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Takato laughs. “I know exactly what I’ve done, little princess,” he growls.
“He’ll come for me.”
He grins. “Who, your fake husband? I doubt it. He’ll simply find another pretty whore to help sell his campaign of bullshit, like every other lying politician?—”
“You have no idea what he is, or what he’s capable of.”
Takato snorts. “If I need an American lawyer, I’ll be sure to call?—”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Takato frowns as I step closer, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“He’s a monster,” I hiss quietly. “And you never, ever steal things from monsters.”
The room is silent for a second. Takato eyes me through his frown. Slowly, his lips curl.
“Well,” he mutters. “I suppose I’ll take my chances.” He nods to the priest. “Gishiki o hajimera.”
Begin the ceremony.
My skin turns clammy as the priest turns and begins to purify the altar laden with fruit and sake. As is tradition, he rings a bell, calling for the attention of the Kami spirits before turning to address Takato and I.
Which is exactly when the lights go out.
My heart rate spikes as Takato swears next to me, barking orders at his two men.
He’s here.
He came for me.
Somehow, I can feel Gabriel’s presence even though the whole room is pitch black. Like that cold spot you swim through when doing laps. Like the night air at the tail end of fall when it teases the hairs on the back of your neck.
Like a blade, dragged lightly over your skin.
One of Takato’s men yells. A shot rings out, then another. Then five more, from two different directions. I drop to the floor, covering my head and curling into a ball as yelling and gunshots fill the sacred space.
Suddenly, I’m being grabbed.
My throat closes as I’m yanked to my feet, panic exploding through my system like fiery napalm. I whirl, hissing as I kick out with my heel, hoping to hurt Takato so that he releases his grip. But suddenly, I’m gasping as my leg is caught in a strong hand, twisted, and pulled up hard against a muscled hip.
Powerful, strong, familiar hands grab my body and draw me against a rock-hard chest.
“Run, Kitten,” he rasps into my ear before his teeth nip sharply at the lobe. “Run like I’m chasing you.”
I do.
The whole place is still dark, but I can see the lights of Kyoto through the cracks around the doorway. I sprint for that, choking on a scream when I hear another gunshot, then a grotesque gurgling sound.
“Fumi!”
I swerve right, away from the sound of Takato snarling my name. Sprinting forward, I grit my teeth as I use my shoulder to slam open a door to the outside. It’s a side door that leads out to a little terrace at the edge of the cliff, and some stairs?—
I skitter to a stop, my heart lurching as I grip the railing of the terrace, almost going over.
There are no stairs. Just rotted wood pylons where stairs used to be.
I start to turn, desperate to find another escape.
