Demon Huntress

No, she used to hang out like the others, listening and laughing, because really, they were just demons. So what if they got slapped around a little before they were dispatched?

But the knowledge that Ming jie had been slapped around was somehow different, and she had to steady herself with a deep breath as she opened the heavy steel door.

Inside the room, which had been constructed of cement and spells from floor to ceiling, Ting and Yat sen sat on stone benches, their gazes locked on the n.a.k.e.d, bloody body curled in a fetal position on the floor and chained to the opposite wall. She nearly cried out at the sight, caught the sound with a palm slapped over her mouth.

"You're too late," Ting sighed. "Yat Sen lost his temper." She turned to Shu lan. "We didn't get much out of him. Lies, mostly."

"Nah. The hot poker up his a.s.s got us some good intel."

Oh. Oh . . . God. Shu lan stumbled to a corner and retched, splattering vomit all over the floor. Not slapped around. This was what they'd been doing in the room all along.

I'm so stupid. A naïve moron.

Still hunched over, her head swimming, she took in the surroundings, the glowing embers in a brazier in the corner, shelves of barbaric tools, racks of various flogs and wh.i.p.s, a hose, and more things she couldn't identify.

"Shu lan?" Yat Sen had moved to her to gather her hair and hold it away from her mouth. "You aren't upset, are you? I mean, he was just a demon, right?"

"Yeah," she croaked. "Demon. It's just . . . the smell."

The smell, the sight, the thought that Ming jie had suffered like that. What had she done? Dry heaves wracked her, twisting her gut until sweat poured down her temples.

"You've never sat shotgun at one of our interrogations, have you?"

She shook her head. Even if she had, would she have cared what went on? After all, demons were beasts. Evil beasts that slaughtered innocent humans for fun.

Funny how she kept telling herself the same thing over and over, despite the fact that no matter how often she repeated the "demons are evil" mantra like some sort of protective shield, it didn't seem to make a difference.

"Let me take your jacket." Dazed, as if she'd taken a punch to the head and couldn't put her rattled thoughts back together, she shrugged out of it and handed it to Yat Sen.

"Come here," Ting said, and, knees shaking, Shu lan moved to the other woman, who was now crouching next to the body. Shu lan averted her gaze as she sat on her haunches next to Ting. "He's wearing a necklace with a strange medical symbol. Do you know what it is?"

Shu lan didn't look. Didn't need to. It was the caduceus. The one that had tickled her skin when he was bent over her. Kissing her. L.i.c.k.i.n.g her.

"No," she lied. "I don't have a clue."

Her stomach threatened to spill again. Her eyes did. One tear, small, easily and covertly dashed away by the back of her hand. But that one tear contained more emotion than had all of the tears she'd shed since her mom had died combined.

She exhaled slowly, needing a moment to compose herself before she could look. And she had to. Ming jie deserved as much. When she did, her breath snagged in her throat. The body before her was bloodied, bruised, mangled in places. But the right arm was b.a.r.e, unmarked by the tattoo that ran from Ming jie's fingertip to his neck. Her mind warned against too much hope, but her heart didn't get the message, pounded as if it wanted free of her c.h.e.s.t as she tipped the male demon's face with her finger.

Oh, thank you, thank you, God. Intense relief sapped her strength with such force that she fell back onto her b.u.t.t. A smile flitted at the corners of her mouth, hidden by a hand placed as though her stomach had rebelled once more.

It wasn't Hellboy, but this demon wore the same dagger caduceus. They must have worked together. Yes . . . recognition sluiced over the surface of her mind, not quite penetrating . . . She could see him, his face fuzzy.

This is a waste of time. The words rang in her ears, and then she remembered where she'd seen him. At UG when she'd first awakened. What had Ming jie called him? cang ... That was it. cang jie, But why was he here instead of Ming jie?

Another voice droned in her ear. Ting's. She was jabbering away about all the ways they'd hurt him, and now that the grief and worry had cleared out of Shu lan's brain, Ting's bragging took on new significance. Especially with the way she kept sliding Shu lan curious glances as though trying to gauge her reaction to what they'd done. But what kind of reaction was she hoping for?

Shu lan's energy returned with savage intensity, as if she'd freebased a bowl of adrenaline, and now she wanted answers.

"I don't care what you did. How did you catch him?"