Ice Blue - Anne Stuart [102]
“We?”
“Don’t you remember American television? The line is ‘What’s this we, white man?’ I’m going with you. Where do we stash the girl?”
“You’re not coming with me,” Taka said flatly. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave her with you. You must know someone who can babysit her. Someone who doesn’t understand English, so she won’t drive him crazy. Someone who won’t get distracted and let her out of his sight.”
“Crazy Jumbo might do it. Former sumo wrestler, not too bright. He’d just sit on her if she got too yappy.”
“I don’t—”
A loud screeching of guitars interrupted him, and Reno dived into his leather jacket for his cell phone. “What?” he snarled. His expression changed, his voice lowered, and he moved off to a less crowded piece of the sidewalk. By the time Taka caught up with him Reno had already finished the conversation and was looking rattled. It took a lot to get Reno rattled.
“That was Grandfather. They’ve got Su-chan.”
Taka didn’t even notice Reno’s use of the affectionate term. “Who does?” His voice was deadly.
“Who do you think?” Reno said. “They want the urn, or they’re going to liberate her to her next karmic level, according to the note Grandfather got. You’re supposed to bring them the urn.”
Taka’s blood had frozen in his veins, like the cold winter wind swirling through the crowded city. “Where?”
“You’re kidding, right? You can’t give it to them. They’ll kill her anyway, and if you give them the relic they’ll be able to start their holy war. You can’t do it.”
Taka dropped his package of clothes, caught Reno’s leather jacket in one hand and slammed him against the wall. “Where?”
“Tonight, at the ruins of the temple. Either your girlfriend told them, or they’ve bugged my apartment. It doesn’t matter which—they know where the ancient site is, and they want you there. You’re just playing into their hands, Taka-san. They’ll kill her and they’ll kill you. I don’t care how skilled you are, one man against so many is doomed.”
“Two men, Reno. You’re coming with me.”
Reno detached Taka’s hand from his jacket, brushing it lazily. “I thought you’d see it my way sooner or later. Let’s go.”
She felt sick. At least this time she was in the back seat of a car and not in the trunk, for all the good it did her. She still had a bag over her head, but at some point they’d changed her clothes, and she was wearing something loose and light. And cold. Her hands were tied behind her back and something was across her mouth so she couldn’t scream. She was curled up in a corner of some kind of vehicle, and the ride was very bumpy, as if they were going over a road of logs and tree stumps. There was a familiar, unpleasant smell in the car, and it took her only a moment to recognize it. The True Realization Fellowship favored a particularly sickly sweet incense, and the scent clung to the followers’ clothing. She moved her head down to her shoulder and sniffed the fabric of whatever they’d put her in. The same nasty stuff.
Who else would have gone to all the trouble to grab her? She couldn’t figure out why—supposedly the only reason they’d kept her alive was because she could lead them to the ancient shrine. Yet they already seemed to know where it was—she only hoped she hadn’t babbled something during some forgotten, drug-induced questioning. They had nothing to gain by kidnapping her, unless they thought she still had the urn.
But if they’d managed to track her down to Reno’s apartment, then their information was up-to-the-minute, and they’d know she didn’t have the urn; Taka did.
“I believe she’s awake, your holiness.”
Shit. She shouldn’t have moved. She was much better off huddled in the corner being ignored. The bag was pulled from her head, and she blinked at the unexpected brightness of the day. And then focused on her nemesis, sitting in meditative stillness on the seat opposite her, his white hair flowing, his bleached white skin the color of death, his eyes milky.