ear.
His breath was cold on her neck. Ai Ling tensed, prompting him to yank harder, his fi ngers digging in her scalp.
“No!” She tried to shout, but could not draw enough breath. Her vision blurred.
He pushed her face onto the floor, and her jaw clamped shut. The taste of warm, metallic blood filled her mouth. Hot tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. Dirt smudged her lashes, and she felt the grit of it between her teeth.
Fei Ming ripped at her trousers, and she banged against the ground like a rag doll. He fondled her bare skin. She struggled in terror, but was pinned beneath the bulk of him.
66
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Her head spun as she fought off waves of nausea, made worse by the taste of blood and soil in her mouth.
Fei Ming raised himself for one brief moment. She gasped for breath, horrified. She tried to push herself off the ground; in an instant, he was gone. The jade pendant blazed hot against her chest.
Seconds later, there was a heavy thud and the creaking of tired wood boards. Confused and filled with fear, she rolled onto her side to find Fei Ming slumped on the ground, his chin on his chest and his lower half exposed. An aura of white sparks enveloped him.
Before she could look away, he flew into the air and slammed with a sickening crack against the ceiling. Pinned there, the glow that shrouded him cast leaping shadows across the derelict temple. Her pendant flickered brightly.
She was doing this. And she didn’t know how to control it.
Fei Ming crashed to the ground. Blood dripped from his nose, then dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
“No,” Ai Ling whispered.
A green mist began to coalesce, rising from Fei Ming until it took on the shape of something monstrous, twice taller than any man. Its head was huge, its face as flattened as an angry bull’s, the lower incisors jutting out. Red streaked across its features, reminding her of the opera masks that had scared her as a girl. Frost plumed from the flared nostrils. It lunged toward Ai Ling in one stride, its green eyes ablaze.
67
Cindy Pon
The demon moved into her. Consumed her. It caught her breath and heartbeat, plunged her in ice. A chaos of screeching overwhelmed her mind. The demon’s spirit pulsated within her, attempted to expand like an ink spill in her mind. Horrified and sickened, Ai Ling resisted. She closed herself to the evil, folding her spirit into a slippery wisp.
The demon shrieked and slashed through her being.
Then it was gone. Her head felt split open. A stench like burned hair hung in the air, and her ears were ringing. She gulped for breath. Her heart thudded against her chest like a fi st.
With great effort, she lifted her head and saw Fei Ming sprawled on the floor by the wall, his bloody face turned toward her. He was alive, but struggling. A gurgling sound escaped from his throat with each ragged breath.
The rope fell from her wrists, untwining like a snake in the air. Ai Ling tried to stand but pitched forward instead. And the world collapsed to pinpricks of light until her vision failed her entirely.
Ai Ling groaned when she woke. Unable to focus, she blinked several times, feeling the ache and tremble of her body. Bright sunshine filtered through the windows of the abandoned temple.
She rose to her feet with effort, stumbling once and scraping the heel of her hand on the rough floor. Wincing, she slowly walked over to Fei Ming, who had not moved.
68
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Dry blood crusted his nose and mouth. His eyes were half closed, his pallor like the naked skin of poultry offered at the butcher’s, but he was still breathing.
She kneeled on bruised knees, pulled down his black tunic with a quivering hand to cover him. Her breath came in short gasps, and her stomach lurched. She grabbed her pendant, drawing comfort from the grooves etched in the stone. Fei Ming terrified her, even though he must have been possessed.
She laid a light hand on him. She hesitated, her
His breath was cold on her neck. Ai Ling tensed, prompting him to yank harder, his fi ngers digging in her scalp.
“No!” She tried to shout, but could not draw enough breath. Her vision blurred.
He pushed her face onto the floor, and her jaw clamped shut. The taste of warm, metallic blood filled her mouth. Hot tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. Dirt smudged her lashes, and she felt the grit of it between her teeth.
Fei Ming ripped at her trousers, and she banged against the ground like a rag doll. He fondled her bare skin. She struggled in terror, but was pinned beneath the bulk of him.
66
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Her head spun as she fought off waves of nausea, made worse by the taste of blood and soil in her mouth.
Fei Ming raised himself for one brief moment. She gasped for breath, horrified. She tried to push herself off the ground; in an instant, he was gone. The jade pendant blazed hot against her chest.
Seconds later, there was a heavy thud and the creaking of tired wood boards. Confused and filled with fear, she rolled onto her side to find Fei Ming slumped on the ground, his chin on his chest and his lower half exposed. An aura of white sparks enveloped him.
Before she could look away, he flew into the air and slammed with a sickening crack against the ceiling. Pinned there, the glow that shrouded him cast leaping shadows across the derelict temple. Her pendant flickered brightly.
She was doing this. And she didn’t know how to control it.
Fei Ming crashed to the ground. Blood dripped from his nose, then dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
“No,” Ai Ling whispered.
A green mist began to coalesce, rising from Fei Ming until it took on the shape of something monstrous, twice taller than any man. Its head was huge, its face as flattened as an angry bull’s, the lower incisors jutting out. Red streaked across its features, reminding her of the opera masks that had scared her as a girl. Frost plumed from the flared nostrils. It lunged toward Ai Ling in one stride, its green eyes ablaze.
67
Cindy Pon
The demon moved into her. Consumed her. It caught her breath and heartbeat, plunged her in ice. A chaos of screeching overwhelmed her mind. The demon’s spirit pulsated within her, attempted to expand like an ink spill in her mind. Horrified and sickened, Ai Ling resisted. She closed herself to the evil, folding her spirit into a slippery wisp.
The demon shrieked and slashed through her being.
Then it was gone. Her head felt split open. A stench like burned hair hung in the air, and her ears were ringing. She gulped for breath. Her heart thudded against her chest like a fi st.
With great effort, she lifted her head and saw Fei Ming sprawled on the floor by the wall, his bloody face turned toward her. He was alive, but struggling. A gurgling sound escaped from his throat with each ragged breath.
The rope fell from her wrists, untwining like a snake in the air. Ai Ling tried to stand but pitched forward instead. And the world collapsed to pinpricks of light until her vision failed her entirely.
Ai Ling groaned when she woke. Unable to focus, she blinked several times, feeling the ache and tremble of her body. Bright sunshine filtered through the windows of the abandoned temple.
She rose to her feet with effort, stumbling once and scraping the heel of her hand on the rough floor. Wincing, she slowly walked over to Fei Ming, who had not moved.
68
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Dry blood crusted his nose and mouth. His eyes were half closed, his pallor like the naked skin of poultry offered at the butcher’s, but he was still breathing.
She kneeled on bruised knees, pulled down his black tunic with a quivering hand to cover him. Her breath came in short gasps, and her stomach lurched. She grabbed her pendant, drawing comfort from the grooves etched in the stone. Fei Ming terrified her, even though he must have been possessed.
She laid a light hand on him. She hesitated, her
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