“A rumor I heard, during the war,” Zhang said, “about a paranormal British defector who’d sided with the Germans. I don’t know that man’s real name; I only ever heard him called Mr. Hyde.”
Ice crawled over Arthur’s skin. “Why?” he said hoarsely.
Zhang hesitated, then said, “Because they believed he could change his form to that of a monster.”
Arthur’s pulse was now loud enough to drown out the wind. “You think my interrogator could have been a paranormal?” He pointed at the footprint in the sand. “You think—”
His throat closed and he couldn’t speak. He could still recite entire passages fromThe Curious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the only thing he’d had to distract himself those days in that cell. He’d assumed the battered book was all the guards had had in English, but if it had been the twisted joke of a sadistic paranormal captor—
“None of us know what to think.” Jade’s jaw had grown tight. “Maybe it’s too much to connect a footprint with a dream. But then, is anything ever too much where magic is concerned?”
Arthur ran a hand over his face as his emotions continued their tailspin. “But even if this is, somehow, all the same man, how could he come to New York and Zhang not see him?”
“I don’t know.” Zhang was shaking his head. “But I didn’t see these footprints made, and they appeared right where there was a disturbance on the plane last night, in a place where Rory used more magic than any of us have ever seen one person use.”
Rory. Arthur forced his panic away as a new kind of worry seized him. “If there’s even a chance these were made by the man—beast—the one who—” He bit it off. “I should search the city. I’ll think of some excuse for John and the governor—”
“—who won’t forgive you, because they don’t know about magic,” Jade gently interrupted. “We came back to America to protect innocents and that includes your family, Ace. Your brother is likely already cursed; we’re not going sabotage his Senate run too.”
Arthur winced. “But whatever left these footprints, I don’t want it within one hundred miles of Rory.”
“Rory can come to the teahouse,” said Zhang. “He can stay with us as long as he needs.”
Arthur gave him a grateful look. “I’ll pay for Rory’s lunch.”
Zhang waved it off. “My mother’s been wanting to meet him. It would give her a chance to talk to Rory about his magic and his ring.”
Arthur touched his pocket, where he’d brought along both of the magic totems from his home for the Zhangs to examine, the Italian compass that had helped him find Rory across the Hudson River, along with the ring that had put him there. “Rory’s just so vulnerable,” he said quietly, the mess of his emotions making his anxieties spill out. One almost-nightmare, one uncertain footprint, and he wanted to go straight from this beach to the antiques shop and then keep driving, take Rory somewhere safe. “His psychometry offers no protection and he can’t wear the ring without risking a tempest. There’s no security at his boardinghouse; I at least have decent locks on my apartment, but if I don’t meet Wesley’s ship this afternoon, and John or the governor find out—”
“You can do what your family needs.” Jade’s voice was gentle. She exchanged a look with Zhang, one of those silent communications between lovers. “I don’t think Rory’s any kind of target,” she said, looking back at Arthur. “You’re the one who’s thrown by a footprint like this. And it’s your brother with nightmares, dreaming of you.”
“I can take care of myself,” Arthur said.
“We’re not saying you can’t,” Jade said placatingly. “Just asking you to be careful as well.”
“I’ll be fine,” Arthur promised, as he held out the ring and the compass both to Zhang. “I’ll rejoin you too as soon as I’ve dropped Wesley off.”
As Zhang took and pocketed Rory’s items, Jade tilted her head. “Are you certain it will be that easy to get away? Lord Fine is a guest of the governor; won’t John expect you to entertain him tonight?”
“Normally yes, but when Wesley discovers I’m the one supposed to shepherd him about town, he won’t be able to send me away fast enough. He’s going to want as little to do with me as I want with him.”
“If you say so,” Jade said lightly.
Chapter Eighteen
Zhang had seemed pretty serious when he showed up in the antiques shop, asking Rory to head to the Dragon House and wait for him and Jade. Rory’d been wanting to see Zhang’s restaurant anyway, so with Mrs. Brodigan’s blessing he caught the train down to Canal Street, then followed the directions Zhang had given to Chinatown.
Mott Street was full of multistory buildings with fire escapes in front and shops on the ground, colorful hanging banners and people chattering in Chinese. One shop had stuff to see on the sidewalk, tea sets on shelves and a rack of patterned smoking jackets, and he passed more than one bakery with golden bread in the window.
He turned down a narrow street and found the Dragon House halfway down, tucked beneath a red awning in a redbrick building with a black fire escape. It had a white banner painted with red Chinese characters, and even the sidewalk outside smelled good.
It looked closed at the moment, too early for dinner, too late for lunch. Rory hesitantly raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before he did, revealing a pretty Chinese girl about his age. Her long black hair was swept back in a bun, and she was dressed in black and white, reminding him of his own restaurant days.
“Rory?”
He hunched, very aware of his bare head and rumpled curls. “Yeah.”
She smiled and held the door wider. “I’m Ling. Come in.”
