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My mouth had gone drier than Death Valley. “None of us checked the news this morning, huh? It turns out someone defaced the arena in Nagano where Worlds is going to be held—just trashed the place.”
“What?” Niko’s eyes widened. “Who would do that?”
I raised my head with a grim smile, my stomach churning queasily. “Our new friends say they know it was people sent by my mom. A warning, or just a temper tantrum because she knows how important skating is to me. Either way, she’s obviously not willing to let this vendetta go.”
SEVEN
Niko
Lou stared at the television,raking her hands through the loose waves of her hair. The reporter on the news cast was speaking in Japanese, but the footage playing behind him made it clear what he was talking about. Imagery of Nagano’s main skating arena, the doors bashed in, the light fixtures smashed and bent, and the walls streaked with crude spraypainted images slid by.
Lou let out a groan, one of many she’d voiced over the last several hours, and not the kind I liked to hear from her. “I can’t believe this is happening. Threatening me directly is one thing. Now she’s trying to fuck up the entire competition for everyone!”
Jasper came over and tucked his arm around her waist. “It sucks, but you know your mother plays dirty. No matter what she does, it isn’t your fault.”
Lou threw her hands in the air. “I still have to deal with it. Obviously the March Wind and the Bright Dragon did shit-all to keep her in line.”
As if on cue, her phone vibrated where she’d left it on the coffee table after several past calls. I leaned over to check the number and made an apologetic face at her. “That’s another one of the TV stations. Looking to get a quote from you, probably.”
Lou rubbed her arms and tensed up all over again when a clip from her and Jasper’s performance at the US National Championships played across the screen. “Oh, crap. Have they connected the vandalism to me after all?”
I stepped closer to the TV to listen to the commentary. After a few sentences, I shook my head. “No, it’s the same as before. They’re talking about the shooting incident here in Tokyo as another example of recent crime in the skating world—saying how they haven’t seen anything like this before and how it appears figure skaters have become a target for criminal activity for unknown reasons.”
“If they figure out it was all the same person behind those crimes—and that she’s my mother…”
I came up at Lou’s other side and squeezed her shoulder. “There’s no way they could find that out. You’re not even using your birth name, and your mother doesn’t advertise her real business anyway.”
My phone chimed in my pocket. It’d been even noisier than Lou’s and Jasper’s since the story had broken nation-wide.
Quentin raised his eyebrows at me from across the living room. “You’re awfully popular too.”
I grimaced and ignored the text that’d come in. “I was the main victim in the first attack, and I live here. It makes sense that they’re even more eager to talk to me.”
But I had nothing useful to tell the reporters. I’d responded to the first several inquiries with brief remarks about how I was saddened by the incident but recovering well from my own assault. Normally I enjoyed talking with the media, but I was getting tired of it. These new texts I could wait to respond to.
Lou sighed and flopped down on the sofa. “I’m going to have to reply to someone eventually, right? What can I possibly tell them?”
Rafael came up to the back of the sofa and rested his broad hands there in a protective pose. “You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to.”
I sat down next to her. “He’s right. But it might be good to pick one or two places to give a statement to. Why don’t we wait a little longer and then sort through the requests? I’ll help you pick the best venues.”
Lou’s shoulders slumped. “I still don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say very much,” I reassured her. “Remember, they don’t know that you’re personally involved in the new situation. We’ll decide together, but you can say something along the lines of how you want to stay focused on your skating and you trust the local police to find the culprits.”
“Right.” Lou exhaled in a slow stream. “It doesn’t need to be anything more than that. Ishouldn’tsay anything else. If I get flustered, I might give something away.”
Jasper crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t forget that you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. You didn’t do anything; you didn’t know it was going to happen.”
I couldn’t tell if she’d really relaxed. Seeing her so distressed made my own gut twist into an uncomfortable ball.
Before I could think of anything else to offer, my phone trilled with an incoming call. Restraining a groan of my own, I checked the call display, drew up a chipper attitude, and answered in Japanese. “This is Niko Okabe.”
“Mr. Okabe,” the reporter on the other end said in our native language. “I’m glad I could reach you. I assume you heard about the incident at the World Championship arena in Nagano earlier today.”
“Yes,” I said, repeating the words that were rote by now. “I was horrified to see it. Who would have thought skating could draw so much hostility! All we can do is keep training and hope that the beauty of our art softens the hearts of those who want to attack us.”
“Well said, sir.”
