I’m too relieved to register the change in his expression – from confusion to betrayal – until it’s too late. He moves faster than I can track. With one hand he pins both my wrists above my head. Cold stone against my back, heat from his naked chest burning my cheeks.
His eyes glitter in the wan light. ‘What have you done?’ he hisses. Then, voice cracking, ‘Why?’
I don’t know how much more my heart can take. ‘You had sangue poisoning. You would have died...’
‘I told you I didn’t want this—’
My mouth opens, closes. I knowingly went against his wishes. There’s nothing I can say that could ever justify my actions so I offer him the truth. ‘I couldn’t just let you die.’
His face twists with disgust. There’s pain and anger there, too.
‘That’s exactly what you should have done!’ He screams in my face, so close I could cup his cheek if he released my wrists. ‘I told you I wanted to remain mortal. We would have met again in yin Shanghai. Every life cycle, we’d have met again!’
My temper flares. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. You think we’ll meet again every life cycle?’ I laugh, but it comes out more like a maniacal cackle.
He releases my wrists, steps away from me. ‘Explain.’
Now that I’ve done what was needed to save Tony, it’s as if someone’s pulled the stopper and all the words I’ve kept bottled up are flowing out. I stalk towards Tony, half hysterical, but I can’t stop myself.
‘It’s not like arriving on a cruise ship. There’s no passenger list. I’d have to meet the ghost ferries,allthe ghost ferries, that dock in yin Shanghai, checking every passenger until I find you. If I knew when you died, maybe I’d only have to wait a few days. Meeting you the first time is the easy part. The hard part, that first time at least, is sitting with you at Madame Meng’s while you drink her tea of oblivion, watching while your memories disappear. Maybe you’ll spare a glance for the woman weeping beside you, but you won’t know her anymore, or even care, because the pull of Naihe Bridge will be the only thing on your mind. You’ll leave without a backwards glance and cross the bridge to your new life. I’ll be left behind, clutching our memories, grieving for the rest of my existence.’
‘We’re joined by the threads of Fate, Jing.’ His voice is hoarse. ‘We would meet and fall in love again.’
My laughter is a humourless bitter thing. ‘Let’s say you’re right. We meet in every one of your life cycles. Ten thousand times you’d meet me anew, fall in love, and then, as is the path of mortals, die. Have you spared a thought as to what that would mean for me?
‘Ten thousand times I’d grieve your death. Ten thousand times I’d walk you to Madame Meng’s teahouse only to watch you forget me. Ten thousand times I’d wait in uncertainty, not knowing when or if you’d reincarnate, or if you’d find me again.’
We face each other across the room. He smells different, but healthy. Not a whiff of decay. Benesangue protects him from death, possibly for eternity. I don’t regret my choice. But it doesn’t mean I am not ashamed, because ultimately, I did what I did not for him, but for me.
‘I’m sorry, Tony, I wouldn’t survive that.’
‘I see.’ His voice is soft and, for a moment, hope swells in my chest. But his expression is grim and his voice hard when he says, ‘Your selfishness disappoints, Lady Hu Xian Jing.’
Thirty-Five
Bound
The vampires mist Jing and Tony back to Mémère’s salon. The night has transformed the floor-to-ceiling windows into mirrors. Jing’s hair is dishevelled, her dress smeared with dark stains. Tony is nowhere near as grisly, but the expression on his face is enough to keep people away. He holds himself stiffly, no doubt uncomfortable. Marianne remembers the change; the first few days is like having a stomach ache that won’t go away.
Max sits in an armchair, flanked by two cavaliers. Other than looking a little tired, he’s as pristine as ever. White shirt, unknotted bow tie hanging loose around his collar, hands shoved into pockets; he doesn’t give an impression of remorse but rather an impatience to be somewhere else. His sullen expression darkens when he sees Jing.
Jing’s reaction is more extreme. When she sees him, it sets her entire body shaking. She hurls herself at him but the cavaliers mist Max to the other side of the room, out of reach. Jing opens her mouth and a scream unlike anything Marianne has ever heard before reverberates around the salon – a piercing keening that hurts her ears and makes the mirrors and windows hum at a dangerously high-pitched frequency. Even Max looks unnerved.
Marianne hurries to Jing’s side, puts an arm around her shoulders. She can sense how close Jing is to losing control. She murmurs, ‘Tony’s safe now, no one can hurt him again. Max will answer for his actions. It’ll be alright.’ She repeats reassurances until Jing’s racing heart calms.
Marianne guides her to the armchair beside Mémère, and slips into the one on the other side, so that she and her grandmother flank Jing. A servant hands everyone a glass of fresh blood to steady their nerves. Tony contemplates the proffered glass with a grim expression before closing his fingers around it.
‘Explain yourself, Maximilien,’ Mémère demands.
When Max doesn’t respond, she bangs the floor with her cane.
Max cringes. ‘At first it was only a game. But when I realised you were going to take everything away, I got angry. I wanted to punish Jing, punishyoufor taking away my inheritance.’
Mémère sighs, a heavy exhale. ‘I must also share the blame. All these years, I indulged you, believing my tenderness a reward. Instead, you learned that accountability was for other people. I put you on the wrong path.’ She shakes her head. ‘You have forgotten our most sacred duty. First and foremost, the head of House Durand must protect our people. Mortal and vampire. What you did, playing with Tony Lee’s life, is the most blasphemous of acts you could commit.’
Max looks stricken, his confidence shaken for the first time.
Marianne translates, adding, ‘Max has been stripped of his privileges: he may no longer feed directly from pursuivants, he may only drink blood from a glass. He can no longer mist—’
