Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  Ching Shih’s sniff sounded disdainful. “It’s adequate.” She glanced up at the marble statue. “It does not look like you.”

  “It’s much more impressive than I am.” Xin paused. “Have you ever visited Zheng Yi Sao’s tomb?”

  Ching Shih shook her head.

  “Would you like to?”

  Ching Shih did not answer the question. Instead, she glanced at the people milling around the pavilion erected over Fu Hao’s tomb. “They have come to gawk at a hero’s tomb, yet no one is paying you any attention.”

  “And thank God for that.”

  “But you are her, though millennia apart. You are Fu Hao—living, breathing—yet the people have eyes only for the dead.” Ching Shih shook her head. “They do not see you.”

  Considering the lengthy list of illegal activities Xin planned to engage in, she would have been happier to be invisible. She shrugged, and glanced up, startled, when Ching Shih grasped her arm.

  Her mother gestured with her other hand, a sweeping motion that encompassed the ruins of the ancient Shang capital. “Do you not feel history bearing down upon you, all of the expectations and hopes of the people resting on you?”

  Xin shook her head. “The only burden I feel is my endless To Do list. There’s more than enough in the present, never mind the future, to keep me occupied. The past doesn’t hold anything for me.”

  “You are so insensitive.”

  Xin scowled. “I’m insensitive because I’ve decided not to be constrained by the fact that my genetic donor was a queen, general, and high priestess more than three thousand years ago? Well, there aren’t too many job descriptions that call for that kind of multitasking anymore. Besides, joining the National Security Agency as an analyst definitely trumped starting out as one of the king’s sixty wives. So, to answer your unasked question—no, I do not look back on a past that is not mine with any measure of regret. Do you?” Xin tossed her final question out with the snap of an attack.

  The momentary shock on Ching Shih’s face retreated behind an expressionless façade.

  “You do,” Xin breathed. “You’re comparing yourself to Zheng Yi Sao?”

  “And why shouldn’t I? We are the same people on the inside.”

  “You have the same genes, but that’s it. At best, you’re her twin, several centuries removed, and subjected to an entirely different environment and circumstances.” Xin studied the stricken expression in her mother’s eyes. “Do you have regrets?”

  “I didn’t know who I was until you were born. The servants made such a fuss about you; I knew you were special. My amah knew better than to tell me the truth, but I overheard two kitchen maids say that you were the reincarnation of the Lady Fu Hao, and that I, only the clone of Zheng Yi Sao, had been supplanted.” Ching Shih looked away. “For the first time, I realized who I was and everything I had failed to accomplish.”

  Xin arched an eyebrow. “What exactly did you fail to do? Become a prostitute or become a pirate queen? You should know that times have changed. The former is now considered much more acceptable than the latter.”

  “We are all products of the past.”

  “Of course we’re products of the past, but it doesn’t mean we have to live in it, or worse, walk down the same path. Central air-conditioning and flush toilets trump all the prestige of my royal past.”

  Ching Shih exploded into laughter.

  Xin stared at her mother. The delight in that rare and unconstrained sound drew a matching chuckle from her.

  The humor melted into a warm silence, and Ching Shih looked up once more at the magnificent status of Fu Hao. “Tell me. Do you truly not feel cold in the shadow history has cast over you?”

  Xin glanced up. The rays of sunlight spilled over the top of the statue, bathing its features in gold. The shadow of the statue glided over its pedestal and over Xin, who stood squarely in its shade.

  She frowned. The one thing she was certain she hated about her mother was the way Ching Shih usually managed to incorporate the physical into the figurative and come across sounding like a mystic, or worse, a soothsayer. Xin shrugged off the chill of the afternoon and of her mother’s words. “The only shadow I care about is the one I cast.”

  Ching Shih’s smile was wistful. “You are strong where I could not be.”

  The sound of a crying child drew Xin’s attention to an infant toddling unsteadily toward a woman, likely his mother, who kept stepping away, always placing herself beyond his reach. The little boy’s face scrunched and tears streamed down his cheeks as his unhappy sobs escalated into distressed wails, but he kept moving forward.

  Xin’s jaw tensed. I had to be strong. I had a mother who wouldn’t let me lean on her.

  Their return to China had brought the past bubbling to the surface—the past that Xin had never dipped into, and that Ching Shih had apparently never let go.

  What else haven’t you told me? And how much of it has to do with Ai Li—the woman who gave birth to me? My real mother?

  That evening, Xin sent the car for Danyael, and she was waiting for him at the entrance of the villa when he arrived. He smiled as their eyes met. “Thanks for the dinner invitation.”

  “Ching Shih enjoyed your company last night, and I hope you don’t mind ours.”

  “It beats having room service alone in my hotel room.” Together, they turned to walk through the courtyards. “How was your day?”

  “Yu Long—the babysitter assigned by Beijing—and I had an interesting conversation today. Beneath its pristine surface, Zhengzhou is apparently a hive of scum and villainy.”

  Danyael chuckled. “Beyond designer drugs and rumors of vampires?”

  “The murder rate is climbing, and they don’t know why. No survivors, no eyewitnesses, no connections, and no motivation. Nothing’s stolen. It’s just slaughter—random and brutal.”

  “How many murders?”

  “Hundreds.”

  “And no witnesses at all?” Danyael shook his head. “That’s not humanly possible.”

  “It isn’t, is it?” Xin’s voice cooled. “It is Ghost month.”

  He frowned at her. “Are you suggesting the murderer isn’t human?”

  “We’d have to consider all possibilities. Science has created monsters.”

  “And the International Genetics and Ethics Council has clamped down on all cross-species research.”

  “Do you really believe a memo from the IGEC is going to make renegade scientists sit up and behave?”

  Danyael’s gaze flicked away. “No, of course not, but they’d have to do it without the support of research universities and government organizations.”

  “Some of the world’s largest companies were born in garages. Why not monsters?” She studied Danyael. “You’re good at controlling monsters, aren’t you? The abominations…the super soldiers. Your empathic powers allow you to connect with their more primal natures.”

  “Is that why I’m here?” Danyael asked pointedly.

  His tone set her on guard. She would have to keep in mind that even the mild-tempered Danyael could get touchy if he thought he was being used or manipulated. “What I need are autopsies from a doctor I trust.”

  “What are you getting yourself into, Xin?”

  “I agreed to help out with some local crime investigation, and the municipal government will look away when I help you hack Excelsior’s research files.”

  “Lots of back scratching going on.” He did not sound critical, though.

  “It’s the way of the world. How was your conversation with Dr. Shen?”

  “She cancelled the meeting. She said that something urgent had come up.”

  “A stalling tactic?”

  “My empathic powers don’t travel over the phone, but she sounded genuinely panicked.”

  “When will you talk to her?”

  “Brandon has invited me over for dinner tomorrow night. Dr. Shen will be there, assuming her crisis is solved.”

  “So you’ll take on t
he ruthless investor and his mad scientist at the same time?”

  Danyael stopped walking. “Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?”

  “You’re trying to be fair at a time like this? You know they’re doing experiments on your blood.”

  “I need facts, not labels. I can’t let my emotions rule my actions. You know that.”

  “Of course.” A faint smile touched Xin’s lips. “It has always struck me as funny that you, the alpha empath, are the least emotional person in any given situation. Is that why you find Zara so compelling? Because she’s everything you can’t allow yourself to be?”

  Danyael’s eyes narrowed. “When did we change the topic?”

  “I’m just curious. Have you heard from her?”

  “She calls when she can.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t drop everything to catch the next plane to Zhengzhou.”

  “She wanted to. I told her I was with you and that everything was fine.”

  Xin laughed. “Now I’m even more surprised she isn’t already here.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “In theory, yes. In practice, it’s not always the case. You’ll be careful when you’re at dinner tomorrow, won’t you?”

  “Surely you’re not concerned they’ll drug my drink.”

  “Some scientists are so dedicated to their mission and so distanced from the real world that they’ll do the unthinkable in pursuit of their goals.”

  “That’s a stereotype.”

  “Stereotypes have a basis in reality. Just be careful.”

  Danyael gritted his teeth. “Xin, do you ever expect good things out of people?”

  Xin chuckled, the sound without humor. “It isn’t about good or evil. It’s about anticipating what people are most likely to do and positioning to counter it or leverage it, depending on what you’re trying to get out of that situation. You should try it sometime; it might be good for you.”

  “And what are you trying to get out of this situation, Xin? Excelsior isn’t experimenting on your blood. You’re not emotionally attached to China, you don’t care what happens to its people, and you don’t care what happens to me, so why are you here?”

  The snap of frustration in his words and his voice caught her off guard. Her eyes widened.

  He shook his head, the motion sharp and angry.

  “Danyael?”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair and turned away. “I’m sorry. Something you said struck me the wrong way.”

  “What was it?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “It was important enough to make you lose your cool.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go in. Your mother’s waiting.”

  Xin gritted her teeth as she stared at Danyael’s back. She had forgotten how non-confrontational Danyael was by nature. Zara was the most antagonistic person Xin knew, yet Danyael had accomplished the near-impossible task of winning both Zara’s respect and love. Oddly, or perhaps not, he had won by not fighting the war on Zara’s terms.

  She recalled a passing conversation with Zara. The assassin had stalked the length of the room, furious over something Danyael had done. The specifics were irrelevant; the insight was far more critical. The assassin had snarled. “Danyael’s going to do whatever the hell he thinks is right; he’s just not going to stand around and argue about it first.”

  Xin sighed. The only thing more exasperating than a man who thought he was right was a man who thought he was right and refused to prove it. If he can’t be convinced, then what else can be done?

  The answer was obvious. Manipulate him.

  It would not be the first time; neither would it be the last. With each time, his trust would crumble further, their friendship erode.

  Then when there’s nothing left, how does one control the world’s most powerful alpha empath?

  8

  The shrill ring of her smartphone yanked Xin out of sound sleep. The rosy pink light of dawn stained the silk curtains and spread over the bamboo floors as she reached for the phone. “This is Xin.”

  “It’s Yu Long. We found two bodies this morning.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the First Affiliated University Hospital. I’ve already spoken to your driver. He’ll be waiting downstairs for you. He knows where to drop you off.”

  Xin hung up and called Danyael, who answered promptly. “Xin? Are you all right?”

  “I need you to check out two bodies at the morgue. How soon can you be ready?”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  Xin flung the covers aside and stepped out of bed. “I’ll be at the lobby with the car.” She set the phone aside and dressed quickly. Reaching for the bedroom door, she flung it open and stopped short.

  Ching Shih stood in the foyer separating their bedrooms. Her hands clenched at the folds of white dressing gown she had pulled around her shoulders. Her eyes appeared large and black in her pale face. “What’s wrong?”

  “They found two more bodies. I’m picking Danyael up, and we’re going to the hospital.”

  “You will be careful.” It was an order, not a request.

  “Of course. I’ll see you later.” Xin started down the stairs, but stopped partway and looked back up at her mother. “Don’t go anywhere alone.”

  Ching Shih’s chin lifted in her trademarked disdainful expression.

  “Mother—” Damn it. Slip of the tongue.

  Ching Shih froze; her eyes were large, like a deer staring at headlights.

  Mother. The last time Xin had called Ching Shih mother, she had loaded the word with sarcasm and tossed it over her shoulder before shutting the door on her childhood and heading off to college. The word had been a sham long before that, but sham or not, it could not easily be purged from her mind or from her heart.

  Ching Shih blinked, the motion breaking their locked gazes. “Why did you—?”

  Xin shook her head and tried not speak through gritted teeth. It was easier and safer to focus on the present than to dig into the past. “It’s not safe in Zhengzhou.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t have time to explain now. Just stay here at the pagoda for now.”

  The slight furrows smoothed out of Ching Shih’s brow. “You will be safe?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Within moments, Xin was in the car and on the way to the JW Marriott where Danyael was already waiting at the curb. When the car pulled up, she opened the door and he slid in beside her. “Do you know when the bodies were found?” he asked.

  “Within the last half hour, although Yu Long didn’t speculate on how long might have passed since they died. I expect you’ll be able to figure it out soon enough.”

  Danyael nodded, but said nothing.

  “I know you’re not here to solve Zhengzhou’s crime wave, so thank you for coming along.”

  He waved her thanks away. “What’s a few favors between friends?”

  Xin tilted her head. “What should I give credence to—the fact that you used the word friend or the ironic twist of your lips as you said it?”

  Danyael chuckled softly. “You were right.”

  “What about?”

  “Zara. When I told her I was in Zhengzhou with you, she wanted to drop everything to catch the next flight to China. I talked her out of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because whatever problem she has with you doesn’t automatically become the problem I have with you.”

  Unless you are the problem she has with me. Zara knows the role I played in sending you to ADX Florence, and she will never forgive me for it. “Didn’t she tell you?”

  Danyael shook his head. “She doesn’t talk much about her work.”

  Why had Zara not told Danyael? “And you don’t ask?”

  “I don’t need details to know what she does for fun as much as for a living.”

  “Maybe she thinks you won’t approve.”

  “Why would she marry
someone who disapproves of her?”

  Xin laughed. “Of course, you’re right. She wouldn’t.” She relaxed against the leather seat. “You’re a doctor by training and a healer by calling; your acceptance of her profession is astonishing in light of who you are.”

  Danyael’s smile transformed his face from the sculptured perfection of a statue to the radiance of an angel. “She accepts me—flaws, weaknesses, all of it.”

  As you do hers. “You make love and marriage sound so simple.”

  He shook his head. “Nothing about Zara is simple. I just try not to over-complicate it.” He glanced out the window as the car turned down a road leading to a massive complex of many interconnected buildings. “Everything seems bigger in China.”

  “The First Affiliated University Hospital is the largest in the world, with 10,000 beds.”

  “Does it come with a mapping application for the smartphone?”

  Xin chuckled. “It probably does, but this time, we have a personal guide.” The car pulled to a stop in front of a small entrance where Yu Long waited. Yu Long opened the door for her, and she stepped out, smiling her thanks. “Yu Long, this is Danyael Sabre. Danyael, Lee Yu Long. Chinese-born, American-raised.” Her gaze shuttled between the two men who appraised each other. Somehow, she was certain she did not need to mention their mutant psychic abilities. The world knew who Danyael was, and Danyael had always had great instincts of others’ psychic abilities. “Are we all set with introductions? Let’s go, then.”

  Yu Long led the way down the florescent-lit corridor, his shoes tapping against the polished tiles. “I’ve arranged for the bodies to be taken to a private forensic laboratory. It’s equipped with everything you might need,” he told Danyael. “I’ve also arranged for two junior doctors to assist you, if desired. They’re both fluent in English. Use them or dismiss them as you choose.” He stopped outside of a stainless steel door. “They’re waiting for you.”

  “Thank you.” Danyael stepped through the doorway and allowed the door to swing shut behind him.

  Yu Long stared at the closed door. “He’s…low-key.”

  Xin chuckled. “What exactly were you expecting?”