The girl couldn't have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three, with dark skin and darker eyes. Her neckline was low and her makeup was garish, but it was a nightmare vision of seduction Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes were slightly sunken. "Please, you must help me." Her Japanese was atrocious, and Sae had to strain to understand her. "I was promised a job. Talking to people."

"It's not the talking we have a problem with." Hata's voice was rough and unsympathetic. He was, as he liked to remind Sae, thirty years her senior and not best pleased with having to take the new girl fresh out of law school under his wing. "But being a whore is very illegal. You understand the word, don't you?"

"Mr. Okaba, he makes me do things. Says I have a debt to repay."

"A debt?" Horror filled Sae. It was one thing to hear her father's stories about what could happen to unlucky girls. It was another to see it. "You're slave? We have to—"

Hata's grip on her shoulder was like a vise. "A word, Ms. Niijima. In private." He almost dragged her to the break room.

"We have to help her," Sae said, with as much force as she could muster when they were alone. "That's what this office is for."

He laughed, but it was bitter and broken. "We make the politicians feel all nice and comfy and we don't take cases we can't win."

"But he's selling a woman! There's no justice in this."

"Who has money and would sue us if we tried to arrest him. Book the girl and get an easy win." He put a hand on her shoulder. "It's all just a game. Justice has nothing to do with it."

Sae blinked and was once more in the present, staring at the files Futaba had retrieved from the prosecutor's office. She had never seen that girl again and had tried not to think of her as she rose ever higher on those easy wins Hata had advised. Hata himself had resigned in disgrace along with most of the rest of Special Investigations after Shido was arrested. And Sae was here, trying to find all she could about a host club so she could pretend to be a very bored, very lonely woman and get some information.

Well, that shouldn't be too hard, said Leviathan. The world already thinks that's what you are. You might as well embrace it. That's your trouble. Always trying to swim against the current, but you just don't have what it takes. Might as well get the benefits of living down to your mediocrity.

The Shadow or whatever it was inside Sae's head must have been very upset with her plans, because the voice had become both more frequent and more scornful. Sae did her best to ignore it. Some days were easier than others.

Fuki's was to all appearances a legitimate club owned by Okaba's entirely legitimate corporation. It differed from other host and hostess clubs only in serving both men and women, on separate floors. She and Akira would be visiting to see if they could find a way into the mythical gambling den. "Almost like a date," Akira had said with a tight smile. "Where we don't see each other. And flirt with other people."

Akira emerged from the bedroom, but he didn't look like Akira. She had found a suit for him, dark and nondescript as any salaryman's. He had slicked his hair and brushed it away from his eyes. Sae inhaled. And he was wearing the glasses again. She had forgotten how different he looked with them: meek, inscrutable, someone her gaze would pass over because there was no reason for her not to. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched, as if he were already trying to disappear. "How do I look?" He even sounded the same way he had when she had stopped for coffee at Café Le Blanc.

"Like a perfect little office worker too busy and terrified to talk to girls." She motioned to his glasses. "Can you take those off for now?" And all the rest of it too. Sae had known there was something wrong with this strange boy five years ago the first time she had walked into the café. At the time, she thought it was because he was a delinquent. Now she knew it was because he had been shoving down the best parts of himself to stay out of trouble—to stay beneath her notice. "I prefer the real you. Easier to talk to."

"And other things." He put the glasses on a side table and loosened his tie. "Always hated these things. Feel like I'm going to choke."

"Good thing you're a freelancer."

"Good thing." His eyes darkened and Sae knew she had said the wrong thing. One million yen gone, just like that. Akira had said he wasn't doing it for her—and Sae chose to believe him to keep herself sane—but if she had never called him, he would still have his emergency fund. He could have afforded a month here or there when work dried up. He would never have had to work for twelve hours a day and a job he couldn't stand, nodding and smiling and watching his free time burn up socializing with colleagues who wanted to be home as bad as he did. Never shove himself back into that little box again.

You are poison to everyone you ever cared about. Makoto being blackmailed was your fault. Akira went to juvenile hall because of you. And now, he's broke too. You might as well pay for the company. At least he would be getting something for it.

He softened. "It's okay," he said and put his arms around her. Sae sank into the warmth and strength of his chest. Over the past few days, they had learned that physical intimacy could silence the voices for a time. Sometimes that meant a repeat of that first night, with sex that left them exhausted and satisfied and mindless. And sometimes it was just holding and being held. She burrowed her nose into his neck and enjoyed the feel of his hands on her hair. This isn't for sale. He wants me, and I want him.

"We should go," he said at last. "Those hosts and hostesses aren't going to chat up themselves." He pulled back. "Why can't Okaba be involved in something nice and nonthreatening, like cage fighting?" He ran his hands over her arms. "Nervous? Makoto kind of lost it whenever she had to act."

"It's not really my area of expertise," she admitted.

"The key to a good con is to know what people expect you to be and do that. Just act really overworked, like nobody listens to you, and that you want nothing more than the world than to have somebody to complain to."

So exactly what she had been before, mixed with a little of that woman from the jewelry store. She took a deep breath. You're in luck, Leviathan. I'm going to let you out. She stepped close and ran her fingers over the lines of his chest. "Don't have too much fun," she whispered. She kissed him, angling her mouth the way he liked and nibbling on his lower lip until she tore whimpers and gasps from his throat. This was real, this was what she wanted. They would come back to the hotel and she would muss his hair and make love to him until there was no trace of the things they were pretending to be left.

Half an hour later, Sae stood outside of Fuki's and tried not to throw up. Men and women from all walks of life thronged on the street as bouncers with high-necked collars kept watch over the two-story building. There was no sign of Akira, and Sae patted her pocket to double check her phone. Everything was going to be fine. Okaba would want their money. He had never met either of them. No reason to remember the name of a junior prosecutor who had never even gotten close to him. She would be perfectly safe.

She wondered if this was how Makoto had felt.

The bouncer gave her a glance up and down, taking in her blazer and pants, but barely looking at her face. "Second floor. Two drink minimum. It costs extra if you want to talk sex."

Sae took the elevator to the second floor and was ushered into a dimly lit room with pulsing music. Some poor man was on stage trying to do a comedy sketch involving a rubber chicken, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Dozens of men and women sat talking at tables, seemingly heedless of anything but their conversation and their drinks. Women dressed much as she was, in blazers and slacks or skirts. The hosts looked about Akira's age, with silver jewelry that glinted neon in the light and bleach blond hair. As if she needed a reason to feel more self-conscious. She was ushered into a table in the back corner and picked a host more or less at random.

His stage name was Phoenix, he said, after the Featherman character. He was as blonde as the rest of them, with short, spiky hair and a deep tan. He had a soft, pleasant, laugh and a smile that was more cute than enthralling.

"And what is a lovely woman such as yourself doing in a place like this?" He leaned forward and put his hand next to hers, not quite touching but letting her know it was allowed. Absolutely nonthreatening and absolutely interested. He probably got a lot of commissions that way.

Be what he expected. Right. She could do this. "Just looking to unwind. Work is, well, a bitch." She looked around. "This is my first time in this kind of place. I was expecting something a little more exciting." Please tell me where I can find the illegal gambling.

"We aren't entertaining you? I must rectify that immediately. I have some special talents." He produced a pack of cards from a hidden pocket. "Pick a card."

"Excuse me?"

His mask slipped a little. "I used to entertain my little sister with card tricks. Some of the other guests love it."

Keep him talking. Whatever you do, keep him talking. She touched his hand and tried to laugh. It sounded harsh and forced. How did this normally work? All these women talking and laughing and so desperate for affection. She just had to be one of them. And at least one entity in the room thought she already was. All right, show me what I would be if Akira had never come. You are me, after all.

The laughter in her head was hers but higher and more bitter. She saw the bottles of champagne and Phoenix's pretty face. All here for her benefit because she had paid for the privilege. There was no love or justice, only petty pleasure. Didn't she deserve that much? She had paid for his time and she was going to get it.

Isn't this so much easier than fighting against current?

Easier. And empty.

She grabbed his hand. "Show me."

But when he took the deck in hand, Sae forgot how to breathe. His index finger was on the side of the deck facing away from her, the other three fingers on the right, and his thumb on the left. Standard mechanic's grip, known by every card cheat and dealer in the world. Easy to slip in a card or two off the top. "You look like a gambler," she said smoothly.

"I been known to deal a hand or two of cards in my time. In fact, if you really want some excitement around here, that can be arranged. I—"

That was when she saw him. Okaba. He hadn't changed much from the photographs of all those years ago. As tall and thin as Kaneshiro was short and fat, with thick brows and a square jaw. His suit was bright red and he wore a gold chain around his neck. Her gaze went to his prosthetic fingers. He'd lost the real ones years ago when he was a shatei for some unknown failure. The rumor was that he'd had the man responsible chopped to pieces and thrown into the river after he had ascended the ranks.

Phoenix followed her gaze and frowned. "Well, somebody put the boss in a foul mood," he muttered under his breath. "Hope it wasn't Anya."

"Who's Anya?"

He blinked, and could almost see him fighting a curse. "No one of consequence. People like you and me, we're all about the fun, right?"

"We are indeed. And I believe you are about to tell me where I could find some fun? I do so love cards. Very bad at it, though."

"As you should be. Cards and roulette are illegal. But at Fuki's, we do strive to give the customer what she wants. You might try the basement, if you can get a pass card. And perhaps formal wear. We do of course appreciate generosity. But of course, that's just me talking."

"And I appreciate good service. And good company." She ordered another drink. "We must play together sometime. I'm sure you would be an excellent partner. As long as you promised to go easy on me."

"How could I not? You'll have to speak to one of the bouncers, though." His words were starting to slur. "I like you. At least you keep your hands to yourself, mostly. Some of the women, here..."

I think you should stick to card tricks. You're a sweet boy, too sweet for this place. She sipped her drink for another ten minutes and left with a smile and a promise of a bottle for next time. And all around her, the terrible, desperate laughter.

She and Akira had set a rendezvous point for a dingy little alley half a block away. Akira was already there, leaning against the wall and looking as if he had had about as much fun as she had. He looked up at her approach. "Sae!" She let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as he came to her. He smelled faintly of cheap booze, and he still looked all wrong, but at least he didn't seem to be hurt. The thrumming music of the club faded away, and the world seemed a little sharper, a little more real.

"We have got to get that pass card," he said when she had told him what she'd learned. "I don't think any of the hosts or hostesses have one. The girls I was with didn't mind talking about the gambling den once they were drunk enough, but nothing about a pass card." His face turned scarlet. "And trust me, they were very… eager to answer."

"Have fun, did you?" She smiled despite herself. "Weren't you the one telling me about a good con?"

"Apparently I can only flirt with gruff lawyers with great legs. Who I'd like to take back to the hotel. Right now."

I've created a monster. "That can be arr—"

He put a finger over her lips. "Did you hear that?"

She did. Footsteps. Two sets: one heavy and one lighter. Akira pulled her against him and pressed them both to the wall, melting into the shadows. Okaba came charging down the alley, dragging a girl of no more than twenty with blonde hair and pale skin. Sae's breathing came in short, shallow gasps, and her body was cold. Okaba chops his enemies to pieces. Not that we ever found the bodies after. She tried to take some comfort in Akira's arms around her. It didn't work.

"What the hell did you think you were doing in there, Anya?" His voice was a roar. "The customer pays for a good time, you fucking give him a good time! If that means letting them touch you, you do it. If that means letting them fuck you, you do it!"

"He was talking about strangling me! And I think he might've actually done it."

"Lots of guys like to talk about that kind of thing. He knows how much it would cost me if you died. As long as they pay up, we let them indulge whatever sick fantasies they have. Got it? Because if you don't get it, I might have to make you more comfortable with his tastes myself."

And, just for a moment, Sae forgot her fear. It was one thing to mix together sex and violence. To know the safe danger of someone you trusted brushing a knife against your skin or biting and scratching when you made love. It was another for death—real death, not some carefully choreographed game—to be staring you in the face. Or to look in those terrified eyes and be told you couldn't help because the law was only a game. She wished she had that heart-stealing power, so she could crush him.

She could feel Akira trembling with a barely-suppressed rage. "Can you act drunk?" he whispered.

"What?"

"I bet he has a pass card. If you can distract him for a few minutes, I can take a picture to get a copy made. Can you do that?"

Sae closed her eyes. Could she do it? It was one thing to ask him to include her, or to sip drinks in a club, but out here in the dark with trash under her feet, the last thing she felt like was an actress. Makoto might be able to stare down a yakuza boss, but her sister had always been smarter and braver. Better.

Another memory. Akira, bruised and half out of his mind from the drugs, smiling at her with bloodied teeth. "She did it for you, you know. Because Kaneshiro was going to blackmail you and because she wanted you to be proud of her. To…not be a burden."

She nodded and staggered forward. "Hello," she said a bit too loudly. "Can you direct me to the train station? I seem to have gotten…turned around."

Okaba gaped at her as if no one had ever asked him for directions before. Which might actually be true, come to think of it. "What? Do you know who I am?"

"No clue. But then, it's not like I get up to the city much. I really should, though. There's this great club, Fuki's. I swear, you can get everything there. I spent a fortune tonight. Have you been?"

Okaba relaxed. Men. Flatter them a little and they'd fall for anything. "I own it."

"Really?" She put a hand on his arm, as if to steady herself and subtly turned him away. "Because I met the most charming host. I was hoping we could have a more…private session." The words tasted like ashes in her mouth. This was what Leviathan—what she—had thought was the best she could hope for? "He said I would have to talk to the boss."

He looked between her and Anya and frowned. "This isn't the place."

She imagined the darkness within her rising up and it was Leviathan's sneer that crossed her face. "The daily grind. It gets to you. All those men calling you a bitch because you're trying to do your job. I deserve better. And I'm willing to pay."

"I see." He made a contemptuous gesture at Anya. "I'll deal with you later. Go."

Anya took off. Akira slipped behind Okaba and lifted something out of his pocket. "Two minutes," he mouthed, but there was an odd, pained look on his face.

Think of that woman, her hand on Akira's chest. Think of what she wanted, what she thought you wanted. A piece of meat to be bought and sold like any other. "A little power, a little pleasure. You understand."

His eyes hardened and she knew that he hated her, a desperate grasping thing so nakedly upending all that a woman should be. But he said, "I believe I do."

Every man had his price.

And so much easier, just treating them like they treat you. Whatever you think you feel for the boy won't last. You know that. Time is running out. I can't give you power anymore. You screwed that up. At least let me save you from the pain. I'm the only one who will.

"I've had it with emotional complications." Her voice didn't quite sound like hers. Pleasure was the only thing she could hope for. That was why she had made this a temporary affair. That was why—

"Oof." Okaba grunted as a pedestrian embroiled in his phone collided with him. Akira. Sae blinked, and the darkness receded. Akira made a quick motion, replacing the pass card. Only then did his head snap up and his face contort into an expression of pure terror. Okaba's eyes flashed.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry sir, sorry!" Akira held up his hands and cowered. Actually cowered. And as much as she hated the glasses, they did wonders in making Akira look weak. "Please, don't hurt me."

"You're lucky I don't." He nodded to Sae. "You can continue this conversation with one of my associates at a later date."

"You know what I love about people like him?" Akira said when Okaba had stormed off. "How they always manage to be complete jackasses as well as monsters. Did wonders for my conscience back in the day. Meanwhile…" He held up his phone. "A friend of a friend will be happy to make us a pass."

"Do I want to know about this friend of a friend?"

"Probably not." He exhaled. "You are a much better actress than your sister."

"You have to be to survive SIU office politics for more than five minutes."

"I suppose." The pained expression was back. "For a moment there, I thought you were your Shadow."

"For a moment, I was. Everything so hollow and empty. Nothing good in the world or in me. Just spite and power and a rigged game." She shivered despite the heat. So easy to treat people as things, to just stop caring. To...almost kill her own sister because of a petty grudge. "I was a complete and utter bitch back then."

"Not a complete one," he said lightly. "Just cynical and bitter and—I'm going to shut up before I get in trouble. But I do like you better now."

Still... "If I lose this fight and you don't..." She let the words hang in the air unspoken, but he had to know how she would finish that sentence. If I lose myself again, just kill me. Better a corpse than a demon.

And he must have, because his eyes went wide and he seized her hands with enough force to make her gasp. "You won't lose. I won't let you." He turned her hand to kiss her fingertips and palm. "I. Wont. Let. You."

She shuddered again. The knight swearing to fight the darkness to save his lady. It was a pleasingly romantic image, one worthy of one of his books. And not something she had ever considered herself worthy of. That kind of romance happened to other people. Good people.

It's a fling. Hormones. Transient. And it's certainly not up to him whether I win or lose. It's up to you. And you created the Palace. I just lived there. You used me tonight, and you'll use me again when you remember that this is temporary. Love brings only pain.

"I won't let you either." And maybe it wasn't the most romantic declaration in the world, but for tonight it was enough that he was real and solid and wanted her. And that she—Sae Niijima, not Leviathan with its ashes and bitterness—wanted him. And if that would bring pain when they had to return to Tokyo, well, she had seen the alternative.

Sae was on him as soon as the door to the suite closed, ripping off the glasses and loosening his tie until he was Akira again. Her Akira. "I want you." She shook her head. No, that wasn't quite right. She wanted to burn away the memory of everything she had seen and done, everything she might have been but wasn't. "Tell me what you want," she whispered. "This is about you tonight."

"Sae, you don't have to—"

She put a finger to his lips. "I want to."

"Okay. Okay." He let out a long, shaky breath. "Anything I want?" He took her face in his hands and kissed her, slowly as he had that first night. Exploring again and drawing gasps from her. She raised her hand to twist it in his hair.

But he pulled back. "No." His voice was still shaky, but there was something else there too. Smug, playful. Joker. "You keep your hands to yourself. No touching me. No touching yourself. Got that?"

Well, this was new. "I'm supposed to be doing this for you."

"You said anything I want. This is what I want." He softened a little. "Trust me?"

"Of course." The words came so quickly and easily that it sent a jolt through her. She trusted him. He knew her limits and wouldn't push them. The knife might caress, but never cut. The scratch would never draw blood. One "stop" would end this. "I place myself in your hands, Mr. Kurusu."

He kissed her again, but there was something different in the movement of his lips. Practiced, deliberate. He moved over to the spot under her ear and sucked. Heat sparked within her. Delicious. Maddening. Like the first bite of a dinner she couldn't possibly eat fast enough. He removed her blazer and jewelry for her as he always did, except it seemed to take him forever to put her earrings in the jewelry box. By the time had removed all her clothing, Sae was ready to scream.

But she had promised. So instead she met his gaze as he surveyed her with familiar hunger. "On the bed." She could take pleasure in how ragged his voice was. A very small amount of pleasure when he was still dressed and hadn't even touched her yet. "Stretch yourself out."

"And to think you were blushing and stammering a few minutes ago." Better to tease him then to blush and stammer herself. Or worse, break the rules of this little game. The way he was looking at her, clenching and unclenching his fists... He was safe, but safe wasn't the same thing as tame.

"I told you, it's different when it's you. I want you. Hell, I want you." And then he was on top of her, touching and kissing her bare skin at last. Pinching and rolling her nipples just the way she liked and kissing his way down her body. Tracing the lines of her muscles. Pleasure and pain and heat all mixed together until she was nothing more than a jumble of sensation.

He put his hands on her hips and parted her legs. Hot, quick kisses to the inside of her thigh, trailing slowly, leisurely, maddeningly upward. First one leg and then the other. No inch of flesh neglected. She trembled against him. If he had been this thorough as a thief, Yaldabaoth had never stood a chance. But Sae didn't want thorough right now. She wanted relief from the pressure building between her legs. "Faster," she growled.

He kept kissing her, drawing closer to the center but never quite reaching it. She grabbed his head and try to force him to give her some relief, but he ducked away from her and pulled back altogether.

"What are you doing?"

"I said no touching. You touched." Again with the smug tone. "I think I'm just going to leave you like this. Maybe get some work done."

What? No he couldn't. He wouldn't. But he was just looking at her with that small, insufferable smile. She tried to tell him to go to hell, but it came out as a moan.

"Of course, I could be convinced otherwise." His voice changed to a low growl and a thought penetrated her desperate mind. This was the moment he had been planning for all along. "Beg me. Tell me that you want this."

"Akira..." She could tell him to stop and he would. He would even bring her to a climax. She had never begged for sex before in her life. But then she had never wanted anyone this badly before in her life. Their eyes met, and she saw him falter. She wasn't the only one who needed to wash away Okaba's stink. "I want you. Just you. Please."

One, two, three strokes of the tongue and Sae exploded.

When it was over, she lay on her back, panting, tired and thoroughly satisfied. Akira, still fully dressed except for jacket and tie, held her. He stroked her hair and planted soft kisses on her forehead and temple. "Was that good?" He didn't sound smug at all now.

"Very. I'm still going to make you pay for it."

"I'm looking forward to it. I think." He kissed her and she tasted herself on him. "I liked seeing you like that. Losing control. And it's nice to spoil you for once."

"And to hear someone say 'yes.'"

"That too." He stroked the lines of her cheek and jaw. "But you don't have to let me be on top to prove that you aren't Leviathan anymore. In fact, I'd say you qualify for genuine hero status."

She wondered if she would ever believe him. If she could face down enough crime bosses and save enough innocent men from the gallows to wipe out everything she had done. Or if the guilt would just stay there and ache like a scar. "Do all writers flatter the women they take to bed this much, or is it just you?"

He laughed, and Sae could feel some of the muck and mire of the red light district fall away. "You're in this book, you know."

"You named your hero the Phantom. I imagine we're all in the book. And every good thief needs someone trying to catch him."

"No, no. You don't understand. That empress I told you about? That's you."

"You made me the love interest?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I started writing the romance just after you asked me to come with you. And, well, I thought if I was going to have a hopeless crush, I might as well get some use out of it. And then it turned out to be not quite so hopeless."

"Empress. I like the sound of that." Being immortalized in a book. Another romantic thing that didn't happen people like her, unless they were cast as the sympathetic villain. Another thing she didn't deserve, except Akira thought she did. For some reason.

"She's not just the empress. I wouldn't want my hero to be a social climber. Katsumi is beautiful, brilliant. And, after tonight, I think I'll make her a decent actress."

"Laying it on a little thick, there."

"Occupational hazard."

"I'm dating the biggest sap in Japan." I have no idea how it happened, but I think I managed to hit the jackpot. "Who is about to learn a very important lesson in dealing with royalty." She rolled on top of him and smiled. "Don't dish out what you can't take."

She watched him sleep, after. He looked so frightfully young when he slept, with his hair falling into his face like that. Too young to be conning crime lords and far too young to have already fought a battle for all of reality. She ran her fingers over the scars on his chest. "You deserve so much better than you've gotten," she whispered. If this were one of his books, he would be festooned with medals and praised as a hero. Not sent to juvenile hall or spending his life savings to save people. He should be writing books and never wearing another tie again.

That settled it. She was going to buy him that pocket watch. And if he had anything to say about that, she would remind him that an empress could dispense her favors as she chose. Even icy lawyers were allowed to dote on...on someone they were falling for. Oh, she was miserable at this affair business."You know, I think you're in very serious danger of breaking my heart."

At least she still had one.