Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(100)

That was the first she'd heard of it and she snapped her head up to look him in the eyes. He pressed her hand tighter against his thigh. She read his silent signal and didn't comment, but she was going to have a lot to say to him when they were alone. A. Lot.



The interview went on for some time until finally Marcellus rose, indicating it was over and they were free to go. "Our doctor will be in shortly to take the necessary tests for DNA and then we're finished here."



Mariko nodded. The council, like Ricco, seemed convinced she really was a Tanaka. They hadn't said so, but she was adept at reading people, and every one of them believed her to be from the legendary family. She didn't know what to feel about that.



She was extremely happy the rest of the Ferraros were gone when they emerged from the office. She felt drained and not able to face anyone. Only the bodyguards waited to escort them back to the house.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN





M

ariko was quiet on the way back to Ricco's home. He glanced down at the top of her bent head as she sat beside him in the backseat of the car. "I was going to tell you about the decision to go to Tokyo as soon as we got home. Stefano makes up his mind fast. He wants to talk to Osamu." There was no guilt or remorse in his voice, only a quiet explanation. "We both feel there is a high probability she's involved."



She felt there was a high probability as well, although she didn't want to believe it. She looked down at her hands  – at the scars from Ryuu's biting her. She hadn't thought about his tiny little teeth in years. She thought she made up the closet incident to explain the scars.



"Why does she hate me so much?" It came out a whisper. She turned her head to stare out the window at the glittering lights of the city as they drove through the streets. The day had passed while they laid his father to rest, had a reception with the townspeople and then the separate meeting with the riders. She hadn't even been aware the sun had set and night had fallen. Now, suddenly, she felt that the sun had set on all of it, her newfound confidence in herself and her secret desire that Ricco Ferraro hadn't been rescuing her when he proclaimed to the world that they were to be married  – that somehow he could miraculously become a one-woman man. 



"She raised two boys who committed a brutal murder. You were a daily reminder. Why you were placed in her home, I have no idea. My guess, if I had to make one, is that it was all about penance."



She nodded, still staring out the window. What was there to say? Osamu had hated her. Sometimes she hated Ryuu. Most of the time the woman had loved him. She'd set up conflict between Ryuu and Mariko so that he would side with Osamu against her, feel guilty and then be angry at Osamu. Like Mariko, Ryuu was always off-balance. Osamu had been very good at keeping both that way.



Ricco shifted in his seat, reaching for her, drawing her against the protection of his body. She didn't resist. He was warm and felt invincible. She let him hold her because she needed holding. She felt a little guilty over that. They'd buried his father today. Hers had been dead for years, yet he was comforting her.



"You didn't eat much," he said softly, his fingers sliding through her hair. "Are you hungry?"



She should be taking care of him, not the other way around. She felt vaguely ashamed that she could only stare out the window, feeling his hands in her hair, and his body solid against hers. Sometimes she felt completely invisible, as if she not only worked in the shadows but lived there  – and she'd wanted to. Like now. Except that Ricco could see her no matter where she was, invisible or not. He could always find her.



"No." She wasn't the least bit hungry. She was sad. Very, very sad. She'd been living in a dream world with him, and it wasn't going to last. She knew the truth somewhere in her head, but her heart had refused to listen and she'd let him in. He was there, inside of her, and she knew she'd never get him out.



Living with Osamu had been a child's nightmare. She'd never understood why the woman would take in two children off the street she despised so much. Osamu had said their mother was a whore and that she had abandoned them. Mariko had been beaten "for her own good," to get the devil out of her. She didn't dare wear clothes or makeup that might be considered attractive to a man. She'd never felt attractive until she met Ricco Ferraro.



"Mariko," he said softly. "Tell me what you're feeling."



It was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn't know what she was feeling  – although sorrow was close. He had stolen her heart with his care for her. The way he seemed to cherish her. He made her so much more than she was when she was with him. He gave her a confidence in herself as a woman, as a human. He made her feel beautiful and intelligent. He listened to anything she said. He wanted her to speak.