Dragon’s Claw

  “For their wars, yes. It is why the fey who are presently allied with the old gods are so worried about your senate. It is not the mages who concern them, as human magic dissipates quickly in Faerie. But vampires, while they cannot make magic—”

  “Are magic.” I finished the phrase for him.

  I’d thought it often enough.

  He inclined his head. “And of a kind they cannot easily counter. The gods who designed the original spell worried about such things, too, afraid they were making an army that, one day, might turn on them. They therefore designed a weakness, one which, at the time, was not the common knowledge that it is today. It was a failsafe, a way for them to destroy their servants easily and quickly, should they get out of line—”

  “Wood,” the mage said, and shit. He shouldn’t be hearing this. Mircea was going to have a fit. “That’s why it hurts vampires.”

  “Not . . . precisely,” the Irin said. “It doesn’t hurt them more than any other weapon, but it does something that the others do not.”

  “It turns them human again,” I said, because the cat was out of the bag now.

  “Yes, thus allowing a simple blow to the head and heart—the loci for the spell—to kill them.”

  “Oh, my God,” Claire said. She was peering at me through a spiderweb of cracks, which left one eye higher than the other, but they both looked shocked. “Dory! The other side could use Dragon’s Claw to give lead bullets the same properties as wood! They could gun down—”

  “They already have,” I told her. “That’s why I’m in Hong Kong.”

  Somebody had figured out the perfect way to deal with the senate’s new army.

  “But who is they?” The mage said harshly. “Our enemies are legion. I need to know precisely who they are—and where!”

  “Why?” I asked him. “What does the Circle want with vamp killing bullets—or can I guess?”

  Hard green eyes narrowed on my face. I guess our little moment was over. “I could give a damn about your senate! But unless there are two major conspiracies going on in Hong Kong tonight, we’re after the same people. But for different reasons.”

  “And your reasons would be?”

  “I’ve told you—”

  “Damned little.”

  “Enough.”

  “I don’t think so.” That was Dorina. And before I could stop her, she had the mage by the throat, and had slammed him against the wall. “We’ve shown you ours, magic worker. Now show us yours.”

  “Is—is it wrong that that just turned me on?” Ray asked quietly.

  “I’ll show you something,” the mage snarled. “And without your bag of tricks, let’s see how well you handle it!”

  “My pleasure,” Dorina hissed, and I felt her smile. I couldn’t see it, since it was on my own face, but Claire suddenly looked alarmed.

  “Dory—”

  “My time is short,” the Irin said, turning our attention back to him. “As is yours, if you do

  not find the ones responsible for this.”

  “Then tell us who they are,” the mage snapped.

  “That is easier said than done. There were rumors of a new superweapon in the war, something that would destroy the advantage of our newly combined force with the vampires. But I couldn’t find out what it was, and I was afraid to make my interest too obvious. We’re known as Watchers, but others watch us as well, and I was not sure who to trust.”

  “You’re talking about other demons,” I said, getting a bad feeling suddenly. “You think they’re involved in this?”

  “I don’t think anything at this stage, but it is not impossible.”

  “But your kind—we’re supposed to be allies—”

  “Some of us are. But your people are not a monolith; why would you expect ours to be?”

  “Because everyone in the hells will be prey if the gods come back?” I said incredulously. “I thought that was the whole point of this war: them wanting back on earth to use it as a staging ground to hunt your people, and the power they’ve amassed over the centuries! Why would anyone—"

  “’Cause they don’t think we can win,” Ray broke in. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  The Irin didn’t deny it.

  “There are those who think the gods are too powerful and that their return is inevitable,” he said. “Who think that the only reason we have prevailed so far is their arrogance in one case, and their greed in another. But that, eventually, they will realize that none of them can succeed alone and will combine their forces, and on that day . . .”

  “We lose.” That was Claire, whispering from the mirror.

  “Do not fear, princess,” he said kindly. “Most of us do not agree with that assessment. But those who do wish to prove their loyalty now, so as to spare their lives later. And they are being very careful to hide their true intent. My people pride ourselves on the completeness of our information, but on this there are only rumors, whispers in the dark, any or none of which may be true. We won’t know more until whoever is behind this shows himself—if he does.”

  “He has to, though, right?” Ray asked. “Something like this don’t happen by itself. You gotta get the flowers, which I’d bet ain’t easy, then smuggle ‘em in here and—” he cut off.

  The Irin nodded. “And demons cannot enter Faerie on their own, at least not without great peril. If one of my kind is involved, he would need help.”

  “You’re talking about Cheung, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “Cheung?” The mage interrupted.

  “Newly appointed senator, used to hail from around here but now he’s on the North American Senate.”

  The mage frowned. “Does he have an associate named Zheng-zi?”

  “You know Zheng?”

  “We’ve been working together—”

  “Small world.”

  “—and he swore this wasn’t his old master’s doing—”

  “It isn’t,” Ray said, frowning.

  I raised an eyebrow, because Ray and his old boss were about as far from friends as it got. “Come again?”

  Ray sighed. “Look, Cheung’s a bastard, okay? A pirate through and through, no matter how many expensive suits he wears. But he’s got a code. Back when we were raiding, he had a list of no-no’s for the guys: no rape, no pillaging old ladies, no burning fishing villages, that kind of thing. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of sketchy stuff still happened, and staying on the good side of the locals sometimes paid off, like when the imperial fleet came looking for answers. But compared to what everybody else was doing . . .”

  “You’re saying this isn’t his style.”

  “Smuggling fey contraband? Sure. Smuggling shit to help bring back a bunch of ancient assholes to kill us all? Not so much.”

  Yeah, that had been my initial take on Master Cheung as well. That he’d cut you if you crossed him, but that otherwise, he could be reasonable. But I didn’t know what to think now.

  “I can only tell you what I saw,” the Irin said. “Rumors came to me about the possibility that vampires were involved in this, so when a group was sighted in the Shadowlands, I followed them—all the way to that basement in New York. Whereupon they promptly shot each other and wounded me.”

  “Mind control,” the mage said, sounding grim.

  “Yes, but how?” I asked. “If it’s Cheung, okay. A master vamp can control all but the strongest of his servants. But if it’s not—”

  “Ming-de?” Ray asked. “They say she’s as strong with the mental stuff as Mircea, maybe stronger—”

  “I never heard stronger.”

  “Just ‘cause she can’t read him doesn’t mean he’d win in a duel—”

  “Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t, either.”

  Ray grinned. “That’s a contest I’d like to see. Only, you know, not in person. From like a couple miles away—”

  “Mind control was my thought as well,” The Irin said, cutting in. “Fortunately, one of the vampires remained alive, and after using a device t
o retrieve the bullets, he travelled via portal here, to Hong Kong. Specifically, to a tailor’s shop his organization employed as a front. I followed him, hoping for leads, only to be assaulted on the other end. The vampires in question were like rabid beasts; I killed four in self-defense, but they kept coming—”

  “But you escaped.” The mage sounded suspicious.

  “Barely. And only because they killed themselves after setting the shop alight!”

  “Someone didn’t want you following any more leads,” I said.

  “No. But I had managed to take a few images from one of the creature’s minds before he self destructed, images that led me here. Where I ran into another ambush—”

  “And that was after fighting at the temple,” I said. The Irin looked surprised. “There were traces of your power there.”

  “Ah.”

  “Temple?” the mage said sharply.

  The Irin nodded. “My people do not need to use the usual entry points, as you know, and they are often crowded. I materialized in the Pagoda of the Hidden Moon, usually a peaceful spot. But there was some sort of disturbance going on, and I was already wounded. I made my way out of there as quickly as possible, and came here.”

  “You didn’t call for back up?” Ray asked. “’Cause I’da called for backup.”

  “He didn’t dare,” the mage said, looking at the Irin. “You don’t even trust your own people!”

  “I don’t trust anyone, nor should you.” For the first time, the answer was sharp. “Ask yourself, why did those vampires kill themselves in New York, where the senate was sure to find them? If someone merely wished to do away with them, it could have been done anywhere—including the hells. They were sent back only to die. Why?”

  “Somebody wanted them to be found,” I said, then stopped. Because I’d wondered the same thing in New York, and still didn’t have an answer.

  “You see the problem,” the Irin told me, and looked at the mage. “Trust no one until you deal with this.”

  “I can’t deal with this!” the man said furiously.

  “And why not? Is that not why you’re—”

  He broke off as what felt like a giant hand picked up the room and then abruptly dropped it, sending everyone but the Irin staggering.

  “—here?”

  The mage grabbed the railing and threw out a hand. “Because I have to deal with that!”

  “What is that? Dory? What’s wrong?” That was Claire.

  “I don’t know.” I ducked as a few more beams dropped down from the ruined ceiling. “I didn’t think they had earthquakes in Hong Kong!”

  “They got ‘em, but not like that!” That was Ray, springing back up as the tremors subsided. “That was no quake!”

  “Then what was it?”

  “A pillar. We just lost one!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Suddenly, things sped up around ye olde Chinese pharmacy.

  Zheng ran into the room below, but I barely recognized him because his usual smart, modern clothes were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he had on a Chinese tunic and wide-legged trousers in dark blue silk, most of which I also couldn’t see because they were covered by elaborate leather armor. Really elaborate.

  It had wide shoulder pieces with dragon’s head pauldrons, which were probably needed because Zheng was built like Goliath on steroids; a broad leather breastplate where another fierce looking dragon was prowling around, because it looked like kitty had gotten an upgrade; and a long, open fronted skirt-like thing that I guess was meant to protect the legs and probably would, since it was covered by trefoil brass plates that overlapped like dragon scales.

  He’d have easily won first prize at any Ren faire on the planet, but I didn’t think looks were the point. Because magic was snapping between the dragons and all those little trefoils, churning up a cloud of sparks whenever he moved. And he was moving a lot thanks to what looked like an army on his tail, pouring through the door and the ruined wall.

  “Mage!” he yelled. “Time!”

  I didn’t know what he meant, and didn’t get a chance to ask. Because the next second, about a thousand bullets, spells and throwing stars came flying at us, all at once. Claire screamed, Ray shrieked, and I hit the deck, dragging my demented Child down with me, which was harder than it sounds because he was trying to cover me with his body.

  “They have vamp killing bullets!” I yelled, wrestling with the absolute idiot. “Cut it out!”

  But Ray wasn’t cutting it out. Ray was scrambling around, getting personal. Until I grabbed his hair, pried his nose out of my cleavage and pointed it outward.

  Where his eyes focused on the huge blue shield suddenly shimmering between us and the army.

  It was at least three feet thick and spanned the entire length of the room, undulating slowly like a wave trapped in air. But it wasn’t a wave, it was a massive field of magical energy that absolutely should not have been there. Because we only had one mage and nobody had that much power.

  “The fuck?” Ray said, and we both turned to look at the guy in question. Who was beet red with heavy chords sticking out of his neck. Which didn’t surprise me.

  What surprised me was that he hadn’t had a heart attack yet.

  “How the hell is he shielding against all that?” Ray demanded, echoing my thoughts.

  “I don’t know, but he won’t be doing it long,” I said, threw Ray off and leaned over the railing to give Zheng a hand up.

  He weighed a ton because of all the armor, and his little electric arcs stung my skin. But he got a heavily booted foot on the finial of one of the columns supporting the balcony and vaulted up and over, landing heavily on the boards beside me. And then did a double take—twice.

  “What is that?” he demanded, looking at the Irin and then at me. “And what are you doing here?”

  “Dead angel and wishing I was someplace else,” I said, crawling past him to get to the mage. “How long can you hold?”

  The man said something rude and looked at Zheng. “Well?”

  “We’re losing,” was the dry reply. “Cut our losses on two ‘cause it wasn’t happening—”

  “Two?”

  “—and pulled my men and the remains of those things of yours back to protect the rest. But even so, it won’t hold. You?”

  “No better,” the mage gritted out. “I still don’t know who’s behind this; all I’ve done here is waste time!”

  “And save our asses,” Ray muttered. “Not that, you know, that matters.”

  “It won’t if we don’t get out of here,” I said, and I guess the Irin must have agreed. Because he was suddenly on the move, floating past Zheng, who drew back in alarm, through the railing and down to where the huge shield was hissing like a steam train. Maybe because a huge combo of vamps and mages—didn’t see that every day—were attacking it with everything they had.

  I didn’t know what the Irin was doing. It was hard to see through the gloom and the water vapor billowing from the mage’s rapidly disintegrating shields. But then one of the attackers’ spells went awry and smashed a hole in the roof, letting in a stream of rain-soaked moonlight. And I saw—

  What the hell?

  “What is he doing?” Ray demanded.

  I had no freaking idea.

  Zheng and the mage were having a hurried, low-voiced conversation that I really should have been listening to, but I was too busy watching the Irin. Who had just reached through the shield and grabbed a vamp, which was weird enough. But then he snatched him back through the ward, which—

  Yeah.

  Not healthy.

  “I thought angels were supposed to be the nice guys,” Ray whispered, staring at the smoking lump the Irin was now holding.

  “Fallen angels,” I reminded him. “And he’s had a bad day.”

  “Vamp’s having a worse one.” And he really, really was. Not only because half of him was still on the other side of the shield, while the rest was the color of charcoal and raw meat, but because— r />
  “Well, shit,” I whispered, while Ray made hurking noises.

  The Irin didn’t make any sound, or if he did, I couldn’t hear it over the attack. But I could see, and the Irin’s whole hand had just disappeared inside the vamp’s skull, causing the guy’s eyes to pop and run and his face to bulge as the Irin felt around in there, like he was looking for the best cookie in a jar. It was . . . well, disturbing falls kind of short.

  But I guess he found the cookie, because he suddenly withdrew the hand, dropped the twitching vamp, and spun.

  “Princeling!” he yelled, loud enough that the mage’s head popped up. And then it looked like he threw something, although I couldn’t see anything there. But the mage’s head snapped back as if he’d been hit, and the shield wavered and almost fell.

  He regained control—just—but for some reason, he didn’t complain. He just stood there, staring into space for a few seconds, before cursing loudly. And grabbing Zheng for another low-voiced conversation I didn’t hear, because the Irin was back, floating up to the railing where Ray and I were, but not stepping though.

  “You’re leaving,” I guessed.

  “I have no choice. I’ve been here too long as it is. But you do.”

  “I do . . . what?” I asked, confused and a little worried. Because the Irin was looking awfully intense.

  “We both know that you could get yourself and your servant out of here,” he told me.

  “But I need you to stay—”

  “And do what?” I demanded. “I’m out of weapons unless you count this,” I showed him the handgun I’d stolen off the mage. “And I somehow don’t think that’s going to be enough!”

  “Not to fight, no. But to run—”

  “No,” Ray said before I could, because if there’s one thing Ray is tops at, it’s survival. And it sounded like the Irin was gearing up to ask us to fall on our sword here.

  “—just long enough to lead them away from him,” he gestured at the mage.

  “He’s a war mage!” Ray said furiously. “I think he can take care of himself!”

  “It is not himself he’s worried about,” the Irin said, but his eyes never left mine. “I have just given Mage Pritkin the identity of the creature responsible for the mind control.”