Osaki

By Remmy Duchene

Once a samurai, always a Shiver...

Kofi Olabasu needs a vacation. He's spent so much time looking out for his brother and working that he's completely neglected himself. To make matters worse, feelings for a man are driving him crazy. The moment Kofi feels Osaki, he knows something is about to change. Confused about his attraction to Osaki, he agrees to take a vacation and accepts Osaki's offer of being Kofi's tour guide in Japan. However, nothing is as it seems. Soon every dark corner is filled with danger and those who wish to do him harm.

Osaki has a lot on his plate and love is the last thing he has time for. Not only does he have to get used to his new powers as a Shiver and all the training it involves, but he also finds himself being drawn to a human—though Kofi makes it clear he's into women—and Osaki must respect the man's wishes. All Osaki really has to do is focus on training and being the best tour guide possible for Kofi. But nothing ever goes as planned and soon rogue Shivers are popping out of the woodwork, hell-bent on destroying Osaki for his inheritance. It soon becomes quite clear that they want him dead, and they're not afraid to use Kofi as leverage—or as collateral damage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Apr 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781784304980

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A Totally Bound Publication

Osaki

ISBN # 978-1-78430-498-0

©Copyright Remmy Duchene 2015

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright March 2015

Edited by Faith Bicknell-Brown

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 2.

Shivers

OSAKI

Remmy Duchene

Book two in the Shivers series

Once a samurai, always a Shiver...

Kofi Olabasu needs a vacation. He’s spent so much time looking out for his brother and working that he’s completely neglected himself. To make matters worse, feelings for a man are driving him crazy. The moment Kofi feels Osaki, he knows something is about to change. Confused about his attraction to Osaki, he agrees to take a vacation and accepts Osaki’s offer of being Kofi’s tour guide in Japan. However, nothing is as it seems. Soon every dark corner is filled with danger and those who wish to do him harm.

Osaki has a lot on his plate and love is the last thing he has time for. Not only does he have to get used to his new powers as a Shiver and all the training it involves, but he also finds himself being drawn to a human—though Kofi makes it clear he’s into women—and Osaki must respect the man’s wishes. All Osaki really has to do is focus on training and being the best tour guide possible for Kofi. But nothing ever goes as planned and soon rogue Shivers are popping out of the woodwork, hell-bent on destroying Osaki for his inheritance. It soon becomes quite clear that they want him dead, and they’re not afraid to use Kofi as leverage—or as collateral damage.

Dedication

To all those in the closet—do not reveal yourself until you are ready. And remember, you are not broken. You are positively fabulous.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Chicken Little: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

Bluetooth: Bluetooth Sig, Inc.

Godzilla: Toho Company, Ltd.

The Maltese Falcon: Comair Rotron, Inc.

Scarface: Universal City Studios, LLC.

The Matrix: Warner Brothers

Commando: Twentieth Century Fox

Pinky and the Brain: Warner Brothers Entertainment, Inc.

Poltergeist: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Inc.

Pyrex: Corning, Inc.

Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

Cheetos: Frito-Lay North America, Inc.

Prologue

When the face in the mirror doesn’t please you, turn it into a canvas.–Tablo

Earth, Nippon, 1470

The Ōnin War had been waging for three years with no end in sight. Thousands of men, women and children had fallen. The dirt of central Kyōto had long since gone red with the blood of those who had perished, including Hirosuke Osaki’s whole family. They were casualties of the never-ending civil war—collateral damage—and somehow that didn’t seem fair. His heart was heavy and still he fought. He was alone in the world, because a mother thought her son did not have to fight for what he gained in life. With a blood-covered hand, he held the wound against his left side, feeling the blood seeping hot through his fingers. He knew he was as good as dead but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—go without a fight.

The air was ripe with the stench of the dead and dying and the winds picking up strength did not help. It carried the stench strongly to Osaki’s nose and it made him want to hurl.

The day’s sun fell over the bodies, burning them, hastening the bad smell. He felt sick to his stomach but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Everywhere he looked, there were bodies among the soldiers that remained after the latest attacks. Though there was quiet then—deathly silence—he knew the war was not over.

His hair fluttered in the wind as he reached up and sheathed his sword. Every muscle ached terribly. The wound he was holding bled more with his movements and he gritted his teeth. Another man stood a short distance from him—a strange man, a man who gave off an air of the battle scarred. He was tall with long, dark hair and from what Hirosuke Osaki could remember, this man’s eyes were filled with a storm that sent shivers down Hirosuke Osaki’s spine.

There was something about the stranger, something Osaki couldn’t quite put his finger on, but Osaki did not question it. The man was on his side and thus a friend. The rest of Hirosuke Osaki’s men were busy checking on the dead. He took a breath and moved from where he’d been standing. Two steps later, movement caught his attention from the corner of his eyes. He knew it was bad, for the sun played off the attacker’s sword. Osaki screamed something even his mind couldn’t decipher and knew instantly that his friend would not react in time. Though weak from the battle and his wound, Osaki pulled his sword and stepped into action.

He shoved his soldier out of the way just as the attacker’s sword sliced through Osaki’s back. An involuntary gasp escaped Osaki and he looked down to see the very tip of the metal weapon sticking through his stomach. There was a sickening, sucking noise of the sword being pulled back, but the damage was done. His head went dazed then pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before pulsated through him. There was a sound, almost like someone gargling water. He wasn’t sure where it came from for his mind could barely hold a thought. The only thing he could even get out was that he was dying. He slumped to his knees, pressing both hands to the opening in his stomach as a flurry of activity began happening around him. A body hit the ground beside him before he fell face first into the dirt rich with the blood of the others.

Hirosuke Osaki!

Strong hands turned Osaki over and he blinked so his dying mind could recognize who was looking down into his face. It was the soldier with the beautiful eyes, the one who Osaki didn’t know but respected, for he was a soldier on the side of good. Tears slipped down the man’s cheeks, which confused Osaki.

They say only…gods cry for the just. Why are you crying? Osaki asked.

Because, Hirosuke Osaki, you are just.

Osaki’s eyes widened. And you are a god…

Yes.

Ares…

Yes.

Osaki gasped, gurgling around the foul taste of blood rising in his throat. Why do you not stop this?

Because humans have free will, Ares replied. They chose this. Greed and jealousy are the wings this war is flying on. I cannot simply stop it.

Darkness fell over Osaki’s eyes and he blinked. This time Ares’ face was just a blur of a dark spot and some hair. Then I die because of a choice.

No, Hirosuke Osaki. You die because of two choices. And for that, you shall be rewarded. You shall walk among my people.

Osaki smiled—at least he hoped he smiled. Though he wanted to say more, the words just wouldn’t flow from his lips for his mind was gone and the darkness beckoned.

* * * *

Present day

Blindfolded, Osaki stood with the wind blowing against him. His trench coat flapped around his ankles. The sand stinging his face was mildly annoying more than anything else. Inhaling, Osaki used a new skill Ciro had taught him, allowing the lance to materialize in his hand. He pointed the tip toward the ground, slid his legs apart to brace himself and waited. This wouldn’t have been his weapon of choice, but Ciro had insisted that he learn to wield it.

To make matters worse, Osaki couldn’t seem to clear his mind fast enough. Everything was interfering with his head. Holding his breath, he mentally counted to ten then exhaled in a low whoosh out of his mouth. That did nothing to help the situation. If anything, it made the voices in his mind scream louder.

He wasn’t ready, but the attack came.

Osaki brought his lance up to slam into Ciro’s. The sound of metal on metal echoed through the void of the barren space. He was pushed backward, kicking up dust. He twirled beneath another of Ciro’s attacks and rooted himself. Osaki’s shoulders rose and fell while he waited. Inside his head, he was trying to figure out Ciro’s next move.

Osaki surged off the dusty ground, slid through the air, zigzagging as he went. Though he climbed at the speed of wind, he wasn’t fast enough. Ciro was on him in no time and the battle resumed. The sound of metal colliding filled the air once more, clouding his senses and blocking any feel he could get from Ciro. It didn’t help that adrenaline pumped through him like a waterfall into a river.

Suddenly, Ciro slammed a fist into his chest and, without being able to stop, Osaki sailed through the air and crashed into the ground. His throat stung with the dust he’d swallowed and his back hurt fiercely from the fall. Frustrated and angry with himself, Osaki lay there, reaching up only to remove the blindfold with his free hand. When he turned his head for the lance—it was gone.

Osaki knew for sure that he’d never become a real Shiver or be able to protect the Earth and fight beside Ciro and his crew. He just couldn’t get it together.

Son of a… Osaki allowed his head to fall to the surface as his chest heaved with exertion. This is not going to work.

Not if you keep thinking that. Ciro landed by his head and hunched down to peer into his eyes. The Shiver’s eyes danced with curiosity. Come on, Osaki. You are samurai. You fight to the end.

Pardon my short temper, but that is a load of crap—and you know it.

No. You will get this. It has only been a short while. Ciro offered his hand. This will take time.

Osaki muttered something under his breath but accepted the hand. Ciro pulled him to his feet. Time is something I don’t have. This is taking too long.

You just need to clear your mind, Ciro advised. Everything that happened outside each battle, let it go. A shiver needs all his faculties about him, for his mind controls everything.

That is just it, Osaki replied, brushing off the back of his coat. As a samurai I needed skills and my mind. They both depended on each other. Hell, you controlled a storm while you battled Aerios.

Ciro smiled as a father would to his son. But I would not be here if you had not saved me. Remember that part?

I did not do anything of the sort.

Believe what you will. Ciro shrugged. I will always be grateful you saved me so I could finish the fight and get home to the man I love.

Osaki eyed him for a silent moment, wondering briefly if he would get a second chance at love. He had to stop thinking like that. It was weakness. What is this place? he asked in an effort to change the subject.

It is called the Waste Land. It is where Mother keeps her storms when they are not needed.

Tell me truly, Ciro. Do you think I can do this? I do not wish to disappoint you. You have given me this gift—a second chance—and I feel as if I am not grasping this to your expectations.

My friend, it matters not what my expectations are. Being a Shiver is not easy for those born to it. I can only imagine how difficult it is for you. You have time.

You keep saying that. This war will—

Will be there. There’s always some being, some angry person wanting to blow this little planet out of existence. There will always be a war. Right now, you must focus on controlling these powers or they will control you.

Osaki held Ciro’s gaze for a moment longer before nodding. I should get back to Olympus.

I am heading to my husband, Ciro said with a wide grin. It feels so good to say that.

I bet. There is nothing better than being in love with someone you know returns the sentiment. I am happy for you.

Thank you, my friend. I will see you—as Carter says—when I see you.

Osaki laughed but nodded. In a flash, Ciro was gone and he was left alone in the Waste Land. For a moment, he allowed the lance to appear in his hand. He stared at it, watching the way it glistened in the sun. Clearing his mind, he watched it disappear. This is going to take some getting used to.

Chapter One

People eat with these things? Ares asked, knitting his eyebrows in confusion while trying desperately to pick up a pea with a pair of chopsticks. The pea went flying and everyone at the table erupted in laughter.

Oh please tell me the great God of War is not having issues with a pair of chopsticks! Hercules teased before arching backward in his mirth.

I am not used to them, Ares replied, still trying to use the chopsticks. This time he tried for a piece of chicken. The chopsticks slipped and the meat sailed across the table. Kofi eased to the right and caught it in his mouth. Ares then hurled the sticks behind him and picked up a fork.

It’s an acquired skill, Carter assured Ares. You’ll get it.

It took me three years to learn, Ciro spoke up. And I am still not as good as I should be.

They laughed again but Kofi said nothing. He sat there, watching what was happening around the table, and though he was happy to have them all there, he still felt alone. His brother kissed Ciro quickly on the lips before Ciro wiped away something from Carter’s cheek. Kofi refocused on his plate and lifted a piece of beef to his mouth.

Kofi, you said you were taking time away from your job? Adrestia questioned. What would you fill your time with?

Kofi looked up and shrugged. I’m not sure. I just know I need a little time off.

Well, you could visit us at the North Shores, Koi offered. And you do not have to be dead to visit.

Carter laughed. That’s a perk. Trust me.

Kofi promised them he’d think about it. The truth was that he didn’t really like the idea, since the North Shores was Carter’s thing. He had no reason to visit but there was no need bringing everyone else down. He took a sip from his glass and slipped back into his head while the others turned their attention to Hercules, who was regaling them with tales of his trials.

While the others talked and laughed in the backyard, Kofi Olabasu feigned exhaustion and excused himself. He could feel his brother’s gaze following him. Pausing, he smiled at Carter before stepping into the house. He stopped for a moment to pour some whiskey on ice then turned for the stairs leading to his art room.

At dinner, he hadn’t managed to eat much, just enough so there wouldn’t be any questions. Each forkful that had entered his mouth had tasted strange. His stomach had lurched and cramped with each swallow. Kofi thought he was coming down with something. Suddenly, he just didn’t feel like himself. Gripping the banister, he climbed the stairs and walked into the art room he’d had built onto his place. Though he hadn’t used the room for more than five years, he’d bought new paints with brushes and begun working on stuff again right after Carter’s wedding. It’d been a little over six months since Carter had married his Shiver boyfriend in a lavish ceremony in Greece at some ancient castle, and the two of