Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

As it turned out, when Lady Cai said that she needed accompaniment to the city temple in the afternoon, she meant the very minute noon passed, and now Juliette was late. When the car came to a stop, Juliette leaned into the rearview mirror and retouched her hair once more before tumbling out, searching for her mother and her cousins. She tried not to bristle when indeed she found Rosalind and Kathleen alongside her mother, as well as Tyler with a group of his men.

Since his stunt with the safe house, the Scarlets had praised him with vigor. She was having quite some trouble doing the same.

“We almost thought you wouldn’t come,” Rosalind said as Juliette joined her, eyes still fixed on Tyler. He was cleaning his pistol, twisting a cloth roughly along the barrel. If he wasn’t careful around the trigger, it was going to go off and then one of his men would have a hole blown through the stomach.

“I didn’t think everyone left so early.” Her mother had sighted her now and was coming this way. “What is Tyler doing here?”

“He came with your mother,” Kathleen supplied, standing to Rosalind’s other side with her arms crossed. “Extra protection for the walk.”

Juliette tried not to grit her teeth so hard. She was going to put a crack in her jaw at this rate.

“Ready?” Lady Cai asked, smoothing her qipao down and waving them along. Tyler stayed put where he was, his men spreading out along the entrance into the temple walls, but Juliette gave him one last look before turning and following after her mother.

“So, I heard an interesting rumor.”

In synchrony, Juliette and Rosalind lifted a foot over the protruding threshold into the temple. Anytime Juliette needed to do this to enter a building, she could gauge its age—gauge that it had been built before the roads were entirely smooth and the people had needed to protect against the possibility of floods. The temple itself was a quaint building, but a vast courtyard circled its perimeter, protected by tall, sun-faded walls with two golden gateways to the north and south, each facing the sides of the dusty red temple.

Rosalind’s eyes slid over. “Quoi?”

“Une rumeur,” Juliette repeated, perhaps with an unnecessary bout of flourish as she switched to French too. “Floating around the city.”

“You know better than to—” Rosalind stopped suddenly, looking beside her. When Juliette turned too, she realized it was because Kathleen had stalled behind, pausing just after the entranceway, looking around the courtyard. It appeared like she was waiting for something.

“Mèimei,” Rosalind called. “You okay?”

A small smile played at Kathleen’s lips. “I’m fine.”

Juliette and Rosalind waited for her to catch up, walking again only when Kathleen had fallen back in step. They passed a silver xiānglú—one that was so enormous it looked like a giant bowl fitted with an awning. Three women stood around it to light their incense, delicately holding their sleeves so as not to get caught in the flames in the basin.

“We were just talking about Rosalind’s lover,” Juliette said to Kathleen.

“Shh!” Rosalind immediately hissed, her gaze snapping up to make sure Lady Cai hadn’t heard.

“Then it is true,” Kathleen exclaimed.

“Do the both of you want to yell any louder?”

“No one here understands us, c’est pas grave.” Juliette bounced in her step. “Why haven’t you told us? Where did you meet?”

Rosalind’s expression tightened. “You really should not trust what the whispers say.”

“Rosalind.” Kathleen sounded stern now, as if she just wanted an answer. “Why are you being so secretive about this?”

“Because . . .” Rosalind swept another look around. By then they had almost reached the temple building, trailing far behind Lady Cai, who was climbing the steps up. There was no one around them, no one to overhear their conversation even if they happened to speak French.

“Because?” Kathleen prompted.

And all in one breath, Rosalind said, “Because he’s associated with the White Flowers, okay?”

Juliette felt a sudden lump in her throat. The smell of incense permeated the entire courtyard, getting stronger with the closer they approached the temple. It clotted in her nostrils, almost choking her airways if she didn’t just exhale—

“That, I didn’t expect,” Kathleen remarked evenly. “Here I was thinking it was politics, and you gave me blood feud instead.” Meaningfully, Kathleen caught Juliette’s eye. Rosalind didn’t know about Juliette’s past with Roma . . . but Kathleen had some idea, even if it was not the full picture.

“It’s not ideal, Rosalind,” Juliette finally choked out. Speaking from personal experience. From very, very personal experience. “If my parents find out—”

“Which is exactly why they won’t.” Rosalind lifted the edge of her qipao, starting up the steps. Kathleen made to follow, but Juliette’s skirts swished around freely at the knees. “We were first introduced in a bar on neutral territory, and I only ever see him in places that switch between Scarlet and White Flower just about every second day. Give it some more time and I’ll have convinced him away from the White Flowers. No one has to know.”

Juliette tried to shake off her terror. She nudged her cousin, hoping that a faked brightness would inject real energy into her outlook. “No one has to know,” she echoed. “We’ll help you—right, Kathleen?”

Kathleen, on the other hand, was not afraid of grimacing. She didn’t even try to look happy. “Ugh, I suppose. It’s a dangerous game, Rosalind. But we’re on your side.”

It was a dangerous game, but nowhere near as dangerous as the one Juliette was playing. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t the same. That Rosalind could be happy, that they didn’t all have to end in bloodshed.

“The three of you walk so slowly,” Lady Cai said when they finally caught up. Inside the temple, the daylight seemed muted, stopping outside the open doors like it didn’t have an invitation. Instead, the red of the shrines took on its own glow, casting the temple in a warm sheen.

“Merely taking in the parameters, Māma,” Juliette replied.

Lady Cai blew out a short breath like she didn’t believe her. “I see the client. Don’t go far, Juliette. Maybe—” Her mother waved her hand at the far wall, where a smattering of women knelt in front of symbolic deities. They would kētóu three times, foreheads briefly touching the floor mats, then plant their incense into the shrines. “Qù shāoxiāng ba?”

Juliette scoffed. “I think the ancestors might strike me down if I initiate any contact with them. I’ll just wait here. Kathleen and Rosalind can go if they want.”

Kathleen and Rosalind exchanged a glance. They both shrugged. As Lady Cai left to approach the client, Juliette’s two cousins found their own incense sticks and went back outside to light them, leaving Juliette to wander about the temple.

“Don’t be offended, ancestors,” Juliette murmured under her breath. “I’ll bring you a few extra oranges next time.” She cast a glance at her mother. The meeting seemed mundane: two women speaking to each other about matters designated as more delicate than their husbands could handle. The woman handed over a stack of papers. Lady Cai scanned through them. Juliette turned back to the shrines, chewing on her thoughts.

A Frenchman, a monster, a blackmailer. Communists, Nationalists, civil war.

A vaccine, ready to circulate.

She simply wasn’t working with enough information. All she had was conjecture. No names, no sources. And while she was supposed to be thinking about fixing the state of the city, she was thinking about Rosalind’s plight too, and how unfair it was that even after the blackmailer was gone, the city would always, always be divided.

Juliette scanned their surroundings again, patient as her mother’s conversation went on. It was this time that she sighted the long pew in the corner of the temple and became fixated there, finding something of note. As Juliette stepped closer, she saw one girl seated alone, reading a small book. Something about her blond hair was familiar.

Juliette stiffened. She spared another glance over at her mother to ensure Lady Cai was not looking her way, then, as quickly as she dared, hurried over to the pew.

“Alisa Montagova,” Juliette hissed. “This is Scarlet territory. What are you doing here?”

Alisa’s head jerked up, her eyes widening. She slapped her book closed, as if the illicit activity at present was her reading.

“I—” The girl winced. “I wasn’t going to stay long. I just didn’t think anyone would care about the blood feud in a women’s temple.”

“Okay, but”—Juliette looked around again—“why? Why are you here?”

Alisa blinked, seeming to realize that Juliette’s panic was not over her presence alone. She had tried to seem tough, but now her expression was tightening in confusion. “We had a funeral in the cemetery a few streets over. I got tired of standing, so I snuck away.”

The cemetery a few streets over . . . Juliette tried to envision the layout of the city in this region, knowing immediately which cemetery Alisa was referring to. In her head, she traced their route out, assuming attendees were to move from that section of White Flower territory and into the east of the city, where most of them lived. No matter what, they needed to pass the front of the temple, where Tyler was currently waiting with all his men.

Juliette spat a curse. “Who was present, Alisa? Your father? Inner circle?”

By now Alisa had gotten to her feet. Juliette’s concern was scaring her. “No, not Papa. But Roma and Dimitri—”

A bullet went off in the distance, outside the temple walls. To anyone else, it could have sounded like a rickshaw crash or a food cart coming up hard against the sidewalk. But Juliette knew better. She shot off, tearing through the courtyard, already reaching for the weapons on her body. By the time she was approaching the gate of the temple walls, the scene was already unfolding before her: twenty, thirty gangsters, and civilians—so many civilians nearby, looking stunned.

Too many civilians for gunfire. Too many likely victims of stray bullets. The gangsters in the brawl had realized too, else there wouldn’t be so many going at hand-to-hand combat now, else there wouldn’t be a White Flower half strangling Tyler, almost pressing her cousin to the floor.

Without slowing in her run, Juliette jumped over the threshold of the temple entrance and pulled the knife sheathed at her thigh. When she threw, the blade pierced into the White Flower’s neck smoothly, striking its target with nary a sound before the White Flower pitched sideways and fell.

“You’re welcome,” Juliette snapped, coming to a stop in front of Tyler and holding out a hand.

Tyler grinned. He gripped her fingers and stood. “Thank you, dearest cousin. Duck.”

Juliette dove to the side without questioning it. A White Flower lunged forward, and Tyler engaged, but as Juliette spun around, still locked in her crouch, her gaze shot through the chaos and locked right with another figure who had paused in the fray.

“Tā mā de,” she muttered. Roma.

A sudden prickle of an idea occurred to her. As Roma marched forward, locked on her for a target and probably intent on running a dagger through her heart, Juliette formed her plan. He wouldn’t respond to her messages, wouldn’t work with her any longer, but she needed him. Who better to know whether there was a White Flower sect collaborating with the Communists than Roma Montagov, heir of the White Flowers? If he would speak to her only to fight the blood feud, then Juliette would use the blood feud.

Juliette shot to her feet, trying to make a break for it. She could cut an easy path through the brawl. She could stay low and dart through that empty pocket of space. . . .

Someone grabbed her by the back of the neck. Juliette sensed a blade—or something—about to come down on her, and her hands launched up. She pulled, yanking the arm over her shoulder until she heard a socket pop. Her attacker shouted. Just as he tried to bring the knife in his other hand down, Juliette darted out of the way and spun around, pressing her forearm against her attacker’s neck, both of her feet braced against the concrete road.

It wasn’t Roma who had grabbed her; it was Dimitri Voronin. A quick snap of her eyes confirmed Roma was still trying to fight through the thick of the brawl, but he was on the move toward her.

“Juliette Cai,” Dimitri greeted, acting like they were exchanging pleasantries. “I heard you grew up a socialite. Where did you learn to grapple like a street urchin?”

“I gather you don’t know much about socialites.”

Using his height against him, she hooked a foot behind his knee, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and slammed Dimitri’s head into the ground. She kept moving, emerging from the fight and scanning the temple walls quickly. Alisa had followed her out, peeking from the archway of the temple entrance.

Juliette shot a look over her shoulder. Roma was still watching her. Good.

“Come with me.”

Alisa blinked, taken aback by Juliette’s sudden appearance before her. “What?”

Without waiting for an answer, Juliette hauled Alisa by the arm and took off.