Fire and Ice (Ice 5)

Reno drove fast, as he always did. If the police stopped him, it might be the best thing—they’d take both of them into custody and no stray mercenary would be able to get within a hundred feet of them. Of course, that would mean his grandfather would have to pull a few strings to get them out, but that would be child’s play to a man like his grandfather.

Unless, of course, he delegated the job to whoever had ratted them out.

No, maybe the police weren’t the answer. He hated to admit weakness, but he was tired and hungry, and more than anything, he needed a few hours of sleep before he could figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

Heading back toward Tokyo was a no-brainer—whether or not he was going to stop or keep on straight to Osaka remained to be seen. He’d

need to ditch the delivery truck and find something with a little more power. He could buy something, but that would leave a paper trail, and right now he and Jilly needed to disappear. Ojiisan was going to have to make a lot of amends by the time Reno was ready to head back to England.

If he was going back. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that if he’d stayed in Japan his grandfather wouldn’t be nurturing a traitor in his midst. Not that the old man had gotten weak. He’d be a powerhouse until he died, but lately he’d been passing on a lot of his power to his subordinates. The business had changed, he’d told Reno. Where there’d once been a code of honor, now there were just hoodlums and drug dealers. Ojiisan had always steered clear of the drug trade. He’d made a good enough living from the more respectable business of gambling and protection. He dabbled in counterfeit designer goods, as well, but never enough to disturb the police, who turned a politely blind eye to him and his business.

But the heads of Yakuza families didn’t retire. The oyabun retained their power until they died, and were mourned by their kobun, their loyal soldiers. But one of his grandfather’s soldiers wasn’t so loyal, and that could spread among the younger men who wanted the kind of money drugs and weapons could bring in. Grandfather was right—there was no honor left.

He glanced over at her. She was staring out into the darkness, and in the darkness he couldn’t see her clearly. It didn’t matter—what she was thinking made no difference to him. His way was clear. In the meantime he was going to have to resort to drastic measures. And he didn’t think his unwilling hostage was going to like it one tiny bit.

She was doing her best to ignore him as he sped through the night, but when he pulled out his cell phone and started pushing buttons, she almost shrieked.

“Is that legal? To talk on the phone while you drive?” she demanded, clutching the seat.

He glanced over at her. “I’m driving a stolen car, Ji-chan. I think the cell phone is the least of my worries.” And he began speaking into the phone in rapid Japanese.

Jilly wasn’t sure what was more horrifying, the way he was driving, or what he was saying. The driving would kill her more quickly, probably in the next couple of minutes, so she decided not to argue with him while he was still on the phone. She waited until he’d snapped it closed and shoved it back into his pocket before speaking.

“I’m dead?”

He jerked, startled, and stared at her. “You speak Japanese?” He made it sound as if she were a child molester.

“A little. You told whoever you were talking to that I was dead. That I’d died when my car went over the side of the mountain.”

“Shit,” he said, clearly annoyed. “And that was my grandfather. He’s not happy that I failed to protect a member of the family. Which you are, by default, whether I like it or not. And you don’t want to mess with my grandfather when he’s not happy.”

“You don’t trust your grandfather with the truth? Unless, of course, that was the truth, just a bit premature, and you’re planning to kill me.”

“I’m tempted, just to shut you up, but Taka wouldn’t like it, and disposing of your body would be a pain,” he said.

“Are you sure? I thought you said your grandfather’s men would wipe out all trace of your earlier bloodbath in Taka and Summer’s house. Disposing of one small American shouldn’t be that much of a challenge.”

“Small?” he echoed derisively. “You’re as tall as I am. And yes, they could dump you. But I have absolutely no interest in killing you. That’s more Taka’s style. I just want to get rid of you. Unless of course, you’d rather I strangle you. You could probably talk me into it.”

“You can strangle me if you want, as long as you feed me first. At this point food is more important than a long life.”

“Hold on.” Those weren’t words to inspire her with confidence, and his previously dangerous speed suddenly became suicidal as he bobbed and darted between the heavy traffic, narrowly missing pedestrians and cyclists as he clipped a curb and ran right over another.

“Where are we?” Jilly lifted her head to peer out into the neon-bright night.

Reno didn’t answer, of course. Why should she have expected him to? She’d spent the past two days asking him questions that he’d ignored. Why should it be any different? “If you don’t answer me, I’ll stab you with a chopstick again,” she warned him.

He glanced at her. “You don’t have any.”

“Point taken. I’m starving. Find me chopsticks and food to go with them and tell me what the plan is.”

“We’re going to a love hotel.”

“Right,” she drawled. “Right after hell freezes over.”

“Don’t jump to any conclusions. They’re anonymous—they have them all over Tokyo. You check in by machine—no witnesses. You’ll like it—there are theme rooms. Pirates and samurai and slave girls. Just the kind of fantasy young women like.”

“I have no deep-seated fantasy to be a slave girl,” she snapped. “And I hate to tell you, but you’re no Johnny Depp.”