Read Online Surrender to Darkness by Annette McCleave - Free Book Online
Authors: Annette McCleave
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hunt for an inner darkness.”
“Are you suggesting my father was harboring a tool for the devil?” demanded Kiyoko, aghast at the idea. “He would never do that. He was a dedicated onmyōji .”
“Perhaps he was keeping it safe,” said Murdoch softly. “Each of the other relics has a champion tasked with keeping them out of the wrong hands.”
The tide of outrage burning in her chest subsided. Protecting. Yes, that sounded very much like her father. She pointed to the crystal at the end of the silver chain. “Is it vibrating now?”
“No.”
“So, it’s safe to say the item you seek is not in the dojo compound?”
He nodded. “But you don’t live here.”
Kiyoko got a sudden image of Murdoch inside her home, his huge frame crowding the space, and it sent a strange little thrill down her spine. “Are you inviting yourself into my home, Mr. Murdoch?”
He smiled. “No. But I was rather hoping you’d see your way to offering me a cup of ale before you put a boot to my ass.”
“It’s rather early in the day for a beer.”
“Aye, some might say that,” Murdoch said. He tucked the crystal away. “But I was weaned on the stuff. We’ll just blame it on the jet lag, shall we?”
Sora smiled and headed for the dojo entrance. Kiyoko followed, slipping her feet back in her zori at the door. The traditional straw sandals were far more comfortable than shoes. “I trust a Japanese beer will suffice? We have no American ale.”
“If it’s made from hops and fermented, it’ll do,” Murdoch said, stuffing his feet into his boots. A veritable bounty of silver buckles. “I’m not fussy.”
The winding path to the house followed the edge of the cliff quite closely, offering them a spectacular view of the valley as they walked. Kiyoko knew the proximity to the sharp drop often disturbed first-time visitors, and she instinctively moved to claim the position closest to the cliffs. But Murdoch was too quick for her. He subtly inserted his body between her and the edge—ensuring her safety while also avoiding any skin contact.
She smiled.
An onimusha who was also a gentleman.
As always, Umiko met them at the door. With a very formal bow for their guest, she ushered them into the wood-floored entranceway, where she offered Murdoch a warm pair of socks. Once his feet were suitably attired, she led them into the tea room, where an assortment of beer bottles stood alongside the teapot on the table. Most prominently displayed was a bottle of Sapporo beer.
Kiyoko smiled. The woman was fiercely loyal, even to the local beer industry.
No sooner had Murdoch ducked under the lintel separating the entranceway from the tea room than he was digging in his pocket for the crystal. Not entirely comfortable with the process, but extremely curious to see the results, Kiyoko watched him dangle the transparent stone on the chain once more.
Her expectations were low.
But apparently Murdoch’s were not. As he held the crystal aloft, he closed his eyes and a frown of intense concentration furrowed his brow. A moment passed. The frown deepened.
“No vibration?” Kiyoko asked gently, as she knelt and poured tea into two cups.
Murdoch lowered his arm and opened his eyes.
“The vibration is weak, almost unnoticeable,” he said, dangerously soft. “But it’s there. One of you is hiding the relic, most likely beneath a mystical blanket spell.”
“I know nothing of an evil relic,” she protested.
Murdoch studied her face, reassured by the genuine confusion and shock he saw there. He swung his gaze to the old man, who appeared as calm as ever.
“But you do,” Murdoch said firmly, lowering himself to a cushion.
Sora picked up his tea. “Sample the beer, Mr. Murdoch. Take a moment to breathe.”
“I didn’t fly halfway around the bloody world to breathe .” Although his words spilled out in a rush of irritation, a spark of satisfaction flickered to life in his chest. Webster had thought to send him on a
“Are you suggesting my father was harboring a tool for the devil?” demanded Kiyoko, aghast at the idea. “He would never do that. He was a dedicated onmyōji .”
“Perhaps he was keeping it safe,” said Murdoch softly. “Each of the other relics has a champion tasked with keeping them out of the wrong hands.”
The tide of outrage burning in her chest subsided. Protecting. Yes, that sounded very much like her father. She pointed to the crystal at the end of the silver chain. “Is it vibrating now?”
“No.”
“So, it’s safe to say the item you seek is not in the dojo compound?”
He nodded. “But you don’t live here.”
Kiyoko got a sudden image of Murdoch inside her home, his huge frame crowding the space, and it sent a strange little thrill down her spine. “Are you inviting yourself into my home, Mr. Murdoch?”
He smiled. “No. But I was rather hoping you’d see your way to offering me a cup of ale before you put a boot to my ass.”
“It’s rather early in the day for a beer.”
“Aye, some might say that,” Murdoch said. He tucked the crystal away. “But I was weaned on the stuff. We’ll just blame it on the jet lag, shall we?”
Sora smiled and headed for the dojo entrance. Kiyoko followed, slipping her feet back in her zori at the door. The traditional straw sandals were far more comfortable than shoes. “I trust a Japanese beer will suffice? We have no American ale.”
“If it’s made from hops and fermented, it’ll do,” Murdoch said, stuffing his feet into his boots. A veritable bounty of silver buckles. “I’m not fussy.”
The winding path to the house followed the edge of the cliff quite closely, offering them a spectacular view of the valley as they walked. Kiyoko knew the proximity to the sharp drop often disturbed first-time visitors, and she instinctively moved to claim the position closest to the cliffs. But Murdoch was too quick for her. He subtly inserted his body between her and the edge—ensuring her safety while also avoiding any skin contact.
She smiled.
An onimusha who was also a gentleman.
As always, Umiko met them at the door. With a very formal bow for their guest, she ushered them into the wood-floored entranceway, where she offered Murdoch a warm pair of socks. Once his feet were suitably attired, she led them into the tea room, where an assortment of beer bottles stood alongside the teapot on the table. Most prominently displayed was a bottle of Sapporo beer.
Kiyoko smiled. The woman was fiercely loyal, even to the local beer industry.
No sooner had Murdoch ducked under the lintel separating the entranceway from the tea room than he was digging in his pocket for the crystal. Not entirely comfortable with the process, but extremely curious to see the results, Kiyoko watched him dangle the transparent stone on the chain once more.
Her expectations were low.
But apparently Murdoch’s were not. As he held the crystal aloft, he closed his eyes and a frown of intense concentration furrowed his brow. A moment passed. The frown deepened.
“No vibration?” Kiyoko asked gently, as she knelt and poured tea into two cups.
Murdoch lowered his arm and opened his eyes.
“The vibration is weak, almost unnoticeable,” he said, dangerously soft. “But it’s there. One of you is hiding the relic, most likely beneath a mystical blanket spell.”
“I know nothing of an evil relic,” she protested.
Murdoch studied her face, reassured by the genuine confusion and shock he saw there. He swung his gaze to the old man, who appeared as calm as ever.
“But you do,” Murdoch said firmly, lowering himself to a cushion.
Sora picked up his tea. “Sample the beer, Mr. Murdoch. Take a moment to breathe.”
“I didn’t fly halfway around the bloody world to breathe .” Although his words spilled out in a rush of irritation, a spark of satisfaction flickered to life in his chest. Webster had thought to send him on a
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