Night Critters (Collection) (23 page)

She laced her fingers together in front of her chest and pressed inward, hoping to relieve the ache in her heart. Squeezing her fingers until they were white-knuckled didn't do much more than add another layer of pain, so she tried to swallow back the insane desire to jump in his arms and protect him with her wings. “That's dumb. You weren't that pissed at me, were you? I was a bitch, but..."

He reached for the jeans and slid them on, unconcerned about the lack of underwear. “No. I was more angry at myself for lusting for a beautiful American. I permitted myself to be distracted from my work, and now all the aid that would have gone to China must by necessity come to aid the poor here. Even your government has spending limits. I failed in my mission and caused my own downfall. I deserve my fate."

Staci muttered, “You don't know American politicians very well, do you?” She had one hope left. The secretary had promised he had a plan to prove his master's innocence. However, he'd made her swear she would speak of it to no one, not even Jiao. Even she didn't know what the plan was. She ground her teeth in frustration. “I can't believe you caused the flood, Jiao. Minor luck god or not, dammit."

Now warmly dressed and with color returning to his face, Jiao slid his feet into the slipper-like shoes the secretary had provided to Staci, claiming they were his master's favorites. He stepped over and kissed her forehead. “Your faith in me makes my heart sing with joy, but you cannot deny that many charities who might have given aid to China's children will now be unable to do so. Their efforts must go to their own first. Untuck your tail and honor me with being a prideful Neph who loses her mate with grace."

Staci allowed him to lift her chin with one hand, though her eyes shimmered with tears. In two seconds, her fear and despair turned to rage. Recognizing he was her life-mate only made her angry and ready to defend him with bared teeth and... gods help her! A flaming sword appeared in her right hand. She stared at the sword. “Wouldn't you know? I couldn't conjure one of these things all my life, but now I get one just because the were-bitch in me is determined to fight for her mate?"

Jiao stepped back a pace, shaking his head and smiling despite his damnable honor. “You're even more beautiful when you are alight with what you believe is righteous anger, but this is a fight you cannot hope to win."

Guards rushed in and grabbed her arms, yelling in Chinese. She couldn't understand a word they said, but their implication was clear. They thought she'd use the sword to either kill Jiao or free him. Neither one suited their purposes. They dragged her out, five burly men on one small female. Chicken shits.

Staci didn't struggle despite the masses of bruises she'd have on her arms and body. Everything hurt—her head, her arms, and her heart. She lost her footing, and they gave her no time to get to her feet. She screamed at the figure in the shadows, rapidly receding from view. “I'm not giving up, Jiao! Never!"

"Then listen to the kitsune.” The door slammed, cutting his words off.

"What the hell's a kitsune?” Staci shouted at the door before realizing it was fruitless. He'd never hear her question, and she'd never hear his answer.

However, the biggest guard continued to be kind. He gave her a shocked look. “A demon."

Half an hour later, Staci stormed out the doors of the embassy. From the averted eyes and lack of smiles, she judged everyone knew about her affair with the traitor ambassador. She dug her phone out of her purse and dialed. “Hello? Mom? What are you doing this afternoon? Great. See you in a few."

Staci shut her phone down and grinned wickedly. “Time to bring in the big guns."

The locking mechanism beeped in Jiao's cell. He looked up in surprise. His time of exercise in the windowless embassy gymnasium upstairs would not be for some hours, but he admitted to himself any visitation was welcome. Meditation brought him no peace. Instead of the welcome faces of Staci, his faithful secretary, or even one of the diplomatic staff, the door opened on one of his guards.

This guard took great pleasure in teasing Jiao and muttering hateful things, in hopes of disturbing what fragile peace Jiao managed to gather. This time, the guard's smile was especially cruel. He carried a portable vid, which he set on the stone table. “You have been accorded special privileges.” Without waiting for a comment from Jiao, he turned on a newsvid. “You will find this most interesting.” With that cryptic comment, he left and deliberately slammed the door so the sound echoed painfully.

The American newsvid anchorwoman spoke calmly. Jiao recognized the channel as being one known for the kind of sensational journalism which was very popular with the masses. “While the former Chinese UNESCO Ambassador remains incarcerated, awaiting return to Beijing, the sex tape remains the most-watched vid on the net."

Jiao groaned as a video from the normally secret security system from his room played as a short clip, detailing Staci's naked form screaming happily, her breasts bouncing for the world to view. Such an invasion of privacy infuriated Jiao, but there was little he could do about it.

Even the male anchor smiled avidly. “Wow, that's pretty hot stuff, Marsha. I can see why it's popular."

The woman calmly went on, despite the erotic nature of the clip now playing in the background behind her head. “Yes, Jack. Unfortunately, FCC regulations prevent us from showing the whole scene, but you get the idea. Right now, Miss Staci Thornburn, scion of the famous Thornburn clan, is holed up in a meeting with her mother at the offices of Angel Enterprises, but..."

Jiao winced as the screen changed to a live shot of a hundred or more people holding signs and chanting. Many of the signs had ugly accusations such as “Share the Wealth” and “You'll Pay, Traitor."

Jack the anchorman pursed his lips. “They're really baying for her blood, aren't they?"

Marsha smiled thinly. “Yes, they are, Jack. All the poor whose homes were destroyed in the flood are now demanding personal retribution from the wealthy Miss Thornburn, calling her ‘The Bad Luck Angel.’ According to our sources, the Chinese authorities are considering her arrest and extradition as a possible co-conspirator to the traitorous ambassador who caused the flood, citing the fact that her family's construction business will profit from the rebuilding effort. No comment from Thornburn Construction, as of yet."

Jiao snarled and tried to punch the button to turn the vid off, but the button broke beneath his finger, probably sabotaged by the guard.

The anchorman pursed his lips. “There are her defenders, however. Let's roll the clip."

The elf family they'd rescued appeared on screen, telling how Jiao and Staci had flown them to safety, but the news station gave them only a few seconds of air time before returning to their live shot of the angry mob.

Jiao smiled briefly at the memory of the little elf boy's accurate prediction that he, Jiao, would be forgiven by Staci, and how the child's statement had proven true. Staci had been most kind, and the memory of her love would perhaps ease his pain over the centuries. Jiao sighed. He'd lied to Staci when he'd said he would not know of time's passage.

Stone did know the passage of time, but only in a slow, ponderous way. Thousands of years could be like a mere day, and so when the glacier finally freed him he might remember Staci as if she were a youthful memory of an old man recounted on the temple steps. Faded, but more beautiful for the softening time gives such recollections.

"Wait! Wait! There she is!” The on-scene reporter and videographer jogged closer and focused on Staci's exit from the building. They focused with glee on her surprise and horror at the size of the mob below, surging against the private guards of the Angel Enterprises building.

The reporter managed to get past the barrier and shoved a small recorder in her face. “Miss Thornburn! Miss Thornburn? How do you like being the darling of the net, with your sexual escapades viewed by well over a million people? Is it true the pornographic director Nelson Ipswich has offered you several million to reprise your act with several of his best stars?"

Staci blinked, and her jaw fell open before she regained her composure. Her eyes narrowed with anger. “I don't care for the invasion of my privacy one bit, sir. As for—what was his name? Ipswich?—no communication has been made to me, and I would turn him down flat if there were such an offer."

"Holding out for a few more million, Miss Thornburn?” The reporter leered at her bosom, covered by the pink sweater she'd worn earlier when she'd visited Jiao. “They're not that great, you know."

Jiao snarled impotently at the camera. “She is not a cow, oaf!"

Staci brushed past the reporter and his cameraman, her face redder than cherries. The confused embarrassment in her eyes tore at Jiao's soul, but his mate was a warrior at heart even when she resembled a fragile doll. She lifted her chin, tossed her braid over her shoulder and stared down the reporter. “My lawyer will be in touch with your news agency concerning your breach of my privacy."

A man in a dark singlesuit stepped in front of Staci. He flashed an Ident in a black case. “Miss Thornburn? FBI. Will you come with me?"

Eagerly, the vidcam panned forward on Staci's white face. Her lower lip quivered, and the camera mercilessly detailed her fear for the whole world. She stared for a moment at the government man's impassive face before nodding. “Of course I will.” She casually linked arms with him and smiled brightly. “Let's go. I have a great deal to say... to you.” She shot a nasty look at the reporter, and tilted her nose in the air to confirm she had no interest in speaking with the rude man further.

The FBI man seemed startled, but he crooked his arm like a mid-twentieth-century gentleman. He gestured with his other hand to a large black flitter van. “This way, ma'am."

The fickle crowd cheered, and Jiao could not say if they were honoring her aplomb or celebrating her arrest.

Not that the difference mattered to Jiao. They had arrested his mate for a crime she did not commit. Jiao exploded into a fiery rage.

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Staci held her head high and walked into one of the defendants’ booths of the multi-national courtroom at the UN under her own power. Inside, her stomach knotted and her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. Only her mother's advice kept her sane. Staci chanted silently to herself, “Never let them see you sweat. Never let them see you sweat,” over and over. She sat in the chair and waited for her guards to arrange themselves around her as they saw fit.

The bulletproof glass of the booth gave her a feeling of a goldfish in a bowl surrounded by cats. People poured into the courtroom, acting like they were on their way to the circus. Maybe that was a more fitting analogy. There was a media circus outside, that was for sure.

Her defense team liaison sat down next to her and fussed with his papers. He'd met with her in prison, got her side of the story, and left. She hadn't seen him again until today. Mr. Harcourt wasn't exactly the most communicative werewolf, but her mother assured her he was the best. At least Mom had visited her daily with as many comforting words as she could manage.

The courtroom was full, mostly with reporters from both China and America, but she recognized a few family members and the elf family she and Jiao had rescued. Surprisingly, Jiao's faithful secretary sat in one corner with a smiling man in a business singlesuit, both studying a portable datavid.

Speaking of Jiao, the door to another defendants’ booth across the room opened, and two Chinese guards literally dragged Jiao inside. He was wrapped in chains, barely able to breathe, much less walk. His dragon wings were cruelly clipped together behind him with a steel clamp every foot or so. He looked across at her, and one eye was swollen shut. Worst of all, an electronic collar held his chin up, its twinkling lights cheerfully blinking. Even the waiting audience gasped in unison, recognizing an explosive collar that would take off Jiao's head with the press of a remote button. No one sat with him. Figured. He'd confessed and that was that. His next stop was a fissure in a glacier.

The head judge—she had no idea what all the fancy titles were—stood and waved for silence. His face was stern. She had no idea what language he spoke, but the speakers above her provided a translator's words. “The accused is a Foo Dog/Dragon mix. Foo Dogs are minor luck gods with the ability to speak a curse that alters reality so that Murphy's Law takes full effect. In other words, if something bad can happen, it will. Additionally, former Ambassador Long is also part Dragon, with the ability to not only fly, but also breathe fire in his natural form. Yesterday, he tried to escape in a fit of rage, destroying his cell and one guard. The collar is for your safety. He has been cautioned not to speak without permission or shift form to his natural state."

Vidcams all turned to the booth where Jiao sat, broadcasting his pitiful state instantly to the net for all to see. The magistrate allowed the media circus to continue for a few moments before demanding silence and respect with the sound of a gavel played on the speaker system at top volume. Silence followed. He activated the computerized court reporter. “Recording."

The two prosecuting attorneys, one Chinese and the other American, read their opening statements. They accused Jiao and Staci of conspiracy to create a national disaster in the Jerhattan area for profit via Staci's shares in her family company during the rebuilding effort. Staci was accused of that one in particular. They painted her as using sex to gain control of Jiao's abilities as a luck god and dragon to cause the maximum amount of damage. The main charge against Jiao was that he deliberately used his Foo Dog curse to call the flood to Jerhattan for both profit and as a terrorist act against the United States.

Staci pulled as far away from her microphone as she could and muttered, “What am I all of a sudden? Mata Hari or whoever that was? Can't a girl just get a little nookie with a handsome guy without being accused of a crime?"

The crowd erupted in laughter, her words having been broadcast to the general public below. The American prosecutor whose speech she'd interrupted shot her a look of pure hatred.