by Jade Lee
Beside her, Zhi-Gang frowned as he sniffed the air, and so she explained. He would not likely know the smell.
“Turkish cafe,” she said, her eyes sliding from Zhi-Gang to the men framing the doorway just inside the office. The pistol and the deer-horn knives were out, but not aimed. They were there as warning, and Anna’s back prickled with awareness as she and Zhi-Gang stepped into the room. Samuel sat at Halfy’s desk, his eyes half lidded as he sipped from a cup.
“Welcome, daughter.” He set his cup down and eyed Zhi-Gang. “Welcome, Mandarin.”
Zhi-Gang nodded briefly, his gaze canting to the thugs. “Are they truly necessary?”
“Yes.” Samuel flicked his gaze to Anna. “Do I not deserve a kiss from my daughter?”
Anna felt her face flush. “Of course,” she said, ducking around the desk. But as she moved, she wondered at her actions. This man was not her father. This man had used her affection for his own ends. This man…
Had given her exactly what she’d asked for, and a great deal more. She wanted him dead for what he’d done to her, for what he was doing to China. And yet, she still felt a tie between them. He was, after all, her last link to her real father.
All these thoughts spun through her mind as she bent over to place a kiss on his cheek. He lifted his face, and she smelled the familiar scents: tobacco, perfume, opium. He rarely used himself, but he was always prepared to offer. He even carried a needle for his favorite customers.
She eyed his clothing, guessing that the wooden box would be in his left jacket pocket. She straightened, knowing he watched her closely. Was there any affection, as she’d once believed? Or suspicion? What did he feel for her?
“So, this is your new husband,” he drawled. “Tell me how that came about.”
“Oh, yes, well,” Anna began breathlessly, slipping easily into the fairy tale. “I was running, you know, from the Enforcer…” The words flowed sweetly from her lips. In truth she had retold the story to herself a dozen times since that night she’d fabricated it for the governor’s widows. It had become magical for her, a talisman, this idea that she and Zhi-Gang were desperately in love and could never be parted.
“You made it alone all the way to the Grand Canal?” Samuel asked, clearly skeptical.
She stiffened. Of all the things to doubt, he chose that? “I can be quite resourceful when I need to.”
“That, I believe,” Samuel said.
Zhi-Gang stepped forward, his irritation a palpable force in the room. “Women’s tales are for the women’s room. Wife, you will stand by my side now.”
Anna blinked, startled by his tone. Gone was last night’s lover. Back indeed was the Enforcer. She moved immediately to obey, but was stopped by her father’s hand on her wrist. Samuel held her tight to his side, and no matter how hard she twisted her wrist, she could not escape.
“Father,” she admonished softly, “I am married now. My place is at his side.”
“He is a Chinaman,” Samuel retorted. “And perhaps I do not recognize any wedding not performed in a Christian manner.” He smiled up at her. “Stay here. Convince me of this marriage.”
Anna blinked, thrown. How many times had he looked at her in just that way, his heart in his eyes, love pouring off him in waves? She knew it must be a lie. He could not have true feelings for her and still push her into the dangerous life of a runner. And yet, his love felt real.
Or it would have, if she had not known Zhi-Gang’s attention, Zhi-Gang’s love. Samuel was a liar and a manipulator. So she smiled sweetly—stupidly—down at her adopted father, and her heart remained with Zhi-Gang.
“Acknowledged or not,” she said, “Zhi-Gang and I are—”
“He does not care,” Zhi-Gang interrupted. “He cares only about the truth of the business you bring.” He looked hard at Anna. “He thinks I have fooled you.”
“To what end?” Anna asked, lost.
“To the end that all runners are disposable,” answered Zhi-Gang. “I only needed you to meet with him. Now it is time for you to leave while I make arrangements with your father.”
Anna narrowed her eyes, trying to read Zhi-Gang’s expression. Was it true? Could he truly have used her just to meet with Samuel? Of course not. They had shared so much more. He intended to get her out of the way so he could kill Samuel without danger to her. She knew that. Her heart even warmed at the thought. But she could not be dismissed. Not yet. She had to see this through to the end.
Zhi-Gang continued, his voice as curt and cold as any of Samuel’s mercenaries. The Chinese were never this openly derisive. Politeness was practically a religion, and yet Zhi-Gang’s emotion seemed to darken the entire room.
“You want girls,” he said. “I want opium. As the new governor of Jiangsu, I can supply you with what you need. You must prove that you can get me opium.”
Samuel arched a bushy eyebrow. “You doubt that a white man can supply opium?”
“He doubts everything,” Anna said with a shrug, using the movement to try to dislodge her father’s grip. It didn’t work. His fingers were strong, and he kept her tight at his side. So she turned to Zhi-Gang, staying with the pretend game of negotiation. “He has it,” she said firmly.
Samuel spoke to Anna. “Does he have the girls? Young pretty ones?”
Anna wrinkled her nose. “It’s a poor province. But as long as the peasants keep having babies, they’ll keep selling the girls. That’s how it works in China.”
Samuel sneered, curling his lip as he took a sip of cafe. “Heathens.”
“And yet you profit from it,” Zhi-Gang growled from across the table.
Anna twisted to glare at him. What was he doing? He could not kill Samuel from across the desk, and he would never cross it without some show of congeniality.
“What else would these girls do?” Samuel sighed and shook his head. “How many starve to death or spread their legs as eighth concubine to some old man? At least this way they’re getting paid for their work.” Samuel pinned Zhi-Gang with a hard gaze. “And you get your opium.”
Zhi-Gang didn’t answer. He was, after all, pretending to be a buyer. But Anna could feel the anger that radiated out of him. Luckily, no change appeared on his face. In the end, he simply nodded, as if acknowledging Samuel’s point. Then he stared pointedly at where Samuel still gripped Anna’s arm.
“Release my wife,” he ordered. “She has no place here.”
“Oh, but she does,” Samuel drawled. “She is my best runner. Or she was until she started tasting the product.” He leaned back in his seat as he eyed her. “Is that why you married him? Because you knew I wouldn’t give you any more? Not after you left the real buyer high and dry—”
“He was dead, father,” Anna snapped. “Sliced open like a side of beef right before my eyes.”
“Who was the buyer?” Zhi-Gang asked, his voice casual.
“Governor Wan,” Anna answered softly. She remembered the night all too well, despite the opium haze. And sometimes when she looked at Zhi-Gang—moments like now, when his eyes were hard, his lips set in an angry grimace—she feared who he was and what he could do.
Zhi-Gang simply shrugged. “An idiot with even more idiotic wives.” He shook his head. “A man can be forgiven for marrying a stupid woman, but only if he keeps her out of public view, away from ears that report to the Enforcer.”
Samuel turned. “Is that what happened with Wan?”
Yes, realized Anna.
“I have no idea,” answered Zhi-Gang. “But if I knew he and his friends ate opium—lots of opium—then how hard could it be for the Enforcer to know?”
Samuel slowly reached for his teacup, his eyes narrowed. “And you would avoid this fate?”
Zhi-Gang released a sharp bark of laughter. “I have not married an idiot.”
The white man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?” he drawled. “She takes opium. Loves it. Craves it. Isn’t that right, Anna?”
Anna had been momentarily lost in her me
mories of Governor Wan’s death. She had been thinking of her husband and wondering when he would finally act, finally be done with this game and kill Samuel. But at her father’s words, she felt her face heat with shame. “You gave me my first taste!” she cried.
“How much did you eat?” her father replied. “How much even of what was meant for Wan ended up in your stomach?”
“None,” she whispered. “None at all.” It was the truth, but she could see by Samuel’s smirk that he didn’t believe her. She looked to Zhi-Gang. He believed her. She could see it in the gentling of his mouth, the twist of his lips, and most especially in the fathomless darkness of his eyes. He saw she had given up the drug, that she had continued to resist despite the cravings that plagued her. He believed in her, and in his eyes she found the strength to play her role.
“Maybe just a little,” she said with a cringe.
Samuel barked with laughter. “See!” he bellowed. “See what you have married.”
“I’m careful!” Anna cried. “I only celebrate with the customer. Just like you taught me!” She dropped her voice. “I’m not an addict,” she lied, knowing in her heart the magnitude of the lie. She was an opium addict, she would always crave the sweet heaven that it offered. But more than even that wonderful oblivion, she respected Zhi-Gang. His touch, his caress, his love—all were a hundred times more fulfilling.
She glanced at her lover, wanting him to see the truth in her eyes. She needed him to know that she wasn’t lying, that she wasn’t the fool her father suggested. But when she looked up, he wasn’t there; He had crossed to her side. He enfolded her in his arms and dropped his face to her hair. He simply held her; and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth, his acceptance, and his love.
In the background, she heard the guards shift in worry. But Samuel released her hand—probably to defend himself in case of a problem—and nothing happened except a husband hugging his wife. All the room settled into silence.
Anna lifted her gaze to meet Zhi-Gang’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, staying with the role she had adopted. “I don’t long for it like I did before—”
“I know,” he answered, and by the look in his eyes, she knew he did know—both the truth and the lie of what she said. “Now, go to the room while I finish with your father.”
She knew what he meant. He was on the near side of the desk now. He would kill Samuel when she was out of the way. So she nodded, acquiescing. It was time she allowed him to do his job. She bowed her head in acceptance, but before she left she turned one last time to her pretend father.
“All I wanted was a father who loved me. You turned me into an addict for your own ends.”
Samuel shook his head, his sneer all the uglier for the way it tilted his moustache. “Do not blame me, little girl. You’ve been running from the day I met you—from the orphanage, from Shanghai, from wherever you are to something else.” He looked at Zhi-Gang, his expression clearly indicating the marriage was just another of her way stops. “I just gave you a direction, that’s all.”
Shock hit Anna. At first it was a simple recoil in her gut even as her head began to shake, denying his words. But nothing she said or did could change the truth of his statement.
Her gaze leapt to Zhi-Gang, looking for strength and comfort. “It’s not true,” she said. “He created the situation. He manipulated…”
Zhi-Gang frowned, but not in the way of a man who believed her, who was outraged on her behalf. He was confused by her denial. “I have always known you are a runner,” he said.
It was the simple, bald truth.
Her breath shuddered in her chest. She was a runner. She had always run—from her nurse, from the orphanage, from Shanghai, and even from her entire life, every time she ate opium. Her hands clenched at her sides, and she shuddered from the stark reality.
“It doesn’t matter,” Zhi-Gang said softly. “Go upstairs. I will follow soon.”
She looked at him, and the truth hit her even harder. Her lover was offering her exactly what she most wanted: another escape. She would run while Zhi-Gang avenged her. Then she would run to England. She might as well light up a pipe.
“No,” she murmured, anger stiffening her spine. It was time she stopped running away. It was time she finished something.
Where she found such strength of character was beyond her. A scant few weeks ago, such thoughts would have sent her scurrying for her opium pipe. But now, looking at the breadth of Zhi-Gang’s shoulders, the dark slashes of his eyebrows, and the kind understanding in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t release her burden onto him. He was more than willing to take it, but she knew the darkness in his soul. She knew the pain he suffered for decisions he had made as a boy, and as the Emperor’s Enforcer. She knew, and she would not add to his burden. She would not be another soul for him to carry. It was time she took responsibility for her own life, her own decisions.
She straightened, squaring her shoulders though her heart beat in her throat. “You know, this business always made my head ache,” she lied. “The truth is, you will both end up at the same place no matter how much you dicker.” She stepped easily into the role of bargainer. She knew better than anyone the terms Samuel would accept.
“Three girls a month,” she suggested to Zhi-Gang. “Agreed?”
Zhi-Gang nodded. It was a curt dip of his chin, and in his eyes she read fear for her safety. He did not want her in the middle of the coming fight.
She smiled in reassurance at him. For the first time in her life, she was going to fight for herself rather than run. The thought was terrifying, but it was also heartening. She might die in the next few moments, but she would at least die after having been fully alive.
She turned to her adopted father. “Where do the girls go? Which brothels?”
“He can bring them—”
“No,” she interrupted. “Which brothels, Father? Write down the names. I will ensure that the girls get where they need to be.”
Her father narrowed his eyes at her. “Since when do you want to run girls?”
Anna let her gaze drop to the floor. “I have come to accept the world as it is. And I wish to please my new husband.”
Samuel released a sharp bark of laughter. “You mean you are not so high and mighty about running girls when your opium supply is at stake.”
She looked up with pretend insult. “I will take better care of them than Halfy! I will see that their life is tolerable, that all profit from their sacrifice.” She could see that he didn’t completely believe her, so she pushed on as quickly as possible.
“Halfy’s gone, Father. We can make this a partnership, and you keep your profits. Who else knows your ways, who can run the brothels? Who else do you trust to oversee them?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And I won’t sample this merchandise.”
Her father frowned. Zhi-Gang did, too. He didn’t understand what she intended. But that didn’t matter; he would understand as soon as she handed him the list of all her father’s brothels. He would then know the names of all the hellholes that tortured girls, drugging them into prostitution. And he—the Enforcer—could decide what to do so that no one else suffered like his sister had.
Meanwhile, Samuel was obviously thinking hard. “I thought you were a married woman now. That you had no interest—”
She sighed loudly. “Enough, father. My husband understands that I have no wish to spend all my time in backwater Jiangsu. And we both want the money that can be made in Shanghai. Do you not trust me to do this? To let me take Halfy’s place?” She waited, her breath held as Samuel judged her worth—or lack thereof. And then he followed where she was leading.
“You are rushing to get to the celebration,” he said.
She flushed, her eyes dropping to his left jacket pocket. “I’m not rushing,” she said.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out the wooden case. In it lay the glass hypodermic. It landed on the desk with a muted thunk. From his other pocket he drew out a small bag t
hat held opium. She could smell it in the air, taste the smoke on her tongue, even feel the sweet drug as it slipped into her bloodstream. She had just resolved to stand strong against her father, to act instead of run, and yet here she was, already weakening at the sight of a bag—a simple velvet bag.
“Should we start?” Samuel asked. “Do you want to celebrate now while your husband and I finish the last of the negotiations?”
“Yes.” No! She took a deep breath and spoke a truth she had never voiced. “As long as you control the opium, father, you control me.” She glanced sideways at Zhi-Gang. “And him. Therefore, let me run your trade in girls. Pay me in opium.” She allowed herself to stretch her hand forward toward the velvet bag. “We can both get rich off the trade.”
Samuel’s hand shot out to grip her wrist. The bag contained a great deal of opium. He would not allow her to get to it. Not yet. Not until he had the deal he wanted. Beside her, Zhi-Gang stiffened. He wanted to protect her; she could feel his need like a wave that surrounded and supported her. With him here, she felt strong enough to face her father, to do what needed to be done.
“How many brothels? How will I run your trade?” she pressed.
“How much opium do you want?” Samuel asked.
She shrugged. “We can sell thirty pounds a month.” An exorbitant amount, and it was roundly scoffed at by all in the room but Zhi-Gang. She had expected no less, even hoped for the reaction, as the two guards visibly relaxed with their laughter. They knew the rhythm of dicker, then celebration. Their services would not be needed, and so they relaxed, thinking they would simply be observers.
“Not so ridiculous an amount,” Anna began. But Zhi-Gang stepped forward.
“For three beautiful girls? Twenty-five pounds a month. No less. There is a great hunger for opium in Jiangsu.”
Samuel relaxed his grip on Anna’s wrist and turned to Zhi-Gang. The two men engaged in a heated back and forth, apparently both enjoying the exercise. And as the negotiation continued, Samuel relaxed even more. He allowed Anna to take the velvet bag and the wood box.