Year of the Tiger (Changeling Sisters)

by Heather Heffner

  “Careful. You almost hit the latch. This is a balisong, a butterfly knife. Prince Duck Young gave it to me. If I throw it, the wind will carry it where it needs to go.” I heard the knife click open. “Lady Amrit told me the princes only give such gifts to the forerunners. The girls they fully intend to pursue.”

  “Does hestill callyou Dewdrop?” I slurred.

  An angry gasp. “Does Khyber call you anything?”

  “My name.”

  “I’ve been helping the prince track down something important. There’s a softer side to Duck Young, Raina. The side that wants to find his family. To discover what he’s lost. My photo awakened that part in him. But he can’t show it. Don’t you understand, Raina? The princes are prisoners of the Vampyre Queen, just as we are. Prince Duck Young, in particular, is in trouble. The Queen is questioning his competence now that an important object has fallen into enemy hands. If he can’t climb back into the Queen’s favor, then God knows what she will do! If Prince Duck Young goes, then Marisol and I are as good as dead, too!”

  I heard a distinct tremor in her tone whenever she spoke of “the Queen.” Not Maya, or that vampyre bitch. The Queen. The story of what Maya had done to me must have really struck a nerve. Or something worse was going on.

  I fumbled for her shoulder. She remained as cold as a statue, giving me no help.

  “Colleen, if Duck Young is in danger, then he brought it upon himself. He’s the enemy. You can’t sympathize with him. Remember, vampyres hunt by seduction.”

  “Actually, he didn’t bring it upon himself.” Her voice was strangely stiff. “Your other sister, Citlalli, did this to him.”

  In an instant, I knew what this was about: Duck Young’s soul. I wondered if she actually expected me to apologize for my sister kicking some ass. Citlalli could burn Duck Young’s soul for all I cared. And then hand the remains over to Khyber to do away with.

  “Just be careful, okay, Raina?” Colleen spoke again, and suddenly she was the scared fourteen-year-old again. “Prince Duck Young already did really awful things to Marisol in retaliation. That’s why I’m his right-hand woman now. He’ll be after you next.”

  “What if he asks his right-hand woman to bring me to him?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Chapter 8: Battle Plans

  This time, when I texted Rafael, all I wrote was: I know about the invitation. My phone beeped within seconds:

  Apgujeong Station, Exit 2. Meet me in front of Galleria Department Store.

  “And that’s how it’s done!” I told Saja smugly. His eyes smoldered amber-gold in response.

  I spotted the familiar broad-shouldered figure propped up against the Galleria’s pillars, nodding to the group of giggling female shoppers making quite a few trips back and forth. I pursed my lips.

  “Hey.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Shop on your own time. You owe me answers.”

  “I missed you, too.” Rafael seized me in an unexpected hug, and came away holding my tiger embossed invitation. “What might this be?”

  “Just my old friend Maya inviting me over for a cup of tea…in the Vampyre Court. I mean, shit! What do I do, Raf? This is the clearest shot I’ll have at rescuing my sister…but there’s no way in hell Maya singled me out to discuss ‘peace treaties’. ”

  “No. More likely fashion tips on how to fit into the twenty-first century. The vampyres gave you this invitation and let you just walk away?” Rafael looked me up and down. “This has to be about something only you can give her.”

  “When were you going to tell me about it?”

  “When I figured out how to fake big Citlalli hair and Citlalli loud-mouth to go in your stead.”

  I punched him in the shoulder and was surprised when he winced. The light caught his brow, and I gaped at the large eggplant-colored bruise winding its way down his temple, his jaws…

  “Who did this to you?” I rolled up his sleeve and saw three distinct slivers of puckered red flesh. Claw marks. “This wasn’t vampyres.”

  Rafael shoved his sleeve down. “Keeping you away was for the best,” he said harshly. “That way, they could only blame me for violating pack orders. They think you followed me out of misguided admiration.”

  “But it was my idea to go to Eve!”

  “No.” Rafael gripped my shoulders. “I was the one who convinced you to go. I was the one who left you alone during the vampyre attack on Hyeon Bin’s house. I was the one who let Khyber hurt you. That’s the story, and if you want to even be considered as the Weres’ representative to the Vampyre Court, then you’ll act like the most innocent calf to ever leave the stables.”

  I was speechless. Rafael tugged my hand. “Come on. Let’s go meet the pack. And when did you get a dog?”

  “He’s Una’s jindo, Saja.”

  “Smells odd.”

  We dove into the byzantine alleys of Apgujeong, fast losing ourselves in the neon-bright lights for bibimbap restaurants, love motels, and high-tech clubs. It was enough to give an epileptic person a seizure. Rafael led me to a small, tucked-away staircase next to a pulsing night club. Saja inflated like a porcupine at the scent of so many wolves, so I tied him up outside.

  The other pack members jumped up when they saw me.

  “Hey, Citlalli.” Kaelan wrapped an arm around me. “How is it being the Nine-Fingered Girl?”

  “Still trying to let go of my dream of becoming the next Robin Hood.”

  “And I, to swim the English Channel.” Kaelan kicked off his boot, and I could see that three of his toes had been blown off.

  “Citlalli.” Moon approached with a tray full of bean cakes. “Eat. You don’t look well.”

  “Next to Rafael, I’d say I could run for the Miss Seoul Beauty Pageant—”

  Rafael shot me a dark glare, and I shut myself up with a bean cake.

  “How’s the war going without me?”

  “Not well,” Kaelan replied. “As you can imagine, replacing the crazy-eyed black wolf with a flock of goshawks doesn’t exactly send the enemy running for the trees.”

  Moon stirred her tea, lips pursed. “We clean them from Suwon. They pop up in Incheon. We clean them from Incheon. They pop up in Myeong-Dong.”

  “I saw what happened in Wangsimni,” I said apologetically.

  Kaelan gazed off darkly. “That was an evil night. They were waiting for us. We almost didn’t get the kids out in time.”

  Rafael kicked his feet up on a bar stool. “Cheer up. I booby-trapped that place. This time tomorrow, the emergency light system will go on exactly at noon, when those monsters are snoozing away in our headquarters. There’ll be quite a mess for you to clean up, Bae,” he called over his shoulder.

  Jaehoon strode out from the back room and rested a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. It was both friendly and warning at the same time. I watched the way his old, knotted fingers dug into the fresh scars, and I knew who had beaten Rafael. I tightened my lips and couldn’t look at him.

  “Citlalli-si.”

  “Juin-nim,” I coughed the word up. The silence stretched, and I spent a great deal of time tracing the dried mud rivers on my boots. I knew Jaehoon was my pack leader, but he had hurt Rafael, and that would take one hell of an explanation for me to forgive.

  “Come with me.” Jaehoon turned on his heel, and I reluctantly followed, dread growing with every step.

  We entered the back study, and Jaehoon handed me an old photo. “Hold this.”

  It was a black-and-white photograph from the 1950s. Weary, haggard men and women gripped each other’s shoulders with what strength remained in their bones. Their guns propped them up. I was struck by one girl who looked to be my age. Her thinning black hair was hacked-off like a boy’s, and her clothes buried her. She was missing one eye, but the other bore into me, a feral FUCK YOU to the world, more Were than human.

  “Korean War. My old pack. We were many, back in the days when werewolves lived all over Korea. Before the war drove us to Seoul. He was our juin-nim.�
�� I spotted the horse-faced man in the back, who still managed a jovial gap-toothed grin despite the misery surrounding him. I almost didn’t recognize a younger Jaehoon standing seriously beside him, skin prematurely crinkled like a corn husk from the sun. The entire pack unconsciously gravitated toward the pair.

  “This was his daughter.” The finger moved to the girl who was my age. “Brought up to be tough as gingko bark. During the war, we began to lose focus on who the real enemy was. The young were very angry when the North invaded, killing their brothers and sisters. The jun-nim’s daughter urged him to spend more of our energy helping the Southern army. With our shape-shifting ability, the Northern soldiers never saw us coming. The juin-nim began to listen to his daughter more and more. However, she was inexperienced, and other voices rose up in the pack. The juin-nim tried to keep us together by listening to them all. Everyone was allowed to do what they wanted. When we divided, we became weak. And the vampyres were waiting.”

  He passed me another photograph. This was a color picture from the present. All of the familiar faces of the current pack toasted with their soju glasses. I didn’t recognize anyone from the Korean War days.

  “They are all dead now. I am the only one left now.” Jaehoon pulled my hands close to his chest, where I could feel his old heart thudding on slowly, like a hollow drumbeat.

  “A leader makes decisions that everyone may not like. But he does keep everyone together,” Jaehoon told me. “I am sorry for what I had to do to Rafael. The juin-nim’s daughter was much like him. Passionate. Inspiring. Do you know who her older pack brother was? It was me. I allowed her anger to burn free like a wildfire. I didn’t teach her how to cool it, how to reach peace of mind. And she died because of me. This cannot happen with you and Rafael, or else I will banish you from the pack. Don’t you understand? I don’t have just your sister’s life to think about. I have theirs’.” He nudged the present-day photo forward again.

  “I understand.” I swallowed back my tears.

  “Perhaps this is my fault,” Jaehoon murmured. “You have demonstrated an Alpha temperament from the moment you came here, and I have burdened you with small duties like baby-sitting and shopping. Of course you would never be satisfied with that. Your Wolf is so…unusual. We shall have to take a different teaching path with you. I am worried that even you do not fully understand what sleeps within you.”

  I shuddered, thinking of how Wolf had seized control of my mind against my will. “I’m scared.”

  “And what to do about the Vampyre Queen’s false invitation.” Jaehoon released me and leaned back thoughtfully. “Maybe you know what she wants with you?”

  “I think it has to do with souls,” I began, and then related everything I’d gleaned from Raina’s dreams.

  When I’d finished, Jaehoon looked at me with fresh, sharp eyes—the eyes of an old war dog. “Maya is playing a most dangerous game if the Dark Spirits are involved,” he said. “And if she plays a dangerous game, then we cannot afford to play a safe one.”

  My head shot up. I placed the invitation on the table between us. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

  Chapter 9: Careful, the Floors Are Wet

  The soft swish of wings cut through the air, alighting on the windowsill. I rolled over from my tight curl and strained my eyes hard, oh-so-hard, to see. “Khyber?”

  The figure said nothing. Against the moonlight, I could make out an outline of broad shoulders and wavy hair. I fumbled for his hand. “Khyber? Is that you?”

  “May I come in?”

  My fingers froze in his. It was Donovan.

  He gave a deep velveteen laugh, squeezing my hand painfully hard. “I only ask out of courtesy. Of course I can come in

  “So this is where she keeps you.” Donovan waved a hand in front of my face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  “Your middle finger.”

  “See? You aren’t that blind.” Donovan smoothed the hair back from my face. I felt his cold lips scrape my forehead. “It hurts me to see you this way. Such a pretty face, staring off sightlessly. Hopelessly. If you were mine, I would have ordered my mother to release you in an instant. Not have marathons of sex with her, as my eldest brother has.”

  “You’re all prisoners of Maya,” I echoed Colleen’s weak excuse for hope. “You all have to do what Maya says.”

  “I don’t.” Donovan hoisted me up against the wall and stuck a knee between my legs. “In the past, Mommy dearest pointed me toward certain girls. Prettier, more obedient girls than you. I played with them and they weren’t to my liking. Goes to show she doesn’t know anything when it comes to fucking. I take my own advice. And you, mademoiselle,” he said, walking his long fingers up my breasts to my lips, “are fast losing the race to spark life in my oh-so-cold, dead heart.”

  He caressed my face, and then kissed me lightly on the lips. My mind was numb with shock. I vaguely remembered Khyber ordering me to seduce Donovan so I could find the whereabouts of his soul. The thought had seemed outrageous at the time. It seemed downright impossible now.

  “I can’t see,” I mumbled lamely.

  He lifted his shadowy head from where it rested on my chest. “All the better. Then you can only feel.”

  The sliding door creaked open. I was so happy I didn’t care if it was a freakin’ Dark Dog.

  “Prince Donovan!” Colleen’s voice squeaked. Even better.

  “Duck Young’s favorite.” Donovan looked her up and down. “Would you care to join us? For someone named after the rain, this girl always feels as dry as a desert.”

  “I—we—it’s our time at the baths, my Prince,” Colleen managed, and I’d never felt prouder of her. “We must go now. Erm, it’s women only.”

  “Ah, the women’s bathhouse. A fantasy all of its own.” Donovan pressed my face to his.

  “I’ll see what I can do for your eyes and ears,” he promised in a whisper, and then he was gone.

  Colleen hovered in the doorway, a halo of gray candlelight flickering around her feet. “I was right to interrupt that, wasn’t I?”

  “More than right.”

  “But really, Raina. He’s so handsome! Much more charming than Khyber.”

  “Most rapists are,” I retorted. But I couldn’t judge her too harshly. Hadn’t I fallen under the same swoon-worthy spell after Khyber’s bite? He had done something unforgiveable to me, and no matter how much my body whined otherwise, I couldn’t overlook it. He’d taken my freewill.

  We made our way down to the baths. I felt my way along tub rims and hot pools to the shower stall. Colleen led my hands over the faucet and the soap.

  “I’m so happy to be able to wash my hair again,” she gushed. It had begun to grow back after her deal with the Madame of Memories. However, every time it touched her shoulders, it fell out like clockwork. The Madame’s price.

  “I’ll be right down this way,” Colleen promised, and secured the thin shower stall door. Water dripped on my head, but I made no move to pick up the soap.

  I felt for the shower wall, slid down it until the water pounded in my ears like a waterfall, drowning out everything else. I buried my head in my knees. It was okay. I was in the water again. Everything would be okay. I just had to stay above the vampyres’ twisted games, hover in the wings, away from the carnage, until Citlalli found me. Until she came, I couldn’t change. I had to remember myself. Raina. The quiet sister who swam in the Rio Hondo river when no one was looking, who ran to comfort my sisters when they were sad, who kept Papi’s secret from everyone, even Citlalli.

  I curled up further, dreaming myself away to a place I could still escape to: the past.

  ***

  I skipped home early from my piano lesson, crunching yellow leaves underfoot. Usually I moved quickly through this neighborhood, but my mind was lost in the twinkling of keys and the thrill of the damper pedal, which would sustain notes on and on, until my piano teacher would tell me to quit being so over-dramatic.

  I barged through
the screen door, and Papi and a stranger jumped as a squeal of tires followed me in.

  They made a brief exchange in Spanish, too quick for me to follow. Papi had tried to read Spanish bedtime stories to Citlalli and me when we were younger, but Mami had berated him for it.

  “We’re in America now,” she’d scolded. “Why do they need to know español? You’re just confusing them.”

  In a show of rare rebellion, Papi continued to speak to us in Spanish whenever she wasn’t around. But then I began to pick it up much faster than Citlalli, and he grew discouraged.

  “Raina, mija.” Papi clutched my shoulders, looking at me directly for the first time. “I need you to do something for me.”

  When the knock came at the door, I stood up and marched woodenly over to answer it, like a good little soldier.

  Three officers stood in the doorway, wearing matching black vests and sunglasses that hid their faces.

  “Hi, sweetie,” one said. “Is your father home?”

  I shook my head.

  “Is an adult in the house with you?”

  “No. I came back early from my piano lesson.”

  “You shouldn’t be home alone.”

  “I’m old enough to look after myself,” I blurted, before adding, “And my neighbor, Mr. Lee, checks in on me.” My palm was sweaty on the door handle. “Keep it short and sweet, mija,” Papi’s voice ran through my head, filled with urgency.

  “When will your father be back?”

  “After my bedtime.”

  Two of the officers chuckled. One didn’t.

  “Have you seen this man?” he suddenly said, thrusting forth a photo of the stranger in the kitchen.

  I shook my head swiftly

  “Or any of these men?” Another photo was pressed into my hands. I recognized all of the men in the picture. Papi’s friends. After they finished their day jobs, they’d catch a drink together at the bar downtown.

  “No.” My lower lip began to quiver.