by mag
"I cannot."
Tigers hands tightened. "In another five seconds you will die," he threatened.
The man's eyes bulged. "Weng..." he gasped as he tried to break free from the steellike fingers. "Please, you are killing me."
"I know," Tiger said flatly, relentlessly.
"Weng Tsan Tsi," the man whispered.
"Why?"
"Tiger," Bethany implored, "you'll kill him."
Ignoring her, Tiger held the man tight against the wall. "Why?" he growled.
"The dragon." The man's breathing was labored as Tiger loosened his grip. "He has waited for years for your father to make his move. Now it is you, you and the woman who pursue the statue. He has killed for it in the past." His eyes rolled upward. "He will kill me now."
"Why does he want the woman?"
The frightened eyes shifted to Bethany. "If he has her he knows you will tell him where the dragon is hidden."
"I should kill you," Tiger said. "But I will let you live so that you can take a message back to Weng Tsan Tsi. Tell him I'm not afraid of him. Tell him if he sends another man after me that I will kill that man.
If he ever again attempts to take the woman I'll go after him and kill him if it's the last thing I do on this earth." Tiger thrust the man away from him. "Tell him!" he said in a low and deadly voice.
Still shaken from what had happened, Bethany pressed her back against the rough wooden slats of the open truck and tried not to look at Tiger. She wasn't rare how he had arranged for them to ride in the back of the truck amid the piled sacks of grain. After what had happened in the passageway she had followed him wordlessly, not even objecting when, back at the hotel, he rummaged through both suitcases, threw out what he thought they didn't need, and crammed the rest into one case.
"Keep your head down," he'd ordered when they left the hotel. "Stay two paces behind me and do not speak unless I tell you to." His voice had been coolly impersonal and for the first time since she'd known him Bethany was afraid. This was a man she hadn't known existed, a street fighter, a man who, given the provocation, could kill. She was shocked, unable to equate him with the man she had fallen in love with.
It was late afternoon. The air was hot and still, the dirt road bumpy and filled with dust. Bethany wished she could unbutton the Mao jacket and take off the coolie hat. But knowing she couldn't, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about the heat. They hadn't eaten since the sweet buns and the green tea at breakfast. She was hungry but knew better than to speak of it. Tiger hadn't wanted her to come; now she wished with all her heart she hadn't.
At sunset they rattled through a village. "Kuaot'ou," the driver said.
"This is as far as he's going." Tiger took the bag, then Bethany's hand and helped her out of the truck. After he had paid the driver and watched him drive off to the left, he said, "We'd better try to find a place to stay."
Where? Bethany wondered as she looked around her. This was only a village of small, mean houses. She saw no hotel as she followed Tiger down the dusty street of the town.
"There's the market." Tiger started toward it. "I'll buy food for tonight and tomorrow."
Bethany followed him in silence, her head lowered so that no one could see her face, while he bought oranges and pears at one stand, then moved on to other stands. Past swimming eels, live frogs hooked together on a string and dead snakes, to buy buns, lotus nuts and roasted chestnuts. He handed all the bags to her and murmured, "It will look better if you carry them."
Bethany took them without speaking. Everything was strange. This was another world, a world she didn't understand. As she didn't understand this man who motioned her to follow him with a jerk of his head.
They found a room in a house a short distance from the market. It was a small room with two hammocks, a crude table, and no bathroom.
"The facilities are at the back of the house," Tiger told her.
Bethany didn't answer. She put the things Tiger had bought down on the table and moved to the hamnock. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else.
"Mrs. Weng will give us dinner," Tiger said.
"I'll just have some fruit."
He shook his head. "You need hot food. Come along, don't argue."
Bethany glared at him, but she had no choice. For as long as this trip lasted she had to do as he said. But when this was over, when they found the dragon, she'd tell Tiger what she thought of him.
She had no idea what she ate for dinner. Once, in a low voice, she asked, "What is this?" and Tiger replied, "Better not ask." She made herself eat most of k, choking it down with green tea. God, how she hated green tea! If she ever got out of China she'd never have a cup of green tea for as long as she lived.
Because there were no lights, the woman of the house gave them a kerosene lantern. "I'll bring some water in so we can bathe," Tiger said as they made their way to their room. He hesitated. "Would you like me to go with you out to the yard?''
"No thank you," Bethany said coolly. "I can find my way."
Tiger handed her the lantern. She held it aloft and resolutely made her way out of the house. The yard was dark, there was no moon to light her way. She stood for a moment, not knowing which way to go, then spotted a well-worn path. There, behind what looked like a lilac bush, she found a crude wooden structure. The facilities, she thought grimly.
When Bethany returned to the room Tiger took the lantern and left. He returned a few minutes later with a bucket of water, a piece of soap, and a towel. Silently he and Bethany undressed, she with her back to him. She bathed, put on her nightgown, and turned to the hammock.
She'd never slept in a hammock before and wasn't even sure how to get in one. Tentatively she sat on the edge. The other side rose in the air, almost throwing her out.
"Sit in the middle," Tiger said, "then swing your feet up."
Bethany tried it. Half on and half off she lay back and closed her eyes. She heard Tiger's footsteps cross to her and did not open her eyes.
"We must talk," he said.
"I'm tired."
"I know you are, but this is necessary." Bethany opened her eyes.
"You were shocked by what happened today, by the way I handled the man who had been following me."
"You could have killed him."
"No, I knew what I was doing."
"Because you've done it before?"
"Damn it, Bethany..." Tiger ran a tired hand through his black hair, then dropped to the floor beside her. "I've been expecting somebody to follow me from the time I left Tsingyun. After the attempt to kidnap you I knew we were being watched, that we would continue to be watched until we made some kind of a move. That's why I didn't want you with me. If the men who were after the dragon followed me then you would be safe. But you were determined to come with me, Bethany, and I am not sure whether it was because you wanted to be with me or because you didn't trust me."
"Not that," she said. "Never that."
Tiger went on as though he hadn't heard her. "What happened this morning was inevitable. I knew I would be followed, I knew there would be a confrontation. I didn't want you to see it."
"You would have killed him," Bethany said again. "I saw your face. I—"
"He had information I needed." Tiger's voice was cold. "He will go back to the man who sent him, to Weng Tsan Tsi. But don't think that because he has gone that another won't take his place. From now on we must watch every move we make. We must be ready to escape if escape is possible, to stand and fight if it is not. I didn't want you to come but you are here and I can't send you back." His voice tightened. "This morning I asked you to do whatever I told you to do. You disobeyed me, but you can't disobey me again. Both of our lives might depend on your obedience." He took her hand. "On your trust."
Bethany looked at him for a long moment. Then she took her hand away. "I'll do whatever you say," she said, "for as long as we are in China. But when this is over... it will be over.''
Tiger s
at back on his heels. "As you wish, Bethany."
Then he stood up and went to the other hammock. But it was a long time before Tiger slept that night. He knew he had been rough on Bethany and that she had been shocked by the day's events. Even as his hands had gripped his pursuer's throat this morning he'd been aware of Bethany's shocked gasp, the look of horror on her face.
Tiger closed his eyes. This was a dangerous game they were playing, she had to realize that. She wasn't in Ohio, she was in China. A lot of money was involved, money that men would kill for.
His mother had said that men had killed and been killed for the golden dragon. Tiger knew now that it was true. He knew too that he would have to be tough and resilient if he and Bethany were to come through this unscathed. He'd have given his soul to know that she was safely back in Tsingyun with his mother. And he knew that he would give his life to protect her.
With a sigh Tiger closed his eyes. Suddenly, for a reason he couldn't explain, he thought about the legend of the girl who had been Flowering Peach, and of her lover, the young poet who was turned into a dragon.
"The golden dragon is a symbol of love," his mother had said. "A love that will last forever."
Of a lost love. Tiger took a deep breath. He wanted to go to Bethany. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her. That if the dragon was going to come between them he didn't want it—he only wanted her.
But Tiger didn't go to her. Instead he closed his eyes and thought of the next day's journey.
Chapter 14
Tiger was not in the room when Bethany awoke the next morning. She yawned, stretched, then made the mistake of rolling over... and rolled right out of the hammock. She was still on the floor, trying to gather her wits, when Tiger opened the door.
"What happened?" He put a package on the table. "Are you hurt?"
Bethany looked up at him as she ran a hand through her tousled hair. "I fell out of bed, I mean out of the hammock. I just turned over and the next thing I knew I was on the floor."
Suppressing a smile, Tiger helped her up. "Did you hurt yourself?"
"No." Bethany stepped away from him. "What time is it?"
"A little past seven. I've arranged a ride to Wenzhou. We have to leave at eight."
"In a truck?"
Tiger nodded. "But this time we ride in the front." He handed her the package. "I bought you a cheong-sam. I thought it would be cooler than the pants and jacket you've been wearing. You must still wear the hat of course."
Bethany opened the package and removed the dark-blue Chinese dress. Tiger was right, it would be cooler than the pants and jacket.
"Thank you." Her voice was still formal and withdrawn. "That was thoughtful of you."
"And here's a thermos of hot tea. I'm afraid that's all we have time for."
"Green tea." Bethany sighed as she opened the thermos and filled the cup.
"We can have the fruit and bread later, on the truck. Wenzhou is less than a hundred miles from here. Once we're there we'll get a train to take us to Hangzhou, then on to Nanjing." Tiger hesitated. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how he didn't want it to be like this at all. He knew it was difficult for her. He'd try to make it as easy for her, but he had to be strong and make Bethany strong or they'd never come through this.
Instead he told her not to take too long dressing, and that he'd be waiting outside.
The cheongsam was tight across her bust, but aside from that it fitted. Bethany applied her makeup, tied her hair back and put on the coolie hat. Just before she snapped her mirror shut she looked into it again, into the face of a stranger.
"I'm Bethany Adams," she whispered to the mirror. "I'm twenty-four years old and I live in Tiffin, Ohio." She took a deep breath. "I'm an American," she said.
The rain started an hour after they were on the road. Tiger and the driver sat in the front of the cab; Bethany sat behind them on a jump seat next to the suitcase. Tiger and the other man talked. Bethany looked out of the window at the rain.
The road was rutted, and the rain only made it worse. They passed through several villages similar to the one where she and Tiger had spent the night. There was almost no traffic on the road, only an occasional handcart and one or two bicycles. Bethany ate an orange and tried to sleep.
By the time they reached Wenzhou the rain had slowed. Tiger asked directions to the railroad station, then said to Bethany, "We will ask if there is a train to Chinhai this afternoon."
Bethany waited while he went to the ticket window to inquire. There were only a few people in the musty-smelling station: a woman with a red-cheeked baby, a husband and wife with a little boy who watched Bethany's every move, and a young man in a blue coolie suit and Mao cap who glanced away when Bethany looked at him.
When Tiger returned he said, "We're in luck. The train for Chinhai leaves in an hour. We'll spend the night there and take the train for Hangzhou and Nanjing in the morning."
Bethany nodded without speaking.
"We have time to find a restaurant and have lunch," he said. "Or if you prefer we can eat the fruit and bread I bought yesterday."
"The fruit and bread will be fine." Bethany glanced up at him as she spoke.
"Keep your head down," Tiger warned in a low voice. He took the fruit and buns out of the straw bag she carried, casually glancing around the room as he did, past the woman with the child, the husband and wife, the young man in the Mao cap whose nose was peeling from a fading sunburn.
Tiger handed Bethany a pear and said, "I'm going to buy a newspaper."
Bethany nodded without speaking. She felt curiously enervated; she didn't want to eat or move or think. It was as though all of this strangeness and the difficulties with Tiger had suddenly become too much for her to cope with. She was bereft, tired in mind and her body, and very, very alone.
"You're not eating," Tiger said when he returned.
"I'm not hungry."
"At least have some fruit."
Bethany took a bite out of the pear.
When they boarded the train the young man in the Mao cap followed them into soft class. Tiger continued reading the newspaper, preoccupied with the thought of the monsoon and that in another day or two he and Bethany would have to find a boat to make the trip up the Yangtze to Chungtai. If there was a storm the trip would have to be delayed. That thought didn't please him. He wanted to get this over with as soon as he could. Maybe when he and Bethany had the golden dragon and were on their way back to Hong Kong things would be better between them.
Tiger thought of how it had been on the boat, of the long love-filled nights, of the sunny days... Suddenly his back stiffened. Sunny days! The young man who had boarded when they did had a sunburned nose. That was strange, as there hadn't been much sun in this part of China for the past week or two. At any rate the Chinese weren't sun worshippers like the Americans or the Europeans. When they went out they wore hats to protect them from the sun. Even fishermen who spent their lives on the water usually had a protective canvas to shade them from the sun. But a man on a pleasure craft—like the craft that had pursued them on their journey to China—didn't worry about exposure to the sun.
Was this young man in his Mao cap one of the men who had pursued them?
Tiger debated about telling Bethany, and decided he wouldn't. She was having a difficult time coping; he didn't want to add to her worries. And very likely he was jumping to a false conclusion. But just in case, he'd keep an eye on the young man.
It was late afternoon when the train chugged into Chinhai. It had been raining for over a hour and as Tiger and Bethany walked through the small station they saw that the rain had increased. Tiger looked around. The young man was nowhere in sight. He felt a momentary sense of relief, sure now that he'd been wrong, that his imagination had been working overtime.
"Wait here," he told Bethany. "I will ask about a hotel and see if I can arrange for a taxi or a pedicab." He put the suitcase and the basket of food at the foot of a pillar.
&nbs
p; Bethany nodded without speaking, tightening her hands on the small case she carried as she watched Tiger disappear in a crowd near the door. She hoped tonight they would be in a hotel with a bed. Two beds. She was bone weary and discouraged. All she wanted was a cup of tea, even green tea, a hot shower, and a bed. She—
"Excuse me." The young man with the Mao cap stood in front of her. In careful English he said, "Your husband asked me to tell you he has a taxi waiting." He picked up the suitcase and the basket and started back into the station.
"Wait," Bethany said. "Where are you going?"
"Your husband is at the rear door, madame." He smiled a youthful smile. "The rain has worsened, he did not want you to get unduly wet."
Bethany looked around uncertainly. "My...my husband told me to wait here."
"But the cab is waiting around the corner. If you do not come it will go away. Your husband said that you must hurry, that is why he sent me to get you, rather than leave the cab."
"All right." Bethany nodded. "Let's go." Her heels tapped on the cement floor of the now empty station. She looked beyond the young man, hoping to see Tiger waiting for her at the entrance. But the entrance was empty. She peered out into the rain. A gray car was parked at the curb but there was no sign of a taxi.
Bethany turned to the young man. "Where...?" she started to say, then gasped as he grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the car. She whirled around and cried out, trying desperately to break away from him. But it was too late. The back door of the car swung open. She was thrust inside, the young man jumped in behind her, the tires screeched and the car pulled away from the curb.
Because of the rain it took Tiger longer than he expected to find a cab. He went two blocks before he found one and when he did he said, "I want to go to a hotel, a good one."
"I know the best. I will take you there."
"First we must go back to the station. My wife is waiting there because of the rain." Tiger got into the cab and closed the door. When the driver pulled into the station entrance Tiger got out. "I will be only a moment," he said.
