Prologue

Winter, 88 BCE

Outside Chang’An, The Imperial Capitol

The bitter wind howled, rattling bare tree branches and stirring up the snow that had blanketed the world during the day. Most poor creatures huddled in their homes, hiding from the things that lurked in the thick shadows of night, clinging to the flickering candles and dying flames that guttered in the hearth. The pathetic few who were stuck on guard duty around the protective outer walls of the manor house had no choice but to brave the icy cold. The armor did nothing to block the wind. It only bit at the flesh and carried the crunch of snow under their feet to those who watched them.

Cloaked all in black with a cloth across the lower half of his face, Li Xiang crouched on a tree branch, studying the patrol from overhead as they moved sluggishly in the same pattern. The quiet and the cold had made the guards lazy and vulnerable. He glanced to his right where Zhang Junjie balanced on a nearby tree limb, all but his eyes hidden, and they were filled with equal parts apprehension and determination.

In a few short years, Jiang Chong had further culled Sword of the Heavenly Garden Sect numbers to fewer than two dozen, but they’d also come into their powers, making them a near-unstoppable force in the service of Emperor Wu.

Tonight, the Emperor had dispatched them to put down another den of conspirators plotting against the Dragon Throne.

There was no audible signal. Just a blur of black that left the guards on patrol dead. Xiang took the lead, leaping over the wall with Junjie a step behind him. The layout of the large estate was like others they’d infiltrated over the past several months. Buildings linked through a series of swept paths and small curved bridges over water features that now held a thin layer of ice. Torches flickered here and there to push back the gathering darkness, but there were still plenty of shadows for them to linger in as they took out one guard after another.

Their orders were simple: everyone had to die. Every man, woman, and child, from the head of the house to the lowest servant. A pestilence such as betrayal could only be eradicated by pulling it out from the roots.

Xiang didn’t allow his conscience to give even the slightest protest. Their actions were protecting the nation and were the will of the emperor.

The wind howled, masking their light footfalls as more of his martial brothers reached the interior courtyard and moved to dispatch any living creature. No one had the chance to raise an alarm. Tonight, most would be killed in their beds, never knowing how death had stalked these halls. But they still had to locate the conspirators who were meeting in secret.

With Junjie at his heels, Xiang cut to the right and started working his way through the building. They checked each room, killing everyone with a stab to the heart or a slash to the throat. He didn’t allow himself to see faces.

There were very few people here despite the overwhelming size of the estate. So far, he’d encountered almost all guards and three old servants. This couldn’t be right. For a home this size, the lord would require dozens of servants to keep up with the buildings and grounds. The number of guards was high, but Jiang Chong had hinted that the conspirators who were meeting tonight were of the nobility.

After they finished checking the last of the rooms, Xiang paused and looked over at his companion. So far, no one had raised an alarm. Silence blanketed the sprawling estate while blood painted the white snow red. Another team was taking the buildings to the left, while a third team was wiping out anyone in the rear buildings. Their next task was to attack the central building, where the conspirators were supposed to be meeting.

“Something feels off,” Junjie whispered as he looked around, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting to see a specter watching them. Not the newly dead, but their master, Jiang Chong. He had left the attack to the sect, but they all knew he was watching from some dark, secret corner, making sure they were following his orders.

“Too easy?” Xiang inquired, trying to smile at Junjie, but his expression remained hidden behind his mask.

“No. Too empty. There should have been more servants. Everyone knows Luo Jia Wei has a large family, along with several concubines, but there has been no sign of them.”

Xiang grunted and turned his gaze toward the central building. “He must have left them at his estate inside of Chang’An. They’ll be taken care of after tonight.” What he didn’t say was that he was still hoping that the task would not fall to their sect, but to some of the emperor’s other private guards. While he understood that conspiring against the emperor was a death sentence, he didn’t care to be the blade swinging at the necks of children and women who knew nothing of the plans of their lord.

Sharpening his voice, Xiang continued, “It’s not our place to question. We need to move now.”

He didn’t give Junjie a chance to argue. Sticking to the shadows, even though all the guards were dead, they cut across the courtyard and approached the three-story central building with elegant tiers of roofs and dragons perched on the peaks of the curved eaves. Tonight, those dragons could only watch as the betrayers to the nation were eliminated.

They paused at the main doors to the central building. The guards lay dead, their throats torn out. Blood poured from the wounds, crawling in a growing pool across the floor. Jiang Chong had beaten them to the building. Rather than a blade, their new master preferred to use his bare hands and talonlike nails to cut down his enemies. With a nod from Junjie, Xiang slid open the door and rushed inside to find Jiang Chong facing the gathering in black robes and a wintry smile.

Four other men were in the room, rising from their chairs, their faces were panic-stricken and pale.

“Jiang Chong! I thought Crown Prince Ju killed you!”

A chuckle crawled out of his master’s throat. “You’d be surprised how often I hear that.”

But Xiang barely paid him any heed. His head whipped around at the voice of the speaker. “A-die?”?1 slipped out before he could catch himself. What the hell was his father doing there?

“Xiang-er?”?2

“Yes, isn’t this quite an illustrious gathering?” Jiang Chong purred, lifting his hands up to the tense gathering of conspirators. “We have the honorable Luo Jia Wei, Minister Li Guangli, and even Emperor Wu’s beloved brothers, Liu Ci and Liu An.”

Junjie pinched a bit of Xiang’s sleeve, pulling him a step back as others in their sect joined them. Figures hidden in black surrounded the four men. Other than Jiang Chong, only Xiang’s identity had been revealed, but it didn’t matter.

Xiang’s heart raced and his ears became clogged so that he could barely hear anything that Jiang Chong said. His father was here. How could his father be one of the conspirators? Li Guangli had sent his son to the Sword of the Heavenly Garden Sect so he could train to become a loyal, stalwart general under the emperor and protect the nation they so loved. His father had always been loyal to the emperor, right?

This had to be a mistake.

“You are all charged with conspiring against the Dragon Throne and have been branded traitors. Your lives are forfeit,” Jiang Chong announced, sending a biting cold straight to the pit of Xiang’s stomach.

“Lies!” Luo Jia Wei shouted.

With a smirk, Jiang Chong pulled a red scroll from his belt and held it up above his head. “I carry an edict from the emperor.”

Liu An gripped his brother’s shoulder and stepped in front of him, as if wanting to shield him from Jiang Chong and the hideous order that held their lives. “Emperor Wu is dying. There’s no point in hiding any longer that illness has gripped him since the start of winter.”

Liu Ci dropped into his chair as if his legs had given out and passed a hand over his graying hair, pulling loose a couple of strands that now stuck to the sweat glistening on his forehead. “We’re worried about the emperor and the nation.”

Xiang dared to slide his gaze to his father to find that he’d been staring at him this entire time. His face had turned so ghastly pale, but there was still some fire in his eyes, hints of the stubborn man who’d spent a lifetime maneuvering his way through the court to attain a prominent position. The man who’d plotted out the course of his children’s lives with the same ruthlessness.

Straightening his spine, Xiang gripped the edge of his mask and pulled it below his chin as he met his father’s stare. Li Guangli wanted him to be a great protector of the Dragon Throne, and that was what he’d become.

Li Guangli’s muscles flexed in his jaw, and his eyes snapped from his son to Jiang Chong. “The emperor has lost his way. The man who brought Confucian reforms to our government, expanded our lands, and even solidified our trade routes to the west through taming the nomadic tribes is gone. For years, our people have been mired in endless battles that have gained us no ground and high taxation that has driven the peasants to revolt. He listens to false claims of conspiracy and witchcraft that ended in the death of loyal Crown Prince Ju.”

“Even the emperor must understand that his time is dwindling,” Liu An pressed.

“And what?” Jiang Chong interrupted, his tone almost laughing as he tucked the edict in his belt. “The emperor’s brothers are plotting to steal the Dragon Throne before it has even lost the heat of Emperor Wu’s body?”

Liu Ci dropped his trembling hand on the arm of the chair and sighed. “My brother and I have no desire to rule, but since the death of Crown Prince Ju, Emperor Wu has not named a new heir. He has two level-headed sons, Liu Dan and Liu Xu. Either of them can chart a strong path forward for the nation, but if he passes without a name on the Dragon Scroll, the nation could fall into turmoil.”

“Who says the emperor has not completed a new Dragon Scroll since the passing of Crown Prince Ju?” Jiang Chong grinned as he lifted his free hand. “I held it in my hand and passed it along to the head eunuch just the other day.”

“What? Why hasn’t it been announced?” Liu An demanded.

“I’m afraid the emperor remains skeptical of the skills of the Prince of Yan and the Prince of Guangling,” Jiang Chong corrected, using the formal titles of the emperor’s two eldest sons.

The four conspirators twisted to stare at each other as they took in Jiang Chong’s words. A mocking smile continued to play on the vampire’s lips, chilling Xiang to his core. He had no doubt that what Jiang Chong said was the truth. He alone held the emperor’s full trust.

“I-I don’t understand,” Luo Jia Wei stammered. “If Emperor Wu doesn’t wish to make Liu Dan or Liu Xu the next crown prince, whose name is on the Dragon Scroll?”

“You can’t mean Liu Fuling!” Xiang’s father gasped. “The child hasn’t even reached his sixth birthday yet. The emperor’s health is far too fragile for him to remain alive long enough to guide the youngest prince to his majority. A regent would need to be named?—”

Jiang Chong’s deep sleeves swung out like a pair of black wings as he placed his hands before him and bowed to the small gathering. “Regent Huo Guang, at your service. I am prepared to guide the nation and oversee the training of the young crown prince until he is of proper age to ascend to the Dragon Throne as the next emperor.”

The fierce howl of the wind was the only thing to break the suffocating silence of the room, as it rushed past the windows and battered the walls. Winter’s cold reached in to freeze Xiang’s thoughts. Jiang Chong, in a new disguise, was going to claim the title of regent? He was going to be running the nation?

This felt…wrong.

Frightening for all the people of their nation.

But it was the will of the emperor. Xiang’s one job now was to protect the emperor and carry out his will.

As he straightened, Jiang Chong huffed a laugh and added, “You need not worry about the new crown prince’s mother. Emperor Wu has already ordered that Consort Zhao will not live to see his last days. After suffering under the thumb of the Grand Empress Dowager Dou at the beginning of his reign, he does not wish for the crown prince to fight a similar battle for power with his mother.”

Jiang Chong clapped his hands together, the sharp sound seeming to startle the gathering of conspirators from their thoughts. “But you won’t have to worry about the future of the Dragon Throne or this nation for another moment.” He placed his hands together so that they were lost within the voluminous sleeves and turned his head to Xiang on his right. “Complete your duty to your emperor,” he commanded, his voice colder than the icy wind still crying outside the building.

Xiang stepped forward, his fist tightening on the hilt of his sword. His step hesitated for a heartbeat when he felt a tug on his sleeve, reminding him that Junjie was still holding on to him. But on the next step, Junjie moved around him, approaching the men standing on the left.

Lifting his sword, he stared deep into his father’s pale-brown eyes. Nearly a decade had passed since he’d last stood before this man. There were more lines crisscrossing his face, reaching out from his eyes and bracketing the thin lips of his mouth. Gray hairs filled his temples where his hair had been pure black not that long ago. Even his figure was fuller now with middle age, as if the hard man had softened with luxury and excess from living within the imperial capital.

Regardless of his reasons, no one had a right to sway the mind of the emperor regarding the heir to the throne. The emperor’s will represented heaven’s will, not man’s.

His father was just a man.

And now he was a traitor.

“I was raised to be the protector of the Dragon Throne. We are the emperor’s blades.”

When he lowered his sword, hot blood splashed across his face and the light faded from his father’s eyes, but neither touched the coldness that had settled over his soul.

1 ?A-die – father. Sounds like AH-dee-ah

2 ?-er – an addition to a name to signify a close relationship. Often added to a child’s given name by parents