Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“And then. . .when we got to her door. . .I told her to touch my braid."
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
Everyone knew what lived on Rin's braid. A poison he cultivated himself that was smoothly refined, odorless, and absorbed through the pores on contact.
One touch and the nervous system folded and consciousness left with no warning nor pain.
In a fight, Rin swung that braid like a blade made of sleep. With one graze across the skin, the enemy dropped and he simply shot them in the head. It was elegant, terrifying, and completely Rin.
Nyomi is going to be fucking pissed.
I opened my eyes and frowned at him. “That’s kidnapping.”
“I saw it as transferring her—”
“What did you fucking do with her?”
"Once she passed out, I took her to my villa. And when I woke her up with the antidote, she was on the roof of the villa. I'd set it up while she slept. Roses everywhere. The cliffs, the ocean, the sunset coming down. Lobster. Champagne. I gave her diamonds."
"You kidnapped my Tiger's stylist, poisoned her with your braid, and then set up a dinner date?"
“I transferred her to a dreamy luxury experience and she liked the surprise, after. . ."
“After what?”
“After cursing me out and slapping me once.” He pulled on the joint. The gold paper burned down another inch. "Once she was calm. . .we talked. She's. . .”
He paused and looked down at the sleeping island below us. "She's nothing like any woman I've ever met. Nothing. I don't even know what to do with her, Kenji. She doesn't understand how powerful, rich, or deadly I am. She treats me like I'm a servant and. . .that makes me hard."
I blinked and looked up at the sky.
“Why, Kenji?”
“Men like us want to be seen in our true form. As the human. Not the power or the violence.”
He turned the joint between his fingers. “She said something odd to me once the sun set.”
“What?”
"She looked at me and said, ‘Why does your shadow look like a snake swirling around in the air?’”
I widened my eyes.
“Then she asked if the poison I gave her had made her crazy."
My chest tightened.
I thought about Nyomi. The first time she'd described my dragon-shadow.
“Kenji. . .you know the legend. My father pushed in my head over and over, but I never believed him.” He handed me the joint and looked at me. “But. . .what if it’s true? My mother always said I had the power of the serpent. I hate her so much, but. . .that is one thing that has stuck with me.”
“I think it’s true.”
Rin's bloodline and mine had split centuries ago. Two brothers that had both been Shinigami Hunters. When the demons died or retreated and Shinigami Hunters were no longer needed, those two brothers separated and walked different paths.
My ancestor became a samurai.
Rin's ancestor wanted power, fame, and the throne. He worked his way up, killed the emperor of that time and took the seat.
The brothers never reunited, but apparently the blood remembered and. . .perhaps the shadows too.
And now a woman from across the world was looking at Rin and seeing a serpent twisting in the air behind him like it had been waiting to be noticed.
I swallowed. "She could be your true love."
"I don't know if I even have that."
I took another hit of the joint. When I exhaled this time, the smoke curled between us, blue-tinged and shimmering in the moonlight.
He ran his fingers through his hair. "I asked her about the bag and told her simply that. . .when we make love, I will put it over her head, but that it is breathable."
I waited.
"She had a response, but I don't understand it. I was hoping you could ask your Tiger to give me a translation."
I sighed.
My Tiger was going to be pissed about him drugging and kidnapping her. I doubted she would offer a translation when she would want his blood under her nails.
Still, I shook my head and asked. "What did she say?"
He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. "First of all, she called me the n-word."
I blinked. "She what?"
"The n-word. I don't know why she would call me that, but she said it really loud and then asked if I was crazy.”
Oh fuck. This is going to be a shit show.
I inhaled more of the joint, unsure of what else to do.
"Then she said something about her face card."
"Her face card?"
"Yes. I think American girls call that like their status of beauty or—”
“I get it, but basically she brought up that she was too beautiful?”
“Yeah. There were several sentences about her face card, but then she said something about if that bag came near her face, the only solution would be ‘belt to ass.’" He looked at me, completely serious. "That’s the part that lost me. Do you think she's expressing interest but the cultural barrier is causing confusion?"