more violence down on you and anyone close to you. Do you really want that?”
“He isn’t on drugs,” she said.
“Do you know how many people say that about their loved ones?”
Loved one. How wrong he was. “It’s my turn,” she said. “What did you mean when you said you were looking for someone?”
He seemed to realize he wouldn’t get anything more out of her unless he gave her something in return. “I was looking for a boy named Ryan Starling,” he said.
16
Mist’s immediate thought was that he’d been sent by Loki along with the Jotunar to get Ryan. If one method didn’t work, try another.
“What do you want with him?” she asked.
“I’m a lawyer representing his aunt’s estate. He’s the boy in there, isn’t he?”
A lawyer. She wasn’t sure it could get much worse. If he was telling the truth.
“How is it that you happened to come looking for Ryan just in time to witness all this?” she asked, shrugging out of her torn jacket.
“Are you accusing
“It can work both ways, Mr. Tashiro. I don’t know you, and you’re making pronouncements on things you know nothing about. Why should I trust anything you tell me?”
He began to stand up again, and this time Mist let him. They stared at each other. She noticed that Tashiro was fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his fingers as if he was aware of some danger he hadn’t anticipated. His hand trembled as he lifted it to brush dark, sweaty hair away from his forehead.
It wasn’t fear, at least not of violence. She saw it in his eyes: the awakening of desire, the heat, the sudden awareness that she was not only an antagonist.
She hadn’t even begun to push her “glamour,” but he was beginning to feel it anyway. Even if he was Loki’s agent, he was still susceptible to Freya’s influence.
And she had to take full advantage of his weakness.
She undid the top two buttons of her shirt. “Did someone send you to look for Ryan?” she asked softly.
He blinked. “I told you. His aunt asked me to find him. She left him substantial assets in her will.”
“How
“I have contacts all over the city. I asked around.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Why does that matter?”
Mist knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. Holding her self- disgust at bay, she remembered again how it had felt to “become” Freya that moment in Asbrew . . . golden honey-mead warmth and the scent of primroses, the peace and love—and naked lust— that had so completely enveloped her and overwhelmed Loki Laufeyson. She began to fashion a new image of herself as she had shaped the Rune-staves in the gym—a figure of surpassing beauty, perfection of skin and hair, full of hip and breast. An illustration drawn solely for the pleasure of men.
She leaned very close and undid the rest of the buttons one by one, pulling the shirt open to reveal the thin T-shirt underneath. “Tell me the truth, Koji.”
His eyes focused just where she wanted them to. “I don’t . . . know what you’re talking about. No one else sent me.”
Mist knew he was telling the truth. She heard it in his voice, saw it in his body, felt it in his soul.
“Whatever business you have with Ryan,” she said, “you’re not going near him until he’s safe in the hospital.” She moved closer still, her chest almost touching his. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“You . . . have to tell the police everything you know.” He hesitated, swallowing several times. “You must see that your friend needs help.”
“Is that your judgment as a lawyer, Mr. Tashiro?”
“It’s the only choice you have.”
“And what do plan to tell the police?”
“Only . . . what I witnessed.”
She raised her hand to brush his cheek with her fingertips. “Just facts? No speculation?”
His head jerked. “I—”
“Why don’t you remind me exactly what happened?”
Confusion crossed his face. “You
“Do I?” She ran one fingernail along his jaw.
His gaze dropped to her parted lips. “I . . . they—”
“It was self- defense, wasn’t it?”
“I . . .” His eyes met hers, and his expression told her he was slipping out of her grasp. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Mist.”
“Ms. Mist, I’ll only report what I saw. The kids can make their statements when they’re able to. There’ll be someone there to—”
“Koji,” she said, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to make this so difficult.”
His eyes began to glaze over again. “I know you’re hiding something,” he said, glancing away.
“Look at me, Koji. What could I be hiding?”
Sweat trickled down his temple. He was still fighting her. “You know . . . who those guys were,” he said, “but you’re afraid to . . . identify them.”
“What would I be afraid of?” Mist purred.
“Like I said,” Koji whispered, gulping audibly, “it’ll be better if you . . .” He drifted into silence and closed his eyes.
Mist dropped her hand from his face and listened. Still no sirens. Gabi must have called off the ambulance.
He opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, too, but—”
“Look at me, Koji.”
He obeyed her, though his head jerked in a last- ditch attempt to resist. In his brown eyes she saw the reflection of the beast
“What . . . what do you want?” Koji asked, his breath coming faster.
What did she want? Mist thought with amusement. Everything, of course.
“Let’s go over what happened one more time,” she said, “just so there isn’t any misunderstanding. You wouldn’t want to get anyone into trouble, would you? That would make me so unhappy.”
“Yes,” he murmured.
She told him what she wanted to say. His lips parted, revealing even white teeth. “I— Yes. That’s how it happened.”
“Wonderful.” She took his hand in hers. “Now I want you to go into the kitchen and sit quietly for a little while. I promise I’ll be back very soon.”
“No,” he said, clasping her hand more tightly. There was strength in those hands. She liked that. She liked the way he gazed at her like a puppy hoping that a delicious scrap would fall from the table.
Vaguely she remembered there was something else she needed to be doing. Something she should be worried about. But she couldn’t quite remember what it was, and it didn’t really matter. She wondered why she’d bothered to go through this ridiculous business at all.
She worked her hand free of Koji’s and strolled into the kitchen. What in the world had she been thinking? This was no fit hall for Freya’s daughter. She opened the refrigerator and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Nothing worth so much as tasting. And her clothes . . . It would not do. She would go shopping as soon as possible and