Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(94)

She nodded. “I do that as well.” She drew a pair of soft, straight-legged black trousers up her slender legs. The material was deceiving, stretching, easily moving with her body. She added a red silk blouse and picked up an intricate belt. She smiled and handed it to him.

Sam took the belt into his palm, lifting it carefully to weigh it. The belt was made of several strands of woven rope. The weave was artwork, decorative and attractive. The belt buckle was small to fit her size, a flat silver, sturdy, with what appeared to be a sunburst carved into it. “Very lightweight.”

“And handy. The rope can hold up to a thousand pounds and yet is easily shot from a crossbow to be used as an anchor to reach another building. The belt buckle is actually a throwing star, or, in a pinch, a grappling hook, reinforced titanium.”

“Very handy. That’s my woman, the walking arsenal.”

She laughed softly. “That’s not the half of it.” The belt went around her narrow waist and she bent to pull on socks.

“Are those made of explosives?”

Her dark eyes regarded him soberly. “I thought of that, but no, too difficult to get to.” She straightened and took a ring from the nightstand, slipping it on her finger. The ruby stone was small, yet it sparkled when she moved her hand. “A tiny amount of powder that can render temporary blindness.”

Sam shook his head and caught up his clothes. She really was a walking arsenal and, God help him, all the sexier for it. He watched her reach for her ruby earrings. They dangled delicately from her ears, twin fiery stones at her lobe and several rounded pearls on the end of five braided chains. He raised his eyebrow. No way did he believe the simple jewelry was just that.

She sent him another smile. She touched the white balls at the end of the chains. “These are not real pearls, just shells to house the ammunition for my blow gun. It gives me ten extra needles in a fight.”

“I’m getting another hard-on just thinking about you with all those weapons.” His hand snaked out, fingers settling around her wrist. He tugged until she was between his legs. “How am I going to get through the day knowing you’re so damned sexy, woman?”

Her eyes, heavy-lidded, drifted over his face and down his body, clearly marking him as her territory. “The same way I will. I look forward to our evening together.”

“I know there’s no public displays of affection,” Sam said as he buttoned his jeans, “but if it gets too bad, don’t be surprised if I drag you into a closet and tug those trousers down.”

Her eyes jumped to his face. “You are a very brave man, Sammy.”

“You have no idea what I’m willing to sacrifice if it means more sex with you.”

Laughter danced in her eyes as she secured a necklace around her neck. A single pendant hung from the slender chain. “I will look forward to an adventure in the closet,” she said with a demure sweep of her lashes.

“That has to be a knife of some kind.” The pendant was short, no more than an inch and a half, shaped like a very slender heart. “Is it made of ceramic?”

“Every lady needs one.”

He stepped close to examine each piece of jewelry. The craftsmanship was amazing, the details simplistic but appealing. He raised his eyebrow. “You?”

“My father was renowned and I learned from him.” She pushed a bracelet made of thin spirals of twisted hemp onto her wrist. The bracelet was quite unique but attractive. She held up her arm. “For my bow or crossbow. I can assemble one in under a minute.” She reached for a second bracelet, which she pushed close to the first, a wrap of strands of beads.

Sam didn’t have to be told that was a weapon, he’d seen warrior beads before, but hers looked ornate, very beautiful with carved beads. No one would ever suspect that the bracelet was lethal.

Azami added a slim, beautifully crafted watch to her left wrist. He raised his eyebrows.

She laughed. “A lady has to have some secrets.”

On top of everything, she looked beautiful in her red silk blouse and black suit trousers. He could see how she could move fast and easily dressed as she was. The blouse was loose-fitting enough that she could have a few knives placed strategically if she was going into battle.

She reached for her shoes. Boots, he corrected himself. Stylish. Low heels with fancy grills going up the front of the pair. He studied the eyelets made of strong metal—titanium? Definitely more than boots, but he had no idea what—only that in Azami’s hands, they would be lethal.

Azami swung around as a soft vibration accompanied the flash of a strobe light throughout the room. Sam, who had looked lazy and content, leapt off the bed and dragged on clothes fast. She didn’t ask questions but hurried into her jacket, shoving knives into the specially made sheaths. Jamming a gun down into one boot, she added a knife to the second.

Sam shoved the floor rug aside and yanked open a trapdoor in the floor. “Move it, Azami, now.” He stepped back to allow her to precede him.

Azami didn’t hesitate. She went down the stairs fast, using the rail to slide into the basement, Sam right behind her. She waited in the darkness. She could see, another “gift” from Whitney’s enhancements, probably the cat DNA. The basement looked like any man’s basement: tools, pegboards, and workbenches. She remained absolutely still—waiting.

Sam went to the side wall closest to them and ran his palm over what appeared to be a light switch. She would bet it actually turned on a light too. A door built into the wall swung open without a sound. Small trace lights ran along a tunnel. This time Sam went in first. Azami followed him in silence. She flexed her fingers and ran a checklist over her body, ensuring every muscle was stretched and limber, ready for anything.