To Honor: Vampire Assassin League #22 (6 page)

He shouldn’t have told her.

No
. He had to tell her. That was one of the rules of the Vampire Assassin League. No human could be turned unless they knew the truth and agreed. That included mates. There’d been very few exceptions. Very few.

He should have waited.

No
. Time did not solve anything. A thing did not become easier with procrastination. It became harder, and loomed larger.

He could have used better words.

How?
He’d been raised to be introspective. Contemplative. Take time to consider each word, weigh the consequences. There were four things that could not be taken back. The careless word was one of them.

And all of that had equaled what?

He had his mate in his arms, he was still sheathed within her, but she was looking at him with something indefinable in her wide dragon green eyes. He didn’t recognize her expression. It looked like a combination of shock and horror, mixed with skepticism. He’d never come up against such a conundrum, nor a more inopportune time. His body was vibrating in place. He probably still glowed with the remaining throes of paradise. He’d just experienced bliss. Boundless joy. Absolute rapture.

For the first time in his existence.

He didn’t know how he’d managed to communicate at all. Everything was too satiated. Almost drugged. And he certainly hadn’t weighed anything before he said it. It appeared that he should also have taken her from the room before the sprinkling system activated.

He’d been wet many times. Bathing. Rainfall. He’d forgotten what it felt like. The silk was getting saturated atop him. The material grew chilled and clammy, stealing warmth. The smell was another issue. Wet wood smell was combined with assorted other burnt items. It wasn’t pleasant.

He decided, in hindsight, that there were a lot of things he should have done differently.

“Um. Takeshi? We need to have a talk,” she informed him.

Good. She wasn’t looking horrified or shocked anymore. He couldn’t tell about her eyes. She’d moved her gaze. She appeared to be focusing on his mouth. He nodded.

“Before that, um. We need to get up,” she continued.

He nodded again.

“And then we need to get dressed. Okay?”

A strange thing happened to him. Sudden. Intense. A sharp itch stung both eyes. It was accompanied by a blizzard of shivering. Cold shivers. He hadn’t anything to go by, but could this be...an urge to weep?

No. Never
. Takeshi Asourah of the Aka-sourah Clan sobbing? Never.

The shiver worsened. He blinked rapidly and viciously, and started sucking for little bits of air. As he watched, a tear slid from beneath the lashes of one of her eyes. That’s when he knew for certain what the urge to weep felt like. He shuddered through each small breath, in tandem with her. Takeshi nearly joined her in crying. He conquered it with sheer willpower. Called on every bit of strength. And sent his mind back to his earliest years of training.

Takeshi Asourah was a ninja. A shadow warrior. A death dealer. The entire Aka-sourah clan had been. They’d been raised with violence and punishment. The ability to feel anything had been beaten out of them. Emotion was driven out of existence. The goal was self-control. And Takeshi had excelled. But then he’d met Christine, been reanimated, and these lessons were lost. Forgotten. The ability to feel emotion had returned with a vengeance. Well. He was halting it.

An Aka-sourah clan member never cried. They’d die first.

His eyes cleared. His sinuses followed. The shivering ceased next. His mate was an exact match. She must have a wealth of inner strength to draw from. He watched her tear trail start to dry. Heard and felt her sniff. And then she moved her gaze back to his. The look she gave him hadn’t a hint of sorrow to it. It didn’t have emotion to it, at all. Her eyes resembled glass.

It was just like looking into his jade headboard.

“You need to let me up,” she said.

“Oh.
Hai.
”

His answer was in the exact same calm, level tone she used only his was an octave deeper. But granting her request was much more difficult that it sounded. Even his skin tried to cling to hers. Takeshi sat, the move separating them. The elastic band of his trousers started inching up from where it hugged his thighs. The black silk tented around his head. The sprinklers may have shut off. There was a sense of dampness in this makeshift enclosure with her, but it was dry. Tomb dark. If he hadn’t vampiric senses, he wouldn’t have seen how she covered her breasts with one arm.

Like a shield.

Against him.

He looked aside, and worked at ignoring the flush that crept beneath his skin, warming and tinting him. Even with his newly restored physiological reactions, he’d never dealt with this so many times. Since meeting her, he’d had several incidents where he’d blushed. Gotten embarrassed. Showed anxiety. Clumsiness. He didn’t know how to control any of it. And thus far, his ninja training was useless. He was probably in luck that she couldn’t see much.

Her
yakuta
lay in a heap beside him. Takeshi lifted the robe, shook it slightly, and held it out to her. He’d been off on her ability to see. She took it without hesitation with her free hand and unerringly donned it, hiding her nakedness. And then he remembered. They’d shared blood. Her vision might be the match to his.

He hooked a thumb in the waist of his pants and hitched them up. The elastic had been stretched. They wouldn’t stay up easily. But he was covered. He didn’t know what to say. Do. Try. He’d never felt so awkward. And he felt the flush from that realization clear to his lower belly.

“Well. That’s...one thing down. Ready for the next objective?”

“Next objective?”
Did making love have such things?

“We need to get up. Dressed. Find a place. Someplace...dry.”

“Ah. Yes. Dry.”

The robe clung to her body, outlining everything. She’d worked the silk into place beneath the obi sash about her waist. She had the most amazing body. Hand-sized breasts. Small, dart-like nipples. The tiniest waist. And – oh – her scent! She had the most tantalizing scent. A blend of fire-smoke and spice-filled marketplace. He blended his own incense. He couldn’t place what he’d need for her. And then he factored in her eyes. The impact of being near her was beyond extraordinary. He could barely think, let alone form words.

“You do have someplace like that?”

“Like what?”

“Look. Takeshi. Um. We really need to talk. I need to get the air cleared. And...I can’t do it with my hormones on overdrive. Okay?”

“Hormones on overdrive?”
What did that mean?

“Okay. You want it plain? You got it. I’m the manager of commercial development for a really large company. I handle global interests. I’ve got my own staff, a windowed office in Manhattan, a really nice income. I have all that because I’m worth it. I’m known for hard-nosed dealings, tough negotiation, and straight talk. Got it?”

He shook his head. She was becoming more animated the longer she talked. Her hands moved. Her eyes sparked green daggers up at him. He much preferred that to the glassy-look. He’d almost smiled during her speech. Twice.

“Really? I usually don’t have any trouble communicating. With anyone. I have to admit, however, that I am having a bit of trouble, um. Around you. There’s something...I just can’t figure out. Why don’t we just call it sexual attraction? Okay? And it’s pretty severe. Maybe you should find a shirt.”

Everything in his world went bright. Clear. Sparks bubbled through his veins, nearly causing a chortle. He held the jubilation close. Clasped his hands together at the base of his abdomen and tightened them into knots. Breathed as calmly and deeply as possible. He had to. He didn’t know how she’d react otherwise.

“So. Takeshi. You want to get us to a dry place? Or—! What the hell? How do you move so fast?”

Takeshi had grabbed her to him and jumped, clearing the tunnel entrance to his
honden.
He didn’t answer. Anything he tried to say might contain his elation. He shot down a hallway. Turned corners. Passed several options. The black silk that had canopied his bed fluttered about them like a cape. She had her arms wrapped about his waist. Her head tucked beneath his chin. Surely she didn’t expect him to moderate movement when his soul was soaring?

“Takeshi?”

Her heart was the match to his. Beating rapidly. His was from complete and total joy. Hers might be fright. That slowed him. His feet dropped to the carpeted floor with only a slight bump. He’d decided. He was taking her to where they’d be alone. Completely.

His Himalayan hideaway.

They reached the hangar. His newest jet. It felt right. The décor even welcomed them back. It was in his favorite. Black leather covered seating, dark mahogany wood, soft lighting. The door whispered shut behind them. The silk material settled against his back. He’d moved so quickly, it was almost dry. He could hear the engines starting up. Christine was breathing rapidly, taking his breath along. He smacked at an intercom button, swallowing against the breathlessness. As if racing hallways with his mate in his arms was strenuous.

“Okay. This kidnapping stuff is getting old,” Christine said.

“One moment,
watashi no ai
.”

He touched her lip with his forefinger as the intercom beeped. Her eyes went wide. Her heart stopped. He knew, because his did the exact same thing. And then his knees wobbled. All amazingly enjoyable.

“Morning, Boss. Where to?”

He’d hired Vaughn for the season. The man had worked for the Vampire Assassin League for years. He was the best pilot they had. He was also arrogant. Cocky. His services weren’t usually available, but Takeshi had an edge. His hydrogen company experimented with aircraft. Technology. Speed. And Vaughn had been bored.

“Nepal.”

“Make that New York,” Christine interrupted.

“Why would I wish to go there?” he asked her.

“Because I live there.”

“It’s too small.”

“Small? There are millions of people there. Small?”

“I’m Japanese,” he replied. “Have you seen Tokyo?”

“So...what’s it gonna be, Boss?”

Vaughn’s voice boomed through the cabin. Christine had a set look to her mouth. Her eyes weren’t lush and open, either. They looked about as hard as the jade wall again. Takeshi sighed.

“New York,” he announced to the space about him.

“Fair enough. I’ll get flight plans and fuel stops in place. Have a seat. Fasten some seat belts, and—. I don’t know why I say it. You guys have zero idea of air security. Do whatever you want back there.”

The intercom went silent. A hum started up. The structure about them shuddered then moved. Christine gasped. He matched it. He really wished she’d stop doing that. It unbalanced him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Taking me home.”

“Oh. Gratitude is not necessary, but appreciated. You wish to talk now?”

“Um...let me rain-check that. Okay?”

“Rain-check?” She used another unfamiliar term. He frowned slightly.

“Exactly. Look. I’m traveling to one of the busiest cities on earth and I’m a mess.”

“You look beautiful.”

“You need to put me down. Okay?”

It didn’t sound like an option. So Takeshi set her on her feet and removed his arms. Reluctantly. He then took a step backward. He instantly felt as if a Himalayan wind had brushed across him. Chilling. Solitary.

“All right. Good. Next item of business - I’m going to go make use of your fantastic shower. I hope you have something presentable I can change into afterward. Other than silk pajamas, that is.”

“I have everything you need.”

“You have women’s clothing?”

“Yes.”

“In my size?” Her eyebrows lifted.

“Yes. Size four. American.”

“Close enough. I suppose you have my shoe size, too?”

“
Hai.
Size five. Also American.”

“I suppose you have American styles, too?”

“Uh.”

That one he couldn’t answer with any certainty. Not for this plane. He’d bought women’s clothing over the centuries, when something caught his eye. He’d told himself it was for the same reason he bought anything. Collecting. Asset maturing. Selling. His acquisitions had come first from markets, then shopping centers, and then he’d purchased items over the internet. He hadn’t known he’d been preparing for his mate. He should have.

“I’ll just look in the closet for myself. Okay? I sure hope you have something...a little formal. I don’t want to show up at the airport looking like an Asian concubine.”

“You do not look like one now.”

“Right. Hold that thought. I’ll be back.”

“You will return?”

He probably deserved the look she gave him. She didn’t answer, either. She simply walked to the door. And he let her.