Blood Runs Neon/Neon Fates

The Ghost of Shanghai

They called her the Ghost of Shanghai. With her pale-white skin and her big Western eyes, it fit her more than most foreigners and she liked it. She even dressed to it, wearing tight black pants and flowing tops or long jackets, dying her hair all sorts of unnatural colors and even painting her face for dramatic effect. They assumed she was Russian or American or maybe Australian and talked in front of her like she wasn’t there, like she was the ghost they called her. But anyone who paid attention long enough could see she talked Shanghaiese like she grew up there, and switched to Mandarin just as easy.

Some of the stories were even crazier – that she sometimes worked for the crime lord Pi Xiu. That she brought drugs in from Russia, and if you knew the right way to ask, she also sold strange herbs that did more than get you high. That she wore amulets to keep her safe. That she flew. That she had an ancient dragon bound to serve her.

The really crazy thing was, if you tilted your head the right way, all these things were almost true.

Zhenya raced to the club twice as fast as was really necessary, weaving through the late Shanghai traffic. What was the fun of having a motorcycle, she figured, if she wasn’t running full throttle? She might as well let the driver take her out if she was going to go a reasonable speed.

The club itself didn’t look much different from the warehouses surrounding it, but the heartbeat of the bass and small crowd outside gave it away. She parked her bike in the alley next to the building and pushed her motorcycle goggles up on her forehead as she walked to the door. She was let in without a word.

She went straight for the stairs, climbing to the third floor. Up here the music was a little dimmed and it was possible to pretend you were having a civil conversation. She sat down in one of the booths, touched the stone in her ear and the pendant on her neck, then ordered a drink and waited.

The drink arrived before her contact did, which annoyed her. Usually Keileon was waiting for her, and for him to take this long was almost unheard of.

When she finally heard his voice drifting up the stairs, she understood. He had someone with him.

“-don’t see what the big deal is, Keileon,” the new voice said in Mandarin. She had an accent that spoke of the south, but Zhenya couldn’t peg the region. “Why go to the trouble of getting your drugs from some guizi?”

“It’s not my job to question the boss, Daji.”

The new girl, Daji, was small by city standards, and Zhenya guessed she was a country girl originally. Lots of them ended up in one city or another these days, looking for a factory job they could send a few yuan home from or just something that wasn’t the same small, dying town they’d known their whole lives. Zhenya saw plenty of the type in Shanghai, and in Hong Kong, and in St. Petersburg, and in Moscow.

“She even looks like a ghost. I’ve never seen a guizi who took it so literally. She makes me uncomfortable. What do you even speak with her?”

“She knows what she’s doing, and she knows what she’s selling,” Keileon said, looking straight at Zhenya, “and she speaks Mandarin fine.”

Daji had the courtesy to look embarrassed, at least.

“It’s fine,” Zhenya said, her tone making it clear that it was not. “Lots of people make that assumption.”

“I bet people make a lot of assumptions about you,” Daji answered, sliding into the booth. Keileon slipped in next to her.

“Everyone makes assumptions,” Zhenya smiled. “Some are just more correct than others. I can assume you’re here to make a deal on your boss’s behalf, for example.”

Keileon laughed. “That’s not an assumption any more than you assume the sun’s coming up tomorrow.”

“Oh, one of these days it won’t, you wait and see. But tell me what you’re in the mood for.”

“What I’m really in the mood for is Ecstasy,” Keileon complained.

Zhenya rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I deal in and you know it.”

“I know, I know. I just do what I’m told, a good little underling kowtowing to Pi Xiu.” Daji looked a little scandalized at his careless tone, but she didn’t say anything. “He’s looking for a couple of ounces of dragon scale and as much powdered qilin horn as you have.”

While Zhenya dug into her bag, Daji leaned closer to Keileon. “Why are they called that?”

“Because that’s what they are,” Keileon answered.

Zhenya dropped three small plastic packages on the table. Daji’s eyes were wide as she leaned in to look at them.

“Dragon scale, two ounces” she explained to the Chinese woman, pointing to a package containing small flakes with a greenish tint. Daji nodded a fraction of an inch.

“Qilin horn.” The other two packages were both tightly wrapped, but she could make out an eggshell-colored powder inside.

Keileon yawned and dropped a much larger package on the table. It was wrapped in black plastic, but Daji could guess there was money inside. “How much?”

“Qilin’s not cheap,” was all Zhenya bothered to respond before the package disappeared into her bag. “They’re not easy to kill. Anything else?” She stood up.

“You’re not sticking around?” Keileon pointed to her half-full drink.

Zhenya looked around, faintly disgusted. “Not tonight. The rumors are ugly and the feng shui of this club is terrible.” The music coming up from downstairs got seemed to get louder, and the lighting was shifting from blues to reds.

Her contact didn’t say anything, only looked at her, and she sighed and dug in her pocket.

“Here, Keileon. You have to stop doing this, though.” She dropped a bottle on the table with a few tabs of ecstasy inside. She started for the stairs again, but froze as she started down.

She swore under her breath and stumbled backwards. “Kei? Find some cover, okay.”

“Cover?” Instead of swallowing the drug, he dropped it back in the bottle and pocketed it.

“Something nasty’s coming. I can feel it.” She headed instead for a stairwell door at the rear of the building.

“More like something nasty’s trying to leave.”

Zhenya glared. “Excuse me?” She’d put up with all kinds of comments because she stood out, but she never left them unchallenged in a business deal. She’d learned the hard way that people tried to screw you over if they thought too little of you.

“You won’t escape,” Daji’s voice was cold, and suddenly the situation didn’t sound like a business deal anymore.

“Daji?” Keileon looked from her to Zhenya and back, hoping for an explanation.

“I can’t let her get away with this.” The young courier untied her hair and as it fell, fox ears became visible on her head and three tails hung over the top of her low-slung jeans. Keileon stared at her and then at the unopened bottle Zhenya had given him, as if making sure he hadn’t taken anything.

Daji murmured something Zhenya didn’t catch. Wind whipped up around them, flinging the glasses and other loose items. Zhenya hurried to turn away, but one of the glasses hit her on the cheek and she knew she’d feel the bruise later. There was a crash of broken glass and the fox girl was pulling knives from her sleeves. Zhenya decided she didn’t want to stick around to see if Daji would use broken glass or sharp metal against her.

Zhenya dashed up the stairs, hoping the roof would give her a safe exit from the club. The roof was not a very impressive space. It was not nearly as wide as she’d hoped – the club was smaller than it felt from the inside – and yet the height looked higher. Well, she’d jumped from higher places before. She’d live, or she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

Behind her, the door crashed open and Daji stepped out, knives at the ready. Zhenya wondered if she’d have the speed to make it over the alley and onto the next building. As it turned out, she didn’t need to.

A green blur shot past her and Zhenya smiled before she could see what it was. She didn’t need to see – she knew. It was her dragon, easily six feet tall, all scales and claws and teeth.

“Lin!” she shouted. The dragon hesitated, looking to her, and the fox tried to press her advantage, laying into the newcomer with knives in both hands

“Stop! Both of you!” Keileon yelled as he emerged onto the roof. “Zhenya, call him off!”

“Wait, Lin,” Zhenya called, and the dragon retreated to stand beside her.

Keileon walked over to Daji and grabbed her by the shoulders. “The boss’ll kill you if you don’t lay off, kid. I don’t think he’ll care if you’re a fox spirit or a furry or what.”

“She’s killing-”

“You’re working for a crime lord, Daji, what did you expect?”

“Not this.”

“Not your kind, just humans?” Keileon snorted. “Pi Xiu knows, doesn’t he? He knows everything.”

“Yeah, he knows.” Daji looked deflated now.

“Then you must realize he wanted you to see this. He wanted you to understand what you’re getting into.” The older courier turned to Zhenya. “The two of you should go.”

“I let you live,” the dragon snorted.

“Why do you defend her?” Daji called. “Do you think she wouldn’t turn on you, if you were worth it?”

“She wouldn’t.” There was a sideways glance at Zhenya. “Plenty of humans deal in the death of their own kind and you aren’t even my kind. You make too many assumptions, little fox.”

“Go,” Keileon snapped.

“Come on,” Zhenya tugged on the dragon’s claws. She walked to the edge and jumped without hesitation this time, trusting she would be caught. She was, and she thrilled at the touch of claws pressing through her club gear.

She smiled at the dragon as she climbed onto her bike. “I’ve got other errands, love. I’ll see you before dawn.”

“Stay out of trouble.” And then the dragon was gone.

“Me? Never,” Zhenya said to herself as she revved the bike and raced away.

Perspective

Lin is watching the city go by.

She remembers mortality distantly, has already lost track of time. She feels old, impossibly so, and is constantly surprised by her own thoughts.

If she stops and thinks about it, it can't have been more than six months. Sometimes she picks a rooftop and perches there for days, just studying the neon below her. Thinking.

For the first time in her life she has all the time she wants for thinking and nothing to interrupt her. Even the noise of the city below is dim, and no one ever looks this far up.

Making an Omelet

01

“I’m not sure how I feel about this change in the power dynamic of our relationship.”

Lin’s mouth tightened. “I suspect that’s because you no longer hold all the power.”

“That’s not- that’s not what i meant.” The whole conversation was a mistake. I knew it almost as soon as I started having it, but somehow the words kept spilling out of my mouth anyway.

“But it’s not untrue.”

I shook her head. “It’s a matter of scale, too. Having money and knowing people, that’s not the same as- as- this.” I gestured wildly at Lin, not even sure how to describe it. “I don’t know what the words are. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do, but I don’t agree. You don’t think those are as important because you have them.”

I didn’t have an answer for that, so I said nothing as she turned and left. Long after she was gone, I stomped away in a huff, determined to find… something. I didn’t know what yet.

That ill-fated conversation put me on the road, though. Too embarrassed to face Lin again and to proud to tell her she was right, I went looking for other options. I went back to the books that had inspired me in the first place. I called in favors with alchemists and with the supernaturals that I bargained with.

I hadn’t learned everything I knew about monster hunting from Lin – I’d been doing it recreationally for years before I met her. And this hardly qualified as hunting, anyway.

Eventually I ended up in a cave at the end of the world, half-frozen, exhausted, and almost out of food. The moment when I was about to find what I thought I wanted was when I figured out how fucking stupid the whole thing was.

I was in love with her. I could admit that now, even if she wasn’t there to hear it.

I was in love with her and I didn’t want to be left behind. I’ve always been competitive. I was supposed to be the one out in front, the one taking stupid risks and winning huge rewards. Getting rescued by Lin had been novel, had been exciting for a little while. The follow-up sex was incredible.

But I was going to be her equal or I was going to die trying, because I didn’t know how to be anything less.

The egg just sat there, looking for all the world like a vibrant red piece of jade. It was certainly impressive – it was almost the size of my head – but it was uncarved and unadorned. Unremarkable.

If I was wrong about this, I would die here.

If I died here, I deserved it, said the voice of my doubt.

I told my self doubt to shut up as I reached for the stone. It was heavy, but I could lift it. Nothing happened. The stone stayed slightly warm to the touch. There was no inscription to read, no booby trap.

What are you supposed to do with an egg, anyway? You break it.

So I dropped it. I watched it shatter into a handful of pieces. There was silence, just long enough for me to think I’d screwed up irrevocably.

Then the air around me caught fire.

02

I had heard stories of the жар-пти́ца, the firebird, since I was small. I had read still more about it when I started researching. Every source described it’s surpassing beauty.

To stand in front of it was still something else altogether.

I continued to feel as if I were on fire, but it seemed increasingly unimportant. The pain faded into the background. The bird cocked her head at me.

“You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” she asked me.

“What?”

“Still, I should be thankful. You’ve freed me, and you’re a suitable host. Prepare yourself.”

I started to say something else, but there was a feeling like feathers brushing my face, and I fell unconscious.

I woke up on the floor of the cave. My trousers were damp. My shirt was dripping with sweat when I sat up. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but the pieces of broken jade on the floor suggested I had messed this up pretty badly.

Aside from the obvious, where the thing I’d been looking for was in pieces, I was in Siberia and I’d felt like I was about to freeze to death even before I came in here. The cave was relatively warm, at least. I was tempted to stay there, but I was going to be lucky if I could make it back to the nearest town as it was.

When I went to the mouth of the cave, though, I realized that it wasn’t particularly warm in the cave. I just wasn’t cold. I touched the dry snow, and watched it melt at my touch.

Maybe I had succeeded after all.

Now I just needed to get back to Shanghai and apologize to Lin…

Time Out

I made it back to Shencheng in one piece and immediately started looking for Lin. The sun was coming up when I finally found her. I had to chase her down through block after block, using all the freerunning tricks she'd taught me, just to keep up.

Finally, I scaled a fire escape after her and found her standing on the roof of a three story building. "Lin, please, it's okay now!"

She glared at me, angrier than I had ever seen her. She must have known to look at me what I'd done. All my plans for this reunion had involved me telling her and her being impressed; I wasn't sure what to do next.

"That was your answer? You run off like an idiot and almost get yourself killed because you can't stand not being completely in charge of the relationship? What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me! I just didn't want to-"

"Yes, I know, you didn't want the relationship to be 'unbalanced.' It was unbalanced the minute we met and you didn't give a damn then because you were the one controlling me."

"I wasn't controlling you!"

"No? You dressed me up like a doll and showed me off like a concubine. You had me move in with you. You dragged me to all the clubs you like and out on your hunting trips."

I stared at her.

"At least you have the good grace to look more than a little horrified."

"You could have said no," I protested, but weakly.

"And then what? Gone back to living on the street? Begging and whoring and trying not to get killed? You had all the power, because those were my options, Zhenya."

I didn't have an answer for that.

"I don't even want to look at you, and you've practically bound us together. That…" she laughed. "I should throw you off a rooftop or something, but of course you can fly now."

"Er, actually, I haven't worked that out yet."

Lin laughed harder, almost hysterical. "Do you hear her?"

"Who- who are you talking to?"

"The Dragon," she answered. Every time the disdain in her voice got louder, I got more frustrated. I was still convinced, somehow, that I could fix this.

"Lin-"

"No." Her skin rippled and scales slid into place. I stared. It was different, watching it with the Firebird's awareness curled up behind my eyes. I felt the energy in the shift.

"No," I repeated. "Not Lin." For the first time, I understood that the Dragon was not really her. He was something else entirely.

I felt a flutter of nervous wings in my stomach; he'd caught the Firebird's attention. The rush of adrenaline I always felt when she transformed was matched by a new sensation: attraction.

"Give her time," the Dragon said. "You owe her that much. Apologize next time you see her."

I nodded.

"What do you think of the Firebird, little ghost?"

"I don't know what to think of her. She doesn't speak. She's just… she's there. I've got this stranger in my head and I don't understand her."

"You have to give up some of your control. Let her spread her wings a bit. Once she settles, you'll understand her a bit better."

"Thank you," I said, biting my lip. I wanted to say more but nothing came.

"And learn to fly," he added, smiling with those sharp, sharp teeth as he lept over the edge of the roof and away.

Standing on the Edge of Nowhere

I'm standing on the edge of the balcony, trying to pretend there aren't tears in my eyes. The streetlights are flickering like candles. There's knowing the theory stacks up, and then there's actually jumping.

I'm not that sure.

I want to believe Lin. I feel fire in my spine, not a gentle warmth. It's uncomfortable, itchy.

I climb up onto the ledge and set my mind to what I'm doing. The street below empties; suddenly everyone would rather be elsewhere. So would I, to be honest. Wind cuts through me.

The Firebird makes it clear she disagrees.

I step forward.

I don't know what I was expecting. Not this. There's a second of falling, then everything stops as if a wand has been waved. The Firebird has been a quiet nudge in my chest; now she rears up in full force.

My arms stretch in ways that shouldn't be possible. The itchiness is the push of feathers through my skin. I am not the bird, though, not really. It is her, the Firebird, who flaps our wings and finds an updraft and soars into the sky.

I'm only watching. I've given up control completely, and I've never felt so free.

Distil

Notes: The opposite of screwing up is hard.

The shift from bird to woman was so smooth that I didn't notice until my foot touched down on the top of the Lupu Bridge that I was myself again. The wind was sharp as I looked away from the river below.

I took my time, studying Lin from behind. I had been chasing her, in one way or another, for almost a year now. Her hair had grown out and probably reached well past her waist now, though it was hard to tell as the wind whipped it around her head. She sat with a regal bearing, as if she watched over Shencheng because it was hers.

When she finally turned, we stared at each other for several long minutes. I fought back the temptation to speak first. I had to leave this in her hands.

She stood up before speaking. "What do you want, Zhenya?"

"To talk. To explain things."

"You have five minutes," Lin growled. "I suggest going with the short version."

"Okay, first thing. I'm sorry."

Lin snorted.

"Seriously. I've been thinking about it. I let myself get caught up in my own issues. I was an idiot."

"You were."

I bit my lip.

"But have you learned anything?"

I suspected it was a rhetorical question and stayed silent.

"Right now you think it's okay to give in, because you got what you wanted. What if I told you my destiny was to be emperor of- of the whole world? Will that gnaw at you too?" Lin seemed halfway between herself and the Dragon, taller, her eyes burning, her claws sharp and ready.

I hesitated, trying out the idea. I didn't want to rush this. "No. Ruling the world seems like a lot of work, and it's not my calling. But if you want, I'll help you get there."

She was in my face in a minute, claws ready. "Do you think I need your help?"

No fear, the Firebird whispered. Show your throat. Let them know you aren't a threat. I did as she told me, stretching my neck and letting Lin's claws brush against it.

"No. I don't think you need it. But if I can make things easier, I'd like to. I love you."

Lin stared.

"I mean it. I fucked up, and I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to fix it, tell me. I'll do it. I'll renounce the Firebird, if that's what you want."

I heard laughter, but Lin was still serious. It took me a moment to realize it was coming from my own throat.

"That's adorable. She thinks it's her decision." The Firebird's voice was higher than my normal register and more melodic. "Yevgeniya, dear, you gave me an invitation but that doesn't mean I'm here at your beck and call."

I didn't have enough control to panic, but I wanted to.

When Lin spoke again, her voice had dropped to the bottom of her range. "I'm growing tired of waiting for these children to work things out."

"You know it's better in the long run if they don't hate each other as well as resent us."

Lin shook her head. "I can make my own decisions, you know. And I'm willing to give her another chance. You don't have to push me into it."

"Thank you," I told Lin, only realizing it was my own voice when I heard it out loud.

"Next time you're thinking about doing something stupid, talk to me first," Lin said as she sat back down on the bridge.

I sat next to her. "I'm looking to cut down on doing stupid things, actually. I hope you're not disappointed."

"I'll find a new court jester, I'm sure." She smiled, all teeth, but the laughter in her voice sounded genuine. "But if I'm going to be emperor of the world, would you like to be my concubine?"

"Not empress?" I smiled back.

"You have to earn that."

I laughed hard enough that I almost lost my balance, more from relief than anything. "Yes, your majesty. I would like that very much."