“Go on without me,” I replied. The thought of returning to headquarters without seeing Victor flashing a cocky grin was unbearable. I didn’t want to share my grief. I needed to hold it alone first.
Iris flexed her gloved hands. “He’s not coming,” she said. It took me a second to realize she was speaking to Lingyi.
She stalked toward me then, and I took a step back, not wanting to fight. At this point, I knew I’d lose. Instead, she stuck her earpiece into my ear.
“Come home, Zhou,” Lingyi said, her voice thick. I could tell she had been crying.
“Is Arun all right?”
“I’m here, bro. Where were you?” Arun asked. “I searched all through the basement.”
“There are two levels,” Lingyi said in a low voice, having overheard Arun’s frantic query.
Arun had been on the wrong floor.
“I need some time,” I finally replied, hoarse. “Victor’s dead.” I knew they must have known, but I needed to say it aloud.
“Oh, Zhou.” Lingyi broke into a long sob. “I know. Go with Iris. Please.”
My vision blurred. “I can’t.” I felt Daiyu’s hand again, her fingers pressing gently against my palm. “I’m going with Daiyu.”
“She’s Jin’s daughter, Zhou,” Iris said, not bothering to keep the contempt from her voice.
I met her gaze. Her dark eyes gleamed faintly from a faraway streetlight. “And she saved my life. She saved yours.”
“You’re angry,” Lingyi replied. “Because we failed to find you. We left you there—”
“No,” I cut her off. “I’m not angry. It was always the mission first. We all knew that.” We had abided by it, and lost Victor because of it. At this moment, when we should have been feeling triumphant, I only felt numb. Grief swelled in the shadows, waiting, and all too familiar.
“It was the hardest call I ever had to make,” Lingyi said, sounding broken. “I had to force Arun out of the building.”
“You did right.” I wiped the ash and tears from my eyes. “It’s why you’re our boss.”
She hiccupped a tiny laugh. “Then come home. I command it.”
“I’ll see you, boss.” I removed the earpiece and handed it back to Iris.
She had been crying too, but looked so furious, I feared she would try and drag me with her by the ear. Instead, she turned without a word and ran into the night, disappearing like smoke down a dark alleyway.
Distant sirens wailed, drawing closer.
“Jason,” Daiyu said. “Your secret—what your friends did tonight—I’ll never tell.”
I nodded, wanting more than anything to fall into her arms, to hold her. Because it felt like I’d lost everything again, with Jin Corp’s collapse.
“Thank you for . . .” What? Saving my life? Promising to keep our secret? “Everything.” I kissed Daiyu’s hand before letting go.
She caught my wrist again firmly. “You told your friends you’re coming with me . . . tonight.”
“I was being presumptuous,” I said with a faint smile. Even that hurt my bruised face. But I did choose her. I didn’t explain that this choice would wedge a divide between me and my friends longer than just one night. I knew that Lingyi and Iris would see it as a betrayal, as embracing the yous. I didn’t know where Arun would stand. Victor would probably tease me relentlessly for choosing a girl over my “ideals”—but it was more than that. I had gone into this seeing the world in stark contrast: black and white, us versus them. Now I knew it wasn’t as simple as that.
Then my mind stuttered. Vic was gone. Dead.
“No, you weren’t,” she said.
“But first tell me why,” I said, voice rasping. She tilted her face up toward me, and the single light farther down the alley cast her face in shadows. “Why did you let us use your security code? When you knew?”
“I didn’t know anything for certain,” she whispered, her voice faltering too. “But I had begun to track my father’s activities and started to suspect . . . things. He had given me high clearance at Jin Corp, but I was able to send a message to security as him, requesting the highest clearance for me. Full access. I saw what he had been doing—bribing the politicians against environmental reform, threatening them if they didn’t cooperate . . .”
That’s why we had been able to use Daiyu’s security code at the citadel, why she had access to the restricted lab so we could steal the flu virus. Jin had underestimated his own daughter.
“I didn’t know if I could trust you, but I followed my instincts and took a chance.” She slid her hand into mine, and the corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I hesitated a moment, then nodded. I had been the one who had judged her, made presumptions because she was you. She had surprised me again and again, but tonight, after all she told me, I wasn’t surprised. It made sense. Daiyu loved Taiwan as much as I did. I remembered the girl silhouetted against the glass wall in my old home on Yangmingshan, the wild jungle foliage as her backdrop. She had looked outside with such wistful yearning. I hadn’t understood then that it wasn’t only the meis who had suffered in our pollution-ravaged city. We walked together in silence, then she turned onto another empty street. The air was humid with rain, smelling almost of spring, and a toad croaked somewhere in the distance—a deep and satisfied noise.
She could be leading me straight to her father. Or toward a group of criminals waiting to take care of me once and for all. But I didn’t truly believe it. My friends and I had completed our mission. It was done. And tonight I chose to follow my heart.
CHΔPTER SIXTEEN
Daiyu led me farther into the twisting alleyways. This was the same area where we had been approached by two desperate muggers last month. And although I kept my ears tuned to the noises around us, I was filled with a sense of brashness after what had happened tonight. Exhaustion mixed with excitement tinged with grief. I didn’t really care where Daiyu was taking me, as long as I was with her. Somehow, after all the lies, and beneath both of our agendas, I suddenly understood that I trusted her.
Despite everything.
“Are you going to tell me how you remembered?” I finally risked asking, breaking our silence.
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Later.”
She finally stopped in one of the narrow streets, a short ways from a Yamaha Blade, exactly like mine, but the most expensive model, tricked out with a personalized paint job and actual gems embedded into its body and frame. The bike was painted a deep, seductive red, with golden flames decorating its front panel and sides. Inexplicably, two silver horns jutted from the handlebars. Daiyu saw where I was gazing and said, “Because I was born in the year of the goat.”
A year younger than me. No wonder she was so stubborn.
“This is your airped?” I said.
She approached the gorgeous motorcycle and the instrument panel lit up in neon blue. Golden lights hidden in its body illuminated the entire airped on the darkened street, creating a halo around it. “Yes, mine.”
She climbed on, and I simply stared, admiring the way her body moved, how she settled herself comfortably on the gold leather seat, straddling it with her long legs.