Crouching Tiger, Forbidden Vampire (Love at Stake) (16 page)

“Really?” The second soldier exchanged a hopeful look with his comrades.

“We’ll leave right away.” The first soldier eased to his feet and handed Jia a ring of keys. “So you can unlock the boy’s cell.”

Russell released his grip on the soldier he’d been holding. The men grabbed the truck keys off the table and helped get the sleeping and unconscious guards up the stairs and out the door.

Jia gave Russell a worried look. “Should we trust them? What if this is a trap?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Russell drew his sword and eased open the other door. It led to a stair landing. No one in sight. He hurried down the stairs with Jia close behind.

“I can smell Han,” she whispered. “I think he lives down here.”

They moved quietly along a corridor lined with doors. At the end of the hallway, Jia paused in front of a heavy door. “This is Han’s room. His scent is strong here.”

Russell tried opening the door, but it was sealed shut. “He must teleport in and out.”

She leaned close, sniffing. “He’s not here now.”

“Let’s find the boy then.” Russell headed down a narrow flight of stairs.

The third floor below ground was dimly lit with only one tube of fluorescent lighting, which tended to flicker. The air was thick and stale, the stone floor coated with dust. The area wasn’t large. One wall was stone, with manacles fastened into it. Probably for chaining a prisoner to the wall for a good whipping. There were bloodstains on the wall and floor.

The opposite wall contained four small prison cells. They were dark, but Russell spotted something huddled against the back wall of the second cell.

“Xiao Fang?” He sheathed his sword, then put his hands on the bars. His skin sizzled, and he quickly let go. Silver. With a wince, he flexed his seared fingers. Han had put the boy in a silver cage to keep any Vamps from teleporting in or breaking through.

“Are you all right?” Jia asked.

“Yeah.” He reached in his pocket for some heavy gloves. “Unlock the door.”

Jia tried one key after another on the heavy padlock. “Xiao Fang, is that you? We’ve come to rescue you.”

As Russell slipped on his gloves, he saw the huddled mass straighten. It was the boy, standing at the back of the cave. “It’s all right,” Russell reassured him. “We’ll take you to Tiger Town. Neona is there. And Winifred. You can talk to her, right?”

The boy eased forward slowly. When he came into view, Russell winced at the bruises on the kid’s face. There was a cut along one of his cheekbones and dried blood on his swollen lips. The poor kid was probably afraid to trust them.

Jia unlocked the door and swung it open. The boy took a hesitant step forward.

She smiled at him. “I’m a shifter, too. A were-tiger. I teach martial arts, and one of my students really wanted to rescue you himself. His name is Norjee, and he calls you his brother.”

A wheezing sound escaped from Xiao Fang. He ran straight to Jia and wrapped his arms around her. She held him tight and looked up at Russell with tears in her eyes.

Russell’s heart expanded. He hadn’t known he could still feel this much joy. He tousled the boy’s hair. If only he’d rescued the boy a week ago when he’d had the chance. But he’d opted for revenge instead. He’d chosen hate over love. Never would he make that mistake again.

“How touching,” a muffled voice announced from the top of the stairs.

Russell spun around as he drew his sword. “Stay behind me,” he whispered to Jia and the boy.

Han stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in a red silk robe. The fluorescent light flickered off his golden mask and the golden sheath attached to his belt. “I’ve been waiting for you to find me, Russell.”

“You . . . know me?” Russell frowned. There was something familiar about the way Han said his name. And the golden sheath was at least a foot long. That had to be one badass dagger.

Han chuckled. “Of course I know you. You bear my mark. I chose you.”

“You left me to rot in a cave for thirty-nine years.”

Han waved a dismissive hand. “You didn’t rot. The other men did, but I was very careful with you.” He descended the stairs slowly. “I checked on you every three months. About once a year, I would feed you a few drops of my blood to keep you healthy.”

“Healthy? I was in a coma! For thirty-nine years.”

Han shook his head. “An insignificant amount of time when you can live forever. But I was quite shocked and disheartened when I discovered you were missing. After all, you belong to me.”

“Never,” Russell growled, lifting his sword. “I’m killing you tonight.”

Han shook his head. “There have been so many times when I could have killed you. Did you never wonder why I didn’t?” He paused on the bottom step. “When we took you and your foolish friends captive, I made sure no harm came to you. Even when you killed Lord Ming, I made no move to stop you.”

A sick feeling settled in Russell’s gut, but he ignored it. Han was just playing some sort of mind game. “You’re a bastard. You deserve to die.”

“Why? Because I have the balls to take over the world? You will rule the world with me, Russell. As my underling, of course, but still, it is your destiny to be by my side.”

The man was out of his mind. Russell flexed his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. If he charged at Han, the bastard would teleport away. He needed to trap him somehow. He could loop the silver chain around Han, or . . . a better idea came to mind.

“Xiao Fang.” Han motioned toward the jail cell. “Get back in your cage where you belong.”

Jia held tight to the boy. “He will not.”

Han walked toward them, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon. “You’re a gutsy woman, I’ll give you that.” He slid the dagger out with a soft, metallic scrape. “But I could teleport behind you in a second and slit your throat.”

With tears in his eyes, Xiao Fang pulled away from Jia and eased back toward the prison cell.

“No,” Jia whispered.

“You heard the master.” Russell sheathed his sword, then grasped the bars of the prison door with his gloved hands, opening it for the boy. “In you go.”

“What?” Jia gave him an incredulous look.

Xiao Fang backed away, his battered face crumbling with despair.

Han chuckled. “Excellent.”

With a mighty heave, Russell wrenched the prison door loose and zoomed toward Han, slamming the silver bars into him and pinning him against the wall.

Han cried out, dropping his dagger. His silk robe smoldered where the bars touched him. Smoke curled around the bars as the silk burned away and the silver sizzled against Han’s skin.

“You’re going to die,” Russell growled, pressing the prison door harder into Han. “You destroyed my life. I lost everyone I loved because of you.”

“Not everyone,” Han hissed. “Stop it, Russell.”

The way the bastard kept saying his name was infuriating. “Stop acting like you know me!” Russell reached up and ripped off the mask.

He froze. All breath was sucked out of him as he stared at the familiar face. No burns or scars. A face much like his own. The mask tumbled from Russell’s hand.

“Hey, bro,” Markos said in English. “Miss me?”

Russell stumbled back, the prison door falling to the floor with a clatter.

“I told you we belong together.” Markos looked down at his burned skin and winced. “I understand why you’ve been angry. We’ll just call it even now, okay?”

Russell shook his head, not believing what he was seeing and hearing.

“He’s not Asian?” Jia asked in Chinese. “Russell, what’s going on? Why aren’t you killing him?”

With an amused smirk, Markos answered her, “You expect him to kill his own brother?”

Jia gasped.

Russell glanced back at her. Her face had gone white with shock.

She pressed a trembling hand to her chest. “Your brother killed my family?”

Russell’s stomach twisted. Oh God, how could she ever forgive him? How could she ever look at him again?

“What is this?” Markos asked, watching him curiously. “You care about her?” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t expect to have competition for you.”

Russell gritted his teeth. “Leave her alone.”

“Or what?” Markos smirked as he pulled a second knife from his sleeve. “Can you really kill your brother?”

Russell drew his sword but hesitated, and in that second, Markos teleported behind Jia and plunged his knife into her chest.

“Game over!” Markos shoved her onto the ground. “I win. And you’re mine.”

With a roar, Russell charged, his sword aimed at his brother’s heart.

Markos teleported away.

Russell collapsed onto his knees in front of Jia. His head fell back and he screamed his rage to the heavens.

Chapter Seventeen

R
ussell pressed his hand against Jia’s wound, but the blood continued to seep out. Panic ignited inside him. “I’ll take you to Tiger Town. Neona can—”

“No,” Jia whispered, her eyes shut tightly against the pain. “You promised you would let—”

“I can’t let you die!”

Her eyes opened, and the desperation he saw there nearly killed him. “Take me home. To the cave. You promised.”

“I promised I would keep you safe, and I failed you.” Tears blurred his vision. “My brother killed your family. He’s killed you! How can you bear to look at me?”

She gripped his coat with her fist. “You have never failed me. Honor your promise. Take me . . .” Her hand fell limply to the ground.

“Jia!” He felt her neck. Her pulse was still there, but weak. She’d lost consciousness.

The boy was crouched beside them, his breaths coming in soft wheezes, tears streaming down his bruised face. Russell wasn’t sure what kind of terror the boy had survived, but he knew the kid shouldn’t be left alone, even for the few seconds it would take to teleport Jia to the cave. And he didn’t dare leave her alone. What if Han came back and chopped her into pieces like he did with her family?

Not Han, he corrected himself. Markos. His little brother was a mass murderer. Russell’s stomach roiled, and bile crept up his throat.

He swallowed hard, mentally pushing aside all thoughts of his brother. No time for it now. Jia needed him. So did Xiao Fang.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe now,” he assured the kid as he carefully picked Jia up. “I’m going to call Jin Long to come get you and take you to Winifred. We have to go to the surface for the phone to work. Can you follow me up the stairs?”

The boy nodded and jumped to his feet.

Russell went up the stairs, trying hard not to jostle Jia, while the boy followed close behind. They crossed the empty guardroom and ascended the last flight of stairs. The guards had left the door wide open in their hasty departure.

As they emerged from the cave, the boy pivoted, looking around nervously, as if he feared Han or Darafer would show up to ruin his escape.

After easing to his knees, Russell cradled Jia in his lap as he managed to remove his coat. He lay the coat on the ground, then placed Jia on top. She moaned.

“Stay strong,” he told her as he pulled the sat phone from his coat pocket.

“Come,” he said, motioning for Xiao Fang to follow him. He rounded a boulder, keeping Jia partially in sight as he punched in the number. Jin Long answered on the second ring.

“I need you here now!” Russell told him. “I have Xiao Fang with me. Hurry! We’re wait—”

J.L. materialized beside them and grinned when he saw the dragon shifter. “Thank God! Come on. I’ll take you to Winifred.”

Xiao Fang made a wheezing sound as more tears rolled down his cheeks. He surprised Russell by wrapping his arms around him and hugging him. Then he jumped at J.L., latching on to him.

J.L. patted the boy’s back. “Where’s Jia?”

Russell clenched his fists and kept his face blank. “Close by.”

“I smell blood.” J.L.’s eyes narrowed on Russell’s bloodstained clothes. “Did you fight with Han?”

Russell’s stomach threatened to heave. If the dragon shifter told Winifred everything that had happened, everyone would soon know who Han really was. And they would also know that Russell had failed in his promise to keep Jia safe. “Han escaped. Leave now before he comes back.”

J.L. nodded and teleported away, taking Xiao Fang with him.

Russell dashed back to Jia and gently took her into his arms. “Sweetheart, we’re going home now.”

He teleported to the bat cave and lay her on the bed. On the way to grab a stack of towels, he tossed his coat on the ground. It was coated with blood. Her clothes were drenched with blood. It made his fangs ache and his stomach churn with hunger. But with every hunger pang, his gut clenched with nausea. All this blood was a constant reminder of his guilt. He’d failed to protect Jia. She would die, murdered by his own brother.

He pressed one of the towels against her wound, and she moaned.

“Jia.” He brushed her hair away from her brow, then cursed himself for leaving a smear of blood on her face.

Her eyes flickered open. “Russell?”

“Yes.”

“You were right. It hurts to die.”

“I’m so sorry. I promised to protect you, and I—”

“No.” She reached a hand toward him, and he clasped it with his own. “You’re a good man.”

“I failed you. I hesitated—”

“That’s why you’re a good man. An evil man would not hesitate to kill his brother.”

He winced. “I can’t believe he . . . it makes me want to puke. How can you bear to look at—”

“Shh.” She squeezed his hand. “You are not your brother. You’re my . . . my partner. My cowboy.”

His phone buzzed. He glanced at his coat, where the phone rested in the pocket. “That’s probably Rajiv. He must know by now that you were stabbed. We should let him know—”

“No! Don’t answer it.” Jia coughed, and blood drizzled from her mouth.

He released her hand so he could wipe her face with a towel. “They’ll be frantic with worry.”

“Don’t answer. They’ll take me away. They’ll try to save me.”

“That’s what I should be doing.”

“You’re doing what I asked you to. Thank you.” She bit her lip. “There’s something I should tell you. When I wake up, I might behave . . . strangely.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I might . . .” She winced. “Whatever I do, please don’t let it bother you.”

He snorted. “I don’t care what you do as long as you come back.”

“I will come back.” She squeezed his hand. “And I’ll be stronger. Better than ever.”

Tears burned his eyes. “I think you’re perfect now.”

Her mouth curled up slightly with a smile before thinning again in pain. “I’m cold. Will you hold me?”

“Yes.” He stretched out beside her and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do for your pain.”

“Talk to me.” Her breathing grew more labored. “Tell me what it’s like to be a cowboy.”

He rubbed his chin against her hair. “It’s not as exciting as the movies. You work long hours. Even when the weather is bad. There’s never a day off.”

“You . . . didn’t like it?”

He paused a moment, thinking back on the days he’d spent riding alongside his father. The sun shining. The snowcapped mountains in the distance. “I loved it.”

“Maybe . . . you’ll have a ranch again someday.”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. How could he? He’d never see the sun again. Or his father. That was all in the past. And as for the future, he was finding it hard to imagine without Jia.

For three years, ever since he’d awakened undead, he’d thought his heart was dead. He’d thought he was incapable of any feeling but hate. He’d had no purpose for his existence other than revenge.

But somehow, in only a week, Jia had changed everything. He wanted a heart now so he could give it to her. He wanted to live so he could be with her. He wanted love instead of hate, joy instead of revenge.

But she wasn’t his. She never would be. Her future was with a prince.

His own future seemed suddenly bleak, and his newly awakened heart ached with despair. He might have to commit the ungodly crime of killing his own brother. If so, he would spend eternity with nothing but guilt to keep him company. Once Han was dead and the mission was over, Jia would leave. How could he live without her?

His phone started buzzing again. Rajiv wasn’t giving up. The poor guy had to know that his cousin was dying.

Jia stiffened slightly in his arms, then exhaled slowly.

He waited, his heart constricted with pain. Waited to hear another breath, but there was nothing.

“Jia.” He continued to hold her. Even though she was gone, he couldn’t let go. And now that she couldn’t hear him, he would say the words in his heart. He’d wanted to tell her earlier, but how could he, when her future was with someone else?

“Jia, I’m in love with you.”

T
en minutes later, Russell paced about the cave, growing increasingly anxious that Jia was still dead. He ignored the hunger pangs, ignored the gnaw in his gut about his brother. Instead, he chose to focus on Jia. How long would it take for her to wake up? He had no idea.

He did figure she wouldn’t enjoy waking up in a pool of blood. The smell was getting to him, too, as a constant, nauseating reminder of his failure, so he decided to take action. After warming up some water, he used a dampened towel to wipe her face. He removed her bloody tunic and tossed it on the ground.

Her silk camisole was soaked through. He lifted the hem enough to clean the wound on her rib cage. It was healing! Already the wound had sealed shut. He grinned with this new evidence that she was indeed progressing to her next life.

He slid one of his clean T-shirts over her head and far enough down to cover her breasts. Then he cut the camisole off and dropped it on top of her bloody tunic.

“I’m not peeking,” he told her as he slipped her arms into the sleeves. “I know you’re engaged to someone else.”

His extra-large T-shirt ended just above her knees. He reached underneath to pull off her bloody trousers and underwear. They ended up in the growing pile of soiled clothes on the ground. He washed her arms and legs, then shifted her so he could remove the top sleeping bag. It was stained with blood, but the bags underneath had remained clean.

“There. You’ll feel better now.” He covered her with a soft blanket.

A hunger pain shot through his stomach, nearly doubling him over. No matter how squeamish he felt, he needed to eat. He stumbled over to the ice chest, pulled out a bottle, and guzzled half of it down. In a few seconds, nausea struck. He ran into the river and heaved till his stomach was empty.

As the water current swept the blood away, he remained in the stream, hunched over with his hands resting on his knees. He panted for breath, too weak to move. Too overwhelmed to function.

His brother was Master Han. He’d tried not to think about it, but the truth was there, making his gut twist with despair. His brother had killed Jia and her family. For over forty years, his brother had ravaged southern China and surrounding countries, terrorizing and killing people.

“Markos.” He stumbled upstream and tossed fresh water on his face. “What happened to you?”

His mind raced, zipping through childhood memories, trying desperately to recall any indication that his brother would someday turn into an evil monster. Only two years younger, Markos had been the quiet, studious one. He’d been picked on a bit at school, but Russell had always been quick to punish any bullies. Everyone had soon learned that messing with Markos meant retaliation from the older brother.

Markos had tried to be more physical like Russell, who had been the quarterback on the high school football team. How Dad had loved that. He had never missed a game.

When Markos had tried football, he’d ended up injured in his first game. Cracked ribs and a severely sprained back. He’d had to wear a back brace for two months. And since he’d been unable to do his chores on the ranch, Russell’s workload had doubled. Had he complained too much? Made his brother feel bad?

He shook his head. He’d always suspected it had been Markos’s reliance on pain pills that had gotten him into trouble with drugs. But Markos had recovered. All kids had their share of problems growing up. They didn’t turn into evil vampire warlords. What had happened to Markos? Had the war in Vietnam damaged him beyond repair? Or had becoming a vampire traumatized him? Had he gone crazy with his newfound strength and superpowers?

And what was Russell to do? Would he have to kill his brother? If Markos attacked Tiger Town with his army, there would be plenty of people trying to kill him. The job could be left to Angus or any of his employees. But what if Markos killed one of them? What if he killed Zoltan or Howard? Both those guys had wives who were expecting. Or Markos might kill some of Jia’s friends or family.

Russell groaned. Markos was his brother. He had to take responsibility. His brother had to be stopped before he could kill anyone else.

With his decision made, Russell trudged toward the table, where he’d left the half-empty bottle of blood. He warmed it up in the microwave, then tried sipping it slowly. It stayed down.

He stripped down to his underwear, then, using rocks, he anchored his dirty clothes in the stream. The rushing current would wash away most of the blood. He emptied the pockets of his coat and anchored it in the stream, too. Then he gathered up Jia’s bloody clothes and the soiled sleeping bag. He couldn’t leave them here or aboveground, where the scent would attract predators. So he teleported to another cave hundreds of miles away.

He dropped the bloody load, then looked around. This was the cave where Wu Shen had once taken him, J.L., Howard, Gregori, and Abigail Tucker prisoner. It was here that he’d met Darafer and the three vampire lords. And Master Han.

Han—short for Hankelburg? Russell recalled how the vampire lords had wanted to kill them. Master Han had stiffened after seeing Russell. Shock at seeing his brother on the opposing team? Han had quickly announced that Russell bore his mark. He’d kept his brother alive.

Russell sighed. He didn’t see how he could do the same. Most probably, Markos would have to die.

After teleporting back home, Russell showered and put on clean clothes. Jia was still dead. He looked at the clock on the microwave. Twenty-five minutes had passed.

He warmed up more blood and took small sips. His strength was coming back. But what about Jia? She’d lost so much blood. Wouldn’t she be weak when she woke up? She would need some good food.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, then grabbed a tote bag and teleported to the kitchen in Zoltan’s castle.

What would be quick but healthy? He examined the contents of the refrigerator and spotted a Ziploc bag of sliced ham. He grabbed it and a package of sliced cheese. He tossed them into the tote bag, then stepped into the pantry. A loaf of bread, a bag of chips, some bananas, a jar of mixed nuts.