As we approach a massive bridge spanning the width of a sparkling brown river, Ah Lang breaks the silence. ‘Rune, please tell us, exactly how does Gigi’s uncle’s neighbour’s niece know your father?’
‘Who on earth is Rune?’ Gigi says.
‘That would be me,’ Lord Aengus says from the front seat. Ah Lang helpfully turns his vase to face the back seat. ‘The Tuatha Dé and House Durand know each other; to avoid my father the Dagda hearing about my illness, I hid my identity.’
‘They know each other?’ I ask.
Lord Aengus heaves a sigh. ‘There’s some connection that dates back to Aliénor de Durand’s mortal days when she stayed in Tuatha Dé territory. After she became vampire we lost track of her until a few centuries ago when House Durand began to make waves among the French elite.’
‘So it’s true? Mortals can be made vampires?’ I can’t hide the excitement in my voice.
‘Yes,’ Lord Aengus says. ‘But we don’t know how. House Durand does not consort with outsiders, and commands great loyalty among their vassals; that we were privy to La Grande Morte is quite extraordinary.’ He glances sideways at me. ‘It must be a shock to discover your long-lost family this way.’
‘I can’t believe they thought kidnapping us would make us want to help them,’ Gigi says.
‘That’s not fair, Gigi. They were desperate.’ I try to keep my tone from getting defensive.
‘That was their own doing,’ Gigi drawls, inspecting one of her nails. ‘Oh drat, I broke one.’
‘How is Maximilienlyingto them, their own doing?’
Gigi turns slowly to face me. ‘Jing, it’s been an emotional day for all of us, and especially you. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to find family you thought were lost forever. I am not diminishing the worry and pain they’ve experienced. But worry and pain doesn’t justify dishonourable behaviour.’
‘But—’
‘Why are you arguing, Jing? Even the vampires admitted they were in the wrong and kowtowed in apology.’
It annoys me that she’s right. I cross my arms and stare out the window. But Gigi won’t let it go.
‘The instinct to protect your family is only natural,’ she continues. ‘But your need to belong is clouding your judgement.’
When I don’t answer, she sighs – a mixture of disappointment and frustration – like I’m some hopeless fool.
I turn to tell her she’s wrong, only to see in her eyes the thing I cannot stand: pity.
‘You—’ I snarl.
Before I can say anything more, Ah Lang says, ‘Lady Jing is right.’
Wait, what?I replay his words to make sure I hadn’t misheard.
‘House Durand is Lady Jing’s family, Petal,’ he says calmly. ‘Of course she will want to learn more about them and herself.’ He sets his clear gaze on me. ‘Lady Jing, this is your heritage. Do not feel ashamed to claim it.’
We roll to a stop outside a building that in height and breadth is a sibling to all those surrounding it. Five storeys high, it stands alone on the arrow point of two adjoining streets. But the similarities end there. The other buildings are a harmonious light grey or beige stone. This one, however, is a brilliant, firecracker red.Manor of Gathering Eleganceis carved into the sign over the matching red gate.
Curved eaves and green glazed tiles ripple across the roof, each corner guarded by a pair of gilded qilin. Wooden lattice balconies run the length of each floor, and the windows are covered with more of the same lattice. Though its height and proportions are unmistakably French, in colouring and adornment it reminds me of home.
Ahn pulls open two huge bronze doors and we step over the raised threshold into the shadowy cool of the receiving hall. The doors clang shut as my eyes adjust to the dim interior.
A woman clad in a flowing white dress turns at our arrival. A mane of flame-red curls cascade to her waist. She has a strong jaw and luminous jade green eyes.
‘Thank you for your patience,’ Ahn says to the stranger. Turning to us, she says, ‘Please wait here. Do not open the front door.’ She hurries down the hall and disappears through a hidden door.
The redhead’s gaze lands on Ah Lang, then slides to the blond head protruding from the vase in his hands. Exasperation pinches her expression.
‘A dheartháir, an bhfoghlaimeoidh tú riamh?’ she says.
The lilt to her words reminds me a little of Shanghainese, with a dash of Beijinger. I wonder what—
