Mob Sorcery 2 - Ch15

Chapter 45

Ally

“Everything’s going fine,” Ally said, sitting at her desk in the workshop above her store. “I know I sometimes complain, but the store is fine.”

Her phone sat in a neat wooden holder by the edge of her workspace. A small light along its top indicated it was connected to the little red earbuds in her ears that nearly blended in with her vivid red hair. Four red fox tails hovered behind her, absently shifting according to her whims. A thick brown apron covered her white sundress.

Long wooden racks full of small vials lined one side of the desk, while a variety of jars filled the rest. All manner of materials occupied the jars. Metal shavings in a couple, but organic materials proved most popular. Various herbs, things that looked like herbs but obviously weren’t due to their unnatural coloring, dense objects almost like star anise but possessing an iridescent shimmer.

Ally used a mortar and pestle to mix up the materials in specific quantities, all measured out using specialized tools. Her mentor had taught her to rely on gut feel and magic, but she found a scale rather useful. Things tended to explode less often.

While her customers might appreciate explosions—particularly her newest patron—she preferred to keep them to a minimum.

Thinking about Vince caused her cheeks to redden, and she realized her mind had wandered. Not something she could risk when working with dangerous materials, especially given how much they cost.

After grinding up a specific amount, she combined it with a liquid mixture in a metal cylinder. A glowing seal atop it prevented fumes from escaping. While her inhuman nature gave her some resistance to the harsh effects of the distilled catalysts, she’d heard nasty stories. Plus, the city authorities didn’t appreciate the stuff leaking out through ventilation systems.

A frown crossed her face as the person on the other side of the phone said something. She stared out the window opposite her.

She saw little. The night had descended long ago. Every other store had long since closed up shop, although some lights remained lit like hers. In the distance she saw the lights of downtown and its stretch of towers.

“I have customers,” Ally insisted. “And I have savings from New York. You don’t need to lend me anything, otou-san. I’m fine. The catalysts you’re supplying are help enough.” The hint of frustration that leaked into her voice at the end possibly suggested she was anything but.

Her father picked up on that. For all that she used English in almost everything she did, Ally struggled to recall the last time she’d called her father “Dad.” The Japanese word for father, “otou-san,” had stuck with her well after childhood, when she’d spoken both languages in the home.

Somehow, she suspected if she ever called her father anything else, he’d charter a private jet and fly over to beg her forgiveness for whatever imagined slight he thought caused her to stop calling him “otou-san.”

Some of his friends, who she thought of as uncles, talked of her father as a terrifying and powerful man. She struggled to see him as anything other than the man who had once tried and failed to bake her a birthday cake, only to order a replacement cake large enough to feed the entire street while she giggled at the ruins in the kitchen.

These days, that wealth proved a problem all its own.

“No, I didn’t mean—” she tried to say. “I—”

Her phone buzzed and a message came through. Assuming it was from the client picking up these infusions, she flicked it open while trying to think of a reply to her father’s needling about her financial situation.

Then froze.

Panicked words came over her earbuds as she remained silent for nearly ten seconds. Then she shook herself.

“Sorry, otou-san,” she said quickly, hiding her panic. “A customer just let me know he needs to pick up his order early. I really need to focus on getting these infusions done. I’ll call you tomorrow. And don’t call your friends about me or tell Mama!”

Naturally, her father clicked his tongue at her, but dutifully said good night, wished her well, asked when she was visiting New York next, offered her more money, and tried to keep the conversation going. She hung up.

Ally rested her head in her hands for a long minute. Then she grabbed her phone and looked at the message. It came from a contact termed Chivalrous Catalyst. Not the most subtle name, she supposed, but who was going to be rooting through her phone contacts if they didn’t already know who this person was?

The message read, As the Sakura blooms in winter, so shall the kumi. The situation is evolving. I shall arrive shortly.

She’d been dealing with this specific person for longer than she cared to admit. Yet every time caused her heart to race and goosebumps to crawl on her skin. Aulfair required her to deal with literal demons just to operate her shop, but she’d prefer another difficult encounter with the local horned middleman over the man who sent this message.

Her memory suggested the code that opened the message matched expectations. Even so, she dug up a notepad from inside a magically locked drawer in her desk. Every page appeared blank. Her four tails quivered as she cast a spell to make the ink appear. Then she flicked through the pages, found the code, and then confirmed it was for the correct date.

Ally lacked any knowledge of spycraft or other nonsense. Every month, her contact gave her a bunch of codes, told her to destroy the old ones, erase all messages, and never back anything up to the cloud. The latter turned out to be the hardest, given smartphones hated when users didn’t share everything on them with the company that made the phone. Hence her use of paper, even if it made her feel positively ancient.

This code had no reply attached to it. So she didn’t send one. Instead, she deleted the message as required.

While in the book, she checked the other codes for today, then pocketed it.

“Why tonight?” she mumbled, looking at the racks of unfilled vials. She’d only gotten through maybe a third of the delivery. “I thought I had another week? And what cherry blossom blooms in winter? And it’s not even winter yet.”

Her whining accomplished little. Realizing she’d have to hand over what she had, Ally sealed up the most dangerous of her catalysts and materials, such as the liquid component. Then she prepared the vials ready for delivery in unmarked cartons in another room.

While doing so, she set a half-dozen of the highest quality of both healing and magic-restoration aside. Vince might not need that many and she still kept some stock in the store, but she preferred to have enough to meet his needs than not. Her cheeks reddened a little as she recalled his visits.

Then a scowl crossed her face due to the presence of a certain harpy during the latest. Sure, Nicki had been a boon for her sales, particularly as she’d shown back up to buy a few more illusion dyes this past week, and even a regular magical dye for her hair, but Ally disliked taking her money. Mostly because she knew it was Vince’s money.

Ally placed Vince’s stash of infusions in a safe beneath the store counter. Her tails swayed as she did so, her mind wandering.

Had she made a mistake giving him so much help? Discounting his magical focus and then the infusions he bought from her. She hadn’t truly lied when she said it was to get him to visit again, but her reasons to convince him to visit weren’t truly commercial.

But how long had it been since somebody happily interacted with her as though she was just a regular shopkeep? Not since she’d come here from New York. Foxes placed themselves on a pedestal here, and she wasn’t welcome on that pedestal. The result had been ostracism from all sides of society.

Vince hadn’t cared. Sure, she might just be selling him stuff, but didn’t all her romance books start with humble beginnings?

Well, not all of them. Some of them involved being captured by ancient dragons or kyuubi. They tended to be bullies, which she felt certain Vince wasn’t. So surely she had a chance with him, right? Despite the smells on him.

A knock on the door broke her free from her thoughts. She yelped and hit her head on the counter and her phone slid from her pocket.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she whined, falling to her knees and creeping back out. “He’s already here? I thought…”

She shook her head while rubbing it. Placing her phone on the counter, she approached the door.

The moment she got close, a familiar voice cut through the silence of the night.

“A wolf howls at the moon, but what does a fox howl at?” a brusque male voice asked, clearly Japanese from the accent. She was very familiar with Japanese accents from back home. Her father’s was even thicker than this one.

Ally bit her lip. She recalled the answer to this from looking at her notepad earlier, but her fingers gripped it in her apron pocket regardless.

“Disloyalty,” she said.

The voice grunted in affirmation. “Good. Now let me in. It’s fucking cold out here.”

Maybe he should try some warming spells or buy a tool that kept him heated. Most enforcers usually had something on hand to help, after all. Perhaps Ally was being mean.

She undid the chain and undid the bolt on the door, then reached for the lock on the knob itself.

Her phone buzzed. She froze.

Who could possibly be messaging her at this time? It might just be her father…

“What’s wrong?” the voice asked.

How hasty. An odd feeling struck Ally. She pulled out her notepad while walking back to the counter.

No, his question was the correct one for a meeting today. Perhaps Ally was jumping at ghosts.

She checked her phone.

A new message from her contact, the Chivalrous Catalyst.

Don’t open the door for him!

Her tails and fox ears shot bolt upright as Ally’s heart nearly exploded out of her chest. She gasped and clutched her phone.

What did this mean? Who was at her door?

“Hey! Answer me, Alexandra! Open up! The kumicho himself will hear of this,” the being outside her store shouted through the door.

Ally stared at the door. She instantly knew that whoever stood out there, they weren’t the man she’d been dealing with over the past several months.

Her eyes locked onto the open bolt and chain. She dashed toward the door.

A thunderous slam nearly caused her to trip in the process. The doorframe shimmered as the magic reinforcing it was tested by the attacker. With the building between her and the attacker, Ally couldn’t sense what magic he used. But if he’d visibly triggered the wards, she knew he was strong.

Her hands slammed the bolt closed and she did up the chain. She backed away as the attacker railed futilely against the door. Light burst around the entrance with each attempt.

Yet no more messages came through her phone. She sent one back, asking for help. No reply.

Every time the door thundered, she worried it would burst open to reveal some horrendous demonic monstrosity like she’d been told Immanuel kept hidden within its enforcer ranks.

Ally shook herself. She needed to either escape or arm herself.

Looking around, all she saw were the many tools and foci she sold. None were bound to her, and her best tools remained upstairs, locked away.

She needed to retrieve her focus and equip herself. Even if she escaped, the attacker might pursue her.

Then again, she only needed to run one street over to—

A thought froze her in place. Her store sat right next to a busy fast food joint, which ran 24/7. Shouldn’t somebody notice an attack here? Countless birdfolk flew overhead every minute.

“Illusions,” she muttered to herself.

A fox, she realized. The worst enemy to face.

And she knew exactly who had sent this man after her. Her tails flared out as she rushed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. The thumping at her door continued, unabated.

She made it through the door of her workshop only to stop dead.

A man with short black hair and five black fox tails stood in front of her, snarling. “Nice door ward. You forgot the windows.”

Gasping, Ally’s tails blurred as she tried to cast a spell. His hand snapped out and a force closed around her neck. Her concentration shattered as a white glow surrounded the attacker’s hand, likely matched by a white shimmer around her neck that she couldn’t see.

Her body raised itself into the air when he lifted his hand, then he twitched his wrist and reeled her in with his telekinesis.

“We gave you plenty of warnings. Too many,” the black-tailed fox said. “Now you’ve gone too far by helping the mafia. You should have left when you had the chance.”

The mafia? When had she ever helped them?

Ally tried to do something. Her legs kicked out, but only struck her chair and knocked it over. Attempting to channel a spell as her consciousness faded proved futile. The fox merely glared at her.

“I guess I’ll do you one favor,” he said. “You’re a fox. You should die like one. Gracefully.”

He raised his other hand in a chopping motion. Given the affinities of foxes, Ally strongly suspected he planned to strike her body directly. She’d been taught weaker attacks by her mother. Force blasts and the like that could repel attackers.

Useless right now.

His hand lowered as a powerful surge of magic rippled throughout the workshop.

Nothing happened.

Then his body split apart down the center and collapsed to the ground. Blood and gore cascaded all over the floor. Ally fell into it and screamed, her hands slipping on the floor boards as she rushed away from the corpse that practically exploded next to her.

Floating in the air behind where the fox had stood was a suited figure with short black wings and a blood red tengu mask. No blood stains marred her clothing.

At least, Ally felt certain the figure was a she. Only a single tengu inhabited Aulfair to her knowledge.

“You… you’re…” Ally tried to ask, now free of the blood and suitably in awe of the woman in her workshop.

The tengu removed her mask, revealing the face of a young, beautiful Japanese woman that looked more at place on some sort of model than a stoic enforcer. Possibly because she had been. What little Ally knew of tengu suggested they could possess humans, and she sensed no glamor or illusion in place.

“My humble apologies for arriving so late,” the tengu said in perfect Japanese, although her manner of speaking felt archaic. “I came as soon as I received word that your handler had been accosted by Houou, but was unfortunately preoccupied with affairs involving the rest of the organization.”

Ally bit her lip. Emotions warred within her.

She wanted to scream at the woman for not arriving sooner, but also wanted to thank her profusely. Another part simply wanted to cry. She hadn’t been this close to death, ever.

Yet the entire reason she flirted with dying dwelled with the very organization depicted by the small black and gold button pin on the tengu’s lapel.

“Can you help me clean up? Then we talk?” Ally asked in a small voice.

The tengu blinked at her then looked at her mask. A few awkward moments passed before Ally realized the tengu couldn’t speak or understand English.

Ally repeated herself in Japanese, if a touch awkwardly. She barely spoke the language with anyone other than Mama, even if she had used it more since arriving in Aulfair.

The tengu looked at the mess on the workshop floor and frowned so slightly that Ally struggled to ascribe the motion to her.

With a wave of her hand, the blood, gore, and both halves of the body swirled into the air. They whirled around and compacted. The tengu then crushed her palms together. A crack rung out through the workshop.

A small blood red bead dropped to the floor. Ally winced at the noise it made.

“You may keep it. I imagine it may be a useful catalyst for a focus or tool,” the tengu said, still speaking Japanese. “I cannot clean you, however. If you wish to bathe, please be quick.”

Ally’s heart raced. “Are more of Houou’s enforcers coming?”

“Perhaps. That matters little, as I am happy to turn them into catalysts as well.” The tengu pursed her lips. “It is unlikely, however. They have overstepped their bounds by assaulting you. This will cost them gravely in the legal courts, to say little of the court of public opinion. The traitors move in the open rarely for good reason, and to strike a struggling shopkeeper is a fell deed indeed.”

Ally nodded, but only half followed what had been said. “I, um, I’ll be quick.”

She stepped past the tengu, who didn’t budge from the center of the room. The immortal bird seemed enamored by her workshop and pivoted on the spot, her neck turning at impossible angles to take in the sights. Mostly the many catalysts Ally kept.

A small bathroom with a shower sat in the back. While Ally maintained her own apartment nearby, many store owners kept expenses down by living above their shop. She mostly used the amenities here to remain fresh if she worked overnight.

Getting the blood out of her clothes might be impossible on short notice. She kept spares in an adjoining room and retrieved those before bathing.

Once finished, she returned to her workshop. The tengu had finally moved. She peered into the open carton full of infusion vials.

“Um, those are for you,” Ally said.

“No. It is not yet time for delivery,” the tengu said. “While you bathed, it occurred to me I have yet to introduce myself. I am Kiyoko.”

“I’m Alexandra. Call me Ally.”

“I know who you are, child of Kazuo Masuda,” Kiyoko said, staring at Ally with vivid blue eyes that felt deeply inhuman. “Your father’s contributions to our chivalrous organizations is the very reason I came to protect you myself, even though I was busy carrying out my wakagashira’s orders. As the fuku-honbucho, I rarely have the time to spare for menial labor.”

Ally tried not to look too confused. She failed.

Yes, she knew of her father’s past in the Yakuza. The full body sleeve tattoo that covered his body spoke to his past, as did his many scars, and his immense magical capabilities. Not many humans succeeded at wooing a mystic fox.

Yet he’d done everything to keep her distant from that past. She knew his friends, including some new ones he’d made in New York, but nothing of what they actually did. He’d long since retired from whatever he did for the Yakuza and settled down as a family man. The names and titles thrown about by Kiyoko meant little to Ally.

The tengu sighed, realizing this. “He has sheltered you greatly. That is no grand crime, I suppose. You should consider me the number three in the Yakuza, then, although that is a gross oversimplification of how our organization works but it shall suffice. Above me is the wakagashira, the boss of all enforcers, and she carries out the direct orders of the kumicho, the boss of the Yakuza in Aulfair.”

“I know the kumicho,” Ally said quietly. “We met.”

“Indeed you did. It was she that took you in when Houou sought to shutter you for merely being related to the past that they cannot stand to look back on, traitors that they are.” Kiyoko’s eyes darkened. “But I’ve spoken too much. The kumicho awaits.”

Panic rose in Ally. “What?”

“Events have transpired tonight. Your handler was to find you tomorrow, after I informed him of them, but Houou struck first. War is imminent. The kumicho believes you can help. We have offered you all that we have, and have asked little in return.”

Ally understood.

When her business came close to ruin, the only underground entity willing to assist her had turned out to be the one hated by all the rest. It just so happened that a change was taking place within it, unbeknownst to the conglomerates that ran Aulfair.

Now the source of that change appeared to be going public, and they were calling in the favor owed them in exchange for the financial aid they’d given Ally. The interest-free loan they’d given her turned out not to be quite as interest-free as advertised.

“Are we going now?” she asked.

“Yes. Enforcers have already arrived to defend this place should Houou take rash action,” Kiyoko said.

Despite that, the tengu didn’t leave. She instead peered at the workshop desk.

“Um, did you need infusions?” Ally asked.

“Did you supply these infusions to anybody else?”

Ally bit her lip, then nodded. “They’re in demand right now, so—”

“How many?” Kiyoko’s tone remained unchanging, but Ally sensed the danger in it.

“Just one. Nobody else will…” Ally didn’t need to say the rest.

For some reason, Kiyoko appeared pleased. “That explains much. While not explaining anything at all. How curious. Your skills as an alchemist far outstrip my own, yet I know that these infusions are lethal to humans simply from the ingredients.”

“Not lethal!” Ally snapped. “Just… only suitable when they’re absolutely necessary.”

She’d learned that the hard way when Vince collapsed after drinking the magic-restoration infusion. Even so, he’d been so interested in buying more that she struggled to refuse him. She sincerely hoped they didn’t hurt him.

“Let us leave,” Kiyoko said, her curiosity satisfied. She slid on her tengu mask before leaving.

They stepped into the street, and the streetlamps bathed them in light. A pair of suited enforcers tapped their pins as they passed Kiyoko and entered Ally’s store, presumably to protect it.

Kiyoko then stared at Ally and held out her arms. Long, painful seconds passed.

“You want to carry me,” Ally said flatly.

“It is necessary,” Kiyoko said emotionlessly.

With the mask on, she now spoke in English, but it sounded deeply artificial and distorted. A whisper of her Japanese still reached Ally. The mask was translating Kiyoko’s words and presumably English spoken around her.

“I’m not one to be carried,” Ally insisted.

“I believe you are reading too much into this.”

Pouting, Ally allowed herself to be picked up by Kiyoko. The tengu then shot into the sky at full speed, without even beating her wings to produce lift or accelerate. Her magic granted her flight, after all.

They soared south-west away from downtown and toward the less developed areas of the city. Industrial areas dominated the immediate south of the harbor, and suburbia stretched into the hinterland. Sparse attempts to increase the density of the regions closest to the harbor popped up here and there, and an unfinished stadium dominated the skyline.

So far as Ally knew, that stadium had been under construction since time immemorial. She’d moved in and not a single day of work had been done on it. The news suggested the project had collapsed nearly a decade ago, and everyone still involved made their money feasting on the public funds still spilling into the money pit. Despite Houou’s immense presence in the construction industry, they steered well clear.

Kiyoko descended reasonably close to the stadium. An old Chinese restaurant stood in a large parking lot, with an abandoned bar next to it. Ancient tenements lined the streets nearby, but much of the vicinity appeared to be suburbia. Cars filled the parking lot despite the awful hour and the lack of a bar.

“Follow me,” Kiyoko said, her voice now distorted by some form of magic in her tengu mask.

They entered the restaurant. While the exterior appeared old and unmaintained, the interior exuded modernity and wealth. A long black marble bar stretched past the entrance, with counters that were mostly full of Asian men drinking and catgirl bartenders serving them.

Only half the restaurant stuck to the Chinese theme, however. Golden lamps hung over oak wooden tables and black booths on the left side. One small group enjoyed a late meal by themselves.

Everyone else ate in the other half, which appeared to utilize the space that should have been the abandoned bar seen from the outside. Chefs of all races worked under a single fox to prepare sushi and other Japanese food for an almost full house of suited Yakuza, who all had bottles of sake at their tables.

“Sit,” Kiyoko said, gesturing at a stool by the bar. She then looked at the closest bartender. “Her drinks are on the house.”

Confident her orders would be carried out, Kiyoko vanished through a door behind the bar.

The catgirl nodded and rushed over to Ally. Before the fox could sit down, the bartender wiped down the stool. She then flitted back behind the bar.

“What’s your fancy?” she asked in a Brooklyn accent that made Ally instantly feel at home.

The fox giggled at the feeling. She’d been expecting another Japanese accent, given the catgirl’s appearance and the split tail at the end.

“Sorry,” she said when given a weird look. “Um, just green tea.”

“Tea. Right, I can do that,” the bartender said, before disappearing out the back.

Evidently green tea wasn’t a common request.

Ally fiddled with her phone. The other patrons ignored her, almost certainly due to walking in with Kiyoko. Anyone without a pin wouldn’t talk with the Yakuza without being approached here, she bet, and the Yakuza wouldn’t approach her without good reason.

So she checked the news while waiting for her drink.

The top news was all about the conference. She’d already read everything related to this, so scrolled past.

Then she saw a photo of Lionetti Tower lit up with its full protective barrier, with the lights of police birdfolk glittering in the sky around it. Her heart sank. She’d seen something lighting up the night sky to the north as she flew over, but hadn’t imagined this.

Vince worked for the Lionettis, didn’t he? Is this why she’d been attacked? That fox had mentioned the mafia, after all.

“Got your tea,” the catgirl said, returning with a large cup of solid green liquid.

Ally thanked her, then looked at her drink.

Matcha, rather than green tea. She supposed that the bartender might have thought it was fancier, given it involved more prep work. Ally would enjoy it regardless. Or try to, given the news.

Ally pocketed her phone, but struggled to get past the sinking feeling in her body. Had she said goodbye to Vince without realizing it? When tears rose to her eyes, she brushed them away.

“She’s ready for you,” Kiyoko said, abruptly returning.

They descended down a set of stairs behind the bar. Darkness surrounded them, but her eyes adjusted rapidly, enabling her to see as if the room were reasonably well lit.

More enforcers waited for them, kneeling in two ranks in a small hall. A wooden dais stood at the far end, with curtains drawn around them. Magic shimmered in the fabric of the curtains, presumably to prevent anyone from penetrating them. Ally couldn’t see if anyone hid behind them.

Kiyoko sat immediately in front of the dais and faced the entrance, then gestured for Ally to kneel in front of her.

Ally almost turned, but Kiyoko stopped her. So she kneeled, facing the dais.

“Honorable president, I present you Alexandra Masuda, daughter of Kazuo Masuda, as you requested,” Kiyoko said, her voice still distorted. Ally barely heard her say “kumicho” at the same time she heard “president,” suggesting that the translation spell worked very literally.

The curtains parted and the lights flickered on. Ally found herself blinded for a moment.

When her vision returned, she saw an eight-tailed fox laying on a cushion atop the dais. Her silver tails and gorgeous silver hair cascaded across the wood and even down it. She held a metal folding fan in one hand, which was decorated with the Japanese military flag: a white background with a rising red sun and beams of red stretching from it. A questionably cut kimono in black and blue floral patterns allowed her thighs and abundant cleavage to spill out.

“It’s been some time, Ally,” the kumichoand leader of Aulfair’s Yakuza said.

“Mei,” Ally said.

Every single body in the hall stiffened, save Ally’s and Mei’s. The elder fox laughed and the tips of her tails danced in the air.

“Calm yourselves,” Mei said. “Ally is a personal friend. Somebody who I wish to welcome into the fold and whose mind shall be enriched with the knowledge of her homeland, even if her mother left it long ago.”

Kiyoko’s face flickered. Ally felt certain she saw anger on it for that brief moment.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mei, but I assume you have business,” Ally said cautiously.

She disliked the way the other fox spoke about Japan and her parents. Mostly because her mother never came up, except in a negative sense like this. Her father could do no wrong, as he’d clearly come here in service to the Yakuza or at least maintained enough connections. But Mei, and presumably Kiyoko, held some grudge against her mother for leaving Japan over a century ago.

“I do. You’re right to cut through the niceties, given the time. We can catch up over tea another day. Perhaps next week? I imagine will be downtown frequently.” Mei looked at Kiyoko. “Kiyo, see to organizing something.”

“I shall, honorable president,” Kiyoko said.

“Excellent. Now, to business.” Mei snapped her fan open and shut for effect. “Houou’s machinations in Albion proved both more and less effective than we anticipated. We have been watching and waiting for the ideal time to strike from the shadows and tear off their tails, but have been forced to act.”

Ally gulped. “Lionetti Tower.”

“Indeed. They hired powerful operatives once again to defeat the wolves that escaped them last time. And they failed. Not a single one of their priority targets perished and the city knows it. Every conglomerate has witnessed the shame of Houou’s failure to once again crush an ailing gang that hangs onto scraps of the territory and power they once held.”

“… I don’t understand.”

“If Houou cannot destroy even a minor power such as the Lionettis, for all their power and influence, then they’re weaker than we imagined. So we chose to step in and… assist the Lionettis with their power struggle. My predecessor learned the shame of going into battle without allies, when your foe can rally the city.” Mei’s eyes narrowed. “And, it seems, the Lionettis learned the same lesson. One of their allies is known to you.”

Ally stared at Mei for several long seconds.

So long that Kiyoko took this for confusion. “Vincent Keys. A young thug typically associated with Immanuel and a storied police record, although more of it is sealed than one might expect from somebody so low in enforcer status. He made the news—”

“I know Vince,” Ally interrupted, realizing this was a faux pas but annoyed at the explanation. “He’s my newest customer.”

“That must be quite the boon then, to have the Lionettis also supporting your endeavors,” Mei purred.

Ally bit her lip. “Not… exactly.”

If Mei knew Vince had come to her store, she also knew the Lionettis hadn’t.

“It’s no problem. I supported you so that your store might thrive. Success as a kitsune, even one separated from her Japanese heritage, should not be tied to association with the miserable foxes of Houou,” Mei said. “And it’s this relationship I want you to assist with. The Lionetti Family is bound to resist association with us. Yet you know Vince. So my request is simple.”

Ally waited to hear this simple request, which she knew would test her budding relationship with Vince.

Hearing no denials, Mei pressed on, “I wish to meet him. Perhaps even next week, when the two of us catch up over tea? If I have the ear of the Lionetti’s dragon, then I shall have the ear of the sisters that control the mafia itself. That is my request: bring him to me.”

- - - - -

Commentary: And so the Yakuza make their move and liven things up. Also, you finally get to see what's going on with Ally and her shady background.

I usually avoid including Japanese terms, but now I'm potentially including a bunch that might turn off readers. It's a difficult balance that I'm probably not achieving. The switching of languages is also difficult, even if it adds to Kiyoko's characterization.

Anyway, that's all the Mob Sorcery/Enforcer chapters I'll post for the time being. Spellblade is being a pain, but I should have chapters up by this weekend.

I am curious to hear what everyone's thoughts on the series are at this stage, particularly after a big shift to action (to handle an overhanging plot thread) compared to the lighter fare of Book 1.