Read To Honor: Vampire Assassin League #22 for Free Online Page A

room.
    Well.
    She didn’t know where she was, but it sure as hell wasn’t one of her places. They weren’t this nice. Or this spacious. So. That meant she must be in one of the options Mister Asourah had given her. What had they been, again? Was she in the high Himalayas? Doubtful. Myanmar? Possibly. He’d had other castles. She couldn’t remember where at the moment. She was only certain of two things in this alternate universe. She had her wits and she knew where to find the answers.  All she had to do was find him. And give him a piece of her mind.
    Okay.
    Maybe he deserved two pieces.
    Christine scooted to an edge of the bed and stood up. The silk of her juban slid along her limbs, the sensation decadent as well as sinfully delicious. Sinfully delicious? She didn’t know where her head was. She wasn’t that romantic. And never this imaginative.
    There was a yukata robe across the foot of the bed. It was crafted in the same turquoise shade as her undergarment. Christine shoved her arms through the sleeves, pulled her hair out, and tied the obi belt with a vicious motion that made it too tight, and entirely too form-revealing. She told herself she didn’t care. Mister Asourah might be trying to be a good host. Well. He was failing. She was an unwilling guest. And this was sexually suggestive attire. She smirked at a thought. She should probably be thankful he hadn’t given her all the pieces required for a kimono.
    She’d have needed help.
    There was a pair of fitted, leather-soled slippers tucked beneath the corner of the bed platform. Christine slid her feet into them. They fit perfectly. That was odd. She had particularly small feet. The slippers made her passage soundless as she padded across the floor. Each step sent a slide of silk along her legs. Arms. Belly. It was auditory. It was also sensual and arousing. She was actually tiptoeing as she approached the door. The wood whispered as it slid open.
    She found herself in a hallway. A span of space went each direction, ending with shadows she couldn’t penetrate. The floor was another artwork of wood, assembled in a parquet pattern this time. The walls looked about as insubstantial as the ones in her bedroom. Neither direction looked more welcoming than the other, so Christine tossed a mental coin and went right. The hall seemed to go on forever. Once she reached the shadowy area, there was a corner. And more hall. Another corner. More hall again. Another corner. And again. There were sliding panels along one side, probably leading to rooms. She didn’t open any. She was trying not to get lost. She could always go back. But this was disconcerting. Her heartbeat quickened, matching her breathing. The air got moister. A fog developed near the floor, encasing her ankles. It wasn’t cold and clammy, but it sure as hell was creepy. That’s it. She was turning around. But just then a series of clanking and thudding sounds stopped her progress. They came in waves. Close by.
    Really close.
    Christine did exactly what a ‘too-stupid-to-live’ female in most in most fright films did - despite the audience’s groans. She tiptoed near to investigate. Slid the next door panel open. Peeked in...
    And lost her ability to breathe.
    Christine’s mind went blank. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes went wide. Alarm sounds rocketed through her ears. Her heart slammed through her chest. She rocked in place, and might have fallen if she hadn’t held to the door frame.
    Well. She’d found her host.
    Takeshi was in the midst of a large room, wearing low-slung trousers...and not much else. She’d been accurate on his physique. Oh, baby . The guy was amazingly sculpted. Unbelievably so. It was apparent even as he moved at such blurring speed, Christine had trouble following him.
    Takeshi was blind-folded, wielding two short swords, and completing all sorts of gyrations against a barrage of weaponry directed at him. Silver stars sent flickers of light and blizzards of slivers as he