Owl and the Japanese Circus

by Kristi Charish

  “Lady Siyu can bill me,” I said, and hit the Up switch. The bench jolted up faster than I’d anticipated. I involuntarily sat down as it skyrocketed up the side of the building. I grabbed the switch hanging above me. Yellow meant slow down, right? I pressed the yellow button. To my relief, it slowed to a pace where I could stand up—and look down at the pavement and people so very far below me . . . I forced my eyes back on the building. Probably a good thing my fear of heights doesn’t kick in until I look down . . .

  Finding the twenty-third floor was easy; the building only had twenty-six, and I knew firsthand that Mr. Kurosawa’s private ghost casino took up three floors. I stopped the bench when it reached the penthouse floor. There were only four suites, so, lucky me, I ended up outside mine.

  I tapped on the window twice. Captain bolted from the other room and jumped up onto the glass. I pointed at the window lever. Captain swished his tail, grabbed the lever with his teeth, and pulled. Yes, we’ve done this before—Oh hell, I don’t need to explain why I’ve trained my cat to let me into locked windows.

  As soon as I was in, I dropped my laptop bag, grabbed the bleach gun, and ran for the door.

  Barred shut.

  I tried my shoulder against it. Nothing.

  I looked around the room for something to break it down with.

  I grabbed one of the ornate Louis XIII chairs and hefted it over my head. I was going to get a hell of a lot of pleasure out of breaking one of Lady Siyu’s precious antiques. I slammed it into the door as hard as I could. It shattered into four pieces, the paint on the door barely scratched. Lousy wooden antiques. Why couldn’t she have furnished the hotel with some nice, metal industrial furniture?

  I hoped Rynn was having better luck than I was. I called Oricho.

  He answered on the second ring. “You have the translation?”

  “No, Nadya is being attacked and my door is barricaded. Get up here to help her and get me out,” I yelled. I couldn’t talk fast enough.

  Oricho didn’t reply immediately, but I could hear him typing. “The rooms are on an automatic lockdown. Someone has accessed the hotel’s security system and shut all the doors on your floor. I regret that I cannot open it from here.”

  “Shit. Just find some way to help her,” I said and hung up. Could things possibly get any worse?

  As if the universe was listening in on my thoughts, just so it could screw me over, a text from Rynn came in:

  Power to the elevator was cut as well—STAY—

  Whoever orchestrated this had thought of that, too.

  I grabbed another antique chair. Like the first, it shattered without making a dent. I glanced around the room for another piece to ram the door with. Something in here had to be able to break it . . .

  My laptop.

  I pulled my laptop out, raised a chat screen with Carpe, and put my headset on. “Think fast, can you hack into the hotel security system?”

  “What? Why?” he said, sounding as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

  “It’s an emergency.”

  “Yeah, sure—” he said, his fingers rapidly clicking against his keyboard. “Whoa—whoever hacked this knew what they were doing. They put a firewall in, a decent one—”

  I heard a scream. Nadya. “Carpe, get my door open!”

  “It’ll take me a minute,” he said.

  “I don’t have a minute—”

  The door’s lock clicked open.

  “Thanks, I owe you one,” I said.

  “That wasn’t me—” Carpe started.

  But I had my headset halfway off before he could finish. I grabbed the bleach-filled water gun and made a dash straight for Nadya’s room.

  My stomach sank as I turned the corner. The door hadn’t been kicked down so much as split in two warped halves.

  I didn’t think. I just ran into the room. It was empty. Whoever had been here was gone . . .

  And left Nadya lying on the floor, halfway out of the bathroom.

  “Nadya?” I yelled. She didn’t move; she was out cold. I stopped panicking when she breathed, until I noticed the two bloodstains on her white shirt over her left shoulder. I pulled the collar down to reveal two large puncture wounds, larger than a vampire bite. The skin around them had turned dark purple, and it was spreading.

  Venom.

  I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. “Alix?” Rynn yelled.

  “In here,” I said.

  Like the professional he was, Rynn assessed the situation at the door before coming in. To his credit he didn’t say a goddamn thing this time about me ignoring his “Stay.”

  He crouched down and pressed gently against Nadya’s wound. Yellow liquid came out, which he then raised to smell. After a moment he looked up at me. “Naga,” he said.

  More footsteps fell on the carpet and Oricho stepped through the door. He almost looked like he’d broken a sweat, and I wondered if he’d run up the twenty-three flights of stairs. He glanced down at Nadya, a shadow crossing his face. “I regret to inform you that Lady Siyu is no longer in her chambers. I can no longer account for her whereabouts,” he said, and dropped his chin in apology, something I’d never seen him do before.

  I shook my head. “I was too late—and she knew what we’d do, she even trapped Rynn in the elevator,” I said. “Can’t you help her?” I asked Rynn. “You know, like the skin walker?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, injuries I can work with. Not poison.”

  “Two supernaturals in the goddamn room and sorry, thanks for playing, game over?”

  Rynn lifted the hotel phone from the desk. “I’ll get Dylan to come up. He’s a nymph at the pool downstairs. One of his relatives owes me a favor.”

  “Nymphs heal people too?”

  Rynn considered that. “No and yes. Nymphs feed on decaying flesh. Evolutionary offshoot of the ghoul family.”

  “I’m sorry, did you just say nymphs eat rotting flesh?”

  He shrugged. “Or the chemicals coming off it. This kind of snake venom rots the flesh. It’s why the skin around it is turning black. It’s similar enough he should be able to pull it out of her system and get a meal in the bargain.”

  Eww, gruesome. And they were all so damn pretty; talk about evolving under the radar. Well, it explained why they always seemed to show up when there was a corpse to be taken care of . . .

  After calling Dylan, Rynn surveyed the room again. “Oricho, something isn’t right.”

  Oricho nodded. “This was not the attacker’s intended target. This is a distraction.”

  “That was my thought,” Rynn said.

  My stomach churned. “The scroll. Lady Siyu needed a distraction so she could steal the scroll.” I’d been right all along; in spite of Mr. Kurosawa’s and Oricho’s insistence she was loyal, she’d been working with Marie. At times like this, I hate being right. “Oricho, does she know where Mr. Kurosawa keeps it?”

  He nodded. “Who would know more about a red dragon’s treasure than his trusted naga?” He pulled out his phone and issued commands to his men. “Lady Siyu will try to reach the vault in Mr. Kurosawa’s private casino,” Oricho said to us.

  “If we’re quick, we can block the exits before she can escape,” Rynn added. “But what if she plans on using the scroll?”

  “I fear she intends to use it as soon as she has it, and with the number of people in the city . . .”

  I couldn’t believe it—this was the first goddamn break we’d had. “She can’t read it,” I said. Both Rynn and Oricho looked at me. “She needs a human to read it. Nadya and I figured that out last night—and they’d have to be able to figure out the pronunciation, properly, not some hashed-up version like modern Egyptian or Latin.”

  Oricho wasn’t convinced. “But if she reaches you, Owl, surely—”

  I shook my head. This was too good to be true. There was no way Lady Siyu knew she couldn’t read the scroll. She’d probably grabbed Nadya’s translation off her computer and figured that was all she needed. “
Are you kidding? I can read it, sure, but I suck at speaking modern languages, let alone ancient ones. Nadya’s the one with the knack for figuring out pronunciation, and Lady Siyu just poisoned her. Unless she has some human stowed away somewhere who’s an expert on ancient dialects—” I shrugged. “Considering her disdain for humans and Sabine’s general level of psychosis, I highly doubt that.”

  “I still do not wish her to obtain the scroll—or you, which she may still attempt. It is not safe for you—”

  “Owl can come with me to block the main elevator exit to the lair,” Rynn said.

  Oricho frowned. “Is that wise? What if Lady Siyu wishes to take vengeance on her next, or believes she can translate the scroll?”

  Rynn shrugged. “Better that she should be with me.” Oricho was less than thrilled, but he conceded with a curt nod.

  We ran right smack into Dylan exiting the elevator. I stared up into his perfect white teeth, chiseled jawline, and bare bronze chest . . . It was the same nymph who’d picked up the skin walker from my room. I took a step back, two steps back in fact. I could see the ghoul family similarities now: waxy skin, glassy eyes, lack of facial expression due to rudimentary nerve development . . .

  Rynn took hold of my arm and steered me into my room. “I need to get my things. Bring your vampire kit as well.”

  “I’ve got an extra UV flashlight, chloroform, plus my gas mask and the bleach gun,” I said.

  He nodded. “Get those as well.”

  I ran into my bedroom and started assembling my bag. I tossed on my cargo jacket for good measure. Not armor, but better than my T-shirt if a vampire or Lady Siyu tried to bite me. Ready, I grabbed my loaded backpack. Rynn was standing by my door, arms crossed.

  I dropped my bag as it dawned on me what was really going on. “Rynn?” The warning was implied.

  “What?” he said, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t move away from my bedroom door.

  “Not fair, you manipulated me.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Manipulation one, human reckless abandon zero,” he said.

  “Oh come on. So help me—”

  The trace of a smile vanished. “I’m serious, something isn’t right.”

  “Yeah. A rabid naga just attacked my best friend.”

  “That’s what worries me. There is no way a naga or a vampire got up to this floor without Oricho or myself knowing. It’s not possible.”

  “Well, we know it wasn’t you. What about Oricho? I mean, his warriors are trapped in slot machines—”

  Rynn shook his head. “It can’t be Oricho. Believe me, there’s no love lost between him and Mr. Kurosawa, but once a kami swears loyalty—” He shrugged. “It is not physically possible for Oricho to disobey or betray Mr. Kurosawa. That’s why Mr. Kurosawa wanted him.”

  “But—”

  “He’s kami and sworn to serve as a servant. That’s just the way it is. There is nothing Oricho can do. Believe me, we’ve tried.”

  I sighed. I did not want to be locked in my room, leaving my life in the hands of supernaturals. No matter how much I trusted Rynn, I wasn’t OK with it. “What about a human thrall?” I tried.

  Rynn placed both hands on my shoulders. “Give me an hour.”

  “How do you know they can’t get in here too?”

  “Easy. I’m booby-trapping the door.”

  “Then I can’t get out.”

  “That was the idea.” Rynn unceremoniously picked up a sleeping Captain off the floor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that cat look more shocked in my life.

  “What the hell are you doing with my cat?”

  “I trust him about as much as I trust you right now. Less so, because he might figure a way out.”

  “This isn’t OK. You can’t keep doing this to me—”

  He turned on me, his eyes verging on blue. They shifted back to gray before I had to say anything. Reflex, I was betting. “Do what? Every other instance so far I’ve let you make your own choice, even when I knew you were in over your head. I can’t let you stumble through and learn for yourself this time. It’s too dangerous, and chances are you’ll succeed in getting yourself killed.”

  “Why? Because I’m a lousy human?”

  “No, because whoever got to Nadya fooled me, and I’ve had a hell of a lot more practice than you.” His eyes stayed gray. At least he was keeping his word and not using the incubus eye thing—that counted for a lot. “I’m sorry, but even I’m not sure what the hell is going on, and I don’t want you caught in the middle of a supernatural bloodbath.”

  I stepped back. This was bodyguard/mercenary Rynn talking. I was pissed, but he was doing his job.

  As much as it pained me, I sat down in the chair. “Go,” I said.

  His face softened. “One hour, I promise. And keep your cell on you.”

  “I thought no one could get in?”

  “I thought that about Nadya too.”

  Rynn closed the door behind him. I heard Captain howl as he was deposited in the bathroom.

  I sat on the bed. It dawned on me that for once Rynn hadn’t called me a train wreck and I hadn’t called him a whore . . . somehow I didn’t think that boded well.

  I lay there for a few more minutes. I hated the idea that things might be decided while I was locked in this damn room, just like when I’d been a grad student . . .

  I remembered Nadya had told me to check my pocket before I’d run full tilt out of the bar. Inside was a slip of napkin, and on it was the same skull symbol from the scroll. Which I now knew was a precursor to Cyrillic, and could be read.

  Under the skull she’d written in her impeccable penmanship, “Not what it seems.”

  Not what it seems? I still had no idea what the skull meant in the first place, though my first guess was still something to do with death. Damn it, leave it to Nadya to leave me a cryptic message and expect me to figure it out. The last thing Nadya had said to me was to make sure I got the scroll back . . .

  Something scuffed against metal above me. Adrenaline up, I jumped off the bed and scanned the ceiling. The air vent—something was coming through the air vent. I grabbed the bleach water gun and UV flashlight and ducked behind the antique sofa chair. I had a flash of anger at Rynn for leaving me here. It was small consolation that he’d been wrong about things getting in—especially since chances were real good I wouldn’t be able to tell him, I told you so. Well, I’d be damned if I wouldn’t put up a fight.

  Something was kicking the grate loose. I readied the water gun and turned the flashlight on. I heard the meow before the grate fell and Captain stuck his head through. He gauged the distance to the bed before launching onto it. He had my black makeup brush roll I’d left in the bathroom in his mouth. My lock-pick kit. Anyone who says cats aren’t trainable . . .

  Captain close on my heels, I let myself out of the bedroom and headed for the main window, where I’d left the window washer bench. I wasn’t planning on taking it all the way up to the roof; too good a chance someone would see me. But I bet the adjacent room wasn’t locked.

  I stepped through the window and closed the glass behind me. Captain howled and began scratching the glass. “Dude, no way. There’ll be vampires,” I said.

  He meowed balefully through the window.

  I went to the far edge of the bench and stepped over onto the wide ledge that ran along the wall. I found finger holes and started to inch my way across. I could still hear Captain howling.

  When I reached the adjacent room’s window, I made my first mistake: I looked down.

  Shaking, I pried the window open with one of my blunter tools and slid through. As suspected, the door was unlocked. I checked the hallway before heading to the service elevators.

  I was back in the game.

  It dawned on me as the gold elevator doors slid shut that I was about to do what I’d sworn I wouldn’t. Break into a red dragon’s treasure room.

  22

  WE ALL HAVE OUR GHOSTS

  6:00 p.m., happy hour
at the Japanese Circus

  The service elevator took its sweet time going up, chiming like the bells on Mr. Kurosawa’s slot machines. I was glad I had the water gun under my jacket. I removed it and aimed it at the unopened doors, just in case, hoping that snakes liked bleach about as much as skin walkers did.

  Something nagged me as I waited for the doors to open. Marie was this stupid, sure, but Lady Siyu? She was egotistical, aloof, bigoted against humans, and elitist, but not stupid. She had access to Mr. Kurosawa’s treasure room; why hadn’t she just grabbed the scroll and then killed me and Nadya? She could have been on the private jet by now, scroll in hand. Or maybe the lack of plan was her plan? Come on, Owl, think. That’s what you’re supposed to be good at.

  The elevator doors slid open to a mirrored hall covered in the black lotus design. “You!”

  I raised my hands. Slowly.

  A very transformed and very angry Lady Siyu stood at the end of the hall. Unlike the naga I’d met in Bali, Lady Siyu’s skin and tail were mottled green and gold, instead of white, and she was half the size. Her black hair framed her face in a plaited crown that reminded me of a pharaoh’s headdress. Confirming my suspicion, Lady Siyu raised her tail. The bone rattle echoed off the mirrors.

  A chill ran down my spine. Only one type of Naga had a rattle. Viper Queens. Worse temperament, more venom.

  And in her hand was the scroll.

  “You?” Lady Siyu snarled again, as if I were the devil itself. Then she lunged at me with a lightning-quick strike.

  I dove back inside the elevator and slammed the Close Door button, then pressed the emergency button for good measure. Where the hell were Oricho and his kami? My stomach sank; if Lady Siyu had had no problem taking out two of Oricho’s kami, she must have reached him first.

  I called Rynn. It went straight to voice mail. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me—” I swore and waited for the message chime. “Rynn?” I said, and covered the receiver as the elevator doors rattled.

  I pressed the mezzanine button repeatedly. Nothing happened. Lady Siyu must have damaged the elevator when she’d hit it with her tail.