She distracted him for a moment as he described their fabulous retreat up on the Lost Coast, but when I ran out of questions about it, he took a pen out of his pocket and handed me a napkin. “Could you sign that for my great grandson, Teddy Papandreou? He’s seventeen, and he’ll be incredibly jealous when he hears I met you.”
What the hell? I’d had lots of practice at pretending in the gladiator world. I just didn’t think I’d have to keep playing the stupid game. But if I was, I was going to play it to the max.
I signed the napkin with a friendly note to the kid and plastered a fake grin on my face. Then I leaned toward his idiot great-grandpa in a conspiratorial way. “Do you want to know the best part of that life?” I whispered
Hector grinned back. “The money? The glory?”
“No, but damned good guesses.” I paused and glanced around. Everyone had stopped talking to stare at me. Ian nudged me with his knee under the table, but I’d had enough of Hector’s stupidity. He was an old fart but should’ve known better. The man didn’t seem senile, just childish.
“The parties, good sir. After each victory, they’d throw a big bash. Caviar and lobster. Champagne and fancy margaritas. That was the only time I got to eat and drink as much I wanted. And you’re right—everybody cheered me and told me they’d loved watching my matches.”
Like Bloody Mary would’ve, I stuck my hands high in the air, shimmied in my chair, and yelled, “Look at me, you cowards!”
Hector laughed like he knew what I was talking about, but the others sat with somber faces, including Ian.
Olympia put her hands over her face and shrieked. “Papa, she was some asshole’s property. She had to do whatever her owner wanted, including sex. That’s a horrible life.”
Ian whispered in my ear. “That’s enough, Moira. All of these folks will sympathize if you let him off the hook now.”
That was fine. I’d suffered too many times during those agonizing victory parties to keep up my charade any longer. Instead, I threaded my arm through Ian’s. “Here’s my Prince Charming. He saved me on the happiest day of my life.”
I leaned against him and rested my head on his shoulder.
Within a few minutes, everyone seemed to remember urgent business back at the inn. Through the rest of the evening, I wondered how I could’ve handled that situation better. Actually, there were too many ways to count. I told Dana and Philippe what I’d done and asked for their advice about making amends to Ian and Gill.
All she said was, “I would’ve scratched Hector’s eyes out. What an idiot!”
My boyfriend was usually the voice of reason, but he said, “Ian should’ve stopped the old man before he made such a fool of himself. He should’ve helped you.”
That only made me feel worse. “I owe him everything, but I’m not a child—I can take care of myself. I just need to be more diplomatic.”
-o-o-o-
Thursday, March 4th
I HARDLY SLEPT that night, too embarrassed over how I’d put Gill and Ian into such an uncomfortable situation after they’d done so much for me. So, when Philippe and I showed up in front of the inn, I approached the boss. “Listen, I’m really sorry about how I acted—”
He put up his hand to stop me. “No need to apologize. I talked the situation over with Gill later. One or both of us should’ve slapped Hector silly before he got so carried away. What an old dingbat. Now I know why his daughter insisted on coming with him. You handled yourself like a proud lady.”
My stomach turned queasy. I didn’t know how to react to that. Nobody had called me a lady, ever. Was it a compliment or a disguised putdown?
He patted me on the shoulder. “Hey, didn’t mean to confuse you. You put him in his place, just like he deserved. A couple of those witches told me last night how impressed they were with your ability to control your temper. And Hector still hasn’t realized he got skewered. Way to go, girl.”
Well, that sounded like a compliment. Before I could thank him, Ian took off. Philippe and I caught up with him and stayed on his heels. A strong wind was blowing from the northwest off the ocean, and I hoped that meant a storm was brewing. It would be my best way to get a fix of natural magic soon. I needed to get my mind straightened out again.
-o-o-o-
AT BREAKFAST, THE boss showed up with a tall, slim Chinese man who I guessed was about thirty years old. He wore an orange monk’s robe, and his head was bald. He moved with fluid grace as he approached to shake my hand.
“This is Sun Chen,” Ian said, “my latest disciple. He comes to us from China. Please welcome him.”
Chen smiled and bowed to each of us as we greeted him. Although he was faced with a dozen strangers, he seemed perfectly relaxed. Dana happened to be sitting next to me, and Lee waved at Chen from her other side. I introduced both of them.
“Welcome, Dana said, “Is this your first visit to America?”
He answered in heavily accented English. “Yes, in fact, the first time I’ve left China.”
“Did you grow up in a monastery?” Lee asked.
He nodded. “My family has survived as shepherds in Western China for many generations. But…too many of us lately, and too few sheep. At age six, my father took me to the Shaolin Temple and told me, ‘Here, you can eat three meals every day.’ That sounded like heaven, and it turned out to be.”
I was dying of curiosity to find out from Ian why he’d chosen Chen as his latest Garda disciple. The boss supposedly had a long waiting list, and I couldn’t help but wonder how Chen had made it to the top of that list.
But my question would have to wait until I could get a private word with the boss. In the meantime, I asked Chen, “Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” he said. “I have been flying for twenty hours from Hong Kong. If I am too late this morning, of course, I understand.”
This guy was way too understanding. Any time I missed a meal, I made sure everybody knew how pissed I was. “Definitely not too late. I’m sure we can find you something.”
I took him over to the cafeteria line, and many of the serving trays were empty. But there was still plenty of fruit, hash browns, and several different omelets.
To get him started, I grabbed a tray, a plate, silverware, and a couple of napkins. Then I pointed out the different options.
“Is any of this food vegetarian?” he asked. “If not, I will each whatever you have. That is our way.”
I pointed to two possible choices. “There’s cheese in this omelet, but ham and bacon in the others.”
Using my blinding powers of deduction, I figured out this guy really was a Buddhist monk who’d been kidnapped from a foreign country so different, I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. “Have you tried fried potatoes before? They’re delicious.”
He shook his head. “I’ve seen pictures of French fries but never tasted one. I shall try these.”
Since he hadn’t eaten for almost a full day, I piled his plate high. “How did you meet Ian from halfway around the world?”
“Several years ago, I was sent by our abbot to Hong Kong to establish a Shaolin monastery there. A few months ago, however, the local government closed our temple. We inadvertently made powerful enemies. Because I’ve always been blessed with an unusual magical gift, I contacted a group of local magicians who gave me a place to live and helped me connect with others of our kind, including your clan. When Ian offered me this opportunity, I accepted it most gratefully.”
To make sure Cheb knew what he was getting himself into, I said, “You know that there will be a bounty on your head, right? Sorcerers threaten us constantly. A hundred thousand US dollars is a lot of money.”
He nodded. “Ian explained that to me before I left China. Unfortunately, the political situation there is very unstable. Buddhism is barely tolerated in the Middle Kingdom. My abbot assured me I would be much safer here than in my homeland.”
I was in no position to tell him he was wrong, t
hat was for sure. But I still couldn’t figure out what was special about him. He did have an aura, but it hadn’t knocked my socks off. The boss had thrown me another curve ball.
When we returned to the table, Chen ate his breakfast in silence unless someone asked him a direct question. I tried not to ask too many, as that seemed too much like an interrogation. Christina asked a half-dozen before her mom put an end to it.
Gill chatted with Chen, and I was surprised to hear the old Texan had visited Hong Kong a dozen times. There was so much I didn’t know about the old man’s life, even after reading his biography and hanging around him as much as I could.
“Do you know anybody in the US besides us?” Dana asked Chen.
He shook his head. “But I will change that as soon as possible. It is important to remain open to meeting others.”
I couldn’t agree, but to each his own. And I did feel empathy for the guy having come in as a total outsider a couple of months ago. “I actually grew up in a sorcerer’s family. That’s what we call evil magicians here. Until early January, that was the only world I’d known.”
His only response was a broken smile. At least I’d been raised in the USA and was fluent in the native tongue.
It was going to be incredibly difficult for him to start over. “I think I have an inkling about how you feel after ending up here so suddenly. If you run into any trouble of any kind, come see me first. I’ll be happy to help.”
He bowed his head toward me. “You are extremely kind. Thank you.”
But he didn’t ask me any questions. Jin spoke a few words to him in Chinese, and he replied briefly. Maybe she’d made him the same offer of help. It would be natural for her to explain things, with a similar cultural background. She’d grown up in Seattle, born to immigrant parents shortly after they’d arrived.
I briefly imagined what it would be like for me to be teleported to the middle of China, and I suddenly realized I had no clue how I’d cope there. Thank the gods, he spoke English quite well for a foreigner. He must’ve studied it for years. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, expecting to see worry or fear, but he seemed perfectly comfortable. That confused me even more.
Chapter 11
Friday, March 5th
EARLY IN THE morning, Philippe and I stood at the portico, stretching in anticipation of our morning jaunt. Chen stood with Jin speaking quietly in Chinese. He was wearing an Angels sweatshirt and exercise shorts instead of his robe. His legs were lean, and the sneakers on his feet looked brand-new. At least somebody had thought to help him dress better for California. Why hadn’t I?
With a friendly wave for us to follow, Ian took off toward Del Monte Beach. From time to time, I turned to make sure Chen could keep up. I had no idea how much monks exercised. It turned out, he loped along effortlessly. The guy obviously hadn’t spent his entire time in China chanting Buddhist mantras and staring at his navel. But why is he here?
At breakfast, Dana ate with me again, or I should say, she ate with Lee. They seemed to have plenty to share. My heart warmed at the thought that she might not be alone for long.
Then that blonde bitch Ginger appeared from behind us. “Lee, we have to talk.”
He put down his fork and sighed. “Yeah, we do.”
He stood and walked with her to a quiet corner of the dining room.
I glanced that way several times. At first, they seemed calm, but Ginger began waving her arms around, then her voice grew louder. Obviously not happy.
Too bad. The sooner he got rid of her, the better. Big boobs and a pretty face could only get a gal so far in life.
“What do you think he’s saying?” my sister whispered to me.
“I think he’s dumping her as gently as he can, but she’s stubborn and mean. Unfortunately, I doubt she will go quietly into that good night.”
“I don’t want to be a homewrecker,” Dana said.
After putting an arm around her shoulder, I said “Hey, they’re not married, sis, or even hand fasted for a year. He deserves better, namely you.”
Her crooked smile told me she hoped I was right but wasn’t as sure as I was about how Lee felt. But I’d noticed how his eyes gleamed when he looked at Dana, and he was a bright guy.
Ginger’s scream echoed off the walls. I suppressed a smile. She stormed out of the dining room, and Lee trudged back to us, his face somber.
When he arrived, Dana and I pretended like we hadn’t noticed anything. He sat down and chewed on a piece of bacon. Then he turned to Dana. “Sorry about the racket.”
A smile crept onto her face. “What racket?”
I did a mental fist pump. That little problem was working itself out nicely. Too bad the rest of my problems weren’t sorting themselves out as smoothly.
-o-o-o-
BEFORE MY KARATE sparring session with Ian, I asked, “Okay, I’m dying of curiosity. What’s so special about Chen? Something must’ve convinced you to fly him halfway around the world.”
“I like his smile.”
That was total bullshit. I just stared back.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but his abbot tells me he doesn’t bitch every time he gets asked to do something. Instead, he bows and does his best to make his boss happy.”
I groaned. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts, now that he’s in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Even peons have rights in these United States, Sir.”
Ian’s response was to give me a roundhouse kick to the head. Luckily, I’d expected that and caught his foot in midair. That left him in an incredibly vulnerable position.
“Ha, ha!” We always fought as though our lives were at stake, no quarter asked or given, so I promptly kicked him in the balls. Maybe I eased up, but not much.
He winced but kept from shrieking.
I burst out laughing. Nine times out of ten when we sparred, he beat the crap out of me, leaving me bruised and sore. That was just the way we rolled in the Garda.
Having bested him for once, I stopped to savor the moment. “Damn, I wish I had a video. Nobody’s going to believe me. By the way, you didn’t answer my question.”
After he took a couple of tentative steps in a circle to walk off the injury, he launched a lunging punch at my head. I managed to block it with my forearm, but the force of his blow almost made me scream. Thankfully, he didn’t break any of my bones.
“Fight now, bitch later,” he muttered.
He said that to me a lot. “Sir, yes, sir.”
From that moment on, I was back on the defensive, fighting to survive, not to win. He always pushed me to my limit, but not beyond, and I was forced to use every trick I knew to stay standing. But I’d gotten one good lick in, and it made my day.
-o-o-o-
AT LUNCH, I’D hardly sat down with my tray before I began to brag to the other disciples about my shot at Prince Charming’s jewels.
Frank’s eyes opened wide. “You kicked him square in the nuts? And yet you live?”
I patted my torso with my hands to make sure. “Apparently so, I don’t feel like a ghost. He gave me an opening, and I took it.”
Jin smiled at me sheepishly. “Congratulations. I’ve never managed to break through his defenses down low.”
I stole a glance to see whether Ian was paying attention, but he was playing with his son instead. In the past, he’d often teased me after landing a solid blow, so I wasn’t about to pass up a rare chance for payback.
Because he continued to ignore me, I raised my hands over my head and sang, “We are the champions….”
Gill smirked at me. “Be glad Ian isn’t an arrogant SOB. Most of my mentors blasted me with a lightning bolt after I connected against them.”
That was true—we were blessed that Ian had no ego. In fact, he was probably mostly happy at my success, at least once the throbbing wore off. I showed Gill the purple bruise on my forearm where Ian’s rock-hard fist had landed. Normally, I would’ve
had Raphael heal it after the session, but I wore it as a badge of honor.
“That’s nothing,” the old witch said. “Have I told you about the time I got my ass shot off in the big war?”
Not again. “You have,” I fired back, “and that’s not a subject for polite lunch conversation.”
Katie nodded at me. “Exactly. Gill, why don’t you tell her instead what Sophia said.”
He leaned toward me. “She’s the woman from Santa Monica you met at our crazy get-together. Couldn’t be here for lunch, but she wants to have dinner with you at one of the restaurants in the harbor. If you can possibly make it, you should. She’s well connected in Southern California. A great gal to know.”
I already knew too many people, but when Gill and Katie both suggested something, I couldn’t refuse. “If you think it’s a good idea.”
Katie typed on her phone with one hand while holding Travis to her breast with the other. “I just sent you her number. Call before you forget.”
While they watched, I did.
-o-o-o-
AFTER OUR AFTERNOON run, the boss said, “Chen has kindly agreed to instruct us all in a martial art he’s studied for more than two decades. We’ll meet in the Garda’s training room in ten minutes.”
It didn’t take me long to figure out Chen’s specialty, not given his Buddhist background. I hurried up to Ian as he walked away. “You think we need to learn kung fu fighting? That’s why you brought the monk here?”
“No, and no. But he is here, isn’t he? Why shouldn’t we take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity?”
I wanted to keep asking questions—was more confused than ever—but his phone rang. He chatted all the way to the training room about some meeting he was setting up in Boulder. Some kind of training academy for witches.
Once we all gathered, Chen showed us a series of kung fu forms or katas. Martial arts movies were incredibly popular in the sorcerer world, so I’d seen these before. And plenty of gladiators had used kung fu against me, but I’d won those fights with only karate.
Chen taught us a simple form called Fierce Tiger. I worked through the steps with the others, but at the end of the hour, I remained skeptical. I asked Ian, “How is this any better than what we do already?”
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