The following evening Russell was perched high in a tree, aiming his binoculars at the interior of one of Han’s encampments. He’d counted only a dozen soldiers so far. Half of them were immersed in a dice game, gambling away what little money they had. Others were dozing or drinking. Only one was gazing over the battlements occasionally in a halfhearted attempt at guard duty. Clearly, Han wasn’t here. Nor were any of his high-ranking officers.
With a sigh, Russell lowered his binoculars. As much as he enjoyed the thought that last night’s assassination attempt must have scared the crap out of Han, the result was damned annoying. The coward was hiding so well now that Russell couldn’t find him anywhere.
Last night, after delivering the princess to Tiger Town, he’d visited each of Han’s thirty camps, searching for the bastard. No luck. After finding two of Han’s officers, Russell had hidden on the roof to listen in on the conversation, hoping they would mention Han or even the location of a new camp.
Nothing. He’d considered kidnapping one of the officers and trying vampire mind control on him to acquire more information, but it probably wouldn’t have worked. Russell was able to erase memories, but all of his attempts to control supersoldiers had failed. As far as he could tell, the demon Darafer had programmed their minds to obey only him and Master Han.
With dawn approaching, Russell had been forced to call it quits and return to his lair. Lying on his bed as death-sleep had stolen over him, he’d imagined the same scene he’d daydreamed for the last two years. The final battle where he beat the hell out of Master Han, ripped off his mask, and then killed him. If he envisioned it enough, it would eventually happen. It had to.
But then something odd had happened. For the first time ever, the dream hadn’t stopped with his victory. He’d seen himself teleport to Tiger Town after the battle and, on bended knee, present Han’s mask to the princess. She’d been dressed in a golden gown with a sparkling tiara on her head. The air around her had shimmered with candlelight, so she’d been surrounded by a golden nimbus, and he’d thought she’d looked more like an angel than a tigress.
“My lady, I have avenged your family for you.”
She’d clutched the mask to her chest as tears had glistened in her golden eyes. “Truly, you are the bravest, most noble man in the world! Nay, in the entire universe!”
With his eyes closed and his mind drowsy, Russell had still managed a derisive snort. Well, if he was going to dream, he might as well dream big.
“How will I ever repay you?” she’d continued, a tear slipping down her soft cheek.
“I’ll think of something.” He’d stepped close and wiped the tear away with his thumb.
“How dare you touch a princess!” She’d pulled her hand back and slapped the hell out of him.
“Shit,” Russell had muttered. Even his dreams turned on him. And with that final thought, he’d plummeted deep into the dark abyss of death-sleep.
Now he leaned against the tree trunk, stifling a groan. Tonight was looking like a repeat of last night’s failure but even worse, for tonight he was constantly plagued with the memory of that stupid dream.
Why did he keep thinking about her? So he found a beautiful woman attractive. Big deal. It just proved he wasn’t completely dead. Only fifty percent dead.
He snorted. How could a were-tiger princess ever be interested in a vampire vagabond who lived in a cave down by the river?
Perhaps the oddest thing about the dream was that it hadn’t ended as usual with Han’s death. For the past few years, Russell had been so intent on reaching his goal that he had never thought past it. What would he do once the villain was dead?
His chest tightened as an insidious, dark cloud crept over him, threatening to overwhelm him with despair. There was nothing for him to do. No family, no home to return to. Nothing.
Was that why he’d let this mission drag on for so long? Because it was the only reason he had to live?
For a moment, he recalled the way Jia had talked to him in the cave. So alive and animated as she’d tried to convince him to team up with her. Even now, the memory of her excitement made him feel lighter inside. What was she doing now? Was she planning her escape? Did she still have those knives strapped to her calf and thigh? He’d been tempted to remove them just as an excuse to touch her soft skin.
He shoved that thought aside and teleported to the last camp. High on a bluff, he studied the soldiers. They looked bored. Disinterested. If Han was here, they’d be on their toes, for he had a nasty habit of murdering any soldier he was displeased with.
No Han in sight. Another night down the drain.
Russell teleported back to his underground lair. The bat cave, he liked to call it. After lighting a few lamps, his gaze drifted to the spot by the river where Jia had stood the night before. She was the only one who had ever seen his secret hideout. Our secret hideout.
He shook away the memory of her voice as he unloaded the pockets of his coat. He adjusted his watch and caught a glimpse of the tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. Slave, it said. Whenever he needed a reminder of how much he hated Han, he only had to look at the damned mark.
“Why, you bastard?” Russell muttered. Why had Han picked him? And why leave him in a coma for thirty-nine years?
With a sigh, Russell wandered over to the bookcase to plug the sat phone in to recharge it. Life had improved since he’d acquired the new solar-powered generator. The wires from the generator ran through the thin ceiling and up the nearby massive tree to the panels he’d installed on top of the oak tree’s sturdy branches. He popped a bottle of synthetic blood into his new microwave, then levitated to hang up his crossbow and quiver.
His gaze returned to that spot. Don’t think about her. He dropped to the ground, retrieved the warm bottle from the microwave, and paced about the cave as he drank.
He would do some laundry. That would keep him busy. He set his bottle on the table, then grabbed a bucket and went to the river to fill it up. There he spotted the imprint in the sand from where she’d stepped into the river and back onto the shore. There had been a cat woman in his bat cave. The thought made him smile.
What the hell was he doing, grinning like an idiot? He tossed the bucket down and strode away. “She’s not my problem.”
He dragged a stool up to the table and went to work cleaning his handguns. The ritual was always the same, and it relaxed him, helped him focus. Not my problem, he repeated to himself as he went through the motions.
He had only one problem. Killing Han. And what then? His gaze slid back to where Jia had stood the night before. Not my problem. But didn’t she have the same problem he did? Would it hurt to keep her informed? What if he went to Tiger Town to give her an update?
With an abrupt move, he stood, knocking over his stool. He paced about the cave, but it seemed like the walls were closing in on him. He finished his bottle of blood, then checked on his stash of synthetic blood. One ice chest was empty; the other still had six bottles. The ice had melted, leaving a pool of water.
Good. Something to do. He threw on his coat and leather gloves, grabbed a knife and two buckets, then teleported to the edge of a glacier in the Himalayas. As a Vamp, he could tolerate cold better than most mortals could, but even so, the instant change to subzero temperatures was like slamming into a brick wall. He went to work at vampire speed, and within a few seconds, he’d chipped off enough ice to fill his buckets.
Back in his cave, he emptied the ice into the second ice chest and pulled out the stopper so the melted ice could drain into a bucket. This was the water he used for brushing his teeth. Sometimes he warmed it up to use for his shower.
As he pulled off his gloves, he checked his watch. Five hours had passed since he’d awakened. Five hours that he’d not talked to another living soul. Since when did that ever bother you? His gaze shifted back to Jia’s spot. Damn her for making his solitude seem so . . . solitary.
The sun would have set at Zoltan Czakvar’s castle in Transylvania. Even though Russell had enough blood to last a few more days, it wouldn’t hurt to have more. He loaded his empty bottles into the first ice chest, dropped the fully charged sat phone into his coat pocket, then grabbed the ice chest and his quiver and teleported to Zoltan’s castle.
The second he landed in the armory, an alarm went off, the pitch designed so that only vampires and shifters could hear it. Thanks to Zoltan’s head of security, Howard Barr, the castle now boasted the best in high-tech security. Ironic, Russell thought, since he wasn’t sure Zoltan needed security anymore.
After eight hundred years of being a vampire, Zoltan had accidentally re-mortalized himself two months ago by drinking too much of the Living Water from the hidden valley of Beyul-La. As far as Russell could tell, Zoltan was taking the change fairly well. He was so damned happy with his new wife, newly adopted son, and baby on the way that he constantly had a dopey grin on his face.
Russell stifled a groan. He wasn’t going to begrudge Zoltan his newfound joy. After eight hundred years, the guy deserved a break. And he’d always been a good friend. He’d been the one to help Russell adjust to being undead. He’d taught him how to use his new skills, and after Russell had gone AWOL, Zoltan had generously allowed him to take whatever supplies he’d needed from the castle without reporting him to Russell’s old boss, Angus MacKay.
It was different now that Howard Barr was at the castle. The Kodiak bear shifter worked for Angus, so everything Russell did or said on these premises was reported.
Russell set the ice chest and quiver on the table. When the alarm abruptly stopped, he glanced up at the newly installed camera. No doubt Howard knew exactly where he was. Any second now, the nosy were-bear would come charging down the spiral staircase to butt into his life and ask him a million questions.
With vampire speed, Russell filled his coat pockets with ammo. Then he set the box of arrows on the table and pried off the lid.
Footsteps pounded down the spiral staircase. “Russell.” Howard ducked to keep from knocking his head on the low stone archway.
“Howard.” Russell grabbed a handful of arrows and stuffed them into the quiver.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Howard said as he approached. “You usually wait two full weeks before returning.”
Russell shrugged and added more arrows to his quiver.
Howard planted his hands on the table, leaning toward him. “I heard you saw the dragon shifter, Xiao Fang, last night.”
Russell paused, then put the lid back on the arrow box. No doubt J.L. had reported immediately to his boss, and it hadn’t taken Angus long to spread the word.
“How was he?” Howard asked.
“He looked okay.” Russell returned the box to its place on a shelf. “Han was giving him an archery lesson. Patting him on the back like a proud papa.”
“Sick creep,” Howard muttered.
“Exactly.”
“Look, the next time you see Xiao Fang, give J.L. or Mikhail a call. They’ll come instantly and bring some shifters with them. We’ll help you get the boy out of there.”
“I work alone.”
Howard gave him an annoyed look. “I know you want to kill Han all by yourself, and you’re welcome to it, but this is a young boy we’re talking about. From what I hear, he could start shifting any day now. We need to get him away from Han as quickly as possible.”
Russell slipped the quiver over his shoulder and reached for the ice chest.
“Wait.” Howard strode over to the shelf where he kept the sat phones. “Take a new phone with you so you can call.”
“I have a phone.”
“I gave you that one two months ago.” Howard selected a new phone. “Take this one. It’s fully charged.”
“So is mine.”
“What?” Howard blinked. “How—”
“I’m going to the kitchen now—”
“Wait!” Howard stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “I noticed something odd when Mikhail and I went back to Beyul-La to pick up the supplies. One of the solar-powered generators was missing. And a microwave.” He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head with a wry look. “Any idea what happened to those items?”
Russell returned his wry look. “Not a clue.” He teleported to the castle’s kitchen.
He unloaded the empty bottles from the ice chest and tossed them into the recycle bin. Then he helped himself to a Bleer from the fridge. He was halfway through the mixture of beer and synthetic blood when Howard charged into the kitchen and screeched to a halt.
Russell glanced at his watch. “It took you longer than usual. Been eating too many donuts?”
Howard glared at him. “I’ll take your hasty departure as a sign of guilt. I always suspected it was you, so I never reported the missing stuff to Angus.”
Surprised, Russell set his Bleer bottle on the counter. “I appreciate that.”
“We would have never defeated Lord Liao or won that last battle without your help.” Howard gave him a frustrated look. “Whether you like it or not, we’re on the same side.”
“I work alone.” Russell turned to open the refrigerator.
With a sigh, Howard lumbered toward the kitchen table. “I was alone for years, and it sucked.”
A vision of Jia flashed across Russell’s mind, but he pushed it aside and started loading his ice chest with bottles of synthetic blood. “Is Zoltan here?”
“Mikhail teleported him to his townhouse in Budapest.” Howard sat at the kitchen table and reached for his box of donuts. “The monthly coven meeting started about twenty minutes ago. It may be awhile before they get back.”
Russell paused with the ice chest half full. “Why would Zoltan go to a vampire coven meeting?”
Howard bit into a donut. “He’s still Coven Master of Eastern Europe.”
“But he’s no longer a vampire.”
Howard shrugged. “As far as I can tell, no one wants to believe it. The villagers went ballistic when he broke the news to them. That’s why I’m still here doing security. Zoltan’s in the weird position now where someone might try to kill him for not being a vampire.”
Russell frowned as he finished loading the ice chest. “Why can’t people be happy for him? It took the guy eight hundred years to get some joy in his life.”
“I know.” Howard took another bite from his donut. “But the villagers are dependent on the tours that come twice a week. Busloads of people come here to see a real vampire castle and spend money in town. If rumor spreads that Zoltan isn’t really a vampire—”
“They could lose their cash cow,” Russell concluded.
Howard snorted. “You could put it that way.” He stuffed the last of his donut into his mouth. “At last month’s coven meeting, Zoltan broke the news to all the Vamps and told them they would have to vote on a new Coven Master this month.”
“Makes sense.” Russell piled some ice on top of the bottles in the chest, then closed the lid. “I’ll be on my way then.”
Howard sat up abruptly. “They’re back. That was fast.”
Zoltan materialized close to the kitchen counter with Mikhail, an old vampire friend from Russia. The sour look on Zoltan’s face brightened when he saw Russell. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” Russell shook hands with the only Vamp he called friend. “Thank you for keeping the fridge full of synthetic blood. I know you don’t need it anymore.” He handed a Bleer to Mikhail and a regular beer to Zoltan.
“Thanks.” Zoltan’s frown returned as he wrenched the top off the bottle. “I need a drink.”
“The coven meeting was over fast,” Howard observed. “What happened?”
“Don’t ask.” Zoltan collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and gulped down some beer.
“What’s wrong?” Howard pushed the box of donuts toward Zoltan. “Didn’t they vote for a new Coven Master?”
Zoltan shot an annoyed look at Mikhail. “The vote was unanimous.”
Mikhail scowled back. “Don’t blame me. I can’t be Coven Master of Eastern Europe. I live in Russia.”
“Close enough,” Zoltan muttered. “You could have volunteered.”
Mikhail snorted. “I have no patience for all the whining that goes on at Coven Court. I would declare everyone guilty and fine them a million euros for wasting my time.”
Zoltan sighed and reached for a donut.
“So who is the new Coven Master?” Howard asked.
Zoltan took a bite and mumbled, “They voted for me again.”
Russell scoffed. “But you’re not a vampire.”
“They don’t care!” Zoltan waved the donut in the air. “They know I could still live forever, so apparently I’m stuck with the job for all eternity!”
Howard grimaced. “They’re willing to let a non-vampire judge them at Coven Court?”
Zoltan groaned. “Lazy bastards. I should do like Mikhail said and fine them all a million euros.” He gave the Russian a wry look. “You’re not off the hook. I’ll need someone to teleport me to all the meetings.”
Mikhail grunted, then gulped down some Bleer. “Why don’t you just let me turn you back into a vampire? Don’t you miss being able to teleport?”
“I do miss that.” Zoltan nodded. “But not enough to give up the days I can have with my wife and family. And stuff like this—” He eyed the donut in his hand. “This is damned good.” He popped the rest into his mouth.
Howard sat back with a smirk. “Now you’re talking.”
Mikhail shook his head. “If we’re done for the night, I should get back to Moscow. Pam’s working—”
“I need a lift back to Tiger Town,” Zoltan interrupted him.
Mikhail gave him an annoyed look. “What am I, your taxi service?”
Zoltan shrugged. “You wouldn’t have to cart me around if you’d taken the Coven Master job.”
Mikhail groaned and drank more Bleer.
“I’ll take you.” As soon as the words were out of Russell’s mouth, he flinched. What the hell was he doing?
Even Zoltan looked surprised. “Oh. Thanks, Russell.”
“I’m out of here then.” Mikhail vanished, taking his bottle of Bleer with him.
Russell swallowed hard. He couldn’t back out now. He was going to Tiger Town. The thought of seeing Jia again made his heart beat faster. Dammit. What was wrong with him? It wasn’t like the princess would be happy to see him. She’d probably slap him again.
Zoltan stood. “Can you give me a few minutes? I need to grab my bag from upstairs.”
“That’s fine.” Russell picked up the loaded ice chest. “I need to take my supplies home first.”
“Home?” Howard eyed him curiously. “You’ve never mentioned a home before. Where is it?”
Shit. Now he was saying too much. Without another word, Russell teleported back to the bat cave. Using vampire speed, he put away his new supplies. The faster he moved, the faster his heart pounded. Since it was a warm August night, he decided to leave his coat behind. He put on a clean T-shirt, then quickly washed his face, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair.
What the hell are you doing? This wasn’t a date. He was just going to check in on Jia to see how she was faring. That was all. It was well after midnight in Tiger Town, so she was probably asleep. Or she might not even be there. She might have already escaped.
The thought of her trekking through the forest in the middle of the night made his chest tighten. He quickly teleported back to pick up Zoltan, then took him to Tiger Town. Zoltan had called his wife to let her know he was on his way, so she was waiting for him in the courtyard.
Zoltan dropped his duffel bag on the stone pavement and ran toward Neona. She laughed as he whirled her around in a circle.
Russell looked away, annoyed that after two months of marriage, the two were still acting like newlyweds. To his surprise, he spotted Rajiv at the top of the stairs that led down the riverbank. The were-tiger was focused on something in the distance.
“I thought you’d be asleep.” Russell approached him.
Rajiv turned and greeted him. “Any luck finding Han tonight?”
“No.” Russell motioned toward Zoltan. “I gave him a lift.”
“That’s good.” Rajiv turned back to gaze at the road that led south. “Someone’s coming.”
Russell narrowed his eyes. “Looks like a truck. Isn’t it late to have visitors?”
Rajiv glanced toward him with a brief smile. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere. For those of us who can’t teleport, it takes a long time to get here.”
Russell nodded and shifted his weight.
Rajiv gave him a curious look. “Was there something you needed? Did you want to talk to Jin Long?”
“No, no. I’m fine.” Russell glanced north to where the royal residences were situated. “Just wondering . . .” He shifted his weight again. “Is your cousin all right?”
“Jia?” Rajiv looked surprised. “Sure. She seemed fine at dinner.”
So she was still here. Russell’s pulse accelerated.
Rajiv studied the approaching truck to the south. “I’ll see what’s going on.” He started down the stairs to the riverbank. “So long.”
“Later.” Russell glanced again toward the houses built on the north side of the courtyard. Zoltan and Neona had already disappeared down an alleyway to their home.
He teleported to the edge of the courtyard, then moved quickly and quietly through the maze of houses. Jia’s home should be easy enough to spot. It would be the one with guards out front.
Jia paced back and forth in her room, growing increasingly agitated. It looked like she had no choice but to go with Plan C, but just thinking about it filled her with dread. Surely there had to be another way, but she’d racked her brain all day, and this was the best she could come up with.
Her backpack was ready to go. She’d packed an extra set of clothes and the rest of her knives. A rolled-up cotton quilt was strapped to the bottom of her backpack so she could use it for catnaps. Her favorite four knives were in place, either in her boots or attached to her legs.
It was just her fear that was making her hesitate. With a growl of frustration, she whipped the knife from her right boot and hurled it at the silk banner on the wall. A hit, dead center between the man’s legs.
Damn. Even her aim was off. Get a hold of yourself.
All day long she’d strategized and come up with three plans. It would be easier to escape late at night after most were-tigers were asleep, so she’d waited a few hours after sunset to put her plans into action.
Plan A: telling the guards she wanted a late-night snack from the palace kitchen. She would conceal her backpack beneath a bulky cape, then, while the guards thought she was on her way to the kitchen, she would make a run for it.
A hundred yards to the north, there was a trail that wound downhill from the bluff to the riverbank. Her uncles, Rinzen and Tenzen, had a canoe stashed nearby in some bushes, since they loved to go fishing. She would take their canoe across the river and head toward the nearest of Han’s camps. Earlier in the day, she had sneaked into Rajiv’s office in the palace to study his map and take notes on all the locations of Han’s campsites.
Plan A hadn’t worked. Even though she’d assured the guards she would be right back, they had insisted on accompanying her. She’d had no choice but to go to the palace kitchen and pretend to be enjoying some almond cookies. She’d tried to tempt the guards with some strong, homemade Tiger Juice, thinking they’d be easier to handle if they were drunk, but they had refused.
An hour later, she’d tried Plan B. Just a quick trip to the outhouse, she’d assured the guards. No need to accompany her. But they had insisted.
Now she was stuck with Plan C. It was the best plan, actually, but she’d saved it for last, hoping to avoid it. Her hands had trembled as she’d unwound the bolts of red and gold embroidered silk. With the ends tied together, the two lengths of material made a rope about thirty yards long. Since the fabric was smooth and slick, she made a knot every three feet to give her a handhold and foothold.
Plan C was simple. Tie one end of the silken rope to the heavy beam that crossed her room’s ceiling. Then toss the other end out the back window so that it fell over the edge of the bluff. She would climb down the rope, then head north to her uncles’ canoe.
You can do this. She tied a knife to the end of the silk rope, then tossed it over the heavy wooden beam that traversed the ceiling. Standing on top of a chest, she tied off the rope and returned the knife to her left boot.
Her knees wobbled as she climbed off the chest. Dammit. Only three feet off the ground, and she was shaking. How on earth would she climb down a thirty-yard rope?
She shook her head, trying to keep the memory from coming back, but it seeped into her mind, eager to torture her and paralyze her with fear. Thirteen years ago, her father had rushed her out the back door of their home and set her on a low branch of a tree. His deep voice edged with tension, he’d instructed her to climb as high as she could. She had. Like most were-tigers, she’d been adept at climbing. But she’d never imagined that high in a tree, she would see her parents and older brother captured by Master Han and slaughtered.
She clenched her fists, chasing the memory away. You can do this. She slipped on her backpack. The door and front window were closed and bolted. She’d placed a second chest by the back window so she could climb out. With trembling hands, she gathered up the silken rope and tossed it out the back window.
Her hands started sweating as she climbed onto the chest and sat on the windowsill. She wiped her hands on her pants, then clutched the silken rope. With a shaky breath, she eased out the window and landed on the bluff.
So far, so good. There was a narrow ledge of land here between the house and the cliff. Don’t look down. Her heart thundered loudly in her ears.
With the silken rope clutched tightly in her hands, she backed up slowly toward the edge of the cliff. Panic seized her, and she stifled a cry. She couldn’t let the guards hear her.
When her feet slipped off the edge, she fell till her arms snapped straight and took the weight. Unfortunately, her hands started sliding. She hissed in a breath, feeling a moment of sheer terror till her hands stopped at a knot. Her shoulders strained, and she desperately struggled to catch the rope between her feet so she could find another knot. She found one and pressed her boots on it to relieve some of the tension on her arms. Her breaths came out in pants, and sweat beaded her brow. You can do this.
She slid her right hand down to the next knot, then quickly grabbed it with her left hand. Her feet came loose, and she dangled from her arms again till she found the next knot with her feet. Don’t look down. She squeezed her eyes shut and took long, slow breaths.
“Going somewhere?” a man’s voice whispered close by.
With a squeal, Jia flinched and her hands slipped.
“Careful.” The man looped his arms around her and pulled her close.
The second she hit his rock-hard chest, she felt an instant surge of relief. Russell was back! He must have changed his mind and decided to work with her after all. And here he was rescuing her. Again!
He was hovering in the air with nothing to hold onto, but he seemed so at ease. Totally strong and confident. When he smiled at her, her heart leaped for joy.
“Russell,” she breathed.
“Yes?”
“You’ve come to help me escape?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you! I know we’ll make a great team!”