These Violent Delights (These Violent Delights 1)

“No.” The woman frowned, her gaze cast out toward the Huangpu River. “He said I was talking nonsense. Said he only saw a man, swimming away. He was convinced a fisherman had simply fallen off his boat.”

A man. How could there have been a man in the water while the monster was there? How could he have survived?

Unless…

With a shuddering breath, the woman picked her bag up, then seemed to think twice, reaching out to grip Kathleen’s hand instead.

“I recognize you from within the Scarlet Gang’s ranks,” she said quietly. “There’s something stirring to life in the waters that surround this city. There’s something stirring to life in so many places we cannot see.” The elderly woman’s fingers tightened until Kathleen could no longer feel her circulation within her palm.

“Please,” the woman whispered. “Protect us.”

Fifteen

Days later, Juliette could think of little else but the madness. She hardly reacted anymore when people called her name. She had ears only for the sound of screaming, and each time screams rang through the streets, she winced, wishing—aching to do something about it.

A monster, Juliette thought, her thoughts persistent in its cyclic loop as she leaned against the staircase in wait. There’s a monster spreading madness on the streets of Shanghai.

“Ready to go?” Lord Cai called down to her, pausing at the top to straighten the collar of his coat.

Juliette forced herself back into the present. Sighing, she twirled the little clutch bag in her hands.

“Ready as ever.”

Lord Cai descended the rest of the stairs, then stopped in front of his daughter, his expression set in a frown. Juliette looked down at herself, trying to determine what had drawn his disapproval. She was wearing her American dresses again, this one slightly fancier to fit the occasion, with bundles of tulle at her shoulders that fell into sleeves. Was the neckline too low-cut? Was this—for once—normal fatherly concern that wasn’t about whether she could kill a man without flinching?

“Where’s your mask?”

Close enough. I’ll take it.

“Why bother?” Juliette sighed. “You’re not wearing one.”

Lord Cai scrubbed at his eyes. Juliette couldn’t tell if it was his general tiredness in preparing to deal with the Frenchmen, or if he was exasperated with her childish behavior.

“Yes, because I am a fifty-year-old man,” her father replied. “It would look ridiculous.”

Juliette shrugged, then started for the front door. “You said it, not me.”

The night was brisk when they stepped out into the driveway, and Juliette shivered slightly, rubbing her hands against her bare arms. No matter. It was too late to go back for a coat now. She climbed into the car with the chauffeur’s help and slid down the seat to make room for her father. Most of their other family members who were attending the masquerade had already left. Juliette hadn’t wanted to go anyway, so she had waited while Lord Cai took his time finishing up his work. He had only declared that it was time to get going when the sky turned pink and the burning orange sun started to brush the horizon.

Lord Cai got into the car. Once he settled himself into his seat, he rested his hands in his lap and glanced over at Juliette. His expression set into another frown. This time he was eyeing the necklace laced tightly across her throat.

“That’s not a necklace, is it?”

“It is not, Bàba.”

“That’s garrote wire, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is, Bàba.”

“How many other weapons have you concealed on yourself?”

“Five, Bàba.”

Lord Cai pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Wode maya, have mercy on my soul.”

Juliette smiled like she had been complimented.

Their car started forward and rumbled along smoothly, driving through the calmer, rural roads and into the city, honking every three seconds for the laborers and the men dragging rickshaws to get out of the way. Juliette usually made a habit not to look out the window, lest she make eye contact and a beggar approached. But for some inexplicable reason, she looked up tonight.