Dragon Gate (8 page)

“What about Kelly?”

“She’s on it.”

“You know which way he went?”

“Shit.”

“Just a second. I’ll check with Kelly.” She popped away.

I raced down the stairs and out the door. As I approached the gate, Esther popped back to me.

“Go right. He’s on the bike path heading north. Just be aware that Kelly says she doesn’t need you. She’s got it under control.”

“But Graham doesn’t know she’s there. He needs to know he can’t go running off like this.”

Esther sighed. “Don’t yell at him too much when you catch up. I want to be able to stay in this house for a while. It’s got a style to which I’d love to become accustomed.”

Being dead might interfere with that style, but far be it from me to say that to Esther.

Instead, I gave her a wink then slipped out the gate and turned right. Two blocks down, I saw a dirt trail leading up to the paved bike path. I raced up the incline and made good time racing down the trail. Two minutes later, Kelly slipped out of the trees to join me on the path.

“I told Esther you didn’t need to come,” she said, matching my speed.

I ran at a fast clip, but Kelly kept pace as if it were nothing. “Yes, I did. He needs to know—”

“Nothing,” Kelly said as she grabbed me and made me slow down. “I’ll keep him safe. You’ll just piss him off, and he’ll tell us to go home.”

She had a point, but I wasn’t ready to relinquish it. “In order to protect them, we need to have control over where they go and when they go there.”

“That’s not true. Go back to the house. Take a shower. Your hair is trying to get a starring role on a TV sitcom.”

“You don’t like it? It’s the latest style.”

“Right. Go eat breakfast. There’s a good chance Graham doesn’t need to know anyone is following him. Let him think he’s pulled a fast one. That way we can get paid and we can keep him and his sister alive. He might complicate the job, but I can easily keep tabs on him, and I can handle any danger he might encounter.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“You should be used to that by now.” She grinned and slipped back into the trees.

I stopped and listened for her movements, but all was silent. How did she do that? I couldn’t see Graham up ahead either, but I knew Kelly would stay close enough to him that everything would be fine.

It’s not like the Marshall Clan had a sniper on the payroll.

I jogged back toward the house, enjoying the cool morning air. I found myself wondering if Rayna was awake yet. Pieces of my nightmare crept back into my mind, and I saw an arrow pierce her chest, but I reeled the image backward like a film playing in reverse. When I let it start forward again, I caught the arrow and snapped it in two. I would keep her alive, and to do so, I needed to be in the right frame of mind. No room for doubt. I anchored that positive image in my mind as if that would automatically keep her safe. I knew that wasn’t the case, but I also knew that operating from a position of confidence limited the mistakes. The fewer mistakes, the more likely I could protect her.

GRAHAM NOBLE

Graham loved his morning runs. He thought of them as his daily hour of power, something he’d picked up from listening to a Tony Robbins CD set about getting the edge. When Graham first came to this world, he had trouble fitting in. There was so much to learn. Fortunately there wasn’t a language barrier because, while there were changes to the language—slang and turns of phrase—most of it had bled across the veil or had been taken there by his ancestors. As for the slang, he mastered that quickly thanks to television and movies. To the casual observer, he seemed like a normal person. Normal was relative, of course, but he cultivated that image.

He also cultivated an attitude of normalcy. Attitude was sometimes tough to maintain. At first, things were so different. He’d grown up with horses and nature. This place had shopping malls and cars. The culture shock messed with his image. He’d been a master of his old domain, but this place was so strange, it nearly defeated him. When he was twelve, he discovered the Tarzan books by Edgar Rice Burroughs. John Clayton, Earl Greystoke, was master of the jungle, and he mastered the city too. Graham wanted to be like Greystoke.

Then late one night, he saw infomercials about gym equipment for the home to get in shape and workout routine DVDs you could order and motivational speakers who claimed they could help you master every aspect of your life. Of course, Graham knew it was all about what you brought to the table with you.

Graham brought everything to that table.

He listened to the steady slapping of his running shoes on the pavement. He kept his breathing in check. He could run for hours, but he kept himself to his standard route, which would be nine miles. No need to push himself.

When he rounded the next curve, he saw Thomas Marshall standing in the center of the path, sword in hand.

“Good morning, Graham.”

The rest of the clan stood behind their father.

Graham slowed and stopped well out of range of the sword. He realized he should have altered his routine. The Marshalls were expert trackers. If he’d gone the other way, he’d have been able to simply enjoy his run. Now he wasn’t sure what he could do. He realized this was a domain he had not mastered.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon, Thomas.” Graham glanced behind himself, but the path was clear. The danger was only in front. He considered running but that would be cowardly. Graham was not a coward.

“We don’t like this world,” Thomas said. “One of those rolling metal contraptions nearly ran me down this morning. I figured, why wait? We’ll kill you, your sister, and your uncle’s family today so we can go home.”

“There’s no need for this.”

“Will you face death with honor?” Thomas asked.

Graham sighed and looked at the men behind Thomas. They used to be his friends. Honor dictated that he not fight back. He was clearly in the wrong here. He’d supported Lucas. Lives were lost. Fleeing only proved his guilt and cowardice. To maintain honor was more important than anything else. He nodded to Thomas and met the eyes of his former friends each in turn. None of them turned away. They all stared at him without compassion.

“Honor is everything,” Graham whispered and dropped to his knees. He lowered his head, exposing his neck but thinking he should fight back. He didn’t have to take this. He wasn’t bound by the old ways anymore; he could change the outcome. He looked up at Thomas. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Thomas stepped forward and raised his sword. “Honor means silently accepting your fate, Graham. It doesn’t mean pleading for your life like a woman.”

Kelly Chan stepped out of the trees, startling everyone. “Pleading like a woman?” she asked.

Thomas glared at her. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Am I supposed to go home and fix breakfast for all the big, strong men in my life?” she asked as she approached.

Graham noticed that she was empty handed.

“Go away, Ms. Chan. They want only me, but if you interfere, they’ll kill you too.”

Kelly ignored him and stepped right up to Thomas. “That blade looks awfully sharp. Someone could get hurt.”

“Back up or I’ll cut you down, woman.”

“You’d stab a poor, defenseless female? Really?” She opened her arms, presenting an easy target. “Show me how a real man handles a sword.”

“As you wish.” He drove the sword into her chest.

Graham saw the blade punch right through her.

“You dick,” Kelly said. “This is a new shirt!”

Thomas Marshall’s eyes widened, and Graham saw fear creep across his features. “What witchcraft is this?” Thomas tried to pull the sword free.

Kelly slapped him across the face so hard, she knocked him off his feet. She turned to the men and smiled as she gripped the sword, drew it from her chest, and whipped it around, flinging blood at them.

“Hi, boys. Anyone care to dance?”

Thomas pointed at her. “Kill her!”

The eldest son, Jacob, stepped forward, drawing a blade. “I’ll cross swords with you. Devil or not, I’ll have your head!”

Kelly tossed the sword to the ground and leaned forward. She swept her hair away from her neck. Graham couldn’t understand why she’d throw away a perfectly good weapon.

Kelly smiled at Jacob. “Let me see if I have this right. You have a silly no-fighting-back code where you accept death with honor. I’ll play but I’m not going to kneel before you. Take your best shot.”

Jacob swung the sword at her neck, but at the last instant, Kelly’s hands flashed up and caught the blade between her palms. “On second thought, maybe I won’t play by your rules. Fights are only fun if both parties are actually in the battle.”

Jacob tried to pull the sword free. Kelly smiled at him and slowly twisted the sword around and pushed it toward his neck. She drove him backward until his back pressed against a tree trunk.

Graham watched the other men, but they were following their code, allowing one man at a time to face the opponent. To interfere in a challenge was not honorable. Jacob had volunteered so this was his fight.

Kelly kept the smile on her face as she pushed the sword into Jacob’s skin. Blood trickled down his throat, across the blade, and dripped onto the ground. The drips grew into a steady stream.

“Weakling or not, I’ll have your head,” she said and drove the blade through flesh and bone. She grabbed his hair as the sword pushed through and yanked the head from his neck.

Graham blinked. He’d never seen anything like that. He didn’t know what to think.

Kelly turned toward the other men, holding the head high. “That was so much fun, I may have to start a collection. Who’s next?”

One of the men stepped forward, but Thomas pushed himself to his feet and raced over to shove him back. Thomas spun around to face Kelly.

“You killed my eldest son.”

“You’re welcome.”

“This isn’t over.”

“I certainly hope not. I’m not even warmed up yet. Can I kill you next if I say pretty please?”

“We shall allow Graham to leave unharmed for now.”

“Mighty kind of you, but what if I don’t allow
you
to leave?”

“Ms. Chan,” Graham said, “please let them go. It would be improper to kill them.”

“Improper? Even though they were going to kill you?”

“Yes.”

Kelly shrugged. “It’s your call. But just so you know, I’d be happy to kill them all right now.”

“There’s no honor in that,” Graham said.

“Maybe not but it would sure be fun. And Mike Endar might pay us a bonus if I end it right now.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want the opportunity to fight back.”

Kelly nodded and Graham knew that had he said anything else, she probably would have slain every member of the clan. She glared at Thomas. “I’ll let you go this time,” she said, “but before you leave, get your son’s body and take it with you. The city of Boulder has strict litter laws.”

“We’ll be back,” Thomas said. “Francis, Richard, get Jacob’s body.”

Kelly stepped back toward Graham, allowing the others to approach Jacob’s corpse. “Get up, Graham,” she said.

Graham rose. “They would have killed me.”

“You were never in any danger. I had you in sight the whole time.”

“Thank you.”

Kelly didn’t reply. Instead, she crouched and picked up Thomas’s sword. “Mr. Marshall? You might want this,” she said and tossed the blade to him.

He caught it easily, wiped the blood on his pants, then slid it into its scabbard. “May I please have my son’s head?”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before,” Kelly said. “Since you said the magic word.” She tossed the head to him. “Besides, where would I keep it?”

He caught the head, and as Richard and Francis carried the body past, he placed the head on Jacob’s midsection.

Thomas glared at Kelly then turned to his sons. “Move out,” he said.

As they turned to leave, Kelly waved and said, “You boys have a nice day now. You hear?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

KELLY CHAN

I have to admit that I really wanted to kill everyone. I could have ended the entire thing right then and there, but I watched them walk away. I’d ruined a perfectly good shirt for nothing.

Well, maybe not for nothing. If Graham grew a pair and stood up for himself, that would be a positive development. On top of that, I still wanted to be working with Jonathan. He seemed so much darker these days, so much more serious. Okay, I realize that fighting killers might not be the best way for some people to lighten up, but we were not most people. Jonathan needed an easy win, and this seemed like just the ticket. I could wipe out the Marshall Clan inside of thirty seconds, but it would be best to let Jonathan help. It also might be a good thing to have Graham help.

“You’d better fight back next time,” I said.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“It’s not how we were brought up.”

“Not how you were brought up?”

“If you know you’ve done wrong, fighting back brings dishonor to your family.”

“That may be the stupidest thing anyone has said to me in months.”

His jaw dropped. I guess he wasn’t expecting honesty.

“You want to finish your run?” I asked.

“No, I think we should head back.”

“Whatever works for you.”

Graham looked at me strangely. “You have blood on your hands.”

“Only a little,” I said. I was tempted to lick it off, but I didn’t think he could handle that, so I did the next best thing and wiped my hands on his pretty blue jacket.

“Hey!”

“What? You can afford a new running suit.”

He glared at me for a moment then turned and started jogging back toward the house.

I pulled out my cell and called Brand. He answered on the second ring.

“The bed is cold without you,” he said.