Lung looked down at his knees and nodded.
“Did I not save you from the boiling pot and nurse you back to health?”
Another bob of the head.
“Then remember to whom you owe fealty and keep your claws sheathed until I order you otherwise!” she screeched.
He didn’t speak to her again.
“So Lung is superstitious enough to jeopardize their entire setup over a five-hundred-year-old prophecy, and Pengfei is our real target,” I said. “Does that about sum it up?”
“Not quite,” said Vayl. “Samos still remains part of the picture. We cannot discount his influence even if we cannot see him.”
“We still need to get my armor back,” Bergman said fearfully, as if we would consider leaving his baby behind.
“Yes, of course,” said Vayl. “Unfortunately it will not be coming off Lung tonight.” He gave Bergman a tired smile. “Li ate the snail.”
“I saw.” Bergman’s shoulders slumped. “I never thought about Lung having a food taster. Who does that anymore?”
“People who’ve been around a lot longer than you and me,” I told him.
“There is a silver lining,” said Cassandra. “I recognized Li. He sleeps in one of the rooms with a camera, so you’ll still be able to see if the pill works as you designed it to.”
We all looked at her.
“Cassandra?” I asked. “Is this you? Looking on the bright side?”
“Go Jericho,” Cole murmured.
“Uh-oh.” Bergman’s comment brought our eyes back to the TV. Pengfei had worked herself into a real tizzy by now. She leaned into Li’s face, screaming, spraying spit, her fangs in clear view as her lips drew back in a furious snarl. Suddenly she pounced. Being more of a runner than a fighter, Li put up only token resistance as she buried her teeth in his throat. At the same time her claws sank into his chest and within moments he began to seize. Her strength alone kept him sitting upright as she bled him, her nails stabbing into him repeatedly, piercing every organ she could reach.
He lived a long time. And we stood, horrified spectators as she tortured him while Lung looked on, quietly waiting for her to finish. Finally she tore his chest open and pulled his heart out, reducing the gore to a dusting of ash and a puff of smoke. It reminded me so much of the reaver’s grisly work that I wondered if there was some connection. Could she have been one? Known one?
“Sorry, Bergman.” Cole clapped him on the back. “Guess you don’t get to see the pill work after all.” He was trying for that I’m-a-normal-guy tone, but the undertone said,
I watched him, pressing my lips together so I wouldn’t yell at him for signing onto this insanity in the first place. Idiot. Now he’d never be the same.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
As the violence on the TV screen dissipated we all moved away from the counter, each looking for a way to insert some sense of normality into our atmosphere. Cole and Bergman set up a game of chess at the table. Cassandra spent some time digging in her purse, an olive-green, bead-covered monstrosity, before emerging with a book of crossword puzzles. I opened the refrigerator. What did I expect to see? Eggs? Bacon? There they stood in a line, just as the five of us had at the counter. Clear plastic bags full of blood. I leaned in. Did Vayl prefer a certain brand? O Positive? Plasma Lite?
“Looking for something?” asked Vayl quietly.
I jumped, banging my head against the rim of the door.
“Is your head all right?” he asked.
“Let me see.”
“No.”
Slanting of the eyebrows. Translation—
“Go on, Jaz,” said Cole as he took Bergman’s rook with his bishop. “You could have a concussion or something.”
Vayl reached for my head. “I’m fine!” I snapped as I jerked back, banging it into the freezer door.
“Okay, now I’m not,” I said, rubbing both sore spots. But suddenly I was. I began to grin. “Vayl, I’ve got it.”
Concern poured from his eyes. “What is it, a migraine?”
“Would you stop worrying? It’s going to make you crazy!” I skirted him and went to the guys at the table. “Bergman, I need to watch the footage of Pengfei lecturing Lung and Li again.”
“Can it wait a sec? It’s my move.”
I grabbed his queen, slid her eight spaces forward, and told Cole, “Checkmate.”
