I dream of her mouth between my legs.

                   Her touch is soft, laced with simmering fire, and her lips trail down my inner thigh. Her tongue finds its way to the heat hidden there, and when she tastes that flame, she grins up at me. "I'm going to fuck you now," she whispers. "Hard."

                    At the first finger, my back arches.

                   At the second, my eyes roll back.

                   And when she begins moving, thrusting them in and out of me? I lose all control. I abandon the rules. I just give into her touch, rough and frenzied with every ounce of tension and pent-up desire between us.

                   "What do you have to say for yourself, Kaya?" she murmurs.

                   "Fuck me harder," I say, and it's blasphemy.

                    Her fingers inside of me force my hips to writhe. My legs begin to shake with the onslaught of pleasure, the inescapable sensation. She doesn't stop the plunging of her two fingers within me, relentless, wringing the ecstasy from my body in glorious bursts.

                    And just as the climax barrels into me―

                    I wake up.

                   The scent of cherry and something baking in the oven compels me to open my eyes. Breakfast is my favourite part of the day.

                    But then I hear voices―Veah and Ren.

                    "Okami knows she's here, in Tokyo," Ren says. "She doesn't know you have her yet, but you have less than a day before she finds out. She'll wonder why you haven't done your job."

                    "Let her wonder," Veah says sharply.

                    "Are you insane?" Ren hisses. "You know who Okami is, don't you? You know what she's in power of? You have to come up with something. You have to talk to her before she decides she wants you dead, too."

                    "The only thing I care about is protecting Kaya."

                    "You know what they call her, don't you? The Wolf? Veah, you've always been reckless, but this is another level. You're not protecting Kaya by hiding her, not this time!"

                    Unfortunately, at this point, they both notice I'm awake.

                    An easy grin spreads over Veah's mouth. "Come and eat, Kaya. I made breakfast."

                    Ren narrows his eyes. "You made whatever is in that oven? Um . . . I'll be right back. I'm just going to go call the restaurant down the street and see―"

                    "You are going to do no such thing," Veah tells Ren. "Sit down. Shut up. And eat."  She swivels towards me, pinning me with only a look.

                    With her hair up in a messy bun, strands slipping away to frame her face, I can see the back of her slender neck when she turns. There is a little tattoo of a bee there. I don't think I've ever seen her with her hair up before, and―

                    She looks good. She looks ridiculously good.

                    I can't tear my eyes away.

                    Philosophical question #3: Is just a single look from a girl (not any girl in particular, of course) supposed to render you completely and utterly speechless?

                   "What are you waiting for, Kaya?" she says, pointing a spatula at me. "Come. I made this for you."

                   I don't remember when she woke up. I am still curled up back against the window, my back aching, but now the dawn sky is pink and disgustingly bright.

                  Have I mentioned I am not a morning person?

                  I take a seat next to Ren.

                   With flowery green oven mittens, Veah reaches into the oven―and swears, jumping back. "Onore. Kusotare."  She hisses in pain as she lifts out the tray. "Motherfucker, that burned!"

                   "Well," I say. "As a general rule, ovens are hot."

                   She places a bun in the shape of a cherry blossom onto the plate in front of me. "There you go, smartass. Eat."

                   It's food and . . . it does look good.

                   "Fine," I mutter, lifting it tentatively.

                   Just as I take the first bite, Ren says casually, "You moan in your sleep."

                   I choke.

                   "Was it good?" Veah asks obliviously, and for a moment I have to wonder whether she is talking about the moaning or the breakfast.

                   "Um. I don't remember," I say, thinking about the way her mouth trailed down, and down, and down . . . 

                  A sudden blush crawls up my cheeks.

                 How do I face Veah now, knowing that I've . . . I've . . . dreamt about her?

                Like that? 

                 I almost climaxed in my sleep, just because she was―

                 Kaya! my common sense snaps.

                 "Oh, you mean―um―the food?" I answer automatically, deliberately ignoring Ren.  "It's really great."

                 I take a bite of the dessert, and it is soft, sweet and heavenly.

                 "This is good," Ren says reluctantly, eating his own.

                 "You know how to cook?" I ask with amazement.

                 "Oh, yeah, for sure," Veah says smoothly. "I'm practically a professional. I watched two episodes of a show with Gordon Ramsay. Now I'm not only a great cook, but I'm well versed in American insults."

                  "Watching Gordon Ramsay does not make you a good chef," Ren says.

                   "This squid is so raw I can still hear it telling SpongeBob to fuck off!"

                   "Gordon Ramsay didn't actually say that."

                    Veah shrugs, and I see a wicked glint in her eye. "It's a good insult, no?"

                    Ren takes another bite of the sweet bun. "Yeah, because how often do you encounter raw squid?"

                    "Oh, shut up and eat," Veah scowls. 

                    I like this side of her, I think. When she isn't in life-threatening, run-like-hell, The-Japanese-Mafia-Are-Hunting-Us-Down situations, she can be . . . fun. 

                    "What you're eating now is called a nerikiri,"  Veah says. "It's a Japanese wagashi. One of my favourite desserts." And she suddenly seems shy, asking me this, but― "How good is it, honestly?"

                    "It's really good," I say truthfully.

                    "I made it myself," Veah says proudly, and it's honestly endearing how excited she is now. "I know you like sweet things, so . . ."

                    "Oh," I say, realizing she has made these delectable little buns for me. "Um. Thank you."

                    I am 100% not blushing.

                    Even still, my conscience whispers, A pretty girl woke up early to handmake dessert for you . . . and you're not sure if she likes you?

                   My common sense adds, Fucking moron. 

                   Which leaves us with―

                  Philosophical question #4: If a certain (nonspecific) pretty girl watched Gordon Ramsay to learn how to cook because she knows you like food, what does that mean?

                    That gives us . . .

                    Philosophical question #5: Does she have feelings for you, or are you a lesbian?

                  "Today, we're going to see Skullcrusher," Veah announces, as ordinarily as if she were telling me about a dentist's appointment. "I got some clothes for you. Get ready."

                   I look down, realizing I'm still wearing the hospital outfit. Plain white pants, a plain white shirt. 

                   Skullcrusher. I shiver.

                   Veah tosses me the clothes, and I hear the sound of the front door opening. 

                   Mai shuts the door behind her, practically hopping with glee. "You will never believe what I―"

                    The instant she sees Ren, her eyes darken.

                    "What is Shrimp Dick doing here?"

                    Ren shakes the curly black hair from his eyes. "Stop saying that."

                    "Would you prefer Ramen Noodle Dick? Perhaps that would be more accurate."

                    "Really? Because last I remember, that wasn't what you were saying while I was inside―"

                     "Do not finish that sentence," Veah says.

                     "Please listen to the scary Yakuza ex-boss," I add.

                     Mai opens her mouth to speak again, but her eyebrows pull together in confusion when she looks at me. "Ex-boss?" 

                     I am still smiling, still unaware―

                     "What do you mean by the ex-boss?" Ren says.

                     I shake my head, still smiling. "She's a runaway, isn't she? That's what she told me. She used to be a Yakuza boss, but―"

                     No one says a word. 

                     My sentence trails off.

                     "Veah?" I say, focusing on her. "It's true, isn't it, what you told me? You're not still a Yakuza boss. Even Imai said you weren't, and how could he . . ."

                      But she looks down, just slightly.

                      It is all the confirmation I need.

                      "So last night," I say, stabbing her with my eyes alone, "when we were being open, and honest, and truthful, you just decided . . . Hey, why don't I keep this small little detail to myself? I'm actually still a Yakuza boss, but I really don't think that's important to mention . . ." 

                       Ren and Mai immediately find somewhere else to be.

                       Now it's just me and Veah, alone in the kitchen.

                       There is a block of knives on the counter. Without thinking twice, I grab a butcher's knife.

                       "Are you going to stab me?" Veah asks coolly.

                       I wave the knife wildly in front of me. "No, I was planning on fucking it!"

                       Jesus. Of all the words I could have used . . .

                       "I didn't know you were into that kind of thing," Veah says with a ridiculously attractive grin.

                        "Shut up! How could you not have told me? I thought you were a runaway! I thought you committed some terrible crime―"

                         "I am, and I did."

                         "What?"  

                          "I'm both," Veah says grimly. "I used to be the boss of the Cai gang, but I did something . . . and now I'm running from them."

                           "How are you still a boss?"

                           "The Kogu-Ryu gang offered me sanctuary. I accepted. And Okami made me a boss―although it's really a glorified title for doing her dirty work. Like killing you."

                           The knife is still waving wildly in my hand as I say, "Who the hell is Okami?"

                            The woman Ren was talking about earlier. The scary, powerful one.

                            Veah's eyes shutter. "Think of it like this. Nothing happens in this city without her knowing. She pulls all the strings."

                          I sweep my knife through the air. "I still can't believe you didn't tell me . . . and . . . what terrible crime?"

                           Veah opens her mouth, but before she can speak, a phone on the counter begins to vibrate.

                          "It's Cassie." Veah holds out the phone to me, still grinning, like she isn't afraid of the knife in my hand. "Do you want to answer?"

                          I place the knife on the counter and take the phone from her.

                         "Cassie?"

                         "Kaya! Are you okay? You didn't call back, it's been two days! I was worried about you."

                         "I'm okay," I say, smiling despite myself. "I miss you so much. How is everything there? How's Tommy? And Hunter and Jude? Is everything okay?"

                         "Everything's good," Cassie reassures me. "Hunter and Jude are good. I'm good. We're all fine, and I miss you, too."

                       I hear a male voice in the background. "Yeah, I'm more than good."         

                       It sounds suspiciously like Tommy.

                       "Shut up!" I hear Cassie say, muffled, like she is putting her hand over the phone.

                        "Who's that?" I ask.

                       "No one," Cassie says quickly. "Anyways, I heard you were going to see someone named Skullcrusher. That sounds like fun. In the meantime, try not to get killed, please?"

                       I glance up at Veah, and for a moment, our eyes lock. I lose my breath.

                      "I don't think I could kill myself even if I tried," I tell Cassie honestly. "Not with her around."

                      I know Cassie knows who I'm talking about.

                      "Ask her if she jumped Veah's bones yet," whispers that familiar male voice.

                      I swear it sounds like Tommy.

                      But in New Orleans, it's early in the morning. So whoever is there must have slept with her, or―

                     "Who's with you?" I repeat.

                     "No one! No one. Um. I have to go, Kiara is making me dye her hair. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

                     "Okay," I say. "I love you."

                     "I love you, too," she says, and she hangs up.

                     When I set down the phone, something tenses in my stomach. Suspicion.

                     "I think Tommy was in Cassie's bedroom."

                     Veah raises a brow. "Really? How so?"

                     I glance up at her sharply. "Wait, don't avoid the subject! So let's get this straight."

                     "Straight?"

                     I blush. "Shut up."

                     She is smiling. "Okay."

                     I pace back and forth up the length of the kitchen―picking up my knife again. 

                     "So, firstly, you were once the boss of the Cai gang."

                      "Yes."

                      "Now you're a runaway from them, but you work for Kogu-Ryu, their enemy."

                      "That's right."

                      "So Okami, who is like the top of the chain, sent you to kill me?"

                      "Correct."

                      "And that's because I'm one of the only hackers alive who can break into the Drakon, which is a firewall?"

                      "No, you are the only hacker left alive who can break into the Drakon. Okami already had the others killed."

                     I swallow, using my knife to gesture as I speak. "Great. That's great. So I'm the only hacker left alive who can break into the Drakon, and that's why the Cai gang wants to kidnap me."

                     "Yes. The Cais want the recipe to the Wyvern."

                     "And the Wyvern is a drug. A new, high-class drug on the black market."

                      "Addictive. Revolutionary. Irreplaceable―and top secret, yes."

                      "So Project Basilisk is the drug lab under the church here in Tokyo city. The Wyvern is the newest and greatest drug they designed. And the Drakon is the firewall that protects the recipe to it online."

                       "Right."

                       "So I'm caught up."

                       The corner of Veah's mouth tugs up. "You've got it all straight."

                       I gesture with the knife. "Do you want me to stab you?"

                       She is suddenly in front of me, so fast she is inhuman. She tilts her head back, ever so slightly, like she is waiting for me to put my knife against her exposed throat.

                      "Are you crazy?  Do you want me to slit your throat?"

                     "Do it," she breathes. "Kill me. I dare you."

                     I groan, letting the knife clatter onto the countertop. "Of course I'm not actually going to stab you! Do you have a death wish?"

                     And faster than lightning, she moves so close in front me that our breaths intertwine.

                     The sight of her mouth is enough to make warmth pour through me.

                      That dream . . . that dream. 

                      Her lips, trailing down my thigh.

                      I swallow hard, but she only whispers, "We've got somewhere to be, you know."

                      Please tell me that "somewhere" is code for the bedroom. 

                      Holy shit. Wait. 

                      Where did that thought come from?

                      Her eyes search mine. Thunder, roiling. "I promised you a date, didn't I?"

                     "You . . . you . . . who says I want to go on a date with you?"

                     Her eyes glimmer wickedly. "Come on. We still have to pay a little visit to Skullcrusher first."

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Any theories about Skullcrusher? Any guesses to what he/she/they is going to be like?

From the moon and back,
Sarai