentration, Kagome used her training to extend her aura, as Kaede had taught her to do. `Two men . . . no, five, with guns . . . they're coming . . . .'
Eyes snapping open, Kagome didn't wait for the men to barge in. Darting toward the back of the house, only one thought echoed through her head. `Inuakamori . . . I've got to protect him . . . .' She could purify them, if they had been youkai . . . but humans, let alone humans with guns . . . .
Slamming the door in his room, Kagome looked around wildly, anxiously, as her son started to whimper again.
“Kami . . .” she muttered, trying to silence the baby as she tried to find a way to protect him, to hide him. Raising her gaze to the ceiling in a silent entreaty for help, Kagome gasped. `The attic . . . .'
Tugging hard on the chain that hung from the trap door, Kagome grimaced as the door fell open and as the ladder extended down. A smothered yelp as she heard the front door give, and she jerked the folded ladder and hurried up the rungs. “Be good, baby . . . Mama will be back soon . . . .” Swallowing hard, she kissed her son's forehead and scooted him away from the door before hopping down and hurrying to close the trap. Yanking with all her might, the chain snapped in her hands, and she stuffed it into a drawer on the diaper changing table to keep the men from figuring out where she had hidden the baby.
The bedroom door slammed open. Kagome smothered a cry as she fought against the urge to look up. Whether he sensed the danger or whether he was too scared to make a noise, Inuakamori remained silent.
“I found her!” the man called as he grabbed Kagome's wrist. “Come on,” he growled, waving his gun toward the hallway.
Flinching as the gun pressed between her shoulder blades, Kagome did as she was told. `Be quiet, angel . . . be safe . . . . I love you . . . .'
“Who sent you?” she asked, deliberately trying to keep herself calm by talking. Other men—five in all—closed in around her as she stepped into the living room. “What do you want?”
“Can't tell you,” another man spoke with an amused chuckle. Eyes raking over her, Kagome resisted the urge to shy away from him. “Now where's your baby? I was told you have a baby.”
“He's not here . . .” she hedged, eyes darting around the room as she tried to find a way to escape. Eyes skittering over the end table next to the sofa then returning, Kagome gasped softly. The phones in the house were all connected, and if one was left off the hook, a light on the main unit—the one she was staring at—would blink. `The kitchen phone . . . Miroku?' Straightening her back with resolve, Kagome repeated herself in a much louder tone. “He's not here. My husband has the baby with him.” `Come on, Miroku, you know that's not true . . . .' “What do you want with me?”
The men chuckled, as though she ought to know the answer to that. “We ain't at liberty to tell you, remember? You'll see, soon enough . . . our boss said to bring you to him. Get moving.”
“Pretty little thing, isn't she?” another man spoke as he grabbed her arm to hurry her along.
She jerked away from him. “Wait!” Kagome insisted as they swept her toward the kitchen—toward the door. “I have to let my pup out. You know, they make such a mess if you leave them alone too long, especially such a young pup, and he really is just a young pup . . . only two months old . . . .”
The men exchanged looks. Most of them simply looked irritated. One looked a little suspicious. The last one actually laughed. “We're in a hurry . . . and I doubt you'll have to worry about your puppy long. I don't think you'll be coming back here, ever,” the one who laughed remarked. “Now if you don't mind . . . ?”
Kagome gasped as the gun nudged her again. “It took five of you to kidnap me?” she demanded, mostly to keep herself from screaming.
“We were told that your husband has a bad temper. Mr. Yamashita thought this would be best.”
Kagome remained quiet as they escorted her out of the house and toward the waiting work van. That name . . . Yamashita . . . why did it sound familiar?
`Mr. Yamashita seemed very unhappy when he called . . .'
She frowned in confusion. Why would one of InuYasha's business associates want to have her kidnapped?
Sitting on the floor in the back of the van with four guns trained on her, Kagome thought of InuYasha's smile, of Inuakamori's face, of Shippou's laughter, even as a riot of panic welled up inside her . . . . `Keep it together, Kagome . . . .Miroku . . . please . . . . You had to have heard me . . . .'
Miroku hit speed dial on his phone and waited for Sango to answer as he sprinted toward the house. Grimacing as the phone rang five times, six times, he was about to hang up to call Mrs. Higurashi when Sango picked up the phone. “Houshi-sama?” she answered sounding adorably sleepy. Miroku sighed. “Sango, I need to you to get over to Kagome's. Inuakamori is there, alone.”
“What? Where? Kagome wouldn't leave him alone . . . .”
He rubbed his forehead as he picked up his pace. “I don't know . . . I think she's been kidnapped . . . .”
“What?” Sango shrieked. “How do you know?”
Miroku flinched but kept running. “Kagome put the phone down so she could get the baby—I heard him crying. Then I heard the door, like someone busted it open, and voices. Anyway, I heard Kagome. She said that InuYasha had the baby, then she said she `had to let out the pup' . . . I think she hid him.”
“Where is Kagome?”
“Someone named Yamashita had her kidnapped . . . .I'm going to see if anyone knows anything. Kagome said InuYasha was upset over something . . . . Get over there, Sango. The baby's there, I know it. I'm going after Kagome.”
“All right. Be careful. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Clicking the device closed without breaking his stride, Miroku ran in the back doors and down the hallway, throwing open doors and peeking inside, room after room, searching for anyone who could help him find his friend. Dialing InuYasha's cell phone, he growled as he got the `out of range' message. “Sesshoumaru! InuYasha? Anyone? Hello!”
Nibori stepped out of the living room with a marked frown. “Something wrong, Miroku?”
“I've got to find InuYasha,” Miroku explained between deep breaths. “Someone named Yamashita kidnapped Kagome.”
Nibori's eyes widened. “Yamashita?”
To Miroku's surprise, Katosan stepped up behind Nibori. “That means he knows,” Katosan remarked with an uneasy glance at Nibori.
“Who knows what?” Miroku demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see Sesshoumaru-sama . . . . Come, exterminator. InuYasha-sama's miko has been taken by Norimitsu.”
“Kami . . . . Tell me where to find him.”
Nibori and Katosan exchanged quick glances. “We'll show you.”
Miroku followed the two inu-youkai out of the mansion as he dialed Sesshoumaru's cell phone. Seconds later, after being greeted with the tinny voice of a prerecorded message saying that the caller he was trying to reach was out of range, Miroku snapped the phone closed and jammed it into his pocket as Nibori pulled the ex-monk onto his back and the two inu-youkai broke into a sprint.
Sango burst into the house as she held a protective hand over her lurching stomach. “Inuakamori!” she called, hoping the baby would cry, hoping that he was safe. `Kagome . . . where did you hide him?'
Hurrying through the house, room by room, Sango called, over and over. Rifling through closets, tugging on big drawers, looking anywhere Kagome could have stowed the baby . . . . “Inuakamori!
Darting from room to room, Sango struggled to remain calm. Stopping inside the infant's room, she called out once more. He had to be here . . . Mrs. Higurashi had mentioned that Kagome was supposed to bring him over just before Miroku called, and Sango was starting to feel desperate. “Inuakamori!
The muffled sound of the crying infant suddenly permeated the quiet. `It's coming from . . . above?' Staring up at the ceiling, she noticed the chain hanging from the trap door. `The attic?' Staring at the covered hole, it was obvious to her that someone had yanked the chain out to keep the infant hidden. `Kagome . . . .' She broke for the door to find something she could use to climb on to reach it—and something to pry the door open.
A three step footstool folded and stowed between the refrigerator and the wall filled one need. With a wince, Sango grabbed a butcher knife out of the thick block on the counter to use as a wedge as she ran back to the room. She set up the step-ladder and climbed, standing on tiptoe as she jammed the knife into the door crack. Pulling on the knife's handle with all of her might, the door finally gave and slowly swung down enough to catch the edge as the knife clattered to the floor. To her relief, the infant's cries were unmuffled as the door opened. “Hold on, Aka,” she crooned as she hurried down the footstool and unfolded the ladder, “I'm coming . . . .”
The wailing infant was red-faced and terrified from his ordeal. Knowing that she was familiar but was certainly not his mother, Inuakamori sniffled and cried harder. “Shh, it's all right . . . your mama will be home as soon as she can . . . houshi-sama went after her . . . .” Sango tried to reassure him as she cradled him to her chest, humming the lullaby that she'd heard Kagome sing to him numerous times over the last couple of months. It did the trick, and the infant whined and whimpered but stopped wailing. With a sigh of relief, Sango hurried to call Kagome's mother.
“She don't really look powerful,” one of the men—a squat boy who didn't look much older than Kagome—remarked to one of his thug-friends.
“Some styles of fighting don't need muscle,” he replied. “It don't matter, anyway. Guns are always faster.”
Kagome kept her mind centered, unwilling to let the men intimidate her any more than they already had. Their firearms were daunting, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from screaming. `Well,' she thought ruefully, `I wanted to follow InuYasha . . . Miroku, I hope you understood what I was saying . . . Inuakamori . . . be safe . . . .'
It would be easier to stay calm if she could see where they were taking her. The van jostled her, and she put her hands on the floor to keep from falling. Wincing inwardly as four guns `snicked' as they were readied to be fired at her sudden movement, Kagome slowly raised her hands in surrender.
She slid across the cold metal floor when the van lurched to a stop. The driver came around and opened the door. Grinning at her, he gestured her forward. “Come on. Can't keep Mr. Yamashita waiting.” She did as she was told. Confident that his comrades were watching her at gunpoint, the driver yanked her hands behind her back and tied them with a short length of rope. “Sorry,” he said with a nasty chuckle. “Mr. Yamashita's orders.”
Kagome didn't recognize the outside of the office building. Black slate, polished smooth . . . lumbering over her, ready to crush her . . . . Parked where they were, in a small alcove behind it, she couldn't see the main street, and even if she did, the guns were too close, and the men seemed nervous. “Move it, girl.”
Swallowing hard as one of the men roughly pushed her, Kagome stumbled forward, catching herself before she could falter. Fear gripped at her even as she fought it away. If she fell apart now . . . `They will not break me,' she thought as she straightened her back. `InuYasha, Shippou, Inuakamori . . . they need me . . . .'
She was surprised at the inside of the posh office building. Highly polished marble floors, high ceilings crossed with steel beams, everything about the place was elegant, sophisticated, and very, very dark. Huge, thick marble pillars stood like silent sentinels in the grand open space. She was escorted to the elevator between two rising marble staircases in the middle of the open space behind the immense reception desk. The men pushed her into the elevator while one dialed his cell phone. “We got her. We're getting on the elevator now . . . her baby wasn't there . . . yes, sir.” Turning to the rest of his cronies, the man—the quietest of them, raised his gun at Kagome as she stepped onto the elevator. “Hurry up. Akira, you take her to Mr. Yamashita's office. The rest of you, come with me. We've got new instructions. Mr. Yamashita seems concerned that her husband will show up. We're to show him a warm welcome.”
Staring at the guns while the doors closed behind her, Kagome bit back a panicked cry that welled up in her throat. InuYasha could cut through youkai without any trouble. She didn't worry that he would have trouble finding her. He was more than in his element with that sort of fighting, in fair fighting. He was almost indestructible when he fought, but guns . . . . `Be safe, InuYasha . . . .'
Her stomach lurched as the elevator shot to the top floor. The doors opened into a very plush office that seemed to encompass the entire level. Three walls of windows covered by thick green curtains, a solitary circle of light was suspended above the expansive mahogany desk. Even that monstrosity was dwarfed in by the sheer magnitude of the looming chamber. Two doors were arranged to left side of the elevator, another on the right. `The stairways,' she realized vaguely, feeling as though she were suspended in a dream . . . or a nightmare . . . .
“Very good,” the man said, his voice barely higher than a whisper, the sound grating across Kagome's nerves like the scuttling of leaves across an autumn-dried earth. Uncovering the telephone receiver he held against his ear, he gave final instructions to the person on the other end. “Take care of her husband. Don't let him reach this floor. Fail me and die.”
Kagome could feel the man's unease as he pushed her out of the elevator and stepped into the room behind her. With a soft scrape, the doors closed again, and they were alone with the man she couldn't see.
`He's youkai . . . . I know him, his youki,' she realized, eyes flaring in shock as the man—the youkai—slowly stood. His disguise was ineffective against her miko power. Black hair hanging down his back, fangs bared as his mouth twisted into a wicked grin, claws longer than she remembered, amber eyes piercing through her with a vindictiveness that made her want to run. She stared as he crossed the floor slowly, deliberately, taunting her, stalking her, a predatory gleam awakening in his eyes. He stepped over to the elevator control panel and hit the emergency shut down switch. A soft groan as the building's transportation ground to a stop met Kagome's ears, echoed in her brain. `No escape,' she thought. `None . . . `
“So . . . we meet again.”
Lifting her chin as she dared to stare at the youkai, Kagome willed herself to be calm as she regarded him.
~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~ *~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~
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Final Thought fromMiroku:
I thought youkai were fast! Can't you two move any faster?
Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Chronicles): 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.

Chapter 94
Chapter 96
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