Russell stepped back to teleport away. “Later.”
“Wait!” J.L. held up a hand. “We need to know more. Is Han still in Myanmar?”
“He left.” Russell scowled. “There’s no telling where he is now. And he had the dragon boy with him.”
“Xiao Fang?” Rajiv asked. “Is he all right?”
“He appeared to be.”
“Let me get you a sat phone,” J.L. said. “The next time you see Han—”
“I have a phone.”
“But the charge—”
“It’s fine.” Russell visualized his underground lair, ready to teleport there. Our secret hideout, the princess had called it. Was it true what she had said? “Is she really a prisoner?”
Rajiv glanced in the direction of the houses next to the courtyard. Jia had disappeared down one of the narrow alleys. “She’s exaggerating. She’s free to go about Tiger Town as she wishes.”
Tiger Town was small. Russell tamped down on the anger that still sizzled inside him. How dare they keep down a fighting spirit like hers?
“If she still wants to visit the were-tigers in Thailand, I’ll teleport her there,” J.L. offered.
Russell snorted. Did the fools think she wanted to babysit? She was probably sharpening her knives right now and planning her escape. She had one thing on her mind—killing Han.
And he needed to beat her to it. Russell teleported away.
Jia slid the bolt across her door. The last thing she needed now was someone barging in while she checked on her hidden stash of weapons. She dashed across the dark room and opened the shutters to the back window. It had been overcast in Myanmar, but here in the Yunnan province of China, the sky was clear. Countless stars and a quarter-moon shone through the window. With her excellent night vision, there was enough light for her to see.
As the granddaughter of the late Grand Tiger, she’d lived in Tiger Town since the age of eight, moving there after the deaths of her parents and brother. She’d been trained in all the intricacies of courtly life and its elaborate ceremonies, but here in the privacy of her room, she’d always maintained a Spartan existence. As long as her family cried out for vengeance, she couldn’t afford to grow soft.
Her room took up half of a building situated on the bluff overlooking the beach and Mekong River. Down by the river, she could see lights in the windows of houses and stores built up on stilts. Most of the villagers of Tiger Town lived along the river and worked as fishermen or merchants. Up here on the bluff, the royal residences and guesthouses sat next to the courtyard and palace.
Her sensitive hearing caught the sound of a boot scraping along the stone alleyway outside her door. The guards were still there. Dammit. How dare that vampire bring her back to Tiger Town? She’d clearly told him anywhere but here.
She darted over to her wooden chest and dug beneath the embroidery supplies to find her hidden stash of knives. Still there, thank God. Apparently Rajiv hadn’t ordered her room to be searched when he’d learned she was missing.
After pulling out the leather parcel, she untied the strings to unroll it on the floor. Ten perfectly balanced knives lay in a row, their handles nestled into narrow pockets, their blades gleaming in the moonlight. She retrieved a knife from each of her boots and a third one that was lashed to her calf underneath her trousers. She lifted her baggy pants higher to uncover the short, emergency dagger strapped to her thigh.
With a snort, she added the four knives to her collection. The vampire had made a mistake not searching her for more weapons, although the thought of his hands roaming up her legs made her pause. Such strong hands. She only had to close her eyes to remember his rock-hard chest against her back, the scrape of his whiskers along her cheek, and the bold way he had stared into her eyes. What an intense, exciting . . .
“Bastard.” It didn’t matter how strong or handsome he was. He’d betrayed her. And then he’d turned away from her like he didn’t care. The cold, heartless worm. He was definitely not one of the good Vamps.
She hurried over to the delicate folding screen that partitioned off the section of the room she used for her bedroom. A gift from her grandfather, the screen was comprised of squares that each showed a different landscape painting. She folded it to the side to make the back wall visible. A length of white silk was rolled up like a shade near the ceiling. She untied the cord, and with a whoosh, the silk unfurled down the wall. The outline of a man had been painted in black on the white silk. She planted a few books along the hem to keep the silk banner stretched taut against the wooden wall.
After a quick run back to her stash of knives, she grabbed one and twisted toward the silk banner, letting the knife fly. Thunk. A direct hit to the man’s heart.
“Try to stop me again, vampire, and this one will be for you.” She hurled another knife, and it lodged in the man’s head.
She winced. Not his handsome face. With a groan, she turned away from the silk banner. His name was Russell. The best tracker in the world. Don’t think about him. But what if he was searching for Han right now? What if he found Han and killed him, stealing the vengeance she’d promised her family? How could she live with herself if she failed the mission she’d spent thirteen years preparing for?
Dammit, he needed to let her work with him. It didn’t matter if he was a cold, heartless worm of a vampire, not when he represented her best chance at actually completing her mission. And surviving it.
She shuddered as the memory of tonight’s fiasco flooded her mind. Not only had she failed to kill Han but she’d also panicked when the soldiers had come after her. Never had she experienced so many men intent on killing her. And how could she blame them? She’d killed two of them.