Arrow to the Soul (28 page)

Maybe once he was out of the way, the woman could find her beauty again in Adam’s arms. She knew he was below her in the village. She’d sent him the location in a coded message three days earlier.

He’d shown yesterday, Dmitry Asinimov at his side. Though she’d expected Adam, his presence hurt Arrow and she’d wondered at her weakness. He had never lied to her. He’d been candid in the fact Aziveh held his heart. It was why Arrow ventured to this place after all.

Children mulled to and fro, kicking dirty round balls in the dusty morning. Raised voices could be heard but it was the hut sitting on the uppermost hill that held Arrow’s attention. The man had several wives, and he beat them each accordingly, sparing none his bitter temperament. Yet still they scurried to do his bidding.

He was not a good man.

But Arrow was hesitant to take his life. The women were adults and had made their decision to remain with him. Social circumstances notwithstanding, every woman had a choice in Arrow’s mind, and they’d chosen to stay with the man, keeping their children oppressed and in danger. When the man put his hand on the children, Arrow’s decision had solidified.

He tossed the children to the side like trash, kicking and hitting them until they screamed if they displeased him. Aziveh’s husband was a bastard. His children’s screams bit deep into Arrow’s mind.

The innocent ones deserved better. Arrow would see they got it.

She checked her crossbow and sat there waiting for morning prayers to end. She caressed the mahogany wood of her hand-crafted
yumi
. She lovingly stroked the sleek lines of the weapon she’d crafted for a very special event. That event wasn’t far off, but today was equally important so she’d brought it out of hiding and traveled to Afghanistan with it.

The wail of morning prayers ended and anticipation filled Arrow. A jeep pulled into the village, and as she scoped it she saw Adam’s beloved face. Set in harsh lines she felt his energy, his need, even from this distance.

“Soon, Mr. Collins,” she said to the wind.

She prepared her mind, centering and calming the waters that frothed when she’d seen him. It took her a few moments, but she got up and began her journey down the incline. She kept to the shadows that hugged her tight. She could hear the sounds of raised voices and fists meeting flesh.

She was doing the right thing. What kind of God did the man spend his time praying to if he left those prayers and immediately began beating his women?

She came to her pre-scouted hiding spot and watched as Adam walked up to the hut. Her quarry stepped out into the sunlight and asked what the man wanted. A gasp sounded behind the man and then Aziveh stepped out from behind him, hand going to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

Her husband noticed the reaction and backhanded her. The blow sent Aziveh to the ground. Arrow notched her single
ya
and prepared. The next blow would end the man’s life. Adam stepped up to the man, threatening him even as he reached to help Aziveh to her feet.

Once there she launched herself into his arms. Any doubts Arrow had about Adam’s feelings for the other woman were dashed at the look on his face. Pain, relief, hope. They played like a movie across his face.

Aziveh’s husband was livid, pulling on her until Adam said something low and no doubt threatening, and he stepped back. A crowd had gathered and that wasn’t the ideal situation, but Arrow waited. Dmitry kept an eye on the proceedings as well.

She knew the husband would react virulently soon and she would be there to protect Adam and end Aziveh’s strife.

The man cursed and Aziveh cried. Adam urged her to come with him, but Aziveh’s husband lost hold of his anger then. Arrow took a deep breath and focused on her target.

Her husband punched Aziveh in the head as she stepped away from Adam and she crumpled to the ground. Adam reached for her and the man pulled a gun from his robes.

He raised his hand and she let her
ya
fly straight and true. The man’s life ended with an arrow to the throat. Hell broke loose then, but Arrow knew Dmitry had Adam’s six. They would make it out safe.

She stopped only once and glanced back. He saw her then and his beautiful black eyes widened.

She nodded at him.

And even though her heart was breaking, she felt more at peace than she ever had. Adam was her light in the darkness. The least she could do was give him his heart back.

She turned then and let the terrain consume her. She would go home now to rest before her journey began again.

Home.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Tamba Highlands were a treacherous place. Surrounded on each side by mountains, Adam played hell finding
Akuma no shinden,
the Temple of the Demon. Locals whispered the name if they dared say it at all. It was listed on a very old map Adam managed to uncover. Out of everyone he’d asked in some of the villages that dotted the mountains only one old man stepped forward and gave Adam half-assed directions. Fear had been written on his face and he’d stuttered through the recitation. Eventually Adam simply thanked him, took the map and decided he’d have to rely on his ability to track.

Saya’s home was in the middle of some of the most beautiful terrain he’d ever seen. And some of the most dangerous. It was winter in Japan and the mountains that rose above this land were shrouded in white. The sunlight bounced off the white and it seemed the light here was brighter. Perfect for a woman who feared the darkness.

The days in the valley weren’t too bad, but the nights were frigid hell. It took him ten days to find her. What Saya didn’t know was that Adam was one of the best trackers in the world and he was stubborn as hell.

He was also in awe of the woman who lived here. But his awe was overridden by a true rage. She’d run from him again. No matter that she’d tried to give him back something he’d once thought precious. She had run from him.

He remembered her eyes as she’d stood on the ridge in Afghanistan ten days ago. Pain had nearly sliced him in two. She was who he was meant for. Not Aziveh.

Saya.

And she’d run from him.

He still could not believe what she’d done.
For the light you gave me, I give you your heart,
she’d written in the coded text that held the coordinates of Aziveh’s location. Not the actions of a killer.

But rather those of a lover.

So here he was, braving numerous booby-traps and all manner of cold and doubt, searching for a woman who walked in the darkness.

In his musings he’d not realized how quiet the woods around him had grown. Nothing moved. Birds didn’t chirp, nothing buzzed in the air. In the distance he could hear the waterfall that rose hundreds of feet in the air. But that was it.

“Hiding?” he called out.

She stepped out from behind a tree. He almost went to his knees. Her hair was unbound, long black skeins flowing around her in the breeze. But it was her eyes that held him spellbound.

“I remember the first time I saw you in Arequipa,” he mused. “I thought you the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

Her eyes narrowed and she raised her chin. “Why are you here, Mr. Collins?”

“Because you are,” he said simply.

“There is nothing for you here.”

“You are,” he repeated.

His heart stopped beating as a single tear fell down her cheek. “Leave,” she whispered, but he heard her because he would always hear her.

She held his heart. They were connected.

“I cannot leave. You have something I cannot live without.”

Emotion lashed Adam as she stood there so heartbreakingly lovely he wanted to yell it out. His grandfather would be proud of her, proud to call her granddaughter.

“I have nothing you need, Mr. Collins.” Her voice was hard now. Dangerous and warning.

“You do, Saya,” he said firmly as he took a single step forward.

She took one back. “Do not do this.” Her voice shook and his hands clenched.

“You took something from me I cannot live without,” he said again.

“What?” she asked tremulously.

“My heart.”

She shook her head. “I gave Aziveh back to you.”

“Aziveh is not for me. Aziveh does not walk in the darkness. Aziveh does not give of herself so others may live. Aziveh doesn’t move me. Aziveh’s soul does not call to mine.”

Her eyes closed and Adam felt her pain, acute and violent. Another step forward. She remained where she was.

“I have no soul.”

“If you have no soul, you can have mine. It has been yours from the moment I saw you,” he said solemnly.

“Do not do this. I am killer.” She was pleading with him.

He took all the steps needed to reach her, but he didn’t touch her. Not yet.

“Killer you may be, but you are
my
killer.”

“What are you doing?” Disbelief rang in her tone.

“I know what you did. I know why you did it. But you ran from me. Not once but twice. And each time you took a vital part of me with you. Since you run from me, I came to you. Because where you are is where I will be, Rena Kurosawa.”

Her mouth fell open on a silent gasp.

He didn’t smile but he tasted victory. “You and your sisters are not the only ones who have ways of getting information. A little research—okay a fucking lot of research—and I had your name. It is a beautiful name. There is power in a name, isn’t there?”

“Why?”

He knew what she asked. “Give me your hand,” he ordered.

Her back straightened and he did smile then. He grabbed her hand and her amber eyes flared.
Fucking gorgeous
. He placed her hand over his heart.

“I tried to find Aziveh for seven years. Yet in a matter of ten days I found you.”

She shook her head. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t understand it either until I began to look for you. I saw you in Afghanistan and even though I knew before you left me in Virginia, that day in the hills I knew what you were to me.”

She said nothing, just watched him.

“It hurt to watch you leave me that day, but I understood. I never told you what you had become to me. How could I because I didn’t even know. You were a killer, and then you were more. It wasn’t until I began to move heaven and earth to find you that I realized what you are to me, Saya.”

“What?”

“Everything. You are everything.”

“I am a killer.”

He nodded and lifted her hand to kiss her fingertips.
Plum blossoms.
“Yes. I am too.”

“Do you know why I came to Virginia?” she asked.

“No.”

“For you.”

“Why?”

“From the moment I saw you in Arequipa I have dreamed of your black eyes. They replaced the cold of Joseph’s and you made my heart beat faster. You rippled the waters of my mind and I had to know…what could you be to me? So after Bullet sent you to stop me in Mexico, I followed you back to Virginia. I did not second guess my decision until I stood on that ridge in Afghanistan.”

“What made you second guess it?”

“Killers do not love and yet that is exactly what I feel for you. I realize the emotion is foreign to me, and yet it is potent and can be called nothing else. Unless you consider it obsession.” Her mouth lifted at the corner and a pang shot through Adam’s chest. “Yes—obsession could be a better term. And this obsession distracts me from my purpose. I cannot let you go, but neither do I want to keep you.”

His heart stuttered. “You have no choice.”

“There is always a choice, Mr. Collins.”

He growled and she backed up a step. He advanced as the distance was too great. “My name is Adam. Use it.”

She inclined her head. “There is always a choice, Adam.”

“There is no choice for you now. Your hand is in mine, my soul is yours. Not to borrow, Saya, to keep.”

“I am the darkness. I don’t want that to touch you,” she whispered.

“It is too late,” he responded.

She turned away from him then and began walking. He followed. When they came to the temple she’d claimed as her home, his breath let out in a whoosh.

It was classic Japanese architecture—enormous, towering, dragons on every surface, their eyes warning all who entered. Death was there.

He followed her through rooms with towering ceilings, and she finally stopped on a balcony that overlooked the valley he’d searched for days now.

“You knew I was here the whole time, didn’t you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Most of it,” she said with a small smile. “You are good at what you do but I didn’t want you here.”

He walked to the crumbling ledge, marveling at the beauty of her home while at the same time feeling the bitterness in the air that signaled things had happened in this temple no child should have ever been exposed to.

“You were here. So here was where I needed to be.”

She watched him with her amber eyes and he wondered if the Great Spirit had ever formed a more beautiful woman.

“You have many questions, Mr. Collins. I can feel them reaching for me but my truths cannot be yours quite yet. I have many more miles to travel on this journey.”

He shrugged as he turned to her then. “Your truths will be mine when you’re ready. The fires that molded you burned bright but here is my truth: as long as I’m alive, nothing will touch you again. I have claimed you and you are mine.”

The emotions that played over her face made Adam’s knees buckle. Fear, joy, pain, need. She needed him and it was his honor to be hers.

“You. Are. Mine,” he repeated.

Finally, she walked to him, her tiny hands cradling his face, fingers sculpting his features, eyes looking deep inside him.

“Truth,” she said softly. “But there is something that you cannot forget in this. And I would need you to understand before we go any further.”

“Nothing is too much,” he said firmly.

“If I am yours, you can never forget that the opposite is true. Would you belong to a killer?”

“I am yours in all your forms, Saya. Whether you are Rena Kurosawa, born of the black swamp, Saya, the swift arrow, or Arrow, the assassin—you hold all the vital pieces of me, and inside of your heart I found myself.”