Now
Zhu Hong had seen Zhu Jiu’s hideout before, but the abandoned warehouse felt somehow colder and full of more echoes when in use. She stood behind Ya Qing’s left shoulder, kept her eyes fixed on a point past Zhu Jiu’s scowling face, and waited; it didn’t matter what the outcome of this argument was, because by being here they had accomplished everything she needed.
“My deal was with you.” Zhu Jiu’s hiss could never match that of a snake, but he was certainly doing his best impression. The dark energy coiling around his fingers would be more of a threat if Zhu Hong thought he would use it—or if she didn’t know how to protect herself from an unhoned blast.
Ya Qing folded her arms, unruffled. “You wanted help.” If Zhu Hong didn’t know what to listen for, the frost in her voice and the steel of her spine would hide every single one of Ya Qing’s anxieties about this plan. Her words snapped at Zhu Jiu, biting at his unprotected throat. “Are you truly in a position to throw away another potential ally?”
Zhu Hong knew he wasn’t. She’d seen the people he’d recruited, felt the effects of their discontent as it had been shaped into weapons against the SID. All she had to do was let her eyes flash red, show the scales waiting beneath her soft-skinned shape, and give Zhu Jiu a smile filled with venom. He wouldn’t be looking closely enough to know it was directed at him. “My people can be powerful warriors,” Zhu Hong said; she knew what he wanted to hear, and how to craft a dishonest truth. “I am here to see if you’re worth tying ourselves to. Ya Qing’s words carry weight, but my people only trust our own senses.”
As soon as Zhu Jiu sneered at her, Zhu Hong wished she could punch it off his face. Her younger self might have done so.
Her younger self would not be here, of course, so there was no reason to indulge her wishes.
“Tell me,” Zhu Jiu said, with all the arrogance of a man who had no idea what he was doing, “what can a nest of snakes do for me?”
The downside of being in her younger self’s body was that Zhu Hong didn’t have access to as much power as she used to. Zhu Hong ignored that, concentrating every shred of strength behind her eyes, preparing herself.
They only have one chance.
Zhu Hong showed her fangs, caught Zhu Jiu’s mind with hers, and said, “This.”
One Week Ago
A crow dove out of the sky as Zhu Hong prepared to enter her apartment.
She had exactly enough time to think Ah. Shit. before Ya Qing revealed her human form and crowded Zhu Hong against the door. Zhu Hong gasped as Ya Qing’s fingernails dug into her shoulders, head falling back against the door to bare her throat enticingly.
Then Ya Qing snarled, “Tell me how you knew,” and Zhu Hong remembered where—and, more importantly, when—she was.
Zhu Hong took a settling breath, which didn’t help as much as she wanted it to, and said, “Can we talk about it inside?” She trusted that nobody had seen Ya Qing appear—Ya Qing wouldn’t make that kind of simple mistake—but she lived in an apartment building. Neighbours would be coming home from work, going out for after-dinner visits, or simply people-watching. Being seen pressed against the door by a gorgeous woman would raise more questions than Zhu Hong needed right now, when she was pretending to maintain a simple human life.
Ya Qing’s fingers flexed. Zhu Hong did her best not to whine or think about the way her nipples might be visible. This Ya Qing was not yet her lover. All Zhu Hong could do was attempt to present herself as trustworthy—which, admittedly, wasn’t hurt by looking so clearly overcome by Ya Qing’s presence.
“Fine.” Ya Qing released Zhu Hong and stepped back. “But open your windows.”
Zhu Hong nodded. Giving Ya Qing an escape route was easy. “Do you want any tea?” she asked instead as she entered, heading first to the windows to open them. Her apartment was small, built for one person, and she hadn’t had time to furnish it well. A couch, a rickety table, a handful of mismatched chairs, and a rug that looked like autumn leaves. Enough to say that someone lived here; not enough to yet make it a home.
“This isn’t a social visit,” Ya Qing snapped. “I don’t need tea.”
Zhu Hong set the kettle boiling anyway before she sat down at the table. “Suit yourself,” she said, meaning both the tea and Ya Qing’s position two steps from the window. Spine straight, feathers fluffed even now, and eyes intent. “How did I know what, Ya Qing?”
“The name Zhu Jiu.” Ya Qing crossed her arms. “That he would approach me on behalf of a Dixingren lord.”
Zhu Hong leaned back. She’d been trying to figure out how to explain it ever since she’d landed here. The water wasn’t ready yet, unfortunately, so she couldn’t delay her answer by making tea. “What do you know about the Hallows?”
Ya Qing tensed. “They’re lost. Aren’t they?”
“They were.” Zhu Hong still didn’t understand the things. They had minds of their own, as best she understood, and realms of power—at least one of which resulted in them being able to move people through time. “They are. But soon they won’t be.”
Ya Qing had grown up hearing stories about the olden days, and she was a quick study. It was no trouble at all for her to connect the dots. “You’re from the future.”
The kettle began to whistle. “Would you like some tea?” Zhu Hong asked again. “We can drink it while I explain.”
“Yes.” Ya Qing pulled out a chair, sat down, and commanded, “Tell me.”
Three Days Ago
Her initial proposal to Zhao Yunlan about working with Ya Qing went about as well as Zhu Hong expected, which was to say it didn’t.
The young snake she appeared to be would have broken down in crushed tears, the way Zhao Yunlan carried on about the idea, but High Chief Zhu Hong knew better. She waited it out while Da Qing watched, wide-eyed, until Zhao Yunlan sat back down at his desk and said, “You’re serious.”
“I wouldn’t propose it if I weren’t.” Zhu Hong leaned forward, planting her hands on Zhao Yunlan’s desk and ignoring the way it made him scowl. “Chief Zhao, Zhu Jiu is a major threat to the safety of Dragon City. If we ignore this chance, who knows when we’ll get another?”
Zhao Yunlan threw his hands up in the air, slumping back in his chair. “Save me from self-sacrificing children,” he told the ceiling. “There has to be a way that doesn’t use you as bait. Why do you even trust this Ya Qing?”
The same reason you trust Shen Wei, Zhu Hong wanted to say. Because I love her.
It wouldn’t help—Zhao Yunlan hadn’t yet met Shen Wei, let alone grown so close to him—so Zhu Hong shrugged. “Ya Qing leads the Crow Yashou,” she told Zhao Yunlan. “She wants what’s best for her people, and she thinks that Zhu Jiu will bring disaster to not just Dragon City but the Yashou Tribes if left unchecked. This is a win-win for everyone.”
She paused, then added, “Also, the Snake Tribe can hypnotise people. I don’t think any of Lin Jing’s gadgets can do that. So, yes, it has to be me.” She’d known that would be right up there with trusting Ya Qing as the hardest part of this pitch. There wasn’t anything they could do about it, though; it was only luck that Zhu Jiu didn’t yet know what Zhu Hong looked like and they could pull this ruse off at all.
Zhao Yunlan rubbed his face. Da Qing, on the other hand, peered suspiciously at Zhu Hong. He’d been doing that a lot, clearly aware that something was off about her but unable to pin it down. “Hong-jie,” Da Qing said, “why did Ya Qing come to you?”
Now for the biggest lie. Zhu Hong sat back in her chair with a smile. “We’re both Yashou,” she said brightly. “I’m a member of the SID and Zhu Jiu is operating in Dragon City right now. Why wouldn’t she come to me?”
“I’m Yashou too!” Da Qing protested, slapping his chest. “And I have seniority over you!”
“Guess she just likes me more,” Zhu Hong said smugly.
“Quiet, both of you.” Zhao Yunlan rapped the desk. “Bring her in,” he told Zhu Hong. “If we’re doing this, I’m not risking you on secondhand information. If we all think she’s telling the truth, we can plan the operation. Alright?”
“Thank you.” Zhu Hong had expected this to take longer, even as she’d hoped Zhao Yunlan would come around. “She’s waiting outside now, if you’d like.”
“Of course she is,” Zhao Yunlan muttered. Then he rose to his feet and clapped his hands. “Go find everyone,” he told Da Qing. “Gather them in the main room. Once everyone’s arrived, you can bring in your… friend.”
Zhu Hong bowed, heart racing.
This was going to work.
Now
Zhu Hong kept her unblinking eyes on Zhu Jiu. Each second she kept him hypnotized was another second the SID could use to bring him down.
He struggled. Of course he did. Zhu Hong didn’t have the reserves she wished she did—Yashou chiefs could draw upon their people’s strength, and the High Chief could theoretically draw from everyone—but she could make up for that with sheer stubbornness. It would be enough. It had to be.
Beside her, Ya Qing set off the signal to summon the SID Then—as she’d promised she would—Ya Qing stepped forward, black energy swirling around her hands, and took hold of Zhu Jiu. Her power wound around him, trapping him with not the Snake Tribe’s hypnotism but the power of a tribe leader’s will. The strength of the Crow Tribe coalesced in Ya Qing, and Zhu Hong was pleased that she stood close enough to Zhu Jiu that Zhu Hong could appreciate the aura of power it gave her.
And, of course, the way Ya Qing’s strength intertwined with Zhu Hong’s hypnotism. They interlinked neatly, an ease born of Zhu Hong’s long practice and knowledge of how Ya Qing’s mind felt alongside her own. From the way Ya Qing startled, she hadn’t expected this, but it didn’t break her concentration. That was good. Zhu Hong could feel herself fading, eyes aching, as she gave everything over to holding Zhu Jiu long enough.
Then the SID burst in.
Chu Shuzhi’s strings were a third binding around Zhu Jiu. Behind him, Da Qing and Lin Jing entered with sparking devices, checking all the corners for subordinates. They wouldn’t find any, Zhu Hong knew; if they existed, they would’ve attacked by now.
Zhao Yunlan brought up the rear. He stopped next to Zhu Hong and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it in both support and praise. His gun—so rarely used, but held steady nonetheless—stayed trained on Zhu Jiu’s face. “Surrender,” Zhao Yunlan said.
“No,” Zhu Jiu sneered, the word barely escaping his lungs.
With a shrug, Zhao Yunlan said, “It was worth a shot,” and cocked his gun.
Zhu Jiu’s eyes widened in fear. Zhao Yunlan’s finger slowly depressed the trigger. His struggles grew more desperate as his attention zeroed in on Zhao Yunlan. Then, as had been the goal of all the showboating, Chu Shuzhi struck Zhu Jiu from behind.
Zhu Jiu collapsed to the ground, unconscious, and Zhu Hong almost fell over herself at the removal of mental pressure. “Steady,” Zhao Yunlan murmured, catching her. “Oi! Damn Cat! Help Hong-jie!”
“No need.” Ya Qing appeared at Zhu Hong’s side instead. “I’ll take care of her.”
Zhao Yunlan gave her a dubious look.
“Thank you, Ya Qing,” Zhu Hong said, and that was enough to dispel Zhao Yunlan’s doubts. He shrugged and passed her over, and Zhu Hong didn’t have enough energy left to hide how easy it was for her to relax into Ya Qing’s arms.
“You didn’t tell me everything, did you?” Ya Qing murmured, warm against Zhu Hong’s ear as she adjusted her grip. “Who were we to each other, little serpent?”
Zhu Hong smiled into Ya Qing’s neck. “Let me sleep first,” she said, eyes slipping closed. “Then I’ll tell you everything.”
One Month Ago
Zhu Hong basked in the evening sun, its heat welcome after a long week spent mostly indoors. Being the High Chief of the Yashou was a very important position, which meant that Zhu Hong spent entirely too much time arguing and nitpicking and protecting her people from Haixingren fears; here in her home, she wanted nothing more than to set those worries aside.
Sometimes that was easier said than done, however, even with such obliging weather.
As such, she didn’t notice Ya Qing’s approach until hands began stroking down her bare shoulders. “Are you awake?” Ya Qing asked, voice soft.
Zhu Hong stretched, then shuffled sideways to follow the sun’s path. “I’m awake.” There was no need to open her eyes. “Just thinking.”
Ya Qing settled at her side, a second source of warmth. Her fingers pressed more firmly into Zhu Hong, sliding down her spine, rolling across her ass, teasing at her thighs. “What are you thinking about?” Ya Qing asked, her tone making it clear what she wanted to bring to the forefront of Zhu Hong’s mind.
It was easy to splay her legs and melt against the soft rug to invite Ya Qing’s further explorations. Still, Zhu Hong mumbled, “Do you ever regret your past decisions?”
Ya Qing paused. Her fingernails dug into the side of Zhu Hong’s breast, then withdrew to instead tug at her hair. “What is there to regret?” she asked, once Zhu Hong reluctantly opened her eyes. “It is the past. We cannot change it.”
Zhu Hong rolled onto her side, which didn’t relieve the pressure on her scalp but did draw Ya Qing’s attention to her chest. She was wearing very little; this was her house, and she wanted as much sun as she could, and so she’d made only a token gesture towards modesty. Ya Qing wore her layers of black, silken sheath and textured lace, but Zhu Hong knew what lay beneath her clothes.
“Regret over what we can no longer change is part of what shapes goals for the future.” Zhu Hong reached out and looped one hand around Ya Qing’s hip, pulling them closer together. “For instance, right now I’m regretting starting this conversation.”
Ya Qing smirked and undid the knot holding Zhu Hong’s breastband in place. “Are you saying I had the right idea?” Her fingers brushed Zhu Hong’s chest, lace gloves catching on hardening nipples, and Zhu Hong groaned. Ya Qing knew she liked a firmer hand than this.
Of course, Ya Qing also liked seeing whose patience would break first.
Zhu Hong almost always did, because her pride didn’t feel insulted by begging Ya Qing for what she knew they both wanted. She looked up at Ya Qing, arching her back to better display her breasts, and asked, “If I say you’re right, does that mean you’ll kiss me?”
Ya Qing’s lips parted. She stooped on Zhu Hong, shoving her onto her back, hands on Zhu Hong’s shoulders and mouth a mere inch away. This close, Zhu Hong could see the flush of arousal creeping onto Ya Qing’s cheeks. She could also grind her hips up against the heavy drape of Ya Qing’s dress, which wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Ya Qing’s body but was easier to reach—until Ya Qing grabbed her hip and pressed it against the floor, denying both to her.
Zhu Hong whined. Ya Qing smiled. “I’ll kiss you,” she promised. “But where I kiss you, and when…”
“Tease,” Zhu Hong gasped. Then she didn’t have space for more words, because Ya Qing’s teeth sank into her neck just below her ear, and Zhu Hong could debate whether that counted as a kiss but she didn’t want to; all she wanted was more of Ya Qing.
And so—between all the lovely things Ya Qing was doing to her—she said, “You’re right. The past is gone. We only need to think about what’s happening now.”
As a reward, Ya Qing’s next kiss was on her soaked panties, and Zhu Hong happily let the whole conversation die away. There were better things to contemplate, after all.
After that restful weekend, Zhu Hong visited Dixing with a Yashou delegation and saw the Hallowed sun. When it eclipsed itself and sucked her into a violet spiral of stars, she remembered her words with—irony of ironies—regret.
Now, Two Days Later
“We were lovers.” Ya Qing tapped her fingers thoughtfully on her crossed arms. “And you failed to mention this to me before.”
Zhu Hong nodded. Ya Qing’s gaze pinned her just as effectively as ever. “It wasn’t relevant.”
Ya Qing snorted and flicked Zhu Hong’s words aside. She stepped closer, her presence easily filling Zhu Hong’s little apartment. “How is it not relevant, little serpent? It explains much of why you chose to warn me.” Her eyes travelled across Zhu Hong’s body, slow and lingering. “Do you think you must judge what I am capable of hearing and understanding? Does knowing one future tell you anything about how the present now progresses?”
“No.” Zhu Hong licked her lips and tried not to stare at Ya Qing’s mouth. “I have more experience than my age implies, but we have derailed much of the timeline I knew.”
“Am I the same as the person you left behind?” Ya Qing asked. She was close enough to touch. She didn’t. Zhu Hong wanted her to.
“Ya Qing is Ya Qing.” Zhu Hong looked back at her, defiant. This much was clear. “You are different only in that I offered you knowledge the Ya Qing I first knew did not have.”
Ya Qing’s smile was certainly the same, sweet and sharp in equal measure. “I admit to curiosity,” she said, settling on the table. “What do you know of what I like?”
Zhu Hong’s heartbeat quickened in her chest as she bared her teeth at Ya Qing in challenge. This was not a promise, just a possibility, but Zhu Hong didn’t want to live this life with any regrets. She might not know how long the Hallows would leave her here—if this was a detour or a destination—but she wanted every pleasure she could have. “Would you like to find out?”
Ya Qing pressed forward, devouring her with a biting kiss, and Zhu Hong groaned in desire as she opened up beneath Ya Qing’s graceful hands.
This apartment was not the same as her sun-bathed house, and her bed creaked when they made it there, but the taste of Ya Qing’s skin was the same, and the way Ya Qing dragged moans from her throat was the same, and the pleasure of settling sleepily into Ya Qing’s arms was the same.
Whatever this new future might bring, Zhu Hong was simply pleased that this relationship could be born anew.