Stolen Bloodline Page 17

  Tressa’s eyes bore down on him. He hated to leave her now, but Tressa and Brox would understand after he filled them in later. Jasper didn’t want to bother their house guest with ghosts, murder, and attempted assassinations.

  “I’m quite sure it can wait,” his sister said.

  “No, it can’t,” both Jasper and Mr. Zhi said in unison.

  Though no one else could hear the ghost, it wasn’t enough to stop the man from stating his opinion. Jasper hurried from the room, not bothering to retrieve his jacket from the butler, and dashed out into the night.

  “You can’t run the whole way,” Mr. Zhi chided.

  No, he couldn’t. At least, not if he wanted to get there before sunrise. Jasper turned and moved down the side of Brox’s town home. He’d forced-started Brox’s motorcar once. It would probably be even easier the second time.

  Blessedly, it was. Soon, Jasper was flying down streets and tearing across town. Mr. Zhi, much to Jasper’s surprise, chose to ride in the seat next to him.

  “Tell me exactly what is happening,” Jasper said to the ghost as they turned a corner.

  “I couldn’t get close enough to see for certain, but I know Leng had three werewolves released close to the festivities of tonight.”

  Werewolves—devil take the man. Jasper pushed down yet harder on the motorcar’s gas pedal. “Where exactly are Ju and your wife?”

  “I believe they are near the dancing school, but the whole street is full of performers and bonfires. You’ll have to drive up the next street over to get there.”

  “You believe? You aren’t sure of where they are?” If it had been Jasper’s loved ones in danger, he would have done anything to ascertain where they were before going to get help. And that was if he ever left their sides at all.

  Unfortunately, standing beside his wife and daughter was not an option for Mr. Zhi.

  Jasper turned another corner, taking them onto a street that ran parallel to the one the dance school was on. “You need to be honest with me. Why can’t you get close to them?”

  Jasper was driving too fast to take his eyes off the road, so he wasn’t sure what Mr. Zhi’s face looked like, but his tone was low and forceful.

  “Leng will pay for going after my family. If it weren’t for that blasted curse I’d have buried a knife in his heart decades ago.”

  Screams echoed over the rooftops. They were drawing near. A couple darted out across the road, running, without watching where they were going. Jasper slammed on the brakes and swerved violently to the side. The couple, clutching each other’s hands, pulled up short just as Jasper zipped around them. Jasper only got the briefest of glimpses, but enough to know they wore traditional Chinese garb and had light toned faces and black hair.

  They careened on, passing a few more intersections. Jasper could see the blazing fires and frantic forms as people panicked one street over.

  Mr. Zhi grunted as his jaw locked tight.

  “We’re getting close, aren’t we?” Jasper asked.

  “Yes. Since it is the middle of Hungry Ghost month, I can draw closer to my family tonight than any other time of the year, despite Leng’s hex. But it is still painful.”

  “Then you’re my compass,” Jasper said, pulling down a small road which would take them over to the same street the dancing school was on. “You just tell me which way takes us closer to them and which way takes us farther away.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The rattling at the front door stopped and, in the stillness, Ju’s breath sounded as though it were the applause of a large audience.

  A howl, deep and ear-splitting, filled the room. Holy gears above—it wasn’t a someone Leng had sent to kill her, but a wild animal. Ju bolted toward the kitchen half of the one room home. The heart-stopping sound of wood beginning to crack came from behind her. Ju jumped lithely onto the countertop and scampered up the shelves that their few plates, pans, and pots.

  Several items tumbled to the floor, some banging, some shattering. The front door groaned, then splintered with a loud crack. Ju, lying on her side and sandwiched between the top shelf and the ceiling, pushed herself close to the wall.

  An enormous wolf leapt into the room, his lips pulled back in a snarl. He growled, swinging his head back and forth.

  Moving as silently as she could possibly manage, Ju pulled up her skirt and reached for the gun Jasper had given her. He’d fashioned a strap that held the gun tight enough against her thigh so she could dance with it on and, yet, still pull it out easily.

  She released the gun from its holster and held it close to her chest, not aiming, but ready if the need arose.

  The werewolf’s nose dropped to the floor and he began sniffing. There wasn’t much light in the house. Ju sent up a silent, desperate plea—to her father and any other ancestor who might be within hearing range—that the wolf wouldn’t see her.

  He pushed past the trunk and over to Ju’s bed roll in the distant corner. Not seeming to find what he was looking for there, he pushed back toward the table and the chairs, paying particular attention to the chair that held Ju’s soiled dress.

  With a snap, the werewolf grabbed the dress in its snout and ripped it off the chair. Growling, the wolf shook the dress, dragging its claws and teeth through the beautiful pink and white fabric.

  Why had the werewolf gone for her dress? Ju watched, careful to not make a noise, as the precious clothing was shredded. The path the wolf had taken—from the door to the chest to her cot and finally to the chair—it was exactly the path Ju had walked since entering the house. He was stalking her. But why?

  The werewolf searched through the unrecognizable strips of fabric that had been Ju’s dress, sniffing loudly once more. The man who’d bumped into her during the festival—Ju had thought he’d been drunk. But suppose it wasn’t an accident? Suppose he’d dumped whatever was in the cup all over her on purpose?

  Did she still smell of the liquid? Ju reached underneath the collar of her dress and rubbed a hand against her collarbone, then brought the hand up to her nose. It was faint, but it was there. Gads, if the wolf kept looking it would only be a matter of time.

  The wolf’s nose came up, his yellow eyes landing squarely on her.

  Time was up. Ju aimed the gun. She’d felt as though she was getting better, but none of the hours practicing with Jasper was going to matter if she missed now. Ju let off a single bullet. It ripped through the air, howling back at the werewolf, then planted itself in the animal.

  He let out a pained yip and fell backward. She’d hit him. She’d actually hit the werewolf.

  Snarling, the werewolf righted himself and steadily drew close to Ju once more. He was favoring his left front leg; she must have hit him there. Though she’d clearly hurt him, Ju doubted it was enough to stop him from ripping her throat out.

  Ju brought the gun up again. Before she could shoot, the werewolf bolted forward. Leaping up onto the countertop, he lifted his head high and tried to scale the shelves. Ju pulled the trigger. Then again.

  The werewolf’s ears flattened against his head, but neither bullet struck him. Ju scooted further down the shelf, knocking a few stoneware bowls down toward the floor, where they smashed into dozens of shards. The werewolf got his head close to Ju’s feet and snapped. His mouth shut each time loud enough to make Ju shudder.

  She was running out of shelf. The werewolf teetered with his back legs on the counter and his snout just high enough to reach her. Ju waited for him to snap his mouth shut once more. Then she kicked out, summoning all the strength she had in her right leg, and walloped him underneath his chin.

  The werewolf toppled backward, flailing as he fell to the floor, landing atop the shattered bowls. With a hiss, he rolled to his feet. Blood trickled down his side where he’d landed, coating several shards of pottery that still stuck out of his fur.

  Ju rested her weight on her shoulder and aimed the gun with both hands. The werewolf snarled and jumped toward her. She shot, but the bullet saile
d over his head. The werewolf got both its feet onto the countertop, too far underneath her for Ju to aim properly.

  She drew an arm back underneath her and peered over the edge. The werewolf looked up at her with an intense gaze, it’s yellow eyes almost glowing in the dark room.

  With a bark, the werewolf leapt upward, mouth open. Ju recoiled, bringing her right arm up, in front of her face in an instinctual urge to protect herself. The werewolf’s mouth closed around her wrist, but Ju’s thick bracelet stopped the incisors from breaking the skin.

  The bracelet bent into an oval under the weight of the werewolf’s bite. Ju pulled her hand out. The tips of the wolf’s teeth tore at her hand, but she still managed to break free. The bracelet shattered in the werewolf’s mouth and his jaw snapped shut.

  The werewolf howled with pain as shards of silver bracelet pierced the inside of his mouth. Ju curled herself up into a tight somersault-ball and kicked the wolf in the throat. The werewolf tumbled to the ground. Righting himself, he sneered up at her. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and down his jaw. He crouched, ready to pounce.

  Then he twitched. He stumbled. He angrily shook his head back and forth. The wolf let out a horrid, pain filled howl—so different than the one he’d let out when he’d first found her home. Ju, unable to sit up fully, leaned out over the shelf a bit further, watching closely.

  The werewolf collapsed onto the floor and writhed. What was happening? The sun was nowhere near rising and she’d only managed to shoot him in the shoulder.

  The werewolf pawed at his mouth. His violent convulsing subsided and he lay still, a heap of fur on her floor. He let out another howl, but this one was so soft even Ju could hardly hear it. Then he stopped moving completely.

  Ju breathed, but didn’t dare move. How tricky were werewolves? Were they smart enough to trick prey into thinking they were dead?

  The single gas lantern in the house was turned low, but it was enough light for Ju to be certain the werewolf wasn’t breathing. After several minutes the wolf still had not drawn breath. Ju didn’t dare come down, not just yet. Her whole frame was shaking. Why had the wolf suddenly died like that? What had happened?

  Minutes stretched on and Ju felt herself calming down. No longer shaking, she slowly made her way down off the shelves. Crouched atop the counter, she watched the wolf for a few minutes more. Still, he did not move.

  Ju lowered one leg, then the other onto the floor. She accidentally kicked the kettle, sending it skittering. Ju froze. But the wolf was as still as ever. Ju carefully picked her way past the broken dishes on the floor. A small shard of the bracelet her father had bought for her jutted out of the wolf’s mouth.

  Ju breathed out in relief. She’d heard that it didn’t take much silver to kill a werewolf. Ju looked up at the wolf and then past him to her shredded dress. She stood and marched past the wolf to her dress. Picking up a shredded strand of fabric, she pressed it under her nose.

  The smell of baijiu was still strong. But, was it baijiu? Most men drank the traditional Chinese liquor during Hungry Ghost Festival, but with no father or brothers in the home, she hadn’t had the chance to smell it more than once or twice in her life. Ju sniffed the torn fabric again. It smelled similar to baijiu, but she couldn’t tell for sure if it was the real stuff or something else.

  Ju looked over her shoulder at the still form of the werewolf. One thing had been clear; he was seeking out that particular smell. Whoever the man was who had dumped the liquid on her must have been working for Ambassador Leng. A werewolf showing up while she was home alone, searching out the one pungent smell she was covered in, was simply too great a coincidence for it to be anything else.

  Oh, gracious. Mama. Ju stood, her grip tightening on the gun. She had to find Mama and make sure she was safe and whole as well. Ju hurried out into the night, leaving the werewolf strewn across her kitchen floor, and ran as fast as she could back toward the festivities.

  It wasn’t long before Ju could hear the faint, chilling cries of people screaming. Ju leaned into the night air and ran faster.

  The street was absolute pandemonium. More than one of the bonfires had spread past its original ring and was threatening nearby shops. People cried and screamed and ran in every direction. But how to find Mama?

  If this was Leng—and Ju was confident it was—then he’d also found a way to make Mama a clear target. He wasn’t a man to leave her getting hurt to chance.

  Ju scrambled between panicked festivity goers, calling out for Mama. Every face Ju passed she checked, every form she looked over to see if it was her mama.

  Ju turned in a circle.

  This wasn’t working. Even running toward whatever everyone else seemed to be running away from, there was just no way, in all the crazed screaming and running, that Ju could hope to find one person.

  There had to be a better, smarter way to do this. She didn’t have time to search in each corner and under every broad hat. She needed a way to see more of the street in less time.

  Ju hurried over to the closest shop. The store’s name, carved into a plank of wood, swayed with the commotion below it. Ju ran toward a pillar supporting the shop’s awning, kicked off it, and leapt for the sign.

  Her hand grabbed hold along the top of the board. The chains holding the sign in place groaned, but held. Swinging to the side, Ju got one leg up and over the top of the sign, but the board was too close to the ceiling for Ju to pull herself fully on top. It was an awkward way to dangle, but her powerful legs and arms held her securely. Ju looked out over the mayhem.

  The fires, which had seemed warm and cheerful before, now were breaking free and spreading a dangerous heat and fear. Women struggled to run in their flat-skirted formal dresses. Where was Mama? Were Dapo and Shuang safe?

  Ju spotted Wei shu. Her dear dance teacher was waving a long blazing stick toward the hunched form of a werewolf. Oh gears above, Leng had sent more than one werewolf. Wei shu moved to the side, her torch ever stretched out in front of her. Behind Wei shu was Mama. She was crouched slightly and holding her arm to her side tightly, but she was standing and looked very much alive.

  She wouldn’t be for long, though, if Ju couldn’t save her.

  The horn of a motorcar blared, drawing Ju’s attention to farther down the street. The motorcar’s front glass pane was short and there was no top to the vehicle, leaving the driver in plain view.

  Ju knew that face—that dark skin and determined brow. There was someone sitting beside him, too. Someone who seemed to emanate a strange blue light. Jasper didn’t slow as he neared Mama and Wei shu but barreled directly into the werewolf.

  Ju heard the impact, even as far away as she was and with screaming all around her. The werewolf bounced off the motorcar and, hitting the road, slid several yards away.

  “Get in! Get in!” Jasper’s voice called to Mama and Wei shu.

  Only, now it was no one but Jasper in the car. Where had his companion gone? Ju unhooked her leg from over the sign. She would have to ask him about that later. Or perhaps the other rider had never been there at all—perhaps her frantic brainbox, desperate for someone to help Mama, had only imagined another individual. Ju let herself drop to the ground.

  Mama and Wei shu were both in the motorcar and she could hear it rumble as Jasper pressed on the peddle. The motorcar started her direction, no doubt intent on taking Mama as far away as possible. Running out into the street, Ju waved her hands frantically.

  She saw the relief in his face the moment Jasper saw her.

  He slowed and reached out a hand, his eyes asking if it would be enough. Ju spread her legs, preparing for the leap and nodded a confident “yes”. Jasper neared her, still moving as fast as a galloping horse.

  Ju grabbed his hand tightly, placed a foot against the side of the moving motorcar, and catapulted herself into the backseat, as smooth as if they’d practiced it dozens of times.

  Mama’s arms wrapped around her immediately. “Thank the ancestors you are
all right.”

  The speed of the motorcar picked up and the cry of the wind made it too hard to speak. Instead, Ju encircled her arms around her Mama, holding her close.

  Thank the ancestors, thank Jasper, thank Wei shu for keeping Mama safe. As they drove, Ju sent up many prayers, gratitude filling them all.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jasper paced back and forth behind the couch Tressa sat upon. Each time his booted foot struck the floor he heard the same words over and over in his mind. I should have been there.

  I should have been there.

  I should have been there.

  Occasionally they were punctuated with the additional thought, Leng will pay.

  “Gads, Jasper,” Tressa muttered under her breath. “Will you sit down already? Your stomping about like an elephant is giving me a headache.”

  “I’ll sit down once we’ve figured out how to stop Leng.” After last night’s thwarted attack, Jasper was ignoring everything else until they figured out a way to end Leng and his threats.

  Jasper ran a hand down his face as he paced, once again seeing Ju emerge from the panicked crowd, standing tall and calm. The relief that came over him when he’d seen her whole and well was the strongest emotion he’d ever before felt.

  “Where are they?” Jasper spat as he spun on his heel. Several dreadlocks, which had fallen free of the leather strap, flew out and then smacked against his cheeks at the sudden turn.

  “Don’t look at me,” Tressa shrugged. “I don’t know the first thing about how long it takes a new mother to ready herself for company.”

  Jasper would never forget the way it felt to hold Ju close. After driving Ju, Mrs. Zhi, and Wei shu to his townhouse, he’d meant to hug Ju only to reassure her that all was right. But the minute she was close, he held on, holding her tightly against him, wishing he could somehow wrap her up and place her inside a secure box where she was guaranteed to never be hurt again.