Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(139)

"I hope they last a long time." She was truthful.



She couldn't keep her hands off him. She wanted to touch him everywhere and she did, stroking, caressing, kissing, biting, licking at him. Her fingernails moved over his back and down to his buttocks.



"What are you doing?" he asked.



"We have until two o'clock and I'm making every single second count."



"I'm human, Mariko. Coming twice is … "



She pushed him to his back. "Then I get to play."



He laughed softly as she kissed his throat and down his chest to his nipples where her tongue flicked at him. "Play all you want." His hands covered her bare buttocks, fingers digging deep in a massage.



She kissed her way down to his cock, already semihard. Yeah. She was going to get her way.





CHAPTER NINETEEN





R

icco detested that his woman had insisted she go along. He was proud of Mariko for her decision and knew she would never do less, but he was determined to find out where the kidnappers were holding Ryuu. His methods might not meet with her approval.



She was exhausted as well. Coming out of the ropes was usually a slow process, but they'd had wild sex several times. More than he'd ever thought possible, before both had fallen asleep. She had been draped over his body when he woke, her breasts against his ribs, her arm around his waist. He'd fallen asleep on his back and stayed that way, something very unusual for him, but he loved his woman lying over top of him. He'd slept soundly, again something very unusual.



Nao's condo was on the top floor. There were security cameras everywhere. Shadow riders were required to hear lies, disrupt electricity and be able to be pulled apart and put back together. Most could compel the truth as well. That was a specialty of Ricco's and he'd damn well get the truth out of Nao.



       
         
       
        



Stefano held up his hand at the entrance to the tube and indicated a camera pointed right at them. It wouldn't be able to capture their images, hidden inside the tube as they were, but the moment they stepped out, it would record them. He raised his hand, a gesture that wasn't strictly necessary, but one all of them made. It was a human gesture. The disruption really began in their brains and had nothing to do with hands. Stefano concentrated, and the dim lights flickered. The camera smoked and then abruptly went dead. He looked cautiously around, seeking any other devices that might be a problem before he stepped out into the hallway and beckoned to Ricco, Taviano and Mariko.



Taviano moved ahead of Stefano. He was extremely powerful at disrupting electrical equipment. He would ensure no cameras worked as they made their way through the condo to Nao's private quarters. The walls were decorated with expensive paintings, most depicting ancient tortures of men in various stages of undress with ropes done in intricate knots. Ricco recognized the ancient art of hojojutsu. He paused to look at the prints. Nao liked ancient weapons and ancient tortures.



A few very ancient prints and extremely rare books were kept under glass. Above them along the wall were weapons of every kind throughout the history of Japan. The collection was museum-worthy. Hundreds of weapons from every era. Ricco would have loved to have the time to study all of them, because there were three he was absolutely certain were ones he'd bid on and lost to an anonymous bidder. The first had been ten years earlier. The second, seven, and the last, five years ago. If he was correct about the items, then Nao had been keeping tabs on him for a long, long time.



He kept walking, following Stefano, but that strange nagging feeling in his gut only intensified. He noticed four empty spaces, as if the wall had been prepared for four more weapons, but Nao hadn't found them yet.



As they passed the door to the caretaker's room, Ricco hesitated. His gut was still talking to him, telling him something wasn't quite right. He stopped and motioned to the others that he wanted to check the room. He waited for Stefano's acknowledgment and then stepped into the larger shadow that slipped beneath the door.



The suite of rooms was spacious and very clean. The caretaker was a neat freak. Every single thing was put precisely in place, from the books on the shelves in alphabetical order to the coffee mugs with their handles turned the exact same way. Glasses were lined up in cupboards, plates slipped into slots so that they stuck out precisely a quarter of an inch. Everywhere he looked, the rooms were perfect.



He slipped into the bedroom. The bed wasn't made, the blankets flipped back, but no one was in it. One pillow was military straight, the other cocked at an angle. He glanced toward the bathroom. There was no light spilling out from under the door indicating the caretaker was in that room.