Tears and Shadow (kitsune series) Page 13

  The guys crumpled, and I dived into the next couple. The bunch of us went down in a sprawled tangle. I kicked someone in the head, but pulled it just before contact, taking care not to put an eye out with the stiletto heel. The guy overplayed his role, grunting loudly, throwing himself back as if I’d all but taken his head off.

  I heard grunts and the sound of blows and knew Seiza and Ryuuza were cutting loose too. There followed a soft hissing, and I smelled a chemical stench. White smoke gusted over me. Smoke bombs.

  Aimi ran past by without a word or glance. I guess she just expected people to fight for her, total stranger or not.

  The bodyguards ran up and hit the last guy moving who’d grabbed my wrist. All the gunmen were now down, though not fatally so. Ryuuza smiled and hauled me to my feet. Respect warmed her dark stare. “C’mon. More could be coming.”

  We reached the street where Aimi climbed into a white stretch Hummer with front and back facing seats behind the driver, some middle-aged guy in a uniform and cap. Aimi slid across the seats. I was shoved in next to her and followed by Ryuuza. Seiza slid in to ride shotgun beside the driver. The doors slammed. We burnt rubber roaring away, and I was pressed back in the seat. The Hummer tore through islands of light, as we passed streetlights.

  After a while, Ryuuza turned her gaze from the rear window. She spoke across me to Aimi. “It’s clear. We’re not being followed.”

  “Excellent.” Aimi reached over to a bar and pressed a hidden switch that caused a panel to pop open. Inside was a limited selection of handguns. She took out a small, blue-steel automatic and swung the muzzle to point at my face, inches from my nose.

  I held very still, watching her hand, as every impulse screamed for me to cross over. “What the hell?” I said. “Don’t point that thing at me.” I could have escaped instantly to the ghost realm, but … I needed to know where Tukka was, and what security he was under. They wouldn’t use drugs forever. Some ancient forbidden Buddhist black magic was more likely.

  Aimi narrowed her eyes, pressing the muzzle against my forehead.

  Ryuuza said, “Do we really want to get blood all over us and the upholstery? This is a rental. I’m pretty sure the mob will charge us extra for that.”

  Aimi’s gun didn’t waver. “Who are you, and who do you work for? You’re way too good—even for a friend of Caine’s—to be just some girl in a bar.”

  I said the line Virgil had given me, hoping they’d by it. “I just thought we could do business together. I understand you’re looking for a certain sword…”

  A heavy silence filled the Hummer. The gun was pulled from my face, but she kept it pointed at me. Aimi’s stare stabbed Ryuuza. “Strip her. If she’s got a wire, or weapons, I want them found.”

  The bodyguard tugged at my vest. “Hey,” I yelled, “Whatever happened to just patting someone down?”

  Aimi smiled, not without cruelty. “Kunoichi like to be thorough.”

  SIXTEEN

  FILO FALSO: “false edge,” the blunt

  back of the sword that faces the wielder

  The first thing they noticed was the bandage on my left side. I caught Ryuuza’s hand as she reached for it. “I don’t mind if you look, but a little gentleness would be appreciated.” I let her go.

  Slowly, she peeled some of the tape back and pulled the gauze pad away from my skin. “Shuriken?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Seiza spoke from up front, over her headrest, “So, that was you attacking our recovery team.” There was a dangerous focus to her gaze.

  “No,” I said. “Their attack interfered with my job.” I didn’t add that my job wasn’t to steal the sword, but to drool over Shaun while expanding my martial arts knowledge. Silence is not a lie; I was being true to my kitsune heritage.

  Ryuuza replaced the bandage and moved on to the scars on my back where a few weeks ago I’d had mothman wings surgically removed after being forcibly infused with their DNA. The area around my shoulder blades was probed. Equal attention was given to childhood scars across my ribs on the right side; a souvenir of a demon encounter when I was ten. If Tukka hadn’t come along then…

  The inspection left no crack, crevice, hill, or valley unexplored. A furious blush compromised my bravado, and feelings of violation weren’t far away. I was rotated and fondled in such a way that I knew this was more than a simple search. At one point, I was prompted to say, “Sorry, guys, I don’t go both ways.”

  Ryuuza said, “No clan tats, wires, weapons, or surgical implants.”

  Hands across my breasts, I huffed, “If I’d had a boob job, don’t you think they’d be bigger than this?”

  “We’ve dealt with assassins that have had explosives surgically implanted,” Ryuuza said, giving my clothing a twice-over as well. “It’s a brave new millennium.”

  Aimi held out her phone and took a picture.

  “Hey!” I protested. “It’s not nice to perve.”

  “Strictly for blackmail purposes, if need develops. Aimi nodded to Ryuuza. “All right, let her get dressed.”

  Still looking over the front passenger seat, Seiza said, “Too bad, I was enjoying the show.”

  Blankly, I looked at her, wondering if she were joking.

  She grinned in a rather hungry fashion. “I do go both ways.”

  My blush deepened. I dressed hurriedly.

  Aimi put the gun away and made a fizzy drink with maraschino cherries and a twist of lime. She drew a long appreciative sip and cradled the slim glass in her hands, studying me carefully. “I like the outfit.”

  Hmmm. She wasn’t following up on the sword. That was very Japanese; using silence as a negotiating tool. I went along with her change of subject. “Thanks, but I can’t take credit. My mother insisted on dressing me. She doesn’t trust my taste.”

  Aimi sighed. “Yes, they mean well, but don’t know when to step back and give the reins over.” She took another sip. “Well, I promised Caine, so where can we drop you?”

  I rattled off an address Virgil had given me.

  Seiza looked startled. “That’s Wang’s place.”

  Wang’s House of Antiques. I slipped my hands into my vest pockets. “Well, I did give you first shot, but since you’re not interested…” I shrugged.

  “You seem to be in a hurry,” Aimi said.

  “Yeah, well, the former owner has friends in high places, not all of them human. I need to get my cash and go.”

  “I never have a problem finding my prey. Next time, perhaps I’ll let Seiza have you for a while. She’s rough with her toys, but usually gets me what I want.”

  “I see.” My stomach turned to lead, as my mouth went dry. “You do want the sword; you just don’t want to pay for it.”

  Aimi pointed a finger at me, her thumb cocked. She mimed taking a shot, jerking her hand back with pretend recoil. “Biin-go!”

  Since they were talking torture, not recruitment, I decided to show them why I’d be valuable to them. Maybe they’d put me in a cage next to Tukka. On second thought, not a good idea; that might leave me helpless to save him. We pulled up to a red light. I focused my fear. My skull felt like it was smoldering beneath my skin, getting melty. My ears went long and pointy, migrating to the top of my head. A light fluff sprouted from my cheeks, making them itchy. My teeth sharpened and grew as my jaw reshaped itself. I grinned a kitsune smile, letting a way-long tongue dangle past my fangs.

  My audience stared in disbelief, paling in shock. Fascination held them immobile.

  My voice rolled out sultry and gruff, my vocal chords shifting as well. “Too bad I can’t trust you. Guess someone else will get the sword of a god instead of you.”

  Recovering, Aimi whipped her gun out again. Ryuuza produced a butterfly knife from a sleeve, and whirled it open to reveal the blade. Seiza had an automatic pointed at me from over her headrest. So much for letting me go.

  Cold fire leaped from my hands, a thin screen hiding me as I slid into the ghost realm. My body tingled as I fell th
rough the Hummer, landing beneath it. The street turned ember-orange as I rolled out from under the vehicle. I sprang in the lighter gravity, landing on the roof of the Hummer, feeding it energy to keep it under me.

  The traffic light turned green, but the Hummer limo stayed as a junker Civic pulled up behind us.

  The Hummer doors flew open. Everyone piled out, weapons in hand. My face returning to normal, I watched Ryuuza and Seiza look under the vehicle and everywhere else for some sign of me. They said something to Aimi who gripped her automatic with white knuckles. I was surprised it didn’t go off. She nodded. They all climbed back in the vehicle. Lounging on top, I kept hold as we surged away.

  The car behind us sat there, letting us go.

  As we cruised, I enjoyed the downtown Dallas part of the Metroplex. The towers were futuristic, granite and glass giants in the heart of the city, adorned with special lighting to enhance the skyline. What I knew to be green argon outlined Bank of America Plaza One. Another structure had a lit-up, all-glass pyramid on top. I’d seen pictures of the cityscape on the internet, but they didn’t match the reality I was seeing for the first time.

  We eventually shot past the Magnolia Hotel and, just being friendly, I waved at the Flying Horse icon mounted on top.

  We rounded a corner, whizzed through thicker traffic, and finally pulled up at a six story hotel with a fancy three-tier fountain in the center of a circular drive. Under an awning, a doorman guarded the glass and chrome double-doors. An older man, he had steel-wool hair showing at the sides of his head. He wore white gloves, a long coat with bright metal buttons and braid, and a black-brimmed cap.

  Aimi and the girls bailed out, heading his way. I hopped off the Hummer and followed.

  A smile on his weathered face, the doorman tipped his cap and opened one of the doors.

  The girls ignored him, and the finery inside. There was comfortable furniture: wing chairs and plush sofas, even a fake fireplace with a gas flame going. Chandeliers rained splinters of light on us as we moved up to the polished, glossy desk.

  A woman in a pantsuit turned with a smile in place from a computer terminal she’d been viewing. Aimi said something and the desk clerk reached behind her into a compartment, handing over several messages.

  Still in a bad mood, Aimi stomped over to an elevator, smacking the call button with the bottom of her fist. Hammer fist. The doors opened and Aimi entered the empty car, the twins right and left of her. I stepped in and jumped, wedging myself out of the way in an upper corner where I didn’t have to worry about aura-shock from accidentally touching them. On the human side of the veil, I wouldn’t have had the strength to cling this way.

  We rode up a while. The doors opened, and I followed everyone out into a wide hallway lined with rooms. Each door had an electronic card reader attached. Aimi used a key card to open one of the doors. I didn’t bother to hurry, stepping right through the wall beside the door.

  Emerging from the wall, I stood bisected by a glossy black table. It glowed immediately around my hips, a slow drain on my aura. Next to me sat a crystal vase supporting a dozen roses. We were in a suite’s foyer. The floor looked like gray marble dotted with small black diamonds.

  Aimi and the girls passed me, going on into a living room with modern furniture that replicated antiques. The walls had pictures, dark oils in the style of Dutch painters. Writhing like metal octopuses, candelabras with flame-shaped light bulbs hung in chains from the ceiling.

  The girls dropped onto chairs, kicking their feet up onto coffee tables.

  Aimi made a bee-line for a marble bar under an ornately framed mirror.

  No one else seemed to be here. I wondered where the surviving kunoichi from the attack on Shaun had gotten to; maybe the other doors along the hall…

  I strode out of the table, down the foyer, and skirted the room. An open door showed me a bedroom. I went in, moved out of direct sight from anyone in the living room, and crossed over. An electric tingle banished the orange flame wreathing my body. Renewed gravity made me heavier. Color burst from the gray tones around me. Some gray remained in the carpet, a charcoal field covered with dull red wiggles. The wood furniture was a rich walnut. A huge bed had a copper-colored comforter on it. The drapes framing the square-paned windows were copper with antique-gold tracings on them. The wall paper greeted me with light and dark peach stripes.

  After a brief inspection, I turned toward the door and listened to the conversation going on. Thankfully, they were practicing their English so I actually understood what was being said. Aimi’s voice was distinct with that imperial tone of hers, but Ryuuza and Seiza sounded alike. One of the twins said, “So what the hell was that? I mean, the fire was ice cold. We weren’t even burned.”

  Okay, that would be Ryuuza.

  “Don’t look at me,” her twin said. “No clue.”

  “Nothing human,” Aimi said.

  One of the twins said, “Buying the sword would have been easier, than going up against something bullets probably won’t stop.”

  “No,” Aimi said. “She’s vulnerable. She can be injured. She has scars.”

  I drew a deep breath, held a mental picture of Tukka in my mind, and walked into the living room.

  Aimi froze like a mouse in front of a rattler, except I wasn’t rattling. Seiza threw herself out of her chair, gun locking onto me.

  I crossed over, leaped, and landed across the room where Ryuuza shielded me from gunfire. I crossed back, trying once more to talk to these people without getting killed.

  Seiza spotted me, swinging her gun my way, but not risking a shot. Ryuuza turned to see me, her hand teeming with throwing stars ready to launch.

  I held up my hand to head her off. “Whoa, girlfriend, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  Slowly, Ryuuza’s hand dropped from sight. She smiled. “I never regret anything.”

  Aimi thawed out, setting fists on her hips. “How did you get in here?”

  I shrugged. “Just ‘cause you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not around. I’m half shadow after all.”

  “What’s the other half?” Ryuuza asked.

  Aimi stamped a foot. “Ryuuza, kindly move so we may kill her.”

  A tingle went through me as I grabbed the folds of space. I couldn’t help Tukka if I were dead.

  “No.” Ryuuza waved the others down.

  I paused; a heartbeat from fading out.

  “Leave us,” Ryuuza ordered.

  To my surprise, Aimi bowed respectfully and headed for a different bedroom than the one behind me. Seiza lagged behind. “I really think—”

  “Don’t think, just obey,” Ryuuza said.

  “Fine.” Seiza stormed away.

  I walked past Ryuuza, and draped myself over a red velvet loveseat with intricately carved wooden trim. “Who are you, really?”

  The shurikens disappeared into her clothing. “I think you’ve guessed, but if you need me to say it…”

  I nodded.

  “Deception is the best defense—I’m the real Aimi. Now, I understand you have a sword for me.”

  “Yeah, about that; it’s bound to me. We’re a package deal.” I extended a hand above my head. My fingers closed on … a shadow that thickened in the air, becoming the sword I’d used to defeat an Egyptian hell beast, but wreathed with my cold fire. The flaming sword looked really impressive with that little extra added, until I let go and it unraveled into black and red coils of mist and flame that thinned to nothing. “You should also know I don’t come cheap.”

  SEVENTEEN

  ”No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy.”

  —Field Marshall Helmuth Carl

  Bernard von Moltke

  Aimi insisted I still call her Ryuuza though I knew the truth. “Easier that way not to slip up in front of others.” She crossed the living room. “This way, you can share my room.”

  “I don’t want to put you out—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Obviously, it will take a whi
le for you to earn my full trust...”

  “Obviously.”

  “..And I have to keep you close to keep the sword close, since you’re bonded. Later, we’ll have to arrange a demonstration so you can show me what the sword can do.”

  I followed her, rolling my head to loosen my neck. The muscles of my back were stiff too. I paused on the threshold of her bedroom to stretch, and felt vertebrae pop. Tonight’s adventure had emotionally worn me out. But at least I was in, provisionally. Someone was going to let something slip about Tukka, I just knew it. Meanwhile, I had to play things cool.

  I went in and watched “Ryuuza” open a closet door. She had a lot of fancy clothes hanging there; thousand-dollar designer gowns, black denim and leather pants, a raw silk blouse glittering with seed pearls, a little red dress, and a little black dress. She shoved them over like they were cheap rags. Her hand gestured to the space she’d created. “This side’s for you. There are also some empty drawers in the dresser you can use—when you bring your stuff over. Do that tomorrow. Seiza will help you.”

  So, she was keeping a watch on me. “There’s also the little matter of my wages…?”

  “You can trust my generosity. If you need some pocket money though, I have a few thousand on me.”

  I smiled, big. “That would be a nice gesture of faith.”

  “Speaking of which,” she stalked toward me. Between us, a corner of the big bed stopped her. “I want to see the sword again.”

  I turned a hand palm-up and filled it with shadow that should not have existed in the lit room. The ball was weak, translucent as smoky quartz. I concentrated and it became the shadow sword, balanced on my hand.

  Ryuuza reached out, but hesitated touching the blade at the last second. Overcoming caution, her hand dipped. Her fingers softly traced its length and withdrew a few inches. “Cold, like black ice… Give it to me.”