Read Online Owl and the Japanese Circus by Kristi Charish - Free Book Online
Authors: Kristi Charish
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“No hard liquor.” The seven shots of Grey Goose from my last trip to Tokyo, and the catalogue of hazy memories, were still fresh in my mind.
Nadya tsked and pushed it right back. “No, you need a good few shots of vodka in you. Maybe it will kick-start your common sense.”
I grumbled but downed the shot. With Nadya you have to pick your battles. This wasn’t one of them.
“I’m not crazy. What I am is a hell of a lot better off than I was three days ago,” I said.
Nadya sniffed. “Three days ago you weren’t working for a dragon and who knows what else. What did you say this Lady Siyu looked like again?”
“No, three days ago vampires were trying to eat me.”
Nadya leaned over the bar, the blue light giving her face a ghostly cast. “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘out of the frying pan into the fire’? Besides, didn’t you say this Sabine was a vampire?”
“Yeah, but as far as I can tell she isn’t trying to eat me. I think she’s just trying to get to the scroll and steal it before I do. Still an improvement.” I needed to change the subject, so I pulled out my sparse file on the Bali dig and passed it over to her. For all my bravado, Nadya was the voice of reason.
“How’s business?” I said, yelling over the karaoke that a group of hostesses had started up. The businessmen were pouring in for the evening now, and Nadya’s servers had their hands full passing out drinks.
She shrugged. “Not so bad, could always be better?” She leaned across the table, adding, “And I’m not so easily distracted by idle conversation.”
I sighed. “Look, you’re right, I’m in way over my head, but besides ‘roll over and die,’ I don’t have a lot of options here. Now,” I said, tapping the file, “can you help me or not?”
She tried staring me down, and for a second I wondered if she was going to say no. Nadya knows when to bail. She can smell trouble—some kind of sixth sense. I, on the other hand, am a trouble magnet. It’s one of the reasons I got so screwed by the university and ended up a thief.
Nadya and I met in the same archaeology program, the one that stole two years of my research, handed it over to the up-and-coming postdoc, and hung me out to dry. Nadya had seen the ship sinking six months before me and had taken off while she’d still been able to affordthe plane ticket. It’s occurred to me on a number of occasions that I’d be a hell of a lot happier if I followed Nadya’s advice more often.
If she said no though, I wasn’t only screwed; I’d probably be dead. Not that I’d blame her one bit . . .
I nursed my beer as I held the stare. Finally, Nadya swore in Russian, broke off, and snatched the file from the bar. She took her time flipping through each page, until a table behind started to call her by name for drinks. She fixed them with a smile, yelled she was coming in Japanese, and slid me back the closed folder. “I can do it, but it’s tricky this time. And more expensive.”
I coughed and had to cover my mouth to stop from spewing Corona all over the bar. “What do you mean, more expensive? It couldn’t be easier. Call the dirty old man and tell him I have cash.” I pulled a clip of cash out and slid it across the table so she could count it—and so she could see I was serious. Nadya was a good friend, but business was business.
Nadya shook her head as she popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and poured four flutes. She handed one to me, downed the second, and sent the third and fourth with a waitress to the table. She wiped a drop of champagne from the corner of her mouth and shook her head. “Nuroshi heard about the Paris boys. He raised his price for working with you.”
“So? Tell him me and the vampires settled our differences.”
She snorted. “And omit the dragon, I suppose? Not likely.” She stepped around the bar to deal with her “privileged table”—basically the drinks cost the men extra in exchange for even more of
Nadya tsked and pushed it right back. “No, you need a good few shots of vodka in you. Maybe it will kick-start your common sense.”
I grumbled but downed the shot. With Nadya you have to pick your battles. This wasn’t one of them.
“I’m not crazy. What I am is a hell of a lot better off than I was three days ago,” I said.
Nadya sniffed. “Three days ago you weren’t working for a dragon and who knows what else. What did you say this Lady Siyu looked like again?”
“No, three days ago vampires were trying to eat me.”
Nadya leaned over the bar, the blue light giving her face a ghostly cast. “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘out of the frying pan into the fire’? Besides, didn’t you say this Sabine was a vampire?”
“Yeah, but as far as I can tell she isn’t trying to eat me. I think she’s just trying to get to the scroll and steal it before I do. Still an improvement.” I needed to change the subject, so I pulled out my sparse file on the Bali dig and passed it over to her. For all my bravado, Nadya was the voice of reason.
“How’s business?” I said, yelling over the karaoke that a group of hostesses had started up. The businessmen were pouring in for the evening now, and Nadya’s servers had their hands full passing out drinks.
She shrugged. “Not so bad, could always be better?” She leaned across the table, adding, “And I’m not so easily distracted by idle conversation.”
I sighed. “Look, you’re right, I’m in way over my head, but besides ‘roll over and die,’ I don’t have a lot of options here. Now,” I said, tapping the file, “can you help me or not?”
She tried staring me down, and for a second I wondered if she was going to say no. Nadya knows when to bail. She can smell trouble—some kind of sixth sense. I, on the other hand, am a trouble magnet. It’s one of the reasons I got so screwed by the university and ended up a thief.
Nadya and I met in the same archaeology program, the one that stole two years of my research, handed it over to the up-and-coming postdoc, and hung me out to dry. Nadya had seen the ship sinking six months before me and had taken off while she’d still been able to affordthe plane ticket. It’s occurred to me on a number of occasions that I’d be a hell of a lot happier if I followed Nadya’s advice more often.
If she said no though, I wasn’t only screwed; I’d probably be dead. Not that I’d blame her one bit . . .
I nursed my beer as I held the stare. Finally, Nadya swore in Russian, broke off, and snatched the file from the bar. She took her time flipping through each page, until a table behind started to call her by name for drinks. She fixed them with a smile, yelled she was coming in Japanese, and slid me back the closed folder. “I can do it, but it’s tricky this time. And more expensive.”
I coughed and had to cover my mouth to stop from spewing Corona all over the bar. “What do you mean, more expensive? It couldn’t be easier. Call the dirty old man and tell him I have cash.” I pulled a clip of cash out and slid it across the table so she could count it—and so she could see I was serious. Nadya was a good friend, but business was business.
Nadya shook her head as she popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and poured four flutes. She handed one to me, downed the second, and sent the third and fourth with a waitress to the table. She wiped a drop of champagne from the corner of her mouth and shook her head. “Nuroshi heard about the Paris boys. He raised his price for working with you.”
“So? Tell him me and the vampires settled our differences.”
She snorted. “And omit the dragon, I suppose? Not likely.” She stepped around the bar to deal with her “privileged table”—basically the drinks cost the men extra in exchange for even more of
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