Authors: Marjorie M. Liu
Within the Flames (32 page)
S
erena McGillis was tall, lean, and wore dark clothing that hugged her body like a glove. Red hair, threaded with golden highlights, fell to her chin. Ageless face. Feline scent. An eye patch that Jimmy thought was just too cool for words.
He didn’t seem to notice that her other eye wasn’t quite human, but Lyssa did, and it made her feel less awkward when Serena openly studied her right arm.
“Does it ache?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Serena nodded and tossed her a shopping bag full of clothing. “I didn’t know your size, so I went big.”
Large jogging pants and a sweatshirt. There were gloves, too. Warm and roomy. Lyssa liked them all. Eddie received something similar. They dressed inside the car, while Serena and Jimmy moved Tina to the Humvee idling beside them. Icky sat in the big front seat, wagging his tail and panting.
“Do you need to wipe down the car for prints?” Lyssa asked Eddie.
He shook his head. “I’m going to burn it. Safer, that way. We’ve been in it for too long, and there’s blood in the backseat.”
He waited, though, until they were in the Humvee and on the road. Serena pulled over. Eddie looked through the back window at the stolen Cadillac, which was parked several hundred feet away. A safe distance from them and the gas station.
Lyssa saw flames flicker inside the car. Small, at first—then larger, licking the windows and spreading through the interior.
When Serena pulled back onto the road, Lyssa didn’t look back. Neither did Eddie. She sat snug against his side, warm and drifting, trying not to think too hard. It was all so surreal. All the blood, and violence . . . floating away, detaching from her as though some ghost was absorbing
her
memories. Softening them, if nothing else.
Is that you?
Lyssa asked her dragon.
If so, thank you.
You are welcome.
Rest, sister.
You will need your strength.
The war,
it added
, is not done yet.
S
erena parted ways with them at LaGuardia, to—as she put it, go and clean some things up. Tina and Jimmy were already aboard the private jet, and the pilot was a familiar face. Eddie felt safe enough, though he kept scanning the hangar for anything that might be a witch or gun.
“Lannes and Lethe are back in Maine,” Serena said to him. “I met them at the airport, along with his two brothers. I’ve never seen gargoyles armed with
guns,
but they were. And they seemed especially protective of Lethe. Care to explain?”
“No,” Eddie replied. “It’s their business.”
“Huh.” Serena looked at Lyssa with a hard glint in her eye. “Lannes explained what you did for him and his wife. He also told me what you are.”
“And?”
“Did you kill the witch?”
“Not yet. I don’t recommend you go near that burned house for a while, either. Just in case you’d planned to.”
Serena hesitated, her single eye narrowing. “You’re not what I expected. Eddie and I were both told that we’d be searching for a lost lamb, a damaged little girl. A
shape-shifter,
and nothing more.”
Lyssa tensed. “Is that what Long Nu said?”
Serena’s gaze hardened. “You know her.”
“Of course. And Long Nu knows
me . . .
which is why she didn’t come herself . . . if she ever truly was worried about my welfare.” Bitterness touched her mouth. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
The implications were very disturbing. Eddie and Serena shared a long look.
“Will you call Roland?” he asked her.
“Of course.” She began to turn away, but stopped and looked back at Lyssa. “What are your intentions?”
“Hey,” he said.
“She has a right to ask.” Lyssa looked her dead in the eyes. “I just want to be left alone.”
“You carry the blood of a dragon and a
Cruor Venator,
” replied Serena, and for the first time, Eddie heard a trace of unease in her voice.
“Being bothered,” she said, edging away, “will be the least of your problems.”
S
even hours later, they arrived in San Francisco.
A rental car was waiting. Eddie drove them to a quiet neighborhood in a nice part of the city, where he had the keys to an elegant Tudor built at the end of a cul-de-sac.
“My friend, Amiri, owns this home,” he said, as Jimmy helped his mother from the car. “But he and his wife are in Africa at the moment. He won’t mind guests.”
Eddie hoped that was true, anyway—but he didn’t want Jimmy and Tina in a hotel, not anymore. They needed a private, quiet setting to heal . . . not someplace downtown where people would be coming and going.
Lights came on in the house, which smelled faintly like lemon oil. Tina looked around with careful appreciation, stepping lightly over the floors as if she were afraid to touch anything. “How long can we stay here?”
“Several months,” Eddie told him. “Or until we find something else.”
“We’ll be very careful to leave it as we found it,” Tina said, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Jimmy was uncharacteristically quiet as he clutched Icky to his chest. His eyes were so old, reminding Eddie a bit of himself. “You’re not really going away for good, are you?”
“I live in this city,” he said, gently. “We’ll practically be neighbors. You’ll be sick of me.”
Jimmy nodded, but the worry in his eyes didn’t go away. Lyssa crouched and smoothed back his hair.
“You’ll be sick of me, too,” she said. “I’m staying here.”
Eddie’s heart leapt. Jimmy peered at her. “Promise?”
“Shhh,” said Tina, coming up behind him with a weary, sweet smile. “Don’t be a pest.”
She said it kindly, with a teasing note in her voice. Jimmy grinned, leaning against her as she wrapped a slender arm over his shoulders.
They had stuck with the Bolivian-drug-lord story. Even Jimmy thought that was better than human experimentation, kidnapping, and fire—and the boy, to give credit where it was due, knew how to tell a very convincing lie.
Tina didn’t even remember Aaron Roacher finding her at work, so they’d had to blame her bruises and cuts on a car accident. Memory loss because she’d hit her head. If she was suspicious, she didn’t show it. Confused, yes . . . and concerned . . . but willing to take the leap of faith that they had needed to leave New York, fast. She trusted Lyssa and her son
that
much.
And she was used to running, too,
he thought.
Of course, telling lies wasn’t a fair burden to put on Jimmy . . . but short of taking his memories, all they could do was promise to be there if he needed to talk. And he
would
need someone. Probably every day for a long time to come.
Eddie knew that the boy’s smile was deceptive. Nothing could hide the shadows in his eyes. He had seen too much violence.
But Jimmy won.
He beat the monsters and helped save his mother.
It’ll help him heal.
That, and knowing he’s still protecting Lyssa by keeping her secret.
It was amazing what helping a beautiful woman could do for a boy’s—or a man’s—sense of purpose.
Eddie pointed to Jimmy’s suitcase. “Serena was able to retrieve your case files. When I see you tomorrow, we’ll talk detective work, okay?”
Tina reached for Lyssa’s hand. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Don’t,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “I upended your life.”
She shook her head and gave Eddie a knowing smile. “I can tell that
you
understand.”
“She’s a little slow when it comes to these things,” Eddie agreed, jumping away when Lyssa gasped and tried to poke him.
They left an hour later. One block from the house, Lyssa said, “Pull over.”
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, concerned.
“No.” She rolled down the window, closing her eyes as a cool breeze filled the car. It was mid-afternoon and sunny, with that clean California light that felt different here, compared to anywhere else. The street was quiet, empty, and even though it was the middle of the day, Eddie felt as though it was just the two of them in the world.
“I want to make this moment last,” she said. “I haven’t felt so . . . normal . . . in a long time.”
“Normal,” he echoed, running his hands over the steering wheel.
“Out, with people. Doing things that people take for granted. I’ve never been on a plane before today. I’ve ridden in buses and cabs; but before I met Estefan, I never sat inside a personal vehicle. It’s strange. How am I going to live now?”
With me,
he wanted to tell her. Instead, he said, “It took me a long time to adjust to living off the street, like regular people. You know, with money and a job. It still feels new, even strange, sometimes.”
Lyssa studied him with soft, gentle eyes. “You always surprise me when you say things like that. When I’m with you . . . I can’t imagine you ever
not
having your life in order.”
“Order doesn’t mean normal. The job I do . . . it’s often violent. I’m always on the outskirts of things. Watching backs. Making sure everything is okay.”
“You protect.”
Eddie hesitated. “I try. If I can keep someone safe . . . that’s important to me. You know why.”
Lyssa leaned over and kissed his cheek. Eddie turned his head before she could pull away, capturing her mouth, sinking into her sweet taste and heat. Just being near her was comforting
and
erotic—like, even
thinking
about holding her hand gave him a hardave into her -on—but
kissing
her was something else entirely.
Eddie pulled back. Lyssa gave him a dreamy smile that made him want to drag her into the backseat.
He couldn’t help himself. His hand slipped under her sweatshirt, tracing a path up her side until he touched her heavy, full breast. She shivered, pushing against him, and in a voice too rough to possibly belong to him, he said, “Put down your seat.”
Amazingly, she didn’t argue, fumbling until her chair reclined all the way down. Eddie stared at her, heart pounding, overcome with lust and hunger, and—and
love
—and it drove him a little insane, realizing that the moment belonged to them.
That somehow, in his crazy, lonely life, he had finally gotten touched with luck beyond his wildest dreams.
Lyssa smiled. “Hi, over there.”
Eddie grinned, leaning over her. “Hi.”
His lips met hers, soft at first, then hard, tongues slipping together as pleasure stormed through him in a hard, throbbing ache. His hand slipped beneath the band of her sweatpants. He knew she wasn’t wearing underwear, and he loved the sigh and whimper that drifted from her mouth as his fingers pressed and rubbed between her shifting legs.
“Eddie,” she whispered, tugging down his own sweatpants. “I really want you inside me.”
He groaned as her hand wrapped around him, and bit back a deeper, louder cry when her fingers squeezed. If anyone walked or drove past, they would be seen . . . but right then, he didn’t care.
He kissed her harder, slipping his fingers inside her body and rotating them in a deep, circular motion. Lyssa rubbed against his hand, moaning against his mouth. Her grip on his penis loosened, but only enough to drag her fingers to his sensitive head, caressing him so perfectly in that one, fleeting touch, he almost came in her palm.
“Your breasts,” Eddie said in a ragged voice, and Lyssa pulled up her sweatshirt, exposing herself to him. He dipped his head, drawing her hard nip
ple into his mouth and suckling. Lyssa’s back arched, sharp nails digging into his scalp.
He pulled his fingers from the slick, wet heat of her body, and started flicking the hard nub of her clitoris.
Lyssa’s hips jerked, and her soft grunts of pleasure were so sexy he thought he could climax just as eiman="justiasily from listening to her. He rubbed her harder, faster, taking her cries into his mouth with long, breathless kisses—and when she finally came, he muffled her scream, and her eyes glowed golden hot.
“Eddie,” she whispered raggedly, sagging against the seat. “Take me someplace where there’s a bed, please.”
He laughed, but it turned into a groan when her hand found his penis again. Her fingers kneaded his shaft in light movements that stole every coherent thought from his head.
Lyssa leaned over the gearshift and licked him. Her tongue was so hot. Eddie couldn’t breathe.
“Did you mean it? About not leaving San Francisco?” His voice was hoarse, and broken.
Her smile turned serious. “Yes. Was that . . . should I have asked you first?”
“No.” Eddie thought for a moment about what to say next. It was difficult, given that she was still touching him. “If you want to stay in a hotel, I—”
She started laughing and clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Okay,” he said, smiling. “I’ll take you to my place.”
L
yssa was surprised when Eddie drove to the waterfront and parked in the underground lot of what had to be a very expensive apartment building.
“You’re rich?” she said to him.
Eddie shrugged as if embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I get paid well. It’s nice.”
She smiled, shaking her head.
They stood close, holding hands, as the elevator took them up the fifteenth floor. Lyssa was suddenly too nervous to look at him, but she kept her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her other hand buried in his sweatshirt. His body radiated heat. So did hers, she realized. The air around them shimmered with it, like an oven.
“Are we going to set off fire alarms?” she asked, with real concern.
“Uh,” he said, and laughed. “I hope not.”
His apartment was a roomy studio with large windows that overlooked the Bay Bridge. Tidy, without much furniture. Just a bed, a couple soft chairs, and a small table near the kitchen.
“I’m not here a lot,” he said.
“Do you travel all the time?”
“I’m gone a week or two or a month, typically. But sometimes I need that . . . room. The one I told you about. Where I can burn.”
Lyssa nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know . . . how I fit into your life, exactly. Being with me won’t be easy, you know. Your friends . . .”
Eddie had been standing by the door, watching her, but he crossed the distance in moments. He didn’t touch her, but instead he loomed, holding her gaze with a dangerous intensity that made her feel like she was the only person in the world who mattered.
“If they can’t accept you,” he said quietly, “they are not my friends.”
Lyssa backed away. “Don’t say that. My father lost all his friends because he felt the same way. It hurt him, and my mother.”
“But it didn’t damage the two of them
together,
did it?”
“No,” she said, after a moment. “No, it didn’t. They loved each other very much.”
Eddie’s eyes softened. “Would you believe me if I said I loved you?”
Her breath caught. “If you say it . . . I’ll believe.”
“I love you,” he whispered, in a low, rough voice. “I love you.”
I love you.
Words that resonated, and flowed. Words that she had been feeling, and holding in her own heart, afraid to think them because it was more than she had imagined ever feeling. More than she had imagined anyone feeling about
her.
But she
did
believe him. He was too much in her blood, not to believe.
Lyssa swallowed hard, allve.
“You know . . . there’s this thing about shape-shifters,” she said, slowly. “We sort of . . . stick with one person for our entire lives. So it means something when we love. We don’t . . . take that lightly.” She raised a trembling hand to touch his cheek. “When I’m with you . . . everything inside me says
yes.
”
Eddie captured her hand. “Is that instinct or love?”
Lyssa smiled. “It’s like . . . feeling as though every sappy love song I’ve ever heard is my theme song.”
His nose crinkled, and he laughed. “Choose one.”
She tangled her fingers in his sweatshirt. “Take off your clothes, and maybe I will.”
His cheeks turned red, but he stripped. Lyssa stood back, biting back a smile that felt full and rich, and heavy with her heart.
Eddie’s body was lean and broad with muscle, and he had an erection. Her scratch marks on his chest were healing, and only caused her a moment’s consternation.
Giving her a bold look, he said, “A song, please.”
Lyssa hesitated, thinking about her arm—and then pulled her sweatshirt over her head, and tossed it at him. “ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’ ”
His smile warmed though his eyes darkened with hunger. She noticed that he did not look at her breasts or dragon scales. Just her eyes.
“I want to hear you say it, Lyssa.”
“I love you,” she told him. “I love you, and it’s not instinct. It’s me. It’s my heart. My heart loves you, and I don’t how it happened. But it did, and it’s crazy.
You’re
crazy to love
me.
”
“If you’re not the one for me, then I
am
crazy.” Eddie took a deep breath and hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her sweats. “May I?”
She laughed and covered his hands—her right hand, so careful—helping him push the sweats down off her hips. He knelt as he undressed her, trailing kisses against her stomach. Lyssa closed her eyes, savoring the heat of his mouth.
He drew her to the bed. The late afternoon light cast a soft glow over their skins as they made love. Nothing mattered but his touch and smile and kiss, and she strained against him, wanting so badly to take him into her body.
“Lyssa,” he gasped, as she guided him to the right spot.
“Please,” she begged, breathless.
His eyes darkened, and he grabbed her hip, pushing into her slowly. Lyssa gasped as her body stretched around him. Eddie made a similar sound, squeezing shut his eyes as a tremor wracked him.
“You’re so tight,” he whispered. “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” she breathed, arching her hips so that he had no choice but to sink deeper. “Hard and fast, Eddie. Please.”
He groaned and thrust forward. Lyssa felt a sharp pain, but that disappeared in moments. He pulled out, then thrust again, and again, grinding into her with hard, long strokes. She clung to him, matching his rhythm, heat racing through her body into his. Smoke rose from his back, fire licking across his skin. Lyssa covered those flames with her hands—human and dragon—drawing them into herself as her muscles tightened around him.
His large hand covered her breast, squeezing, and he gathered up her leg and hitched it higher, deepening his penetration. His thrusts quickened. Lyssa gasped his name—losing control as a wild, cresting pleasure exploded through her body in one long, throbbing wave.
Eddie came with her, crying out and covering her mouth in a soul-deep kiss as his hips jerked and thrust, nearly sending her over the edge a second time.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them tangled and sweating, breathing so hard Lyssa was afraid their lungs would burst. The sheets were smoking around them.
We almost set the bed on fire.
It was too ridiculous—and wonderful.
She started to giggle. A foreign sound. It had been ten years since she’d made a noise like that, but it bubbled out of her from a place of pure joy. Eddie lifted his head, staring, and she pointed at the smoke, breath hitching as she struggled not to laugh. He grinned and began laughing with her.
Their laughter faded, though, as they stared into each other’s eyes.
“I’m scared,” she told him, softly. “Love didn’t save my parents.”
“You’re such a downer. They loved each other. Focus on that.” Eddie bit his lip until it bled. “Kiss me, Lyssa.”
She hesitated. “Eddie.”
But she didn’t stop him when he dipped his head, brushing his lips over hers. She tasted his blood.
The power that flowed from him was different than any other. Before, when taking her own blood or Lethe’s, it had felt as though a wall were slamming into her. Disruptive. Painful. Overwhelming.
The energy that flowed from Eddie’s blood was just the opposite. It moved into her, through her, wrapping her in a cocoon of fire that was strong and gentle and filled with love. It was power, but a deeper power than any other she had felt, and instead of ripping her apart . . . it filled her up.
Memories flashed through her mind: his pleasure, making love to her, his comfort at holding her in his arms . . . his fear of not being able to protect her.
And deeper than that, she saw a little girl’s face: pale and beautiful, with long dark hair and shadowy eyes filled with mystery.
Daphne.
Lyssa sighed into that memory and began to pull away. Except, something nagged at her. Something about Eddie’s blood.
The dragon stirred, stretching its wings with a satisfied purr.
Ah,
it whispered
.
Now his fire makes sense.
What?
Lyssa asked.
She heard a low, raspy chuckle.
Somewhere, not so long ago, one of his ancestors was a dragon.
“Whoa,” she said, opening her eyes.
Eddie blinked. “What?”
She told him.
“Oh,” he said, staring. “Whoa.”
E
ddie had never really questioned where his ability with fire came from, though some years back, he had finally asked his mother and grandmother if there were any truly unusual family stories . . . like, anything that verged on the supernatural.
“No,” both of them had said, which was either true, or meant that someone had been very good at hiding what they were.
Of course, he’d had to accept that this gift could have come from his father’s side. But given that his father had no living relatives, except a distant cousin who lived in Spain, there really wasn’t much way to find out.
Except now he knew he had shape-shifter blood inside him. And that was odd . . . but also comforting. The fire was not random. The fire was in him for a reason.
That, and Lyssa, occupied all his thoughts.
They lay tangled, talking, half-sleeping, touching each other and making out, and making love, and just . . .
being.
It was the most miraculous few hours of his life. More healing than anything he could have imagined. Waking up with Lyssa warm and naked in his arms . . .
If he lived forever, he would never forget, never take for granted,
never never never
let go of how deep a blessing it was that he had found her and that she was with him.
His stomach started rumbling, though. And then, so did hers.
“Rwar,” she said, scraping her teeth against his shoulder. “
Fooood.
”
He laughed, smoothing back her hair. “What do you want?”
“No one’s asked me that in ten years,” she said, blinking at him. And then she grinned. “What do you have?”
“I don’t even know. I usually eat out.”
Lyssa looked away from the bed, at the floor where she’d left her clothes. “All my money is in New York. I never used a debit card, but I could call and try to wire—”
“No,” said Eddie, and when she arched her brow at him, he added, “What I mean is, don’t worry about that yet.” Then, feeling even more awkward, he started to say, “That is, it’s not . . . I’ve got . . .”
“Money,” she said, dryly. “We really are going to have to figure out how this works.”
“Let me take care of you,” he replied. “At least for now.”
“Mmm.” Lyssa tapped her finger against his shoulder. “Just as long as you don’t ask me to call you Big Daddy.”
Eddie laughed and squeezed her backside. “Deal.”
She squirmed, giggling breathlessly, and rolled off the bed. “This is unreal.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows, admiring the view. “Tell me about it.”
Shyness entered her eyes, and she hugged her right arm against her body, backing away from him. Eddie pushed aside the sheets, and slid from the bed—following her. An appreciative smile touched her mouth as her gaze roved down his body, and desire filled him, again. He couldn’t imagine ever
not
wanting her.
“Never wear clothes,” she murmured. “I’ll call you Big Daddy all you want. And it will be
well deserved
.”
He bit back a smile. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you have any idea how crazy I am for you?”
“Crazy, yes,” she said, and gave him a self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know about beautiful. I’ve got this quirky appendage, don’t forget.”
“Beautiful,” he said again. “You’re the bestest-looking government experiment ever.”
She laughed, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, that poor kid.”
“He has a bright future,” Eddie told her, and meant it. “Let’s eat and get you some new clothes.”
“Yo,” she said, holding up her clawed right hand. “I know this is San Francisco, but people here have to have
some
limits for strange, right? Maybe we should shop online.”
“Please. If you show off all that dragon, the tourists will love you, and the locals will give you an award for cool.”
“They’ll think it’s some makeup job?”
Eddie smiled, feeling lighter and more unburdened than he had in had years. “Let’s go find out.”
Lyssa growled at him and went to explore his closet. He followed, and found her digging through his long-sleeved shirts.
“Take anything,” he said.
“I will,” she replied, pulling a soft, battered, long-sleeved shirt off the hanger. It was black, like a lot of his clothes.
Before she slipped on his shirt, he couldn’t help but reach out and stroke his finger down her smooth back. Lyssa shivered, giving him a half smile that was warm and knowing. His erection was instant, and throbbing.
“I can’t believe it,” he said. “I want you again. Right now.”
She laughed. “Do you have any jeans I can borrow?”
“They’ll be huge on you.”
“I like wearing your things.” Lyssa bent over to dig through his folded pants.
He either needed to touch himself or find his way inside her body. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“I’m wet for you,” she said bluntly. “Of course I am.”
His breath exhaled in a rush, and he reached for her hips. Lyssa leaned forward, bracing her hands on the wall and looking over her shoulder with glowing golden eyes.
“I’ve always wondered,” she said, “what it would feel like to be taken from behind.”
“God,” he said, and showed her.
H
is cell phone rang several times, but he was too busy exhausting himself—and Lyssa—to even think about answering. It wasn’t until after a fairly vigorous shower that he finally checked his messages.
All of them were from Roland.
“What is it?” asked Lyssa, rubbing a towel through her hair.
“My boss,” said Eddie, reluctantly. “He wants us to e wml:langcome over. Are you comfortable with that?”
“More than you are, I think.”
Eddie smiled, grim. “Yeah.”
Lyssa dressed in his jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She had to wear a belt and roll up the legs, but she still managed to look cute, even with a winter scarf wrapped around her neck and gloves on her hands.
His apartment was within walking distance to the office. Lyssa ventured outside with hesitation, touching the scarf, checking her gloves.
“I feel like I’m in a different world,” she told him. “I know that sounds stupid, but I’m a creature of certain habits. I’ve had to be. I familiarized myself with every city I lived in. I studied the people, how to behave . . .”
“You feel out of place here.”
“More than usual,” she admitted. “Off-balance. Part of that is you, though. It feels strange . . . being with someone. I’m so used to doing everything on my own.”
Eddie hesitated. “Do you feel stifled?”
“No.” Lyssa smiled. “No. I’m thinking about what to illustrate for my next job assignment.”
He ducked his head, pleased—and tucked her hand in his.
It was early evening, and the sun was setting. Scattered clouds covered the darkening sky, and seagulls cried. Eddie bought Lyssa hot chocolate, and he sipped coffee as they walked. It felt natural to have her beside him. As right as anything he had ever experienced. It made him feel . . . like a normal man.
Scattered memories filled him, flashes of his childhood, his life on the streets. He thought about the cage, and the fire that had wracked him so deeply he had expected his life would never be his again to control.
Out of control. Fighting for control. Stifling his life for control. That described so much of how he had existed.
But with Lyssa . . . he could just
be.
“I think Estefan might have mentioned Dirk & Steele,” she said, when they reached the building and he undid the locks on the narrow front door. “But I wasn’t really paying attention, and it was n, Steele,just in passing. All I can remember is an impression of his voice saying the name.”
“He knew enough to contact us.”
Lyssa forced a sad smile. “Yeah.”
During the elevator ride up to the top floor, she began to fidget. Eddie felt the same. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Roland.
But it was Long Nu who greeted them when the elevator doors opened.