Ice Blue (Ice 3)

If it were up to her she’d give up. But she wasn’t going to let anything happen to her baby sister. He’d told her the Shirosama had Jilly, and yet he didn’t seem to be interested in doing anything about it.

She refused to look at him. When she did so she was filled with such a stomach-twisting anger she couldn’t think clearly, and she needed to be cool and self-controlled. Sometime later she could let go, right now she needed to be as deadly calm as he was.

“My sister,” she said, staring out the window.

“What about her?”

“Aren’t you going to do anything to help? You kept rescuing me—it’s what you’re good at.”

“My orders were to keep you out of the Shirosama’s hands. Your sister isn’t my job.”

Summer closed her eyes for a moment, picturing Jilly’s dear, stubborn face, and tried to think of a plan. They’d traded the SUV for the plain-looking sedan parked in the garage, but beneath its modest exterior it had the engine of a race car.

And Taka had a penchant for fast driving.

At least they weren’t on the freeway. They were on a lesser road, heading out toward the countryside. Were she to bail out, she might stand a chance—she didn’t give a damn whether he survived. She just needed to get away from him and go after her sister. Give the Shirosama what he wanted, in return for Jilly’s freedom.

Summer glanced around her surreptitiously, looking for any kind of weapon. Her bare hands were useless against Taka. Her only chance was taking him by surprise, and he wasn’t a man who surprised easily.

“Don’t.” His voice was flat, cool.

She refused to turn and look at him, keeping her eyes focused on the passing landscape. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t even think it. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll go with you.”

“The hell you will.”

He said nothing—he didn’t have to. He was like an eight hundred pound gorilla; he could do anything he wanted and there was nothing she could do about it.

And she would have accepted that, given up, if her sister’s safety wasn’t involved. Did he have a gun somewhere in the car? In the last two tumultuous days she realized she hadn’t seen him with one—he didn’t seem to need one when he killed. Her stomach twisted again at the thought. He hadn’t killed to protect her at all. He’d killed to protect the knowledge she held.

She wondered why he was bothering to keep her alive now that he knew where the urn was. Unless he very wisely didn’t trust her. She’d tricked him twice with the fakes. Maybe he wasn’t going to get rid of her until he was certain he had the real urn.

The one thing she couldn’t tell him was where it had come from. Hana had never said a word about its origins; if it had come from some mysterious hidden shrine in Japan that secret had died with her.

Summer glanced around her on the floor of the sedan. Nothing. Maybe if she suddenly slammed her elbow into his face she might distract him—except that he was taller and his face would be hard to reach, plus she was pinned down by the seat belt.

The only thing movable in the front seat of the car was his steel coffee mug and her empty Tab can. Neither would do much damage, but the coffee mug was larger and heavier. If she could just slam it into his face it might force him to take his eyes off the road and his foot off the accelerator, long enough for her to open the door and roll out, with less chance of being totally screwed.

The more she hesitated the worse it was going to get. She reached for the coffee mug, and his hand shot out. She wasn’t quite sure how he managed it, but he got both her wrists in his grasp, imprisoning her. It hurt. A lot. She remembered a few short hours ago, when he’d hurt her into telling him the truth…and what he’d done afterward.

“I told you, don’t even think about it,” he said. He hadn’t slowed his speed even the tiniest bit—they were going about eighty. Certain death.

“I just wanted some coffee.”

“You don’t like coffee.”

“Says who? Just because I drink soda in the morning doesn’t mean—”

“You had no coffee in your house.”

“You don’t know everything I had in my house.”

“Want to bet? I know everything, including where you stash your porn.”