Fire & Ice (6 page)

Takashi O'Brien stood on the narrow porch of the old inn, staring out at the Pacific Ocean. It was off-season on the island of Hokkaido, and most of the places were closed for the winter. No one knew that he and Su-chan were hidden up here in a place that had once belonged to his grandfather. They'd arrived at the small inlet by boat, with enough food to keep them going until they heard it was safe to come back. But Taka was getting edgy.

“Is something wrong?” He heard his wife's sleepy voice behind him. He turned to look at her—she was wrapped in a duvet, her long hair in her eyes, her mouth as delicious as always.

He went to her, pulling her into his arms, keeping the duvet wrapped tight around her naked body so the cold winter wind wouldn't bite into her. “I should have heard something by now.”

“But we don't get cell-phone service out here. At least, my phone didn't work.”

“Cell phones don't work. My PDA works on a different frequency. Peter won't use it until he knows it's safe, and there's no word.”

She leaned back against him, and he could feel her warmth sink into his bones. It was easy enough to stop thinking and lose himself in her, but he'd let things go on for long enough. “You think they haven't been able to stop the Russians?” she asked.

“It should have been an easy job. My great-uncle's organization is very efficient—there was no need for anyone else to be involved. But it should have been dealt with days ago. Something's wrong. They shouldn't keep on coming.”

“Are we going back, then?”

“I'm going back. You're staying here where it's safe. There's more than enough firewood, and the food will last long enough if you ration your Diet Coke habit.” He could feel her stiffen in his arms, and he kissed the top of her head. “Trust me.”

“Like hell,” she said sweetly, pulling away from him. “You know you can't make me stay here.”

“You know I can.”

She just looked at him. He'd seen that look before, and it always meant trouble. It was a good thing he was going to be out of reach for the next few days. She'd build up a good head of steam, probably come at him with a knife, and then there'd be mind-fucking sex.

“Let's get our things,” he said in his most resigned voice.

“I'm glad you're learning,” she shot back, turning and heading into the empty inn. Dropping the duvet on the floor as she headed to the bedroom.

He picked it up, following her, wondering if there was enough time for sex to lull her into a false state of security. Probably not. Once on alert, he didn't dare waste time.

She went into the bedroom, he tossed the duvet after her, then slammed and locked the door. If he moved fast, she wouldn't realize there was a way out the back of the room, smashing through the paper screens.

He could still hear her yelling as he ran out of the building, down onto the beach and the boat they'd hidden. He was well out into the water when she finally appeared on the beach, stark naked, screaming at him. For a moment he was afraid she'd try to swim after him, but even in her fury she had enough sense not to jump into a winter ocean.

“I'll be back as soon as it's safe,” he shouted to her, but she was too busy screaming curses at him to hear. It didn't matter. All that mattered was making sure no one could get to her. He'd been counting on his great-uncle to take care of things. Clearly he was going to have to do it himself.

And then he was going to have to spend a lot of time making it up to Summer.

“You sadistic son-of-a-bitch asshole!” she shrieked. “Get your scrawny butt back here!”

But he simply gunned the motor, loud enough to drown her out, looked forward and sped away, as her cries of anger disappeared into the foggy morning.

Reno drove fast
, as he always did. If the police stopped him, it might be the best thing—they'd take both of them into custody and no stray mercenary would be able to get within a hundred feet of them. Of course, that would mean his grandfather would have to pull a few strings to get them out, but that would be child's play to a man like his grandfather.

Unless, of course, he delegated the job to whoever had ratted them out.

No, maybe the police weren't the answer. He hated to admit weakness, but he was tired and hungry, and more than anything, he needed a few hours of sleep before he could figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

Heading back toward Tokyo was a no-brainer—whether or not he was going to stop or keep on straight to Osaka remained to be seen. He'd need to ditch the delivery truck and find something with a little more power. He could buy something, but that would leave a paper trail, and right now he and Jilly needed to disappear. Ojiisan was going to have to make a lot of amends by the time Reno was ready to head back to England.

If he was going back. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that if he'd stayed in Japan his grandfather wouldn't be nurturing a traitor in his midst. Not that the old man had gotten weak. He'd be a powerhouse until he died, but lately he'd been passing on a lot of his power to his subordinates. The business had changed, he'd told Reno. Where there'd once been a code of honor, now there were just hoodlums and drug dealers. Ojiisan had always steered clear of the drug trade. He'd made a good enough living from the more respectable business of gambling and protection. He dabbled in counterfeit designer goods, as well, but never enough to disturb the police, who turned a politely blind eye to him and his business.

But the heads of Yakuza families didn't retire. The oyabun retained their power until they died, and were mourned by their kobun, their loyal soldiers. But one of his grandfather's soldiers wasn't so loyal, and that could spread among the younger men who wanted the kind of money drugs and weapons could bring in. Grandfather was right—there was no honor left.

He glanced over at her. She was staring out into the darkness, and in the darkness he couldn't see her clearly. It didn't matter—what she was thinking made no difference to him. His way was clear. In the meantime he was going to have to resort to drastic measures. And he didn't think his unwilling hostage was going to like it one tiny bit.

She was doing her best
to ignore him as he sped through the night, but when he pulled out his cell phone and started pushing buttons, she almost shrieked.

“Is that legal? To talk on the phone while you drive?” she demanded, clutching the seat.

He glanced over at her. “I'm driving a stolen car, Ji-chan. I think the cell phone is the least of my worries.” And he began speaking into the phone in rapid Japanese.

Jilly wasn't sure what was more horrifying, the way he was driving, or what he was saying. The driving would kill her more quickly, probably in the next couple of minutes, so she decided not to argue with him while he was still on the phone. She waited until he'd snapped it closed and shoved it back into his pocket before speaking.

“I 'm dead?”

He jerked, startled, and stared at her. “You speak Japanese?” He made it sound as if she were a child molester.

“A little. You told whoever you were talking to that I was dead. That I'd died when my car went over the side of the mountain.”

“Shit,” he said, clearly annoyed. “And that was my grandfather. He's not happy that I failed to protect a member of the family. Which you are, by default, whether I like it or not. And you don't want to mess with my grandfather when he's not happy.”

“You don't trust your grandfather with the truth? Unless, of course, that was the truth, just a bit premature, and you're planning to kill me.”

“I'm tempted, just to shut you up, but Taka wouldn't like it, and disposing of your body would be a pain,” he said.

Are you sure? I thought you said your grandfather's men would wipe out all trace of your earlier bloodbath in Taka and Summer's house. Disposing of one small American shouldn't be that much of a challenge.”

“Small?” he echoed derisively. “You're as tall as I am. And yes, they could dump you. But I have absolutely no interest in killing you. That's more Taka's style. I just want to get rid of you. Unless of course, you'd rather I strangle you. You could probably talk me into it.”

“You can strangle me if you want, as long as you feed me first. At this point food is more important than a long life.”

“Hold on.” Those weren't words to inspire her with confidence, and his previously dangerous speed suddenly became suicidal as he bobbed and darted between the heavy traffic, narrowly missing pedestrians and cyclists as he clipped a curb and ran right over another.

“Where are we?” Jilly lifted her head to peer out into the neon-bright night.

Reno didn't answer, of course. Why should she have expected him to? She'd spent the past two days asking him questions that he'd ignored. Why should it be any different? “If you don't answer me, I'll stab you with a chopstick again,” she warned him.

He glanced at her. “You don't have any.”

“Point taken. I'm starving. Find me chopsticks and food to go with them and tell me what the plan is.”

“We're going to a love hotel.”

“Right,” she drawled. “Right after hell freezes over.”

“Don't jump to any conclusions. They're anonymous—they have them all over Tokyo. You check in by machine—no witnesses. You'll like it—there are theme rooms. Pirates and samurai and slave girls. Just the kind of fantasy young women like.”

“I have no deep-seated fantasy to be a slave girl,” she snapped. “And I hate to tell you, but you're no Johnny Depp.”

“That leaves samurai,” he said. “You don't get a choice.”

“Do they have two beds?”

“In a love hotel? Not likely. Don't worry—they're like a family theme park of sex. Everything clean and pretend.”

“I'm not having sex with you, even pretend sex.”

“I don't remember that I asked you for sex. If I'd wanted it, we would have already done it.”

At some point she really was going to hit him. She already knew perfectly well that he didn't find her to be anything more than a pain in the butt. He didn't need to embarrass her, as well.

“No love hotel,” she said flatly, staying on point. “You'll have to knock me out and...” She let the words trail off as she remembered he'd already done just that. “No love hotel,” she said.

“It's that or a capsule hotel.”

She brightened. “Oh, cool! I've seen those on TV.”

“You won't like that much better.”

“A capsule hotel sounds perfect.”

And you think I'm going to do what you want?”

“I'm a lot less trouble if you do.”

He smiled. Just when she was thinking he never smiled, he did, and she almost wished he hadn't. It was a smirk, as if he'd gotten exactly what he'd wanted and knew she wasn't about to back down.

And she wasn't. She might have to spend the night with him, as she'd had to spend every minute since he first walked into the back bedroom at Summer's house, but she didn't have to spend it in a place designed for illicit sex. She'd seen capsule hotels on TV—they were strictly utilitarian, for people who needed to sleep and nothing else before they went back to work the next day.

“No more arguments?” Reno said, his voice silky.

Why did she feel she'd walked into a trap? “No more arguments. As long as it's not a love hotel I won't put up a fuss.”

“You Americans are so puritanical,” he said. “It's much better to be practical about these things. Sex is recreational, marriage is a business matter.”

“And what is love?”

“Doesn’t exist.”

She just looked at him. “What about Taka and Summer? Don't you think they're in love?”

“Su-chan is American, Taka is half.”

“Meaning only gaijin fall in love?”

“Meaning only gaijin are fool enough to pay any attention. The best thing to do if you start thinking such things is to lie down and wait for it to pass. It always does.”

She stared at him. “You speak from your great experience at falling in love?”

“I've avoided it. It's a weakness and a waste of time, if it even exists. I'm better off without it.” He pulled the car to a stop. The street was darker than most of Tokyo's neon-lit brilliance, and he cut the engine, turning to look at her. “So you can stop looking at me like that when you think I don't know. I'll go to bed with you if that's what you want, but that's all you're getting.”

She'd never hit another human being in her entire life. She punched him, hard, so fast and instinctive that he didn't have time to stop her, so fast that she didn't realize what she'd done until it was too late. She'd hit him hard—her knuckles had slammed against bone and flesh and it hurt.

He didn't move. “I guess that's a no,” he said.

She'd been about to apologize, but the words died in her mouth. “Are you trying to make me hate you?” she said instead.

She should apologize; she didn't believe in hitting people. But he'd needed a whack upside his head, big-time.

His answer surprised her. “Maybe.” He opened the car door. “Stay put. I'm going to find us a place to stay. Just lock the doors and keep down.”

He closed the door quietly and started down the empty street, a lone, wiry figure in the deserted night. She opened her door, suddenly nervous. “Are you coming back for me?” she called out.