Ice Blue - Anne Stuart [29]
There was absolutely no change in his expression. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? It’s mine—my old nanny left it to me…”
“I believe Hana Hayashi left it in your care, not as a gift. It belongs to Japan, not some California gaijin who doesn’t realize its value.”
“You’re obviously half-gaijin yourself, so there’s no need to be snotty,” she said. “And the urn is seventeenth century Edo period, probably made between 1620 and 1660. It should be worth anywhere between one hundred and fifty thousand to three hundred thousand on the open market—probably closer to three hundred thousand dollars because of the distinctive ice blue glaze. People don’t murder for less than half a million dollars.”
“How naive are you? In some parts of the world people will commit murder for a handful of coins. Just because you’ve lived a safe, insular life doesn’t mean the rest of the world is so well protected.” There was no emotion, not even condemnation in his cool, deep voice. Just a statement of fact.
Summer shivered. She couldn’t help it—she’d done everything she could to put her life before Hana out of her mind, but every now and then it resurfaced, as it did now, in the words of an arrogant, disturbingly beautiful man.
“Not as safe and well protected as you might think,” she said finally, staring out at the rain as it ran down the smoked windows of the car. They were still heading toward her mother’s house, and she didn’t know how to stop him. Only that she had to.
“Apparently not,” he said after a moment. The man was too damn observant. “Otherwise you’d be a basket case. I haven’t see you cry—not over your friend, not out of fear. Very impressive.”
His words were like a punch to the stomach. “I don’t cry. No matter how bad things are, I never cry. It’s a waste of time. Crying won’t bring Micah back, crying won’t change anything. Would you prefer I was sitting here blubbering?”
“Yes.”
She stared at his elegant profile in the darkened interior of the car. “Why?”
“Because it’s an anomaly, and I don’t like anomalies.”
“Tough shit.”
She had to imagine the faint movement of his mouth, what in another man might have almost been the beginnings of a smile. And then the thought vanished as he turned down the broad street that led to her stepfather’s gated mansion.
“No!” she said, her voice rising in panic. “It’s not here.”
“Then where is it?”
He pulled up to the security gate and put the car in Park, punching in a security code that he shouldn’t have had before turning to look at her.
The gate began to slide open, and Summer’s panic began to spike. “Listen, I told you, it’s not here,” she said for the thousandth time. “There’s no reason for us to go up there. We don’t need to involve my family in this mess—put them in danger.”
“It was your mother who put you in danger in the first place, and they’re already involved. Your idiot mother is one of the Shirosama’s most devoted followers. If the Shirosama’s men haven’t already been here then they’ll come soon.”
“No!” Summer said in horror. “We can’t…I’ll give them the bowl…”
“What are you so afraid of? Don’t tell me you’re trying to protect your mother. She already fed you to the wolves, and I imagine she’d do so again.”
Summer didn’t bother denying it. “Then why give her the chance? Let’s just get out of here.”
“She’s not here.”
“She isn’t?” Summer said warily.
“Your stepfather took her to Hawaii this morning to try to get her away from the Shirosama. Apparently he balked at spending fifty thousand dollars for her guru’s bathwater.”
“What?” Summer cried, horrified. “Why would she want his bathwater?”
“To drink it. It’s part of the True Realization Fellowship’s initiation. You drink the Shirosama’s bathwater to absorb his consciousness. They sell his blood as well, but that’s a bit pricier.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said flatly, horrified.
“Don’t you?” Taka leaned back, his hands loose on the steering wheel, and in the dim light he looked elegant and deadly. “The True Realization Fellowship has over a billion dollars in assets, and that amount is