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Authors: Kristi Charish

Owl and the Japanese Circus (31 page)

BOOK: Owl and the Japanese Circus
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“Kind of sort of.” I flipped my laptop around to show her the images. “I need to do some cross-referencing, but I don’t think this set is part of the writing. I think it might be the codex. I need to run a search for similar images on the net.” I took a closer look. People, or some kind of animal, maybe dancing around a ring . . . or, for all I knew, it could have been a gathering of gods, or a hunt; ancient pictographs aren’t exactly known for precision. You’d be amazed how many are horribly misinterpreted. Those cave pictures in France, for example? They aren’t chasing the animals to eat them.

I’ll let you mull that one over.

I closed the laptop and finished off my Corona. “Regardless, it’ll have to wait until we reach Vegas. I need access to online archives, and I need some sleep. Maybe Mr. Kurosawa can even shed some light on what the hell he has us chasing after.”

Before I’d stepped on the plane, Oricho had left a message saying Mr. Kurosawa was reluctant to meet me. I’d called back, gotten his voice mail, and left a message. “
Oricho, Mr. Kurosawa can stuff his ‘reluctance.’ I don’t care if you have to move heaven and earth in the next twelve hours, get me that meeting
.”

A half hour later he’d sent me another message, this time saying he “. . .
perhaps had arranged an appointment with Mr. Kurosawa.

How the hell do you “perhaps” arrange an appointment?

Nadya glared at me. “Alix, please, I am begging you. Don’t mouth off to the dragon. Not while I’m there.”

“Depends,” I said, and settled back into one of the plush chairs.

Nadya glared. “Depends on what?”

I frowned. Where did they keep the blankets on private planes? In first class they always had them right by the seat. I started looking under the chair. “On how much I think he’s hiding. I’m getting sick and tired of vampires and other assorted supernatural creatures trying to off me on this job.”

“What about the inside person? The one who is feeding Marie information?” Nadya said.

I let out a low whistle. “My money is on Lady Siyu. I can’t prove it yet, but I think she’s the one who wants me dead.”

“Why would she risk betraying a dragon just to kill you?”

“Wait until you see her. She’s a real piece of work, hates humans—Come to think of it, that might be enough. Turning the device and me over to Marie could be a big ‘eff you’ to her boss for bringing a human onto this job. You don’t know these monsters like I do—count yourself lucky. They don’t think like us, and the ones who don’t think we’re food figure we ought to be indentured servants. And they’re petty; they spend more time fighting with each other than an ’80s rock band.”

Nadya shook her head. “I still think it’s far-fetched. Why not just wait until you finished your work for her boss and then poison you, or strangle you or something . . . what?” she said when I frowned. When I didn’t respond, she continued, “Just because they’re petty and think we’re insects doesn’t mean they’re incapable of logical thought.”

I shook my head. “I’ll have a better idea what’s going on after I speak with Mr. Kurosawa,” I said, and shut my eyes to try and get some sleep during the flight’s remaining three hours.

Just as soon as I’d started to drift off, Captain complained. I groaned.

“You couldn’t have asked earlier?” I said. He swished his tail and danced on his front paws. I pushed myself up and led him to the washroom.

“No rest for the wicked,” I said.

7:00 p.m., Vegas.

Oricho was waiting for us at the airport with a black limo.

“Hi, Oricho,” I said before tossing my bags in. “Did you get me my meeting?”

He frowned. “With some effort. Mr. Kurosawa and Lady Siyu were not happy with the demand.”

“Well, tough. If he wants this job finished, I need to speak with him, not you and Lady Siyu.”

“I related as much. Though I caution you to be careful in your treatment of this request. A dragon requests one’s presence; they are not accustomed to granting audiences.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” I said as Nadya, Captain, and I piled into the back. “I promise I’ll try to be careful.”

Nadya snorted and rolled her eyes. Well, I’d try my best. Whether I’d succeed or not was a different matter.

We headed through the Vegas strip to the Japanese Circus. Nadya and I didn’t say anything on the ride over, just watched all the pretty lights go by. I wondered how many supernatural entities lived here. Somehow I doubted it would hold much appeal for anything other than dragons or vampires, maybe a succubus or incubus. Most supernatural creatures like a sense of history, roots in civilization. Vegas is just a flood of lights and a hell of a lot of people partying.

Even Captain didn’t make a fuss on the ride over. Sometimes the universe says silence is the best course of action. When that happens, I try to listen.

It wasn’t until we passed the main entrance of the Japanese Circus that I perked up. We headed straight for the underground garage.

“Hey, Oricho, what’s going on?”

“Mr. Kurosawa has given explicit instructions for this meeting. We are to use a separate entrance.”

“Well, can we at least let Nadya off? She doesn’t need to be here.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible,” he said, all business. The glass partition slid up between us.


What’s going on?
” Nadya mouthed.

I shrugged. Shit. This wasn’t good. There was no reason she had to meet a dragon.

“Oricho?” I tried. But there was no response through the glass.

The car didn’t stop until we reached the fourth basement. The lights dimmed, and as hard as I tried to peer out the window, I couldn’t
make out a damn thing. That the doors were automatically locked didn’t escape my notice either. Captain gave a low growl.

“Yeah, I’m not much fond of this cloak-and-dagger crap either,” I told him.

“Reminds me of stories my parents used to tell me of the Russian Secret Service taking people away in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. Only they didn’t use limos,” Nadya said.

I bit my lower lip. Could we make a run for it? Not likely, and besides, Oricho didn’t seem to hate humans as much as most of the supernatural world did. At least he had a sense of fair play. We were also too far underground. Better to wait until we were in the casino to make a run for it if we had to . . . if we made it that far.

There were no parked cars on the fourth level. Oricho pulled up beside a black door embossed with the gold lotus designs I’d seen on the roof. The car door swung open. I crawled out first. Captain growled again and raised his hackles. I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying not to look as shaken as I was.

The door opened on its own into a wood-paneled hallway, complete with bamboo-paneled floors done in feudal Japanese style. Only the electric torches hinted at its modernity and lit the walls painted red with black lotus designs. Oricho stood aside and waved us through. I glanced over at his impassive face, and my temper spiked. Here I was, terrified we were going to be eaten by a dragon, and Oricho looked like this was just another day of work.

“I get the sinking feeling I’m being pushed into the thieves’ entrance of a dragon mousetrap,” I said as I passed him by.

He raised his tattooed eyebrow, the closest I think he came to surprise. “I give you my solemn word that is not Mr. Kurosawa’s intent. He feels it safest if no one knows you are here and wishes you to use this entrance.”

“Nadya doesn’t need to be here though.”

Oricho shook his head once. “He wishes to meet your business partner.”

I hesitated over the threshold.

Oricho added, “You have my word no unjust misfortune shall befall you or your companions.”

“That all depends on what your definition of
just
and
unjust
is,” I said. That was about as good as I figured I’d get from Oricho, and he didn’t strike me as one who gave his word lightly. Whereas humans could break their word whenever the hell they felt like it with no consequences, the supernatural—with the exception of vampires and a few other bottom feeders—were physically bound to their word. Think genies. I hoped Oricho was that kind.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, and stepped into the red hallway, Nadya and Captain close behind me.

My eyes started to adjust to the electric torches, and I did a double take. It was a tunnel more than a hallway, and it was covered with murals in sealed glass cases, all scenes of samurai. Old murals, if I was any judge, like feudal Japan. The colors were beautifully preserved, easily one hundred grand per case, maybe more, depending on whether it was a known artist or rare . . .

I caught Oricho studying me.

“This is my own private collection,” he said. “I had this entrance constructed when we relocated ten years ago. The paintings remind me of home—and more comforting times.”

“They’re beautiful. 1000 AD, I can’t place them though . . .” I stopped in my tracks as my eyes fell on the largest painting, a battle scene between an army and a red dragon. Amongst all the paintings, six in total displayed a supernatural element.

“You will not place them,” Oricho said, stepping beside me, running a hand across the glass case beside the dragon battle scene. A samurai fighting a green and gold naga . . .

“I made them myself. These,” he said, indicating the six supernatural paintings, “are originals. The others are reproductions of paintings burned in a fire outside Osaka more than one thousand years ago.” He motioned to a mural of two blindfolded samurai navigating a
dragon’s lair, the dragon clinging to the rocks above, waiting for them to pass. Both the samurai had half their faces covered in black tattoos. Just like Oricho’s. I swallowed hard and caught him studying my reaction.

“Six hundred years ago I led an army of samurai, loyal to the last, even into death. They had the honor of proving it the day a neighboring warlord challenged us to battle.” The corner of his lip curled up. “He met us on the battlefield at dawn and within the first hour had decimated half my army. Too late I realized my mistake in underestimating him. Thinking he was honorable, I offered my allegiance in return for sparing my samurai.” Oricho’s mouth tightened, and his green eyes flared red. “He agreed, but as it turns out, we had different definitions of
spared
. Every last one of my samurai was executed while I watched on my knees. He said it was an honor to serve him in death.”

“What was the warlord’s name?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Kurosawa. He needed another servant to guard his lair while he slept. I was the winning candidate,” Oricho said.

I’d assumed he was a voluntary employee . . . not an indentured servant. “Why did Mr. Kurosawa make you bring me through here?” I said.

Oricho inclined his head. “I believe he wishes you to see what happens to those who raise his ire.”


What
are you?” I said.

He turned his back on me and continued down the hallway.

I was shaken. I followed in silence for another fifty feet. The walls of glass-encased pictures stopped, and the hallway forked into two narrower red hallways. We kept to the right until we reached another doorway. Black lacquer with another gold lotus embossed on it. Oricho opened it this time.

Right back into the dragon’s private casino.

I grabbed Nadya’s arm as she started to step past me. “It’s Mr. Kurosawa’s lair, the one I told you about,” I whispered. She nodded and fell in step behind me.

I glanced over at Oricho. I was liking the look of this less with each step. “Don’t you guys have any better spaces for meetings? Like a boardroom or office?”

“This is Mr. Kurosawa’s preference. I have given you my word you will not be harmed. I do not give my word or protection lightly,” Oricho said, without a trace of deception on his face.

“Lead the way, and let’s get this over with so I can get back to work.”

Oricho led the way through the rows of flashing slot machines. Whereas before they’d been silent, now they clinked and chimed all over the room in a warped imitation of an electric orchestra. Nadya squeezed my wrist.

“Stay close and try not to look at the lights,” I said. “And whatever you do, don’t let Oricho out of your sight,” I said as Captain’s ears perked up and he began to creep towards one of the machines as it chimed jackpot and coins poured out. I picked him up and tucked him under my arm before he could reach any of the coins. “That goes double for you, mister.” Cold air brushed against my skin and sent a shiver up my spine. “I guess cats aren’t immune to dragon lairs either,” I said.

Oricho cleared his throat from the end of the row. “Perhaps you should put your animal in a carrier.”

“We’re good now. It won’t happen again.” It damn well wouldn’t with the grip I had on him. I slid the leash on for good measure. He mrowled in protest. “Well, if you’d stop running off, I wouldn’t need the leash, would I?”

“It’s eerie how the slot machines keep running without any players. I don’t like it,” Nadya said, keeping her voice low. “It smells wrong, cold, like dark winter.” She tsked and shook her head. “It’s hard to describe, but there is something off in the entire room.”

BOOK: Owl and the Japanese Circus
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