Ice Blue (Ice 3)

She was, but that had nothing to do with it. “I’m not leaving my sister. I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe.”

“You’re going to do what I tell you to do.” He pulled up beside the metal shack and turned off the car.

“You’re going to have to kill me first.”

He sighed, and for half a second she was certain he was going to do exactly that. “Someone’s taking care of your sister,” he said finally.

“Who? The Shirosama? I don’t think so.”

“A colleague is getting her out. You don’t need to worry.”

“A colleague? A member of the Yakuza is going to waltz right in there and snatch her away?”

“You’re forgetting that the True Realization Fellowship started in Japan, and almost a third of its worldwide membership is Japanese. I don’t imagine a Yakuza would have any trouble fitting in.”

“Unless they saw his tattoos.”

“A good proportion of the brethren are criminals from one country or another. A Japanese criminal wouldn’t be surprising. Now stop arguing with me. You’re still alive, and so is your sister. She’ll be fine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before? I would have been less trouble.”

“You and trouble are synonymous,” he said wearily, unfastening his seatbelt. “Get out of the car, and if you try to run I’ll shoot you.”

“You don’t carry a gun.”

“Yes,” he said, “I do. And I have no problem using it.”

And she didn’t doubt him for one minute.

Jilly Lovitz was proving to be a particularly difficult disciple. She refused to drink the sacred water they brought to her, she was somehow able to shut her mind to the True Word as it was piped into the barren little room she was kept in. He had some of the most brilliant young scientists working for him, following his path. Chemists, explosives experts, doctors, engineers, along with the disaffected youth who’d made their lives on the streets. He’d offered them all a path to salvation, and they’d taken it gladly. And yet Jilly Lovitz resisted.

It was hard to believe she’d come from Lianne Lovitz, who had barely a brain in her pretty blond head. She was much more like her older half sister, Summer. Too smart, too cynical, too distrusting. That latter was no doubt due to the mother—Lianne would make a saint doubtful. And there were few real saints in the True Realization Fellowship.

The girl wouldn’t eat, either. She’d laughed when they’d brought her chocolate, something he’d been told was her particular weakness. In fact, he’d known very few women anywhere who could resist the siren lure of chocolate, but sixteen-year-old Jilly Lovitz was confounding him on many levels.

In the end it didn’t matter. She was in one of the induction cells, with his devoted followers watching her every move, and while anything was possible, he doubted that a woman like Summer Hawthorne would have endangered her baby sister by sharing her secrets. No, the girl was only a bargaining chip. As soon as the woman realized her sister was in jeopardy she would show up with the urn and all her secrets. All he had to do was wait.

Except that the Yakuza was now involved, and he wasn’t sure whether to rejoice or lament. Takashi O’Brien was the great nephew of Hiro Matsumoto—his connections were impressive, and who else would have sent him? It didn’t matter the Yakuza had the same goals as he did—Japan as a world power once more. The world power, in the new order of things. But the Yakuza were more likely to think of the profit the world could provide, while the Shirosama knew the only real future was to wipe it clean.

They were a concern, but a minor one. Summer Hawthorne had been chosen for a reason. Hana Hayashi would never have entrusted such a treasure to someone who couldn’t keep it secure, nor would she have shared her knowledge. It was a great tragedy that he hadn’t been able to make the old woman talk, a sin that he’d let anger overtake him and he’d ended her life before he found out what he needed to know.

He’d been much younger then, and only beginning to understand his destiny. It had been ordained since the beginning of time that he would run his aunt over with an automobile before he found the family treasure he was searching for. The treasure that would assure his ascendance and transfiguration.

But it hadn’t been his time. At that point he had only a few hundred followers, and his path wasn’t as clear to him as it was now.

No, all was unfolding as it was meant to be, and each new hurdle was simply to test his readiness for the coming storm. He would handle each obstacle as he faced it.

The girl had thrown her sacred water at Brother Kenno, a crime of such blasphemy that his holiness was only glad that it hadn’t been Brother Heinrich. But then, he’d kept Brother Heinrich far away from the girl. The Shirosama’s tools were varied and well honed, but one didn’t need to use an ax when a dagger would suffice. At this point there was nothing to be gained from having Jilly Lovitz undergo Heinrich’s inventive ministrations.

Perhaps she would be a reward to his faithful follower when all finally came together. Though in fact he’d promised him the older sister. While Heinrich might prefer the softer virgin flesh of the young one, his rage toward the older one would feed his pleasure.

The Shirosama shook his head. Heinrich was still so young, so driven by fleeting gratification that he was unready for the higher purpose in store for him.

But that would change. Events were coming together. The Shirosama could feel the winds of power swirling around his head, and he knew his time as a mortal was short.

The time and day most suited for the reunification ceremony were almost upon them. The True Realization Fellowship would retrieve the true urn. They would find where the ruins of the old temple were. Summer Hawthorne was the only living human being who had the information, passed on by his distrusting aunt, though she seemed not to know she had it.

He would help her remember, once he got the Yakuza off his back and the younger sister to break. And then all would unfold accordingly, and the end of the world would be set in motion. He would ascend, chaos would follow, and then nothing but blessed emptiness.