Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AKIRA
ONE WEEK LATER
Idrove my shiny new katanas into the chicken blob, a pointy double whammy to make it scream. I proper skewered it, removing all chances of survival.
The motherfucker tried the Mama Rita thing again.
“Haven’t you heard?” I growled, pressing my face closer to its struggling body. “Everything’s changing.”
“Taker… Taker…”
“So change the record.”
“Taker…”
“Taker got you good.” I withdrew my blades.
The katanas were a wedding gift from Uncle Ryoka, forged before he put down his tools for good. Not magical, but defo deadly enough to slice a blobby poultry prick to pieces.
G scored a gorgeous copy of The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien as his gift.
He was a good egg, that uncle of mine.
“Toodles,” I said, watching it die in a spray of Sakura.
Yep. The minions wanted me dead. As for their masters, there’d been no sign of the next member of The Eight showing up yet.
When they did, we’d know. Well, Zach would, and was under strict orders to contact me the moment the fucker pinged on his radar.
The SCU took out a chicken blob just outside our front gate, blowing a hole right through it with some wickedly powerful guns.
Sarah sent the SCU here, providing twenty-four-hour protection. But sneaky monsters did have ways of slipping through the defenses. Especially with anti-magic being wonky at the moment.
Whatever. I’d gladly kick arse, these new katanas a nice boost for my fighting spirit.
I liked to play my part, embracing it now.
“Wankers,” I grumbled.
The closest creatures these things resembled was the onnen no niwatori. While the OG versions were vengeful, rooster-human hybrid thingies, these were vengeful but not even close to human.
Hmmm.
Stupid things, interrupting me basking in marital bliss on my honeymoon.
It’d been seven days since our wedding, G’s honeymoon plan implemented and going amazing.
We’d turned the cottage into our own private resort. Sandbox in the central garden, along with a large paddling pool. There were tents for us to camp out in, fairy lights, gorgeous weather, plenty of sex, smooches, and a whole lot of love.
I baked cupcakes with cocktail-themed icing and fillings—the pina colada ones particularly yummy. Oh, and G finally got to try my pistachio beauties—a ten out of ten for those.
Best honeymoon ever.
G appeared behind me. “What happened?”
He’d been taking his morning shower, his hair damp, his body clothed in a bright orange vest and baby pink shorts. In full holiday outfit mode, flip-flops on his tootsies.
I wore canary yellow shorts, blue sandals, and a pale green crop top, midriff always bare for his hungry eyes.
“Blobby fucker,” I answered. “Gone now.”
“Are you okay?” He waved a thanks to the agents.
I rolled my shoulders. “Yeah.” I gave him a kiss, grabbed a quick shower myself, and served up our breakfast.
Croissants made by me. Yum.
My leg and ankle were pretty much healed now. There was still some dull aching, but nothing more than that, and I didn’t need the cane anymore.
The Cherry Moon cherries helped a lot with the healing. I mean, I’d devoured so many of them so I guess they would.
“Delicious,” G proclaimed after his last bite of his three croissants.
“Good, good.”
He leaned across sofa, taking my hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “What’s another mazoku attack, eh?”
He growled. “Bastards. What about other things?”
“Oh, you know.”
I might have suffered a few heart palpations over Zach’s impending duties, along with a few sleepless nights, guilt doing its best to chew me out.
Anyway, Zach forbade me from apologizing. He could be scary when riled up.
It’d serve him well.
My brother would be okay, Sarah having provided him with some muscle. All of us were given protection, making any moves to create a hostage situation or whatever difficult for the enemy.
Ha ha! In your faces, wankers!
Now Zach just had to wait and see what came next. He wasn’t sure if he’d be moving out of Bristol, what he’d do with his brewery, or if the hunting would take him global.
Whatever happened, he had my unconditional support. Always.
I’d sent him some cocktail cupcakes yesterday morning, and some white chocolate chip cookies to Riku.
Baking for my bros.
Everything changes.
“Want to talk?” G asked.
I got up, taking our plates to the sink. “As much as I love chatting with you, I have a better idea.”
He joined me, sliding an arm around my waist. “Do tell.”
His ring glinted in the sunlight. I looked down at his hand resting on my tummy, giving the gold band a proud tap.
“Cindy,” I answered. “Let’s take her out for a spin. It’s been far too long.”
He didn’t need any convincing.
Black-and-gold after a glow up, thrumming between my legs, Cindy tore along the long stretch of road. Fields whipped past me, the wind glorious in my face, the sense of freedom immense.
Man, I’d missed my best girl.
Bob and Rose ran on either side of us, keeping pace with Cindy. Always there, forever my awesome babies.
Feels like old times.
Back in the day, me and my motorbike would tear through the streets of London on a hunt. Just us, getting shit done.
“Remember who you are.”
Baker. Brother. Biker.
Husband.
I gunned the throttle, picking up speed. “Let’s go, Cindy!”
G whooped behind me.
The SCU were hot on our tail. We’d slipped out, being a bit reckless. Fuck it. We’d take the bollocking later with good grace.
I could do anything with G by my side. He made the world shine. The absolute best of the best.
And mine.
All. Mine.
As for my fears, well, they wouldn’t be going anywhere, probably never would. But this Cherry Moon, and Riku, had shown me what I had to live for now, how life didn’t follow a straight road.
And that I wasn’t a pawn.
Fear of loss was valid. It came with being alive. But that didn’t mean shying away from everything else. I wouldn’t let it dimmish loving G, my family, and taking the joys of the world by the horns.
Having a positive outlook negated darkness. I didn’t have my head up my own arse. I knew some serious bullshit lingered on the horizon, and that wouldn’t change. But give me all the fruits of existence for the between-the-headache times.
I couldn’t wait for more of the awesome.
Just call me an overfilled donut, happy jam oozing everywhere.
Erm, maybe get a new analogy.
This Cherry Moon had been one of renewal. Helping me reconnect and understand myself better, finding some of those lost parts again. It brushed away the cobwebs, showing me the bigger picture.
My kind of bigger picture.
Nothing would break me.
Nothing would stop me.
Chicken blobs appeared on the road ahead.
I grinned, fervent hunger for their demise on full heat.
G drew a katana for me, my holder strapped to his back for practical reasons. He handed it to me, then pulled out his gun.
Of course we came armed. We weren’t that reckless.
Keeping a hand on Cindy’s throttle, I relished in the adrenaline rush. “Ready for this, hubby?”
“Let’s take them down!”
Full speed ahead, we launched ourselves into a fight.
Because I remembered who I was.
Akira Murakami.
Baker.
Life-liver.
Married.
Your worst fucking nightmare.
Man, it felt so good to be back.
The End
Hello! Me again!
I hope you enjoyed reading Cherry Moon. I had such a blast writing it and didn’t want it to end. Sob.
Okay, so here we go. You ready? You might have already guessed this, but…
Zach is getting his own series! Yay! I am so excited and cannot wait to start writing his adventures as the Sakura Chosen. I’ve met his love interest, come up with the titles, and now I need some covers made as well as a release plan.
Stay tuned, because this is gonna be fun!
Until then, thank you so much again for being here.
I appreciate it beyond words.
Take care and big love!
Richard Amos