by Nazri Noor
“You’re not coming.”
“Am too.”
I sighed. Dense, stubborn, etcetera. “Prudence called me. Whatever that Salimah lady complained about with running into someone who looked like me? Prue says the same thing. Someone tried to break into her grandma’s shop tonight, over in Little China.”
Sterling guffawed. “And you’re just going to show up, alone? Just like that? What if it’s a trap? Or what if it really was that Thea psycho in disguise?”
“It’s – if it was Thea, then I’d have backup. And Prudence is still a friend. She wouldn’t set a trap for me.” I looked down at my hands, then back up at Sterling. “Right?”
He folded his arms slowly, his brow creasing as he did. “You going out there just because she called is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The blood rose to my cheeks. “Say what you want, but it’s not going to stop me. Get out of my way.”
To my surprise, Sterling stepped aside wordlessly. It made me stop in my tracks. I guess I was expecting a fight. He saw the look on my face, and shrugged.
“I’m not going to stop you.”
“You’re going to tell, aren’t you?” I stabbed a finger at his chest and regretted it almost immediately. Dead bodies were freezing cold, especially in the evening Valero chill, and vampires were no exception. It was like poking a slab of ice. “You’re gonna stay here and blab.”
Sterling chuckled and swatted my hand aside. “I’m not that petty, Graves. Not everyone gives that much of a shit about you.”
Something glimmered in my chest, bright and hopeful. “So – so you think I could be doing the right thing?”
He laughed. “It’s a terrible idea. Probably the worst you’ve ever had.” He brought his Zippo to his cigarette, and flicked. “I’ll come with.”
“You – I don’t – ”
He shoved me in the back. “Shut the fuck up and lead the way.”
I stopped, squinting at him. “Why are you being so nice to me? Why are you coming along?”
He shrugged. “I’m trying this new thing where I try to be a good teammate.” He grinned, fangs gleaming in the streetlight. “And if there’s a fight – well, I could always eat.”
Chapter 6
“There’s this great xiao long bao place just down that street.”
I eyed Sterling cautiously. I’d been there once for soup dumplings, with Thea, of all people. “You sure know a lot about food for a dead guy.”
“We’ve been through this. I don’t process calories.” He puffed on his cigarette, then stubbed it out on the sidewalk. “And you sure need a lot of bodyguarding for someone who’s supposed to be a mage.”
That stung more than it should have. “Hey. I didn’t ask you to come with me, so – ”
“Shh. Shut your stupid mouth, we’re here.”
Here was the outside of a Chinese apothecary, a nondescript little shop with wood-clad windows, one of which was shattered, the asphalt lined in fragments of glass. The store shone warmly from the inside, incandescence spilling onto the dew-damp sidewalk. Little brass chimes tinkled as Prudence pushed her way through the door.
“Look at this mess,” she said, lips tight with annoyance, though she must have known that I didn’t have anything to do with it. If I was responsible, would I really have come back to the scene of the crime? “My grandmother’s terrified.”
“I’m – sorry? I really don’t know what to say, except that I didn’t do this.”
Prudence’s eyes were still hard, but she spoke kindly. “No, I know. I believe. But did you have to bring this one with you?”
“Hey,” Sterling said, one finger raised. “You’d think I’d get better treatment now that you’re dating my buddy, but no. It’s prejudiced. You’re prejudiced.”
Prudence groaned. The door chime tinkled again, and this time Gil emerged. I honestly shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already there.
“He’s cool,” Gil said, patting Prudence on the shoulder. “Hardly ever shuts up, but Sterling’s cool.” He nodded at me, then at the glass on the ground. “Whoever’s dressing up as you did a number on Madam Chien’s shop.”
I peered through the store, trying to get a glimpse of Madam Chien, but nothing. I lifted my head at the lone security camera staring me in the face, then gave it my best grin.
“She’s my grandmother on my father’s side,” Prudence said. “I love her to death and I know she’s just really upset by this.”
“Let’s go talk to her, then.” Sterling swept past our huddle, already slinking his way into the apothecary. Prudence followed hotly, like she was worried he might do something to Madam Chien. Gil only gave me a shrug.
“Come on in,” he said. “I think everyone’s a little shaken. Madam Chien rushed here when she found out something was wrong, then she called Prue to come over. I happened to be, um, with her at the time, so.”
I smiled. “No need to explain. Glad to know you guys are getting along. No more beating each other up.”
He scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “Well, I mean, that depends on what you mean by beating – ”
I smiled so hard I must have sprained my neck. “No need to explain. Honestly. Please. Stop.”
“Gotcha.”
Madam Chien’s apothecary glowed like a lamp, lit with old light bulbs that pulsed like braziers, like little fires. It was the kind of place that permanently smelled like incense, the austere aura of an antique store combined with the comforting must and dust of an old bookshop.
It wasn’t the strangest assessment. The apothecary was way more than just your standard assortment of ginseng and wolf berries, filled as it was with unusual decor, things in jars, illustrations of the human body on yellowing sheets of paper wrapped in cellophane. Still, it was warm in a way, almost welcoming. I could imagine spending the night and not minding it much.
Behind the counter, wizened and wiry, her hair a snow-white cloud, sat Madam Chien. Her pursed lips showed the impression of someone who permanently disapproved of everything, starting with me. Her eyes narrowed as I approached the counter.
“Him,” she said. “He did it.”
“Grandma, I’m telling you, that’s not possible. Dustin’s our friend.” Prudence shook her head, waving me over. “I’m sorry, she’s just so frightened. She’s a wreck right now.”
“It’s okay,” I said, forcing a smile.
I studied Madam Chien. Frightened wasn’t quite the right word to describe her. Frankly, she looked pretty relaxed for someone whose place of business had just been broken into. She did look at least a little pissed off. She seemed just about ready to smack my head right off my shoulders.
“Come here, Dust,” Prudence said. “You should see this.”
Madam Chien folded her hands together as I stepped closer, her lips puckering even tighter. I couldn’t be sure if her tunic was what she wore day-to-day, or if it served as her sleepwear since she’d probably woken in response to her security system going off, but it gave her the appearance of a martial artist.
Peering out of one of her sleeves was a tattoo of what I thought was an arrowhead. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the head of a dragon. She scowled and slipped her hand over it when she caught me looking. I bowed my head in what I hoped passed for an apology.
“This is why she’s so suspicious. Look.”
Prudence tapped at the screen of a laptop that was quite a few generations out of date, but still recent enough to run the security camera’s software. It was a blur at first, the figure walking from the other side of the street, but as he came into focus, the breath caught in my throat.
The man – thing, whatever he was – looked to either side of him, then up at the security camera. I looked into my own face as it grimaced, then made a small grin.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
Sterling made a nervous chuckle. “That’s messed up. Look at that, Graves. That’s creepy as hell. Right, Graves? Oh crap, I’d b
e shitting myself.”
“Make him stop,” Prudence said.
In my peripheral vision I caught Gil elbowing Sterling in the stomach. I knew Sterling was just being himself – a douchebag – and trying to freak me out, but I was still too focused on the thing in front of the camera to engage.
Other-Dustin took off his jacket, wrapped his fist in it, then punched clear through the window. He disappeared off-camera, then less than a minute later, reappeared with something bundled under his arm, dashing off into the night.
“He’s paying for my window,” Madam Chien muttered.
“Grandma, I told you, it can’t be him. Dust wouldn’t need to break a window.”
The old woman harrumphed and folded her arms. Prudence groaned.
“Dust, would you please just show her?”
I blinked. What, just shadowstep, like a performing monkey? “Uh, I’m not sure about this.”
“It’s cool. She’s one of us.”
I blinked again. Huh. Somehow it never occurred to me that Madam Chien could have been a mage. Did magic run in the family? Was there something about arcane blood that I didn’t know? I filed them away as questions to ask Carver, or maybe Herald, later on.
I decided to go simple and quick. I picked a shadow near a medicine cabinet, one of those ornately carved ones with dozens of miniature drawers. Maintaining eye contact with Madam Chien, I sank into my own shadow on the ground, jaunted as quickly as I could through the Dark Room, then emerged just inches from the cabinet.
My hands spread to either side of me, I waggled my fingers, a silent, half-hearted ta-da. Showing her my magic trick only reminded me that there was someone out there wearing my own damn face, the difference being that I could shadowstep, and they couldn’t.
“I don’t see your point,” Madam Chien grumbled. “Your Uncle Stephen could teleport, until that time he was stupid and showed up in the middle of traffic.”
Aha! I fucking knew it happened. Teleportation mishaps weren’t just urban legends after all.
“The point is, grandma,” Prudence said, through gritted teeth. “The point is, he could have just teleported in. He didn’t need to break the glass.”
Madam Chien barked something back in Mandarin, which set Prudence off, and the two went at it. The guys and I stared off into the corners of the apothecary for some uncomfortable seconds, caught in the crossfire of a familial spat.
But all of that just raised another question. If it was Thea impersonating me, then surely she wouldn’t have resorted to something as crude as punching through a window. Well, shit.
“Fine. Fine. So it wasn’t him. That doesn’t help. I want my peach back.”
“You’ll get it back, Grandma. We just need to track whoever it was down.”
“Get one of your Eyes to do it. What good is the Lorica if it can’t even help us in this matter?”
I looked around the store. “Wait. That’s right. Where’s the Lorica? Or the cops, for that matter? You said something about a security system.”
“I wanted to handle this before reporting anything to the Lorica,” Prudence said. “I don’t want the authorities in on this. Neither does Grandma. Her system is more of a series of wards that she put up herself,” she continued, gesturing at a number of yellow paper talismans pasted around the apothecary. “The security camera is really the only nonmagical precaution we have in place.”
“We,” I said. “So this is a family business?”
“One hopes,” Madam Chien said, eyeing Prudence meaningfully. “My son and his wife are doctors, but this one here decided her place was with the Lorica, punching and kicking things for pleasure.”
“I don’t do it for fun, Grandma,” Prudence said icily.
“You should put those days of danger behind you, the way that I did. What’s so wrong about running the store, the way I do? There is great pride in our business. When will you learn, Mei Ling?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Mei Ling?”
Prudence blushed.
“Leung Mei Ling,” Gil offered. “It’s her Chinese name.”
It was kind of cute that he knew that about her. The two of them made an oddly sweet couple, honestly, if you didn’t think too far about the possibility of magical flaming werewolf babies in their future.
“You guys,” Sterling called out. “Come here.”
None of us had noticed that he’d sauntered off to examine the broken window. I stepped over, spotting the glinting glass shard in his hand. On its edge was the smallest trace of blood, easy enough to miss in the dark on the damp sidewalk.
Gil slapped himself on the forehead. “I should have noticed that.” He gave Prudence an apologetic glance. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice that.”
“Because it isn’t regular blood. Nothing in the conventional sense, at least. Hard to sniff out.” Sterling dragged the shard lightly across his tongue. I felt like I was the only one cringing at the sight of him doing it. He smacked his lips a couple of times. “Ugh. It’s bland. Lifeless.” He nodded at me. “Almost reminds me of how you taste, Graves. Almost.”
Every head in the apothecary turned slowly in my direction. Prudence folded her arms, a cheeky grin blooming on her face, the kind that asked: “Is there something you aren’t telling us?”
“Look, he stole it from me when I was injured, okay?” I threw my hands up. “It’s not like I let him chew on my neck or anything. I’m not a cow.”
Madam Chien brushed me aside with a surprisingly powerful stroke of her arm as she went to examine the bloodied shard. “I don’t judge,” she said, an absent grin in the corners of her lips. “It’s a very modern arrangement,” she continued, waggling her eyebrows at Sterling, then at me.
Sterling nodded. “I know, right? So progressive.”
“Please stop,” I said. “There’s nothing going on between – ”
Madam Chien waved a hand. “So you can find my peach?”
Sterling looked to Prudence for an answer.
“A jade peach,” Prudence said. “It’s an heirloom artifact, passed down from our ancestors. Its enchantment is very specific – most mages won’t even find a use for it. But it belongs to our family.”
“And it passes to Mei Ling next,” Madam Chien said. “If only she would marry.”
“Grandma!”
Madam Chien’s features hardened, and I braced myself for another angry Mandarin tirade, but it didn’t come. “I don’t care if you marry this wolf boy here. Times are changed. Did I ask you to find a Chinese boy? No. But I want to see you married before I die,” she said, a patently false tremble in her voice. “And wolf boy will do. He will give you tall, strong babies.” She sniffed. “Latin American-Chinese babies. Very modern.”
“So progressive,” Sterling cooed.
“We should track down the culprit,” Gil said, his ears flaming red, his smile so fake and tight he could have ground his teeth down to powder.
“No. No.” Madam Chien shook her finger for emphasis. “You stay here with me, with Prudence. You help me clean up, close shop. Blood boy and his boyfriend can track down the peach.”
“I swear nothing’s happening – ”
“Come on, sweetheart,” Sterling trilled, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “Let’s go kill your doppelganger.”
Chapter 7
Sterling held the bloodied glass shard in front of him like a totem. It glinted in the streetlight as we moved, a crimson diamond in the palm of his hand. Every so often he would hold it up to his face, sniffing quietly, or flicking his tongue out to sample the blood. Then he’d point down a street or an alleyway, following the shard like it was a dowsing rod.
I was pretty sure he had no idea what the fuck he was doing. Either that, or there was a vampire bloodhound quality to him that I’d never known about. I left the possibility open. There was still so much that I needed to learn about the arcane and the supernatural, after all.
He wasn’t afraid of silver, for example, which was why he wore so muc
h damn jewelry, like the wannabe rockstar that he was. He was a fan of garlic, especially when Mama Rosa made up a batch of beef salpicao, which was essentially beef drowned in butter, Worcester sauce, and garlic.
Sunlight was devastatingly dangerous for him, though, something I’d seen him suffer twice. That second time totally didn’t involve a harebrained gambit that also resulted in the destruction of an artifact belonging to the Japanese sun goddess Amaterasu. Based on our playful and often wildly offensive banter, I knew that both fire and a stake in the heart could kill him, too.
Sterling held the shard up again, looking through it like a lens, or maybe he was studying the blood, gleaning whatever there was to glean from the bare traces of it that remained.
“This way,” he said. And like a moron I followed along without a word.
Despite never hearing about his blood-sensing skills, I knew that Sterling was a seasoned hunter. He was a beast of prey, at heart, something which fundamentally allowed him and Gil to get along in spite of their differences in attitude. It was weird knowing that the gentlest member of the Boneyard, at least before Asher came along, was our resident werewolf.
But again, what linked the two of them was the fact that they were both truly, innately killers, apex predators at the top of their respective food chains. In a way I was almost relieved that Gil hadn’t come along, because when we found Other-Dustin, between the three of us, there was a good chance he was going to end up dead. And I had questions.
If it truly was Thea, then we would have a fight on our hands. But again it was so unlikely. Smashing shit up just wasn’t her style. If this impostor was someone – or, let’s be realistic here, something else – then Sterling would want to play his wicked games.
It was bizarre how territorial he could get about the Boneyard and its constituents, but I was getting the impression that vampires were clannish like that. Even Carver said so. It was strange to think of Sterling as less of a monster knowing that part of him valued his tribe so much, how absolutely fucking feral he got each time we encountered Bastion, knowing he was such a threat. And if tonight meant that we would be in danger –