Page 3 of Son of Shadows

“Nothing,” Koichi said in a disappointed tone. “The merchant said this urn was haunted, so I bought it for Ryuichi as a challenge. Sadly, Ryuichi won’t be bothered.”

“Aw, you won’t play with your toy. How sad,” Masaru teased Ryuichi.

The funny thing was, that’s why Ryuichi wanted to avoid the urn. He didn’t want to play with whatever dangers might lurk within it. He had accidentally harmed the human realm before. Why would he risk doing that again?

Masaru took a closer look at the urn, examining it with a penetrating stare and several sniffs with his highly sensitive nose. “I can smell the dark energy coming from it, Koichi. You should have left this alone.”

“Should we throw it away?” Ryuichi asked.

“No! You don’t discard evil like its trash. You either contain it or destroy it.”

Masaru was Ryuichi’s guide in all things supernatural. As an inari, he knew more than most about the divine and sacred parts of the spirit realm.

Which is why Ryuichi was surprised when Masaru snatched it up and tossed it to Koichi, who caught it out of habit.

Ryuichi’s eyes widened as his master cursed, then dropped the urn straight to the ground. It jolted around like something was locked inside it and trying to escape. Then it popped up and righted itself.

Koichi growled at him. “Are you insane?”

“All the time.” Masaru winked at Ryuichi. “I have no soul for it to take. Figured yours is so corrupt the urn wouldn’t want it. Looks like I was right.”

The elegant black-leather outfit Masaru wore was a complete contrast to Koichi’s tattered and frayed yukata. The black-haired fox was as cunning as he was aloof, but he was still deserving of admiration.

Ryuichi had no idea why Masaru had ever agreed to protect him. After all, his life was very complicated and dangerous.

He glanced over at Masaru. “So do you think we could destroy it?”

Masaru gave Ryuichi a cold stare. “I think we just got your soul back. Maybe we shouldn’t chance losing it again so soon, eh?”

“Then again, we got it back once. We should be able to do so again.” Koichi grinned.

Koichi’s cavalier attitude made Ryuichi uneasy. He wasn’t prepared to risk his soul. Besides, he still wasn’t even in one piece. Had everyone forgotten that but him?

“Maybe we could try reuniting me with my shadow before we do anything else.” Ryuichi gestured over his shoulder, where said shadow had just appeared without warning.

Silently, Ryuichi-kage watched them, like he was plotting something devious. Not too long ago, he had been divided from Ryuichi by Masaru and offered up to Ryukage as Ryuichi’s replacement in the demon nether realm.

But Masaru’s trick had dangerously backfired, and it had nearly killed them all.

In the end, Ryuichi had learned an important lesson: Shadows know your darkest secrets, and it’s imperative to keep them attached to your body.

Thankfully, Ryuichi-kage wasn’t nearly as cold and ruthless as he had been when they were first separated.

But that didn’t mean that anyone fully trusted the shadow twin.

Masaru nodded at Koichi. “Kid has a point. Living separate from your shadow makes you vulnerable.”

Koichi’s gaze went to Ryuichi-kage. He put a hand on his sheath and stared down the boy’s shadow. “Which is why we’re always watching your every move.”

Ryuichi saw Ryuichi-kage take a defensive posture, as if his shadow self was expecting Ryuichi’s protectors to come after him. But before anyone could move, Ryuichi’s other kitsune guardian, Keiko, approached in her human form—an older woman with a sharp tongue.

“Breakfast is almost . . .” She paused mid-sentence as she saw the cursed urn on the ground. Her eyes flared. “Is that what I think it is?”

The shrill tone of her voice made Ryuichi cringe.

Unlike the men, who were often amused whenever he fell into a dangerous abyss, Keiko had absolutely no measurable sense of humor about Ryuichi’s safety.

Which made his male guardians suddenly very nervous as they glanced around, playing a game of “this isn’t what it looks like” with her so they didn’t end up tied to trees for the rest of eternity . . .