Samurai Game
Page 28

 Christine Feehan

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Sam understood what Ian was doing: giving Ryland time to assimilate the danger to his son and come to terms with it. He deliberately drew attention away from their leader.
“Many times, as a matter of fact,” Azami said, willing to sacrifice herself so that Ryland could take a moment to recover and hold his child close. “I tweaked your chin once.”
Ian rubbed his chin, glaring at her. “You did. I felt it. A draft hit me and it felt like someone pulled a hair from my chin.”
“It was red and I couldn’t resist. You really need to shave,” Azami pointed out. “What’s with that little red fuzz on your chin anyway? Is it some sort of statement I don’t understand?”
“Statement?” Ian flared, stroking the tiny little red vee on his chin. “This is manly, woman. Don’t you know that?”
Azami gave a slight bow, lowering her lashes and chin demurely, but not before Sam caught the sparkle in her eyes. “Forgive me, Ian, I did not know a man of your stature needed fuzz to be manly. I can only plead ignorance of this custom.”
The men snickered and nudged Ian, Tucker reaching out to touch the red fuzz. Ian punched his arm away.
“Tucker,” Ryland said, his voice once more commanding. “Take Daniel to his mother. Make certain she understands the danger. We’ll figure out how best to help my son comprehend the danger he’s facing. Please give her that reassurance.” Stay with her at all times. Be ready. If Azami can slip past our guards, it’s possible her brothers can as well. He added the command telepathically, uncaring if his guest felt the surge of energy accompanying the psychic gift. Aloud he continued. “We’ll be in the war room. I think Ms. Yoshiie has a little explaining to do before we go any further.”
Tucker nodded in understanding. He took the boy into his arms, looking larger than ever with such a small toddler clinging to him.
Sam had known it was coming, but he still had hoped for a little more time to cement his relationship with Azami. He didn’t want her taking offense to the grilling Ryland was certain to give her. Ryland wasn’t privy to her mind. He couldn’t know she wasn’t a threat to Daniel or their team. He would have to find reassurance his own way.
Sam glanced at Azami. She was impossible to fathom, her expression as serene as ever, and that could either mean she’d been expecting Ryland’s interrogation after her revelation, or that she was fully prepared to fight her way out of the compound.
“Ms. Yoshiie.” Ryland gestured toward the door after handing off his son to Tucker. “After you.”
Again her lashes fluttered, two crescent-shaped fans, feathery and beautiful, hiding her expression and making her appear fragile and feminine when Sam knew she was made of steel. Sam took a step after her and Ryland shook his head.
“Not you, Sam. You stay here.”
It was a clear command. Sam was a soldier first and foremost and he’d never disobeyed an order from Ryland in his life. Every muscle in his body tightened. Ryland turned on his heel to follow Azami out, but Sam used his speed to cut him off. The effect on his body robbed him of breath, but it didn’t matter. If Azami was facing a firing squad so to speak, she wasn’t doing it alone.
“With all due respect, sir, I can’t do that.”
The room went silent. Everyone turned to stare at him. He didn’t take his eyes from Ryland’s.
“That wasn’t a request, soldier,” Ryland said.
“I’m aware of that, sir, but in this instance, I feel I have no choice but to attend this meeting and request that you rescind that order.”
“And if I don’t, you intend to disobey?”
Before Sam could answer, Ryland stepped close to him, nearly nose to nose. Sam didn’t give ground. They stared at one another a long time in silence.
Tell me what she is to you.
She’s my Lily. I believe in her, Rye. Sam answered his friend and commander the only way he knew how—honestly. She’s one of us whether she admits it or not. I’ve been in her head, and she could never hide a threat to us from me. She isn’t here for Daniel.
Ryland continued to stare at him a few minutes longer before he nodded his head and spun around to stalk out of the room.
“Are you crazy?” Ian hissed. “You’re lucky you’re wounded. Has anyone ever disobeyed an order?”
“He understands I have no choice,” Sam said and dragged a shirt off the nightstand. He didn’t bother with shoes, padding barefoot after Ryland and Azami.
His teammates circled him almost protectively and he found himself grateful for their camaraderie. They might not understand, but they were showing support, hoping Ryland wouldn’t take his head off, or confine him to quarters for the rest of his life.
Sam waited until Azami sank gracefully into a chair before he chose the one beside her. He caught the men exchanging quick glances, but he didn’t care. Azami wasn’t going to be alone when Ryland questioned her. Sam was absolutely convinced she wasn’t Whitney’s ally and that she was no threat to Daniel. If anything, she wanted to help the child.
“Perhaps a cup of tea,” Azami suggested. “If that’s possible.”
She appeared absolutely calm—much calmer than he was feeling. Sam wanted to gather her close and protect her from what was to come, but she clearly didn’t need him to shield her. There was no fluttering of nervous hands; she folded them neatly in her lap and simply waited while everyone took a chair. Ryland nodded toward Gator, who quickly leapt up to make a cup of tea for Azami.
“Ms. Yoshiie,” Ryland began.
She inclined her head in that graceful, demure way she had. “Please call me Azami. I would prefer to learn American ways.”
“Azami then,” Ryland said, in no way deceived by her delicate features. “I think it’s time for an explanation, don’t you?”
“You certainly deserve one,” she agreed. “You’ve been more than patient. Dr. Whitney called me Thorn. He gave the girls names of flowers and seasons, a careless acknowledgment that we had to be called something other than the numbers he gave us in his files. He thought me quite useless as anything other than for experiments, so instead of a Lily, or a Rose, I was a Thorn to him, a constant pain that nagged at him until he threw me away—back onto the streets in Japan. I was eight years old.”
Silence greeted her matter-of-fact revelation. Ryland put both hands on the table and leaned toward her, his piercing steel gaze fixing steadily on her face.
“GhostWalkers recognize one another by the energy surrounding us. I don’t feel it when you walk into a room.” Ryland made it a statement. He looked to Kadan for confirmation.
Sam shoved down anger. He rarely got angry, but Ryland was all but calling her a liar.
Kadan shook his head. “I don’t feel anything at all,” he agreed, “but Sam did. From the very beginning he felt something was off about the Yoshiie family, in particular Azami. He went so far as to scan their faces and send them to Lily to run the facial recognition program.” Kadan too leaned toward Azami, a slight frown on his face. “Why would Whitney find you useless to him and the program when you’re obviously gifted?”
“Whitney is able to recognize those with psychic talents, even when they are mere infants. Unfortunately he isn’t a terribly patient man with children. My ability to teleport didn’t appear until I was ten.”
“There was a mention of a child named Thorn,” Kadan told Ryland. “Jesse, from Team Two, his wife, Saber, talked about her a few times.”
Azami remained quiet, and she held herself away from Sam. He knew what she was doing. If Ryland didn’t accept the things she told him—if this meeting turned bad—she didn’t want him in trouble with his unit or to have to make a choice between them.
Don’t worry about me, Azami. I’m a grown man. I make my choices and I live with them. I know exactly what I’m doing and why.
Ryland’s head snapped around. “Speak out loud for everyone to hear if you have something to say, Sam. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Sam had rarely heard Ryland use that voice and more than anything else, as low and as stern as it was, the tone told him he was on treacherous ground.
“I told her not to worry about me, that I make my own choices and I know exactly what I’m doing and why.” Sam wasn’t about to dodge the truth.
“I hope you do,” Ryland said.
“I had reservations about the Yoshiie family from the moment I met them, especially Azami. From the beginning I thought it was possible she was one of us—a GhostWalker. It wasn’t that I felt the familiar energy, I can’t put my finger on what it was exactly, but I was very uneasy and indicated that to Nico and Kadan as well as sending Lily pictures,” Sam reported. He resisted the need to put his hand over Azami’s folded hands beneath the table. “Of course my first worry was for Daniel.”
It was important Azami knew that he would fight with his last breath for the boy against anyone who tried to harm him. She had to know his loyalty to his team whom he considered family ran deep, as would his commitment to her—and any children they had.
“She fought beside me, Rye. I’ve been in her mind. She saved me out there. I put my life in her hands and I would never have allowed her to come here if I thought for one moment she was a threat to Daniel or that she was working with Whitney.” Sam looked him right in the eye. “If you don’t know that much about me, what the hell am I doing here?”
Ryland didn’t flinch. “If I didn’t know that much about you, Knight, you wouldn’t be sitting at this table. Wounded or not, you’d be on your ass in the brig.”
“Mr. Miller . . .” Azami began.
“Captain. Captain Miller,” Ryland corrected.
Sam ducked his head. Ryland was royally pissed. It was difficult to get the man riled, but once he was, there was very little backup in him.
“Forgive me,” Azami said in her demure tone, those long lashes lowering as she bowed her head gracefully. “This is my fault. When I was young, my father asked only a couple of things of me. He asked that I live a life of honor and that I throw hatred and anger away as useless. I hated Whitney with the passion only a child could have. My father taught me that he is a monster, yes, but my hatred of him gave him great power over me. Bringing a man like Whitney to justice is impossible, but someone has to try.”
“How?” Ryland asked. “You must have a plan.”
Azami looked around the table. “You are asking me to trust all of you when you don’t trust me.”
“You came to our home on false pretenses,” Ryland pointed out.
She shook her head, her eyes steady on his. “That is not so, Captain Miller. I insist on visiting all corporations or countries who wish to purchase one of my satellites. Our company is legitimate and I know you didn’t choose us blindly. We deliver the best in the world. There is no competition as of yet. Our lens is superior, as is our software, to any other on the market. You reached out to us.”
Gator placed a cup of tea in front of Azami. “I noticed you took milk in your tea earlier.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
“Can I get you anything else, ma’am … Azami?” Gator asked.
Sam shifted in his chair. He was happy someone was being polite to her, but of all the men, Gator was the most charming with women. He was totally enamored of his wife, but that didn’t stop women from falling for him.
Azami raised her long lashes and looked at him directly. The impact struck like an arrow straight through his heart. How did she know? How were they so connected? He wouldn’t betray his family or team, but he’d fight with every breath in his body for her. Her eyes seemed like the midnight sky, dark and yet sparkling with stars, embracing him with heat, with something very close to desire. Then her lashes came down and she was once again focusing on Gator.