“When I awake from such dreams, I usually suffer terrible disappointment that you are gone and I am alone,” the Dragon King said. “But now you have been restored to me in a way I never expected.” He mused, “When I kidnapped the shogun’s mother, I only took you along because you were with her, and obviously a high-ranking person who might be useful to my plans. Not until I got a closer look at you did I discover that you are the image of my beloved Anemone. And not until yesterday, when we first spoke, did I realize that you are possessed by her spirit.”
Reiko didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that he could distinguish her from the real Anemone. It might spare her the violent rage he’d expressed toward Anemone, but also lessen her influence over him. She was glad that stealing her wasn’t his reason for kidnapping the women and slaying their entourage, but horrified that her present peril was but an accident of fate. If only she’d refused to go on the trip! Better she should have faced punishment from Lady Keisho-in than disgrace and torture at the hands of the Dragon King. Yet there was no use wishing to go back in time and alter the future.
The Dragon King was watching her, awaiting a response. Hastily she improvised, “Last night I hardly slept at all. My mind was filled with thoughts of you. I kept remembering your touch, and your look, and the rapture of your nearness.”
Her words derived from vague memories of love poems she’d read; her fluttering eyelids and husky, breathless voice imitated the actors in romantic Kabuki plays she’d seen. The Dragon King stared at her; his breathing quickened, his tongue moistened his lips, and palpable waves of hot arousal emanated from him. Reiko’s insides churned with revulsion and fear as she wended closer to danger, but she clasped her free hand to her bosom, as if truly enraptured.
“I longed to see you. I prayed we would soon meet again,” she whispered. “How thankful I am that my prayers were answered, and we are reunited.”
The Dragon King caressed her cheek. “Your death parted us twelve long years ago. But even before then, we were divided. That man-whose very name I despise-came between us.” Anger welled in the fiery gaze that devoured Reiko. The Dragon King’s hand tightened painfully around hers. “He wasn’t worthy of you, Anemone. He was a cruel, selfish cad who was only toying with you. How could you take him as your lover? How could you forsake me?”
Reiko wondered who this man could be, and what he might have to do with the kidnapping. “I never loved him,” she said, because this seemed the best way to avoid the Dragon King’s savagery. “You’re the only one who matters to me.”
Now tears quenched the rage in the Dragon King’s eyes. “Ah, my dearest. That man deprived us of so much.” Clouds moved over the balcony as rain trickled through the foliage; a shadow crossed his expression. “If only I could make up to you for those lost years, and the life stolen from you.”
Here Reiko spied opportunity. “Perhaps there is something you can do,” she murmured.
“What is it you wish, my dearest?” His grip on her hand relaxed into moist fondling.
The plan Reiko had devised to free herself and the other women from the Dragon King must wait, because Midori’s plight took precedence. “My friend is ready to bear her child,” Reiko said. “I wish to have a midwife for her.”
To her distress, Reiko felt the Dragon King withdraw from her, although his body stayed in place. A barrier lowered behind his gaze. “That is out of the question,” he said brusquely. “I cannot allow some woman to come here, then tell others what she’s seen.”
He had a sense of self-preservation despite his madness, Reiko understood. Even though he was deluded enough to think she embodied the spirit of Anemone, he knew he’d committed serious crimes for which the Tokugawa would punish him if he got caught. He recognized his need for secrecy.
“But my friend needs help. She and the baby may die otherwise.” Reiko saw the annoyance flicker across her companion’s features, and realized he didn’t care what happened to Midori. Altering course, she curved her lips into a seductive smile and eased closer to him. “You are such a good, kind, generous man. Surely you wouldn’t let an innocent woman and child come to harm?”
“I’d like to grant your wish, but it’s impossible,” the Dragon King said, his voice hardening. “Besides, we’re far from anyplace where a midwife might be found.”
Reiko’s heart sank at the implication that they were also far from anyone who might rescue her. “Would you at least move us to a better room?” Comfort might help Midori, and if Reiko could get away from the tower, escaping might be easier. “The roof of the tower leaks. The rain falls on me. It’s too cold at night, and too hot in the daytime.” Reiko peered at the Dragon King from beneath demurely lowered eyelids and coaxed, “This is a small thing that I ask.”
The Dragon King shook his ungainly head. “It pains me to deny you, but I must. The tower is the easiest place to guard prisoners. You and your friends are secure there.”
Reiko was frantic because all her wiles had done nothing except encourage the Dragon King’s attachment to her. Winning his trust seemed impossible. Was her plan doomed to fail? Would her ruin be for naught? Then inspiration struck.
“There’s something I must tell you,” Reiko murmured. She crooked her finger at the Dragon King. Her smile promised intimate revelations. She felt like a Yoshiwara courtesan wooing a client. “Lean close, and listen.”
She knew Ota and the other guards were eavesdropping, and she didn’t want them to hear. The Dragon King inclined his head toward her. Reiko whispered in his ear: “You are surrounded by enemies. They’re here on this island, among your men.”
The Dragon King shot her a sidelong glance of surprise.
“They don’t approve of your relations with me,” Reiko whispered. “They’re jealous. They want to separate us. Last night I heard them talking. They’re plotting to kill me.”
“This can’t be. My men have orders not to harm you or your friends without my permission.” But consternation tinged the distrust with which the Dragon King beheld Reiko.
“It’s true,” Reiko said, hastening to play upon the doubts about his authority over his men and the fear of betrayal that she sensed in him. “They’re going to kill me, throw my body in the lake, then tell you that I ran away.”
His brows slanted downward in distress. “Ota and the rest of my personal retainers would never go against my wishes. But the other men… ” He fingered his chin, brooding. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have employed people of their kind. I’ve never quite trusted them.”
Reiko was gratified to have planted a seed of suspicion that would poison the Dragon King’s mind toward his henchmen. “I don’t want to die,” she said. Tears of genuine desperation spilled from her eyes. “Please, you must protect me!”
He conceded with a decisive air: “Yes, I must.”
Encouraged, Reiko said, “Then please keep your men away from my friends and me.” Getting rid of the guards would benefit an escape attempt. “Put them where they can’t hurt us.”
“But I can’t leave you unguarded,” the Dragon King said as rational thought penetrated his fear of treachery.
“I promise I won’t run away,” Reiko said. “Now that we’ve found each other again, I can’t bear to leave you.”
“Even if you stay, your friends will escape.”
“They’re too afraid to go without me,” Reiko said. “And you can move us all someplace where you can watch us yourself.”
The little influence she had over the Dragon King was more than she had over the guards. The odds that she could trick one madman outweighed the chance that she could fight past his army. Wherever else he put the women was bound to be less secure than the tower, and possibly closer to the boats.