Page 9 of The Dragon 2
Only the sound of the jet engine hummed.
Then, slowly, Rin gave a nod. “You win this round, Reo.”
“I’m not here to win.” Reo returned his attention to the map. “I’m here to make sure we don’t burn the wrong world down.”
Several seats near Reo sat Satoshi with a glass of milk in his hand. He didn’t speak, just cracked his knuckles one at a time as if each pop were a countdown to someone’s execution.
In the rear lounge, the Claws flanked a silent Hiro, who hadn’t spoken since we picked him up. Daisuke told me that they had buried Nura’s body but he would not say where or how.
Hiro’s face was stone but his fists were bloodless from clenching too long.
Sighing, I tried to focus on the map again.
On the Ashen Blocks.
On The Pale Gate.
On the pins I’d placed—promises of war.
However, my hand hesitated over Ironport.
Not because of strategy.
But because of her.
Nyomi and that kiss I took from her willing mouth. I could still feel the shape of her lips pressed into my bottom one, the taste of her breath still lingering like plum and thunder.
She’d given me a precious gift that night—silk threaded with quiet power—that I still had tucked within my jacket’s secret pocket and right next to my heart.
She was under my skin, in my bloodstream, pressed between the pages of every war plan I tried to read. And no matter how sharp the strategy or how brutal the path—my thoughts kept finding their way back to her.
Reo looked up at me. “Kenji.”
I frowned.
“What do you think?”
They all waited for my word.
Then. . .my phone buzzed.
The moment I saw her name everything else dropped away.
I rose from my seat. “I have to take this.”
Reo quirked his brows. “Who is it?”
“My Tiger.”
Reo’s expression flickered from business to something warmer. A knowing smile spread across his face. “Then we should let the men rest. We’ll return to the plans after we land.”
I nodded once, stood, and then pressed the phone to my ear. “Tora?”
Silence.
My heart—trained for gunfire—skipped a beat.
“Tora. Are you okay? Are you in danger?” My voice was already changing; deepening, tightening. I looked to the back of the plane, calculating how fast we could turn this jet around. If necessary, I’d make sure the damned pilot had us back in Tokyo in under two hours.
