But I’d be put to death. I had no doubt of that. I knew it when I agreed to kidnap Daiyu on my own.
“Jason,” she said. Her tone, quiet and urgent, stopped me. “I don’t ever want to hurt anyone. But after what happened to me . . . I have to protect myself. I’ve no choice.”
I nodded, letting her know that I understood, though my helmet didn’t move. The dark, damp walls seemed to loom inward. Oppressive.
“It’s us versus them,” she said.
I almost flinched.
“But it shouldn’t be like that,” she whispered.
I began walking again, heart thumping hard against my rib cage. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call a limo?” I asked once more and pressed her hand to ground myself.
Nobody’s dead. Daiyu remembered nothing. And I’m still Jason Zhou. For now.
“No,” she replied. And already, her voice sounded stronger.
I remembered my first mugging on the streets, when I was fourteen. I had fought and survived, bloodied but alive, and hid in a hovel for two days. Too sick with fear and rage to do anything else.
“I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to . . . deal with people right now.” She gave me a sidelong glance. A silent plea.
“I’ll take you anywhere you want.”
By the time we had reached another winding alleyway and turned down it, it felt natural that we were walking hand in hand. It was an easy role to play.
After a long silence, during which Daiyu looked over her shoulder twice into the deserted passageway, she said, “You saved my life. Thank you seems inadequate.”
“I got us into this situation—”
“Do you always carry knives?” Her dark eyes were intense, quick and sharp in her pale face behind the glass helmet.
“Yes,” I replied, thinking fast. “I won first place for the knife-throwing competition back at Berkeley. Twice.”
“You did?” She sounded more dubious than amazed. “That’s a thing?”
It was now. I sent a message to Lingyi via thought command to make sure she planted the necessary fake photos and undernet posts to back my lie. “Sure. I’m hurt you’re not more impressed.”
Daiyu let out a low laugh, even if it sounded shaky.
Less than a minute later, Lingyi messaged me in helmet: Got your request. Nice of you to get in touch. Done. But did you have to win first place twice?
I cleared my throat to hide my smile. Sarcasm noted.
We reached my airped where we had left it less than half an hour before. I climbed on and Daiyu swung on behind me, as if she’d been climbing onto sleek motorcycles her entire life. The airped roared to life, and I revved the engine as we sped down the street like we were being chased by demons before it lifted into the air.
My heart surged with it.
It got me every time.
Daiyu’s arms were wound snugly around my waist, then she leaned closer. Her breasts pressed against my back, and one hand glided up to rest over my heart. Right above my tattoo.
“I was impressed, just so you know,” she said in that rich voice. And it sounded like she was whispering directly into my ear. I felt the hairs at the back of my neck lift. “You have perfect aim.”
I laughed.
Prideful.
Foolishly pleased like the Monkey King.
I took a sharp turn, and she gasped as she leaned with me, fingernails digging into my chest. A sense of protectiveness washed over me. Just as it had when I turned to face the thugs. I needed to keep Daiyu safe. Wanted to keep her safe. I didn’t miss the irony, as we left the Datong District far below us, that the person she needed most protection from, the one who could inflict the most damage in the end, would be me.
CHΔPTER TEN
I woke but didn’t know where I was. My whole body ached, as if someone had run a moped over me, then backed up and done it again. My head hurt the worst, throbbing with each heartbeat. Gods. What was that beeping noise? I forced my eyes open. I was lying in bed. Yes, my king-size bed. In my expensive apartment. And my Vox was flashing urgently on the nightstand beside me. I reached for it, and even that took effort. I fumbled with its screen, trying to answer the call.
Finally, I saw Lingyi’s face on the tiny screen, looking frantic.
“Zhou!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but no sound came out. My throat felt swollen and sore.
“Ai!” she exclaimed. “You’re sick.”
I blinked at her, then suddenly realized how hot I was. And how parched.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. Zhou, listen.”
My eyes had drifted closed again, and I willed them open, staring at the blurred image of Lingyi’s small face. I knew there was nothing wrong with the Vox—it was my vision.
“That man you checked into the hospital,” she said, “the one you tried to save in Liberty Square, had pneumonia.”
My hazy mind worked on that last word. Just like my mom had.
“Jason!” It was the first time she had used my English name, and it felt as if she had flung cold water in my face. “His death was exacerbated by the flu. An avian flu strain that the hospital had never seen before. Highly virulent. Arun was suspicious Patient Zero happened to be at Jin’s announcement. I did some research and connected him to Jin.” Her voice hitched, and I stared at her pinched face, rendered too pale against her dark purple hair. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Zhou, Jin released this flu strain—you might have caught it.”
Shit. A spasm of dry coughing seized me, wracked through my body until I felt limp and bruised.
“Zhou!” Lingyi sounded very far away. “We need to get help for you—”
I cut off our connection.
My mind was turning as slow as my ancient MacPlus on a bad day. But I knew one thing—no one could see me. I was highly contagious. If Jin’s avian flu strain could easily pass from person to person, we would have a pandemic on our hands.
My Vox began buzzing and flashing again. Ignoring it, I tried to call my doorman, Xiao Huang, by voice command but only managed a croak. I rolled toward the other bedside and swiped at the half-empty glass of water sitting there, miraculously not knocking it over. I poured the water into my mouth with a shaky hand, and most of it splashed over my face. But it was enough.
“Xiao Huang,” I said. The front door monitor buzzed, indicating he was on.
“I’m sick,” I rasped.
“So sorry to hear that, Mr., I mean, Jason.”
“Absolutely no visitors”—I drew a breath—“are allowed.”
“Yes, Jason. But—”
I cut him off too.
My Vox had stopped buzzing. I lay like deadweight in the plush bed, feeling as if I were a candle burning up from the inside. My body throbbed with pain. I closed my eyes. Not wanting to move. Not wanting to breathe. Wishing the aches would go away. I would probably die like this.
And in the end, I couldn’t even save that sick wretch in Liberty Square.
? ? ?
I became delirious after that.
I dreamed of Daiyu.
She came to nurse me, wiping a cold cloth across my brow, against my chest; murmuring softly as she coaxed me to drink water. She was in suit, and I tried to grab for her gloved hand. I’m sorry, I wanted to say. Sorry. I didn’t know what I was apologizing for.