The Red Heart of Jade (23 page)

“And?”

“And then you were taken away. I woke up.”

Dean did not say anything. There was not a seat directly beside him, so Miri settled for reaching across the aisle to touch his hand. She wanted to do more. “Did you sleep?”

Dean shook his head and pulled up the edge of the blanket in his lap; Miri looked down and saw the red jade.

“You keeping it warm?” she asked.

“Funny. I’ve been trying to keep it close to my body. Like it’ll help strengthen the connection.”

“And has it?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t had any visions, but I do... feel something off the jade. I can’t really explain it.”

“At least you’re not speaking in tongues.”

He grimaced. “Again, bad scene. You sure you can’t tell me more about what happened?”

“If I could, I would. “ Miri hesitated, and touched the jade. One light tap. Nothing happened, and she picked it up and weighed the stone in her hand. Warmth traveled up her arm, resting heavy in her chest. She touched her breastbone with her other hand.

“Miri?” Dean asked quietly.

“I feel a connection with this thing,” she told him. “I can’t explain it.”

“Try.”

Miri hesitated. “It’s like it’s part of me, Dean. Like it should be hanging right where I found it in that mummy. Right here. “ She tapped herself.

“Yeah?” Dean touched his own chest. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.”

“You feel the same when you touch the jade?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I think that anything I feel may have more to do with that cut above my heart.”

Miri tugged gently at the collar of his shirt. Dean frowned, but instead of helping her, he leaned just far enough away to pull off his shirt. Miri swallowed hard, trying to remain clinical. She had already seen him naked at Memorial Park, but that was in darkness and under highly stressful circumstances. Intimacy had been the last thing on her mind—only survival.

But here, now...

His chest was smooth and pale, though his skin was marred by scars. And not all of them she recognized. Miri touched a spot on his ribs: one long line that cut down his side.

Dean shivered. “Army exercise that went awry.”

“And this?” she asked, touching another healed cut on his stomach.

“Cornered kidnapper in Brazil. I took the guy off guard and he had no gun. So he went for the kitchen knife.”

“Who had he kidnapped?”

“The teenage son of some local doctor he was trying to get money from. We were in the area on another case and found out about the crime from a contact. It didn’t take much effort to step in and do something.”

“Not much effort, huh? That was a bad wound, Dean.”

“Too bad I wasn’t indestructible back then.”

Miri shook her head. There were other scars, but she didn’t ask. She wasn’t sure she was ready for a laundry list of all the times he had been put in danger.

It won’t end. He loves his job too much. This is who he is now, guns and all. You think you can live with that?

Not that anyone was asking her to. Though when she thought about being away from Dean, not having him in her life...

She swallowed hard and focused in on the curving wound above his heart. It was a clean cut, a fine incision. She could see the edges of his flesh, just ready to peel away.

“This was no dream, Dean.”

“I’d like to pretend it was. The idea of really being set on fire—”

“You think Lysander did this to you?”

“At first I did. But now? I don’t know, babe. It doesn’t feel right. And besides, there was more of a... female presence at the time. “

“Female,” she said. “Huh.”

Dean scowled. “Not like that. Just... shit, I don’t know.”

“No need to squirm,” Miri said, hiding a smile. “But it’s just weird, that’s all.”

The jade still felt warm. Miri glanced down, turning it in the light, studying the lines cut into the stone. She looked again at the cut in Dean’s chest and frowned as something tickled her brain. An odd thought. She held the jade up to his chest.

“You’re making me nervous,” Dean said, peering at her face and then looking down at the jade in her hand. “What are you thinking?”

“Something wild,” she said. “Something impossible.”

“Miri...”

“That cut in your chest, Dean. It matches a mark in the jade. “ And she ran her fingernail against the carved red line and held it up for him. “Right here. See?”

“You’re joking,” he said, barely looking at the jade. “Babe, there’s no way there’s a connection.”

Miri stared at him. “Are you kidding? After everything that’s happened tonight? How can you possibly reject it outright?”

“Because it’s easier than considering the alternative. Glowing like a light bulb? Burning like hell?”

“Is there a pattern to it?”

Dean hesitated. “Magic types. When they’re around, things start to bark inside my chest.”

“Woof,” Miri said. “What an alarm system.”

He scowled, but there was something else in his eyes that made her sit up and frown. “What?” she asked.

Dean closed his eyes. “I need to tell you something, Miri. You’re not going to like it.”

“With an opening like that, I can bet I won’t.”

He sighed. “Just before I reached the roof of that Memorial Hall where Bai Shen took you, I had a run-in with an... associate of a friend. He said some things about us. He said that we’re both ‘the keys’ to this mystery, that the jade was secondary to us.”

“Okay,” Miri said slowly. “That’s some statement. Does this guy know what he’s talking about?”

“I have no clue. Tonight was the first time I’ve ever met this guy, Rictor, and the things I’ve heard before haven’t painted him in the best light. Bottom line? He’s not that trustworthy.”

“But you must think there’s some merit to what he said, or else you wouldn’t be telling me now.”

Dean shook his head. “No, he’s full of shit. In fact, I know he is.”

But there was something pained in his eyes when he said it, and Miri chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering.

“You’re holding back,” she finally said. Dean’s gaze flickered, but Miri shook her head before he could deny it. “You can run, but you can’t hide. What else did he say?”

She thought he would hold back, that she would have to fight him for the truth, but after a short hesitation, Dean said, “He told me that I needed to kill you.”

Miri stared. A chill raced through her and she quickly sat back, trying to put some imaginary distance between herself and the words she had just heard. But Dean followed her, reaching out across the aisle. He touched her hand, the back of her neck.

“I would never hurt you,” he said. “Miri, are you listening to me?”

She shrugged him off, scowling. “Give me some credit. I don’t think you’re a complete moron.”

Dean blew out his breath. “I’m sorry I told you, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what he said. I was gonna bust a gut if I couldn’t share. And no, he didn’t give a reason.”

“Then chalk him up to being crazy and forget about it,” Miri told him, trying to suppress her uneasiness. “Unless you think...”

“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t.”

Miri smiled. She wanted to kiss him, wanted nothing more than to wrap her body around that bare chest and sink down into his skin for one long hug, like the kind Dean used to give her for no reason at all. Just because he thought she needed one. Just because it was the right thing to do.

Miri unbuckled her seat belt and crossed the aisle to Dean. He stared at her for a moment, uncertainty flashing through his eyes, but as she sank into his lap he seemed to understand and he folded her close. The flight attendant glanced up once from her seat near the front of the plane. A smile played on her lips.

Dean held her. His breath ruffled her hair. The rise and fall of his chest felt like some silent music only her body could hear, and Miri cradled the jade in her hands. Her legs dangled over the armrest.

“Why are we doing this?” she asked him softly, lulled by his warmth, the safety of his presence, which felt so much like home—the old forgotten home of her youth—that she felt a tear curl into her eyes and blinked hard.

“Why this treasure hunt?” Dean replied. His lips brushed her brow. “I’ve been asking myself the same question. Because even if we do find the other half, what then? People will still keep chasing us. When does it stop?”

“It doesn’t. That’s what bothers me, Dean. There’s so much going on here, and I just... can’t see the whole picture. If there is a picture. Robert. A man who can’t be killed, who says he has been ordered to steal the jade and kidnap me. Package deal, two for one. Kevin Liao. Department head who destroys four-thousand-year-old mummies, also wants the jade, and has an assistant—a girl formally unremarkable—who makes Rambo look like a mama’s boy. They appear to be working for a woman, Lysander’s mate, in fact—”

“Whoa. His mate? Like, as in, wife? You didn’t tell me that.”

“Sorry. But yeah, that’s what he said.”

“Dude. “ Dean rubbed his face. “Okay, who else? Bai Shen?”

“I don’t think he wants the jade. But think about it for a minute. If his dad is Lysander, and Lysander’s wife is running the opposition...”

“Then that would explain how Bai Shen knew so much, and why he might be desperate to get Daddy-o under control. But why do they know so much about us?”

“Last night when you were questioning Robert, you asked him if he worked for something called the Consortium. I assume, given the circumstances in which you asked, that they aren’t very nice. But could there be a connection there?”

“I hope not,” Dean said. “They’re worse than not nice. In fact, they’re the reason why I wasn’t so surprised to hear about this whole possession deal. The Consortium’s former leader had the same thing in her head, but she was further gone than our dragon. And she could infect other people with it. Though that may have just been a personal talent, since Lysander doesn’t seem to be going around spreading the love.”

“You could still walk away,” she said, fairly certain of Dean’s response, but unable to hold in the words, the message, the sentiment—unable, as well, to control the sudden thread of fear in her gut, the fear that maybe she was wrong, that she would see in his eyes regret; or worse yet, resentment for getting him into this mess.

But Dean grabbed her hand, twined his fingers tight in her own, and in a deep voice, with iron resolve in his eyes, resolve and something more, something even stronger, said, “The only way I’m walking is with you, Miri, and the only
place
I’m walking is at your side. Nowhere else I’d rather be, no
way
else I’d rather be. And that’s the truth.”

There was permanence attached to his words—a determination that was startling and thrilling. Like the old days, the days when common sense had been a myth, fantasy—where the only reality was miracles and coincidence, guts and glory. The streets had been their playground once upon a time, their deep dark forest, their kingdom. Both of them swashbucklers, both of them knights, both of them royalty. Running, always running.

He’s back
, a voice whispered inside her heart.
Don’t
let go
.

Don’t let go. Not ever again.

They landed without trouble, and customs in Hong Kong—as in Taiwan—was also private, quick, and extremely efficient. Miri felt like a head of state as she disembarked from the plane, greeted by a portly and greasy official who managed to fawn while maintaining an utterly professional air. A small bus waited for them, and after a quick ride, deposited Koni, Dean, and Miri in the main terminal.

Shops and restaurants filled the wide corridors. Miri gazed out the massive windows, staring at the ocean. Green mountains rose from the water, peaks covered in morning mist. Tall columns held up glass walkways and colorful billboards, several of which required double takes because the three of them recognized the pale visage plastered in all its gargantuan glory.

“He’s never going to be a model again,” Miri said, staring into that mysterious face. “Lysander ripped off his ear and ate it.”

“God,” Koni said. “You didn’t need to tell me that.”

“Just be glad you didn’t have to see it,” she muttered, which was enough to end the conversation.

They had no luggage, nothing but themselves. Down in the lower terminal they found the main platform into the city. As they waited for the train, Koni and Miri stood watch while Dean closed his eyes. He got some curious looks, but nothing menacing; just some old Chinese women who studied him, and then transferred their scrutiny on Miri. Their expressions darkened. Miri ignored them. She had a fairly good idea of what they were thinking, and it was nothing new. Lone Chinese woman traveling through Asia with two foreign men? She was automatic trash, an
er-nai
, little better than a whore.

The world is full of expectations and assumptions
, she thought,
and few are rarely right
.

Dean rubbed his chest, the spot above his heart. “We need to get out of here.”