And even though she no longer felt that she was in danger, she couldn't shake the feeling that her personal s.p.a.ce had been invaded. It wasn't a feeling she enjoyed, by any means.

She glanced at the light sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. She should turn it off and go to sleep. But at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted the room to be dark.

Annja closed her eyes and thought about the sword-her sword-and instantly it came to mind. She reached out for it and wrapped her hands around the hilt but didn't draw it out.

It was there if she needed it.

But why hadn't she thought about using it when she was in the tub? Why hadn't she immediately pictured the sword, and then come running out of the bathroom ready to slice and dice whoever stood before her?

It didn't make sense.

Unless she hadn't been in danger after all.

More questions that Annja didn't feel much like pondering. At least right then.

She turned out the light and settled back closing her eyes. Sleep was just what she needed.

The ringing phone sat her bolt upright as if someone had fired a gun in the room.

She clawed for the receiver and bounced it off its cradle.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Good evening, Annja. I take it you're not asleep just yet?"

The last person she'd expected to get a phone call from in the middle of the night was speaking to her from G.o.d knew where. Knowing him, he could be in Antarctica or at a Star-bucks coffee shop. Annja sighed.

"h.e.l.lo, Garin," she said.

6.

"It does sound as though I woke you. My apologies," Garin said.

Annja stretched out in the bed. Her toes touched the footboard. Still, she enjoyed the lengthening of her body. She exhaled in a rush and let herself go slack.

"It's late. I was headed off to dreamland when you called. What can I do for you? How did you-?"

"Please, Annja, let's not waste time on such trivialities. Technology being what it is today, and money always the most powerful enabler, it was no obstacle to uncover your whereabouts on your supposed vacation."

"So much for anonymity." Annja frowned. She was going to splurge and invest in a fake pa.s.sport and credit cards one of these days.

"You feeling better after your compet.i.tion?" Garin asked.

Annja sat up. "You know about that, too?"

"Certainly. Nice side kick, by the way."

Annja glanced around her room. "You're starting to annoy me now, Garin. I don't like the thought of people poking into my personal affairs. In fact, if it keeps up, I'm liable to be pretty d.a.m.ned cranky the next time we meet. I don't need to tell you what that would entail."

"I can guess." Garin chuckled on the phone. "Which brings me precisely to that very point. We need to meet."

"Why? Last I heard you were on an extended journey to reclaim some degree of secrecy so Roux doesn't track you down and kill you for trying to kill him while he was trying to kill you for...whatever. I don't even know how you two keep score of that silliness."

"Yes, well, certain matters preclude me from worrying about my personal safety at this point." He paused. "It's important that I see you."

Annja shook her head. The darkness of the room embraced her. She felt a little cold and pulled the covers up higher. "I'm not leaving j.a.pan yet. Possibly not for a while yet, in fact."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I'm involved in something here. Something that interests me a great deal. Not that such things are any of your business."

"Something? Or is it someone someone, Annja?"

"Mind your own business, Garin. I won't tell you again."

"As I recall, you owe me your life. That's not exactly the kind of grateful att.i.tude I'd expect from someone like yourself."

"This conversation is boring me. I'm in j.a.pan. You want to meet up, come and find me. Otherwise don't bother. I'm busy."

Annja hung up the phone and then unplugged it from the jack in the wall. That would at least guarantee that she'd be able to sleep through the night without Garin ruining her rest.

Unless he called her cell phone, too.

Annja groaned and clambered out of bed, padded to the small stand by the door and shut off her cell phone. Now she was cut off. Completely.

Unless Garin happened to knock on her door.

Annja stopped. Was it possible that Garin was the one who'd been in her room earlier? Had he sneaked in when she was bathing? But she knew Garin was enough of a jerk that he would pick the perfect time to do whatever he wanted to do and still grab an eyeful of Annja soaking naked in the tub.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

She climbed back into bed and pulled up the covers. In moments, she was fast asleep. And not once did she dream about Garin.

THE FIRST THING SHE SAW in the morning was the folded slip of paper someone had slid under her door during the night. How had she not heard that? in the morning was the folded slip of paper someone had slid under her door during the night. How had she not heard that?

She sighed and got out of bed. Perhaps her run-in with Nezuma yesterday had dampened her senses as much as it had her body.

Unfolding the slip of paper, she read:

"Come down for breakfast in the lobby. G."

"So much for being halfway across the world from him," Annja said. "Figures."

Twenty minutes later she'd showered and applied the minimal makeup she normally wore. Dressed in jeans and a white blouse, she chose a pair of black flats rather than heels. Somehow, time spent with Garin always contained the potential for gunfire, car chases, explosions, bodies and lots of running.

Annja rode the elevator down to the lobby and when the doors parted, she could look right across into the restaurant. Garin was immediately noticeable. And not just because he stood a foot above anyone else in the area. Garin was d.a.m.ned good-looking. As she entered the eatery, he looked up and smiled.

He stood as she approached and kissed her on the cheek. "How is my favorite historical descendant?"

"Is that what you're calling me now?" Annja sat and ordered a cup of black coffee. "I would have thought you had other names for me."

Garin shrugged. "There are some, but I wouldn't use them in mixed company. You know, I'm nothing but a complete gentleman."

"How nice." Annja sat back and crossed her arms. "You look good for dodging Roux's repeated attempts on your life."

Garin waved his hands. "That gets rather mundane after all the time I've been alive. We've been after each other for so long it almost gets routine. Then we have our cease-fires and our detentes, and then something happens and we go at it again. Blah, blah, blah. Silliness."

"Yeah, those bullets are really overrated."

Garin leaned forward. "And not at all the reason I wanted to see you, my dear."

The waitress brought coffee and Annja ordered two eggs, toast, orange juice and melon slices. Garin ordered an aged Scotch whisky.

Annja grinned. "That's some breakfast you're getting."

He shrugged. "I'm on another time zone. And where I'm at, it's perfectly acceptable to have a drink to take the edge off."

"You just got in, then," Annja said.

"Something like that." He spread his arms. "Besides, I'm in phenomenal shape. For five hundred years old? You wish you'd look this good when it happens to you."

"I have no desire to live that long."

Garin frowned. "I said the same thing. Funny how fate just flips you the bird any time she feels like it."

"Such talk. Where were you before this?" Annja asked.

"I'm a man of many places and locales. I don't distinguish between them if I can help it."

Annja took a sip of her coffee. "I love the fact that my conversations with you usually entail a great deal of frustration on my part because you don't ever give me anything concrete to go on. You answer questions with questions and never confirm or deny anything. You're like a politician without an office."

Garin bowed his head. "Thank you for the compliment."

Annja laughed.

"The man you met last night." Garin smiled at her. "What is his name-Kennichi?"

Here we go, Annja thought. No middle ground, just right into it. "What about him?"

"Do you know who he is?"

"No, I liked the idea that he was a complete stranger. It made the unsafe s.e.x all the better." She shook her head. "He told me his story."

"And you believe him."

Annja sighed. "I haven't really known him long enough to say one way or the other, Garin. We met, had dinner, he beat the c.r.a.p out of some gangsters and that was it."

"Let's not forget what he asked you to help him do."

Annja narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

Garin laughed. "You're not going to sit there and lie to me. Really now, after all we've been through, you're not going to feign ignorance to that question, are you?"

"My ignorance, as you put it, is genuine," Annja said, immediately regretting the poor choice of words.

Garin sniffed as if he'd caught wind of a skunk. "Your ability to lie convincingly needs much improvement, Annja. But if that's how you want to play this, fine. I'll do the talking and you can sit there and listen."

"That would be a refreshing change," she replied sarcastically. Annja leaned back and crossed her arms, waiting for Garin to begin.

His whisky arrived and he took it with a word of thanks in j.a.panese to the waitress who stared at him in awe. Garin waved her away as if she were a pesky fly, but Annja could already see that the waitress was enthralled. If the big man knew it, he showed no signs of being interested.

Garin sipped from the gla.s.s and seemed to savor it for just a moment before swallowing, and then looked right at Annja. "Ninja are very very dangerous people, my dear."

"So I've heard."

"You haven't heard the half of it. Yes, there are still families in existence. Anyone telling you different is a moron. But along with the overt families who teach the system to anyone who shows an interest, there are also more covert families who still engage in many shady things."

"Like what?"

"Remnants from the ultranationalistic groups like the Black Dragon Society that dominated the political scene in the latter part of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Their subtle and terrifying manipulation of government affairs earned them lethal reputations that were well-deserved."

Annja c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "And they employed ninja?"

"Absolutely. Not the do-gooders that you read about today, but mercenaries who hired themselves out to the highest bidder. In this case, some of the ninja families had goals in line with their employers. The result was a marriage of sorts that cemented relationships and expanded empires. Much of what occurred in the last twenty years in j.a.pan is due to the groundwork laid by these families immediately after World War II."

"What does this have to do with me?" Annja asked.

Garin took another sip of his whisky. "You may be inadvertently helping the wrong side regain that artifact. If you're not completely certain of this man's ident.i.ty, then by helping him, you could be undermining the rightful owner."

Annja looked up as her food arrived. She bit into the eggs and drank down some of the juice. "So, you're saying Ken may not be who he says he is."