Only it wasn’t. The wiggling of the yaoguai’s fingers didn’t do anything. It was the toodle-oo gesture.
He set his feet and then jumped straight up through the skylight. Glass shards rained down on us. It was like one of Quentin’s takeoffs, only more destructive.
“Track him!” Quentin said.
I tried to keep my eye on him with true sight, but it was much harder than I thought—the equivalent of trying to watch a jet plane with a telescope. The yaoguai kept slipping out of my narrow field of view. It didn’t help that right before I had a lock, I was hit in the back of the head with an upright vacuum cleaner, knocking me over.
I looked up to see Quentin with a rampaging cleaning lady wrapped up in a full nelson.
“Sorry,” he said. “She was quicker than she looks.”
I collapsed back to the floor and groaned.
Rearranging the hulking doorman back into his chair without making it look like he’d died mid-nap was an exercise in futility. I had to leave him slumped over, sleeping with the unnatural stillness that came with Quentin’s knockout spell.
I’d lost patience with the rest of the people in the lobby and stuffed them in the hallway of the first floor. They’d sort themselves out once they woke up.
Quentin emerged from an unmarked room holding a bunch of tapes and computer equipment.
“We’re lucky they had an old system,” he said. “The newer security cameras upload recordings to the Internet automatically.”
“How do you even know that?” I said. “Did you break into fancy apartment buildings all the time back in ancient China?”
He shrugged off the question and gave his armful of electronics a squeeze over the nearest trash can. The broken bits filtered through his fingers, shades of my annihilated phone.
My self-imposed deadline had been blown, and my mother would be furious with me once I got home. But that wasn’t what I was worried about right now.
“This is bad,” I said, chewing my fingernails. “This is so bad. We effed up, Quentin. He got away. The demon got away. There’s a hole in the roof of this building.”
A middle-aged man in running shorts with a Yorkie on a leash entered the lobby as I was speaking.
“What hole in the building?” the man asked. He saw the doorman spread-eagled behind the desk. “What did you do to Lucius? Who are you two?”
“Sleep.” Quentin tossed the spell over his shoulder without looking. The man crumpled to the carpet. His dog began licking his passed-out face.
I rubbed my arms and paced back and forth, suddenly cold. This was the first time we tried to apprehend a demon with full knowledge and preparation of what we were doing, and we’d borked it.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie and call this the best demon hunt I’ve ever been on,” Quentin said. “But look on the bright side. All of these people are . . . roughly okay. We scared off the yaoguai before it caused any real damage.”
His words weren’t much of a comfort. I kicked at the floor hard enough that it startled the dog into whimpering.
“We’ll talk to Guanyin,” Quentin said. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
28
“You let him get away?”
It was the first weekend after our debacle with the faceless man, and our first debriefing with Guanyin and Erlang Shen. For our meeting spot we were in a dim sum restaurant near the train station two towns over from mine. The clanking, cackling, brunch-time chatter formed a cone of deafness around us as good as any silencing spell.
Which was good, because Quentin had severely misrepresented what Guanyin’s reaction to our little escapade would be. The Goddess of Mercy was more upset than anyone I’d ever seen capable of, outside of me and my mother.
“You let him get away,” she repeated incredulously.
“This one wasn’t an eater,” Quentin said. “I’m sure of it.”
“And how do you know that?” Erlang Shen asked.
“He was too powerful. You can’t reach that level of manipulation ability if you still crave human flesh. Also he had no mouth.”
Guanyin looked at Quentin like his answer physically hurt her brain. “So it’s okay that this particular yaoguai is running free, because he’s strong enough to bewitch any human into doing his bidding. Yau mou gaau cho ah . . .”
I’d thought maybe being in public would have lessened our gloom, but instead the restaurant mirrored it back on us tenfold. It might have been the sheen of grease on the floors, or the glass of the fish tanks lining the wall. Either way, it felt like a spotlight of unfestiveness was being aimed at us.
We ignored most of the carts that passed by. The two gods didn’t bother with human food, and I couldn’t muster an appetite in a situation like this. Even Quentin toned down his consumption to normal levels, having long finished his vegetable dumplings out of a sense of obligation rather than enjoyment.
“We searched the building after scaring him off, and we didn’t find any remains,” I said.
“Well that’s nice,” Guanyin said. “But that’s not the only issue here. Having a ravenous yaoguai on the loose would have meant that the two of you were only on the hook for every missing person report until it was caught. Now that we know it likes controlling people against their will, you can also add every act of violence, depravity, and self-harm to your list as well.”
Quentin shot to his feet. “A word outside,” he barked.
The goddess locked eyes with him for a long second, but eventually she stood and followed him out of the restaurant.
I could barely look up from the table. I felt like garbage.
I wasn’t used to failing in ways that I couldn’t make up for with sheer brute effort. I could usually cover my normal-world shortcomings by hitting the books or the gym harder, but Guanyin was right. There was no way to spin this.
In the interim silence my phone vibrated, a period on the end of the sentence. Probably Yunie. I let it go until it stopped.
Erlang Shen took the moment to speak up.
“She takes her job very seriously,” he explained. “When you first meet her she’s all sweetness and favors. But if you ever disappoint her . . .”
“Yeah, she’s got layers,” I muttered.
“Don’t take it too hard. In my opinion, you’re holding up your end of the bargain as well as can be expected. The two of you have looked for this faceless man since then, right?”
“Yeah. For hours. And miles. But I couldn’t find anything. I don’t know if it’s because my version of true sight is weaker than Quentin’s, or what.”
Erlang Shen looked gobsmacked at my admission. “Your version?”
Crap. “I . . . uh . . . yes. I’m the one who’s got true sight now, not Quentin. Is that a problem?”
“No,” he said. “Not at all. But it’s a pretty big deal, the Ruyi Jingu Bang having that ability tacked on to the rest of its portfolio. You’re more powerful than you ever were before.”
“Even though I can’t size change or make clones of myself yet?”