Bound by Corruption by BelovedStranger

The Contract

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Word Count: 2,090

Glossary:

Ningen—Human

Hakama—Loose Trousers

Haori—Loose, Outer Garment Resembling A Coat

Nagajuban—Under Haori

Onna—Woman

Aijin—Lover

EVEN BLINDED BY tears, Kagome could not mistake the presence before her for a mortal man.

His brilliant amber gaze, with its cat like pupils, could never exist in the eyes of a ningen. She tried to blink away the moisture obscuring her vision so she could take in every detail of this being masquerading as a man. Silver hair, straight and impossibly long, tendrils cascaded down his wide, muscular chest, only stopping at mid-thigh. The silken mass shimmered beautifully, softening the angular face and strong jaw, while his alabaster skin accentuated the intriguing markings that graced his angelic but unmistakably masculine visage.

Two, mauve stripes slashed across either high cheek bone, with a cerulean crescent moon centered squarely on his proud forehead, and magenta coloring the back of his eyelids.

Unlike the vibrancy of his markings, his clothing was stark in contrast. His hakama were black, along with the nagajuban that was underneath the snowy white haori, which was revealed by the singular horizontal cut in wither sleeve just beneath his shoulders. His obi was the only splash of color, matching the gold of his eyes. At his hip, he wore two swords—a warrior.

“Inu no Kami,” she breathed in awe, momentarily forgetting her peril. Unconsciously, she lowered her bow to her side.

He chuckled, the sound low and intimate, meant just for her, but Kagome detected a hint of mockery.

When he spoke, his voice was deep, sensual as it caressed her eardrums. “No, onna, I am not.” The two fingers holding her arrow squeezed, snapping the shaft as if it were nothing more than a twig, causing Kagome to flinch in surprise.

Only then did she notice the raw energy surrounding this being, dark and sinister. Before she could demand who he was, the shrine doors crashed open, bringing her back to the danger awaiting. With the bandits’ entrance, fear returned. A whimper escaped her, her shoulders hunching defensively.

“Do you wish to be saved?”

More men spilled into the room. Outside the destroyed doors, she saw a crowd. She could not hope to defend herself for long. She hadn’t the arrows. There was no escape. She knew the shrine had but the one entrance. Panic seized Kagome. Without looking away from the threat at the door, she grabbed onto the being’s wide sleeve with her free hand. “Yes! Yes, please!”

“My aid does not come free,” he warned, while slowly easing her bow from her tight grip. His touch was warm and strong as he took her only means of defense, forcing her to rely wholly upon him. The bastard!

“Give that back!”

“Now we’ve got you, girly,” snickered one of the bandits, his grin a mirror of the others. Hungry. Malicious.

Tensing, Kagome’s attention rounded on the human threat.

“Let’s get her, boys!” hooted another. Dozens hollered their agreement, all too eager—for her. And yet, for all their excitement, their steps where slow as they eyed the being before her warily.

Terror clamping around her heart like a vice, Kagome shuffled further in front of her would-be rescuer, allowing his larger body to hide her from the approaching men. In this moment, it was not the being before her she feared but her fellow man.

“Please!”

“Look at me.” Before she could comply, fingers nudged her chin upwards. Oh, so gentle. She stared into the unfathomable depths of molten gold.

“Tell me. What do you desire?”

Unable to look away, Kagome felt as though she were falling into his eyes. “Deliverance.” A whispered plea.

“Shall I aid you?”

“Yes!”

“Then we are in accord?”

“Yes.” She didn’t know what she was agreeing to, what price she would have to pay, but it wouldn’t matter if the bandits got their hands on her.

Another chuckle was his answer, cruelty personified. His thumb caressed her bottom lip. She flinched, belatedly remembering biting too hard, causing blood to spill.

His nostrils flared. Scenting her. “You must be certain. There is no going back. No room for regret.” His words held warning, and anticipation.

The approaching men sealed her fate, and again she agreed.

He grinned at her almost kindly, fangs peeking from his sculptured mouth. So sharp were they that one pierced his bottom lip. Blood welled. Then he was bending his great height over her, before his lips collided with hers.

Kagome’s eyes widened.

The gentle hand at her cheek suddenly clasped her jaw, tightening cruelly, forcing her mouth open for his wicked tongue. She gasped, unwittingly granting him deeper access. She tasted iron—his blood. Before she could recoil in alarm, pain lanced her bottom lip where she’d torn flesh, widening the wound. Making her bleed anew. She flinched but could not escape as he sucked on her abused appendage. Tasting her.

With the bandits approaching, all she felt was fear and shock. There was no loathing for the liberties taken by this creature of darkness, nor enjoyment at experiencing her first kiss.

Suddenly, a voice not her own intruded in her mind—his. A chant. With blood, I bind thee. By our vows, your fate is mine, until our contract is fulfilled. Or death releases you.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun.

“Looks like we’re interrupting, boys.”

Jarred back to reality, Kagome stiffened. The bandits had them surrounded. More male laughter erupted.

“Stand aside, pretty boy. This one’s ours. Unless you want to be fucked, too. You’re girly enough,” another taunted, threatened.

Seemingly indifferent to their malice, her savior mapped the wet path down her cheeks, before bringing his fingers to his lips, drinking her tears.

“Aijin, if you do not wish to see their deaths, close your eyes.” An ominous warning.

Nodding her head mutely, she did as he suggested. She felt him leave her side, making her feel alone once more. Vulnerable. She nearly reached for him, almost took a step after him. Instead, she bit her tongue and winced at the pain, tasting him as she did.

She was revolted. She was relieved.

She wasn’t alone.

Panicked and terrifying screams rent the air, distracting her from the significance of what they’d shared, of what she’d done. She jerked back in surprise, only to trip on the stairs that led to the alter. Unable to catch herself, she fell in a painful heap, but swiftly rolled to her knees with her back to the door. Before she could regain her feet, she heard an unnatural tearing, ripping sound, then liquid splattering across the floor. Gurgling followed. More screams, more shouts of terror—of agony.

Her eyes were open, her gaze rapt on the shadows played along the floor and wall before her, revealing nightmarish images for all its obscurity. Forms flew through the air, while others were torn apart, and an endless spray of dark shadows escaped the figures before they were discarded on the ground like refuse. She couldn’t bring herself to turn, to look. She stayed where she was, kneeling, hunched over, as though anticipating a blow.

Something wet struck the steps inches from her right. She jerked, eyes wide on the crimson splatter. Bile rose. Clamping her lips shut, her eyes followed suit as a tremor of trepidation slithered down her spine. The sounds of the slaughter taking place behind her frightened her unbearably. She tried to muffle the noise by covering her ears with her small hands, but her efforts were in vain. The violent deaths taking place close at hand was heard all too clearly.

The ensuing silence was deafening.

Before she could build the courage to lower her hands or open her eyes, fearful of what she might see, warm, sticky hands clasped her own, lowering them to her lap. Fear lanced her at the unknown. The danger that had come for her.

Flinging her eyes open, her savior knelt before her on the platform, bending over her kneeling form. She derived no comfort from his sheltering posture. Blood was splattered across his white haori and painting the left half of his face, where a drop fell from his chin. She saw no wound upon him and knew the blood was not his own. Crimson wreathed his perfectly smooth, unblemished throat, even staining his silvery hair. Her stricken gaze lowered to their clasped hands. More blood, now painted across her own skin.

For the first time, she realized he had claws, sharp and deadly compared to the blunt tips of her own.

Shock held her immobile for long seconds, until the horror erupted inside her. She exploded into motion, yanking her hands away even as she sought escape. She was on her feet, backpedaling, eyes never straying from his imposing form. A mistake. She slipped on something slick and fell painfully on her rump, where she found a torso lying beside her, its inwards spilling out, lay in a meaty heap of human remains. She felt it, coagulating blood soaking into her hakama.

Gagging, she turned, moving to her hands and knees in a wild attempt to get away from the blood and gore, but all around her was carnage. Body parts and entrails littered the floor in impossible amounts. The smell of iron, urine, and bowels infiltrated her nostrils, choking her on its foul stench—the scent of death.

Looking into the eyes of a bodiless head resting a mere foot away from her held her petrified gaze. A scream built inside her throat, bounced around her tortured mind, until a keening wail escaped to fill the loud silence. Blackness overtook her vision as shock had her falling to the crimson floor in a dead faint.

When she awoke, Kagome felt herself being held in a strong embrace. Slowly opening her eyes, her mind blissfully blank, she looked up into the amber gaze of her savior. His face, neck, and hair no longer bore signs of blood. Until she noticed the bloodstains on his haori—and her own.

Gasping like a fish out of water, she pushed against his chest and out of his hold. Crawling backwards, away from him, she gaped at him wordlessly. It was then that she realized that they were no longer inside the shrine, but in a wooded area next to a thin stream.

He tilted his head, watching her in eerie silence.

“W-who are you? What are you?!” demanded Kagome, her voice shrill. He’d denied being the Inu no Kami, but he was no mortal man. A sinking feeling made her ill. Before he answered, she knew he was a youkai.

“An inugami.”

She froze, even her breath stilled in her lungs as she stared at him in dawning apprehension.

An inugami. Rare and powerful, this youkai could only be summoned by dark magic, or by the call of bloodshed and destruction. They were devious creatures who thrived on establishing contracts with ningen for the promise of violence, but for a price. Somehow, in her desperation, she’d summoned him. Remembering their brief conversation, dread filled her. Forging a contract with this daemon, she’d damned herself.

She swallowed thickly. “What—what do I owe you?”

The answer could be anything. There’d been no stipulations, no guidelines. Oh, gods!

“Your innocence.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, nearly swallowing her tongue. She spoke without thinking. A shout, a wail. “My maidenhead? I’m a miko! Carnal relations are forbidden!”

His grin was pure evil, causing her to cringed.

“You mistake me. I do not speak of that virgin body of yours; though, in time, you will gift it to me freely. Eagerly, even.” A confident grin lifted the corners of his lips. “No, I seek more. The opportunity to corrupt the pure light that surrounds you, to show you that darkness does indeed lurk within even your heart, miko.”

“No!” Horror suffused her.

A dark miko. A fate worse than death, even that of the bandits’ cruel intentions.

“You and I have a contract, aijin. If you do not wish to honor it, then I can rightfully devour you, body and soul.”

Quivering at the promise in his words, one of her obaasan’s many proverbs came back to haunt her. ‘If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.’ It was a precaution against blindly accepting anything without knowing what awaited ahead. Too little too late.

She’d been beyond foolish.

She could either pay the price for her impulsiveness or die. And she suspected her death would be far worse at the hands of this daemon than it would have been had she faced the bandits alone.