Dead Harvest

  'Look, the cops musta tracked us to where we were staying – they were waiting for me when I got back. I was able to keep her out of custody, but we were supposed to meet up after, and she never showed.'

  Merihem looked me up and down. 'I guess that explains the new vessel. Police issue, no doubt?'

  'Not that it matters, but yeah.'

  'And your girl – she just up and disappears? Sounds like the actions of an innocent to me.' His tone dripped sarcasm.

  'There were extenuating circumstances.'

  'Of course there were,' he said.

  'Merihem, I have to find her.'

  'I should say so.'

  'I kind of called you here to help me.'

  'That's funny – I thought you called me here so I could report on the last favor you asked of me. It seems our friendship is a costly one, Collector. Costly and dangerous.'

  I ignored the jibe. 'Are you gonna help me or not?'

  'Do you truly mean to take her?'

  'I don't know,' I admitted.

  'That's simply not good enough.'

  'Damn it, Merihem, what if I'm right? What if this girl isn't meant to be taken? Am I supposed to just ignore what I've seen? To collect the girl like nothing ever happened and go on about my merry way?'

  'What's the alternative? The balance must be maintained. If you're wrong, then this girl's fate is sealed. Refusing to take her would be seen as an act of war. Are you really willing to risk all that because Sam fucking Thornton had an idea?'

  'I guess I am.'

  'Such hubris your species suffers from. No matter – if you fail to collect the girl, I'm sure they'll send another.'

  At that, I bristled. 'Let them.'

  'Ah, yes – ever the protector. Good to see you haven't changed. And who knows? Perhaps you'll get lucky and dispatch the first they send her way. The second, even. But the third? The tenth? The thousandth? This game can't last forever. In the end, they'll get what they came for, and you'll get what you deserve.'

  'Then I guess we're done here.' I turned on my heel and headed back toward the open gate.

  'Sam, wait.' I hesitated, not turning around. Merihem continued. 'There's a man in Chinatown named Wai- Sun. He runs an antique shop on Eldridge.'

  'And?'

  'Wai-Sun specializes in arcane objects – items of singular power. Weapons, talismans, and the like. He may be able to help you find what you're looking for.'

  'Thank you, Merihem.'

  'You understand the position you're putting me in by even meeting with you – I can't be seen as party to your sedition. If I see you again, I'll kill you myself. And Sam?'

  'Yes?'

  'Be certain that I don't.'

13.

The bell above the door jangled as I stepped inside Shangdi Antiques on Eldridge. My sinuses prickled with the spicy scent of old wood and the dust of times gone by. The shop itself was tiny, and its wares were stacked atop each other at random, creating an accidental labyrinth whose walls remained standing in sheer defiance of the laws of physics and common sense. The sign in the window read 'Rare Objects Our Specialty!' I hoped that it was true. Eldridge, it turned out, had no shortage of antique shops. This was the third place I'd visited today, and so far, I hadn't found any Wai-Sun. I couldn't help but think that Kate was running out of time.

  'Can I help you?'

  The call came from somewhere deep within the stacks, the English unaccented but nevertheless spoken with the melodic tones of one for whom Mandarin is his native tongue. I traced the voice back through the narrow winding aisle, nearly toppling an ancient bamboo birdcage in the process. I emerged to find a man standing behind the cluttered antique desk that served as the store's counter and polishing a small lacquered box with an oiled rag. He was short and stout, clad in a worn blue button-down and a dusty pair of suit pants. Thin wisps of white hair lay across his pate in a halfhearted comb-over. As I approached, he set aside the box and smiled.

  'I hope so,' I replied. 'I'm looking for a man named Wai-Sun.'

  His smile faltered. 'And what, pray tell, do you want of this Wai-Sun?'

  'I've lost something, and I was hoping he could help me find it.'

  He gestured toward the piles of antiques surrounding us. 'As you can see, we carry here a great many things – I am certain whatever it is you're looking for, we can find for you a suitable replacement.'

  'What I'm looking for is a girl.'

  Something flickered in his eyes. Fear? Suspicion? 'I don't understand,' he said.

  'I think you do.'