Tao of Love 3: Kiss of the Twin Werewolves

by Sedonia Guillone

  Yelin had known all along this moment would come and had intended to feign apologies and regrets at Ivan Schenko’s death. But seeing Schenko’s double caused every moment of pain Yelin had ever experienced over Lilya’s death to resurge, along with his anger and desire for revenge. “Schenko killed my sister. He deserved what he got.”

  Boris Schenko lunged at him, his huge hands shot out to grab Yelin’s throat. Yelin’s guards, loyal to Yelin now by weyre law, not to Boris’s dead twin, grabbed Schenko, one on each side. The scene so resembled the one when Yelin had been in Boris Schenko’s position that Yelin chuckled, watching the same goons who’d once obeyed Ivan Schenko now obey the beta who’d had him killed and taken over his pack.

  “Let me go, you fuckers!” Boris’s growling voice rose above the club music pounding in the background outside the office. “You answer to me now. Ivan was my brother.”

  Yelin chuckled again and lit a cigarette. Weyres were like genies let out of a bottle. The one who’d released the genie was master, regardless of other circumstances, just as the pack followers were loyal to their alpha by virtue of his position, regardless of how the other pack members felt about him personally. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Schenko. You’ll have to kill me in order to gain their loyalty and obedience. Every bodark worth his fangs knows that.” Yelin tapped the ashes into the dish on his desk and gloated at the snarling man. “Let him go.”

  His goons released Ivan’s brother, who straightened his jacket and T-shirt with angry tugs.

  Boris pointed at him. “You waited until I was in prison, didn’t you? You knew I couldn’t protect my brother.”

  The bastard could believe that if he wished. Yelin had just waited until his astrological chart had showed him the Chinese bodark. “Whatever. He’s gone now and justice has been done for my sister.” No justice would soothe Yelin’s grief over his beautiful sister. She’d committed suicide over that bastard Ivan.

  A gleam came into Boris’s eye. “Lilya, wasn’t it?” He chuckled, a smug sound that set Yelin’s teeth on edge. “Da. I remember her. Ivan shared her with me once or twice. She was nothing special. An ordinary lay. No wonder he got rid of her.”

  Anger burned in Yelin’s gut and he let out a string of curses. “Get him out of here.” He puffed on his cigarette while Yuri and Mikhail grabbed Boris again and dragged him, kicking and screaming threats and curses. The struggling bodark’s voice finally faded into the noise of the dance club around him.

  Yelin took one last drag on his cigarette and smashed the butt into the dish. “Fuck,” he muttered. Truthfully, he hadn’t given one thought to Ivan Schenko’s brother at the time he’d planned his revenge. What had it mattered? Lilya’s death had consumed him and he hadn’t had a moment’s peace until the Chinese bodark had fought Schenko. The Chinese one had been quite the warrior, maneuvering the fight so that Schenko impaled himself on the shards of a broken plate glass window. There was no fiercer opponent than a bodark defending his mate and the Chinaman had responded beautifully to the threat on his woman.

  Yelin shook his head. He knew Boris Schenko wouldn’t rest until he’d avenged his brother’s death and taken back the alpha position. The Moscow pack was so Mafioso it was nauseating. Even so, Yelin, too, loved power and was not willing to give it up so easily. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as physically strong as Schenko. If Yelin was going to survive the inevitable attempt on his life from Boris Schenko, he needed someone to fight for him again. Someone strong. Someone with a hunger to kill. Someone whose woman is being threatened....

  A threat. To a woman. Ahh!

  Of course!

  The scattered pieces of a plan started to fall into place. Convince Boris Schenko to kill the bodark who killed Ivan. Convince the Chinese bodark that the brother of Ivan Schenko, his felled opponent, now was claiming his mate. Result: fight. Chinese bodark kills Russian bodark. Yelin stays alpha. No more Schenkos to deal with. Ever.

  Brilliant.

  Yelin unlocked his desk drawer and pulled out his charts. He spread the painted cloth over the desk surface and studied the colored squares and writings. Hmm. It appeared that the bodark he sought was no longer in Boston, but back in China, back in the area which he’d first left to go and claim the blonde Chinese girl as his mate. Damn. More traveling, but it was unavoidable.

  Yuri and Mikhail came back into the office. “He’s gone now,” Yuri informed him, taking his post by the door.

  “Go get him again and bring back here.”

  “What?”

  Yelin held up a hand. “I have an idea. But you must bring him back here first.”

  Yuri nodded. “I’ll go. Let Mikhail stay here in case anyone else unwanted shows up.”

  Yelin grinned and reached for his pack of cigarettes. “Excellent. And please tell Mr. Schenko that if he comes back, it will be very worth his while.”

  * * * * *

  A rickety bus brought Meg, Jie and Shao to Xiahe from the airport.

  Meg watched the main street of the town pass by the dirty bus windows. It looked very much like any street in Chinatown with storefronts with Chinese lettering and the curved Oriental roofing above.

  The bus stopped at the curb and they descended. The dry air was cooler here than it had been in Beijing and Meg could see the tall dusty hills with patches of green scrub rising in the distance behind the town.

  Jie carried their suitcase. “Come, this way. My godfather lives on the outskirts of town, facing the prairie.”

  Meg followed him with Shao close at her side. He was never more than a couple of feet from her wherever they went. Whether it was the bit of sightseeing they’d done in Beijing before traveling up to Xiahe, eating in a restaurant or bathing, Shao never let Meg leave his sight.

  After five minutes of walking, the town gave way to stone walls and tiny alleyways. Cooking smells of oil and chilies wafted in the air, mingled with the sounds of children playing and the music from radios. Laundry flapped in the breeze on lines behind small apartments.

  Jie led them a bit further and the housing thinned, replaced by small huts of brick and white stucco with red tile roofs scattered over a field, a dirt road connecting them. The same scrubby hills rose behind them, made the area feel enclosed in spite of its vastness. In the distance, further down the road, Meg saw the prairie with its tall grasses.

  Shao looked at it too and Meg sensed his anticipation. She remembered that he’d been here with Master Li before making his way down to Beijing on foot. No small accomplishment.

  She remembered too that Jie had run through these fields, as a little boy and then, later, as a wolf. Her heart squeezed as she tried to imagine him at eight or nine years old, running and playing.

  Alongside Shao, she followed Jie up the walkway to one small hut. Jie knocked on the door and then softly pushed it open.

  “Li Sifu?” Jie stepped over the threshold. His heartbeat sped up. Since he was a little boy, he’d always worried that one day he’d walk in and his godfather wouldn’t be there. That fear had never left him.

  Master Li stepped around the corner, his old face wreathed in a smile. “Jie, welcome home.” Jie’s godfather came forward and as he drew closer, Jie could see that the old man’s eyes were misted over.

  Relief washed through Jie and he smiled. His godfather was the best friend he’d ever had.

  Master Li reached up and cupped Jie’s cheeks, bowing to him. Jie returned the gesture and Li touched his forehead to Jie’s. His godfather had always used the Tibetan greeting, preferring warmth of feeling to the conventional Confucian restraint.

  “Hello, Li Sifu,” Jie breathed, unable to keep out the emotion that suffused his voice. “I’ve missed you.”

  Master Li touched the fingertips of both hands to Jie’s cheeks and Jie felt his own eyes mist over. After several moments, he straightened and beckoned to Meg. She came to his side and he drew her toward his godfather. Shao stood close behind her. “Godfather, this is Meg, Chen’s granddaughter.” />
  Li’s dark eyes widened and he fixed her with a faraway yet perceptive gaze. He bowed his head. “Lem Kin’s granddaughter. I’m honored.”

  Meg smiled shyly and Jie felt a surge of warmth for her. He hadn’t expected to feel so proud to present her to his godfather. “I’m so happy to meet you, Master Li. Lao ye spoke so often and so fondly of you.” Her green eyes misted over.

  Li smiled and bowed his head again to her. When he looked up, his gaze fell on Shao. The elderly man stared at him a moment then turned to Jie, his lips slightly parted in obvious surprise. “You found him.”

  Jie nodded. “Yes, Sifu.”

  Li took a step toward Shao and Meg moved aside. Shao gazed at Li and then dropped to his knees and touched his forehead to the ground at Li’s feet.

  Jie’s heart surged at the deep show of respect. Shao embodied Jie’s rawest, heartfelt emotions and drives. His love for his godfather had always been one of them.

  Li waited silently for Shao to sit up. Shao remained kneeling, head bowed.

  Li reached out and patted the top of Shao’s head. “It’s all right,” he murmured, resting his hand on Shao’s hair. Li looked at Jie. “Who is he?”

  “It’s rather difficult to explain, Sifu.”

  His godfather reached out and touched Jie’s arm. “Come, sit and have tea. You can tell me everything.”

  Jie nodded. “I’ll put away our bag first.”

  “Of course. Show Meg and...” Li looked uncertainly at Shao.

  “We call him Shao,” Jie said.

  Li nodded. Understanding shone in his eyes. “Shao. Show them your room and then come in.”

  Jie smiled. He felt again how much he’d missed his godfather. He led Meg and Shao to his small bedroom. “Meg, I grew up here, in this room, when I wasn’t in Beijing.”

  Meg stepped over the threshold, her eyes still misted over. Somehow, having her see the room in which he’d spent so much time studying and dreaming and...mourning, made him feel even closer to her.

  Shao stood in the doorway, looking hesitant.

  Jie turned to him. Shao had been his and Meg’s constant companion for days. Shao never spoke, yet Jie had begun to understand his grunts and growls and the expressions in his eyes. Jie couldn’t help feeling...fond...of Shao. Strange. Somehow, it was easier to like that part of himself seeing Shao as a person...a man...in his own right. Shao possessed qualities Jie had always admired in others...like loyalty and openness...but hadn’t ever believed he, himself, had.

  He even thought that if he and Shao became one body again, he’d actually miss him. No doubt Meg would. Having two men at once must be unbelievably erotic for her. He’d once been with two women at the same time before he met Su Lin and the experience had been one he’d never forgotten.

  Jie gestured to him. “Come in,” he said in a gentle voice.

  Shao stepped into the room and stood just inside, watching Meg. She had wandered over to Jie’s desk and was studying the books and little objects he kept on it, not the least of which was an elaborately carved wooden Buddha.

  Jie felt a swell of warmth in his heart, watching Meg examine his one prized earthly possession. The monks in Labrang monastery had given him the little statue when he was ten. They’d been very kind to him, the monks, letting him run around the prayer wheels and spin them in play. They never scolded him for it or forbade him to play hide and seek on the monastery grounds. Many of them had played with him, and one monk, Lobsang, had taught him how to kick a soccer ball. They’d made him feel cared for and important.

  No wonder he’d always fiercely opposed Su Lin’s views about the Tibetan people.

  Meg turned. “What a beautiful Buddha.” At the sound of her voice, Shao stepped toward her and caressed her hair.

  Jie smiled at her. There wasn’t an ounce of unkindness in her and his heart swelled with love. He crossed over to the desk and stood close to her as he told her about the monks.

  “That’s very sweet,” she said. “I hope you’ll show me the monastery while we’re here.”

  He put his arms around her and kissed her lips, aware of Shao’s presence nearby. Shao was still stroking the fall of her hair down the ponytail she’d put it into for traveling. With each caress Shao’s breathing grew heavier, the rasp of it filled the quiet room.

  Jie pulled reluctantly away from their kiss. Meg’s lips were so soft and tasted sweet. He’d been about to slide his hands down her back to her waist.

  There wasn’t time now to make love. He had to speak with his godfather and explain to him what had happened. Perhaps Li would have an insight that could further help them.

  Through the open door, Jie heard the bubble and hiss of the teakettle on the small stove burner. That, too, was a sound that had always comforted him, reminded him of his godfather’s presence. Now he realized that as much difficulty and pain as there had been in his life, there was also that much love that had been there as well. He just hadn’t always realized it.

  He did now.

  “Come, let’s speak with my godfather,” he said gently. It was hard to pull away from her, especially when her eyes took on that glaze of desire.

  She nodded and reached for Shao’s hand.

  Jie led them back into the small main room where there was a sitting area. Li had removed the teakettle and was pouring steaming water into a pot. He asked Jie now to explain the situation. Jie watched his godfather’s eyes darken with concern as Jie narrated what had happened in the prison. He explained the dynamics of his and Shao’s qi, describing how their mutual contact with Meg seemed to be restoring the balance of life force.

  Jie accepted a cup of fragrant tea from his godfather and watched the steam curl from the tiny cup. He bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Sifu,” he murmured. “I know now that I misused the tao. I altered my life force out of self-hatred, not as an instrument of acceptance and peace.”

  Li patted him gently on the head as if Jie were still a boy. “I had faith that you would come to the truth, Jie. Lao Tzu says in the tao that force is not the way at all. Deny the way of life and you are dead.”

  Jie nodded. He glanced at Meg. She was gazing at him over her cup. A gentle smile came to her lips.

  “It seems that you now follow the path that will heal you,” Li said.

  Jie looked at him, grateful that his godfather hadn’t scolded him for his misuse of the tao. Why Jie would have feared such a thing, he didn’t know. Li had never shown him anything but quiet patience, even in Jie’s worst days as a hoodlum.

  Li nodded. “Yes. Whatever you’re doing to restore the balance of yin and yang, just continue.”

  Jie felt his cheeks tingle and bowed his head. “Yes, Sifu,” he murmured. “We certainly will.”

  Chapter Seven

  “He’d better fucking be here, Yelin.” Boris Schenko mopped his thick neck with a bandanna.

  Yelin chuckled. So...both Schenko brothers hated being out of the urban setting, even for five minutes. “Patience. He’ll turn up.”

  People passed by on either side of them and cars passed down the main street. Strange music and food smells wafted through the dry hot air.

  “How do I know you’re not tricking me? You’re as slimy a zhopoliz as they come.”

  Yelin suppressed a growl. Schenko was not going to get away with calling the Moscow alpha an ass licker. But he didn’t have to know that. Yet.

  They wandered around the busy part of town for several hours, making repeated rounds, then sat in a café, watching the passersby. Yelin combed every male face for the bodark and sniffed the air for his scent. To no avail.

  Boris Schenko leaned over the table, his lip curled, his eyes glowed with obvious desire for Yelin’s blood. “I think you’re trying to cheat me.”

  A momentary prickle of fear skittered down Yelin’s spine. Schenko wasn’t quite as credulous as his brother had been. Boris Schenko had done time in a Russian prison and was ten times tougher than Ivan had been. Add that to the fact that Boris had loved
his brother and seethed with lust for revenge...

  Yelin lit a cigarette. He struggled to appear calm and to repress the doubts that now nagged at him. Yelin knew that even if Schenko couldn’t kill him as a weyre, the large bodark would have no hesitation to fuck him up in human form so that it would take a long while for him to heal.

  Yelin tapped out the ashes off his cigarette and took a long puff, taking care not to blow his smoke in Schenko’s face as he’d once done to Ivan. His hand trembled and he worked to keep his fingers still around his cigarette. Boris Schenko was not as easy to stay steps ahead of mentally as Ivan had been. Bloodthirsty ferocity went a long way toward making Boris a frightening opponent.

  Then an idea hit him. If the Chinese lang ren would not appear in the streets of his own accord, then he’d have to be flushed out. And what was the sure fire way to get him to come out? Howl.

  His confidence somewhat restored, Yelin leaned over the table and explained his plan.

  * * * * *

  Meg watched Jie across the dinner table. He looked deeply troubled and took small bites of his food in a way that indicated he ate only out of respect for his godfather. Of course, he was very serious most of the time, but she sensed that a new worry had begun to weigh on him.

  Master Li had set out a banquet of dumplings, fried tofu and noodles along with the tea. Shao had attacked the food with his customary relish and Meg, too, had eaten almost two platefuls after a day of traveling, but Jie had picked at the things she’d put on his plate, sipping his tea with that thoughtful expression he often got.

  After their tea, Jie suggested going out for a walk to see the town before sundown, but Meg was anxious to speak with him and hopefully, to allay his concern.

  In the privacy of Jie’s small room, she sat on the edge of the bed. Shao knelt on the floor near her, rested his cheek on her thigh. She smiled down at Shao and stroked his long hair, loving the sleekness of it beneath her fingertips. A moment passed and she turned her attention back to Jie. “Jie, what’s bothering you? I sense that something’s wrong. Something new.”