Several seconds went by before she slowly raised her head and looked at him over her shoulder. "You, Ricco. I have something to show you." She pulled a paper folded into a small square from inside the pocket of the pin-striped suit she wore, indicating to everyone in their world that she was a rider.
His eyes on her face, he took the paper from her, unfolded it while still looking at her and then dropped his gaze to read the contents. The message was typed in a bold font: Kill Ricco Ferraro, a rider in the States, or your brother Ryuu dies. You have three weeks to complete this task.
"You haven't killed me." He made that a statement as well. There was the faintest humor in his voice, because, after all, it was pretty evident she hadn't. He was standing there. He'd known all along she was a rider and probably there to kill him, but not for the reasons he first thought. Still, he was just a little hurt and more than worried that she'd slip through his fingers.
"I am a shadow rider. I can't kill unless it is in the defense of my life, the lives of those unable to defend themselves or when I bring justice to those escaping the law. Killing you would go against everything I hold sacred. The very code my life is built on. You're too good a man. I can't trade one life for another."
He almost sagged with relief, and the part where she thought him a good man felt great, but then he realized he was sagging because he almost went down. Alarm spread across her delicate features. She stepped forward and circled his waist with her arm, fitting under his shoulder. He didn't pretend he was all right, because frankly, he was going to fall on his face if he didn't let her help him.
"You should have stayed in the hospital, Ricco," she murmured, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, leading him toward the master bedroom. "I can call Emilio and ask him to bring the car around."
"Not going to happen," he said. "It's just a fucking headache. The scan said I was fine. I still get the headaches and once in a while blurred vision. One of those bastards kicked me in the head." So much for impressing her. She'd had to come to his rescue. "Did I thank you for saving me tonight? For saving Nicoletta?"
"I don't need thanks." She sat him on the edge of his bed and bent to untie his shoelaces. "Who is Nicoletta? Where does she fit in?" She tugged his shoes off. "Get out of the jacket and shirt."
"Don't think you're going to get out of the contract you signed with me just because you're a shadow rider," he said decisively, pouring his bossy tone into his voice. He shrugged out of the jacket, flung his tie onto a chair and began to unbutton the shirt. "After we find your brother, I'll expect your full attention." He tossed the shirt aside and lay back, trying not to wince as his shoulder and back encountered the mattress.
"We? You're willing to help me find Ryuu?"
"You're mine, Mariko. The moment you said yes and signed that contract, you became mine. No one threatens you or your family." He closed his eyes. "We'll find him. My family specializes in that sort of thing."
"Roll over. I have to see your back. You're already black and blue around your ribs. Are you certain they aren't fractured?"
With a groan, he complied, turning onto his belly, making himself completely vulnerable to her. If she wanted to kill him, now was the perfect opportunity. Right at that moment, he wouldn't have cared.
"I took a couple of hits," he admitted. "But nothing's broken. My head's the worst." He didn't know why he admitted that to her. He never would have told Stefano or his other brothers. Maybe Emme, but she would probably have ratted him out to the others.
Mariko's hands were on his shoulders, light, barely there, a whisper of movement across his back, almost as though she brushed away the pain. There was no white heat, nothing to indicate she had any healing powers, but something eased in him--whether it was pain or just happiness that she didn't take advantage and kill him, he didn't know.
"You haven't said anything about my coming here to kill you."
"I suspected you were a rider and you were here for that purpose. I informed my family just in case you or other riders were after them as well. But I gave you several opportunities and you didn't take them." He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "You let me tie you up. You're a shadow rider. Control is everything. I can't imagine how difficult that was for you." He didn't try to keep the admiration from his voice. To him, that moment had been such a humbling gift. He would treasure her surrender for his entire life.
"I wouldn't allow any other to do such a thing, but for some reason I don't understand, I trust you. I don't expect to live through this, so I wanted, before my death, to experience my culture. Your art. And it was beautiful." The admission was made in a low tone.
He rolled over, suppressing a groan as his head felt like it had exploded. "Why do you think you aren't going to live through this?"
Her hands went to his bare chest, fingers following the long path of the blade that had left three distinct scars. "He has to kill me. Whoever has my brother would have no choice. I'm a rider. He knows I'm one, or why choose me? My home is in Japan. You're here. Still, he chose me. He would always be looking over his shoulder if he didn't kill me."
"And you have no idea who kidnapped your brother?"
She shook her head. "My brother is a genius." There was pride in her voice. "A software company in the United States offered him a job and to pay his way here and even help him find a place to live. He left very excited. I drove him to the airport myself. I received this message the next day."
"Was it mailed to you?" He couldn't sit up. His head was pounding beyond belief. Every movement sent more bile churning in his gut.
He wanted this woman more than he ever thought possible. Not just with his body, and there was that--an urgent, constant demand, no matter the circumstances--but with everything in him. He loved the way she moved. He could watch her all day. He found himself listening for her soft, musical voice. He'd just met her, yet he thought more about her, day and night, than he'd ever thought about the many women he'd been with throughout his lifetime.
Ricco realized he was in danger of falling hard for a woman capable of killing him. He especially loved that about her. She was soft inside, soft outside, but he knew she had a backbone of pure steel. She moved like the wind, or water flowing over rocks, a gentle breeze moving so quietly and softly most people might not even notice her, not until it was far too late.
"You're beautiful." He made it a statement because it was true.
She frowned, and he found that adorable. "Thank you. I want you to remember that you're suffering from a very severe head injury."
He couldn't help himself, he laughed. It hurt like hell, but amusement welled up out of nowhere, shocking him because it was genuine. He laughed with his family, but he never felt it.
"Why are you laughing at me?"
"Because you're adorable. I'm very glad I've tied you to me for the next six months. That gives me time to convince you to stay with me."
She sighed. "Ricco, you really have to go to the hospital. I can tell that you have a concussion."
"How is that?" It was true. He couldn't deny it. He knew he had a concussion. The doctor had said so. His head wouldn't stop pounding and if he didn't move his head, he could focus, otherwise his vision was impaired.
"Your way of thinking is really messed up right now and not at all like your normal way of thinking. You don't want a woman in your life for more than a night or two. It's a way of life for you, changing women the way other men change their shirts."
He winced because everything she said was the truth. Until now. Until she'd come into his life and turned it upside down. Until he knew the woman coming to kill him had to belong to him. He was born for her. To love her. To cherish her. To spend his life shielding her from men like the one who had taken her brother.
"Stefano told me my idiot way of living would come back to bite me." He hissed the last few words through clenched teeth. His head hurt like a son of a bitch. "You asked about Nicoletta." Changing the subject was the only safe path
.
"You and Vittorio were willing to die to save her. That was twice that you fought for her. Who is she?"
"She's a woman capable of producing riders. That's rare, as you well know."
She shrugged. "None of the riders I grew up with would have done that for me."
"That isn't true. They might not have shown any interest, but I can guarantee, they'll be very upset that I have you here with me." He waited for her to protest, but when she remained silent, he continued, this time musing aloud. "If it was another rider who took your brother, they would have come after me themselves. Why involve you? Or take the risk of kidnapping your brother? I saw you out there tonight. You're as good as a rider gets. Of course, coming from the Tanaka lineage, you would be."
Her head snapped up, her eyes moving over his face, probing for the truth. For the distinctive sound of a lie. "A Tanaka? Why would you think such a thing? That lineage is revered in my country. Everyone knows the tragedy."
"Do they? Tell me."
"Daiki Tanaka married a woman from another country and had one child, a girl, Akiko. She was on her way to being as great a rider as her father when she died in a car accident with her father and grandmother. Four other riders were killed as well. The accident nearly wiped out all the shadow riders in Tokyo. Everyone knows the story."
Every word she said made that horrible hole inside him bigger. It was filled with the helpless rage of a fourteen-year-old boy.
"You don't have it quite right, Mariko," he said softly. He forced himself into a sitting position and indicated she sit close. He was surprised when she obeyed him. His head protested the movement, but he ignored the crashing pain. This was far too important. She could very well leave him when she heard what he had to say, but he was through hiding the truth.
"I was there, Mariko, so I know the truth of what happened. All of it. I was training under Daiki Tanaka, Isamu Yamamoto, Dai Saito and Mikio Ito, the four top riders who also made up the council in Tokyo. At that time, Nao Yamamoto, son of Isamu, headed up a small-time gang. Nao was the leader and a bully. He despised the riders coming in from other countries, but more, he despised any female rider and considered them inferior to him and the other males." He fell silent, allowing the memory of that terrible night to sweep over him.
Mariko didn't say a word but remained quiet, not asking a single question or hurrying him. Her gaze didn't once leave his face.
"Akiko defeated Nao in a tournament. He was weakened because I had beaten the holy hell out of him earlier that day. He and three of his closest friends--Eiji and Hachiro Saito, sons of Dai Saito, and Kenta Ito--had jumped me earlier because I'd gone with two others to the council and warned them of Nao's behavior. Then my times beat theirs in the trials. I kicked their asses. Nao's father was furious with him, first that I had beat the crap out of him, but mostly because Akiko, a lowly female, bested him in the tournament in front of everyone. The judges had no choice but to call the win for her."
Mariko didn't take her eyes from his face. She almost didn't blink she was holding herself so still.
Ricco pressed his fingers to his eyes and shook his head. "I was fourteen. That's not much of an excuse. It isn't an excuse. I knew Nao would hit back at Akiko. I heard him boasting about using the shadows to hurt his enemies. It was forbidden, of course, but two of the riders had gone with me to the council to tell them of our suspicions earlier and they dismissed what we told them."
Her thigh slid along his as she drew her legs up and put her chin on top of her knees, her face turned toward him, eyes never leaving his face.
"I had a hojojutsu class that evening . . . " He trailed off again. Little did he know it would be his ropes that eventually saved him. His artistry. He sighed. This wasn't about him. Mariko needed to know she had a past. She was part of a legendary family, a family respected and held in the highest regard by all riders around the world.
"I got lost," he said, telling her his greatest shame. "In the tunnels. When I returned to my room, I realized all four of them were gone and I just knew they were going to attack Akiko. I went after them and I got turned around."
The throbbing in his head took a backseat to the knot twisting in his gut. "When I arrived at the Tanaka home, the boys had already done their worst. Chiharu, Akiko's grandmother, was dead, her body on the floor just outside of her room. Nao lay in wait for her and murdered her as she rushed to the aid of her grandchildren."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The scent of blood hit him hard. It smelled like a slaughterhouse. He knew before he even emerged from the shadow tube that he was far too late. He nearly fell over the body of Akiko's grandmother. Chiharu. She'd been a strict, unsmiling woman, but she'd also been the first legendary female shadow rider. Chiharu was the reason the other girls were given the chance to prove themselves.
She lay crumbled on the floor, looking small. Blood covered her like a bright red blanket. A sword had nearly severed her body in half. Worse, after the initial slice, she had clearly still been alive when another slice had been made up the front of her, spilling her insides onto the floor deliberately.
At fourteen, he'd never seen anything like it in his life. He was still sensitive, an artist, not a killer. Bile had risen, choking him. He heard laughter, and just around the screen, several feet from Chiharu, her two female servants were being hacked to pieces by Eiji and Hachiro. The insanity of the killings made Ricco pause for just a moment, not believing what his eyes were seeing. He'd trained with these boys. They weren't friends, and he knew they were bullies, but he'd never considered they might be murderers.
For the first time, he realized just what he was born for--what was expected of him--and it was brutal and ugly.
He heard Akiko scream and then Nao telling her he'd killed her grandmother and would kill her, and then her brother and sister. He'd wipe out the entire Tanaka family. But first, she would be dishonored. Nao had raped her while Kenta danced around them covered in her father's blood.
The memories were all there in Ricco's head, pouring through the cracks in the walls he'd erected to keep himself from letting them get too close. He'd been carrying the burden of that night alone for so long, protecting his family from the threat hanging over their heads until he was physically, emotionally and mentally used up.
"The Tanaka family only had one child. Akiko," Mariko insisted, her voice shaking. "There were no other children."
Ricco realized she was trembling. He reached out and took her hand, holding it tight, pressed against his chest over his heart. "There were three children, Mariko--two girls and one boy. Akiko was ten years older than her next sibling. Her sister. You, Mariko. You were three at the time of the murders."
She shook her head, blinking back tears. He couldn't imagine what her life had been like once her family was killed. With the way he'd been treated, he knew it couldn't have been good.
"Two servants lay just to the right of Chiharu, cut down by Eiji and Hachiro Saito."
Mariko made a sound of distress. He pulled her closer, sheltering her against his body.
"Osamu hates me with every breath she draws. If what you say is true, I understand so much more," she whispered. She shook her head. "It can't be true. The Tanaka family is a legend. They are spoken of with love and respect."
"What I say is true. I have no reason to lie to you. On the contrary. I don't come off in the best of lights. I came out of the shadows just as Eiji cut down the second servant. The two brothers came at me. I had no choice but to defend myself. I killed them both."
"Are you saying that Eiji and Hachiro murdered the Tanaka family?"
He pulled her into his arms and held her. She was shaken. Who wouldn't be? The official findings of the Tanaka family deaths were very different. She'd grown up believing exactly what the council members wanted her to believe. Those members were the fathers of the boys involved in the murders.
"They helped. Nao was the leader and he planned the entire thing. Eiji and Hachiro killed the servants an
d Kenta Ito murdered Daiki Tanaka, your father."
"How could mere boys defeat Daiki Tanaka?" she asked, but he could see she was beginning to believe everything he said.
"Daiki could no longer ride the shadows, and he'd stopped training. He had married an American, a rope model, your mother. When she left him, their shadows were torn apart and he could no longer ride. She couldn't remember she had a family. That's the price we pay as riders. We can't lightly go into a marriage. He wasn't expecting such an attack on his household. He heard Akiko, his beloved daughter, scream and he rushed to save her, just as they knew he would. Kenta lay in wait for him and cut him to pieces with a sword. Nao had already killed Chiharu Tanaka and then he attacked Akiko."
Ricco had heard Akiko's screams, the pain and agony in her voice, while he fought off Eiji and Hachiro. He'd managed to kill Eiji first, sliding in around behind him and breaking his neck. Hachiro had been so shocked that the tip of his sword had tilted toward the ground for that one split second. Ricco had struck hard, slamming the flat of his hand on top of Hachiro's sword hand, going in with three hard chops to the throat.
Hachiro staggered back and lost his footing and then slipped in all the blood on the floor. He went down hard, hitting his head against the ornate woodwork. That, Ricco was certain, was what saved his life. As he went after the other boy, Akiko's screams, more urgent than ever now, hurt his ears, his foot slipped in the blood and left a long trail as he nearly impaled himself on Hachiro's sword. The blade sliced across him, a deep, nasty wound that went across his entire chest.
Hachiro gasped and sliced a second time, this time dragging the tip across Ricco's chest a second and third time before Ricco could catch his wrist, wrench the sword to one side and slam it back with as much of his body weight as possible. Hachiro's eyes went wide and his mouth opened in a silent scream of protest. Of terror. Ricco couldn't look away, and to this day, he woke up staring into those eyes.
The sword had nearly sliced Hachiro in two, the sharp blade cutting through flesh and bone far easier than Ricco had expected. Ricco was swimming in blood. He was certain he'd never get it off his skin. Sometimes, at night, when he woke in a sweat, he'd get in the shower and scrub until he was bleeding. He still felt the thick substance coating his skin.
Shadow Reaper Page 14
