Tiger Eye

by Marjorie M. Liu

  Scales hissed, feathers whispered. Dela gasped, and for a moment even Hari forgot to breathe. It had been so long.

  The dragon’s coils writhed against the hard ground, claws piercing stone. Golden eyes spun like watered marbles in a fine, angular head, set atop a delicate neck. The dragon regarded Hari and Dela with a quiet grace, but when it set its gaze upon the Magi, sprawled in frozen disbelief, a rough hiss escaped its thin scaled lips. Golden light shimmered around the dragon’s body, and a moment later an elderly naked Chinese woman appeared.

  “Long Nü,” Dela breathed.

  The Magi’s stunned expression dissolved, his lips curling into a snarl. “We had a bargain!”

  Long Nü’s smile was infinitely cold. “I promised not to interfere with Hari. You said nothing about the human.”

  The dragon woman settled her golden gaze upon Hari.

  “I believe, brother, you have a man to kill.”

  Hari kissed Dela’s palm, and she watched him stand and face the Magi. The Magi, eyes narrowed, began chanting under his breath.

  Dela felt something whisper against her neck. It was Lise, kneeling, her eyes wide and dark with fear.

  “You should leave,” Dela said, but Lise shook her head.

  “If Hari is going to kill my father, I have to watch. I have to know he’s dead.”

  Long Nü appeared beside them. Lise jumped away, but the old woman caught the girl’s wrist.

  “I will not hurt you,” she said, then released her. Lise rubbed her wrist, but obeyed the unspoken command. Dela didn’t blame her. The merchant from the Dirt Market was gone; in her place, a creature from fairy tale—only, much more intimidating.

  “I would have come sooner.” Long Nü’s wizened fingers brushed against Dela’s ribs. “But I was detained. Helping you, I suppose.”

  “Helping? But—” Dela stopped, and gave the shape-shifter a hard look. “You went after Wen Zhang. His men, too. That’s what they meant, when they asked me to ‘call her off.’ It was you.”

  Long Nü shrugged. “Wen Zhang was upsetting a particular balance, interrupting a series of events too important to be frustrated by a collection of thugs. You can thank me later.”

  The Magi and Hari circled each other. Hari began a partial transformation, claws extending from his hands, fur rippling over his thickening arms.

  “I thought the Magi’s powers had lessened,” Dela said, as his hands began to glow.

  “He never lost his powers, but after he cursed Hari, his magic turned against him. For the past two thousand years, the use of his gift has caused him pain. How much, I do not know.” Long Nü leaned over Dela, her eyes briefly glowing. “There is only one outcome to this battle, Dela, and that is for both Hari and the Magi to die.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I have no time to explain. Only, their lives are linked. Each is the other’s weakness. They are not immortal to each other, Dela. If Hari kills the Magi, he will die, too.”

  Two thousand years fled past Hari’s gaze, but the only thing that made the beast howl was the memory of Dela’s face and body, battered almost beyond recognition. The Magi had laid his hands upon Hari’s mate—the woman he loved more than life.

  No. Dela was his life.

  “I have waited for this,” he said. “Since the day you killed my sister—from the moment I realized you were still alive.”

  The Magi’s laugh was bitter. “And I have thought of nothing but you for the past two thousand years. What a fine mess I wove.” His fingers spat fire, blazed with heat. Hari noted a fine tremor race up the Magi’s side. “I have had many years to grow accustomed to pain, Hari, and I have held myself down with it. But now—now is the time to remember some of what I lost.”

  The Magi’s hands exploded in a blaze of light and crackling heat, and Hari dodged twin gusts of flame that spewed out into the night. The shape-shifter recovered instantly, sweeping in low with his claws bared, raking at the Magi’s throat. The Magi managed to block the blow, glancing fire against Hari’s skin.

  Steel flashed in the Magi’s hand. A dagger, hidden in a sheath beneath his shirt. Hari smiled, flexing his hands, the beast splitting his skin.

  Finally. Blood.

  “What kind of crap is this?” Dela struggled to sit up, but only succeeded in blasting the breath from her lungs. She collapsed, Lise cushioning her head. Dela glared at Long Nü. “Does Hari know?”

  “No, and you cannot tell him. If you do, it might ruin everything.”

  “You can’t get much more ruined than dead!” Dela snapped.

  “He does not have to die.” Long Nü’s eyes blazed with unearthly light. “I would not have invested so much of myself if that was the only outcome.”

  Dela stared at her, some premonition tugging at her mind; the memory of a dream, a nightmare in a tub in China. Death, sliding in on a sigh. Hari’s anguished eyes.

  “Explain yourself,” she said.

  Long Nü skimmed her hands over Dela’s face; not touching, but close, close. Dela smelled sandalwood, stone.

  “A life for a life. That was the price of the spell, the motivation that cast it. Hari gave his life for his sister. There is no greater gift, but the Magi twisted the power of Hari’s sacrifice to create something dark, perverted. He still thinks darkness is the key to ending the spell.” Long Nü cast a significant glance at Lise.

  Not twenty feet away, Dela saw Hari lash out at the Magi, raking his claws down the man’s chest. The Magi screamed, steel and flame flashing in his hands. Hari leapt backward. His movements were a dance; he struck the Magi again, this time in the face. Blood spurted.

  “Enough of the story!” Dela cried, sensing imminent death. “How do we break the spell?”

  A hint of warmth touched Long Nü’s lips. “A good choice,” she breathed, soothing back Dela’s hair. “Your choice, Dela. The only thing that can break the spell, and the bond between Hari and the Magi, is another gift of love. Love to counteract the darkness.”

  “A life for a life,” Dela murmured, sinking down into her mind, feeling her world grow still.

  “Do you understand?” Long Nü pressed. “Do you truly understand the price, Dela? A life for a life. That is what you must pay.”

  Dela understood, and she nodded.

  The Magi was in pain, his eyes wide with fear, rage. Still, he pressed on. Still, he angled his knife at Hari, sweeping down—

  Hari laughed, sidestepping the rushed blow, knocking the Magi on his back with one well-timed kick to the back of his knees. Without the use of his greatest powers, the Magi was useless in a fight. The man slammed into the ground, gasping for air.

  Hari was on him in an instant, snapping first the wrist holding the knife, and then taking the weapon and slamming the blade, point first, through the Magi’s other hand—splitting flesh, cracking bone—pinning the man to the ground.

  The Magi howled, his back arching off the ground. Hari straddled him, running his claws across his throat—

  * * *

  “Do it,” Dela said, taking one last look at Hari, poised over the Magi.

  Long Nü placed her hands above Dela’s heart. The colors of sunset shimmered across Dela’s vision, and she thought—she thought—

  The Magi had no last words. There was a story in his black eyes, and Hari wondered—just for one moment—what if? What if the Magi had been a good man?

  Hari’s sister would have lived, her child born. He would have been spared two thousand years of slavery. So much pain, averted.

  But he would not have found Dela.

  “Thank you,” Hari whispered. “For that, anyway.”

  The Magi’s eyes widened, a question on his lips.

  Hari slashed his throat—

  —I love you, Hari. I love you—

  —and leaned away from the gushing blood, hearing breath slide through the Magi’s lips, his eyes blazing once, then dulling into emptiness.

  Feeling rather strange—almost, in an odd way, ber
eft—Hari staggered to his feet. Blood dripped from his claws.

  He stared at the Magi’s body until soft sounds of weeping tugged at his attention. Hari turned, and found the Magi’s daughter curled in on herself, tears running down her cheeks. At first he thought she was saddened by her father’s death, and then he thought her tears were for relief—but as he drew near he saw her gaze was for Dela, stretched still and silent upon the ground.

  “Delilah?” Hari called her name. She did not stir, and Long Nü looked at him, her eyes solemn as winter water.

  “Your curse is broken, Hari,” she said. “A life for life.”

  He stared at her, at first not understanding, but as he looked down at Dela’s pale face, her still chest, comprehension brought him to his knees. He crawled to Dela’s side, reaching for her face, pressing his ear to her chest.

  Silence.

  “No,” he breathed. “No, not now. Please, Delilah.”

  “It was her choice,” Long Nü said. “You were linked to the Magi by the spell. If she had not given herself up, you would have died the instant you killed the Magi.”

  “I would have preferred death!” Hari reached over Dela’s body to grab Long Nü around the neck. “You did this, didn’t you? You killed her!”

  “To save you! To break the cycle. There is a price for everything, Hari. Everything.”

  “And what price to bring her back?” He dragged Long Nü close. “What price would I pay?”

  “A piece of your heart,” she whispered. “A piece of your heart, in the shape of your skin.”

  “Take it, then,” he said, throwing out his arms. “Give it to her. She is all the heart I need.”

  “As you say,” Long Nü breathed, after a heart-stopping moment of silence. “Kiss her, Hari. Give Dela back the breath of life. Give her your skin.”

  Hari covered Dela’s mouth, kissing her with every ounce of passion and love he could muster, willing her to live, begging it with every fiber of his being. Tears ran down his face, bathing her cheeks, and he tugged her close into his arms, falling, losing himself to everything but her cool still lips. He breathed for her, wishing dreams into her head, beseeching her with desire, with his soul—because if she left him he would follow.

  Light filled him, golden, soft, flooding his vision with unearthly beauty. The shimmering vision passed from his body into Dela’s, sinking into her skin. She glowed, and Hari’s heart did not feel lessened—he felt so full he might burst, and the beast sidled against the light, wild and content.

  Dela’s lips moved. Hari choked back a sob and he clutched her tight against his chest, drinking in her sudden warmth, the breath escaping from her sweet mouth. He felt her hands creep into his hair, and he tasted tears.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “Oh, Delilah, why? I would have died for you.”

  “I wanted you to live,” she murmured, caressing his throat with her fingers. “I wanted you to live for me. And you did.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Help came from an unexpected source.

  As Artur and the others later explained, the Suburban quickly proved unfixable, while attempts to flag down cars were met with less than polite responses from passing motorists. The four men were preparing themselves for a long, directionless walk, when a battered minivan pulled up. The driver had a familiar face.

  “All you bastards are lucky I’m a curious fellow,” Koni said, sitting naked in the driver’s seat.

  Curious enough to change shape and follow everyone home from the Kosmo Klub, tracking their movements since that night. Sharp enough to see the Magi kidnap Dela, and tail him to his mountain home. Concerned enough to return and find her friends—and just crazy enough to steal a car when he flew over their stalled vehicle.

  Long Nü was the first to hear the car’s approach, and she warned the others with a sharp word. Scales rippled down her wrist, dancing color against flesh, shaping bone—and then in an instant, gone. Humanity restored. She glided into the shadows, haunting the rim of light coming from the house windows some distance away.

  Hari cradled Dela in his lap, his arms warm around her shoulders. He could not stop touching her, his lips pressed against her hair, her cheeks, her brow. Lise sat near them, hugging herself. The handcuffs were gone—Dela had just finished snapping them off.

  Dela closed her eyes, feeling a warm glow inside her heart. Like an etching in steel, the imprint of something unnamed and wild slowly turned circles in her chest.

  “I was dead,” she said to Hari. “What did you do?”

  Hari kissed her mouth. “I gave you my skin.”

  “I can feel it.” Sorrow mixed with joy. Hari seemed to see the conflict in Dela’s eyes. He held her face between tender hands.

  “The transformation is a superficial thing. What matters is the spirit within the skin. The tiger is still inside me, Delilah. Just as now, a part of it is inside you. That is the way it should be, and I am not sorry.”

  “Hari,” Dela said, hesitating. “I want you to know … the Magi … he never … he never touched me. Not like that.”

  Hari briefly closed his eyes, brushing her cheeks with his fingertips.

  A minivan drove up the long track; Artur was the first out, hitting the ground at a run. He said nothing when he saw Dela’s face, but his eyes were so very grave Dela held out her hands to touch him.

  “It’s not that bad,” she said. “Please, don’t look so worried.”

  It was the truth. Whatever Hari had done, it had healed her ribs and some of her worst contusions. Most of her body still hurt and she was too exhausted to walk, but she would live. She would live.

  Blue, Dean, and Eddie fussed worse than a pack of mother hens. Hari stood, cradling Dela in his arms. Beyond the men, Dela saw Lise tugging her blouse closed. She looked very uneasy and out of place, and she could not stop glancing at the dead Magi, still sprawled some distance away on the ground.

  “Lise,” Dela called. The girl moved close, ducking her head when the men focused their attention on her. A strange expression passed over Eddie’s face. He shrugged off his denim jacket.

  “Here,” he murmured, holding out the garment, careful not to touch her. Dela hid her smile as the girl took Eddie’s jacket, clutching the denim like it was a life vest.

  “Lise,” she said again. Hari turned slightly so she could better see the girl’s face. “Do you have anyone we should contact?”

  Lise tore her gaze away from Eddie’s face. “No. That man … he was all I had.”

  Hari’s chest rumbled, and Dela reached out to touch Lise’s cheek. The girl’s breath caught, and Dela could see fear and hope fill her dark eyes.

  “You’re not alone,” Dela said. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

  “Absolutely,” Eddie jumped in, blushing furiously when everyone looked at him. Dean bit his lip, fighting a grin.

  “Um,” he coughed, trying to school his face into something resembling seriousness, “what should we do about El Freako?” He gestured at the Magi.

  “I will take care of him,” Long Nü said, eliciting gasps as she solidified from the shadows. “I can hide his body in a place where no one will ever find him.”

  Like your stomach? Dela frowned. “What did the Magi mean when he said you had a bargain?”

  Long Nü’s smile was cold, tight-lipped. “After I sold you the box and the Magi failed to waylay you, he came back to my stand. The Magi knew I was a shape-shifter, and was afraid I would try to help Hari out of a sense of loyalty. I promised I would not.”

  “You’re a shape-shifter?” Dean asked, somewhat skeptically. Long Nü’s eyes flashed, and she raised a clawed hand. Scales erupted along her flesh.

  “Oh,” Dean breathed. “Yeah.”

  “Why did you sell me the box?” Dela asked. “And why were you at that market in the first place? When I tried to find you again, everyone said you were dead. Later, I discovered some woman with an altered ID had taken your place.”

&
nbsp; “Surely you will let me keep some mystery,” Long Nü chided, but she tapped her head. “I had a vision, many years ago, of the person to whom I should sell the box. I am nothing but patient. As for the rest …” This time her smile seemed genuine. “There are still some people left in the world who do not mind doing favors for dragons.”

  Hari narrowed his eyes. “I know your face.”

  “You know my grandfather’s face. Your friend, who came looking for you and found the Magi instead, possessed of an odd little box that smelled like a very familiar tiger. My grandfather, after wringing the tale from the Magi, attempted to kill the man—and found he could not. The Magi was immortal.

  “The Magi managed to escape with the box, and though my grandfather searched for him, he never found another trace of the man. Until, almost a thousand years later, the Magi came seeking my father. The Magi wanted our help. He was desperate.” Long Nü shook her head. “You did not know it, Hari, but the Magi spent the past two thousand years linked to you. Everything you suffered, he felt. He experienced the deaths of every man you killed. When you slept, he felt the nothingness of the void crowding upon him. Even his own powers turned against him, causing him pain with every use.”

  Dela glanced at Lise, wondering what the girl made of all this. She was listening carefully, her eyes wide, startled. Behind her, Dela noticed a familiar, very naked figure.

  What is Koni doing here? The shape-shifter seemed quite intent on looking anywhere but at Long Nü.

  “Where do I come into this?” Lise asked, tugging Eddie’s jacket close around her shoulders. “Why did he want Hari to have sex with me?”

  “He wanted Hari to have sex with you?” Eddie’s brow wrinkled.

  “His own daughter,” Dela supplied, inviting grimaces and some speculative glances at Lise. Long Nü looked deep into the girl’s eyes.

  “The Magi finally realized, correctly, that the only way to break the spell—and the connection—would be to exchange a life for the one he had already taken. For some reason, though, he believed the only way to do that would be to sacrifice someone who carried both his blood, and Hari’s.”