CHAPTER 38

捕獲 Hokaku

Capture

Light streamed from the chandeliers, spilling over the marble floor of the grand entrance hall to the villa. The outside of the mansion was pueblo, but the interior was ornate and European, with black and white marble floors, eighteenth-century Turner and Barbizon landscapes lining the walls, and Greek and Roman statues dotting the high-ceilinged corridors.

Armed guards were everywhere, their voices shouting in confusion. A thin pale man cursed and shouted, his voice louder than the others. Davison Harter.

“You’re useless, completely useless! How many people have made it onto the grounds? I want you to tear this place apart until you find them. Move! Now!”

“Mr. Harter, it’s dangerous for you to be out here. Please go to your room,” a bodyguard said calmly, taking Harter by the elbow and leading him away.

“Where is Takumi? That idiot!” He swung his arms like an angry child, trying to throw the bodyguard off.

“I’m right here,” Takumi said, concealing his rage. How dare Harter call him an idiot!

“Do you know how many security cameras we have here? Fifty! Fifty cameras. They’re not for decoration. And do you know how many guards I pay to protect this property? Twenty. And not one of you has a single brain cell!”

The red blood vessels in Harter’s forehead looked as if they would burst.

Takumi glanced down. He’d known Jet would make it to the villa, but he hadn’t expected her to find it so quickly, or to attack so well. The guards had been totally incompetent, and when the explosion occurred, he’d been taking a wolf-nap in his room, a five-minute refresher that could hold him over for hours. He woke with a start and commanded the guards to go into the forest to the north. But she’d gone against expectation by entering from the south, where she’d been totally exposed. He couldn’t help but admire her daring.

“Yes, sir!” he said, hating the pleading tone in his voice.

Still, he had her now. Even the tedare—highly skilled warriors—could hide themselves in the confusion for no more than ten seconds.

Harter stormed around the control room flanked by wide-shouldered bodyguards.

“Are they in the building already?” he asked.

“No, it’s impossible. Whenever there’s a breach in the security system, all the doors and windows immediately lock, except the main entrance. The intruders would have to enter from there. You know that,” Takumi said, but he didn’t put it past Jet. If she’d timed the blackout just right, the security system would have been rebooting. He felt rattled.

“I want this dealt with immediately,” Harter commanded.

“Yes, Mr. Harter. Please go back to your suite. We’ll take care of it,” Takumi said.

“You’d better!” Harter shouted, walking briskly to the door. The fire at the north fence had been put out, and men whose faces were black with soot were walking toward the main hall, laughing with relief, unaware of Harter’s presence. The smell of fire permeated the air. Their voices were loud and distracting.

The hair on the back of Takumi’s neck stood up. Something was about to happen. Something very bad. Listening to his intuition, he rushed toward Harter, grabbing the back of his jacket and throwing him forward.

“No one move!” Takumi’s voice silenced the room. Guns were readied, aiming in his direction.

“You don’t move!” a woman’s voice rang out in the hall. Takumi froze. Soft light from the chandelier exposed the woman’s almond eyes. She was dressed in black from head to toe and held a gun to a guard’s neck.

Takumi took a deep breath. “You won’t be able to escape,” he said. “And don’t think that killing that guy will mean a thing to me. I don’t care if you do.”

“It’s not him you should be worried about,” she said slowly, her eyes on his face.

He willed himself to be cold. Did she understand what kind of man he really was? He had to stay strong. He was a warrior.

“I meant what I said,” he told her as he neared. “Go ahead and kill him if you want!”

At that she moved the gun from the man’s neck and shot the chandelier’s chain. It fell, its many crystals shattering, their shards scattering across the floor.

In the dark, guards shone their flashlights about, and shadows moved. A few gunshots rang out. Takumi knew exactly where she would be in less than a second, and he propelled his body through the space. He could sense her presence rushing toward Harter. It felt as if catching a gust of wind, but he reached out and grabbed hold of her from behind, spinning her around and putting the blade to her throat.

Flashlights illuminated them. Harter lay on the floor at their feet, looking up, eyes wide with confusion.

“You think it’s that easy,” Takumi whispered in her ear, pulling her head back. “I was closer to him than you were. Don’t assume everyone is weaker than you are.”

He could feel her heart beating wildly, but he kept the knife fixed at her pale throat. She turned her face to his, and seeing her like this, so close, so very close, he had to steady himself. He tried to shake off the lingering warmth of her breath as it landed on his body like gossamer. He tried to shake the way his own fingers longed to stay on her skin just a little bit longer. It was more than attraction. Perhaps even more than love. It was as if destiny itself had taken form before him—her form—and called him out. But his destiny was to live in the shadows, wasn’t it? Isn’t that what ninja did?

An unsettled feeling rose in the pit of his stomach. Takumi drew his breath in and waited for his heart to settle back down to where he’d buried it for as long as he’d remembered.

But the shock, the sense of betrayal flickering in her eyes, made him feel something he’d never known. Regret.

His heart battered against his chest.

He’d have to steel himself against it, or die trying.