I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs in front of me. “Hey,” I said. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
One look in her light brown eyes—lit by some inner fire—told me I was in trouble.
She sat down at the dining table across from me. “I have my internship at Jin Corp today.”
“So shouldn’t you be there, then?” I took a sip of my espresso, but it tasted too bitter now, and lukewarm. “Isn’t your father waiting for you?”
“He’s been gone. Busy promoting the cheaper suits abroad.”
I could feel her gaze on me, never leaving my face. I pretended to fiddle with my Vox. “You don’t want me to meet him, do you?”
I couldn’t meet Jin. There was always the risk that he’d recognize me from the image he had been sending around with those thugs. Unlikely, though still a possibility. But Daiyu had made that easy for me.
Why?
Daiyu shrugged. “My father gets weird about boys I . . .” She broke off and swept a hand through her hair, flustered.
Boys she secretly rode airpeds with?
Boys she ditched school to see?
Boys she barely knew whom she nursed when they got a killer flu?
Boys who kidnapped her and held her for large ransoms?
I forced myself to meet her eyes.
“Why do you seem so familiar to me, Jason?”
I almost jerked back, but tensed just in time. Damn these trendy glass tables that didn’t allow for me to clench my hands or fidget. I got up, shoving my fists into my jean pockets, wishing I were feeling the heft of a knife handle in them instead. “I don’t know,” I said. “You seem familiar to me too.”
I paced, trying to calm myself. Wondering if the memory-wipe was finally losing its hold on Daiyu.
Was she remembering?
She rose from the table too—smooth and elegant compared to my agitated movements. Standing before me in a few strides, she grabbed for my arm, and her subtle strawberry scent followed a second later.
“Maybe we knew each other in a past life?” I asked, trying to make my tone light.
She gazed up at me but didn’t reply.
I could only think of one way to distract her and took a step forward. Close. Closer than I should ever be. “Does this feel familiar, then?” My voice had gone rough, and I swallowed. Fought the impulse to clear my throat.
She nodded imperceptibly.
I raised my other hand and trailed my fingers through her soft hair, before cupping my palm against the back of her neck, leaning in, and kissing her. She stiffened at first, then swayed into me, and I could feel her melding against my body in parts: her breasts, her hips, her thighs. She wrapped both arms around my neck and opened her mouth to me.
Gods.
My body felt electrified, every nerve standing on end. Crackling.
But I held back. Tried to hold back. I shouldn’t have done this. Though she was urging me to kiss her deeper, seeking me with her tongue, so I gave in to the sensations. Gave in to the kiss. My hand gripped her waist, the other still clasping the back of her neck. Daiyu let her palms wander, across my shoulders then my chest, trailing her fingertips down my stomach. All the while exploring, tasting me with her lips and her tongue, as though if she kissed me long enough, she’d find the answer she sought so desperately. The reality was so much better than anything I’d fantasized. My body couldn’t help but react. And she felt it too, because she ground her pelvis into me. I made an involuntary sound at the back of my throat, jumping out of my own skin, fighting the urge to tug her toward the bed.
I grasped her wrists and stumbled back, breaking our kiss. We were both out of breath, and she stared at me, face flushed. Dazed.
“Daiyu . . .” I took another unsteady step backward.
“We’ve never done that before,” she said in a husky voice. “I would remember.”
I laughed—low and raw—amazed I could draw enough air.
“So why does it feel like I’ve met you before?” she whispered and gripped my chin, forcing me to see her.
“I don’t know why,” I replied, twisting my head. It took everything I had not to kiss her again, to finish what we had started. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She caressed my cheek for a moment, then let her hand drop. “I don’t know what I want you to say either.”
A sudden downpour, and a gust of wind slammed against the floor-to-ceiling windows as heavy rain pelted from the heavens, obscuring the weighted silence that hung between us.
? ? ?
Victor and I were back on the National Taiwan University campus to meet Arun by six p.m.. He was unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes, but ecstatic, because he and his team were able to manufacture over two hundred antidotes. And they were making more. Victor had hired a nondescript blue van for us to drive to Wanhua, a district in the southwest of Taipei, where sightings of the large warehouses with sick meis trapped within had been confirmed. It had been decided that an aircar would have drawn too much attention. I helped Arun load the syringes carefully placed in sealed holding trays into the back of the van. Arun showed us how to wear the hazmat suits, and we put them on before starting off.
As Victor drove through the streets of Taipei, I couldn’t stop thinking of Daiyu, and that staggering kiss we had shared. She had left right after, and we said nothing more to each other than good-bye. She wanted the truth, and I couldn’t give it to her.
Rooftop billboards beamed down on us—beautiful men and women trying to sell us beautiful things. The chill wind swept through my rolled-down window, rough against my face. We had discussed our plans and strategies while on campus, but had fallen silent during the drive. I was nervous but excited. If my friends and I could help meis infected with Jin’s virus, it would seriously curb the flu’s spread. A sense of anticipation seemed to fill the van, and I knew Arun and Vic were eager to get to our first site too.
Victor parked on a deserted main road in Wanhua, empty of cars and people. A few gaping storefronts lined one side of the street, and the other side was dominated by the remains of an abandoned park, overgrown with brush and weeds. A large concrete warehouse stood adjacent to the park—what used to be a biscuit factory. The street lamps were few, and the ones that were working provided scant light. We got out of the van and slipped on our full face respirators.