‘What is it with your grandmothers?’ Gigi shakes her head. ‘Why are they always such battleaxes?’
‘Petal, we mustn’t disparage Lady Jing’s kin,’ Ah Lang says, patting Gigi’s hand.
Gigi ignores him. ‘You trust the Durands,’ she says. It’s not a question.
I take a moment to consider whether I do, in fact, trust them. Lord Aengus has the measure of Maximilien, and Tony’s take on Marianne rings true. As for Mémère, she reminds me of Niang Niang in many ways yet her brand of violence has a different focus. Niang Niang retaliates, whereas Mémère appears to protect. ‘I don’t know if I’d go that far, but I am inclined to believe Mémère at least is worthy of my trust.’
Gigi makes a face. ‘Jing, how can you say that? They hijacked our train and held us hostage. Attacked Ah Lang and hurt him. That’s not what I call trustworthy behaviour.’
Nothing she said was wrong, nor was she talking about me, yet I feel maligned. I try to rein in my irritation and explain what I mean.
‘Everything she’s done, she did to find her son. If your loved one was hurt, missing, possibly at death’s door, wouldn’t you want to do everything in your power to bring him home?’ I don’t need to look at Ah Lang for Gigi to understand who I mean. I know I would do anything to keep Tony from harm. Break any rule, whether he, or anyone else, liked it or not.
Gigi doesn’t answer.
Yue Gui interrupts the growing tension. ‘I think we have enough information to write our report for the Ministry of Rites, which we will also send to Yan Luo Wang and the Jade Emperor. While we wait for their response, call your families. We will bring you clothes and toiletries so you can bathe and freshen up. Lord Aengus, thank you for your patience, I will bring you back to your healer.’
Twenty
Two of a Kind
My brain is a tangled knot of questions I want to ask Big Wang but which I’m not sure how to broach. Neither of us are very good at being open with our feelings and thoughts; I tend to bottle things up and impulsively blurt them out at the most inopportune time; Big Wang is the same, without the impulsive blurting.
There’s no easy answer. I settle into a chair in Yue Gui’s tidy office and stare at the tree outside the window while I wait for my call to connect. A small green parakeet with a cherry-red beak appears on the windowsill then flutters down to one of the branches. I look down and realise it’s the plum tree we passed earlier when Yue Gui took us through the courtyard. The bronze joss urn now burns with a lively fire the colour of twilight, that glowing blue when the sun hovers just below the horizon – bright and deep with a hint of violet. Having spent quite a lot of time with Da Ye in Custom House, I also know the colour indicates a communication with Hell. A Custom House clerk is probably already running Yue Gui’s report over to Big Wang.
‘Wei? Little Jing?’ The telephone line distorts Big Wang’s voice; he sounds tinny and lacks his comforting rumble. ‘Are you hurt? What happened?’
My clothes are stained and torn. I’m glad he can’t see me. ‘I’m fine, though I think we’re all a bit shaken.’
I chew my lip, wanting to ask him about House Durand, the fulu, the outpost. All the things Big Wang kept from me. In the end, I take the coward’s way out.
‘I delivered Lord Aengus to his healer, Lady Brigid. She seems nice, though she gave him an earful as soon as she saw him.’
Big Wang chuckles. ‘I hope he is soon restored.’
The conversation judders to a standstill and we listen to the static coming down the wire. A second parakeet lands in the tree outside. I watch the two flit from branch to branch until Big Wang clears his throat.
‘Yue Gui sent a message when the train didn’t arrive and again when Mr Lee called to say where to pick you up. She only said the train had been diverted and that you were with the vampires. I’m waiting for’ – there’s a pause – ‘ah, here it is. I’ll read the report after our call. I am glad you are not hurt, but please, tell me what happened. How are the vampires involved?’
I take a deep breath, fully intending to recount the hijack. But instead, I say, ‘Why didn’t you tell me there are vampires in Paris?’
The static stretches for so long I wonder if the line’s been cut. ‘Big Wang?’
‘I . . .’ he says, saying nothing at all.
The words flood out of me now. ‘You set up an outpost in Paris to gather intel on vampires. You had fulu made specifically to ward against them. One of them even came to yin Shanghai. All these things, you never thought I might want to know?’
The other end of the line remains silent.
Green wings flash as the parakeets chase each other through the leaves. I can’t tell if the one wants to be on the same branch as the other, or is driving the other off, or if they are just incredibly indecisive little birds.
Finally, he says, ‘I was afraid.’
His voice is so small. My chest goes tight at the knowledge I made him sound like that. Part of me wants to apologise, but another part refuses. Heshouldhave told me. Even so, I tamp down my impatience and gentle my voice.
‘What were you afraid of?’
He speaks quietly and I have to concentrate to catch all his words through the static. ‘Contain my selfishness, Little Jing. You’d just lost your mother when the French vampire came to yin Shanghai. He was conceited and arrogant; you were so young and had suffered so much. What if he had come to kidnap you? I didn’t want to expose you to yet more cruelty. In order to protect you, to keep you safe, I needed to know more about your paternal side. I needed intel.’
