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‘That is no way to greet an old friend,’ the Tiger said. He approached us, hands out. ‘Peace. Michael, I need to talk to you.’
Michael turned away. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’ He bowed slightly to me. ‘It’s kind of a relief that I can’t do it, Emma. I’ll see you later — I’m having dinner at your place tonight.’
I nodded to him. ‘I just wish I wasn’t able to do it either.’
‘Look, it’s about your mother,’ the Tiger said. ‘Can we put this aside? We both loved her, and I need your help to find out why she died.’
Michael rounded on the Tiger. ‘It’s obvious why she died. You killed her!’ He swept one hand through the air. ‘Or one of the other wives killed her in a fit of jealousy. Either way, she’s gone and you’re responsible.’ He spun to leave.
‘I know I’m responsible,’ the Tiger said. ‘And Emma is a clue as to what happened. I need you to help me find out what made your mother different.’
Michael ignored him, opening the door to exit.
‘Emma, I need you too,’ the Tiger said. ‘Come to the lab and donate some DNA. We need to find out what killed Rhonda so it doesn’t happen to anyone again.’
‘I’m a demon,’ I said. ‘That’s what would kill me.’
‘You’re not listening to me, either of you!’ the Tiger shouted, and Michael stopped halfway through the door. ‘Michael, what killed her could kill you!’ He pointed at me. ‘And you! I want to save your fucking lives here, humans. For fuck’s sake, let me!’ He dropped his voice. ‘I want to ensure that no Celestial Worthy is ever destroyed again by taking the Elixir. They should gain Immortality, not die! Hell, boy, you’ll probably achieve Immortality by yourself. But if you ever want that fucking Elixir, you’d better be damn sure that it won’t blow you up.’
Michael dropped his head. ‘Like it did my mother.’
‘I loved her,’ the Tiger said, his voice full of anguish. ‘She was my world. And now she’s gone, nothing means anything to me. The only thing keeping me going is the thought that I can stop this from happening to you.’
‘Let me think about it,’ Michael said without looking up. He walked out, softly closing the door behind him.
‘Emma?’ the Tiger said.
‘I’ll think about it too,’ I said. ‘I can only travel to the Celestial Plane as a serpent. I’m contaminated by the demon essence …’
‘We might be able to remove the demon from you if we study your DNA,’ the Tiger said.
‘Maybe. Either way, let me think about it. I’m scheduled to spend some time on the Plane next week, visiting the Northern Heavens for an update on how things are going and some hearings. I might stop in at the West to help you out.’
‘I can always send some scientists down here to take some samples if you don’t want to come to the West,’ he said. ‘Your choice. I just want to make sure that when Ah Wu comes back, he can fulfil his promise to you.’ He waved a hand after Michael. ‘This kid will be my Number One one day, and the finest I’ve ever had. But to get there, he’s gonna need Immortality, and we need to be sure that the Elixir won’t kill him.’ He disappeared.
I retrieved the Murasame from where it was floating in the air and put it back into its black scabbard. What the Tiger didn’t know was my memories of being imprisoned in a hospital-type lab being infused with demon essence had affected me; I’d suffered nightmares ever since. The idea of being the willing subject of lab experiments was something I found hard even to consider.
When I got back to my office there was an email waiting for me that made me sigh.
To: Emma Donahoe
<emmad@newwudang.com.hk>
From: Evarocks <eva95@zqphoenix.com.id>
Hi Emma,
I haven’t heard from Simone in ages, is she okay? Me and Sylvie kinda miss going around with her. I emailed her a couple of days ago and she didn’t reply.
If she doesn’t want to be friends any more, could you tell her it’s okay, I understand, but just to tell me and I’ll stop contacting her to do stuff?
Thanx
Eva
I stared at the screen for a moment, then replied.
To: Evarocks <eva95@zqphoenix.com.id>
From: Emma Donahoe
<emmad@newwudang.com.hk>
Bcc: Simone Chen
<darkchaos4682@gmail.com>
Hi Eva,
I think it’s mainly that she’s so busy with school at the moment — because of the change of schools mid-year she’s flat out catching up with the rest of her class. I’m sure that when things settle down she’ll be back in contact with you.
Emma
I quickly composed another email:
To: Simone Chen darkchaos4682@gmail.com
From: Emma Donahoe
<emmad@newwudang.com.hk>
I bcc’d the message to you so you could see, but she doesn’t know I sent it on to you.
I remember when you were five years old and didn’t have a single friend in the world. How things have changed.
E
I would get the Silent Treatment when she got home from the shops later, but it would be worth it.
CHAPTER 3
About four that afternoon, Simone contacted me telepathically. Emma, I’m going to call you on your mobile. Can you play along, please?
My mobile rang and I answered it. ‘Yes?’
Simone sounded incredibly giggly and silly. ‘Emma, can you come pick me up at Festie? I’m here with my friends and we’re done.’
‘What? Why?’
I wanna be normal for a change, Emma, can you just do this for me? I want them to see me getting picked up like a normal kid.
‘Just come and get me, please, Emma,’ she whined.
‘I suppose. I’ll meet you at the lay-by.’
‘You’ll have to come to the car park, the lay-by’s closed for some stupid roadworks or something.’ I heard her friends giggling in the background, and one of them said something. ‘Can you meet us under the P and S?’ Simone added. ‘Right down the bottom, close to the doors, please, we have a lot of stuff. Oh, and can you give Sarah a lift home too?’
I sighed with feeling. ‘I suppose.’
‘Thanks, Emma!’ she said, and hung up. Thanks, really, Emma, she added silently. I wouldn’t ask if you had a class, and I won’t ask again, okay?
‘Tell her she can ask as much as she likes if it makes her feel good about being normal,’ I said to the stone.
Simone’s voice was giddy in my head. You’re the GREATEST, Emma!
‘You won’t be the greatest when she gets your email,’ the stone said.
I rose and collected my bag.
‘Not sending Leo?’ the stone said.
‘Nah, he’s with Meredith. It’ll do me good to get out of the office, even if it is to go through the tunnel.’
It took half an hour to wend my way through the Cross-Harbour Tunnel traffic and reach the top of Kowloon City and the massive shopping mall of Festival Walk. The mall didn’t look much from the outside, a regular two-storey rectangular monolith, but inside it plunged to six storeys below ground level. I entered the spiralling ramp down to the car park, travelling a long time before I reached the boom gate. I pushed my credit card into the slot and wound my way to the bottom floor, another three levels down. The car park was deserted this far down during the day, and I pulled up next to the lobby at the bottom of the escalators below the supermarket.
Simone wasn’t there so I pulled out my phone to call her. There was no signal so I left the car and went towards the escalator lobby. As I opened the door to enter, my hand was grabbed from behind and I was swung away from the door. I didn’t really register who had attacked me; I just knew they were human not demon: three Chinese men, all of them menacingly close. The one holding my wrist was grinning at me.
I didn’t mess around; I moved as quickly as I could and took them down. I pushed just above the heart of the man holding my wrist and his knees buckled, his eyes went blank and he collapsed. I used a simple throat block to make the second feel unable to breathe for a few seconds, and used that time to hit the third under the ear on a pressure point that put him straight to sleep. I returned to the second and shoved him in the solar plexus, knocking him unconscious as well.
I was bending to check their unmoving bodies for ID when I heard panting and running. I looked up, preparing to defend myself again, and saw the Nemesis, Peter Tong. He was wearing a designer polo shirt and a pair of slacks hitched under his bulging stomach. His face was swollen with exertion and one flailing arm held a small pistol. I moved into a long defensive stance, ready to take him down before he could shoot me.
He stopped, bent over his knees to pant for a while, then stood again. ‘What happened?’
‘Put the gun down,’ I said.
He waved the gun again and I ducked as he pointed it at my head. ‘No! I’m here to defend you!’
I moved close to him, put my foot between his feet, bent my knee into him and pushed him onto his back, taking the gun at the same time. He smelt of cooking oil and expensive aftershave.
‘You idiot, you could have killed me,’ I said. I checked the magazine; it was empty. ‘You run around with an empty gun? What are you doing?’
Simone and her friend Sarah came down the escalators and hurried to us.
‘Oh, Emma, were you attacked?’ Sarah said, waving her arms theatrically. ‘What a stroke of luck that Peter was here to save you!’
‘Wait a minute,’ I said, and looked from the Nemesis, still gasping on the ground, to Sarah. ‘How much did he pay you to do this, Sarah?’
‘Oh, you know about it? Three thousand dollars,’ Sarah said. She went to Peter and held out her hand. ‘Come on, pay up.’
‘What happened?’ Simone said. She studied the goons on the ground. ‘These aren’t … These are ordinary …’ She was silent for a moment, thinking. ‘You were mugged by three men, Emma?’
‘Yeah, and Peter came rushing with his dinky cowboy gun to rescue me,’ I said.
‘Wait, he paid Sarah?’ Simone took her friend by the shoulder. ‘He paid you to set Emma up?’
‘Nobody was going to get hurt. It was just a little demonstration to show Emma how much she needs a man in her life to defend her,’ Peter said. He clumsily pulled himself to his feet. ‘What if these men had attacked you and I hadn’t been here to scare them off?’
‘You scared them off?’ Simone said with scorn.
‘Look! They all fainted with fear when they saw me!’ Peter said.
I passed the gun to Simone and she held it as if it were something contaminated. I moved into a serpent-style stance: legs spread, and palms flat and facing down like the head of a snake. I jabbed a few times at the Nemesis’s eyes, making him reel back with shock, then lightly hit him with the tips of my fingers, not enough to hurt him but enough to make him feel it. I struck his chin, throat, shoulders, chest, and then made a flurry of strikes at his stomach, not hard enough to do damage. I changed to monkey style and swept low, taking his feet out from under him, and catching him just as he was about to hit the ground. I lowered him to the floor so that he didn’t hurt himself, and stepped back.
‘I took them down myself,’ I said. ‘I’m a master of seventeen different styles of Kung Fu.’
Sarah stared at me, then turned to Simone. ‘Do you do martial arts too?’
Simone hesitated, then raised her chin. ‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s fun,’ Simone said.
Sarah turned back to Peter. ‘I did what you asked me to. Where’s my money?’
Peter pulled himself back to his feet, then hunched over, grimacing with pain. ‘I’m horribly injured! You beat me! I need an ambulance — and a lawyer!’
‘You’re a good thirty centimetres taller than me,’ I said. ‘Nobody’s going to believe that I hurt you, particularly when there isn’t a mark on you.’
He raised his shirt, revealing his white, glutinous abdomen. ‘I’m covered in bruises!’
‘No, you’re not. Get over yourself.’ I turned away from him. ‘I think you need to find a lift home, Sarah. Or was this loser going to drive you as well as pay you blood money?’
‘My driver’s on the way to pick me up anyway,’ Sarah said with a toss of her head. ‘I don’t need to call my stepmother for a lift. My real mother can’t drive, she doesn’t need to. We have a driver; we don’t drive ourselves around like domestic helpers.’ She turned to Simone. ‘Next time I think I’ll go shopping with someone interesting, not some freak who does martial arts.’
She swung her bags as she turned to go up the escalators, then turned back to Peter. ‘I know who you are, loser, and you owe me. If you don’t pay up soon, I’ll get my boyfriend and some of his friends to spray-paint your store in Central. The inside.’ She swept away.
‘Well, thank you very much,’ Simone said, grabbing her bags and storming towards the car. She turned back to yell at me. ‘Just go and ruin my life one friend at a time, Emma, why don’t you!’
I pointed at the unconscious goons on the ground. ‘How much did you pay them?’ I asked Peter.
He pulled down his polo shirt to cover his stomach, his face red. ‘I never paid anybody! I protected you from these … these … thugs!’
I moved into a serpent stance again. ‘How about protecting yourself from me?’
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then ran away into the escalator lobby, his arms flailing.
I returned to the car. Simone was sitting in the back, leaning against the door and weeping. I reached into my bag, pulled out a packet of tissues and handed it to her. She took it without looking at me.
