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Reno responded with an epithet vulgar enough to make the cashier blush, and Taka punched him in the arm. “Behave yourself, cousin.”
Reno just snorted, stalking out of the store into the wintry morning air. “I noticed you didn’t get any clothes for your girlfriend.”
“She’s not coming with me.”
“She’s not staying with me,” Reno warned. “I put up with her for your sake, but if you’re not around I’d probably strangle her.”
“She’s harder to kill than you might think,” he said.
Reno just looked at him. “Holy motherfucker,” he said. “You’re in love with the gaijin.”
“In love?” Taka echoed, managing a derisive laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“What’s that got to do with anything? And if you’ve fallen in love with her, then you’re the crazy one. Love’s a waste of time. Love’s like a knife—it’ll cut your balls off and stab you in the back.”
“And what, little cousin, would you know about love?” he countered softly.
“I keep as far away from it as I can, which I thought you’d be smart enough to do as well. Grandfather found a woman willing to marry you, and sooner or later you could become the good salaryman he always wanted. He could almost forget your parentage, and while he wouldn’t leave the company to someone of impure blood, he’d at least leave you a shitload of money and his fancy houses. And Mitsuko has a very nice ass, if you ask me.”
“She has a very nice ass,” Taka agreed. “But I don’t want it. Or the houses, or the company.”
“Don’t tell me you want the American?”
“No,” Taka said, not even considering whether it was a lie or not. “Sooner or later she’d drive me crazy.”
“Probably sooner,” Reno said. “So where are you going to stash her while we go into the mountains? I don’t think there’s time to put her on a plane back home, which is where she needs to be.”
“We?”
“Don’t you remember American television? The line is ‘What’s this we, white man?’ I’m going with you. Where do we stash the girl?”
“You’re not coming with me,” Taka said flatly. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave her with you. You must know someone who can babysit her. Someone who doesn’t understand English, so she won’t drive him crazy. Someone who won’t get distracted and let her out of his sight.”
“Crazy Jumbo might do it. Former sumo wrestler, not too bright. He’d just sit on her if she got too yappy.”
“I don’t—”
A loud screeching of guitars interrupted him, and Reno dived into his leather jacket for his cell phone. “What?” he snarled. His expression changed, his voice lowered, and he moved off to a less crowded piece of the sidewalk. By the time Taka caught up with him Reno had already finished the conversation and was looking rattled. It took a lot to get Reno rattled.
“That was Grandfather. They’ve got Su-chan.”
Taka didn’t even notice Reno’s use of the affectionate term. “Who does?” His voice was deadly.
“Who do you think?” Reno said. “They want the urn, or they’re going to liberate her to her next karmic level, according to the note Grandfather got. You’re supposed to bring them the urn.”
Taka’s blood had frozen in his veins, like the cold winter wind swirling through the crowded city. “Where?”
“You’re kidding, right? You can’t give it to them. They’ll kill her anyway, and if you give them the relic they’ll be able to start their holy war. You can’t do it.”
Taka dropped his package of clothes, caught Reno’s leather jacket in one hand and slammed him against the wall. “Where?”
“Tonight, at the ruins of the temple. Either your girlfriend told them, or they’ve bugged my apartment. It doesn’t matter which—they know where the ancient site is, and they want you there. You’re just playing into their hands, Taka-san. They’ll kill her and they’ll kill you. I don’t care how skilled you are, one man against so many is doomed.”
“Two men, Reno. You’re coming with me.”
Reno detached Taka’s hand from his jacket, brushing it lazily. “I thought you’d see it my way sooner or later. Let’s go.”
She felt sick. At least this time she was in the back seat of a car and not in the trunk, for all the good it did her. She still had a bag over her head, but at some point they’d changed her clothes, and she was wearing something loose and light. And cold. Her hands were tied behind her back and something was across her mouth so she couldn’t scream. She was curled up in a corner of some kind of vehicle, and the ride was very bumpy, as if they were going over a road of logs and tree stumps. There was a familiar, unpleasant smell in the car, and it took her only a moment to recognize it. The True Realization Fellowship favored a particularly sickly sweet incense, and the scent clung to the followers’ clothing. She moved her head down to her shoulder and sniffed the fabric of whatever they’d put her in. The same nasty stuff.
