Crouching Tiger, Forbidden Vampire

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  He squeezed his eyes shut. You could be her hero.

  A knock sounded at the door and he jumped back, releasing her.

  “Jia?” Rajiv called from the front porch. “Are you asleep?”

  Her eyes wide with horror, she lunged forward and grabbed Russell by his T-shirt. “They mustn’t find you here!”

  “I’ll just go.”

  “No! I still need to talk to you.”

  Meaning she still wanted to convince him to take her with him. “I can—”

  “Hide!” She ran over to the screen, pushed it back, and motioned for him to come.

  As he approached, his gaze landed on the white banner with the figure of a man painted on it and a knife firmly embedded in his groin. “What the—”

  She gasped. “My favorite knife! I almost left without it. How could I be so forgetful?”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “I’m a little more concerned about your aim.”

  She winced. “I was . . . distracted.”

  “Remind me never to distract you.”

  “Jia?” Rajiv knocked on the door again.

  “Just a minute,” she called back. “I-I was asleep.” She dashed across the room and furiously pulled the rope back through the window. Loops of red and gold silk pooled onto the floor.

  With a snort, Russell yanked her favorite knife from the wall, then levitated up to the beam and sliced the material free.

  “Thank you!” she whispered, bundling up the fabric in her arms.

  He dropped quietly to the ground and helped her gather up the rope and carry it to the small area behind the screen.

  “Don’t leave!” she warned him. She dropped her backpack on the floor by his feet, kicked off her boots, then stretched the screen across the room.

  He sat on the floor, surrounded by mounds of gold and red silk. It was darker here, since the screen blocked the moonlight that filtered through the open window. Even so, he spotted a thick, quilted pallet folded and stashed in the corner. Was that her bed? Then this small area had to be her bedroom. He winced, imagining Rajiv’s reaction if he caught a vampire in the princess’s bedchamber.

  Jia’s soft footsteps crossed the room to the door, then Russell heard the scrape of the bolt. “Is there something wrong, Rajiv?”

  Heavier footsteps entered the room, and the door closed. “Everything’s fine,” Rajiv answered. “I just wanted to give this to you.”

  “What is it?” Jia asked, and Russell shifted closer to a gap in the screen. Unfortunately, all he could see was Rajiv’s back.

  “Another gift from the Grand Tiger of South Korea,” Rajiv explained. “It must be very expensive, since he sent it with a courier.”

  “Oh.” Jia didn’t sound overly thrilled.

  “The courier told me he had a tough time getting it through customs, so it delayed his arrival here,” Rajiv continued. “The Grand Tiger insisted that you receive the gift today, so the courier begged me to bring it straight to you. Apparently, you’re supposed to receive a gift every day until your betrothed arrives.”

  Betrothed? Russell sat back. Jia was engaged? To a Grand Tiger? He closed his eyes, no longer wanting to see, and wishing he didn’t have to hear.

  “They really shouldn’t go to so much trouble,” Jia murmured.

  “It is a bit much,” Rajiv agreed, “but look at it this way. They’re definitely serious about the marriage. And they’re trying hard to impress you.”

  “I suppose,” Jia mumbled.

  A sick feeling gnawed at Russell’s gut, and he twisted his hand around a clump of red silk. What the hell had he expected? She was a princess after all. And to think he’d come so close to taking her with him into danger.

  “Open it,” Rajiv urged.

  There was a creaking sound of a lid being lifted, followed by Jia’s gasp.

  Rajiv whistled. “That’s got to be worth a fortune. And you know what? It would look perfect with the bracelets from your mom. Let’s see.” A chest opened.

  “It’s late,” Jia protested.

  “Come on, I want to see you look like a princess.” There was a pause and some rustling sounds, then Rajiv said, “I wish Grandfather could see you now. I wish he could see the wedding.”

  “I know.” Jia sighed. “I miss him, too.”

  “You should probably make your wedding gown from all that red and gold silk they sent you yesterday,” Rajiv said. “I have a feeling that’s why they sent it.”

  Russell scoffed silently as he tossed the material away. She had used an engagement present for her escape?

  “I’ll let you get back to sleep now,” Rajiv said, and his footsteps crossed to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  The door shut, then Jia’s steps rushed to the door and she slid the bolt.

  Russell eased to his feet and opened the screen a few feet. When Jia turned to face him, his heart stilled for a moment. Even in her plain clothes, she looked every bit a princess. The moonlight shone around her, gleaming off thick, raven-black hair, smooth, flawless skin, and large, golden cat eyes. A long necklace of gold and jade encircled her neck, and a jade pendant of a tiger nestled between her breasts. More gold and jade decorated the cufflike bracelets around her wrists.

  He leaned back against the wall as his heart slumped.

  She stepped toward him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  “You think not?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re engaged. To a Grand Tiger. A wealthy one.”

  “No. Not at all.” She took the necklace off and dropped it back into its box. “His son. The prince.”

  Of course. No grasping old geezer for Jia. She was going to have the dashing young prince. A sliver of anger sliced at his gut.

  “I haven’t agreed to it.” She shut the box.

  “You’re accepting the gifts.”

  She gave him an annoyed look. “He’s coming to meet me in two weeks. If I don’t like him, I’ll return the gifts and tell him to get lost.”

  “You’ve never met him before?”

  “No. I didn’t even know about the engagement till yesterday. Grandfather arranged it when I was ten. I’m only going along with it for now out of respect for my grandfather.”

  Russell shifted his weight. “So if you like the guy, you’re going to . . . go through with it?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is I need to find Han and kill him before the prince arrives. I have thirteen days now.”

  Russell snorted. So she expected him to help her, then deliver her back here in time for her wedding. “You have no business out in the jungle fighting Han’s soldiers.”

  Her eyes simmered with anger as she ripped the bracelets off her wrists. “Do you see these? They’re all I have left of my parents. I will see my family avenged. Whether you help me or not.”

  “Not.”

  “Wait.” She dropped the bracelets into an open trunk, then dashed toward him. “Pay no attention to my anger. It makes me say foolish things. I know very well that you are my best chance at succeeding. Please.” She grabbed his T-shirt in her fists. “Take me with you.”

  He slowly pried her hands loose. “You’re a princess. A betrothed princess. I can’t put you in danger.”

  “If you don’t help me, I’ll have to do it on my own, and that would be even more dangerous.”

  He winced inwardly. That much was true. He gently squeezed her hands. “Stay here. You have family and a future. Enjoy your life. I’ll take care of Han, and when I’m done, I’ll bring his golden mask to you and lay it at your feet.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. “I know you would. I believe you, but . . . I need more.”

  “I’m sorry.” He released her and teleported away.

  Chapter Five

  I am Xiao Fang. One of the last of my kind. Centuries ago, there were many of us. We roamed the earth. We ruled the skies. Men feared us.

  Now I fear man.

  T
hree months ago, I breathed fire for the first time. Soon I will shift for the first time. I wish I had my wings now so I could escape. And fly home.

  With a black pen, I slowly draw a Chinese word on a sheet of white paper. The man with the golden mask has given me several black markers and reams of paper. He has given me children’s books with pictures and words. Each day, I am to learn how to write a new word, he says, so we will be able to communicate.

  As a dragon shifter, I cannot speak. My throat is designed for fire, not words. The women who raised me in Beyul-La spoke Tibetan and Chinese, so I understand those languages. They taught me how to write a few words. Two of them had the gift of communicating with winged creatures, so they could read my thoughts, as I could read theirs. Queen Nima and Winifred. They were like mother and sister to me. And then there was Norjee, the mortal boy who could talk to me in my mind. I called him my brother.

  I finish writing the word, then set it next to the other papers I have written. They all say the same thing.

  Home.

  I pace about the small room. We are in a new place now, completely underground. Last night, someone tried to kill the man with the golden mask—Master Han, he calls himself. He teleported me here, where he claims we will be safe. He will protect me from the evil vampires and shifters. I should trust him, he says. He will let no harm come to me, for I am special.

  I am a prisoner. I have all the food I could want. I have clothes and a warm bed. But the door is always locked. When I am allowed to wander about the camp, I am closely guarded.

  Some of the guards take pity on me. During the day, when Han is not awake and watching, they bring me freshly baked bread. One officer named Wu Shen gave me a roll of tape, so I started taping my written pages on a wall in my small room. I have four rows now that stretch across the wall. With nothing else to do, I start a fifth row. Soon the wall will be completely covered with the same word.

  Home.

  I have been to many different camps in the last two months. The guards are always the same. They wonder why Master Han wears a mask. During the day, when Han locks himself up for his death-sleep, it is safe for them to speculate. Some say he wears the mask to hide a hideously disfigured face. Disease or fire, they say, and it must have happened before he became a vampire. Some claim he is simply ugly as a reflection of his evil soul. Others argue that cannot be, for no one is more evil than the demon Darafer, and he is fair of face.

  I believe Master Han wears the mask to hide his many faces. There is the face he adopts for me. Kind, caring, gently spoken. He wishes to keep me safe. He will take care of me. His words are always warm, but his eyes are cold. I am unsure whether to trust him.

  There is the face he uses when he addresses his army. He is fearless, masterful, in charge. When I see it, I believe he is strong. I am tempted to trust him.

  Then there is the face that reacts whenever there is trouble from the evil vampires and shifters. He claims they are persecuting him for no reason. They want him dead. He doubles the guard and goes into hiding. When I see this, I believe he is weak. I know not to trust him.

  When his soldiers are defeated, he screams in rage and his men cower, for he will seize a man and take him into his private room for feeding. We can hear the man scream before he grows quiet. Then Han returns with the dead body, ripped to shreds and sucked dry. When I see this face, I fear him.

  I complete the fifth row of papers taped to the wall just as I hear the lock being turned. I have no windows in this underground lair, but I sense it is nighttime. Han visits me every night, so I step away from the wall and steel my nerves.

  The door opens. He stands in the doorway, and the candlelight in my room makes his golden mask gleam. He enters, and the guards close the door.

  His cold eyes inspect me while he speaks softly, his voice laced with kindness. “How are you today, son? Did you sleep well? Do you have enough to eat?”

  I bow my head in greeting, wishing he wouldn’t call me “son.”

  “Did you learn to write any new words?” He glances toward the wall, and his body stiffens.

  I feel the anger growing inside him, and I step back.

  “Why do you persist in this nonsense?” His hands curl into fists as he turns back to face me. “Why can’t you do as I ask? I take good care of you. I told you to trust me!”

  He lifts a hand as if to strike me, and I flinch. This is the angry face that I fear. I have seen men die when Han is like this.

  His fist shakes, as if he is fighting for control. Then, with a growl, he attacks the wall, ripping the papers down. “How many times do I have to tell you? Your home is gone! I’m all you have left now.” He turns to me, his eyes glowing with rage. “If you want to live, you will trust me.”

  Tears sting my eyes. I am tired of being alone, tired of being afraid. I am tempted to give in. Give up. He will be kind to me if I give up.

  My head hangs in shame, and my gaze falls on the torn papers scattered across the floor. Home.

  How can I give up my home, my heritage? Anger burns in my chest and simmers through my veins. I am dragon. I belong with my own kind. My dragon brother and sister, Huo and Chu, are still in Beyul-La. More eggs are waiting to hatch. I am the oldest. I will be their leader.

  I snatch a paper off the floor and show it to Han. Home.

  He rips it from my hands. “Your home is gone!”

  A tear rolls down my face as I grab another paper and lift it to my chest. Home.

  “You stubborn—” Han growls, then walks away a few feet. His hands clench and unclench, then abruptly he turns to me. “Fine. I’ll take you there. You can see for yourself.”

  My heart lurches with hope. He’ll take me home?

  He grabs hold of my arms, and everything goes black.

  When we land, my nostrils fill with the familiar scent of home—crisp mountain air, pine trees. The sky is clear, lit up with a trillion stars and a moon almost one-third full.

  But no one has come to greet me. We have landed by the central fire pit, and it is cold. I spin about, surveying the valley. The houses are destroyed. My breath catches in my chest. Where are the warrior women of Beyul-La? This has been their valley for thousands of years. They would never give it up. They have a sacred pact with the dragons.

  “The women are gone,” Han says. “If any of them are still alive, then they abandoned you.”

  I shake my head and run toward the sacred mountain. The women will be in there. Norjee will be there, along with Huo, Chu, and the eggs. I look up, expecting to see the top of the sacred mountain covered with snow.

  It is gone. I stumble to a stop. How? How could a mountain disappear?

  “It happened after we left,” Han says as he approaches me. “I brought you here so we could rescue your dragon brothers and sisters. When the evil vampires and shifters trapped us inside the mountain, I knew it wasn’t safe, and I teleported you out. I was injured. A knife in my back from one of the evil ones. But still I managed to get you out in time.”

  I gasp for air. I have a vague memory of being trapped inside with screaming soldiers. But what happened to the women? To Huo and Chu and the eggs?

  “The evil ones blew it up.” Han stands beside me, pointing at what used to be the sacred mountain. “Look at it. Nothing left but a pile of rubble. No one could survive that. Those bastards murdered my soldiers. Everyone inside the cave died. The women of Beyul-La. The dragons.”

  I stumble back as if I have been struck across the face.

  “You would be dead, too, if I hadn’t saved you.” Han turns toward me. “Your home is gone. The dragons are dead. You are the last of your kind.”

  My body shakes so hard that I crumble to my knees. The last of my kind. How can this be? How can I bear it? My brother and sister gone. The eggs gone. Norjee gone. My mortal mother and all the women who raised me—gone.

  I am alone. Alone, the word echoes in my mind, and I grasp my head in pain. I open my mouth to cry out, but no sound can emerge.
<
br />   Alone. Alone. My skin grows hot. Heat gathers in my chest, then sizzles up my throat. Smoke escapes from my nostrils. I want to scream fire.

  “I’m sorry.” Han reaches out to touch my shoulder but quickly jerks his hand back.

  The heat of my skin has burned him.

  “You should have trusted me,” he growls. “It would have spared you the pain of having to see this.”

  I curl up, hugging my knees to my chest, resting my head on my knees. Last of my kind. I can live for five hundred years. I will be alone for a long time.

  “Your home is with me now,” Han says. “I will take care of you.”

  Is there any point in resisting? My despair runs deep. I might as well give up.

  He lies, a voice slips into my head. It is soft, but insistent. He lies.

  I lift my head. Is someone speaking to me? Who are you? Where are you?

  Movement in the sky catches my attention, and I see a large bird land on the branch of the nearest tree. It is an owl. Queen Nima’s owl!

  Where is my mother? I ask the owl. Where are my brother and sister? Are they truly dead?

  The queen left before the mountain was destroyed, the owl answers. She took Huo and Chu with her. And the eggs.

  I scramble to my feet, my heart beating fast. Where are they?

  Far away where they will be safe, the owl tells me. After you were taken, two of the eggs hatched. The vampire woman, Emma, bonded with the babies and took them far away so they would be safe.

  I am not alone. Tears run down my face and cool my hot skin.

  “I know this must be upsetting for you,” Han grumbles. “Let’s go back now. To your real home.” He reaches out for me, but I step back.

  Is Norjee nearby? Or any of the women? I ask the owl. Can you find them for me?

  I believe they left with the tiger shifters. The owl cocks his head. If I ask the eagles, they might know where the tigers live.

  Find them, I urge the owl. Find Norjee. He can talk to you. I am being held in an underground camp. I know not where it is. I will call the birds that live close by so they can tell you where I am located.

  The owl rustles its wings. It has been boring since everyone left. I am proud to be of service again.