by Taylor Lee
She knew even her grandfather saw through this tactic, but was convinced she would wear him down over time. Bai shook his head with a scornful but amused look.
“Do you understand how transparent you are, Elena? You really need to display your feminine wiles more subtly. As it is, I think even your grandfather sees through your dissembling.”
Elena jumped to her feet. Before she could strike back, Wan came between them.
“Elena, I want to host a ball for you here at Los Vistas. We may as well give all the young men from miles around an opportunity to dance with you. We can schedule it when Lei and Wyatt come to see you. By having the party here, we can ensure your safety.”
Elena’s face lit with joy. She threw her arms around her grandfather’s neck and gave him a big kiss. “Oh, Grandfather, that would be wonderful! Can it be a big ball with musicians and lovely food and champagne? And will you buy me a special dress? One so incredibly gorgeous, so avante guard, that it will make Bai’s ‘sophisticated’ women look dowdy by comparison?”
At that, both Bai and Wan roared with laughter, so much so that Elena reluctantly joined in.
She sniffed. “Well, Bai, it’s true. You do know, don’t you, that most of the clothes that your supposedly sophisticated women wear are at least one season behind the latest styles?”
Bai wiped tears from his eyes and said, “I have no doubt that is true, Elena. But then none of ‘my sophisticated women’ have your grandfather’s or Lei’s extraordinary sense of style or resources. As a point of interest, have you ever worn a gown twice?”
“Of course I have. Well, not to a ball or a dinner or a party.” She saw Bai’s eyes twinkling and continued with a disdainful toss of her head, “I know you are trying to make me seem spoiled, that I get whatever I want. But that isn’t true. It makes my grandfather happy to see me look beautiful, doesn’t it, Grandfather?”
“Yes, it does. Elena. And yes, Bai is correct, I do spoil you. But it is my pleasure to do so. Now, enough of this. Let’s meet with Augustine and begin to plan your ball.”
~~~
Like Nianzu, Wan, and the others, Bai was amused by the antics of the men storming Los Vistas to see Elena. Some were overt about their intentions. More of them developed elaborate subterfuges that had the servants and men at the compound shaking with laughter at their expense.
As much as he enjoyed watching them make fools of themselves, Bai found himself becoming more and more annoyed. In his mind, there was something unseemly, unmanly, about these men willing to accept the crumbs Elena threw their way. It was galling how much she obviously enjoyed a multitude of men begging for her attention.
Bai reminded himself that he was not interested in Elena. Let someone else put up with her whims and pouts. He promised himself he wouldn’t be taken in by her lovely face or enticing body. Let other men fall prey to her charms. A long time ago, his mother had warned him not to play with fire.
He determined he would pay as little attention to her as possible. Instead, he took on the formidable task of keeping the Tong hostility in check. All it would take was one match to cause the smoldering Tong violence to burst into flames. Later, looking back on it, he thought, of course, it would be Elena who struck the match. Why would it be anyone else?
~~
Chapter 15
Nianzu and Elena spent the afternoon riding with friends of Elena’s at a nearby ranch. They had a late start and their ride took longer than expected. It was close to dusk when they got back to the Master’s ranch. Tim Master and his sister Brody suggested that they stay overnight rather than head back to Los Vistas. Elena and Nianzu talked it over and decided they should get back to the compound. There was much to do to prepare for the ball. They headed out, when Elena had an idea. Bai had business in Sacramento and wouldn’t be home. Wan was in San Francisco meeting Wyatt and Lei. They were due at the compound in two days to prepare for the big ball. Only the servants and Sing Leon members were at the villa. The trail to the compound was within miles of town. Frolicking with pent-up excitement, Elena suggested they stop at the Golden Horseshoe Saloon for dinner. Nianzu was openly horrified.
“Elena, don’t be ridiculous. We can’t do that. Not only did Bai specifically forbid you to go to the saloon, but your grandfather did, as well.”
“Not really, Nianzu. They forbade me to go to the saloon to dance, but that isn’t what I am suggesting. Look at me? Do you think I can dance in these clothes?” She pointed to her riding pants and white silk shirt.
“I will wear my cowboy hat and hide my hair. You can give me your jacket. No one will know I am a woman.”
“Elena, please stop. You know we can’t do that. And no one will think you are a man, if you wear ten jackets.”
“Nianzu, please, please,” she wheedled. “Do you have any idea how tired I am of being a prisoner? Never getting to do anything spontaneous? Having all these stupid rules? Please, Nianzu. It can be our special secret. No one will know. We will go to the Golden Horseshoe, drink beer, eat a big steak, and then go back to Los Vistas. Augustine will think we stayed at the Master’s. Bai won’t be back until tomorrow evening at the earliest. No one but us will ever know.”
It was late and she knew Nianzu must be hungry. She also knew that he was tired of all the rules and restrictions on her and, by extension, on him. He was accustomed to being Bai’s right hand man. He was the lieutenant who sat in on the highest level meetings and had authority second only to Wan’s and Bai’s. Though he hadn’t admitted it, she saw he was stung by the jokes at his expense from the other Sing Leon. He was afraid he was losing standing in their eyes. In fact, he had told her after the last afternoon tea he chaperoned, that he was going to ask Bai to replace him.
Elena saw him hesitate and pressed her advantage.
“C’mon, Nianzu. Please, just this once, let’s you and I make the rules. I promise you, if there is a problem, I will leave the minute you tell me to. I promise I won’t argue. Look, Nianzu, if we have to leave quickly, no one can ride faster than we can.”
They were approaching the turnoff to town and seeing Nianzu’s indecision, Elena turned Zhenqui to the right and shouted out with a yelp of joy, “C’mon, slowpoke, catch me if you can!”
~~~
It was dark by the time they reached town, but the lights were bright in the saloon. Music and laughter reverberated all the way to the stables. Elena was shaking with excitement, but did her best to quiet Nianzu’s concerns. Hiding behind the Golden Horseshoe, Elena tried to squelch her giggles while they crushed her hair up under her hat. Nianzu helped her put on his jacket. He insisted that she button it up to the collar so there was no chance of pale skin or the swell of a beautiful breast peeking through.
“Now all I need is a mustache, Nianzu, and I could pass for a Mexicano bandito,” she said with a giggle.
“Elena, promise me you won’t talk, that you won’t say a word. Promise?”
She nodded.
His voice was fierce. “Follow me. We will get a table in the back and I will order our food. You keep your head down. And don’t talk!”
Elena grinned, pressing her finger against her lips in seeming agreement. She was quiet, but sure that her eyes were dancing.
The saloon was everything she had hoped. It was full of smoke, loud music, and all kinds of men shouting and laughing. The music blared and no one could have heard her if she did talk. To her delight, dancing ladies in short dresses flirted shamelessly with the drunken men. Elena smiled appreciatively when the men tried to put their hands up their skirts, but the bar girls deftly batted them away with a sly look that implied there was more if the price was right. Just breathing it all in made Elena feel outrageous. For the first time since she left the plains of Wyoming, she felt free. Nianzu ordered their dinner, both deciding on bourbon, not beer. They found a seat in the farthest corner and sat back to enjoy the view.
It was ironic that it was Nianzu, Elena thought later, who caused all hell to break loose. For the firs
t hour it looked like they were going to do what they planned: eat dinner, drink their bourbon, and go home crowing over their adventure. Nianzu saw them first and ducked his head. Elena saw the expression on his face and knew immediately something was wrong.
“What? What is it, Nianzu?” she whispered.
“It’s Rongue Ri. We can’t let them see us.” He whispered, his face was tight, his eyes flashing. “Keep your head down. Don’t make eye contact. If they recognize me, we’re in trouble.”
Elena knew the Rongue Ri were second only to the Sing Leon in territory, membership, and fierceness. The Sing Leon had battled the Rongue Ri for years. She heard Bai tell her father that the Rongue Ri planned to use the cover of the spreading Tong violence to take down the Sing Leon and topple Wan Chang.
Frightened, Elena kept her eyes down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of eight fierce looking Chinese men walking through the saloon. There were muttered curses about “uppity Chinks” and mumbled outrage, but for the most part, the white men in front of them scattered. The saloon became ominously quiet.
One of the Rongue Ri strode to a table where three men sat. He said in a harsh voice, “Get Up.”
The men paled and looked down, but didn’t move. With a curse, the Chinese man grabbed the edge of the table and threw it against the men, who crashed to the floor. Three Rongue men stepped up, viciously kicking the men on the floor. The men screamed in pain and scuttled back against the wall, cowering in fear. The Chinese men righted the table and sat down. Their leader motioned to the bartender. Within minutes, bottles of bourbon and glasses appeared. The men settled down to rounds of heavy drinking as an uneasy calm settled over the saloon.
Elena forced herself to take deep breaths and keep her head down. Nianzu turned his back to the group. His face was hard, his eyes were fierce. It was an expression she had seen on Bai’s face and it frightened her as much as the Rongue Ri at the next table.
“Wichi, do you smell what I smell?” asked one of the now drunk Rongue. “I think I smell shit. No, I’m wrong, it is worse that shit, it is Sing Leon.”
Elena saw Nianzu’s body tighten. He whispered to her, “Elena, you have to run as fast as you can. You promised me.”
But it was too late. Keeping her head down, Elena saw to her horror four pair of boots crowding around their table. She saw the muscles on Nianzu’s neck tighten and knew he was assuming a fighting stance.
A harsh voice said, “Well, I’ll be fucked. If it isn’t the Frenchman’s lapdog. Greetings, Nianzu, old friend. Where is the boss man tonight? Up in the whore house, I presume? That’s too bad, because it doesn’t look like you have much of a back up here.”
Elena saw it coming before Nianzu did. When two men came from behind to jump him, Elena screamed a shrill scream.
At the sound of her voice the man they called Wichi shouted, “Stop! Wait, Goddamnit!”
He held up his hand and stared at her. The two men stepped back from Nianzu as all eyes turned to her. Elena jumped up, trying to back up, but the wall was behind her. An ugly grin spread across Wichi’s face. He jerked over and knocked her hat on the floor. His grin widened.
“Well, I’ll be fucked, Nianzu. If it isn’t Wan Chang’s little granddaughter and the Frenchman’s cunt. What’cha doing, Nianzu, stepping out on the boss man?”
There was a gasp around the room when it was clear that the slender young man in the corner was a beautiful red haired woman. As the Chinese men surrounded them, the crowd saw violence in the making. The rustling sound of chairs scraping back and voices shouting, “Chink fight,” was followed by a stampede of white men doing everything they could to get out of the way. The ones who didn’t make it, plastered against the wall, knowing what was coming.
Elena saw the eight men surrounding them and she saw Nianzu’s face. She knew their only chance was to take them off guard. They wouldn’t know she was a kung fu master. Surprise was their only weapon.
She stepped forward and slowly began to unbutton Nianzu’s jacket. In that instant, Nianzu’s eyes blackened, warning her to stop, but she knew she was right; it was their only chance.
Elena was sick with fear, but she smiled as she undid the last button. She slipped off the jacket and tossed it over her shoulder onto the table. Eight pair of Chinese eyes and four times as many pairs of white men’s eyes widened in surprise. They all stared at the beautiful red haired woman in the white silk blouse that showed off more than a little soft womanly flesh.
She stepped up to Wichi and said with a haughty smile, “There must be some mistake. I’m not anyone’s cunt.”
Wichi stepped back in surprise, as did his men, then said in a sinister voice, “Well, if you are not the Frenchman’s cunt, perhaps you’d like to be mine.”
“Not likely,” she said with a dismissive toss of her head.
With a fierce spirit yell, echoed by Nianzu, she flipped to the floor. With a flash, she drove her boot up into Wichi’s shoulder, knocking him to the floor.
Nianzu and Elena had been sparring daily. They knew each other’s moves. For the first five minutes they were unstoppable. Helped by Elena’s surprise attack, they stood back to back and took on each man that came at them. They were cheered on by the crowd that was astonished at the fierceness of the fight, especially when the star of the show, at least in the beginning, was a slender young woman half the size of her largest opponent. But as the fight intensified, the outcome was likely. It didn’t favor Elena and Nianzu.
~~~
In the brothel across the street, Bai and his men were enjoying the favors of Madam Couchette’s finest. Bai was known for his exacting taste in women and Madam Couchette always reserved her most select girls for Bai and his men. Wazma had come ahead to notify the madam that Bai and his men were coming in from Sacramento. She was to have food, drink, and the finest whores available for them when they arrived. The party underway was festive, the wine excellent. The food was surpassed only by the creativity and availability of the whores.
Bai was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette when Sabine, one of his favorites, sidled up to him.
“Thank you for waiting for me, Bai,” she said with a coquettish smile. “I had to work at the saloon tonight. I didn’t think they would ever let me go.”
“Ah, but you are here now, Sabine. That is all that matters.”
“I hope Nianzu can join us tonight, Bai.”
“No, Nianzu is on duty tonight at the compound, as he is every night, taking care of wayward children,” Bai said with a wicked grin.
“I don’t think so, Bai. If one of the children has bright red hair,and bigger breasts than I do, she isn’t at the compound, she is at the saloon. And so is Nianzu. When I left it looked like a fight was about to break out with a whole group of Rongue Ri. Your Nianzu didn’t look happy.” She grinned, “Yes, I think you are correct. Nianzu won’t join us tonight.”
~~~
Bai’s expression froze as hard as ice. He barked out a series of orders. Within minutes, all ten of his men had their pants on, and were a stone-cold sober phalanx marching across the street behind their leader.
As they approached the saloon, screams and warrior cries filled the air. A crowd of men outside was marveling at the fight inside.
“Christ, I ain’t never seen nuthin like it. I thought I had seen a Chink fight but, fuckin’ Christ, did you see that girl? Damn, what a fighter!”
“Hell, yeah, but it was two against eight.”
“I thought I’d shit my pants when she walks up to their leader and says, ‘I’m not anyone’s ‘cunt’ and he says, ‘Maybe you wanna be mine,’ and she says cool as can be ‘not likely’ and winds up and kicks him in the face.”
“Shouldn’t we go help her?”
“Christ, and get between the Chinks? Hell, no. She’s a goner.”
The comments of the cowards outside prepared Bai for what he saw when he walked in, only it was worse.
Elena was pinned against the wall, held by two
Rongue fighters. One had her arms twisted behind her back, the other had her by her hair. Her lip was cut, blood was on her chin. She was still fighting them as hard as she could, screaming for them to stop hitting Nianzu.
But they weren’t likely to stop.
Four men held Nianzu spread eagled against the wall. Another man was methodically beating him, one hard blow after another.
The final man, their leader, stood off to the side, his face lit with cruel excitement.
~~~
“Wichi Fan.”
Bai’s voice was soft, but it stopped the fight in mid-strike.
Everyone in the saloon turned to see the tall, lean elegant man walk into the room. He stopped four feet in front of the Rongue Ri leader, looking him in the eye.
“Wichi,” he repeated. “Stop them.” He motioned to the men beating Nianzu.
Wichi stepped forward and met Bai’s eyes. His eyes were bright with cruel hate and as cunning as Bai’s. He licked his lips as he stood face to face with his nemesis. With a wave, he motioned his men away from Nianzu, who fell to the floor.
“You and me, Wichi.”
“Ah, the Frenchman comes to me.” Wichi Fan sneered, his face smoldered with sinister hate. “I have waited a long time for this, Mr. Frenchman. A very long time. And as always, the Frenchman is right. Me and you. Who wants the second when I have the first here in front of me? Yes, Mr. Frenchman, I will fight you. And I intend to kill you.”
“Likewise.” Bai’s voice was cool, almost pleasant.
“Only one condition, Mr. Frenchman, and it needs to be an order accepted by our men. Whoever lives gets the cunt.” He pointed mockingly at Elena, crouched between the two killers, holding her down. “Because according to her she belongs to no one.”
Wichi threw back his head, roaring with laughter.
