By the Horns (10 page)

She yanked her hand out of his to pump her arms harder. He followed suit, increasing his pace.

Two blocks later, she dodged into an alleyway. “Up.” She snatched the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder and climbed. He pushed her bottom and hefted his body after her.

Instead of ascending straight to the roof, Nat paused at the fifth story, crept onto the ledge, and climbed straight through an open window.

He couldn’t call her back—that would draw attention to them—but he hoped like hell the apartment’s occupant didn’t own a gun. Clambering in after her, he cursed as he stumbled through the sheer curtains and got tangled in them. He ripped the sheets apart, tossed them on the ground, and stomped on them.

“Are you finished? Because we have bigger problems than a set of curtains.” Nat perched her hands on her waist, fingers of one hand tapping her hip.

“You gonna fill me in on what those problems are? Who was that at the tea shoppe?”

She didn’t answer as she scouted out the apartment, veering into a room. He mimicked her, scanning the tiny, empty flat.

“No one’s home.” She appeared back from the room, but continued to pace with an uncharacteristic restlessness.

He stalked to the apartment door, twisting the lock open.

She bolted to his side and slapped her hand atop his. “We can’t leave yet.”

“Why the fuck not? Are you proposing we wait for the owner to return and shoot us?”

She huffed. “For such a big guy, you’re a real pussy. No one’s going to shoot us. Well, not the owner, at least.” She added the last under her breath.

How reassuring. “There’s a difference between cowardly and a strong survival instinct. I personally don’t wish to be shot today due to trespassing.”

“This place is safe. Snake led me here.”

“And? What happened at the tea shoppe?”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “The owner gave us away, that’s what.”

“To who?”

“That’s not important.” She shrugged and dropped her hand.

He lifted his brow, but she didn’t elaborate, so he plunked onto the sofa and propped his crossed boots on the table. Linking his fingers behind his head, he reclined and closed his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? We have to wait here, and since you’re tongue-tied, I’m going to get some shut-eye. Didn’t sleep a damn wink on the plane.”

Yeah, but she had. Her head had rested on his shoulder the whole trip, contributing to his lack of dreamtime.

“Well, make yourself at home.” Her tiny foot tapped the linoleum. He tried to tune her out by focusing on his other senses, but the sofa’s musty odor didn’t help. Neither did the lump cutting into his back that, no matter how much he shifted, wouldn’t soften.

“Dammit.” He leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. Yawning, he surveyed the room again, which had gone far too quiet. “Nat?”

She didn’t answer. In this tiny hellhole, where could she be hiding?

Chapter 8

Nat intercepted the elderly woman in the hallway. The thin wiry threads of her grayscale hair had been combed back into a bun, and her baggy red sweater hung off her thin-boned frame. Around four feet tall, the mid-seventies woman jolted, clutching her oversized purse to her chest. Her gnarled fingers curled around the bag, and her gaze darted from Nat to her apartment door. Behind thick glasses, her sharp black eyes flashed in suspicion.

“
Néih hóu.
” Nat dipped her head and held her hands at her sides, palms outward, to display no intention of harm.

The woman eyed her before returning the greeting. Nat treaded forward. A surge of energy coiled inside her torso, lending her confidence. She continued in Cantonese. “My fiancé and I are in trouble. Please, will you help us?”

Snake slithered inside her. The woman watched her, and slowly, her wrinkled face scrunched into a smile. Could she tell Nat hosted the Snake? Few humans were aware of the Chosen, but this woman might be.

“My name is Natalie.” She extended her hand. The woman clutched her hand and patted it, introducing herself as “Mrs. Chen” and muttering the word “Snake.”
Aha!

The lady uttered a guttural compliance before she brushed past Nat and clucked for her to step inside the apartment.

Weird, but easy. She’d take it. Hosting a spirit animal came with some awesome perks.

As Nat passed through, she smacked straight into a wall.
Omph!
Wait, not a wall. A chest—Kassian’s.

“There you are. Where the hell have you— Oh,
néih hóu.”
He inclined his head at the elderly woman, then faced her and mouthed,
holy shit
. She shut his gaping mouth, patted his cheek, and followed the little old lady into the galley kitchen.

“
Yum cha?
” Mrs. Chen set the pot of hot water to boil. The taking of tea wasn’t a choice. Nat just hoped the lady didn’t intend to poison them. She waved for Nat and Kassian to sit at the small round table in the dining space.

Nat rubbed the back of her neck, eyebrows bobbing toward the table for Kassian to do as told.

He frowned at her but, at the elderly woman, he flashed an enormous grin before settling his large body in a tiny wooden chair. Nat suppressed a laugh as he attempted, without success, to fit in the chair. Half his ass hung off the seat.

She slid into the one opposite him. They had to lay low for a while here. This woman’s cooperation was paramount, so Nat shot him a scowl.
Don’t mess this up, you ass.

He retorted, throwing a hand to his chest, as though to say, “Who, me? You’re the genius with the brilliant plan.”

Mrs. Chen shuffled to the table and placed the tea tray on the lazy Susan. She hummed the words “Snake” and “Ox,” cast them an approving smile, and poured tea into three porcelain cups. Aha. Mrs. Chen was on their side. Snake’s instincts proved right.

As she set the cups on the table in front of them, Nat tapped the tabletop with the front two fingers of her right hand—the gesture was a polite thank you. The older woman offered her a stained-toothed smile.

“
M goi.”
Nat thanked her and kicked Kassian under the table until he parroted her words.

“
Mh'sái haak-hei
.” Mrs. Chen waved for them to drink.

Kassian pinched the tiny teacup in his thick fingers as though he feared shattering it. “Bottoms up, eh?” He brought the rim to his lips, blew to dissipate the steam, and gulped. “Holy—” He choked and Nat sent him another swift kick under the table. “That’s…” He scrunched his nose, his throat hoarse as he hissed, “delicious.
Mmm
. You try some, Nat.” He planted his foot on top of hers to stop her from kicking him again.

Nat narrowed her eyes at him as she raised the rim to her mouth and sipped the pungent liquid. Sweet, salty, and sour. Tasted like
Suanmeitang
, a traditional cooling tea. Forcing her features in a collected mask, she smiled at their host. “Sour plums and licorice root?” she asked in Cantonese.

The woman grinned, elaborating a few other ingredients.

“What did she say,
darling
?” Kassian waggled his brows.

Nat fought against blanching at Kassian’s use of the endearment. If she couldn’t keep up the ruse in front of a harmless old woman, how would she do so in front of far more nefarious individuals?

“She said to drink up,
sweetheart
.”

The woman continued talking and Nat listened, inclining her head while biting her cheek to stifle a laugh. “She asked when our wedding is.”

“Huh, why?”

“So she can prepare you a, uh, well, a special tea for
stamina
.” She leaned forward and winked.

Kassian wheezed on another sip of tea, pounding his chest. “Well, thank her for the concern, but I have no problems in that department.”

“Oh
darling
, I can’t refuse her offer. She’d lose face.” Refusing a gift from a Chinese person was like setting up a public billboard humiliating them, causing them to “lose face”—respectability. She smirked across the table as Kassian adjusted his pants, likely to reassure himself of his masculinity, which this tiny old woman questioned.

“Hey, you don’t have to prove it to me.” Nat held her hands up in a no-threat gesture. “But Mrs. Chen might require a demonstration of your skills.”

***

Kassian glared at Nat. She was having far too much fun with this. Making him chug this nasty-ass tea. He wasn’t convinced Mrs. Chen hadn’t spit in his. While she seemed to take a liking to Nat, she did nothing but gape at him and insult his virility.

Minutes of awkward silence ticked by while they choked down their tea. Hell, if it wasn’t poisoned. He wouldn’t put it past the conniving old woman. How could the tea taste both bitter and cloyingly sweet at the same time?
Uck.
He’d never go near prunes for the rest of his life.

The only saving grace was that the tea washed down the stale biscuits Mrs. Chen had shoveled onto his plate. He tugged at his tie, loosening it. The lady’s spritely gaze darted straight to his neck and passed leisurely down his body. She shifted to Nat and spoke.

Nat replied and translated for him. “You’re welcome to take a shower and change your clothes.” She pointed to the duffle on the living room floor and then swept her hand toward the bathroom. “Go easy on the hot water. Maintenance hasn’t gotten around to fixing her heater box yet.”

While he was happy to clean up after the long flight, they seemed too eager to get rid of him. Bullshit, since he didn’t even speak the language. They could say anything in front of him. He was on edge, suspicious of everyone. Still, he complied. Nothing better to do.

He uttered a thank you, plucked the duffle off the floor, and stomped into the bathroom.

Kassian opened the stall and grimaced. Damn, it was tiny. Made for dwarves. Groaning, he stripped off his clothes, flicked on the water, and ventured under the spray.

“Fuck.” His curse echoed off the walls, and he prayed the women hadn’t heard him.

The door flew open, Nat’s form framing the doorway. “What’s wro—” She broke into a fit of snickers. “That’s a good look for you. Enjoying your, um, spray bath?”

Yeah, so he had to kneel to fit below the showerhead. In the cramped stall, he could barely maneuver his body around to clean off.

“Laugh all you like, sweetheart, but I’m using up the hot water.” He tapped the heater box on the side of the stall. Already, he’d drained most of it. By the time he finished, Nat would have a nice icy shower.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“Already done, darling. Unless, of course, you care to join me?
Hmm
? Share what’s left of the hot water, make some steam of our own?” He winked.

“You bastard.” She tapped her foot. “If there wasn’t a sweet little old lady who’d die of a heart attack if I did, you’d regret your offer.”

She whirled and stormed out of the room, firmly shutting the door.

He chuckled and rinsed off, tilting his face into the warm spray until the water sputtered cold. That’d show her.

What would he have done if she’d taken him up on his offer? Damn. His cock twitched, and he glanced down to find his body aroused. His erection jutted out, undeterred by the frigid water.

“Dammit.” He gripped his length, sliding his hand toward the tip and giving himself a good, hard squeeze.

He groaned. His head planted forward against the tiles. He hadn’t pleasured himself in years. His vow of chastity, along with the
qi
energy he’d lose from expelling semen, kept his body in a heightened state of energy. Power. Enlightenment.

After spending years stumbling blindly from one sexual conquest to another, he’d found clarity. Sure, he missed the euphoria, but the bliss of an orgasm was momentary compared to the continuous buzz of energy that spiraled through his body.

Sighing, he switched off the water and grabbed a towel. He hadn’t been tempted in three years.
Nat’s fault
. Her suggestive offers. That kiss.

Damn that kiss.

He dried and tugged on his pants, stuffing his dick inside, waging war with the erection that wouldn’t abate. “Not worth it,” he grated to his disobedient hard-on. One moment of ecstasy wouldn’t equate the stores of
qi
energy he’d lose.

If he jacked off, he’d be shackled with the same feeling mindless fucking always left him with.

Emptiness.

He wasn’t a monk, but after this mission ended, he seriously considered dropping his earthly possessions, shaving his head, and joining the throng of orange robes at Kek Lok Si.

Sheng would call him out, declaring him a coward hiding from his problems behind a monk’s vows. He might be right, but Sheng never had it this rough. The man did whatever he wanted and to hell with the consequences.

Such careless freedom wasn’t in the cards for Kassian. Unlike Sheng, he suffered a driving urge to atone for his years of blasphemous living. To set his past behind him.

To wipe his soul clean.

He glanced down and sighed. Compliance, at last. After yanking a black T-shirt over his head, he stepped out of the bathroom.

Nat and the old woman bent their heads together as if in conspiracy. He frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken so long. Damned hot water dare.