Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) (20 page)

Shaking herself, she snatched two sets of everything, stuffed the garments into a duffle bag, and headed back to her apartment.

As she wandered into the living room, searching for him, the ripe, pungent stench of bleach blasted her nostrils, eradicating the last traces of Sheng’s decadent musk.

She wrinkled her nose, scanning the room. He’d cleaned up. The glass doors and white tiles had been scrubbed, revealing no trace of the blood from last night. Everything looked precisely how it had before. As if he hadn’t been bleeding out on her floor.

Water trilled, and her head jerked in the direction of the sound. The bathroom. Sheng was in her bathroom, naked, showering.

A grunting cry echoed down the hall and the duffle bag dropped from her fingers. She sprinted in the direction of the source. Bursting through the door, she scoured the room. “Sheng?” Her gaze settled on the large figure hunched in the shower stall. The room had filled with steam, masking most of his body. His
naked
body.

His head whipped toward her. “Lucy?”

“Are you okay?” She squeaked the question; her cheeks flaming. Clearly he was fine. More than fine. Sexy and naked and wet.

“Stubbed my toe.” His mouth curved in a wicked, beckoning grin, one brow lifting…in invitation?

She nibbled her lip, her brain telling her to walk away, her body refusing to obey the command.

“Want something?” His intense, dark gaze stayed trained on her, unwavering as he straightened.

“I brought your clothes.”
Smooth, Luce.

His chest rumbled as he glanced past her. “Where are they?”

Shoot. Concerned for him, she’d dropped the bag, and now she looked like a complete idiot. She spun, fleeing the bathroom before she made an even bigger fool of herself. Snatching the bag off the floor, she strode straight back to the bathroom and tossed it inside. Without bothering to peek into the room, she snared the handle and slammed the door.

That would teach him.

***

Sheng shook his head and chuckled. The aura of Lucy’s innocence had nothing to do with her virginity. She was different from the flashy, brazen women he usually dealt with. Hell, even Monkey boasted an ego the size of, well, Monkey’s head.

Everything about Lucy was sincere, not fake. Her Rabbit’s nature was timid, but Lucy was strong enough to never back down from him. To call him out on his shit in a way that made him want to be better. For
her
.

No woman had ever had that effect on him.

Maybe that’s what he got for fucking women who were one step up from prostitutes. Women who liked to party hard with rich guys. Who never got where he came from.

Where he still felt he belonged.

Sure, he had plenty of money now, thanks to the
Kongsi
, but he’d never forget the days when he’d gone hungry. When he’d gotten himself beaten up just so he could snatch the thug’s wallet while the asshole was distracted.

Would Lucy understand those things? He sighed into the warm spray. She might not have come from the streets like he did, but she hadn’t lived a pampered life. That was evident in everything about her. The way she carried herself. Her tell-tale awkward shifting as they’d eaten in that posh restaurant. Her total ignorance of the dirt and leaves in her hair after she’d burrowed into the ground while hiding in the Gardens. Even her lack of interest in the luxurious apartment her uncle provided for her. Last night, she’d curled up in the chair beside him, just because he’d asked her to.

Yep, Lucy was the furthest thing from high-maintenance he’d ever encountered.

She’s too good for you.

At the searing truth stinging his chest, he swallowed hard. Too good. Just like this apartment, these clothes, his padded wallet.

Even though he’d had to prove with every punch and kick, every rigorous test they’d put him through, that he belonged, that he was deserving of this great privilege, the truth burned a hole through him. They could strip it away. All of it. Sure, Tiger had chosen him. That didn’t mean fuck to the Council. If he didn’t play by their rules, they might off him and wait for Tiger to choose someone else.

Someone easier to manipulate. More obedient.

More worthy.

Run, lad. Run and never look back. Never tell anyone who you really are.
The old woman’s Mandarin words haunted his mind. After his family had died in the fire, encouraged by that woman, he’d fled. Never to look back.

He forced heated air through his lungs, fighting off the shell of insignificance threatening to choke him. He had nothing to fear so long as he did exactly what the Matchmaker and the other Elders told him to do.
Stay out of Lucy’s pants and focus on testing her. Until she proves to them she, too, is worthy.

He switched off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried off. His throat tightened, but he chugged down his trepidations. No, Lucy would be fine. She wasn’t the same as him. Nothing about her declared she wouldn’t be accepted like Ox, Rat, and Monkey had been.

Just the Rabbit.
No one expected Rabbit to lead the way during a battle. Hell, so long as Lucy didn’t get herself killed, her task was considered signed and complete.

Not so for Tiger. Everyone looked to Sheng to lead. Even more as the days went on and it appeared Dragon would be a no-show. He’d told himself—and Tiger—that Dragon had rejected them because of the host’s personal, shitty issues. But the longer they waited for Dragon’s new host, the harder the excuse became to swallow. In fact, it was fucking lodged in his throat.

After he dressed, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for the mask of confidence he needed to get through today. And every other bloody day.

Stepping into the hall, he sniffed to pick up Lucy’s scent and grimaced at the odor of burnt toast.

Chapter 15

Lucy leapt to the toaster in time to snatch the two slices of charred bread. Damn. She waved her hands in the air, hoping to disperse the acrid stench before Sheng detected it.

“
Mmm…
Smells great in here.”

Too late. She stiffened, whirling to spot him leaning against the wall, smirking.

“I can cook.” The argument huffed from her lips. “It’s this darn toaster. I turned my back for one minute and poof.” She held up the two hockey pucks as evidence.

He stalked toward her, grinning. “Might want to adjust the setting first.” He slipped behind her, making no effort to dance around her and, instead, pressed his body against hers as he flicked the switch from dark to light.

Her cheeks burned even hotter. That would have, indeed, been the obvious thing to do first, but she’d been more than a little distracted, daydreaming about his kiss.

“Why don’t you allow me?” Without giving her a chance to respond, he ushered her to the table beside the kitchen, plucked out a chair, and pushed on her shoulders, forcing her to sit. “Oyster omelet sound good?”

She barely managed a nod as she gawked at him. He rolled up his sleeves, winked at her then dug around in the fridge. None of her few boyfriends had ever cooked for her. Not that Sheng was her boyfriend…

Then again, what was he? She didn’t exactly grind against every attractive man who invited her to do so.

Stop putting labels on everything.
She hadn’t ventured here to lose her identity in a relationship.

Mom. Dad.

The reminder stung her chest. To forget about them, even for a minute, would be an enormous betrayal. Every smile or ounce of pleasure felt wrong when people continued to suffer. To die.

Her fists clenched in her lap. She’d handed Sheng the Rabbit last night and she was mostly confident she could do so again… Unless Rabbit had only peeked its nose out of its den because Tiger had been too injured to detect whatever Rabbit was hiding?

Man, she hoped not.

She shoved aside her insecurities. Time for Sheng to uphold his end of their bargain.

Give me the Rabbit and I’ll hand you justice.
His words vibrated inside her mind.

Her fingers twisted in her skirt. The blue and pink pattern of the
batik
fabric—a vibrant, floral cloth—reminded her of a dress her mother used to wear. “You made me a promise. Do you remember?”

He stopped whisking the contents inside the metal bowl in front of him. His hair fell into his eyes as he considered her. “I always keep my promises. I’ll take you to the Matchmaker myself. Today.”

Such conviction in his voice. She winced at how harsh her question had sounded. Of course he was a man of his word. Hadn’t she witnessed evidence of that already a hundred times? The man had honor in spades.

“Thank you.” Gratitude squeezed her throat. She cleared it and followed a different train of thought. “What happened last night? Who hurt you?”

Would they be coming back for an encore?

“Don’t concern yourself.” He shook his head and refocused on his whisking, dismissing the topic.

Oh, but she wasn’t finished yet. “I would like to know what happened. You came to me. If you didn’t want me to ask questions, you should have gone to someone else for help.”

“Would have undermined my purpose then,” he muttered, but her ears picked it up. Ever since she’d connected with Rabbit that first time, each of her senses had heightened.

“Undermined?” Her chair screeched across the tiles as she launched out of her seat. Getting up in his face, she demanded, “Undermined?”

When he didn’t respond, her brain connected the dots. Light-headedness overcame her and her blood pooled in her feet, planting them to the floor.

Sheng froze, his Adam’s apple stark against his thick throat as he swallowed.

He definitely hadn’t meant for her to hear that. Because he’d needed
her
to be the one to heal him.

“Tell me it isn’t true.” The conclusion rushed out of her mouth. “You did that to yourself?”

“Not exactly,” he hedged, pouring the batter into the frying pan on the stove.

While she waited for him to explain, she squeezed and released her hands repeatedly. He cracked the eggs into the batter, whisked the contents, and added in the oysters. Only after he finished cooking did he turn to her.

“That’s what you meant by ‘drastic measures?’ Hurting yourself?” She frowned and took a few steps back.
Done with him.
Whatever this was between them, it’d taken a death-dive into
unhealthy
.

“Lucy.” He gripped her arm, his jaw clenched, and he rolled out his words, hesitating. “It’s not like that. I only meant to get scraped up. I just didn’t anticipate how many—”

The image of Sheng jabbing a knife into his side smeared from her mind. Someone else had done this to him.

“Explain.” She shrugged off his arm, folding hers across her chest. If he were shorter, she’d stare down her nose at him. As it was, she craned her neck to glare at him.

“Well, technically, I did something I shouldn’t have. I didn’t have permission, even though I’d go back in a heartbeat and eradicate a few more of them.”

“Of who?”

“Not who, what.” The timer on the stove beeped, and he diverted his attention to their breakfast. “Go have a seat. I promise I’ll explain.”

Ushered by the low rumbling of her stomach, she did as he requested.

With him, apparently nothing was ever going to be what it seemed.

***

Sheng raked his hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant his confession to come out like that. Lucy didn’t know, but he’d been through this difficulty with spirits before. Monkey and Rat had joined him without too much fuss.

But Ox?

The stubborn ass had taken Sheng months—in Australia—to break down. Thousands of dollars spent on surfing equipment and at nightclubs while he’d gained the former player’s trust. No one would guess Kassian—who’d since taken vows of purity—had once spent his life partying. Hard.

And Chicken?

Don’t go there.
Agonizing about his worst failure would lead him back to the dark hellhole it’d taken him far too much strength to climb out of.

Snake and Boar, he couldn’t be blamed for. Both sides recognized what the divide between them would bring. They’d have to face off, someday, and the one left standing would seize victory.

In this moment, he couldn’t focus on the ones he didn’t have. Lucy was right in front of him. Rabbit had revealed itself last night, had healed him, and now he only had to prove Tiger’s dominance over the spirit animal to the Matchmaker.

“Who hurt you?”

He tensed at her quiet question and plated the rest of their food. “Demons. The Council hasn’t permitted us to hunt them in almost a decade, but we still do on occasion.” When provoked or cornered, but the Elders never condoned them stepping into Horse Face and Ox Head’s jurisdiction without cause. Like he did last night.

His brain continued to wrack through how to explain his “accidental” mass execution of the
yāoguài
in Ghee Hin territory.

“Demons. Like, real demons?”

“Yep. We call them
yāoguài
and they inhabit
Dìyù
—Hell. They’re evil spirits seeking immortality. Mostly through killing people.” He placed the two plates on the table and slumped into the chair next to hers.