“Go to the were-tiger village,” Jia suggested. “There is a doctor there who can return you to normal. You’ll no longer belong to Darafer.”

“Really?” The second soldier exchanged a hopeful look with his comrades.

“We’ll leave right away.” The first soldier eased to his feet and handed Jia a ring of keys. “So you can unlock the boy’s cell.”

Russell released his grip on the soldier he’d been holding. The men grabbed the truck keys off the table and helped get the sleeping and unconscious guards up the stairs and out the door.

Jia gave Russell a worried look. “Should we trust them? What if this is a trap?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Russell drew his sword and eased open the other door. It led to a stair landing. No one in sight. He hurried down the stairs with Jia close behind.

“I can smell Han,” she whispered. “I think he lives down here.”

They moved quietly along a corridor lined with doors. At the end of the hallway, Jia paused in front of a heavy door. “This is Han’s room. His scent is strong here.”

Russell tried opening the door, but it was sealed shut. “He must teleport in and out.”

She leaned close, sniffing. “He’s not here now.”

“Let’s find the boy then.” Russell headed down a narrow flight of stairs.

The third floor below ground was dimly lit with only one tube of fluorescent lighting, which tended to flicker. The air was thick and stale, the stone floor coated with dust. The area wasn’t large. One wall was stone, with manacles fastened into it. Probably for chaining a prisoner to the wall for a good whipping. There were bloodstains on the wall and floor.

The opposite wall contained four small prison cells. They were dark, but Russell spotted something huddled against the back wall of the second cell.

“Xiao Fang?” He sheathed his sword, then put his hands on the bars. His skin sizzled, and he quickly let go. Silver. With a wince, he flexed his seared fingers. Han had put the boy in a silver cage to keep any Vamps from teleporting in or breaking through.

“Are you all right?” Jia asked.

“Yeah.” He reached in his pocket for some heavy gloves. “Unlock the door.”

Jia tried one key after another on the heavy padlock. “Xiao Fang, is that you? We’ve come to rescue you.”

As Russell slipped on his gloves, he saw the huddled mass straighten. It was the boy, standing at the back of the cave. “It’s all right,” Russell reassured him. “We’ll take you to Tiger Town. Neona is there. And Winifred. You can talk to her, right?”

The boy eased forward slowly. When he came into view, Russell winced at the bruises on the kid’s face. There was a cut along one of his cheekbones and dried blood on his swollen lips. The poor kid was probably afraid to trust them.

Jia unlocked the door and swung it open. The boy took a hesitant step forward.

She smiled at him. “I’m a shifter, too. A were-tiger. I teach martial arts, and one of my students really wanted to rescue you himself. His name is Norjee, and he calls you his brother.”

A wheezing sound escaped from Xiao Fang. He ran straight to Jia and wrapped his arms around her. She held him tight and looked up at Russell with tears in her eyes.

Russell’s heart expanded. He hadn’t known he could still feel this much joy. He tousled the boy’s hair. If only he’d rescued the boy a week ago when he’d had the chance. But he’d opted for revenge instead. He’d chosen hate over love. Never would he make that mistake again.

“How touching,” a muffled voice announced from the top of the stairs.

Russell spun around as he drew his sword. “Stay behind me,” he whispered to Jia and the boy.

Han stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in a red silk robe. The fluorescent light flickered off his golden mask and the golden sheath attached to his belt. “I’ve been waiting for you to find me, Russell.”

“You . . . know me?” Russell frowned. There was something familiar about the way Han said his name. And the golden sheath was at least a foot long. That had to be one badass dagger.

Han chuckled. “Of course I know you. You bear my mark. I chose you.”

“You left me to rot in a cave for thirty-nine years.”

Han waved a dismissive hand. “You didn’t rot. The other men did, but I was very careful with you.” He descended the stairs slowly. “I checked on you every three months. About once a year, I would feed you a few drops of my blood to keep you healthy.”

“Healthy? I was in a coma! For thirty-nine years.”

Han shook his head. “An insignificant amount of time when you can live forever. But I was quite shocked and disheartened when I discovered you were missing. After all, you belong to me.”

“Never,” Russell growled, lifting his sword. “I’m killing you tonight.”

Han shook his head. “There have been so many times when I could have killed you. Did you never wonder why I didn’t?” He paused on the bottom step. “When we took you and your foolish friends captive, I made sure no harm came to you. Even when you killed Lord Ming, I made no move to stop you.”

A sick feeling settled in Russell’s gut, but he ignored it. Han was just playing some sort of mind game. “You’re a bastard. You deserve to die.”

“Why? Because I have the balls to take over the world? You will rule the world with me, Russell. As my underling, of course, but still, it is your destiny to be by my side.”




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