Ice Blue - Anne Stuart [109]
“You see?” the Shirosama murmured. “I told her you were the one who held her under the water, that you were planning to kill her. Even now, you probably believe your best course is to silence her. It doesn’t matter. Before long you will both be silenced, and perhaps you’ll both do better in the next life.”
Taka said nothing, pulling himself into a sitting position. “You brainwashed her so quickly? I would have thought she’d give you more trouble than that.”
“I told her the truth, and she saw it for what it was,” he replied. “Brother Heinrich, go to the plane and make certain it’s loaded and the disciples are on board. Then return to me with the final packet of medicine. I need to be certain everything is going according to plan before we take the final steps.”
Brother Heinrich disappeared into the darkness, but not before glaring at Taka. The Shirosama seemed to have forgotten about both prisoners. He’d begun chanting, some strange mixture of languages that held few words Summer had ever heard, as he sprinkled gray dust on the fire in front of him, followed by the same cloying incense. White-robed brothers began to emerge from the surrounding forest, some carrying weapons, some unarmed. They lay their guns in a pile and moved to form a circle around the Shirosama, taking up the same nonsensical chant.
When Taka had been thrown against Summer the knife had been knocked loose from her bra, and was now beneath her loose shirt. With her hands bound behind her there was no way she could reach it. She would have to count on her would-be murderer.
“Your holiness!” She raised her voice, forcing herself to sound tearful and supplicatory. “If we are to die, would you let me kiss him one last time?”
She half expected Taka to react to her uncharacteristic behavior, but he didn’t move, didn’t look at her. He was kneeling in the frozen dirt beside her, every inch of him alert, and she was probably the least of his concerns.
“You want to kiss the man who tried to kill you? You are a very foolish young woman,” the Shirosama said. “Go ahead.”
Taka turned to her, his eyes dark and unreadable, waiting. She reached up, put her mouth against his and whispered, “I have a knife that’s fallen down the front of my shirt, you son of a bitch. See if you can get it.” The feel of his lips against hers was agony. The sickness deep inside her was that she wanted to kiss him anyway, no matter what he’d done.
A moment later he’d flung himself at her knees, babbling a mixture of contrition and love. Somehow, in the darkness, and even with his hands tied, he managed to reach up under her flowing shirt and grab the knife.
The Shirosama’s half-blind eyes were turned in their direction, an expression of distaste on his face. “I misjudged both of you,” he said. “You are unworthy of the great honor I chose to give you.”
“What great honor?” Summer asked. Taka was still doing a creditable job of being collapsed in grief and hopeless love, and she needed to hold the Shirosama’s attention while Taka worked on their bonds.
“The great honor of dying with me, Miss Hawthorne. Your mother would appreciate it and as one of my most generous supporters, she would have had that honor. But someone took her away and I’ve had more important things to do than try to find her.”
“Like kidnap my sister?” Summer shot back. Taka was still now, and she kept waiting for him to lean toward her, to do something about the bonds that were slowly cutting off the circulation in her arms.
But the Shirosama was no longer interested in arguing with her, or anyone. “Drag them out of the circle, Brother Shinya. They can watch from a distance.”
Shit, Summer thought, as one of the brethren advanced toward them. He would see that Taka had gotten his hands on a knife, and their last hope of escape would be gone.
But she underestimated the brother’s dislike of the unclean, particularly women. He came to stand over them, an expression of disgust on his pale face as if he