Ice Blue - Anne Stuart [19]
The first thing she needed to do was get the hell away from him. But she couldn’t go back to her house, and she couldn’t turn to her beautiful, brainless mother, who’d probably just hand her over to her beloved master. Her stepfather, Ralph, let Lianne do whatever she wanted as long as it didn’t interfere with Summer’s half sister, Jilly. Summer had learned to take care of herself long before Lianne had met her third husband, and Summer’s mother and stepfather were hardly people to depend on. The best place was the house on Bainbridge Island—she could probably hide out there without anyone noticing until the Fellowship either stole the fake urn and disappeared, or gave up. She really didn’t care which, as long as the real ceramic bowl stayed hidden, out of greedy hands.
Summer had no purse, no identification, no money, which made escape a bit problematic. But not impossible. Once she got away from her rescuer there were a number of people she could contact. The head of the Sansone Museum, William Chatsworth, was a shameless glad-hander and publicity hound, but he would jump at the chance to get rid of her, including forking over money with no questions asked. And there was her assistant and best friend, Micah, who was more reliable. Her passport was in the desk drawer in her office, it was all the ID she’d need unless she wanted to rent a car.
If that failed, she could turn to her half sister, but that was a last resort. Sixteen-year-old Jilly Lovitz was a smart, cynical kid who loved her older sister unconditionally and harbored grave doubts about her mother’s good sense, but Summer didn’t want to put her in the middle of things or draw any attention to her. Last night with its danger and its violence didn’t seem quite real, but it was, and dragging her baby sister into this mess was the last thing Summer wanted to do. No, there had to be some other way.
But Micah would help her with no questions asked. And she didn’t need to worry about Jilly. Summer’s stepfather paid little attention to his wife’s enthusiasms, but he wouldn’t let anything happen to his teenage daughter, and Lianne probably knew that. She could offer up Summer without a qualm, but Jilly would be untouchable, thank God. And that was the most important thing in the world because Jilly was all that mattered.
She needed answers. What was so damn important about her porcelain bowl that people were willing to kidnap and kill for it? What exactly was the Hayashi Urn? And what the hell was going on?
But given the choice between getting out of there and getting answers, escape seemed the wiser choice. She really didn’t want to see her so-called rescuer again if she could help it. He stirred irrational things inside her, things she didn’t want to think about. She needed to get lost, fast, because too many people were out to get her.
And she had no guarantees that Mr. Takashi O’Brien, if that was really his name, wasn’t one of them.
5
His holiness tossed down the last of his Fresca, settled his white robes more sedately around his body and walked into the meeting room of the tabernacle on the edge of Little Tokyo, his head lowered in a prayerful attitude. The contact lenses were an annoyance—his eyes were dry and itchy, and all the artificial drops in the world didn’t seem to help. It would have been easier if he had blue eyes—going from dull brown to a colorless pink shade was more stressful on the eyes—but it was a price he paid willingly.
It didn’t matter; he didn’t have to be able to see that well. As long as he was in control he had others to do the seeing for him. His vision was clear where it counted: his divine mission to cleanse the world.
The innermost circle was already in attendance, kneeling around the edges of the room, heads bowed so low they touched the floor as he made his stately entrance, his bare feet light on the straw mat. His