![]() I scanned the gathered mythics for Zak, then checked my phone, half listening to the family reunion. The Yamadas were ignoring me, so I returned the favor. His strikingly handsome features were unique, concealing his heritage, and he stood a head taller than anyone else in the group. Why was I surprised he could speak the language? I’d realized months ago that he was part Japanese-not that anyone could guess by looking at him. Kai bent in a shallow bow for the oldest man, who nodded and said something. The moment he was close enough, Hisaya burst into rapid Japanese. She gestured for me and Kai to join them.Ī sharp breath hissed through his clenched teeth, but he didn’t hesitate. Hisaya stood with a group of Japanese men and women, the only smiling face. Bouncers and assistants hovered around the dais. He was gesturing at the thick leather tome displayed on a table beside him. The white walls featured huge canvases of abstract compositions, soft spotlights illuminating the bright colors and thick strokes of the artist’s brush.Ī dais had been set up at the far end, where an elderly man at a podium spoke into a mic. On the second level, we followed the other stragglers into a dimly lit gallery room, filled with at least a hundred people. “We can wait outside or try something el-” ![]() “Are you sure?” I whispered as we strode for the stairs. ![]() His jaw flexed, then he clamped his arm around me again. “And that someone is upstairs at the auction?” “Because my family wouldn’t be present otherwise.” ![]()
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