by Reese, Jenn
"He doesn't have to let her have them," Ian said. His thumb rubbed a small bump in one of the waves, and the bump depressed. Ian kept his left hand there and felt for the loose fish scale with his right. "Shan doesn't need his permission to take them."
"Don't be an ignorant prick, Dash. This schoolboy crush of yours is going to get you killed."
Ian stared at Buckley, an intense, smoldering anger beginning to crawl through his flesh. "You're engaged to Lydia, yet you're willing to leave her here, and I'm the prick?"
"Dash, I'm trying to save your life. If calling me a prick makes you feel better about that, then bully for you." Buckley's cheek had flushed red, and Ian saw his hands fold into heavy fists--even the hand attached to the broken arm.
Ian turned back to the fountain. He pressed the bump in the wave and the loose scale, and a door swiveled open beside him. The darkness of the secret passage--and eventually Shan--beckoned.
"You go, Daniel," Ian said. "You find that boat and you take it. I won't stop you."
Buckley frowned. His fists tightened. "You're making a mistake, Ian, and it's a fucking big one."
"Then feel free to write 'I told you so' on my gravestone," Ian growled, and he stepped into the abyss.
One-eye wanted to talk, but Shan just wanted him to die.
But he stood over Lydia's body with a knife in his hand. She needed to keep him occupied by something other than the easy target Lydia's flesh made.
"If you want revenge," Shan said quietly, "then come and take it. I'm not going anywhere until this is over."
One-eye's mouth widened into a grin. He dropped the knife onto Lydia's back. It landed on the flat of the blade, gleamed malevolently, but lay still.
"I'm not as good as my mother, but you still won't be able to take me," Shan taunted, her voice filled with the power of stillness.
One-eye stepped around Lydia, starting to cross the floor between them. "No, you're not," One-eye said. "And yes, I will."
Shan let her hands fall to her sides. Ready. Still.
"Show me," she said.
And he came.
Prepared, he was fast. Driven, he was deadly.
Shan dodged and blocked his attacks with an ease that almost surprised her. Her mind was more clear, more empty, than it had ever been. Shan saw One-eye's attacks before he made them. His chi sputtered through his body, pockmarked by his anger.
It made him weaker even as it fed her strength.
He kicked at her head. Shan knocked his foot away with ease. He punched, slashed, jabbed at her eyes. She flowed like the river, always moving, but without thought.
Shan saw an opening in One-eye's defenses and drove her knuckles into the joint at his shoulder. Then she swiveled her arm and drove those same knuckles into his ribcage. As her right hand pulled back, she channeled its force into her left. Her knuckle sank deeply into the soft flesh of his neck.
One-eye stumbled.
Shan whipped out her right hand, all but her two longest fingers folded inward, and pierced his one remaining eye.
The same move her mother had used to blind him over fifteen years ago.
One-eye screamed. He dropped to the floor and writhed, both hands covering his oozing socket.
But Shan did not enjoy suffering, even his. She stomped on his throat and crushed his windpipe.
And quickly--almost quickly enough--One-eye died.
His hands fell away from his face, and Shan forced herself to look, really look, at the damage she had caused. She wanted to feel remorse for taking her first life, but there was no honesty in that emotion for her. The world was a better place for this man's passing. Shan owed him nothing. Even the speedy death she had given him was undeserved.
"Buckley..."
Xia was trying to raise her head. Shan knelt beside One-eye and searched his body. She found keys in his front pocket.
"Buckley," Xia said again, her voice as broken as her body seemed to be.
"He's safe," Shan said. "Ian is taking him back to the room. They're both safe."
She moved to Lydia first. A Chinese character, bloody but precise, was carved into Lydia's shoulder. Shan cursed silently. The character said "whore."
She released Lydia from her straps and helped the young woman sit up. Fresh bruises covered her upper arms, her cheek, her right thigh, yet Shan said nothing about them.
"Hold Xia while I release the cuffs," Shan said. "Don't let her fall."
Lydia, her face tear-streaked and dirty, pulled the gag from her mouth and said, "Buckley's a traitor."
"Dash, wait!"
Ian heard Buckley lumber into the secret passage, but didn't stop. Buckley was willing to leave Lydia here. Lydia, the woman Bucks supposedly loved. This was not the same man who had stood by Ian's side in the wilds of the Brazilian rainforest and faced down a gang of guerillas spoiling for a fight. Something had happened to Bucks, and it wasn't something good.
Ian ran his hand along the smooth wall to his right and stepped carefully, hoping that Ashton hadn't thought to install any pressure-sensitive pits or poison darts or huge rolling boulders. Shan needed to know about the boat, even if Buckley took it for himself. Maybe there was another boat. Its very existence gave them a chance of surviving this night that they didn't have ten minutes ago. Maybe...
Oh, who was he kidding? The boat was simply an excuse to find Shan and to be with her, no matter what happened. Ian had persuaded himself that Shan knew best, that his presence would only weaken her chances of defeating Ashton. But Shan wasn't all-knowing, and she wasn't all-powerful. Help, even his, might be all it took to shift the balance in her favor. And he was willing to risk his own life on that chance.
"Come on, Ian, wait up!"
Amazingly, Bucks remembered to keep his voice down. Ian ignored him anyway.
The hallway ended in a velvet curtain. Ian pulled the curtain back an inch and peered into a large, circular chamber about thirty feet wide. Ringing the wall about ten feet up were dozens of huge monitors showing some elaborate fight scene in unison. In the very center of the room stood a low table carved with intricate animal designs. A statue of pale green jade rested on top of it. Ian squinted and recognized the bottom part of the statue as his crane.
Ashton had rebuilt the Jade Circle.
Buckley shuffled up behind Ian and said, "You should have gone to the boat with me."
"We found it," Ian said. "Where's the boat? As soon as we find Shan and Lydia, we can get the hell out of here."
"You aren't listening."
Ian felt the cold, heavy barrel of a gun pressed against his spine.
In some bizarre self-defense maneuver, Ian's mind filled with rapid-fire images. The only ones that mattered were of Shan. Shan bursting through the door back at the university like some mythic goddess. Shan kissing his chin in the Alps, like a sweet-hearted teenager. Shan in the hot tub... The image flickered, then froze.
Shan in the hot tub.
She'd already rescued him once. She shouldn't have to do it again.
Ian spun and swept the gun away from his back with an arm that suddenly felt like a wing. He kept turning, and his other arm floated up, extended. The edge of his hand slammed into Buckley's neck with the full force of Ian's spinning body behind it.
Buckley choked and fell against the wall, clutching his throat with the hand of his broken arm. He tried to raise his gun, but Ian moved faster, kicked the gun out of Buckley's hand, and heard it skitter into the darkness.
Ian remembered the bar, and Buckley's sudden possession of the gun that chased the bad guys away. He remembered France, and the two wrong turns Buckley had taken when they were driving. All the pieces slid together into a terrible picture of betrayal.
"Money?" Ian said, his voice almost broken.
Buckley laughed. "You'd never understand. Not with your millions in the bank and your fucking twisted ideas about honor. You should have gone to the boat with me. This isn't your fight."
Ian shook his head. How could he h
ave been so stupid? And Shan had trusted them both, risked her life to keep them both safe. He should have seen through the deception.
"You're right. I'll never understand, Daniel," Ian said softly.
And then they were both bathed in light as the curtain opened behind them. Ian started to turn around when something grabbed him around the waist--something invisible but painfully strong--and pulled him backward into Ashton's shrine.
Shan and Lydia eased Xia's torn and bloody body onto the massage table while Shan tried to calm her growing fury. Buckley was a traitor. She had sent Ian with Buckley. Ian was in danger again. Why hadn't she seen through his lies? Why hadn't Ian? Too wrapped up in each other, that's why.
"Lydia..." Xia mumbled. "She...broke his arm."
Shan looked at Lydia.
"He poisoned us," Lydia spat. "And if I hadn't fallen unconscious, I would have broken more than just an arm."
Xia chuckled. Her laughter quickly devolved into spasms.
"Help her," Shan said to Lydia. "If I'm not back soon, then try to hide until Sunday and sneak onto one of the boats. I'm going after the animals."
Lydia's gaze burned.
"And then after Buckley," Shan added. But first, Ian.
Lydia nodded. Shan could feel the hatred swirling inside the girl. If Shan didn't survive this next ordeal, Lydia would be well on her way to becoming another Xia. Lydia deserved so much better than that. Everyone did.
Shan ran, and tried not to think about Ian. But it was hopeless. She saw his face as it had been in the university that night, bloodied and almost unconscious. If Buckley touched him...
Shan growled. She burst into room after room, startling servants and setting off alarms.
It didn't matter. If they came at her, she would drop them. Ian would not die in this place, by his friend's hand. Shan would not allow such an injustice to occur, even if it meant ripping out six dozen throats on her way to find him.
The clusters of servants thickened as Shan raced through the hallways. And dispersed like birds when they saw her coming.
Smart servants.
Ian. He had given her the crane. He had taken her to the dragon. He had brought her to the auction and into the artifact room. He had found the secret passage.
Would she even be here without his help? Her father had never helped her mother like that. He'd sat in his musty room with his books and read all the hours that she trained. Shan's mother had been a better fighter for being more alone. A far better fighter than Shan.
She was getting closer to Ashton. Shan turned a corner. Three men jumped in front of her. She barely slowed as she kicked the first in the groin, popped the second man's shoulder from its joint, and slammed the third man's head into the wall. Four more men came at her. A few screams later, and they were down, clutching their wounds and bleeding into the carpet. They'd live, and they'd remember.
Ahead of her, at the end of the hallway, stood gold-gilt double doors carved with twin dragons. The heart of Ashton's fortress.
And she wanted Ashton's heart.
Ian tried to struggle against the invisible force dragging him backward, but there was nothing to grab hold of, nothing to twist away from. He was helpless as the force yanked him into the room and then pinned his back against the stone wall. Ian tucked his chin down toward his chest just before he hit. No time for another concussion when Shan needed him conscious.
Victor Ashton stood in the center of the room wearing a gold-embroidered kung-fu suit. One of his hands rested on the circle of jade animals while the other hand stretched out and directed the invisible grip around Ian's waist. Ashton smiled.
"Impressive, yes? It's quite a bit more power than even I was expecting. I'm looking forward to testing it on our little Jade Circle friend."
"She's not here," Ian growled. "I'm doing this alone."
Ashton chuckled and twisted his hand slightly. Ian gritted his teeth against the sudden pain crushing his ribs and stomach.
"The circle shows me truth from lies," Ashton said, "and you are most certainly lying." He flicked a finger.
Something kicked Ian in the gut. Air left his lungs in one great whoosh. His body wanted to double over, to ease the pain, but it couldn't. Ashton's power held him firm against the wall.
"Hey, Vic. We agreed you wouldn't kill him."
Buckley had regained his feet and his gun, and now leaned against the wall by the curtain, his broken arm still pulled tight against his torso. He held the gun loosely in his good hand, not an obvious threat, but still a present one.
Ashton's mouth quirked into a smile. "We also agreed that I wouldn't kill you."
They stared at each other, giving Ian a chance to fill his lungs with air again. If Bucks shot Ashton, maybe Ian would have a chance to grab the jade animals and get the hell out. The two golden doors on the opposite side of the room looked like a promising route for escape.
Buckley laughed, breaking the silence. "Yeah, we did agree on that, Vic. You thinking of reneging on that part, too?"
"It depends on what you intend to do with that gun, Daniel."
Ian tried to think. He tried to empty his mind. Those flickering video screens captured his gaze, and he watched the same fight from earlier, a woman against a dozen men.
Buckley's voice cut into Ian's reverie. "I don't want to shoot you, Vic."
Ashton laughed. "Actually, you do want to shoot me," he said, "but the relevant question is, will you try?"
Silence while Buckley pondered. Ian wanted to shout, "Do it! Kill the fucking bastard!" But the longer Ashton's attention stayed trained on Buckley, the better his own chance of survival.
"No," Buckley said finally, "I don't think I will."
Ashton nodded. "Then if you don't want to see your friend die, I suggest you leave now."
Buckley looked at Ian. "Sorry, Dash. I tried."
Ian said nothing. There were no words for what he felt, no number or arrangement of insults that did justice to Buckley's betrayal. If Daniel wanted forgiveness, then he needed to ask his god, because he sure as hell wasn't going to find it on Earth.
Buckley shrugged. He dropped his gun to the floor, turned back, and slipped through the curtain. That cowardly, worthless piece of--
"Now," Ashton said, "let's see what we can do about getting you killed."
Ian only had time to see Ashton's hand start moving before his ears rang from the sounds of his own screams.
CHAPTER 15
The screams were Ian's.
Shan ran for the double-doors. Ashton's lackeys popped out of hallways and alcoves to bar her way. Ian's voice filled her head, made her drunk with anger. She kicked too hard and crushed a man's throat. She broke a woman's knee, and then her other knee. She slammed another man into the wall so hard that his eyes rolled to white.
And still, Ian screamed.
A small part of her mind not occupied with destruction recognized these sounds as a good thing. Ian was alive. Whatever was happening, at least he was still alive.
Ashton, however, was as good as dead.
Shan launched herself at the doors, determined to shatter them as the tiger had done. They opened just before she hit. Shan tumbled into the room, and the doors slammed shut behind her. She flipped to her feet.
Ashton, draped in gold silk, stood in the center of the room with the Jade Circle animals. Ian lay crumpled, but moving, against the far wall, amid several large smears of blood. His screaming had stopped as soon as she had entered the room, but Shan could still hear it in her ears, could still feel it grating against her bones.
Energy crackled and flowed through everything in the room--the walls, the floor, Ian, Shan--and Ashton pulled it all into himself through the Jade Circle. Shan wouldn't be surprised if the net reached even farther, and gathered chi from the mountain itself. Video screens flickered around the room, but Shan ignored them. Her vision only had room for Ashton and the ruined lump of Ian's body behind him.
"Let him go," she said to Ashton.
> Ashton dropped his hand. Ian slumped to the floor with a groan, his face hidden against the wall. "That was the only request you get to make," Ashton said.
Shan leaped.
Ashton lashed out and raked the air, his hand shaped like a claw. What felt like four huge knives sliced Shan in the side and flung her backward. She twisted to minimize the damage as she struck the stone. Deep gashes ripped her clothes and flesh. She left her own bloody trail as she slid down the wall.
The pain seared. It felt as if her insides had caught fire. Shan gritted her teeth and struggled to her feet.
"Nice trick." Shan turned and spat blood onto the perfect marble floor.
"I've got more," Ashton said.
His hand blurred. A brick of force smacked Shan in the side of the head and knocked her off her feet again. Blow after blow fell on her body. Her legs and arms bruised. The air left her lungs and refused to return. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her skull hit the floor, the wall, and the floor again. Her body tried to block the onslaught. Tried, and failed.
The attack stopped.
Shan's vision returned as the pain receded. Ashton, with his long black hair, watched her from the center of the room.
"Is this why you don't allow men into the Jade Circle?" Ashton said. "Because we wield the power so much better than you?"
Shan struggled to make sense of his words, but the meaning seemed just out of reach. She shook her head. Blood spattered the floor around her.
"Men..."
It was all she could manage.
"Yes, men," Ashton said. "Do you know how badly I wanted to study there, at the Jade Circle, with my mother?"
"Men..." Shan tried again, "...temple."
Ashton's white teeth glared. "Oh, yes, men can study at the temples. Men can give up their lives and become monks and live off rice and rats in order to learn. But that's not how it worked at the Jade Circle, was it?"
Shan shook her head. The Jade Circle had been full of love, happy children, and adults at peace with life and each other. Martial arts training added texture and depth to one's life; it didn't replace it.
