His son’s eyes flared as he scrambled to his feet. “What about my friends?”

Ryukage stood, then looked around at all the useless humans who were fighting his army.

And losing.

Badly.

They were all so pathetic. Why was his son attached to such worthless creatures?

He sighed. “Oh, them? Why, yes. I do quite want to kill them. They are all, to be frank, terrible people.”

Screwing up his face, Ryuichi glared at him with utter contempt and anger. “They’re my friends.”

“And you’ve chosen them poorly. A drunk who abuses you. A liar who raised you. And an idiot”—he gestured toward Masaru—“who betrayed you.”

Ryuichi followed his father’s gesture to lock gazes with a confused Masaru. While he might not be the best ally, it didn’t change the fact that he owed a lot to that kitsune.

And unlike his father, he had loyalty. “Masaru has done his best. He⁠—”

“Split your soul, son,” his father finished for him. “Into two pieces. Two pieces,” he repeated for effect. “You may never ever be whole again.”

That was a terrifying prospect. Though, to be honest, he and his shadow were in harmony at the moment.

“I don’t believe you.” And why should he? His father was known for his lies.

For deception.

His father sighed at Ryuichi’s resolve. “You’ve come far. Much farther than I could have ever hoped for. And yet there is so much more for you to learn. I can only hope that you’ll see the truth. Truth of me and the truth of you. See how much of my blood you carry.”

“I will never be like you. I could never forsake my honor.”

“Fair enough.” His father tightened his grip on him. “Such a shame, really. You came so close to your true destiny. But I can wait for you to spend enough time around humans that you’ll see them for the lying hypocrites they all are.”

“Have you noticed that your army is forsaking you?”

His father cast his glance around.

Sure enough, the tengu were running.

His father let out a deep, evil growl. “Figures. After all, they’re birdbrained. Good with a sword. Not much else.”

Then he turned that dark, evil glare toward Ryuichi. “If you want something done right . . .” His gaze went to Ryuichi’s closest friends. “Perhaps I’ll kill the drunk first.”

Those words seared him.

His father intended to kill Koichi.

No! He had to do something.

Ryuichi glanced to Masaru, who was out cold on the ground . . . or maybe dead. That last thought terrified him. Had his father already killed his guardian?

He looked at the others. Everything was still out of hand.

Then he heard a sweet voice . . . “Light is light. Dark is dark. If you wish to kill the beast, strike his heart.”

At first it sounded like Haruki.