Draining his tea, Dec stood and stretched his arms over his head, yawning hugely. “I hope Rori’s getting more done than we are.”
Five minutes later, feeling like death would be the best nap ever, they rematerialized inside the Shanghai apartment and got ninja whacked the second their molecules got solid. Moving with complete silence, the attackers hit them from both sides, sending the two of them crashing into each other before careening into the wall. Soldier-mode kicked in instantly, and they threw themselves into the two people who were trying to kill them.
Fighting with his back to Dec’s, Sean hissed through his teeth and ducked as a big ass knife nearly took his head off. Dragging his own blade from its sheath, he lunged for blood with a furious curse on his lips.
The deafening crack of a gunshot froze everyone in a shocked tableau just before the pain hit Dec like a sledgehammer. The zinging adrenaline kept him on his feet for a nanosecond, but his head swam with dizziness that sent him staggering to his knees.
Rori and Aisling stepped out of the taxi in front of the library. The wedding was planned for 6:00 p.m. tomorrow. Rori knew she should be excited, but all she really felt right now was tired. It had been a long week. Besides the disruption that Af had caused and the unsettling visions, she’d been feeling anxious over something she simply couldn’t identify. A lingering sense of foreboding followed her around like a cloud.
Aisling touched her arm. “Do you want me to come in with you? I don’t mind looking around while you look for your friend. It’s been ages since I’ve been here.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to sit down? There are plenty of empty chairs out here.”
“I’m fine, Rori. I think I can handle walking around the library for a few minutes. Besides, I don’t like the way the sky’s behaving. It feels like . . .” Her voice trailed off as she tipped her head back to look upwards with a thoughtful crease between her eyes.
Rori followed her gaze. The sky was overcast with clouds that dipped so low they hid the upper floors of the skyscrapers. The faint hint of rain dappled their skin, making her hair frizz and her face itch. The normal buzz of busy New Yorkers going about their routines seemed subdued somehow. It was as if the entire city held its breath. Waiting. The eerie sense of loss swamped her again and she shuddered to shake it off.
Holding her palm up as if weighing the air, Aisling frowned. “It feels odd. Almost charged somehow. Do you think it’s Af, or just a natural storm? Could his energy affect the entire city like this?” She studied the handful of people scattered around the wrought iron tables next to the building.
Everyone’s heads were bent to their screens—cellphones, laptops, whatever. No one spoke. No one laughed. There were no kids around, either. It was oddly quiet. She opened her mouth to comment on that just as a shadow moved across the street. Her eyes snapped to the motion and she froze in stunned horror.
No way! It couldn’t be. Reeling with sudden panic, she stared intently at the shaded space beneath the scaffolding, but the vision was gone. There was nothing but the usual glass storefront. Swallowing the lingering fear, she put her hand over her pounding heart and took a deep breath. He’s dead. He’s gone. He can’t reappear. It’s not possible. Get a grip, woman!
“I’m making myself insane,” she muttered, shaking her head to erase the image. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I don’t want to make April wait. She hasn’t been feeling well. Do you mind if we take her home when we’re done? I don’t want her to walk all that way. I’ll shove her into a taxi with both hands if I have to.”
Aisling cracked a smile. “I’ll help you.” She flexed a bicep and joked, “Between the two of us, I think we can take her.”
She patted the adorable bulge of Aisling’s belly and said, “You’re too pregnant to be bullying little old ladies. Leave the brute force to me.”
The cool air of the lobby barely cut through the sticky humidity that followed them inside. Normally she would take the time to stand here for a minute, breathing in the scent of old books and soaking up the peaceful vibes that she loved so much. Usually that peaceful feeling welcomed her, wrapping her in its arms, soothing her anxiety, helping her relax after a hectic day much like a hug from a dear old grandmother.
But that didn’t happen today. The familiar dusty fragrance of old books was missing. A repulsive sour odor greeted them instead. Beside her, Aisling wrinkled her nose and coughed. Yeah, she felt that way too. What is that godawful smell? Sewage leak?
Aisling covered her nose and said with a half-choked laugh, “Smells like decomp. Did someone die in here?”
An icy shiver of foreboding crawled between her shoulders. April! “Oh, no! It can’t be.” Plowing through the center of the hallways, she made a beeline straight to the seating area that April liked best. Empty. No people, either alive or dead. Her thoughts raced as she glanced around in a panic. Memories of Arthur’s face filled her mind and she stumbled into a table as a wave of dread washed over her. Was April dead now? What about that shadow on the street? Was that an omen? Some kind of sign? No, no, no! April was not dead. Her imagination was off the charts today. It was stress. Worry over everything else going on. April was fine. She had to be. She had to be. Right?
Think, Rori, just think. They were a few minutes late. Maybe April had gotten tired of waiting and left. Maybe she’s in the ladies’ room. Was she outside waiting? Did they miss her?
Aisling stopped her tumbling thoughts with a hand on her arm. “Rori, stop. You’re not going to find her by panicking. Let’s go ask the woman at the information desk. Wouldn’t she remember her?”
Aisling was right. She was practically panting with panic. She needed to calm down. Just because April wasn’t here, didn’t mean she wasn’t okay. She was probably sitting just outside wondering where the heck Rori was. Laughing breathlessly, she agreed. “Good idea. Let’s go ask Mrs. Brassard. She always chats with April when she comes in.”
“Maybe she can explain the decomp.”
Mrs. Brassard was a tall, slightly stooped, plain woman who was somewhere between fifty and seventy years old. Her thick, coarse hair was coiled into a messy bun and pinned to the center of her rather large head. They found her crouched behind a desk, stuffing papers into a series of folders.
Not wanting to startle her, Rori cleared her throat before saying, “Mrs. Brassard?”
She unfolded her frame with great care, yet the soft pop of her joints was noticeable in the hushed space. Grimacing slightly, she pushed a pair of horn-rimmed glassed to the top of her head and graced them with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, ladies. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to miss today too.”
“Too?”
She sat the stack of papers on the desk and nodded politely at Aisling. “Yes, Rori. I haven’t seen April today. In fact, she didn’t come in last week either. I’d assumed you two had made some agreement to miss your normal get-togethers.” She waved vaguely. “Vacations or some such thing. I was very nearly envious as I imagined the lovely places you might go with that handsome man of yours.”
Aisling rolled her eyes. “Is there anybody who doesn’t like Dec?”
Rori couldn’t help grinning at the sarcasm in Aisling’s voice. “Not if they’re female.” To Mrs. Brassard, she said, “As a matter of fact, I’m planning a honeymoon at the moment. We’re getting married tomorrow night.”
Aisling murmured from the corner of her mouth, “Maybe.”
Maybe wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but Ais was right. If the guys didn’t get back from their secret mission, they’d miss the ceremony. Then she would have to kill Dec, and Sean too, because it would probably be Sean’s fault. After killing them, she’d have to take Loki and disappear so their maker wouldn’t be able to find her and do whatever it was that Archangels did to people who killed their soldiers. Odds were good that it would hurt. That would suck. Completely.
Aisling nudged her with too much understanding in her eyes. “Hey, they’ll be back. I’m sure of it.
In the meantime, let’s go track down your lady friend so you’ll stop stressing about her. There’s enough to do before tomorrow and I’m dying for some time to shop. I can almost hear new boots calling my name.”
With one hand tapping against her discarded folders, Mrs. Brassard only lifted a bushy brow at their exchange. Message received; she was a busy woman, so Rori said goodbye. Just as they turned to leave, she hesitated and swiveled back around. “Mrs. Brassard, what’s that terrible smell? Was there a sewage line break or something?”
The older woman’s face screwed up in confusion. She settled her glasses onto her nose and replied sincerely, “What smell, dear?”
The white light was peaceful. The white light was soothing. The white light was—
Blinding the shit out of him! Scrunching his entire face into an unhappy mask, he swatted weakly at the space in front of his eyes. Go away!
“Dec! Wake up before I call Dimitri and Alex and tell them you got shot by a friggin’ ninja! Do you really want them to hear about this? You’ll never live it down.”
Cringing away from the light, he dragged a hand over his eyes to shield them. Fucking Sean. “Turn off that stupid light. Are you an idiot? I just got shot in the head.”
“Yeah, I know. I was there.” Without any remorse at all, Sean tossed his cellphone to the side where its flashlight app decorated the wall next to his head. Squatting down, he gave Dec a reassuring smile and handed him a kitchen towel. “Here. Keep this pressed on the wound. Good news is you’ll live. The bullet bounced off of your thick skull and ricocheted into the wall. It missed my face by about three inches, but I won’t hold that against you. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”
Dec pushed himself to a sitting position, grimacing at the overpowering metallic scent of his blood pouring down his neck. Swallowing the flood of saliva that always accompanied this much blood, he pressed the towel to the side of his head just above his right ear. Sean was right. There was only a thin groove that was about three inches long.
“So what’s the bad news?”
Unfolding himself to standing again, Sean gestured at two prone humans. “Well, the guy who shot you is dead. You jammed your knife in his gut before your eyes rolled back in your head. Guess you hit something important.” He nodded with approval. “Good job on that, bro. The other asshole’s still alive because I showed more restraint than you for a change. Take a minute. When you’re ready to do this, we’ll see what the hell’s going on here.”
Blinking at the bodies, he shook his head in confusion and regretted it as pain lanced across his melon. “Shit. That hurts.” Tossing the bloody towel to the floor in disgust, he said, “Give me a minute to fix this. I can’t think right now.”
Smirking with amused brotherly sympathy, Sean helped him to his feet but let his supporting hand linger to be sure Dec didn’t fall over. His damn eyes twinkled as he turned Dec towards the bathroom. “The blood’s getting to you, right? Go heal in the shower. You’ll feel better.”
Too tired to come up with a clever denial, he only nodded, said, “Yep,” and carefully moved to the shower without bothering to strip. The hot water sluicing over him was heavenly. Closing his eyes, he let it clean his clothes as he drew his healing energy to the small wound. Knitting the skin together and relieving the pounding headache only took a few seconds, but he hung out under the spray for a while longer. Sean’s impatient banging on the door finally dragged him out of a doze and he reached for the shampoo.
It was gone.
And the plot thickens. Well, hell. Now what? After using the last bit of Keil’s body wash to scrub his hair and, well, all visible skin, he rinsed off, and dragged a towel through his hair. Dripping everywhere, he sighed. Keil would be pissed, but he’d have to get over it. He needed dry clothes.
When he finally made it back to the living room, their prisoner was in the middle of yammering something in Chinese that was only pissing Sean off. Now sitting sullenly on the edge of the couch, the guy didn’t look like much of a threat. Judging from the way Sean’s mouth was moving, he was cursing under his breath.
He could sympathize. This day was rapidly starting to suck. “So has he said anything in English?”
With a disgusted grunt, Sean slapped the guy in the back of the head. “No. But lucky for him I’m not in a patient mood, and we don’t have time for a long, drawn out torture session. If he doesn’t want to answer my questions, I’ll just kill him and dump his body. What’s one more dead fake ninja?” He flashed an evil grin with a conspiratorial wink. “Are those Keil’s clothes? You know he’s going to kill you, right?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know; but wet jeans chafe when there’s nothing between them and my balls. Keil will survive.”
The man tied on the couch muttered something ugly beneath his breath and glared balefully at Dec. At medium height with a medium build, shaved head, a niiiice tribal tat twisting around his arm, and dressed in black skinny jeans and a clingy black t-shirt, he wasn’t much of a ninja, really. He looked more like the lead singer from an emo band. This was the asshole that jumped them? He seemed much bigger in the dark . . . and when he was swinging that huge knife around.
Dec crossed his arms and studied the man’s expression without saying a word. The man dropped his eyes to stare at the wall in front of them. A tic jumped in his jaw despite his bravado.
Letting his mouth curl into a hint of a smile, he drew his Primani blade and tapped it against his palm. Time to get this show on the road. He had a schedule to meet. After pinning his eyes to the guy’s face, he slowly and purposefully circled around to the back of the couch. As if tied by a string, his head swiveled to follow Dec as he moved, his harsh face paling with every step. By the time Dec was standing behind him, his shoulders were actually trembling. Perfect.
Snatching the guy by the top of his skull, Dec yanked his head back and slid the sharp side of the blade under his jaw. With his voice lowered to a purr, he said, “I don’t have time for games. I’m going to ask you nicely. If you don’t answer me nicely, I’m going to slit your throat.” He pressed the knife just a wee bit for emphasis. The taut skin popped like a grape. The man’s eyes bugged with fear.
Dec raised his chin towards Sean. “I think he understands English, bro.”
Sean agreed with another evil smile. “I think you’re right. Do you want to ask him or should I?”
“I got this.” He wiggled the blade a bit and the man’s body stiffened. Okay, he’s primed. He withdrew the knife and came back around the couch. Pulling up a chair, he sat back and asked, “You ready?”
The man started to answer in Chinese, hesitated, and shrugged before switching to English. “What do you want to know?”
Ah, he does speak English. “Where is Keil?”
“That is very good question. I do not know. He was not here when we came.”
“What business do you have with him?”
His face filled with angry color. He leaned forward and nearly snarled, “He is fucking my sister!”
“Oh, is that all?” Sean’s sarcasm came through loud and clear.
Dec smothered a smile behind his hand. “So he’s screwing your sister. What’s the big deal? Is she over 21?”
“Yes! She is old enough to do what she wants, but she should not be with this man. My father is concerned.”
“Let me guess. She’s supposed to marry a close friend of your family? Maybe an important business associate? She’s decided to rebel and your father’s pissed off about it? Did you come here to threaten him, or to kill him?”
The man’s swollen lips curled with derision. “My name is Li Jun Chen. My father is only a simple butcher in Taiwan; so no, it is not for business that we are worried. My sister, Wang Li, has not been well. She is . . .” He frowned, searching for words. “She is crazy in her head.”
Oh, yay! And this day just keeps getting better and better and more fucking better.
Leaning into Li Jun’s space, Dec demanded, “Where is
your sister now?”
Sean interrupted before Li Jun could answer. “We need to wrap this up. Just give us the short version so we can decide whether or not to let you leave here with all your parts attached. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
Li Jun swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath the layer of dried blood. “If I tell you everything, will you let me go? My brother is already dead and my father will be heartbroken if all of his children are gone.”
“Yes. Yes. Get on with it. What happened here?” He was not in the mood for this. He wanted to find Keil and drag his butt back to New York ASAP.
“We followed Wang Li to this place a few days ago. We wanted to take her away from this man—this Keil—but she would not open the door for us. We left and came back today to try again. When no one answered the door, we broke in to look around.” He shrugged off their identical scowls. “She wasn’t here and your friend wasn’t here. We were just leaving when you came through the door.”
Amused by this obvious bullshit, Dec cut his eyes to Sean’s and gave his a head a wag. Seriously?
Sean barked a hard laugh and said in a dangerously reasonable tone, “Oh, really? You just happened to come in here—armed to the teeth—just to look around for your poor crazy sister? And you just happened to decide to turn into ninjas and try to kill us without even asking who the fuck we are? You really expect us to believe that you and your dead homey are only concerned brothers looking out for their sister? Do I look that stupid to you?”
Holding up a hand, Sean snapped, “Don’t answer that. Here’s what I think. I think you two assholes and your sister are into some shady shit. Drugs? Guns? Prostitution? Hell, it could be espionage or terrorism, but I’d bet your life that this entire story is crap. I think your sister latched onto our buddy as either a target to exploit or an escape route away from you dicks. It doesn’t matter which. You came in here hoping to find Keil so you could take him out. Am I right?”
Saol Mates (Primani Book Six) Page 15