Owl and the Japanese Circus (16 page)

Rynn shrugged. “I was short on time,” he said and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “Besides, she’s cute.”

“She’s an
idiot
.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on having any long, drawn-out conversations with her.”

I sat back. What the hell was I supposed to say? “I can’t believe that was the best idea you could come up with.”

He threw me a half smile. “Never pegged you as the jealous type.”

I glared. Rynn laughed.

“I still can’t believe you were a mercenary.”

“And I already told you I’m retired. This is a special favor. For Oricho.”

“Great. Good to know Oricho is paying you well enough to pick up university students and babysit me.”

His brow furrowed. “I said favor, not job. You know, for a thief you have one hell of a judgmental streak.”

I was about to comment on Rynn’s general level of sincerity in dealing with women when Captain got up and started straining to get his nose in the wind. I swear that cat is three-quarters dog.

Bindi turned around in the front seat and gave Captain a once-over.

“I’ve never seen a cat on a leash before,” she said. I got the distinct impression she didn’t like cats. Or maybe it was just Captain. He has that effect on some people. It’s never fun coming face-to-face with a house pet who’s smarter than you.

Bindi flashed both Rynn and me a big smile, but she lingered on Rynn. I forced back a cheerful smile. “Derrick” (aka Rynn) and I were supposed to be complete strangers.

“Charity, Derrick, we’re almost there, but we’re about to hit a rough patch of road. I’d put your shades on if you have them.” She winked at Rynn, and I caught him winking right back. My notice didn’t go unnoticed either.

“Role playing,” he mouthed at me.

I shook my head. He was pissing me off on purpose and enjoying it way too much. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re manipulating me. It’s not working.”

“Funny, from here it looks like it’s working spectacularly.” He winked and pulled his sunglasses down. “What can I say? I play to my strengths. I’m flattered you’re this jealous. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Goddamn it. I switched topics. “So, Kuto at night, all by yourself. I’m impressed. I’m not that brave.”

A whisper of a frown crossed his face. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

It was my turn to frown. “I mean Kuto is a supernatural hot spot. There are more succubi and incubi per square inch than there are in Ibiza.”

He faced me and lifted the mirrored aviators. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Whether you noticed or not, Kuto’s crawling with them. Count yourself lucky you didn’t run into any.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind next time,” he said offhandedly. He was silent for a moment. “You ever run into one?”

“Hmm?”

“Succubi and incubi. Have you ever run into one?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Vampires, dragons, naga, mummies, werewolves, whatever the hell Oricho and Lady Siyu are, vampires—”

“You said vampires twice.”

“That’s because it bears mentioning twice. Vampires are the supernatural cockroach.” I paused before asking, “Have you ever run into one?”

“Vampires? Who hasn’t? You said it, they’re like cockroaches.”

“No, succubi or incubi.”

Rynn shrugged. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his mirrored aviators. “Once or twice.”

I sat up a little straighter. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well, what happened?”

He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Rynn! You can’t just tell me you’ve run into them and hold all the details.”

He shrugged again, his face unreadable. “Didn’t strike me as particularly dangerous.”

I snorted. “Yeah, and that naga just wanted to say hi.”

I could see the lines forming in Rynn’s forehead. I’d said something that had gotten under his skin. Good, it was about time the tables were turned. He’d had me unsettled since our reunion in Tokyo.

He turned towards me, his mouth set in a terse line. “For someone who supposedly hates the supernatural, you do an awful lot of business with them. And ask a lot of questions.”

“It’s not my fault every supernatural creature I’ve ever run into has either tried to kill me or threatened to do so if I don’t hop, skip, and
jump for them. What’s not to hate? You can’t blame me for trying to be prepared.”

Rynn shook his head. “I just think you dismiss your choices as necessity a little too haphazardly.” And with that he changed topics. “So what’s the plan once we’re on site? Oricho didn’t give me many details besides ‘expect vampires’ and ‘try to dissuade her from anything that might get her killed.’ ”

No doubt Oricho used those exact words. “There’s a second tablet like the one we saw last night in Sanur. I’m guessing there are a few layers of inscription in the room as well. I’ll need a few minutes to transcribe. The two students who worked on the tablets are convinced I need both to get a working codex—a translation.” I hoped there might be some mention of this scroll’s theft from the emperor’s tomb or hint as to what it did. It was a long shot, but it was the only trace of the same language written on the egg that I’d found.

“I hope you don’t plan on repeating that explosion. One cave-in is enough for one day,” Rynn said.

I shook my head and opened my bag, exposing the hairspray bottle full of chicken blood. “I did some checking. Bad idea to use human blood on those ancient diagrams. Learn something new every day.”

Rynn snorted. I pictured him rolling his eyes behind the aviators.

“So . . .” I started, not entirely sure how best to broach the subject. “How do you know Oricho? And what is—”

Rynn grabbed the headrest of the seat in front of him and stood up. “Nope. Oricho will kill me,” he said.

Before I could add anything else, Rynn hopped into the front of the jeep right beside Bindi. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and whispered something that had her giggling like an idiot.

He raised a blond eyebrow and smiled back at me.

I shook my head. He wasn’t impressing me this morning.

I watched the road and kept an eye out for the temple. I was here to work, and there was no way I’d let Rynn get to me on a job.

Choices with the supernatural. Hah, like I had any. Roll over and die is not a choice.

Bindi hopped out of the front seat as Mark the redheaded American from the hostel pulled it to a stop. He was looking worse for wear this morning after my beer cocktail. Bindi was one of those girls who’d mastered talking to two people when she was really only talking to one, i.e. Rynn. She went right into “bestest little surfer girl tour guide mode.” A big part of me was pissed, but if Rynn kept up the distraction, I might have an easier time “getting lost” once we were in the tunnels.

I noticed Red head off towards the temple proper. He’d been quiet the whole way over. I wouldn’t have talked much either if I’d been navigating the potholes hungover.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked him.

He shook his head and tossed his dig pack over his shoulder. “Naw, I’ve got work to do. Besides, I don’t think I want to watch Bindi hit on that blond guy for the next few hours.”

“Yeah, join the club.”

He laughed. “Be glad you don’t live with her.” As an afterthought, said, “Benji didn’t say much about how he knew you.”

OK, Red wasn’t as dumb as he looked. I smiled my best sweet-girl smile. “I helped him out with some data analysis a while ago. We’ve kept in touch.”

He watched me as if not quite able to decide what box to stick me in. “Benji never struck me as someone who needed help with data analysis.”

I smiled wider. “I’m better with ancient forensics. He was having trouble with cause of death of a few Chilean mummies.”

“What was cause of death?”

“Decapitation by ritual axe,” I said as cheerfully as if I’d been reciting a cookie recipe.

Red looked like he was about to say something else, then shook his head. Smart move. Trust me, he didn’t want to know the real details.

“Look, I’m hungover and I’ve got to finish my excavation by the end of the week or my supervisor will have my hide. Benji said you were interested in catacomb inscriptions, yes?”

I nodded.

He motioned for my copy of the “official” dig map—without the newer side tunnels. He drew a handful of lines off the main tunnel with a red marker. “Bindi is planning on taking you guys down this main run. You want my advice? Take the third catacomb to the left, not one of the other ones. We don’t have them mapped out yet, and the ceilings aren’t stable—not by a long shot.” He marked a spot farther down the third hand-drawn tributary. “About five hundred meters down it forks—don’t go any farther. Both those tunnels get too close to the lava. A lot of water runoff comes back through fissures as steam. Trust me when I say it’s scalding. Instead, head up into this side tunnel.”

“Hey, Charity?” Bindi yelled.

I glanced back over my shoulder. She and Rynn were halfway up the hill.

Red nodded to me, slid his baseball cap on, and started heading up towards the temple. “Check out the side tunnel,” he said.

I threw Red a smile and caught up to Bindi and Rynn in time to catch the tail end of her history lesson.

“. . . archaeologists who uncovered the catacombs five years ago called them the Basuki, or dragon, catacombs for two reasons. One, they run under a volcano, and two, in a lava-sealed chamber they found a hoard of treasure.”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her high-pitched voice. If she hadn’t figured out by now it was a dragon lair, I had a lovely bridge to sell her. She could put a little toll booth on it and everything. Where was the IAA finding these idiots?

I feigned interest as Bindi looked me over. I didn’t have to pretend for very long, since she focused right back on Rynn.

Ever get the feeling someone is going through the motions pretending you’re a person?

As far as I could see, Rynn hadn’t done a thing today except flirt. He was supposed to be helping me find the tablet, not making a date.
Between keeping an eye out for the tunnel and an eye on Rynn and Bindi, I tripped over a groove in the tiled floor and stumbled, almost falling flat on my face.

Bindi glanced back at me. “You really need to watch where you’re going in here. Try to keep your eyes on the floor.”

Rynn snickered.

I frowned. That was it. Time to forcefully insert myself into the conversation.

“So Bindi, what happened to all that treasure?” I asked.

Bindi looked surprised, as if it hadn’t occurred to her that my mouth might move and sound might come out. “I’m not sure. My guess is the local museum—the Balinese are big on keeping their national treasures in Bali nowadays.”

Hmmm . . . really . . . now that
was
interesting.

Rynn must have caught the look on my face, because he shook his head and mouthed, “
No
” at me.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged back. Yeah, yeah—I was here for inscriptions, not treasure. I had bigger issues on my mind, like how to exit Bindi’s tour. I kept my eyes out for the tunnel entrances Red had described.

“These carved images over here are meant as a ceremonial instruction to people who worshiped Naga Basukian. Explaining the kinds of worship through the seasons . . .”

I had to stop myself from snickering. It was an instructional all right, on how to pick whom to feed next to the mountain dragon. Even a third-year archaeology student would know that.

“And these over here—” Bindi’s phone went off, and she checked the screen. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ve got to take this.” And with that she ducked off into a side tunnel a little ahead. Leaving Rynn and me alone.

Rynn didn’t miss a beat. “You aren’t here to steal national treasures.”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask. Besides, if I’m lucky, I’ll finish early.”

Rynn frowned and crossed his arms. “As soon as we finish, I’m throwing you back on a plane for Tokyo.”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” I said, only half joking.

Rynn moved faster than I could react. His arm wrapped my neck in a rear naked choke and he lifted me off the ground as I kicked out.

“Rynn, knock it off!”

He put me down, still wearing a dark, pissed-off look on his face. “Mercenary, remember?” he said.

I regained my footing. It hadn’t hurt—unless you counted my pride. “Yeah, fine, no stealing from the Balinese Museum. Got it. When the hell did you grow a conscience? And what the hell was that for?” I said, pointing to my throat.

Rynn propped his hand against the wall and leaned over me. “I like you, Owl. A lot. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I don’t like what you do for a living, and I don’t plan on helping you while I’m here. You can come back to Bali on your own time, not mine and Oricho’s.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help it. “You’re one to talk.” I nodded in Bindi’s direction. “What? Thieves like me are bad guys, but leading on girls like her is totally in your green zone? You’re supposed to distract her so I can sneak off and find the tablet, not pick her up.”

Rynn’s frown deepened. It struck me that this was a new pattern in our conversations. Pissing each other off. “Is that what you think? You don’t know anything about her. If you’d done any research, you’d know she picks up a different surfer every weekend in Kuto. I’m just another notch on her glorified surfboard to write home about.”

I was wading into sore territory. I should have stopped, but I didn’t. Instead I threw up my hands. “So what? This is a job, so that makes sleeping with her OK? I wonder why I’m even surprised. You’re already halfway to being a whore back in Tokyo.” I couldn’t keep the spite out of my voice. It surprised even me. As soon as I said it, I knew I’d gone too far. Way too far.

Rynn’s face twisted in a pained expression, and he leaned in until he was an inch away from my face. “I’m not here on a job. I’m here
because after talking to Oricho I was worried you were in over your head—and you
are
. And for your information, I didn’t sleep with her. If I’d slept with her, she’d have gotten rid of me already. I’m putting up with her idiotic advances because the idea of you being killed by your own stupidity and recklessness would be worse.” He spread his hands out and gave me a mock bow. “But at least now I know what you really think of me.”