“What do you mean, we have to go back to the vampire den?” Lord Thunderbird demanded, walking behind Masaaki as they headed up the beachside path towards the house hidden in the alders. Lord Thunderbird had opened a portal and summoned himself a new set of clothes to replace his shredded garb—skin-tight shirt and pants that, to Masaaki’s uninformed understanding of present dress standards, seemed like the kind of clothing a little girl might wear—but oddly the great Lord of the Rains had not decided to leave, instead staying to ask Masaaki things about his heritage, his family, the history of Clan Yatagarasu in general, his sword, his clothes, his age, etc. It was baffling for Masaaki to be under such intense scrutiny of one so powerful, and he kept waiting for the God of Thunder to return to the skies, but he didn’t seem interested in doing so, instead focusing his complete attention on Masaaki as if he were trying to understand a puzzle, and who was a mere yatagarasu to tell a rain god his inspection was unnerving him?

“The vampires left people imprisoned in their basement,” Masaaki said. “It is my duty as samurai to free them.”

“Technically, that’s the police’s job,” Lord Thunderbird said, squinting at the vampires’ big dark house through the bushes. “We can just call 911.”

Masaaki frowned. “9-1-1?”

Thunderbird waved a hand. “Emergency number. For the authorities.”

Masaaki patted his sword. “As a follower of the daimyō of this territory, I am an authority now, so I will free them.”

Lord Thunderbird gave him an odd look and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then shrugged. “Lead on.”

Masaaki hesitated. “You…don’t need to help, my lord Thunderbird.”

“Of course not. I just plan to watch until it’s time for yoga class.”

Masaaki squinted, knowing from Bonnie’s brief explanation that ‘yoga’ was for ‘crystal freaks, health nuts, and vegans,’ and her tirade on its uselessness after he had found an ad for it listed in the paper under ‘Martial Arts’ had quickly convinced him to look elsewhere for accurate practice of the physical art forms. Since he was a vegetarian, however, it had always nagged at him that perhaps it could be useful, especially if it was something the Lord of Thunder found worthwhile. “Do you suggest classes in this ‘yoga’? My daimyō told me it was a waste of time.”

“It’s a common misconception,” Lord Thunderbird said, getting enthusiastic. “It creates exquisite mind-body connection and control. Very good for dance. I’ll bring you along to a class, once I’ve freed the vampire prisoners and I’ve taken you to Theo.”

The idea that Thunderbird could ‘take him to Theo’ almost knocked him over with the sudden surge of the Nótt Lagsmaðr. He almost asked him to take him right then, and damn the prisoners. Almost. “I greatly appreciate that,” Masaaki said, bowing deeply. “Your debt is more than paid, my lord Thunderbird.”

Brad grunted and waved a dismissive hand. “That was too simple of a request. No one can hide from me on my own continent. You saved my life. There must be something more I can do for you.”

Stop following me, for one, Masaaki thought, on an impulsive, nervous rush. He quickly buried the idea, hoping in a panic that Thunderbird was not a mind magus and could not read his thoughts.

“Your face is twisting funny,” Brad said. “Are you constipated? The terror of fighting a jiaolong finally catching up with you?” The great deity sounded almost enthusiastic at that idea.

“No milord,” Masaaki said quickly, gesturing at the house they were approaching. “I’m…not looking forward to going back to this place. I don’t like vampires. I have a…” He coughed to hide his embarrassment, “…phobia…of vampires.”

“Of vampires?” Thunderbird gave a derisive snort. “They’re like the scum of the earth. Bottom tier. Nothing but parasites.” Thunderbird cocked his head. “Well, aside from queens and lords, but even they are barely worth my notice. If you killed a jiaolong, you could certainly kill a vampire lord. In fact, I’ll do it for you as part of repaying the debt I owe.”

Just the thought of Thunderbird killing Theo made Masaaki’s guts twist in panic on the rush of Nótt Lagsmaðr. “Theo’s not the vampire involved in this place. He was coming here to fight this vampire. Theo is a good vampire. Please don’t kill him.” It was the vampire’s poison that made him babble the last, but even knowing that it controlled his tongue, Masaaki couldn’t stop it.

“You’re enthralled,” Brad said, completely without pity. “What better way to get you un-enthralled than to kill the lord who thralled you? I could go do it right now. Would take like thirty seconds. I wouldn’t technically even have to leave, but I like to see vampires explode from the inside when hit with a petajoule of electricity. I’d be doing you a favor.” It was not the first time that the God of Thunder had offered to kill Theo.

“Yes,” Masaaki said tentatively, knowing he had to choose his next words carefully, “—but if he dies, my friend won’t have a way to feed—”

“That’s her problem,” Thunderbird said firmly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Milord, no!” Masaaki cried, but Thunderbird vanished in a flash of lightning.

Theo, no! Masaaki cried, the Nótt Lagsmaðr rising to a panicked fever pitch in his mind. He fought the panic as long as he could, gripping the hilt of his sword with white knuckles to fight the fever pitch of the Nightlander magics demanding he get to Theo to save him. When he could take it no longer, Masaaki started to upform into the body of a bird to faster get to the place Thunderbird had shown him in his mind. He was about to step out of his kimono and take wing when a bolt of lightning slammed to the earth beside Masaaki and a tousled-looking God of Rain stepped out of the pillar of electricity looking a little shellshocked.

“Did you kill him?” Masaaki whispered, downforming back to human on a wash of horror.

Instead of answering, Thunderbird sniffed and brushed what looked like forest mosses and ash from his newly-ripped skin-tight clothing. Then he gave Masaaki an accusing look. “You didn’t tell me he was friends with a Valkyrie.”

That shocked Masaaki more than the ancestors’ flute becoming a sword. It was like saying a beetle had befriended a bird. “He…is?”

“She made killing the parasite…hard.” Brad narrowed his eyes. “I’ll have to try again later.”

Masaaki’s eyes widened, and his heart sang with relief. It was all he could do not to collapse at Thunderbird’s feet and kiss his sneakered toes. “Thank you, milord. But truly, you really don’t need to—”

“No, I’m killing him,” Thunderbird interrupted. “He deserves it for enthralling you.”

“He enthralled me to save my life,” Masaaki cried.

Thunderbird shrugged. “I don’t like vampires.”

“Don’t kill him!” Masaaki cried. Then he caught himself and bowed deeply. “Please leave him alive if it pleases you, my lord Thunderbird.”

“It doesn’t please me. He enthralled you, and you saved my life. I’d be repaying my debt by ridding you of him.” The way Thunderbird talked, the matter was settled.

The idea was actually making Masaaki sweat with the force of the sudden rush of Nótt Lagsmaðr terror. “Please leave him alive as your favor to me, my Lord Thunderbird,” Masaaki said, bowing low. “I will happily accept that in return for saving your life.”

“He sicked a Valkyrie on me,” Brad said. “His ass is mine.” Then, as if they were discussing flavors of tea, he said, “Let’s hurry up getting these people from this basement. I’m looking forward to yoga and a latte.” He stepped past Masaaki and entered the house first, blowing the door off its hinges with a burst of lightning that rolled into the room in front of him.

For once, Masaaki was happy to let someone else lead the way into a fight.

But, as before, there was no one home except for the captives. In the living room, the sanzuwu and the human screamed and scrambled to the far side of their cage to get away from the God of Thunder. Masaaki waited a couple moments, perfectly content to let the rain god clear the path for him.

“It’s safe, yatagarasu!” Thunderbird called boredly from within. “You can come in now.”

Flushing, Masaaki hastily entered the smoke-hazy living room and found Thunderbird seated at the bar in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter and casually peeling and consuming a banana. He saw the way electricity was still coruscating over the bars that the sanzuwu was watching distrustfully from the opposite side of the cage, and quickly ducked down the stairs into the basement to get an idea of how many captives they would be dealing with.

It was a lot. Twenty-three human women, as well as something that…wasn’t.

Seeing the feral, snarling thing in one corner, Masaaki hesitated. “My lord Thunderbird?” he called at the ceiling of the basement. “Can you come lend your expertise?”

“There’s another yatagarasu up here,” Brad said in reply. He didn’t leave his place at the kitchen bar. “Didn’t you say you were one of the last of your kind? I’m sure she’d let you impregnate her for saving her. I’ll insist.”

Thinking of the sanzuwu, Masaaki winced and went back upstairs. “Milord, that really won’t be necessary…”

“It’s the only one on the continent, aside from you,” Thunderbird said, chewing on his banana as he gestured at the cage with the sanzuwu with his empty hand. “That makes you critically endangered. Like polar bears. You guys have a duty to reproduce.”

Masaaki grimaced, noticing the scowl that the sanzuwu was leveling on the rain god. “Um, I appreciate the sentiment, milord, but the lady is of a different Clan, and I couldn’t possibly—”

“That’s perfect. If she was from your same clan, that would be like fucking your sister. You guys should get it on, just in case there aren’t others on other continents. If you want, I could go ask Zeus for you.”

Masaaki blinked at the mention of Zeus. “Ask him…what…milord?”

“How many yatagarasu are left,” Thunderbird said, still chewing thoughtfully. Then, before Masaaki could speak, he said, “Never mind, now I’m curious.” He disappeared in a bolt of lightning, leaving the half-eaten banana to tumble down the stool and onto the floor.

A moment later, the rain god returned with another snap of lightning that tore down through the center of the house and shorted out all the lights, a frown on his face. “Zeus is gone.”

Masaaki, who had never even considered himself capable of a conversation with Zeus, struggled with the concept that he was ‘gone’. “What do you mean, ‘gone?’”

“Like, missing. Not at home. His place is boarded up. It’s weird.” Thunderbird bent to snag the banana he’d peeled from the floor, dusted off bits of hair and debris, then took a thoughtful bite. “Both his place in Italy and the retirement place in Hawaii. Looks like he left in a hurry. Was still food on the table. Really odd.”

“I’m sure there are more of us in the world,” Masaaki said.

“Maybe,” Thunderbird said, waving off his words distractedly. “I went and asked Poseidon and Ares, but all the fishbrain wanted to talk about was the miles-long wad of trash in the middle of the north Pacific, and the hothead was more interested in Furies and is all excited about a big fight coming up. Wanted me to lay a wager, ugh.” Thunderbird waved a disgusted hand. “Anyway, they seem to be two of the only assholes not hiding.”

Masaaki’s heart gave a startled little hammer. “What does it mean if gods are hiding?”