by Sarah Fine
“No. Inside.”
“How can you tell the difference between it and an actual Strikon?”
He stared at the high-rise. “Relics are smaller. More concentrated. And this one . . .”
He shook his head, then stepped away from the line for the door, pulling out his phone. He punched in some sort of text, then rejoined me. But a few steps down the riverside path, he fumbled the phone as he went to put it back in his pocket, and it clattered to the walkway. As he moved to get it, his toe hit the device and it shot over the side of the path, disappearing into the black water with a tiny splash. “Well, shit,” he said, then tugged me along as people crowded behind us. “I’ll have to get a replacement later.”
I glanced frantically back at the water. Frank had given us the phone, and it had felt like a lifeline. My grip on Asa’s hand was steely. “This doesn’t feel like an auspicious start,” I said quietly.
“How about now?” he asked as we reached the entrance of the high-rise to find guards divesting guests of their phones and any other electronic devices they happened to be carrying.
“I think I need another shot.”
He tugged me closer and nudged my chin upward. “I’ll get us through this. It’s you and me. Got it?”
No. It was supposed to be me and Ben. I clamped my eyes shut and shook my head to clear my thoughts. Asa wasn’t talking about anything but getting through the evening anyway. “Got it.”
We reached the guards at the door. They didn’t bother me at all, because it was pretty obvious I had nowhere to carry a phone. They patted down Asa, though, and for once, he didn’t have a single thing in his pockets. He just held his arms up and stared steadily at the guard who was running his hands down Asa’s lean torso. From the way Asa’s jaw was clenched, I was wondering if the guard was a Strikon, or maybe a Knedas. It made me hurt for him.
The crowd, men and women dressed just a notch above club attire, conversed in a variety of languages. I picked up German, Spanish, lots of Thai, and several other languages I couldn’t identify at all, another reminder of how far I was from my little hometown on the shores of Lake Michigan.
We were funneled through an entryway and into a massive lounge that was open to the riverfront. I gasped—the interior walls of the place were absolutely lined with what appeared to be artifacts: shards of broken pottery framed and mounted, gilt boxes containing who knew what, little golden pots, and stout engraved figurines. I felt like I’d entered a museum, except the wide expanse of the space was occupied by comfy modern couches, chairs, and coffee tables. A warm breeze floated through from the river outside. The guests were all talking among themselves, many of them eyeing the fascinating objects on display. Waitresses patrolled with trays of fruity drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Asa snagged a small glass of red liquid for me, sniffed at it, and handed it over. “Fruit punch and rum.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip and reminded myself to relax, lest some Sensilo nearby pick up my tense vibe. “Do you know who these people are?”
Asa scanned the crowd. “Mostly business contacts, looks like.” His eyes narrowed. “A few naturals, but not many, except for the staff. These people know what’s up, though. They either buy from him or pay him for protection—oh.”
“What is it?”
A grim smile spread across Asa’s face. “I’ve got competition. Montri’s got a sensor.” His eyes flicked toward a hallway to my left. “That could make this tricky.”
“Tricky?” I let out a weak chuckle. If the sensor was anything like Tao back in Chicago’s Chinatown, he’d know if any magic came in or out. I glanced at all the possible escape routes, the hallways, the wide-open glass doorways leading to the outside space, the various doors. A guard was posted at each, some armed, some simply lounging against the walls with their arms folded, watching the guests. I was betting those were the Strikon. My heart beat a little faster, and Asa pushed my glass up to my lips. I drank half of its contents before looking up again.
“Now what? Are you going to—”
Asa put his hand on my arm as he looked across the room. “I think I’m up.”
I turned in the direction he was facing to see a gorgeous woman approaching us. Her long black hair was pulled up in an intricate style punctuated by orchids and gold ribbon, and her tall, slender body was encased in a skintight sheath of embroidered red silk, matched by the wet crimson sheen on her lips. Her predatory gaze was focused on Asa as she moved through the mingling crowd, which parted to let her through, many of the men and some of the women taking the opportunity to stare hungrily at her. When she reached us, she paused for a moment, staring into Asa’s eyes, and then, slowly and gracefully, brought her hands up and pressed them together, bowing her head until her chin touched her thumbs.
Asa smirked and pressed his own hands together, bowing his head slightly but never taking his eyes off the woman. I had to stomp down a strange, uneasy feeling that twisted in my stomach at the sight.
“Mr. Johnson,” she said in a cool British accent, using the name Asa had used to check into our hotel and suddenly making me realize we must have been followed back there after our stop at the magic shop. “I am Maew, Mr. Montri’s assistant. Thank you for accepting his invitation. He is wondering if you would like to share a private drink with him in his study before he greets the rest of his guests.”
She swept her hand, tipped with long ruby-red fingernails, toward a room that lay up a few steps from the lounge, where two young men flanked a thick wooden door carved with the now-familiar runes.
Asa pressed a cocktail napkin to his sweaty forehead. “Sounds good. Just let me get my girl comfortable. She’s shy around strangers.”
“Of course,” said Maew, giving me a sly smile. “I have already selected a companion to entertain her while you are indisposed. Ho-Jun?” She beckoned to someone behind us. “Come here and meet . . .”
“Katie,” Asa said, using my hotel check-in name.
I recited it in my head a few times—I didn’t know how Asa kept all his aliases straight, but between the drinks and the stress, I’d be lucky to remember my real name, let alone my fake one. “Katie Halsworth,” I said.
“Ms. Halsworth, I would like to introduce you to Ho-Jun.”
A man in gray slacks and a crisp white dress shirt reached our side. His tan skin had golden undertones. His killer cheekbones tapered to a narrow jaw, and his straight nose topped a soft, almost feminine mouth. But when he smiled, everything about him said pure man.
Asa squeezed my fingers. “Jacks, baby,” he whispered.
I pressed my toe hard onto the wire bristles in my shoe. “Thanks.” As soon as the pain zinged across my skin and up my leg, so did the threat. They’d already gotten someone to stay with me while Asa was in with the boss. I had no doubt it was Ho-Jun’s job to take care of me if Asa tried to pull anything. And not in a friendly way.
“Um,” I said. “Nice to meet you. But I’m fine, really, and wouldn’t want to—”
“Give us a second.” Asa touched my shoulder, and I tore my gaze away from my new companion. “You remember how we met?” he murmured, lowering his head until our faces were only a few inches apart.
“Yeah.” Though honestly, at the moment, with Asa in my space like that, my thoughts were starting to fray at the edges.
“You were fearless,” he whispered, so quietly that I knew the words were meant only for me.
“You said I was stupid.”
His lips curved into a half smile. “You knew what you wanted.” He leaned closer. “And I might have been a sensor trying to do my job, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Even when I should have been paying attention to other things.”
I blinked up at him, confusion seeping in as his eyes bored into mine. “Huh?”
His hand slid into my hair. He was so close that his nose touched mine. My hands rose to his chest, but I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to push him away or ball my hands in his shirt and pull him closer. “Stop distracting me, baby,�
�� he said. “I’ve got work to do.”
And then he kissed me, a soft but commanding press of his mouth to mine. He pulled back quickly, a smug grin on his face. “See you in a bit.”
My fingers rose to my lips as I watched him turn and follow Maew toward Mr. Montri’s study. What the hell? Anger and betrayal flashed hot in my chest, but as Asa mounted the steps and I saw the little wet patch of sweat that had darkened a spot between his shoulder blades, it struck me.
He had played me again. And he never played without a reason.
Ho-Jun cleared his throat. “I know I am a poor substitute for Mr. Johnson,” he said in a slightly accented voice. “But I hope you will let me keep you company. Mr. Montri’s parties are always full of excellent diversions.”
Diversions. I drained my punch as I thought back to what Asa had just said to me. Couldn’t take my eyes off you. Should have been paying attention to other things. Was he telling me to create a distraction? I wiggled my big toe, brushing it back and forth over the bristles and trying not to wince as it abraded my skin. “Cool,” I said, offering Ho-Jun a bright smile. “I’m kind of a fish out of water here. I’ve never even been to Bangkok before.”
He offered his arm and led me farther into the room as even more guests crowded in. People were starting to disperse into various other rooms, though, and I could hear fast-paced club music issuing from somewhere down the wide corridor to our left. The lights had dimmed, and I sensed that the party was just kicking into gear.
And I had a master of manipulation at my side and desperately needed to stay sharp. I had no idea what Asa was up to, but seeing as he’d told me the relic we were after was right here in this space, I had a feeling he was going to make a play for it. I had to do whatever I could to help. But was I supposed to distract everyone? That seemed like a tall order given the sprawling layout of this place and the lack of any visible fire alarms. So was I supposed to distract someone specific . . . ? Wait. I might have been a sensor trying to do my job, Asa had said.
He must have wanted me to find the sensor and keep him occupied so he wouldn’t notice what Asa was up to.
I glanced around the jam-packed area. Asa had looked down this hallway when he’d sensed his opposite number, but that was the only clue I had—apart from a few potentially telltale signs.
“So . . . ,” I said as we headed for the dance floor. “Seems like a lot of people work for Mr. Montri. Do you each have your own specialties?” As we walked, I eyed every person we passed.
Ho-Jun laid his hand firmly over mine. “Ah, Miss Halsworth. I’m sure you will agree that such a topic is boring in the extreme, particularly when we have so many other options available to us.” He gave me a slow, appreciative once-over.
Crap. If I disagreed, he’d realize I had some resistance to his magic. “Yeah. Boring in the extreme. Lots of better things to do.” I beamed up at him, focusing on his handsome face and trying not to think about how his touch was making my skin crawl—not to mention my toe, which was raw from how hard I was having to press on those damn bristles. “So how about a dance?”
Ho-Jun smiled and guided me onto the dance floor. “That’s better. I hope you’re a good dancer.”
“Oh, honey,” I said. “Wait till you see my moves.”
Okay, so, this was something I could do. After years of dance-squad training and more than my share of frat parties, I could grind, shimmy, and drop with the best of them. But Ho-Jun was way close, and the more he touched me, the more my thoughts went hazy, threatening to make me forget my purpose. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I shifted into a hip-rolling salsa and scraped my stiletto heel hard against his ankle.
“A-pa!” He stumbled back and lifted his pant leg, revealing a gash that was already oozing blood.
“Oh my God,” I wailed. “I’m so sorry!”
He held up his hands, looking pained. “It’s all right. But I need to get this cleaned up. You stay here and dance until I return.”
Feeling triumphant (okay, and just a little tipsy as the rum kicked in), I saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
His brow furrowed.
“I-I mean . . . I’ll stay here and dance until you return.”
He frowned, but then nodded and headed back out into the hallway. As soon as he was out of sight, I did return to dancing, but I began to make my way around the floor, looking for anyone who might be this mysterious magic sensor Asa had felt. But everyone seemed to be having a damn good time. No one had that hollow-eyed stare or uncoordinated walk that Tao had had, and no one was sweating bullets like Asa always did.
How the heck was I supposed to distract someone I couldn’t find?
As the minutes slid by, my frustration mounted—this was the one thing Asa needed me to do while he attempted to steal the relic that could save Ben’s life. And here I was, twerking around like an idiot and wasting precious time. Just as I turned to escape into the corridor, though, Ho-Jun appeared in the archway, his dark eyes scanning the floor for me. I lurched backward, deeper into the room, squeezing myself between a few guys who seemed pretty darn happy about my arrival. I peeked under their arms to see Ho-Jun turning in place, his tapered jaw clenched.
If he found me now, I was in serious trouble.
With my heart pounding, I made it to the very back of the room and started to edge around the side, heading past a long table stocked with all sorts of goodies like I’d seen at the Phan Club, which I suspected were coated with Ekstazo magic. There was a small crowd around that table, and I slithered in between people so busy reaching for ecstasy that they barely noticed me shoving in among them. Each yard covered was precious ground. But then I neared the end of the table and caught a glimpse of Ho-Jun, still on the dance floor, twirling his finger near his head as he spoke to the two guys I’d used to camouflage my escape—he had to be describing my hair. As they all turned, looking for me, I pushed my way to the edge of the crowd around the goodie table, planning to leap back onto the floor and dance like my life depended on it.
I never made it, though—my toe caught on someone’s shoe, toppling me. As I fell, I instinctively grabbed for something to keep me from hitting the floor, and my fingers closed around an arm. Instead of holding me up, though, its owner let out a cry and pitched forward. I landed on my back.
He landed on top of me.
“Sorry,” I said with a wheeze as my unwilling companion raised his head.
The light caught hollow cheeks sheened with sweat, black hair practically dripping with it. “Are you all right?” the man asked in soft, heavily accented English. His eyes met mine, and I was struck by how deep the circles beneath them were.
Unbelievable. “Are you?”
He gave me a hesitant, puzzled-looking smile. “I am. Thank you for asking.” He braced his hands on either side and lifted his body from mine, then helped me up, his fingers trembling. He removed several little fluorescent hoops that he’d been wearing around his arm and tossed them back onto the table, shivering as he freed himself. Just as I wondered if he was hanging out by the goodie table because it was more tolerable than anywhere else, he pointed down at my right shoe—the heel had snapped clean off. “I’ve damaged you, I’m afraid.”
I chuckled and pulled my shoes off, carefully keeping my new companion between me and the pissed-off Knedas who was looking for me. “You probably saved me. Dancing in these was making my life flash before my eyes.”
“But you made it look like so much fun.”
I paused before tossing my useless shoes in a corner. “You were watching me?”
“It was very entertaining. My name is Daeng. And you are?”
“Ma—Katie.”
“Makatie?”
“Um. Just Katie.” I chuckled nervously. “Rum does funny things to my tongue.”
His eyebrows arched as his gaze fell to my mouth. “Does it now?”
I supposed this counted as distraction, though I really needed to make sure this guy was actually the one. And I needed to
do it somewhere else, because Ho-Jun had freaking disappeared, and I had no idea where he’d gone.
“May I get you another drink, then, Just Katie?”
I slipped my arm through his. “Please do, Mr. Daeng.”
Daeng began to steer me out of the room, and I fought the urge to glance behind me every other step. “I haven’t seen you before,” he said. His fingers closed around my wrist, firm and clammy. “I could have sworn you were an Ekstazo, but you have no magic at all.”
And there it was. This dude was totally a magic sensor. I pressed down the urge to whoop with happiness. “I make my own magic,” I said, putting my hand over his and hoping that whatever distraction Asa needed, it didn’t have to go on too long. I kind of hated to tease this guy.
Daeng stared with something like wonder at my fingers curled over his. “I can believe that. You have certainly raised my spirits tonight.”
I grinned, even as I felt a certain sad sympathy right alongside my jittery thrill that I seemed to have his full attention. But I didn’t get to enjoy more than a moment of that victory, because Daeng’s forehead crinkled and he peered toward the main room, where I’d left Asa.
I stepped into his path, desperate to keep his eyes on me. “Should we get something to eat? Or drink? Or . . .” I glanced toward the dance floor and was horrified to see Ho-Jun standing beneath the archway—his eyes on me. “Or how about we just go in here?” I grabbed Daeng’s hand and tried to pull him toward another room, this one full of Lava Lamps and soft couches. But he was still staring toward the main entrance.
“What brought you here tonight, Katie?” he asked, frowning.
“I’m just here with my boyfriend. He’s a businessman. He does . . . business.” I sounded like an idiot, and probably looked like one, too, as I tugged on Daeng, trying to draw his attention back to me. Ho-Jun was now headed my way, limping slightly. “But we’re not that serious,” I babbled as I attempted to pull Daeng toward the Lava Lamp room. “I mean. He’d like it to be serious, but I just don’t—”
“Excuse me,” Daeng said, releasing my wrist.