Falling Through Glass Page 11

  Emmi opened her eyes to see Kaemon standing in the center of the small room. He held his sword with both hands, but low—pointing downward in front of him, in the position her father and Jake jokingly called the “stupid wannabe” stance.

  It was strictly a movie-type maneuver, they said. A real swordsman wouldn’t use it since a real swordsman wouldn’t be stupid enough to invite an open attack from a dozen guys and still think he could come out on top.

  Of course, Nakagawa Kaemon hadn’t ever seen a movie to know any better…

  Two older women shrieked for the men to stop, but no one paid attention. The first one rushed Kae and had his attack easily deflected. Two more rushed, then a third circled behind Kae, followed by another. Emmi mashed herself into the corner and shut her eyes again. She didn’t want to hear the clashing of steel blades, didn’t want to hear the sound of breaking wood or the ripping of rice paper-paneled walls and silk screens.

  And Emmi absolutely did not want to hear the grunts or cries of men being injured and killed or feel the hot, sticky spray of blood hit her face.

  Emmi looked, hoping it wasn’t Kaemon’s blood.

  It wasn’t, and Emmi found herself watching the single-minded artistry in this life or death situation. He sidestepped an attacker and spun to gash another’s forearm. He switched his katana to his left hand and crouched to avoid a rush. He kicked the man’s legs out from under him, then seized his short sword and pierced the man’s heart.

  He was clearly on the defensive, and yet he switched gears better than a choreographed stuntman and attacked those who got in too close.

  A man fell in front of her, his sword hand bleeding profusely. Even as Kae reached for his tanto, Emmi instinctively kicked the man in the head. She lunged for the fallen dagger herself, but the man grabbed her. She slashed backward with his tanto and scrambled away. A wave of nausea washed over her when reality hit and she saw the gaping wound she’d caused, but the queasiness vanished in the rush of adrenaline that followed.

  Out of nowhere came a small throwing knife that hit Kae in the upper thigh. He staggered and lost his footing in a slick puddle of blood. Not thinking, Emmi dove at the knife thrower, who sought the advantage over Kae. She jammed the tanto into his groin.

  Silence fell for a moment, and Emmi looked around the jumbled, blood-spattered room. Kae was a few feet away, down on one knee. He was supporting himself partially by leaning on the hilt of his katana, the blade of which was stuck into the tatami mat covering the floor. The throwing knife still protruded from his thigh, and Emmi scrambled to him.

  “Don’t touch me,” he snapped and yanked the knife free.

  A woman with a bandage covering her cheek rushed into the room. She knocked Emmi out of the way and began tending to Kae, who seemed quite content that she do so.

  A formidable-looking man came in and began barking orders, and the onlookers who had come in to see the outcome of the battle scattered. Soon a bunch of men wearing an all too familiar uniform appeared, and Emmi found herself being escorted once more to the Shinsengumi headquarters.

  * * * *

  Emmi knelt with her head bowed as Hijikata Toshizou read—with more than a little glee it seemed—the list of crimes she’d committed in the short time since she’d last been there.

  “Willful destruction of a valuable painted screen at the male teahouse Fujimoto-ro, causing a serious accident resulting in injuries to both the palanquin bearers and their passengers, willful destruction of multiple pieces of property and various physical assaults on patrons of the Inamoto-ro and finally, starting a violent confrontation that resulted in grievous physical injury to His Most Imperial Highness Nakagawa no miya Kaemon.”

  Emmi glanced up. Hijikata paused before delivering the fatal blow. “You do realize that last item alone is punishable by an immediate death sentence? Why Takeda-san failed to carry that sentence out on the spot is beyond me.” He paused again and turned his dark, deadly gaze to the captain of his fifth squad. “Enlighten me, Kanryuusai,” he said coldly.

  Takeda bowed until his forehead touched the floor. “Hijikata-san, I would never fail in my duty, but Nakagawa-sama requested that I bring the girl here. He also requested that I ask you to wait for his arrival before meting out any punishment.”

  Hijikata smirked then looked at Emmi again. “So it appears Buddha smiles down upon your miserable hide once more.”

  Lucky, lucky me, Emmi thought miserably as two surly guards took her away. Apparently part of ‘Buddha’s smiling upon her’ included all of the regular cells being filled, so they had to improvise by placing her in solitary confinement.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emmi sat in the humid, dark storage room off the kitchens and wondered how much time had passed since Hijikata had her placed in here to await Kae’s arrival. She glanced toward the tiny barred window at the far end of the shed but couldn’t really see the sky. It seemed that it was just beginning to lighten, but a few large paper lanterns had been strung around the compound, so she wasn’t quite sure about this light or its source.

  She tried to erase the image of Kae’s furious expression from her mind. Why did he blame her? It wasn’t as if she’d planned to have all that stuff happen. Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have gone busting through the Inamoto-ro, but she’d been scared. Those gorilla guys were after her, and she didn’t even want to think about what their slimy boss had planned for her back at his place. It had been obvious that he’d had her pegged for some new male prostitute or other, but once they found out she was a woman there was no telling what they would have done.

  What did the arrogant prince expect her to have done? Let them take her or try to go politely in the brothel and asked sweetly for Kaemon to come to the door and reason with the gorillas?

  As if that would have worked.

  Emmi sighed and leaned back against a pile of rice sacks. She closed her eyes while sending silent farewells back to Jake, her mother, her brother and her grandparents as she imagined her tombstone—

  Here Lies Emmi Maeda, Executed A Century Before She Was Born

  * * * *

  Though Kaemon pretended to rest in the palanquin that took him from the Imperial Palace to Mibu, he covertly peered across the carriage to his companion and personal retainer, Matsuyama, who had been conspicuously absent during the incident at Inamoto-ro.

  Supposedly Matsuyama had been so occupied with one of the new whores he hadn’t realized Kae had returned unexpectedly with Aneko and was involved in the commotion. That account did not agree with the one from off-duty Shinsengumi captain Takeda Kanryuusai.

  The palanquin stopped.

  “My Lord,” Matsuyama said. “We’ve arrived.”

  Kae sat up and made a show of rubbing the sleep from his eyes before following his retainer out of the carriage. They entered the Shinsengumi compound, where the chief officers and a few of the captains waited.

  Following an imperceptible nod of Kaemon’s head, Hijikata Toshizou instructed two of his men to escort Matsuyama away.

  “M-my Lord—”

  Minutes later, the girl was led in and Chief Kondo read the list of charges. Kaemon stared at her with the same deadly expression that he’d used when condemning his friend to death only moments before.

  Kae didn’t know what to make of her. More importantly, he was at a loss to explain this warring within himself about her punishment. It was entirely likely that she had been in league with Matsuyama all along. In fact, it was the only sensible conclusion, and yet something about her—that look in her eyes—swayed him as it had before. As damning as the evidence before him was, he felt in his heart that she was innocent. He broke off from his musing when Isami Kondo addressed him.

  “Nakagawa no miya-sama, by virtue of your station, it is your right to hand down sentence upon the accused.”

  Kae looked at her. She met his gaze boldly, so unlike he would expect of any woman, let alone one so close to a sentence of death.

  “It is clear to
me that Matsuyama had an accomplice in recent attempts upon my life.”

  He paused and studied her again. She was terrified and shaking, yet she held firmly to her control as only a true Maeda could. He continued.

  “The punishments that are my right to inflict are many—imprisonment, beating, execution—”

  “M-may I stand?” Emmi interrupted in a shaky voice. “My ankles are numb.”

  Kaemon nodded at her, and captains Saitou and Nagakura drew their short swords before taking positions closer to the exit doors lest she try to escape. She stepped back against the wall and placed her hand atop a red-lacquer box that rested on a wooden chest.

  Kaemon continued with his dark gaze centered upon his pretty oni, “As I said, the choices of punishment are many, and I am certain I could even demand crucifixion and not be denied—”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emmi’s knees seemed to give way with that pronouncement and the lacquer box, perched so close to the chest’s edge, could not support her. She stumbled. The box fell, hitting her and spilling its contents upon the tatami at her feet.

  She stared in morbid fascination at the colorful woodblock prints that littered the floor. They were what she could only describe as old-fashioned porn—men with men, with women, women together. It was like the big screen at that brothel, and the reality hit that she might be facing something similar before they killed her.

  Killed her.

  Raped her, then killed her.

  Maybe even crucified her.

  Her stomach heaved at the thought and emptied all over the prints at her feet.

  Vice-Commander Hijikata swore and shoved her out of the way so he could scoop up the unsoiled prints.

  Kae reached for the katana on the floor beside him, but he stilled the impulse and glared at Hijikata, who picked up his box and jammed the unmarred pictures back inside while ordering Emiko’s removal.

  “No,” Kae said in a tone that froze the two captains who’d advanced.

  “Toshi, why don’t you call for someone to clean this mess?” Kondo asked.

  Once he stepped through the door, the other vice-commander, Yamanami, approached Emmi with two cloths. He handed one to her, helped her to her feet, then placed the other on the floor. He looked to Kondo and offered a faint smile, clearly trying to ease the tension.

  “I told you your shunga collection would turn up sooner or later, Kondo-san.”

  Kaemon smirked. The ladies’ man, Hijikata, had clearly “appropriated” another man’s shunga collection for his own use. Kae turned his attention back to Emmi, who’d eased herself into a corner and was leaning back against the wall. He continued to stare at her, and she finally averted her gaze. Her knees gave way once more. She slid to the floor and lowered her head.

  Kaemon stood, and Kondo did as well.

  “Gentlemen, perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere.”

  On his way out, Kae asked the captains guarding the doors to allow Emmi a bit of privacy to compose herself.

  Blinking furiously to clear her eyes of the tears blurring her vision, Emmi watched them go. They were going to discuss the details of her execution, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She bit her lip and lowered her head once more.

  Uncle Jake, I wish you were here…

  With her eyes closed, her thoughts went to the scene she had witnessed as she was led from her solitary cell.

  ‘No one betrays me, Matsuyama, and lives. No one.’ Those softly spoken words had chilled Emmi to the bone as guards led her past the man she recognized as Kae’s friend—the friend who’d gotten them out of the brothel the night she’d arrived.

  The man had struggled only to be knocked to the ground, bound with rope and dragged away to a darkened corner. Light had glinted off a katana blade as it sliced through the air seconds after Kaemon’s former friend cried out for mercy…

  And she was next.

  Two strong hands clamped onto her arms and jerked Emmi to her feet, bringing her to face the livid Hijikata Toshizou confronting her. He was every bit the deadly, demon-like vice-commander her father once told her about. Her blood ran cold.

  He could kill her this instant, and no one would do a thing to him. He had the position and the respect so that anything he said to cover a murder would be believed.

  But Emmi would not let him see how scared she was. To keep from crying out, she clamped her jaws so tightly her teeth ached.

  “You listen to me,” he hissed. “There is something about you that’s not right. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find out what you’re up to with Nakagawa. Your woman’s tricks will get you only so far.”

  He was so close that Emmi could feel his breath on her skin, the heat of his anger seeping through his clothing.

  Kae stopped short the instant he set foot inside the door. His back stiffened at the sight of Hijikata holding Emmi. Though he couldn’t make out the low conversation, he was certain he heard something about a woman’s tricks. Was this how it was? Was she one of Hijikata’s many women being used to get close to him and get information on what was going on within the Imperial Palace?

  He stepped farther into the room. His hands rested lightly on the hilt of his katana with the right one poised, ready to draw in an instant.

  “Is there a problem, Hijikata-san?”

  Hijikata dropped his hands—and Emmi with them—and turned slowly.

  “Not at all,” he said with a curt bow. “I was simply advising Maeda-san to release any information, no matter how trivial she thinks it may be.”

  “Information on—?”

  “Any potential rebel plots, of course.”

  “Of course,” Kae said flatly. “Emiko, come with me.”

  His silence was driving her crazy. Apart from the bossy, ‘Emiko, come with me,’ he hadn’t said a word to her. If he’d wanted her dead, he’d have it done here and now as he had to that Matsuyama guy. What was going on? He led her to a palanquin, one so large it took four men to carry it.

  “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Get in.”

  Swallowing hard, she did.

  As soon as they were inside, the litter bearers took off at a quick, steady pace.

  Within the confines of the shadowy conveyance, Kaemon studied her like a bug under a magnifying glass, and Emmi felt certain that the sun must be streaming through that imaginary magnifying glass, because she felt like she was about to burst into flames. She turned her head to escape his unblinking gaze and noticed something familiar through the gauzy cloth covering the palanquin windows.

  Emmi turned back. He was still staring. “Why are we going through the Shimabara gates?”

  “This is where you will stay.”

  Her jaw sagged open. She hugged her arms around herself and felt like throwing up again.

  “You can’t do that! You can’t sell me to one of those places as punishment for whatever you imagine I did! I’m no prostitute, and I won’t be one!”

  “I could do that and more, and there isn’t a thing you or your family could do to stop me—providing you even have a family who care.”

  Emmi launched herself at Kae, tried to punch him and scratch his face. He deflected her and grabbed her wrists. As the palanquin jostled, the bearers struggled to compensate for the weight shift and movement.

  Emmi didn’t want to cry like a frightened child, but she felt very much like one at that moment. She blinked the tears back as soon as they formed.

  “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this to me.”

  “Why?” Kae asked, angling his face nearer hers. His dark gaze was all but paralyzing.

  “I don’t want to be a prostitute. I don’t want strange men touching me…”

  “You let me touch you.”

  “I… It wasn’t the same. You…” Her voice died, and she lowered her head.

  “No other man will touch you.”

  Emmi felt her breath catch in her throat. Slowly, she looked up. The power
in Kae’s eyes held her captive as firmly as his strong, rough hands held her wrists.

  The last thing she expected was for him to kiss her, but he did. He stared at her. The desire in his eyes was alive and almost frightening in its intensity. He drew her closer still, flicked his tongue across her lips to tease them apart before covering her mouth with his and claiming her. Then, without warning, it was over.

  He released her wrists, pulled away and stared at her a moment. The palanquin had stopped without her quite registering it, and he threw open the sliding door. He pulled Emmi out and led her to a side door of the brothel where the fight had occurred earlier.

  An older man and woman immediately let them in and ushered them up a short flight of stairs and down a dim hallway. In a set of connecting rooms, a girl was removing dust covers from the few pieces of furniture while another carried in a thick, folded futon and placed it in the center of the smaller room. A third girl rushed in carrying a number of garments, which she placed atop one of the low cabinets in the bedroom.

  “I want this tatami replaced as soon as possible,” Kaemon said. “And I want better screens. One for each room—light, bright colors.”

  The older couple bowed deeply. “Yes, Fujiwara-sama,” the man said.

  Still using the Fujiwara alias? Emmi wondered.

  “Have you secured a guard yet?”

  The woman bowed deeply. “We couldn’t find one worthy enough. Forgive us. We will find one tomorrow.”

  “Forget it,” Kae said. “I will secure my own in the morning. Tonight I will stay here myself. You may go. Send in some sake, tea and a few sweets.”

  The couple and their servants bustled out. Large floor lanterns, one in each room, cast a warm yellow glow, and Emmi couldn’t help but notice how handsome and noble Kae looked as he removed his longer sword and leaned it upright against the wall near the unrolled futon in the adjoining room. He said nothing but walked around the rooms until the serving girls brought what he had requested. When they left, he latched the shoji behind them then sat cross-legged in front of the food trays.