The Last Adventure of Constance Verity (26 page)

“If an assassination is too stealthy, then there's no proof it was actually done by an assassin. Unscrupulous people, the
kind that hire ninja assassins, will often try to use that as a loophole. Maybe the target died via flawless ninja execution. Maybe he just keeled over on his own. Why should anyone pay for an assassination that could've simply been a fortuitous accident?”

“I would think not paying ninjas would be a bad move,” said Tia.

“And you would be right. Many an employer wound up dead after failing to pay up, but ninjas are like everybody else doing a job. They want to get paid. The assassin variety stopped being so subtle, started using exotic poisons, daggers with clan logos carved in the handles, leaving little scraps of paper with fortune cookie sayings scrawled across them. Problem solved.”

“I thought fortune cookies were Chinese.”

“They're an American invention. And ninjas aren't strictly Japanese anymore. They're more inclusive. It's a requirement as part of a global economy.”

“Good for them. Though I didn't expect it to be so mercenary. I thought there were honor codes and ancient traditions.”

“There's that too, but ninjas have to eat, just like everyone else. Even the Pale Oni clan, though they do subsist on shadows and forsaken souls.”

“But if this ninja is so good, why did he save us?” asked Tia.

“He must have had a reason,” said Connie.

Hiro lived in a penthouse atop one of Hong Kong's most prestigious high-rises.

“Little ostentatious for a ninja, isn't it?” asked Tia upon seeing the building.

“He's an ostentatious kind of guy,” replied Connie.

Tia hadn't asked how Connie knew the address. Tia likely attributed it to Connie's skills as a detective, and she was happy to let that assumption continue.

The doorwoman wasn't surprised to see them. She opened the private elevator for them.

“Miss Verity, you've been expected. Go right on up.”

“Another trap?” wondered Thelma.

“Hiro doesn't do ambushes. He's the cut-and-run type.”

She tried not to sound bitter about that.

The elevator doors opened to Hiro's penthouse. The furnishings were impeccable, likely coming with the place. The personal touches were found in the collection of knickknacks and world treasures, a virtual bragging room for the world's greatest thief on display for his own ego. Most were worth a small fortune, except for those worth a large fortune. Tia examined an urn of South American origin.

“Lovely, isn't it?” said Hiro from the sofa, where no one had been sitting only moments before.

Tia jumped and jostled the urn. It tumbled off its glass pedestal. Connie caught it before it hit the floor.

“Nice reflexes.” Hiro was a beautiful man. To describe him otherwise would've been a waste of time. No adjectives could properly suit his charms, his jawline, his smoldering dark eyes, his trim, athletic grace that was obvious while merely sitting there.

Connie had forgotten how goddamn striking he was. She tingled in places she sure as hell didn't want to tingle, reminded of things they'd shared in the past. But she hid it.

God, she hoped she hid it.

Hiro smiled at her. “I picked that up for myself while acquiring the crown of Lloque Yupanqui for a client of mine. It's priceless.”

“Sorry, you just surprised me,” said Tia.

“Don't apologize.” Connie returned the urn to its pedestal. “Hiro has a tendency to surprise people.”

“It's a bad habit,” he said.

“Bad habit?” She laughed. “You get off on it.”

Hiro glided across the floor like a ghost. He didn't even leave footprints in the carpeting. “You know me too well.”

She did, and she sometimes hated herself for it.

“I know you don't get seen. You're invisible.”

He frowned. “Oh, I hate that. People call me invisible like it's a superpower I have. Do you know how much easier my life would be if I could actually become invisible? Although it would take all the fun out of it. It also grossly underestimates all the hard work I put into my trade. A talent, fostered by years of training and skill.”

“I get it, Hiro. Either way, you're the best.”

“I am indeed. Considering my reputation, you can understand how much I was hoping to see you again.” He put a hand on her cheek. “You were always the one that got away.”

“Wait. You two were a thing?” asked Tia.

“You could say that.”

Connie pulled his hand away. “Knock it off, Hiro. I didn't come all this way to fall victim to your charms.”

“You always were resistant to them. It is perhaps why I've always been drawn to you. I've known more beautiful woman, more accomplished, wealthier, smarter—”

“Stop. You'll make me blush.”

“But you, Connie, were the one that I almost considered permanently partnering up with.”

“But then you decided you'd rather take the crown jewels for yourself and leave me dangling over a crocodile pit.”

Hiro winced. “Mistakes were made.”

“You're that guy?” asked Tia. “This is the guy that did that to you? Wow, she was really pissed about that. For like a year.”

Connie grunted.

“Oh, I mean, not a big deal,” said Tia.

“I'd forgive him,” said Thelma from Connie's pocket.

“So I was hoping,” he said. “But if you've come for revenge, I submit myself to whatever you have in mind to demonstrate my remorse.”

“Your remorse isn't necessary,” said Connie. “I've moved on. I'm seeing someone.”

“Oh, I hope it isn't too serious.”

“It's serious,” she replied. “Serious enough.”

He didn't say anything. It was his deadliest manipulation. He could look at her, saying nothing, compelling her to fill the silence.

“Two dates,” she said. “Sort-of dates. But really good ones. He's a good guy. Not the kind of guy to betray me when a better offer comes along.”

“Two sort-of dates.” He swept her in his arms. “How do you know? I have at least gotten the betrayal out of the way. Several betrayals, in fact. I've learned my lesson. I'd be a fool to throw you aside again.”

Connie pivoted, and Hiro went tumbling to the floor. He flipped with impossible grace to land on his feet. He didn't even spill his drink.

“That's the fire I always adored,” he said with a smile.

“We are not getting back together. I'm here on business. Why did they want me to see you?”

“Who?”

“Don't play dumb. Your employers, the people who paid you to steal the destiny.”

“They didn't.”

“You weren't supposed to be seen?”

“I'm never supposed to be seen,” he said. “That's why people hire me.”

“You really did do it just so I'd track you down?”

He nodded. “I thought I'd made that clear.”

“It's kind of sweet,” said Tia.

“Tell me how sweet you think it is after you've nearly been eaten by a crocodile,” said Connie. “I hope you didn't make a mistake, Hiro. The people you're working for don't screw around, and if they find out, they could consider you a loose end.”

“Hmm.” He sipped his martini. “That would explain the ninja lurking just outside the window.”

“Ninjas? Where?” Tia studied the view. They were several dozen floors up, and the climb up the sheer building face would've been impossible.

“Don't bother looking,” said Hiro. “She's almost as good as me. Not quite, but then again, who is? Do you really think she's been sent to silence me?”

He sat in his sofa, twirled his drink, looking for all the world that he was commenting on something happening in a far-off place.

“How many are there?” asked Connie.

“Just the one.”

“Shit.” Multiple ninjas she could handle. But one was always trouble.

“Get away from the window,” she told Tia. “Stay in that corner over there.” Connie pointed to the sword over the fireplace. “Is this real?”

“Of course. Stole it myself. Legend says it was the sword given to the Emperor by the Ruler of Heaven to banish the evil Oni King.”

She took down the sword and checked the quality of the blade. The katana hissed like a snake as she drew it from the sheath. “Any idea of her clan?”

Connie tested its balance, performed a few practice swings. She was rusty. For a while, she'd been one of the deadliest swordswomen alive, but the problem with having so many
skills was that it was difficult to stay focused on all of them. She could still beat most anyone in a duel, and she had little doubt she could defeat an entire army of ninjas with a good sword and one arm tied behind her back.

But one ninja. Ninjas didn't screw around when they sent out one.

“Any idea of her clan?” she asked.

“Red Shadows, I believe.” Hiro put his drink to his lips and ogled her. “You always did know how to handle a sword.”

She rolled her eyes. She'd never been an easy victim to his charms, but now she saw him as vaguely creepy and a master of tactless innuendo. He was handsome as hell, living a life of intrigue, but he was also a self-centered, adrenaline-fueled jerk.

“Was I really that stupid and shallow, or have you gotten smarmier?” She tossed him the second sword hanging over the fireplace.

He caught it with a raised eyebrow and a coy grin. “I'm told smarm is part of what people love about me.” He put the weapon on the coffee table. “You know I was never very good with violence.”

“But you're a ninja,” said Tia.

“Ninja-slash-thief,” he replied. “Not ninja-slash-assassin. Similar basic training, but entirely different specializations. I don't fight my way out of trouble. I disappear.”

“That's probably why they sent a ninja-slash-assassin to keep you from doing that,” said Connie.

“Probably. It's a fortunate thing you're here, then.”

“Yeah. Fortunate.” Connie twirled her sword. “You might even say the nick of time.”

A window shattered, and a crimson blur leapt into the room. Her arm swung out, hurling a dagger at Hiro. The blade punctured the chair where he'd been sitting only seconds before.

He stood behind Connie now. “Hey, that's genuine leather.”

“Wow. He is good,” said Tia.

The Shadow assassin, cloaked in a red outfit (said to be stained with the blood of demons), stood motionless. Her hand rested on her sword, undrawn. A mask like an ogre's face hid everything but her eyes and short black hair.

Hiro threw several darts at the ninja. She sidestepped, dodging most and deflecting one with her sword. The move was so fast, it was almost impossible to see the blade had ever left its scabbard.

“That usually works.” He crouched behind Connie. “If you want me, you'll have to go through her.”

The Shadow said nothing, but Connie could see the disbelief in the assassin's eyes. It asked why Connie would consider sacrificing her life to protect a thief and a scoundrel, and she didn't have a good answer for that. It'd serve Hiro right. He'd never outright tried to kill her, but he'd left her in the lurch often enough.

But this wasn't about her baggage or revenge, as sweet as it might be.

“Oh, all right. Yes, I'm afraid that's true.”

She adopted the proper stance and nodded at the assassin.

The assassin drew her sword and bowed to Connie.

“Oh, cool,” said Thelma. “Ninja fight.”

The Shadow sprang over the sofa. Connie moved to meet her. Their blades clashed once, twice. The blades sang like bells of death. A third strike was muffled by the loser getting stabbed through the heart. The assassin died without making a sound, falling in a heap on the floor.

The sofa, coffee table, a lamp, and a case of Fabergé eggs all fell apart, victims of the dance of blades that had been so fast as to be unseen.

“My eggs,” said Hiro.

“Your arm,” said Tia.

“Yes, your arm as well.” He knelt beside the broken bejeweled eggs. “I really liked these.”

Connie had taken a glancing wound, though one that could have easily taken off her arm. Blood spread across her torn sleeve. She hadn't felt the strike. She checked herself for any other wounds she might have. It wasn't impossible that the ninja had killed her and she hadn't realized it yet. A skilled-enough ninja assassin could master the art of the invisible wound, undetectable until it did in the target. It wasn't a technique of much use for the necessary high visibility of ninja assassins for hire, but it wasn't impossible that Connie's head might fall off in her sleep tonight.

“That's it?” asked Thelma. “Three hits? Where was all
the flipping? The jumping? The back-and-forth struggle?”

“I have to agree that's disappointing,” said Tia.

“Ninjas assassins don't screw around,” said Connie. “It's not about putting on a show. It's about kill or be killed.”