Jade Tiger (12 page)

"Sifu," Shan said, "how many of us are left?"

Xia shook her head. "I know what you know. Nothing. When Lin-Yao entrusted me with the dragon, I did not ask questions. I simply fled."

Shan heard something in Xia's voice. Guilt, if her own emotions were any clue. If they had all stayed and defended the sanctuary, would it still be standing? Would her mother still be alive?

Shan lost her taste for the conversation--and for her first-class soy-glazed salmon with rice pilaf.

"I would be honored if you would teach at my school, Sifu," Shan said. "The advanced students, of course."

"I prefer the beginners," Xia said, clearly as eager to leave their discussion of fallen comrades as Shan.

"I'm not sure the beginners are...ready for you, Sifu. Things are very different in the States."

Xia harrumphed and turned her back to Shan, presumably to look out the window. Only it was night. Shan took the hint and went back to playing with her food. If only she'd brought a book, or had even thought to buy a notebook and pen at the airport. Some day, Shan intended to make a record of all the Jade Circle techniques, forms, and philosophical teachings. If she and Xia died, the knowledge would be lost forever. Living artifacts, that's what they were. Suddenly, Shan felt far more tired than her twenty-eight years deserved.

They arrived at the airport in Los Angeles rumpled and exhausted from a day of inaction. The woman at the customs counter gave Shan some trouble about the jade crane, but ultimately let her pass. Within a half an hour, they were outside and waiting for Lydia at LAX's Bradley International terminal.

"So this is L.A.," said Ian. One side of Ian's hair was matted down from his long nap on the plane. Shan longed to scruffle it back to life.

"Smart boy," groused Xia. Her English wasn't nearly as good as her Mandarin and her French, but she managed.

"L.A.'s probably not going to wow you with its beauty," Shan said, ignoring Xia. "But it has an energy that I love. And an incredibly diverse population."

Xia grunted, but said nothing.

They waited almost thirty minutes before Shan began to worry. She left another message on Lydia's cell phone.

"Do you think something's happened?" Ian asked.

"I don't know," Shan said, "but we're sure as hell going to find out." Lydia, just twenty-one and already a dot-com millionaire, had a blindingly bright future ahead of her. If something happened to her...

"Taxi!"

Shan could barely sit still on the long ride back to the Valley. She tried to stretch a little in back of the taxi, but her muscles complained instantly. It wouldn't be safe to continue stretching until she had a chance to warm up and get the blood flowing through her system.

"Lydia's a martial artist, right?" said Ian. "She should be able to take care of herself." He sat in the front with the driver. Xia sat next to Shan, watching the world go by out the window.

"She's only been studying two, maybe three years," Shan said. "She can definitely defend herself from the run-of-the-mill mugger or aggressive date, but a trained killer like One-eye..."

"Right," Ian said. He pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the taxi cab driver. "And I'll pay for any tickets."

The driver grinned and hit the accelerator. Shan considered herself lucky if she could hit forty-five on any of the major highways during an L.A. rush hour, but this guy was good. He bobbed and weaved through the lines of traffic like a boxer in the ring.

"One-eye doesn't know where you live, does he?" Ian said.

Shan shook her head. "I certainly didn't tell him. But he and his boss managed to find the Fortiers in Chamonix and our sister Chen Sun in Moscow. I'm not sure what to think now."

"I will kill this man," Xia said, still looking out the window. "It's been a long time since I have killed one of them. My body aches to remember."

Ian shot a quick glance at the taxi driver, but the man kept his expression blank and his eyes on the road. Shan stared at her old teacher, both surprised and not surprised. Xia's pain ran deep, and in China, many of the women had killed to protect the sanctuary and themselves. But Shan had left that world and entered one where killing was called murder and people didn't talk about it like that.

But One-eye...

Shan gritted her teeth. "The man must definitely die, Sifu. Whichever of us has the opportunity first should take it."

"Agreed," Xia said.

Shan looked up at Ian in the front seat, but Ian's gaze was forward and his expression as blank as the driver's.

The Way of the River sat in Studio City, south of the 101, against the hill that separated the San Fernando Valley from the main part of Los Angeles. Originally a home, Lydia had pulled some strings and gotten the place rezoned for commercial use. Shan and Lydia lived upstairs in two of the bedrooms, and one of their students--Pauline--took the third. They kept the fourth bedroom available for guests.

Downstairs, they'd opened up most of the house into a great room with glowing hardwood floors. Raised ceilings allowed for weapon practice. They had a section with mats for falling and rolling, and mirrors along one wall. A small, formal office sat up front, but Shan did most of her practicing and meditating in the large, private sanctuary room in the back where she kept the jade tiger.

Behind the house, Lydia had paid landscapers to install a hot tub and a cool dip pool amid some tall shade trees, wildflowers, and the occasional stone shrine.

To Shan, it was even more beautiful than the Jade Circle sanctuary. That place had been built in a land of legend, tucked into a lush landscape of ancient trees and fresh soil. Simple and welcoming, it had reflected the beauty around it.

But in Los Angeles, the sky was forever dulled by pollution, and everything that tried to live here had a permanently parched look. Hot. Dry. Unchanging. The school's beauty had no choice but to come from within. Shan had dreamed it, and Lydia had made it real with her dot-com wealth. Its power and tranquility spilled out into the land nearby, creating an aura of life within a backdrop of desolation.

Shan told the driver to let them off a few hundred feet away from the school, along with their luggage. They approached slowly, listening.

"Lydia's car." Shan pointed to an apple-red Jetta parked in the driveway. So it wasn't an accident that kept Lydia from picking them up. Though an accident would probably be less dangerous than dealing with whomever One-eye had sent after her.

No, not Lydia too, Shan thought. Please, not Lydia. Shan could feel her skin tingling from her growing energy and the rush of adrenaline. Xia's eyes seemed brighter, too. Shan would have to watch her carefully. After what happened at the Fortier's and with Chen Sun, she guessed that Xia was craving blood. Shan didn't have a problem with that, as long as it wasn't Lydia's or Ian's by accident.

Something smashed on the second floor near Lydia's room.

"Ian, stay here and look for anyone trying to escape," Shan whispered. "Sifu, can you get onto the roof near that second window on the corner?"

Xia grunted indignantly.

"Right," Shan said. "I'll go in the front and up the stairs. We should be able to keep whoever it is trapped." She looked at Xia. "Lydia is about my height, with blonde hair and freckles." Don't hurt her, she added silently, knowing that Xia would chafe under such a direct order.

"Let's go."

Xia ran to the side of the building and started to climb. Shan had no idea how the old woman was finding hand and foot holds on such an apparently sheer face, but she didn't have time to find out. Shan pressed her body against the front door and turned the handle gently. It opened. Frowning, Shan pulled the door open and walked softly inside. Light filtered in through the many windows. It reflected off the mirrored wall, the hardwood floors, and the spears and broadswords on the weapons rack. A light breeze rippled the hanging scrolls on the far wall and tickled the large bamboo chimes dangling from the awning out back. Shan's heart gave a little leap of joy, but she didn't allow herself to linger.

She crept quickly up the stairs. Lydia's door was closed, but Shan heard a series of thumps coming from inside. And then, suddenly, the sound of the window smashing and a woman's scream.

Shan threw herself against the door, but it was locked. She took a quick step back and kicked it just under the knob with her heel. It burst open.

Xia stood over a prone man and punched him repeatedly in the face. Shan's jaw dropped.

The man was Buckley.

Buckley was nude.

Lydia stood in the corner, clearly dazed.

And also nude.

The bed was rumpled. Dishes and wine glasses lay scattered on the floor. Buckley and Lydia were nude. The room smelled of--

"Sifu, stop!" Shan yelled. "Stop!"

Xia didn't hear, or didn't want to hear, because she continued whipping punches into Buckley's face. Shan jumped across the bed and tried to pull her off. Xia fought back, elbowing Shan in the ribs and trying to stomp her foot when she got close. But the old woman's eyes never left Buckley. Her mouth contorted into a terrible grin as punched him again and again.

"Xia! Stop!" Shan grabbed Xia harder this time and forced her back, away from Buckley's bloodied face. "Stop, I said!"

Xia stopped struggling and shook off Shan's grip. She looked around the room. Her gaze fell on Lydia, still panting in the corner, and she seemed to regain her focus. "The girl," she said. "He was--"

"I know," said Shan. "You were trying to help her."

Xia nodded dully, her typical irritated expression replaced by one of surprise and fear.

Ian appeared in the doorway. "Bucks," he said weakly.

Buckley groaned, but appeared to be unconscious. A good choice, in Shan's opinion. He was going to have one hell of a headache when he woke up.

"Ian, will you please take Xia downstairs and make her some tea?"

Ian gulped and pulled his gaze away from his bloody friend. Shan noticed how carefully he avoided looking into Lydia's corner as he did so.

"I'd be glad to," he said. Shan walked Xia over to the door. Ian didn't touch Xia, but motioned for her to precede him into the hallway. She went without a grunt or a foul word. And without looking back.

Shan shut the door behind them.

"Lydia, put your clothes on."

But Lydia just stood there, naked and staring at her lover on the floor. Shan walked in front of her, breaking her line of sight. "Lydia," she said again.

The girl--the woman, Shan corrected--finally looked up at her. "The blood...it's so red," Lydia croaked. "It's going to stain."

"Shhh," Shan said. She pulled Lydia into a hug and felt her friend's answering sobs against her shoulder. Shan held her there for a moment, then carefully separated herself.

"Lydia," Shan said, "you need to focus. Think about your last form, Shadow of a Snake. Remember? You're almost done learning it."

Lydia nodded, her forehead crinkling. "Yes...yes, I remember."

"Good," said Shan. "I want you to think about that form as you get dressed. I'm going to want to see it in a minute, to see how you're coming along with it."

Lydia nodded and took a deep breath. Good, Shan thought. Breathing was the most important part. She watched as Lydia picked up her underwear from the floor and started to pull it on.

"Excellent," Shan said. And to think, she was just telling Ian how well Lydia was coming along in her martial arts, then Lydia completely froze when attacked by a sixty-year-old woman.

Admittedly, Lydia had probably been a bit distracted when the attack occurred, but still. It wasn't good. Shan wasn't teaching her well enough. Or the right things. Or both.

Lydia dressed herself as Shan knelt down and examined Buckley. At least from the neck up. She had no desire to examine him anywhere else in his current state.

Broken nose, definitely. Probably in several places. They'd have to take him the hospital, unless he wanted to live with that "lifetime of boxing" look. She rolled his head to the side and checked his mouth. He wasn't choking on blood or his own tongue, though it was certainly a mess in there. Shan was surprised that he hadn't lost a tooth. Or six. Xia was small, but that hardly mattered when she was channeling chi into her fist and fueling it with blind hate.

No, it was definitely a good thing that Xia wasn't going to the Ashton auction next week.

She hated to do it, but Shan wanted Buckley awake. Even with Ian's help, she doubted they'd be able to haul him to the hospital while he remained unconscious. Shan made a fist with her right hand and raised the knuckle of her middle finger above the others into a position her mother had called "the eye of the phoenix." Cringing, she took her modified fist and pressed the raised knuckle against the base of Buckley's broken nose.

He groaned. A nerve bundle sat just beneath the skin at that point. Apply enough pressure, and the resulting pain sent the brain a big wake-up call. Like this one, Shan thought. She pushed harder and Buckley sputtered awake. He blinked furiously and tried to pull himself away from her.

"Buckley, it's me. It's Shan. Everything's fine now." She touched his arm with her hand and calmed his chi with her own.

"But everything's not fine," said Lydia from behind her. "That evil woman just tried to kill my fiancé!"

"It's just so...sudden," Shan said carefully. She and Lydia sat on a bench under the great weeping willow in the back. Ian was off to the emergency room with Buckley, and Shan had sequestered Xia in the guest bedroom upstairs until she could settle everyone down.

"I know," Lydia said, twirling a plucked daisy between her fingers, "but I love him so much. I don't want to live without him."

Shan bit her tongue. She wanted to say, "You're too young," "It's too fast," and "Good god, girl, it's
Buckley
!" But she knew what sort of response those would elicit from Lydia. And with good reason. Shan was only seven years older than her student, and in many ways beholden to Lydia. She had no right to treat Lydia like her daughter. Instead, she needed to walk the fine line of friend and older sister.

"He wants to join us," Lydia continued, "join the Jade Circle. He wants to live here with me--with us--and study martial arts and have a family." Lydia smiled as she spoke, barely able to contain her happiness.

"He's a professor at a university, Lydia, and an archaeologist--"

"I know! Isn't that exciting? Isn't it sexy?"

Shan had a hard time arguing with that.

"But he's a professor in
New York State
..."

"We already talked about that," Lydia said. "He's going to finish the year and move here. He can live here while he's looking for a position at UCLA or USC." Lydia looked into Shan's face, grinning. "We both want three kids, Shan. And two dogs! It's almost too good to be true."

"Almost," Shan muttered.

"Of course, we can't get married before his nose heals," Lydia continued. "That would ruin all the pictures."

Who was this person? The Lydia that Shan knew was a quiet, geeky woman who worked hard and stayed home on Friday nights. She hadn't even dated since the men had attacked her in the parking lot the night Shan rescued her.

Shan covered her face with her hand. She had told Lydia stories of the Jade Circle, and had fooled herself into thinking that Lydia shared Shan's dreams for the future. But the person Shan had met three years ago had been a scared little girl, and the person sitting next to her now was a woman. A woman who deserved to make her own decisions and her own mistakes.

Even if they involved Buckley.

"How long is that woman staying here?" Lydia asked, her voice cold. She stopped twirling her flower and began plucking off its petals. Viciously.

"She's never leaving," Shan said, "at least, if she takes me up on the offer to stay."

"You're joking."

"Not even a little."

"Shan, that woman cannot stay in the same house as Daniel and I. Not after what she did to him."

Shan didn't like the look in Lydia's eyes. She'd only seen in one time before--when she'd taken Lydia down to the police station to identify her attackers.

"Lydia, she's all I have left of the Jade Circle," Shan said quietly. "She has been without a home for so long--I want to share this one with her. I want it to be her home, too."

Lydia turned away from Shan, hiding her face behind a sheet of thin blonde hair. "I don't know if I can do it, Sifu. This is my house, and..."

And you own it, Shan thought. Lydia had never held that over Shan's head before, but she always feared the time would come. She'd just been hoping it would come much later, when Shan had some money of her own.

"If Xia goes, I go too," Shan said. "It's not an ultimatum. I'll still be your friend, and I'll teach you if you want, but I won't stay here without her."

Shan stood up and walked back into the house.

And found Xia in the main room, practicing. The old woman had donned an extra set of workout clothes from the upstairs closet, a pair of loose black pants and a thin black sweatshirt with a white stripe down the sleeves. Shan watched her leap, kick, and drop into a crane stance.

When Xia had finished the form, Shan said, "I don't know that one."

"I know."

Xia brought herself into the starting position, her feet together, her right fist pressed against her left palm, and waited.

Shan hesitated. She needed to buy supplies for the trip to the Ashton thing. She needed to clean the glass out of Lydia's room. And she needed to figure out how she was going to leave Xia, Lydia, and Buckley alone in the house while she and Ian were gone.

But it had been almost fifteen years since she'd had a chance to learn something new from the Jade Circle, or from Xia. And she had certainly been neglecting her training since this whole thing started. A little physical activity would give her mind and body a respite from the real world, at least for a while.

Shan walked into the room and stood a few feet from Xia. "I'm ready, Sifu."

They worked for almost an hour. By the end, Xia was correcting just small things--the angle of Shan's hand when she was spearing her imaginary opponent's throat, the timing of her foot as it arced toward her opponent's head. Sweat slid down Shan's face, cooling her skin with each breeze that swept through the house.

"Good," Xia said. "Ten more times."

Shan nodded and began again. Her sleeves and pant legs snapped in the air as she moved. The new form--"Shrine on the Mountain," Xia called it--had seemed awkward at first. Now, as her body learned the movements, requiring less of her brain, she began to understand its power. A hundred more times, five hundred more times, and she would be able to harness its lessons in a fight.

Afterward, they stood near the front of the school and drank from the water cooler. Shan needed a shower, but not just yet.

"Sifu, I want you to teach here," Shan said. "I thought I was ready to teach, but now...I just don't know."

Xia reached up and tugged on Shan's chin so she could look Shan in the eyes.

"I see the tiger, child. I see its claws deep in you." Xia's voice, raspy and low, had an almost sad quality to it while she spoke. "The tiger has little patience for all but the hunt. That you have done so much against its will speaks highly of your strength, Song Shan."

Shan tried to pull her head away, to avert her gaze, but Xia held her there with a grip of iron.

"You struggle with the tiger spirit, but now is not the time." Something flickered in Xia's eyes. "Your prey is before you, child. Use the tiger; let the tiger use you. Do not fight the ancient forces that want only the same thing you want."

"But Sifu, what about the balance? The five animals exist together, yet for so long now I have only felt the tiger."

Xia smiled, and the vicious scar running across her cheek curled up at its edge. "You were young when you studied at the Jade Circle, Song Shan. We did not complete your training."

"Then finish it now," Shan said.
Finish it before I throw myself and Ian into even more danger next week
, she added silently. "I will study as hard as I need to."

Xia shook her head. "It's not a matter of study, child. It's a matter of understanding. You have not fully grasped the power of the jade animals."

"Sifu, please," Shan said, her voice almost as tired as she suddenly felt.

"You will find the knowledge when you need to find it," Xia said. "That is how it works for all of us."

Shan pulled away from her teacher. Her sweaty clothes chafed her skin. "I'm too old for riddles, Sifu. Don't treat me like a child."

"For once, Song Shan, I am not treating you like a child," Xia said. The old woman cocked her head to the side like a dog. "I hear the men. I'm going up to shower."

Shan watched Xia bow as she left the room and climbed the stairs toward the bathrooms. As she vanished from Shan's sight, the front door opened, and Buckley walked in with a freshly taped nose.

"Lydia!"

From the backyard, Lydia squealed and ran into the house, pausing only to remove her shoes before running across the hardwood floors and into her lover's arms. Buckley grinned and caught her as she leaped. He spun her around, kissing her the whole while.

Ian stepped around Lydia's spinning limbs and smiled at Shan. He looked tired, as if this last stint at the hospital had finally succeeded in draining his energy, even after all they'd been through. Of course, it could have been the jetlag, or just six hours alone with Buckley that had done it. Whatever it was, his eyes warmed as he looked at her and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn khakis.

"Looks like I'm going to be a best man," he said, grinning.

You already are
, Shan thought, but all she managed to say was, "Congratulations."

Later, they all sat around the chunky wood table in the kitchen and ate take-out. Shan put Xia on the end, far enough from Buckley and Lydia that she'd be able to intervene if something started, though Shan suspected that Xia could probably skewer Buckley between the eyes with a chopstick if she really wanted to. Missile weapons had always been a forte of Xia's.

Ian sat opposite Shan, his long legs accidentally brushing hers under the table every time he adjusted his posture. Which was surprisingly often, but still not often enough for Shan's tastes. Apparently she'd regressed back to a high school mentality when she'd met Ian, and footsy had once again become a viable distraction at the dinner table. Not that she was complaining.

"The orange chicken is good," Ian said, breaking the silence. Xia grunted but kept eating.

"Not as good as the stuff from that place in Collegetown," said Buckley, "but almost." He picked up a piece of shrimp from his plate and offered it to Lydia. She leaned forward and bit it, never taking her eyes off of her fiancé.

Fiancé.

Fiancé.

No, it just didn't sound right attached to a man like Buckley. But Ian had said Buckley had sounded sincere when they discussed it at the hospital. Buckley claimed that Lydia was just the sort of change he needed in his life. A bright star showing him a better path, or something like that. Ian seemed as shocked as Shan by the news, but was certainly hiding it better.

"Have you picked a date?" Shan asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Well, we don't want to rush anything," Lydia said immediately, "so we're definitely going to wait until you get back from that thing next week." She beamed at Buckley. Buckley scooped another fist-sized helping of fried rice into his mouth and then smiled back.

"Speaking of that thing," Shan said, happy to change the topic, "I need to go shopping for a few items, and I was hoping you'd join me, Lydia."

"What kind of things?"

Shan ran down her mental list. "Some dressy shoes that I can either fight in or kick off quickly. Accessories for the fancy dresses I picked up in England. And a wig."

"A wig? What color?" said Buckley. "And please say red. Oh god, let it be red." His gaze roamed freely over her body. Shan was suddenly worried that she, not Xia, would leap across the table and throttle him.

One look at Ian, and Shan saw that the thought was crossing his mind, too.

"Oh, stop," grinned Lydia. "He has a thing for redheads," she told Shan, "but I'm not dying my hair. I put my foot down."

"That's right," said Ian. "Good ol' Bucks here has dated a lot of redheads in his day. Sometimes more than one at a time."

Lydia wagged a finger at Ian. "You're not going to get me that easily. Daniel told me all about his sordid past."

"He did? Then you're braver than I thought," Ian countered.

"Very funny, Dash," said Buckley. "Now pass the soy sauce and shut the hell up."

Xia grunted, but, much to Shan's delight, continued to say nothing.

Lydia turned back to Shan. "So, yes, I'd be happy to go shopping with you. And, if we go to the mall, I can show you the bridesmaid dresses I'm considering."

Shan smiled and tried not to choke on her spicy chicken.

The next day, they shopped. Shan found a medium-short blonde wig that didn't look terrible with all her black hair hidden beneath it. With her green eyes, she'd easily be able to pass as a Caucasian at the party, especially when she was draped on Ian's arm.

Mmm. Ian in a tuxedo. Shan let herself study the sleek image that suddenly sprang into her mind. She'd always been a fan of the comfortable clothing favored by the Chinese, but the inventor of the tuxedo had been a genius, Western or not.

The shoe situation proved more challenging, but ultimately resulted in an assortment of low heels and slinky boots. Shan hated wearing heels, but, with a well-placed kick to the chin, it was pretty easy to drive the two-inch spike into someone's throat. Which would be your only option, Shan thought, since you'd kill yourself if you tried to run away in the damn things.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

Shan and Lydia grabbed sandwiches at a mall shop and chatted more about Buckley and the wedding. Shan's objections were definitely starting to dissolve in the wake of Lydia's enthusiasm. The girl glowed from head to foot whenever she talked about it. Shan found herself grinning and smiling and actually feeling good about the whole thing. They talked about closing the school during Lydia's honeymoon and whether or not Buckley would make a good martial artist. Neither of them mentioned Xia, which was just as well. Shan had no desire to ruin such a relaxing afternoon.

But Ian apparently did.

When Shan and Lydia returned, they found Ian at home behind the computer in the front office, busily printing out reams of pages from the Internet.

"Ashton's half Chinese," Ian said as they walked in.

"Hello to you, too," Lydia snorted.

"Really?" said Shan. She dropped her bags on the floor and pulled one of the guest chairs over to Ian's side of the desk. "What else did you find out?"

Ian frowned. "Well, not that much, actually. Ashton stays out of the media, but does a lot with his money. Like sponsoring fighters in the Ultimate Fighting Championships, and funding some research in various parts of the world."

"The UFC. Ugh." A lot of martial arts schools trained their students to fight in that blood bowl. Shan despised it. Martial arts exhibitions were great--a fun way to introduce people to the art. But no-rules fighting for sport as they did in the UFC sickened her. "Did you find any schematics of Ashton's house?"