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Authors: Marjorie M. Liu

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BOOK: The Red Heart of Jade
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“But next time rub your hands and tack on a cackle,” Miri added. “That’s pure poetry.”

A flush stained Kevin’s neck. Ku-Ku leaned close to whisper in his ear; her Hello Kitty hairpieces sounded like bones as they clicked around her pigtails. She kept her gaze on Miri, who felt like she was being studied through the lashes of a pink and purple snake.

Miri smiled at her. Dean squeezed her hand.

“Don’t,” he breathed. “We already used up our smartass allowance,
bao bei
. Keep your mouth shut.”

“She deserves some pain,” Miri said through gritted teeth, still smiling. “I’m sure I’m the perfect person to give it to her.”

“I’m also sure this is not the best time.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Like I ever could,” he muttered.

“We need to go,” Kevin said. “Dr. Lee will come with us. You, sir, will stay behind.”

“Like hell,” Dean said. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

Kevin shook his head. “You cannot protect her. She is beyond your help.”

“I don’t think you know what I can and will do in the name of protecting this woman. “ Dean said, in a voice so hard, so mean, it made Miri flinch. “I don’t think you can imagine it.”

“And I think you are only one man, easily subdued.”

Ku-Ku and the other two men lunged, throwing themselves on Dean. He let go of Miri immediately, going down under the weight of those bodies like a rock. But that only lasted a moment; his fists and legs began connecting with flesh. Miri tried to jump into the fray, but a strong hand grabbed the base of her neck and refused to let go. She immediately went limp, tucking her legs up and letting gravity do all the work. She hit the floor hard, the contents of her purse spilling on the floor.

She glimpsed red, one slender corner of the jade. Kevin saw it, too. He stared and stared, eyes wide, sucking in his breath with a shudder that made her skin crawl. A mewling sound escaped his throat—so unexpected, so incongruous, Miri wondered if she imagined it. But there, again, he made that noise and it was a mix of childlike awe and gut-wrenching fear.

Miri reached for the jade, but Kevin beat her to it and she grabbed his hands, digging her nails into his flesh, grappling for possession. She did not care at all about its spiritual importance to Kevin or his benefactor; only, she thought she might need it to get Owen back, and that was a good enough reason to fight tooth and nail for it.

And she would have won if Ku-Ku had not cried out, startling her. Kevin pried her fingers off the jade, clutching it to his chest as he rolled from her. Miri chased him, but only for a moment. She looked at Dean.

The two young men were holding him from behind, arms looped over his shoulders. Ku-Ku knelt in front, staring at his upper body, much of which was exposed.

His shirt and jacket had ridden up during the fight, and the scars above his chest were now plain to see.

And the cut, that curving welt, was glowing.

You’re imagining it
, she told herself, but Kevin made a choking sound, and Ku-Ku sat transfixed. Miri could not look away, either. It was like staring out a window directly into a world of fire. Beautiful and eerie. Miri crawled close. Dean’s eyes were dark, unhappy.

“You have been marked,” Kevin whispered, but that was all he said because she suddenly smelled smoke, ash. All the color drained from Kevin’s face. He staggered, staring at the lab door, and said one sharp word to the men holding down Dean. They released him and Dean scrambled to his feet, going instantly to Miri. His face was terrible; he knew what that scent meant. She could see it in his eyes.

“We’re too late,” Kevin breathed, and the young men behind him pulled guns from the bags slung over their hips. Ku-Ku moved like a dancer, eyes narrow and bright and hard. Her gaze flickered to the long corridor beside them; another exit, the way out to the vehicle unloading area.

And then Miri heard a rasping sound beyond the doors of the lab, an odd hard ripping. Something was on the stairs and it was large, ponderous, an unending rolling rumble that got louder and louder, like a truck engine wrapped in snakeskin and chains.

Dean grabbed Miri and backed her up against the wall, pushing her down the corridor toward the exit. His jaw was hard, his eyes as cold as anything she had ever seen.

“Miri?” he said softly. “Run. Run now, and don’t look back.”

“Dean—”

But she did not finish. The door slammed open, black smoke pouring like water into the room. Heat washed over Miri’s face; the air sucked out of her lungs and she staggered, horrified. She heard a shout and someone opened fire on the smoke in front of the door.

It was Ku-Ku. Miri glanced over her shoulder and saw the slender girl with a pistol in her hand and pigtails flying, like some Manga warrior princess going hard-core on the kick-ass overdrive, and by God she was pumping those bullets like a prize. The young men flanking her lurched forward, but they were clearly less experienced in the ways of the gun. Given everything Miri thought she had known about the girl, it was like watching Strawberry Shortcake on a killing spree.

And in the middle of it all, clouded by the smoke, she saw an odd misshapen form begin to emerge; white, as white as snow, and larger than the door. She imagined a neck, or an outstretched arm, hair so long it touched the floor. And then Dean moved in front of her, pushing, yelling, and she turned and ran.

She did not look back. Dean propelled her down the hall to the exit with terrifying speed. Heat washed over her back. A man screamed.

No
, she thought.
No, this is not happening
. Too much crazy, too many impossible things. Something in the air, the water, the entire freaking island.

Something about that red jade.

The back exit’s double doors were open; they raced into a small parking lot and loading bay. Miri heard footsteps pound the pavement behind them and glanced over her shoulder. It was Kevin. He moved surprisingly fast for a man of his size and age—or maybe it was just the fiery inferno blowing up his ass from down the hall they had just left. He did not quite slam into her, but almost; Dean wrapped his arm around Kevin’s neck and hauled the older man off, throwing him to the ground. Kevin tried to take Miri with him. She went down on one knee...

... and saw exactly what they had done to the mummies. In fact, she was crouching in them. Or in what was left, which was little more than dust. Kevin and his men had stomped on the bodies until they were nothing but broken fragments, bits and pieces of three lives, turned into something less than fertilizer. It was more horrible than she had even realized.

“How could you?” she asked, as Dean stepped close and rummaged through Kevin’s bag. He found one of the guns that had been taken from him and pointed it at the older man. Kevin did not appear to notice. He simply stared and stared at Dean and Miri, eyes wide, mouth moving in some silent chant.

“Give me the jade,” Dean said, and much to Miri’s shock, the older man obeyed without hesitation, pulling the artifact from his front pocket. Another scream erupted from the building. Fire alarms soared; she heard the babble of nearby voices. Late-night students, drawn by the sounds. Kevin kept his arms extended toward Dean after he gave up the jade. Supplication, prayer, mercy; it disturbed Miri.

“Stop,” Dean said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you don’t know what you are holding,” Kevin said. “Because you don’t know what you are.”

“What I am,” Dean echoed, gazing past him into the building. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Kevin shook his head. “You must take the jade and go. Get out of here. Now, before he finds you.
You can’t
let him find you. “

“I don’t understand,” Miri said, as Dean grabbed her elbow and hauled her up off the ground. “Why would you do that? Why change your mind and help us?”

He said nothing, pressing his lips together into a hard line. Dean began dragging her away, but she fought him, crying out, “Why Owen? Why me?”

“Because we had to,” Kevin blurted, suddenly pitiful and small, nothing but a helpless old man. “Because she said it would be the end if we didn’t.”

“Who said that? Your boss is a woman?”

“She is no ordinary woman,” Kevin said, with a conviction and a fervor that were just as astounding as every other twist and turn of his personality.

“She’s letting you die,” Dean said. “Whoever your unordinary woman is, she’s let all her people burn to death at the hand of that thing in there. You want to follow that? All for what? A... a book? A book and flesh?”

A book and flesh? Miri
turned, incredulous, but Dean still looked at Kevin, who stared at him with such profound horror that she knew whatever he had just spoken was the absolute truth.

“You know,” he whispered, and it was suddenly difficult for her to remember him as the troublemaker she had loved to hate. His face now belonged to a stranger, a monster, someone weak and pathetic. All those things, rolling in his eyes.

“No,” Dean said. “But you could tell me.”

Kevin reached with shaking hands into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He tossed them to Miri and gestured at the squat, dingy dark blue van parked nearby. Miri ran to the driver’s side and opened the door. Dean did not follow.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to Kevin. “You don’t want to stay here. Not with that thing.”

“No,” Kevin murmured, and then, “There is another piece of jade. You must find it.”

“I don’t have to find anything,” Dean said, inching close. Miri heard a terrible screeching sound from inside the building. Elsewhere, sirens. Students running from the darkness.

Kevin scrambled to his feet. “You have no choice but to find it now. You’ve been marked. Your life is no longer your own.”

Miri caught movement on the periphery of her vision. She looked down the long corridor into the fire, into smoke, and saw a body coming toward them. Indistinct, but utterly inhuman.

“Dean,” Miri snapped. “Dean, we need to go!”

“What does that mean?” he said to Kevin, ignoring her. “Yo, what does that mean?”

“It means you are a monster,” Kevin said, and he turned and ran into the inferno.

Chapter Six
Miri stared, horrified, unable to summon the strength to chase after Kevin. She had no time to cry out before his body disappeared behind the smoke, and for a moment, as she stared after him, she imagined another set of eyes in the fire, eyes behind the veil, with a gaze like the sun. Miri felt something sharp inside her head, a prick, a great heat against her skin.
And then Dean was there, shoving her into the van, and Miri heard a roar, like an animal, and he raced around the front of the van as she jammed the key into the ignition, yelling, “Go! Go! Go!” as the engine put-putted into a weak rumble.

He jumped into the passenger seat and Miri went. Tires squealed. Rubber burned. Dean twisted in his seat, hanging out the window.

“What do you see?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, but his voice was flat, hard, and she tried to look through the side mirror at the chaos they were leaving behind. It was too late, and there were too many curves in the road.

“What the hell just happened back there?” Miri asked, though it took her a moment before her throat worked. Her voice sounded weak, broken.

“Fire, brimstone, hell on earth. “ Dean flashed her a humorless smile. “You want an entire list?”


Dean. “
Miri took a hard turn; he hit his head on the ceiling as he slid back into his seat. He grimaced, rubbing his forehead.

“You remember what I said about that picture of you? That I found it during an investigation?”

“Yes. “ She had been wondering about that use of the word and its implications.

“There have been a series of murders over the past week. That’s what I was referring to back in the lab. People set on fire.”

“Fire,” she echoed. “I think I’ve heard about it on the news. Grisly news. People burning to death made a great headline.”

“Yeah. And I’ll give you one guess who the culprit is.”

“You’re kidding. “ Miri glanced at him; the look he gave her was deadly serious and she said, “Dean, that thing back there
was not
human.”

“Not human. “ He grimaced. “You got no idea, sweetheart. But that’s the easy part, the part that isn’t hard to explain. Where it gets complicated are the people that thing murdered. What they knew, what they were involved in. They all had a connection.”

“The jade,” she said.


You, “
he said softly. “Just you. The last victim I found had that picture, your location. An assignment with your name on it.”

“But you linked it to Kevin.”

“A guess, but only because I found something else at the crime scene. An energy trail from someone who was walking through this university. I saw the exterior of that archaeology building, Miri. I just didn’t know what it mean until I got there and saw it with my own two eyes.”

“You think you picked up the edge of Owen’s kidnapping?”

“Maybe. That victim also had a manifest. Most of the people on it are dead, but I bet if I looked, there would be a Kevin Liao on the list.”

“Hunted,” she said. “They were also being hunted because of the jade.”

“Or something else they know that’s related to it.”

Miri swayed forward in her seat, knuckles white around the wheel. She wanted to set her teeth in the plastic and gnaw on it like some oversized chew toy.

“Do you need me to drive?” Dean asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she lied. “But I need you to tell me more. Like how you’re involved in this mess, what you’ve been doing with your life for the past twenty years that could possibly have you investigating murders committed by monsters.”

“I work for a detective agency,” he said.

“Detective agency. “ She laughed, and knew it sounded bitter. “Are you kidding me?”

“You sound so cheated.”

“Considering everything that’s happened, I expected something more flamboyant.”

“No. It’s boring. Just a bunch of paper pushers. With guns.”

“Guns,” she muttered. “What I’ve seen today is way more hard-core than midnight surveillances and photos of men cheating on their wives. Are you sure you’re not part of the government? Some secret agent, covert operation thing?”

“Please. Do I look like a secret agent?”

“Secret agents aren’t supposed to look secret. That’s the whole point. Besides, what kind of detective agency gets involved in shit like this?”

“The very cool kind. I could be my own action figure.”

“I hope you can bounce back like an action figure, because one more joke like that and I’m kicking you out of this van and running you over with the tires.”

“So much anger. Whatever happened to living life with a smile?” And he began humming a Jimmy Du-rante tune.

Miri shook her head. “You haven’t changed at all, have you? You’re doing the same thing. Still trying to make me laugh.”

“It’s not only for you,” he said. “I was also just called a monster, don’t forget. And somehow, I don’t think Kevin meant that as a metaphor.”

“Kevin is crazy,” Miri said. “But you got him in the end with that mention of a book and... and flesh.”

“It’s part of another vision I had at the victim’s home tonight. I heard someone giving instructions, talking about how some book couldn’t be allowed in the flesh, or some crap like that. I can’t remember exactly. Just that it was weird.”

“And connected with the jade, and apparently that mark on your chest, which was ever so popular with everyone in that lab.”

“About that—” he said slowly.

“Yes,” she interrupted. “I saw the glow. And no, I’m not going to ask.”

“Thank God. Because I have no idea what it means.”

“And the only person who does ran back into that burning building.”

“Bummer,” Dean said. “I was almost beginning to like the bastard.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, thinking of Ku-Ku, as well. Trying to imagine her dead. Despite everything, it hurt. She had liked that girl. Or at least, the mask she had worn.

“So you’re a detective,” she said. “You’re a detective who travels to Taiwan to hunt someone who is distinctly nonhuraan, and who is flagrantly setting people on fire. I’m surprised I haven’t heard more about this on the news.”

“I hope to God you
never
hear about that murderer in the media. You can’t imagine what would happen if someone like that went public.”

“Murder is already public, Dean. You can’t get much more public than burning people to death. And hello? What he just did at the university? There are bound to be witnesses. Security cameras, at the very least.”

“I know,” he said grimly. “It’s bad for all of us.”

“Us?” she echoed.

Dean hesitated. “I really do work for a detective agency, Miri. It’s just that my employer hires a bunch of... diverse people. Diverse like me.”

“Oh,” she said; and suddenly it all made sense. Not in any detailed way, but pieces fell on top of other pieces, which fell into place: Dean’s acceptance of everything weird that had happened, his ease and confidence in using his gift, his navigation of the bizarre and illegal.

“You found others,” she said.

“They found me,” he replied. “No one really knows about the agency, of course. It’s all secret and we do regular detective work—finding kidnap victims, solving murders. The title is just a cover so we can use our gifts to help people. You know, without being called freaks or being watched.”

“Or studied,” she said.

“Or studied,” he repeated softly. “So yeah, that’s why I was sent to Taiwan. We knew that the killer was also... like us, and it was up to me to bring him under control. So he doesn’t ruin it for everyone else.”

“And by doing so, look at what you got caught up in.”

“It brought me back to you. I can’t complain.”

He said it like he meant every word, and Miri looked at him, really stared, until he pointed at the road and grabbed the wheel. The van swerved, and Miri swore silently, wrestling back control before she veered into oncoming traffic. Dean let go, but only just; his fingers trailed over her hand and lingered on her wrist.

“You okay with this?” he asked.

“Fine,” she snapped, heart hammering. “Just jittery, that’s all.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant this, us, me. The way you looked... it was like you didn’t believe a word I said.”

“Would it bother you if I didn’t?”

“Yeah. I’m not your enemy, Miri.”

“Good,” she replied. “What a pleasure to hear.”

Dean’s fingers slipped away from her wrist. “I don’t get it. One minute you act like we’re friends again, and the next... Jesus. I feel like I should be in handcuffs or something.”

“And what? You want me to feel sorry for making you feel bad?”

“Of course not. I just don’t understand why you’d think I’d try and pull something on you. Hell, if I wanted to hurt you I would have done it already.”

That, she believed. Miri steadied her grip on the wheel, trying to find the words, wanting so desperately for him to understand. Nothing came to her except an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

Miri rolled down the window. The van’s air conditioner could not keep up with the heat, and the humid breeze was better than anything stale and stuffy. Sweat rolled down her back and face. She felt sticky and greasy and smelly. Fear, running off her body. She savored the rush of air against her hot face. Tears wet her eyes.

A hand touched the back of her head, stayed there with a different kind of warmth; dry and comforting.

“Hard night,” Dean murmured.

“We’ve had other hard nights,” she whispered. “But this is worse.”

“Yeah. “ He hesitated, then pulled something from his pocket. The statue of Glen Campbell. He held it in his hand and closed his eyes. Miri’s gaze moved from the road to his face; she caught the slow change in his expression, the frown, a growing crease in his forehead. Dread hit her low, in the gut.

“Dean,” she whispered, but he said nothing and pressed his head into his hands, pushing the statue against his skin with his eyes squeezed shut. He rocked in his seat. Miri hit the brakes and pulled the van to the side of the road, deep within the mouth of a long residential alley lined with bicycles and large potted trees; an old man sat on a concrete stoop some distance away, smoking a cigarette. Miri looked down at her hands, knuckles white around the wheel. The engine ticked and rumbled. The air inside the van was almost too hot to breathe.

“Keep moving,” he muttered. “We need to keep driving.”

“What the hell is wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snapped. “Owen’s alive. I just can’t track him anymore. I can’t fix his location.”

Miri briefly closed her eyes. “This night is just getting worse and worse. I’m not going to live to see morning, am I?”

“Don’t talk like that. I don’t want to hear it from you, Miri. Please.”

“Okay,” she said, peering into his stricken face. “Okay, Dean.”

He settled back in his seat and returned the statue to his pocket. “I don’t know why this is happening. It’s like there’s a block in my head. I couldn’t track the killer, I couldn’t track you, and now Owen’s been cut off. It’s like... it’s like someone’s manipulating the energy, making it self-contained. “ He looked at her, and she felt the shift in his gaze, knew he was studying a whole other part of her body that she could only imagine.

“You’re self-contained,” he whispered. “You have no trail, Miri.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that everyone leaves a trail. You remember that much, right? It’s how I track people. It’s how I would have tracked you. “ He pulled the locket out from beneath his shirt, and bounced it in hand. She still remembered giving it to him; hooking the chain around his neck on a whim.

“I looked for you,” he said slowly. “I did. I thought, maybe, I could still be with you somehow. Like, if you were a ghost. I thought I could follow you. I used the necklace. I used it every damned day. I did everything I could. I just... never saw anything.”

Miri gripped the wheel until her hands hurt and said, “You’re telling me that for the past twenty years I had no trail for you to follow.”

“I look at you now and it’s obvious you’re alive, but you travel like a ghost. I saw the same thing with the... the creature back at the university. It’s why I had such a hard time finding him in the first place. Tonight, earlier, I got a lucky break. But if I wanted to track him? If I wanted to track you? I don’t think I could.”

“How does that happen to a person?” Miri asked him. “Why would... my body be doing that?”

“I don’t know,
bao bei
. But it must have started that night you were shot, because I never had any trouble finding you before.”

Miri closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. “And Owen?”

“I don’t know. If I had to guess, I would say that someone is running interference, though how that’s possible...”

“Are there people capable of doing that?”

Dean shrugged, still gripping the statue. “I’ve seen some crazy shit over the past year, not including tonight. I’d say just about anything is possible. Hell, seeing you again qualifies as a goddamn miracle.”

“Amen,” she muttered, and Dean cracked a smile that faded fast. He rubbed Glen Campbell’s brass head.

“Still nothing. I’m so sorry, Miri. I think I know what Owen means to you, if he really is like Ni-Ni.”

“He is,” she whispered, feeling a terrible pain inside her chest. “I was eighteen and miserable when I went to college. Still not over you, and Ni-Ni had been gone a year. The only thing I had was my fantasy of being some Indiana Jones archaeologist. Because hey, the past is done, dry, dead. It can’t hurt you, right? You don’t experience all the grit and suffering of the living. Just the facts, all those puzzle pieces. And Owen... I guess he must have seen something in me. Maybe hunger. I don’t know. Only, he and his wife took me in. Made sure I had something stable to lean on.”

BOOK: The Red Heart of Jade
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