Page 33 of Shadow Reaper


  "Dai, give me the gun and let's call the council," Stefano said.

  Dai slowly lowered himself to the floor, his grip on the gun never wavering. He pulled Osamu's body into his lap and began to rock back and forth as if he could comfort her. "Isamu was my brother-in-law, Osamu's brother. She worshiped him, and no matter what I said about allowing the boys to be with Nao, she wanted to please her brother. I knew better, but I couldn't bear to see Osamu unhappy."

  "Dai." Stefano moved closer. "Give me the gun."

  Dai shook his head. "Leave us, Stefano. Take Mariko and go." His watery eyes lifted to Mariko's face. "You are a Tanaka. A rider of the first quality. I gave you and Ryuu to Osamu hoping it would give her something to love. Instead she was cruel to you. Even then I couldn't step in and take you from her because she didn't have any other outlet. In the end, I failed everyone, but most of all, myself."

  "Dai, give Stefano the gun," Mariko pleaded, without much hope.

  "Go, my dear. Leave us now."

  "Do you know where Ryuu is?"

  Dai shook his head. "Regrettably, I hid out in the country when Osamu would get too bad. I do know that whatever conspiracy she came up with, she wasn't alone. I don't know who was helping her, but when I was here, she spoke often in whispers to someone on the phone. Now please go and leave us in peace."

  Ricco reached for her hand, threaded his fingers through hers and tugged until she was under his shoulder. He turned her away from the only father she'd ever known. She stumbled once but kept walking with him, Stefano behind her. The gun sounded overly loud in the house, like a boom of thunder, hurting her ears. Even expecting it, she cried out, wincing. Ricco kept walking, his arm tight around her.

  She didn't understand. Osamu was totally insane, and yet Dai had loved her all those years. Clearly there had been something between Osamu and Daiki Tanaka at some point, and Osamu resented Mariko's mother because she'd somehow stolen Daiki from her. Why wasn't Osamu happy with the man she was with, the one showing her so much love and understanding over the years they were together?

  "We have to get into the shadows as we leave," Ricco whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "No one can see us. We can't hide the plane, but Stefano has business in Tokyo and it will just look as if he came here for that."

  Mariko nodded, still too numb to think clearly. Dai had shot his wife and then taken his own life. Osamu had refused to tell them where Ryuu was. She acted as if it were hysterically funny that they were looking for Ryuu and she had hidden him so well with his kidnappers that no one would ever get to him before it was too late. Mariko pressed a hand hard over her pounding heart. She had to slow her breathing before she stepped into the shadow. She was a rider. She had to pull it together.

  "Mariko." Ricco stopped just inside the door, turning to her, lifting her chin with gentle fingers, his body blocking Stefano from seeing the tears burning her eyes.

  It was his gentleness that undid her, the tender look on his face. She didn't know what to do with love. She'd never had it, had never known that the feeling could be so overwhelming.

  "We'll find him," Ricco assured. "The investigators are looking for him as well. We'll get it out of Nao."

  She nodded because she knew he meant it. She was losing hope, but she had to cling to her belief in him. He had a way about him that shouted confidence. He didn't seem to think Ryuu was dead. His palm curled around the nape of her neck the way his ropes curled around her body when he tied her--the way his arms felt when he held her. Solid. Safe. Connecting them.

  His forehead touched hers. His breath was warm against her lips. He kissed his way up to her left eye, his tongue taking the few tears that had managed to trickle down her cheek. He left a trail of kisses from her right eye down to her mouth, sipping away the tears.

  "We have to go, Ricco." Stefano's voice held an urgent note as well as a compassionate one.

  "I'm going to get you through this," Ricco promised, not turning or acknowledging his brother's warning.

  Still, she knew he heard. He just wasn't going to rush her before she was ready. "They were the only parents I ever knew. Dai was kind at times and indifferent at others. She sometimes accused me of flirting with him. That started when I was around ten, so we were careful to never be alone. He became mostly indifferent after that."

  She took a deep breath. His palm curling around the nape of her neck, his thumb sliding along her cheek in a small caress, his breath, warm and as steady as the beat of his heart, gave her a sense of calm. She squared her shoulders. "I'm ready."

  "You're my woman, Mariko. I know I was born to be with you. To love you. When things are bad, you have me." Ricco lifted her left hand to his mouth, kissing the ring on her finger. "You have my family. You aren't alone, amore."

  She nodded, although she didn't know why. She had no understanding of anything anymore. She was terrified for her brother, and even at the last, when Osamu had the chance to be a mother to both Ryuu and her, the woman had chosen not to. She would rather sacrifice Ryuu's life than do one decent thing for Mariko.

  Ricco jerked his chin toward the door. Stefano had been watching the shadows as the lights around the houses threw patterns on stairs, landscape and into the streets. He opened the door and was instantly swallowed by a shadow. Ricco stepped back to allow Mariko to precede him. She did without hesitation. At once the shadow pulled her apart, hurtling her after Stefano.

  For the first time, the tube felt comforting despite the terrible pressure on her body. It was familiar to her. The strange feeling of being pulled apart. The weird spinning sensation as if the tube were a giant wave that rolled over her and was about to collapse on her head. She had ridden the shadows from the time she was two years old. It felt like more of a home to her than the house she'd grown up in.

  In the privacy of the tube, she could admit that she was devastated, that Osamu's betrayal of Ryuu was so unexpected and heartbreaking she could barely comprehend it. She had always believed that Osamu cared about Ryuu. Maybe she didn't love him as a normal mother loved her children, but she'd raised him from the time he was a toddler. He had continued to live with Osamu until just a couple of years earlier.

  She followed Stefano's lead, switching from shadow to shadow until they were back at the airport. Franco was waiting, the door of the plane open, the lights providing the necessary shadows to slide up the stairs right into the privacy of the interior. As soon as Ricco was safely inside, Franco spoke into his cell and a car made its way to the plane.

  Stefano immediately turned to Mariko, touching her cheek gently. "I've got to get to this meeting. You stay out of sight. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  She knew his meeting was their cover, the reason the Ferraro jet was in Tokyo. She nodded.

  "I'm sorry, Mariko. There was nothing we could do to prevent that. Osamu clearly was out of her mind."

  "Dai couldn't take it anymore," she murmured.

  "You know it was more than that," Stefano said gently. "The International Council was investigating their crimes. Dai knew they'd be found guilty, and he didn't want to face the lies they'd told their friends and family. He was a proud man, but a weak one. He allowed the Tanaka name to be taken from you and your brother. He allowed you to be treated badly in his home. Don't mourn Dai or Osamu Saito. Neither deserve your tears or sorrow. Justice was coming for them, and Dai took the easy way out." He swept her into his arms for a brief hug and then stepped out into the open, as if leaving the plane for the first time.

  Ricco wrapped his arms around her and walked her deeper into the luxurious interior. "He's trying to say you have a family, Mariko. We love you and we'll help you find Ryuu."

  "Do you think he's alive?" She couldn't help but ask, even though she wasn't certain she wanted to hear the answer.

  "He's alive," he assured.

  Her gaze jumped to his face. It was, as usual, impossible to read. Something in his tone sent goose bumps swarming over her flesh and she rubbed her arms. Ricco could be
very intimidating when he chose.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "I wondered how the hell they were able to know where we all were," Taviano said. "Which shop Emme was in. Where Nicoletta was. Even Phillip's mistress. How did our enemies keep tabs on us without our knowledge?"

  Stefano's apartment was once again the gathering place for all of Ricco's siblings. The penthouse smelled delicious. Francesca and Taviano had whipped up a dinner after a brutal training session in Stefano's very large training hall. It was the first time Mariko had ever trained with them, yet they didn't go light on her. She was happy they respected her enough after watching her work out to treat her as a real opponent. She didn't do that badly against them, either.

  Only Stefano, Ricco and Taviano could spar with her, and Stefano watched over Ricco like a hawk. Emmanuelle was still wearing the immobilizer and sling to keep from moving her shoulder. Vittorio was out of the hospital. He watched the sparring matches but was still forbidden to fight one of his brothers or sister. He worked out a little on the mat, but mostly it was stretching. Giovanni's femur had been broken and needed extensive surgery. He had rods and pins in his leg. It was kept immobile by a long brace. Recovery was a minimum of four months, but more likely six. It was imperative that all metal be removed if he was going to ride again. He was there, pale and hurting, but he didn't complain.

  "Did you figure it out?" Stefano asked as he reached for the basket of warm sourdough bread smothered in butter and garlic salt. "And what's with their fixation on Nicoletta? Have you figured that out?"

  Giovanni reached for the pasta, couldn't quite make it, so Mariko added the pasta to his plate. She added two pieces of the garlic bread and a very large helping of salad before serving herself.

  "Thanks, mia sorellina. I appreciate you feeding me." He glared at his brothers.

  Vittorio shrugged. "I'm kind of liking you not being able to reach the table properly, Gee. More food for me and I don't even have to work at it. He's not going to starve without a few meals, Mariko."

  "Vittorio," Francesca protested. "That's so mean."

  "He's kicking me while I'm down," Giovanni pointed out, clearly looking for sympathy and an ally from Francesca.

  "Vittorio." Francesca sent him a stern look. The Ferraros burst out laughing. Mariko had to smile as well. Francesca didn't look nearly as stern as she tried. She looked sweet, much like Lucia. She could see why the family regarded her as their center with Stefano and were protective over her. She felt a little protective toward her as well.

  Stefano passed his plate to his wife and she put a healthy helping of pasta on it. "Taviano. What did you find?"

  "Cameras. All over the village. At Eloisa's house. In the hotel lobby and positioned across the street recording all entrances. Once I realized we virtually had our own reality show, I checked everyone's homes. Cameras were positioned across the streets, and sometimes in the garages." He took a bite of the pasta, chewed, swallowed and continued. "The cameras were installed some time ago. Long enough that there's signs of rust on the mounting bolts. Whoever he is, he's damn good with surveillance. Knows what he's doing." He took another bite of pasta and chewed, then waved his fork at them. "I'd guess whoever put those cameras up also fucked up Ricco's car."

  Mariko stole a quick glance at Ricco. He was sitting close to her, close enough that their thighs were touching. He did that a lot the last couple of days. They'd returned from Japan and he'd stayed close to her, very protective. She had nightmares and he was always there, holding her close, telling her everything was going to be all right and she wasn't alone.

  She was terrified she was going to lose Ryuu. He was all the family she had left. It had hurt to discover just how much Osamu hated her. Dai knew, he knew exactly how Osamu had treated her, and he hadn't stepped in. Mariko had been a child. She'd been three years old when her family had been massacred. Now . . . She fought back panic. She couldn't lose Ryuu.

  Ricco shifted in his chair, his palm curling around the nape of her neck. She blinked, looked around and discovered the entire family was watching her. All of them. Compassion on their faces.

  "We're with you, Mariko," Emmanuelle said. "All the way. We're with you. You're Ricco's, but you're ours as well."

  She flashed a smile, but it hurt even to curve her mouth when she wanted desperately to cry. They had one another. They always had. No matter how bad it got for them, they had a circle of absolute love and loyalty. She'd never even known it. It was a struggle to believe it was real, and they were extending that love of family to her. She wasn't certain she could make herself believe she was worthy of it when she'd been told so often she wasn't.

  Ricco's finger slid down her nape, steadying her. Connecting her. She didn't know why it worked, but it did. The moment she felt that small caress, she felt strong again. Complete. Not because she was with him but because he had somehow managed, through his rope art, to empower her as a woman and a human being. He was offering her his life. More than once he'd made himself vulnerable to her. She had to hold that to her. Remind herself every time she felt uncertain that Ricco felt she was worthy. His family felt that way. She had to come to that realization, and Shibari had started her along that path.

  "I try not to think about Ryuu and what he must be going through. Osamu had him so conflicted, he probably thinks I'm not looking for him."

  "Everyone is looking," Stefano said gently. "The International Council and every rider we have. We're all trying to pick up the trail."

  Yet no one had. That was what was so disturbing. She forked pasta and put it in her mouth, although it tasted like cardboard to her. The shock of seeing Dai shoot his wife and then knowing he killed himself . . .

  "We didn't actually see Dai's body," she said, turning her head to look at Ricco. "What if he didn't kill himself and just wanted us to think he had. He's smart. He could be behind this."

  Ricco's fingers tightened around her neck. He shook his head. "The police came and found them. The bodies were taken to the morgue and members of the Japanese council as well as the International Council viewed them. They died when we were present."

  Emmanuelle frowned. "What does that mean? They suspected you of killing them?"

  Stefano held up his hand when his siblings protested loudly. Mariko's heart thudded wildly. She could very well get the entire Ferraro family in trouble with the council.

  "Farfallina mia." Ricco leaned into her, his lips brushing her ear. "They were always after me. You were sucked into my mess. Just the fact that Taviano could tell the cameras had been up for a long while means they were planning this for a good amount of time."

  "Either I'm losing my poker face, or you can read my mind," she objected.

  "You never actually had a poker face," Ricco said, "but that blow to my head gave me psychic ability. I can read your mind."

  "What exactly is it saying right this minute?" she asked, trying not to laugh. He could always make her laugh, even in the worst of circumstances.

  "Even I can read that message," Giovanni said. "He'd better eat the pasta if he wants to keep what's left of his head."

  "That would be correct," she agreed.

  The siblings erupted in another round of laughter. This time, she joined them, feeling a part of them. They had a way of wrapping one another up, just like Ricco's ropes, snug, laying the line perfectly to keep one safe.

  "Cameras can be traced," Vittorio pointed out when they all sobered. "Pass the garlic bread, please, Giovanni. Stop eating it all. You're going to get fat sitting on your ass and eating Francesca's fine cooking."

  "Vittorio." Francesca tried another severe look.

  "I'm helping him. Good advice, you know. He can't work out for a while, which means watching the calories. Garlic bread"--he nabbed three pieces--"is high in calories."

  "You're not exactly working out right now." Giovanni managed to snag one of the pieces of bread off his brother's plate. "If you call that stretching crap work, I'm going to call you a girl."


  Emmanuelle's head shot up. She scowled at her brother. "What does that mean? I'm a girl. Are you saying I'm not badass because I'm female?"

  Vittorio grinned at his brother. Giovanni flipped him off and then smiled lovingly at his sister. "No one would dare say you're not a badass, bella."

  "Hmm," Taviano mused. "I do believe the prince, Val Saldi, might have something to say about that. He was sure hovering over her, acting like she didn't know how to shoot a gun and he'd have to teach her."

  Emmanuelle's face flushed and she opened her mouth to retaliate, glaring at her brothers as they all burst out laughing.

  "Taviano." Francesca used a warning voice before Emmanuelle could say a word. "If you want to keep eating, you are going to get off that subject right this minute and leave Emme alone. She has enough to contend with without you constantly teasing her about Val Saldi. She can't help who crushes on her."

  "It isn't like that," Emmanuelle muttered. "He can't say a nice word."

  "Maybe not," Stefano said, "but, obnoxious or not, son of our enemy, he saved your ass when it was needed and for that, I'll tolerate him."

  "We're all here," Ricco said, looking around. "Who's on Nicoletta? I swear that girl is going to take off if you don't talk to her, Stefano. She's worried about Lucia and Amo, and with three attacks with both present, I'd say she has reason to worry."

  "Enrica pulled guard duty tonight," Vittorio said. "What's the word on Tomas and Cosimo? I called yesterday and Cosimo was back home and already doing his PT. Tomas wasn't given the go-ahead yet."

  Stefano sighed. "Like Giovanni, they're both acting like they can jump right back to work. I told Emilio absolutely not until the doctors clear them and they've had several months of training. I told them to go to counselors as well." He flashed a grin at his brothers. "That was Francesca's suggestion, and a good one."

  Immediately, all smiles were gone and the brothers nodded their heads, looking solemn. Francesca looked around the table and then to Mariko. "What? They almost died. They want to be bodyguards again and they should at least have someone to talk to about it. Don't you think that's a good idea?" Before Mariko could answer she turned to Stefano.

  Instantly he reached for her hand. "We're teasing you, baby. Tomas and Cosimo are throwbacks to the caveman days. Asking them to go to counseling is worse than anything you can imagine, but you're absolutely right, and I told them they had to go. Tomas is rebelling. Cosimo agreed to make an appointment with the counselor I suggested. She's going to be renting the small studio over Biagi's and using the office next to it. She's French. Young. Her name is Oceane Brisbois, moving in next month. Our one and only counselor is retiring. That should give Cosimo and Tomas time to come to terms with the idea. She was thoroughly investigated before we allowed her in."