Shadows and Gold

  “Fine,” she said. “Boundaries.”

  “Boundaries are good.”

  “I’m going to buy you some clothes.”

  “Clothes are good, too.”

  It was probably childish, but he smiled a little when she slammed the door.

  It was ten in the evening when the knock came. Ben was sitting in a small room off the courtyard, reading a book someone had brought him. It was a travel manual in French, but he could read a little of it. And something was better than nothing, especially with Tenzin ignoring him.

  He hadn’t seen her since their confrontation in his bedroom. She’d sent one of the women of the house to find clothes for him, so he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He was walking around barefoot, though. They couldn’t find any house slippers his size. He ignored the knock, but heard the women rushing through the courtyard to answer whoever might be calling.

  Ben was embarrassed by his anger, but not by anything else. He shouldn’t have lost his temper, but it was high time Tenzin stopped treating him like a child she could boss around. Yes, he still had a lot to learn, but he wasn’t Tenzin’s property or her employee. And if she continued the way she had been, she’d lose any and all respect for him.

  That wouldn’t be good for either of them.

  Tenzin needed a few people around who weren’t afraid of her. Most people were either so awed or so frightened that they treated her like a mythical being, not an actual person. He and his uncle had talked about it.

  Giovanni said the death of her mate, whatever their relationship had been, had opened Tenzin up in ways he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years. She’d become more human. More aware of the world around her. Less remote. More curious.

  Ben didn’t want her to lose that. Ever. The older the vampire, the more removed they usually were from the world around them. And however complicated their relationship might be, Tenzin was one of his best friends. He didn’t want to lose her to the cold distance of immortality.

  “You must be the human,” a voice said from the doorway.

  Ben looked up. “You must be the pirate.”

  Of course he would look like a pirate. Of course. The vampire he assumed must be Cheng was of medium height and medium build, but his body was lean and his face must have been very tan in life. He was ruddy looking, even as pale as he was. He had a rakish grin and spoke in perfect English. He wore a trimmed beard and his shirt was open at the throat. He even had shoulder-length hair pulled back by what looked like a leather strap.

  “All you’re missing is the eyepatch,” Ben said.

  “You know, it wasn’t because we were missing eyes.” Cheng toed off his shoes and sat down in the low chair across from Ben. “It was a battle tactic. A way of making sure our vision could adjust quickly going from full light on deck to darkness below. I believe military special forces often use the same technique even today.”

  And he seemed cool, too. Asshole.

  Ben held out a hand. “Benjamin Vecchio.”

  The pirate took it. “Cheng. Just Cheng.”

  “Like Cher?”

  He leaned back and threw one hand up in the air in a flourish. “I prefer Madonna.”

  Ben couldn’t stop the smile. “Is she expecting you here?”

  “She knows I know of this place. So probably yes.” Cheng looked around. “This is a comfortable house. Its mistress is under the direct protection of her sire. She knows I would respect that.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes.” Cheng smiled, his fangs sneaking down. “I’m reckless. Not stupid.”

  “Hmm.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Ben didn’t speak, but he didn’t keep reading his book, either. The two men sat across from each other, drinking the tea that Jinpa had brought and sneaking measuring glances at each other.

  “Jonathan told me you were her lover,” Cheng said. “This surprised me, so I wanted to meet you. Obviously you are not.”

  “Oh?” Cheng could assume whatever he wanted. Ben wouldn’t say either way until he heard from Tenzin. Where the hell was she, anyway?

  “I do know you’re the nephew of the two scholars from California. You’re gathering your own quiet reputation in our world. I noticed. Somewhat impressive for a human.”

  “Is that so?” He sipped his tea. “How audacious of me.”

  Cheng burst into laughter. “I can see why she likes you.”

  “Why are you here?”

  His eyes flashed. “To see my woman, of course.”

  “I’m here.”

  She spoke from behind him, but Ben forced himself not to turn. Tenzin walked around the couch and Cheng rose as she approached. His friendly gaze turned predatory as their eyes met, and Cheng whispered something only vampire ears would be able to hear.

  Tenzin walked up to him and rose on her toes, kissing him full on the mouth as Cheng wrapped an arm around her waist. The kiss went on long enough that Ben forced his eyes away.

  “I missed you, cricket.”

  Ben looked back. Cheng’s hand was on Tenzin’s cheek and she held the front of his shirt, clutching it in her hands.

  She said, “I missed you, too.”

  “You wait too long to visit me.”

  “And you never visit me, so you cannot complain.”

  Cheng shrugged and smoothed a hand over Tenzin’s hair. “You know how busy I am. And I do not want to intrude.”

  “I will tell you if you are unwelcome.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “I know you will.” His eyes flicked to Ben. “Your human is interesting.”

  Tenzin finally looked at him. Their eyes met over her shoulder and locked. The stormy grey was cold again. He met her gaze, chin lifted, and forced a small smile to his lips.

  She turned her eyes back to Cheng. “He’s not my human. Come, we’ll speak on your boat.”

  He’s not my human.

  It was exactly the point he was trying to make. And somehow, it still stung.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tenzin ignored the laughter in Cheng’s eyes as he guided her to the small vessel he’d used to reach Jinpa’s home.

  “What is going on there?” he asked.

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  They both sat, Tenzin in the bow and Cheng at the stern. He put a hand in the water and used his amnis to force the boat away from the dock. They drifted slowly out into the moonlit canal, then farther to the lake. She watched with pleasure as he stripped off the shirt he’d put on to visit the house and held out his arms.

  “Come.”

  She floated to him and settled between his legs as Cheng slid down and arranged the pillows he’d brought to cushion their bodies from the wooden hull of the ship. He’d been a man of the sea as a human, but one who liked comfort. To this day, his quarters were lush with silk cushions and down-filled blankets. He collected riches from all over the world, not simply to cache them as she did. No, Cheng enjoyed luxury.

  His bare arms settled along her shoulders. “When was the last time you were touched?” He held up a hand when her mouth opened. “And don’t lie about that boy. I know you haven’t been with him.”

  She thought about Ben’s brash anger in his bedroom. About the weight of his body over hers. The taste of his blood and skin. She pushed the thought away.

  “The last time I saw you.” She allowed her head to rest on his chest. Allowed her back to arch as his fingers stroked along her spine. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Years, cricket.” He brushed the braids away from her neck and kissed her there, his fangs carefully pulled back. She’d never allowed him to bite her. “You must not go so long between visits if I’m the only one you trust this way.”

  “You assume, Cheng.”

  “We’ve both seen what happens when the old ones become too removed from life.”

  “I don’t like it when you lump me in with them.”

  “You’re better,” he murmured, still touching her. He was a tactile man, and sh
e suspected he always had been. She allowed it because a part of her knew he was right. “Before Stephen—”

  “I’m better. I don’t want to talk about Stephen.”

  “Do you ever mention his name to anyone else? Or only me?”

  On the boat, like this, they were honest with each other. Their bodies and minds accepting. Cheng had always preferred to have her that way. The water at his back and the wind at hers. Perfect congress, he called it. The wind upon the waves. She couldn’t count the number of times he’d taken her in the water.

  “I’m tired of talking about Stephen,” she said. “Touch me and don’t speak, or I’ll go back to the house.”

  He chuckled. “So bossy. I’m not the one who angered you. Don’t take it out on me.”

  “Fine. You may speak. But not about Stephen.”

  “Benjamin Vecchio, then.”

  She scowled and called up a gust of wind, knocking him out of the boat and into the water. When he rose above the surface, he was laughing.

  “Oh, I missed you, cricket.” Cheng climbed back in the boat. “Tell me your stories. Who have you fought lately? Other than the three idiots in Kashgar.”

  “They tried to bury me and steal my gold. I only intended to kill two of them, but the other tried to bite Ben. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Who did they belong to?”

  “Someone named Aqpasha.”

  Cheng frowned. “This surprises me. Aqpasha isn’t a bad sort. Just young. His people are inexperienced, but not unintelligent.”

  “I did him a favor then, to kill the ones who were.”

  “Curious.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve had some dealing with him. And you are not unknown. He’s rough. Young. But he’s exhibited a canny ability to give lip service to the Elders without endangering himself or his sphere of influence.” He stroked a hand down his face, squeezing the water from his beard. “This disregard for you surprises me. Perhaps they were rogues.”

  “I don’t really care that much.”

  “I do. A power vacuum in Xinjiang could cause a political shift. Arosh has been very quiet in the west, but I’ve heard rumors that make me think he is waking.”

  “I’d be more concerned about your own people.”

  His hands froze on her shoulders. “Who?”

  “Kesan.”

  He turned her around. “Why?”

  She liked that about him. Cheng didn’t automatically dismiss her because she wasn’t as familiar with his people. He was smart and always willing to use her as a resource if it worked to his advantage. It was one of the most attractive things about him.

  “It was the way he watched Ben in Ürümqi. Ben spoke up, but Kesan had already noticed him. Had already decided to mention the human with me. How many times did he mention that I’d brought a human lover with me to China?”

  “Several.”

  “And how many times did Jonathan?”

  “None. Jonathan knows what you do is none of his business unless it affects me.”

  “Jonathan is loyal. His interest is in making sure his sire is well cared for and protected. Kesan is looking for weaknesses and wanted to see what kind of reaction you’d have to the idea of me bringing a lover. He hoped to provoke you to jealousy. Did he?”

  The corner of his mouth curled up. “I can’t tell you all my secrets, can I?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Kesan.” She turned and pulled off her tunic, leaning her bare back against his chest. “We can speak of it later.” She took Cheng’s hands and crossed them over her front, breathing in his scent. The old familiar feel of his arms. The blood that still pulsed in his veins when he was aroused. She felt his heart beat once against her cheek.

  Tenzin couldn’t remember the last time her heart had moved.

  “What are you doing in Los Angeles, Tenzin?” he murmured as he lifted her arm and laid a kiss along the sensitive skin of her wrist. “What occupies you there?”

  “Let me guess. You think I should be here with you.”

  “Yes.” He curled over her, molding Tenzin’s body to his. “With you as my consort, we would be unstoppable. Ancient and modern. No one could challenge us.”

  “I hate Shanghai.”

  “I wouldn’t ask for your blood,” he said, ignoring her. “We are not that. But I care for you. You know this. We could do such great things.”

  “I like America.”

  “You have to be bored out of your mind.”

  “I’m not. I have good friends there.”

  “Like Benjamin Vecchio?”

  “Yes.”

  She could feel him smile against her back. “Then why didn’t you simply call him your friend?”

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Was he trying to irritate her?

  “Kiss me,” she said. “Or I’ll fly back to the house.”

  Cheng shook with silent laughter, but he kissed her. His lips were firm on her back. Tenzin turned her face to take his mouth and she could feel the scrape of his beard on her skin.

  Lovely.

  Tenzin forgot about everything while she kissed him. The rough texture of his beard against her mouth grounded her. Her mind was anchored in her body. She felt every nerve ending. Every stretch of her muscle and bone, bending for him. Moving in concert with Cheng’s body.

  This was what she’d been missing.

  Too often, her mind broke free. Too often, she felt the black night dissolve her from the inside out, as if she had lost the substance of herself and existed only in her element.

  “Be with me here,” Cheng whispered. “In this moment. Are you with me, cricket?”

  “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes and let her body exist in his hands. For just a little while, she could be his.

  Tenzin was soaked to the skin when she returned to the house. Her face was flushed. From what, he didn’t choose to think about.

  Ben took one look at her and stood. “I wanted to apologize for losing my temper.”

  Her eyes held nothing. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. Some kind of acknowledgement. Some acceptance. Something?

  Nothing.

  Well, he’d tried.

  “Good night,” Ben said, turning to walk back to his room.

  “Ben.”

  He stopped, but didn’t turn. “What?”

  “I accept your apology and offer one of my own. You are correct. You are not a child.”

  He turned. “No, I’m not.”

  Tenzin cocked her head. “To be fair, I have never thought of you as one, even when I probably should have.”

  “When was that? When I was sixteen? I was already driving, paying bills, and killing people when I was sixteen.”

  “I suspect you were no more of a child at sixteen than I was.”

  What had her life been? Ben wondered if anyone knew. Did Cheng know? Had she confided in Stephen, her dead mate? Giovanni or Beatrice? Was there anyone who understood the wells of darkness behind her eyes?

  Tenzin stepped closer, and Ben’s eyes scanned the darkness of the courtyard behind her.

  “He’s not here,” she said. “He went back to the city.”

  “Nice visit?”

  “A necessary one.”

  All sorts of sarcastic retorts rang in his head, but he kept his mouth shut. It was none of his business.

  He looked away. “If we don’t need to go anywhere tonight, I should go to sleep. I’m still catching up.”

  Tenzin took a step closer. From the corner of his eye he watched her. Saw her eyes fall to his neck, where the marks she’d healed were still an angry red.

  “Do you want to be my friend or my lover, Benjamin?”

  He blinked. “What—“

  “When I introduce you to Cheng’s people tomorrow,” she said, as cool grey eyes met his own. “When we are traveling together. You do not want to be known as my human, which is acceptable, but leaves you in an unknown role. So, friend or
lover?”

  He knew she would lie to suit herself. Knew it was only a question of how he wanted to be presented in her world. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. Still…

  “Friend,” he said in a low voice. “Always your friend.”

  She nodded and moved to walk by him. Ben caught her wrist, bothered that the last time he’d touched her had been in anger.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her closer.

  “Ben—”

  “For me. Come here.”

  She only came up to his chest, but he leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, not caring about the damp clothes or her soaking-wet hair. He just needed her to know.

  “Your friend. Always.”

  She didn’t raise her arms. Didn’t return the hug. It was okay, Ben told himself. It wasn’t about that. He held her for a few more moments and felt a single beat from her heart before he let go. He stepped back, brushed a thumb over her cheek, and tried to ignore the blank expression on her face.

  “Good night, Tenzin.”

  When he woke the next afternoon, the sun still slanted through the windows of his room. Ben took a moment to open his blinds, lean out the window, and enjoy the view.

  This, he thought, was the China of postcards and kung fu movies.

  Sloping tile rooftops and willows hanging over the water. Boats filled the canal below his window, their pilots calling and laughing to each other as everything moved through the water. Fruits and vegetables. Bags of fish. One boat full of what looked like piles of laundry.

  Then there were the tourists. So many tourists. Mostly Chinese. The now-familiar sounds of Mandarin echoed through the air. Ben thought he was starting to recognize a few of the different accents; the native population of the lively water town was easy to understand.

  Zhujiajiao was one of the few river towns that had lasted into the twenty-first century. Graceful stone bridges arched over the main canals that ran through the town. It still got by without cars or motorbikes, mostly because of the patronage of the many tourists who visited from Shanghai. There were a few streets he’d visited the night before that hawked the regular tourist junk, but they were clustered near the main bridge. It was easy to lose the crowds on quieter streets like the one where Jinpa’s house was located.