There were corpses in the streets. Not many, not yet. Just enough for that familiar stench of the battlefield before carrion got to work. It turned the streets of Shanghai into familiar grounds for Constance. Just another warzone filled with corpses. The architecture and tools became secondary before the universal nature of human suffering, and human cruelty. The cloying heat didn’t help. Sweat stuck Constance’s gloves to her skin. It made her armored dress damp, clinging to her lower back. She would still not trade them for anything.

She clenched her teeth. A flick of her finger and cool air would surround her in its familiar embrace. It would also make her trail aura all over the place, laying a track every mage in Shanghai would follow. Her signature was too… exotic.

“Are you alright?” Wang asked.

Constance did not slow her gait, nor did she focus entirely on the conversation. The streets were not safe. Patrols walked them, moving carefully between checkpoints. The pair had resorted to rooftop traveling on occasion despite the risks. Some of those were positively rickety.

“One would think that I would have grown used to carnage, yet after all those years, I still cannot take it.”

“You must have seen quite a few horrors with… the vampire.”

“You would suspect that, yet the deaths she inflicts are never so gratuitous. See that one?”

Constance pointed at a couple killed behind an abandoned food cart. The man lay face first on the ground while the girl still sat against a wall, her short hair matted with blood. A torn suitcase lay gutted on the wet ground beside them. There were clothes lying stained in the mud.

“Fleeing couple. They got caught by a patrol. They jumped and killed the man before interrogating the girl.”

“How can you tell?”

“Hematoma near her wrist.”

Wang stopped. So did Constance with some annoyance. They had no reason to linger because she could continue her explanation on the road. She was still in danger, even when no one hunted her.

“You have the eyes of an eagle, to see from that far.”

“Perhaps.”

Constance ignored the unspoken question. They started moving soon after.

“I apologize for the interruption. Please go on.”

“They didn’t ask for long given the lack of other wounds and just opted to execute her, a bullet to the head. They looted their belongings before moving on. Scared, perhaps. That was gratuitous. Unnecessary. The liches fight like that sometimes. Some just capture everyone in a village. Others kill the defenders, even when they don’t have to. Once, we found a church. Men had tried to fortify it and they’d gathered the children in the basement. The lich had… made an example. That was the hardest thing I’ve seen.”

“I believe I understand. Your monster does not believe that life should be too cheap. It is a… commendable belief.”

“That you do not share?”

“It is belief, not fact. The facts are all around you.”

“Careful, patrol, to the left. We can take that corner here.”

“And ears like a fox too.”

Eastern practices reinforced the body, but not the senses. At least, not to the same degree. Those were Constance’s observations. Wang was testing her subtly as well as through small confrontations. He knew she could do more than she should. The reason for her power though, was being Ariane’s Servant. She had compared notes with Constantine’s sister and she knew her might came partly from Ariane’s monstrous might.

It paid to draw strength from a practical demigod.

Mostly, it came with the dawn. It also woke her up every time. As one slumbered, the other rose. That power in her limbs had grown in time and now it was mature. It would protect her until nightfall and then fade a little. But then, she didn’t have to fight during the night. She had her own fury-propelled war lady. For now, everything was sharp. The stench of voided bowels warned her of dead bodies in a nearby house, the smashed door confirming what had happened a moment later. Sounds were also amplified. There were heartbeats in those houses around her. Scared heartbeats pulsing in so many chests. Terrified. They pumped blood and the vitality it carried through their frail bodies. She just had to get in. Nothing could stop her. She would take her knife and plunge it in their tender flesh, part it, let the crimson essence flow and—

Ariane’s essence. Distracting, sometimes. Had to wonder how she got anything done.

Constance licked her lips and the nubs of her too-small canines. Wang caught something. He flinched and turned to her, so she returned him a pleasant smile. A moment later, the patrol she’d warned about moved through the city in silence. Those were mobsters, faces ravaged by opium abuse. Thin limbs. She could break them like twigs if she wanted, punish them for what they’d done. What she could smell on their stained rags. She wouldn’t. There was just one Constance and so many injustices to solve. Picking her battles had been the hardest lesson to learn.

“We’re almost there,” Wang finally said.

“Hold on. Someone’s on the roof.”

They were at the edge of the international settlement, basically a merge between the English and American enclaves. A barrier stood a street over. This one was manned by anglo soldiers with machine-guns. Not a trifle, though nothing insurmountable. It was just the aura that protected them, the knowledge that messing with those people would attract the ire of the world’s most powerful nations. They still didn’t take any chances. Constance heard the thundering heartbeats of several squads. She smelled cigarettes and coffee in the air. Above her, another heartbeat answered to the staccato of the farther orchestra. She climbed lightly, but stopped midway to glare at Wang. The man blushed, caught peering at her exposed calves. Ariane would have bitten his head off but Constance merely gave him a knowing smile.

He blushed even more.

Her uncovered hand scraped painfully against the stone. Her gear was too heavy, especially the haversack that contained her tools and weapons. On the flat roof, she found a small sniper nest with a single shooter next to a small radio. No spotter. Sloppy. The man turned when he heard Wang’s feet fall on clattering tiles. Constance grabbed his mind as he spotted her and gave him a dazzling smile. He was young and tan with light brown curls. The beginning of a beard struggled on his sweaty face, but he remained remarkably calm when he inspected her.

She was a white woman wearing good clothes, clean, with a hat, ergo not a threat.

“Hello hello! Don’t worry I have the right to be here,” she told him in a cheerful southern drawl.

“Oh of course,” the soldier replied with a British accent. “Ma’am. Didn’t mean to stare.”

“No worries at all. We will go over to that house over there, get out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Please be careful and return as soon as possible.”

“You’re very kind.”

The sentry returned to his vigil. Wang and Constance crossed the street soon after. Constance could taste the concern in the Chinese man’s sweat. It always amused her when they were afraid of her.

“May I ask a question?”

“And even two.”

“Much obliged. Are you doing something to me? Like you did to that boy?”

“Why would I?” Constance asked with pretend indignity. “You are already doing everything I want!”

This answer didn’t please Mr. Wang too much. Constance chuckled and they finally reached their destination.

It was a colonial house hidden behind high edges. Thick brick walls and alcoved windows complemented white lime wall and exposed wooden beams. It was as if a Frenchman from Alsace had taken his home apart piece by piece, carried it over the seas and then rebuilt everything here. The expansive place belonged to one Mr. Colmar, a fake name of course. Constance was rather sure they had found Baudouin.

Now, Melusine’s vassal believed the money came from a series of opium dens, especially those that may have changed hands in the recent years. The sects had found them and quite a few gave their profits to Mr. Colmar himself, an intimidating man with a nasty smile, piercing eyes, and a scary business acumen. Constance was going to visit the house and learn more. There was little doubt in her mind that Moor would not be here, but she was also confident there would be a trace they might follow.

The pair landed in the empty, small garden after scaling the outer walls. Besides spikes, there had been no defenses to speak of. The house itself was another matter entirely. Solid protections surrounded it from ground to roof.

“What now?” Wang asked.

“Now we engage in the age-old tradition of breaking and entering.”

“Ah?”

There were three major things Constance could do that Ariane could not. The first was going out during the day. The second was lying shamelessly as she had done to the sentry, a thing Ariane could no longer do, though she didn’t realize it. The third and by far most entertaining one was home burglary. Constance retrieved her pouch and opened it, revealing quite a few tools.

“I confess, I am not used to such activities. My faction is righteous. We do not act like xiaotou. Thieves.”

“Really? What do you do when you need to get into a house?”

“We… knock.”

Constance stopped to stare.

“Sometimes forcefully,” Wang added.

“How is that working out for you?”

She approached a nearby first floor window, currently shuttered. An enchantment covered the opening so she applied a powerful arcane acid from a small vial, then watched the carved wood bubble. After a short delay, she removed the shutter’s interior with a wet squelch. The glass behind was cut and moved with a spell, leaving the entire shutter frame intact, the alarm untriggered, and the house vulnerable.

“I can appreciate that a more balanced approach might be preferable.”

They climbed through the opening and looked, or at least Constance did until Wang fumbled for a light.

“Nu Sarrehin,” she whispered.

The fae tongue rolled off hers with an aftertaste of nostalgia, hers and that of her teacher. Hers was born from missing that famous trip, only living it vicariously through paintings and tales. Ariane’s, well, she kept quiet about it. Perhaps she would live long enough to walk the spheres.

“I appreciate it. Where do we start?”

“Baudouin’s office. It will be upstairs.”

“This is an office as well.”

“His will have an additional layer of defenses. Here is too exposed.”

She leaned on a table, finding an invoice for furniture. Baudouin wouldn’t care about miscellaneous spendings.

“Secretary’s office. Baudouin focused on the income back in America.”

“We must move in silence, for there could be guards.”

“No, this place is deserted.”

Constance thought for a moment.

“There could be a golem.”

“A what?”

***

Baudouin’s domain was not too hard to find. He had picked the master bedroom and reconverted it, changing the door to a rococo horror with enough gold paint to cover a car. A plate read ‘bossman’ in upper cases, also in gold, in gothic letters. A lush red carpet led to it.

And yet, they found a strictly organized office behind. Ariane had warned her. Baudouin only affected the appearance of vulgarity, cultivating it with care so he would be underestimated, but Moor’s mortal servant was a shrewd businessman with a gift for using the right people. It would be interesting to get his measure.

There was also the possibility they might kill each other. It was considered acceptable in a confrontation to the death between powerful vampires such as was the case now. No matter what, a servant died with their master. She was fully committed. But first, they had to find Moor before she decided to leave the city with her ill-gotten gains to start elsewhere.

“Is any of this useful?” Wang asked as he watched Constance search through the documents. He held a piece of paper covered in densely packed scribbles, face lost in dismay. It was not hard to guess why.

“It’s all coded,” Constance admitted laconically.

It would have been nice if Baudouin had left a nice note saying ‘we live over there, cheers,’ but reality was seldom this accommodating.

“Can you… break it?”

“Not really. Baudouin does not so much use a cypher as his own thief cant. Look here, he mentions ‘trois deniers pour moué’. Moué is the phonetical spelling of what ‘moi’ used to sound in French. Still does in the countryside. Deniers is an obsolete form of currency. Those are accounts, yet we would be hard-pressed to find what means what exactly. I doubt he shared the meaning either. What matters to him is that he understands himself.”

“Then we cannot find him.”

“There is a way, but it will be dangerous.”

“Do tell?”

“We will trigger the alarm. And he will come.”

Wang considered their options in silence. He had fought off assassins with grim determination the day before, but now it was different. She was asking him to seek danger.

“You are certain? He might send servants instead.”

“Not for the breach of his sanctum. He will want to know if anything was lost, and…”

She hesitated. She still didn’t trust the Chinese man. Oh, he was polite, competent, easy on the eyes. It didn’t mean he would not favor his own agenda. Nevertheless, this was not a significant piece of information.

“He will also come because… that is what I would do. Being a Servant comes with an interesting set of new instincts and drives. A man like him will fight for his territory.”

“I see. Then success is assured… provided we can take out his escort.”

“Which he will have, yes. Do not worry. I have a plan. In the meanwhile, we must damage the wards.”

Wang took a few steps to the side, pivoted on himself then lashed out. His right foot gained a silvery gleam when it met the gaudy door. The door lost. It was sent careening in the hallway.

“That will do nicely,” Constance said.

“I aim to please.”

“Then go pick up your door. We will need the way clear in case we need to run.”

***

The plan was to shoot Baudouin.

If hurting a Servant was not so abhorrent to a vampire, Ariane would have been proud. As it was, Constance chambered a marker bullet in her enchanted revolver, ‘memento mori’. It would be an easy shot if Baudouin stood still. She hoped he would.

“There is some sort of commotion near the checkpoint,” Wang noticed.

The house stood close to the border of the settlement so the military checkpoint was only a few blocks away. Expert eastern mages could scale the walls at a moment’s notice, avoiding the sentries if they tried. Baudouin was not such a man. They watched a small group detach themselves from the mass of soldiers, stopping at the corner of the deserted street near tramway tracks. Too far even for her enchanted weapon. A few moments later, they were joined by eastern mages who dropped nimbly from nearby roofs. Those wore loose clothes of drab colors. Constance hoped those were not muscles she saw moving under their trousers or a kick would send her into orbit.

“Toad style experts. Traitors! The council will not like that.”

“If we can prove anything.”

“I can always bring a hand.”

Constance turned from the window with a curious look on her face.

“A hand, used in a ritual to… this is not important. What? This is not savagery! Do not pretend that you have not committed dire acts as well.”

“I’m not the one collecting body parts as trophies.”

“Please do not give my face too many colors to see. Oh, they are coming.”

Constance waited, hidden behind a curtain. Baudouin looked up and frowned. He probably remembered that every shutter had been in place when he had left. The group hastened. Unfortunately, Baudouin kept his men between the house and himself. Besides the eastern mages, he had a pair of white goons in slightly outsized suits. Probably imported. No way they had the brain cells to take a boat to a place they could not spell.

As Constance despaired for a clean shot, Baudouin gestured to the side, two of the practitioners detached themselves from the group on their way the side entrance.

For an instant, the messy group’s formation was undone. It was all Constance needed. Her breath calmed down as she pointed her gun in front of her, feet apart. Time seemed to slow as she focused. There was only her and that tiny gap towards Baudouin’s left leg.

She pulled the trigger.

Memento mori roared and the glass of the window formed a perfect, half-burnt circle. Her ears rang. Her bones hurt. Enchanted bullets were a bitch on the wrist.

Blood was spilled in the heated street, one that had escaped the slaughter until now. Baudouin’s face formed an ‘o’ of surprise, then he grasped for his wounded limb. Constance saw the red liquid pooling under his hairy hands, not too much though, thankfully. It would have been counterproductive to hit an artery.

Or perhaps she should have and let a bereaved Moor come to them. But no, vampires became unpredictable when they mourned. Baudouin decided for her. He turned and made a run for it, or a limp rather. Meanwhile, his goons charged the house with a level of anger Constance had not expected from hired louts.

“Watch our flank, some will be coming from the side entrance.”

“Understood.”

Before Constance could move, she saw a shadow approach the damaged window. The first toad style fighter smashed through the opening without difficulty, his trousers breaking under the flex of the largest quadriceps she had ever seen on a human. Honestly, he could give buffalos a run for their money.

So Constance shot him.

The other five bullets were lethal.

The man’s revoltingly ugly face twisted into a rictus of outrage when his ribcage exploded. She emptied most of the revolver in it, center mass. He wouldn’t fall. She expected him to jump but he never did. A terrible scream escaped his blood-stained lips. He fell to his knees.

Constance collapsed on herself by reflex. A shape blurred above her, then smashed into a far wall in a shower of plaster. Wang was here like a blur to stop another. They fought in a flurry of deadly strikes, fists covered in metallic light against gnarly flesh. She rolled behind Baoudouin’s desk an instant before a foot came where she had been, showering her in splinters. It smelled like old wood and, strangely, vinegar. Wang engaged him as well, managing both warriors at once. She stood and noticed a third toad warrior on the window.

“Winter’s tooth,” she said in Likaean

The quickly cast spell left a blue sheen on the man’s chest. Hallucinations attacked his mind. He was being devoured. He was eaten from the inside. Jagged teeth gnawed his bones. He roared in pain, which she amplified a moment later with a mind assault. Her own attack met a powerful compulsion already embedded in his mind in a terrible clash. The hesitation let the man recover. His legs brimmed with power.

“Lake of Erinoth,” she said in Likaean.

His heavy body hit the shield, which bent forward. An expression of triumph twisted her foe’s face. He was very close, so close. She felt his mind struggling against the drive to dive forward for that one special prize, to lose some more heat for a prize beyond his dreams. Again, a foreign influence opposed her but she was here and the other one was not. The shield fragmented like ice over the coldest waters. The man stopped, his smile a terrible rictus of frozen greed. Constance twisted towards the room’s entrance.

“Kiss of winter.”

Pure cold expanded in a cone in front of her, leaving the wood brittle and blue. The corridor’s entrance slammed open to reveal the flankers. Wang punched his remaining foe with both hands in a strange gesture that catapulted him on the path of her expanding orb. The flankers dodged to the side, but Wang’s victim was caught in the trajectory. He froze solid, falling with the noise of broken stone.

The two survivors rushed back in with war cries and their enthusiasm intact. Wang dodged under a jumping kick and punched up into his enemy’s nethers. Even Constance winced when something crunched with a ghastly sound. She reflexively fanned the cold flame of terror in the survivor’s mind, but once again hit a wall. Her last opponent dodged under Wang’s kick. Constance barely saw him squat in a strange position towards her before her training kicked in. She jumped to the side. Pain shot up her wrist when she hit the ground but it did not interrupt her casting. A heavy weight crashed against the wall with a heavy thud where she had been an instant before.

“Last embrace,” she said in Likaean.

Constance allowed the alien magic to take over. The room took a blue hue and she suddenly felt sympathy for that poor little man, all alone, all scared under that nasty control spell. The fae magic made her stretch her hand to the flabbergasted man with all the love in the world. His control spell blew away like fresh snow in a blizzard. She would free him. Forever. Because she loved all of creation, and it would accept the gentle repose she offered in time. Her finger reached the skin while her gaze bored into his, sharing her undying felicity. Yes, little morsel. You are free forever.

The spell faded, its task done. Little was left but the crisp smell of winter and that warmth that came at the end. Colors returned to her. The last foe stood where he was, crystallized to his very marrow. Tears of felicity, bliss like sapphires on his cobalt face.

A shot broke the silence.

Constance rushed to peek through the shutters. Outside, the international settlement militia sprinted towards a fleeing goon who had dropped a gun where he was. Not the smartest bulbs, those lads. Constance would have cried and begged them for help, but Baudouin had no need for intellect among his hired muscle. Nevertheless, she had what she wanted.

“Let’s go. Next time I’m setting up a circle, risks of being found out or not. I have never had so many men jump on me.”

“China is a great place for new experiences.”

Constance watched Wang’s back as they ran. She could swear he was blushing.

***

It took a while for Constance and Wang to avoid pursuit. By then, it took a moment for Constance to create a tracking spell. They followed it from the edge of the British cordon. It was fresh. It appears even the smooth Baudouin had issues convincing a full patrol to let him wander with a bullet wound. There were no spots of blood so she assumed he’d wisely decided to use some method of transport. The trail was still fresh. It still took them a while to track it down past the traveling patrols, deeper into the slums. Constance was tiring despite her improved constitution. Battles had a way to drain her and she had been in two in so many days. The spell led to a local manor no different from any others at the edge of the Yellow River.

The smell of mud was overpowering while Constance inspected the compound. The doors were thoroughly locked. It was quiet here, but she could still spot patrolling guards from her vantage point off the road. Subtle magic protection hung in the air, some western and others local. More importantly, many of the windows were shuttered tight. Someone inside had a sunlight sensitivity.

Only other manors occupied this place. She was not sure, but there could be a pier on the property.

“So, this is it?”

“The marker says the bullet was removed. It was done so here, so even if this is not Moor’s abode, it is still her main base due to the size, people, and existence of medical facilities.”

“Oh. Will we do any more thief activities?”

“No. Not unless you wish to die? I may be spared and captured as a Servant, but you would be fair game and I do not believe the two of us could assault such a large place, not to mention the risks of getting indoors.”

“A fair point. I saw what your mistress could do.”

“You have seen nothing at all. When the skies darken and you find yourself in a thorn forest without end hunted by ancient guardians, then you know she has developed an interest.”

Wang swung between concern and disbelief.

“You seem to hold her in high regard.”

“I have been her partner for a long time now. She is still a monster but… she grows on you.”

“Peculiar. I would not expect a… servant to use such familiar expressions.”

“Servants for vampires mean something different. We are their daylight counterparts. Some are complementary, others similar. We all share something, however.”

“What is it?”

“We are not scared of monsters.”

“I suppose this is a requirement.”

“Speaking of, I fear that we may have an issue. A serious one. Those men we fought were subjugated by a subtle charm effect. I fear those may not be spells so much as essence, a natural ability.”

“I do not follow.”

“They were perhaps traitors but they were controlled. Moor or one of her minions infiltrated your council of the grandmasters, possibly for years. She has her claws in your Jianghu warriors.”

Wang turned and showed the strongest emotion since they’d met. It was fear and strangely, grief.

“Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?”

“I could swear that the marks were left by a vampire, though it was both subtle and strong. Unsurprising, coming from the bloodline with the best ability to manipulate. Are you alright?”

“No! No, I am not alright! Do you not understand? My people wanted to bridge the chasm between our two worlds, but if the first mage contact ended in manipulation and deceit, why, it would prove everything our enemies are trying to demonstrate! If your quarry has turned our people against themselves then it will be the most significant act since the opium war, our own humiliation. We will lose all hope of ever reaching an understanding with your side. And just because of one woman. Wo de tian. Zhen de shi buke siyi.”

“Only you and I know,” Constance reminded him.

“What?”

“Only we know. The others will believe the toad style fighters were lured by power, cultivation gifts to improve their power at a dark price. It would not be the first time, right?”

“... no, it would not.”

“And besides, even a Lancaster cannot grow a seed in a barren garden. They must have been ripe for corruption before she began. Vampires will go for the weak link every time. They are quite expert at it.”

“You may speak the truth. Still, the realization that we were betrayed before even meeting one of your kind…”

“We are here to kill her,” Constance reminded him.

Wang glared, but then his expression softened. A disillusioned smile carved through his handsome face.

“You are not here on our behalf. You could hardly care less about our well being.”

“I do,” Constance said without thinking. “I care. We came for ourselves but we have reached an agreement. It was our first and natural reaction. We respected your customs.”

Wang sighed, a weight leaving his wide shoulders.

“You are right. I cannot expect strangers to immediately care about our plight. You have dealt with us fairly, and most of us have done the same. I only hope that the future will not change that.”

They fell into a companionable silence after that. Constance sent a quick message to Ariane, notifying her they had probably found the main base.

After that, it was just a question of waiting. The city behind them was getting more and more agitated, with patrols clashing and ambushes triggered everywhere. There was a limit to what a lone mage could achieve. Constance could die from a stone to the head just as easily as from a bullet, therefore the risk of interception was not worth crossing the city again. As for taking the long way around, it would take far too much time.

Also, she wanted to visit the lavatories.

Constance convinced Wang to get in one of the nearby, deserted manors. It was clear the occupants had left recently and in reasonably good order. It only took a couple of spells to open the gates. Constance used the opportunity to clean up as much as she could. A little fire magic let her dry her battle dress to an acceptable level. Still, she could not wait for this little escapade to be over.

They even found tea, which they took in the manor’s courtyard.

“I feel terribly ambivalent about drinking tea in someone else’s home.” Wang confessed.

“So…. You do not want any?”

“That is not what I said.”

“Then… wait, I feel something.”

Constance moved from her chair in the house’s deserted room. The basic wards she had set around their temporary refuge had been damaged in every direction.

“Shit, incoming.”

“We should run.”

The sounds of fast heartbeats rang from all around, rushing towards her. They moved very fast.

“Too late.”

Constance raised a shield from the makeshift circle she had prepared, expecting the worst. Fortunately, the first person to appear was not the one she feared the most.

“Grandmaster Shu?”

Not just the old bearded man but his protégé Lei, then other grandmasters and practitioners jumped the surrounding walls. They all wore their weapons and in some cases, armor.

Ranks of eastern mages lined the walls all around Constance in every direction. She was utterly trapped. They had surrounded her, then moved in.

For a moment, silence reigned over the manor. Constance was only too happy to let it be. The sun was setting.

“What is the meaning of this?” Wang asked, to her annoyance.

“Grandmaster Shan was assassinated last night… by a foreign woman with yellow hair!” Lei said, eyes suspicious.

Constance decided to redirect the conversation before it could go somewhere she wouldn’t enjoy very much.

“And I suppose she was seen by many witnesses but they couldn’t get a clear view of her face? I also assume the assassin used a dagger, yes?”

Lei translated immediately, leading Constance to suspect that his outrage was faked, and he did not believe such a vulgar plot either.

“And we are supposed to believe them? Foreigners have no honor!” Lei translated. The accusation had come from the toad style master.

Wang immediately went on the offensive. Constance could not be sure what was said since her two translators were busy, but she could get the gist of it. The toad grandmaster scoffed until the orange-clad monk spoke a few words.

“He told them I was truthful,” Wang said excitedly, “that the toad master’s experts were without enemies.”

Mutters erupted in the rank and file of what Wang called ‘experts’ while the grandmasters themselves remained stoic. Subtly, the united line shifted to turn into groups as old alliances and enmities cracked the veneer of a united front.

“That was a mistake,” Constance replied.

“What?”

“Can’t you feel it?”

Left and right, charm markers went off, though only someone who had studied vampire charm could tell. Friend turned on friend, rivals revived old grudges. Everyone was arguing and more than a few auras flared with danger. Constance considered talking but she did not know their tongue and translating here would be too weak. And it would get their attention on her. Discreetly, she stepped back and out of the circle as the assembly turned into a mob. A feeling of anger gripped her chest but she pushed it away. It was an outside influence.

Constance shuddered as her power weakened ever so slightly.

Night had fallen.

“We can’t stay here,” she told Wang. “At least you can’t. She will-”

“Take her revenge as she always does, eventually,” a smooth, cultured English voice said from behind.

Constance slowly turned. A woman stood at the entrance of her refuge, her outline clear on the background of the river. She wore a traditional dress in black. Raven hair fell freely on her shoulders, framing a beautiful, aristocratic face. Emerald eyes filled with condescension inspected her. Constance felt judged and found wanting. She held the stumbling form of Baudouin under his shoulder. The man was sweating from the pain, though his leg was bandaged and clean.

“Do it, mistress. Show them a real charivari.”

“Of course, dear. You see, perhaps we Lancasters cannot match idiots like your mistress in a contest of brute strength, but we have no need to do so when the mortals will oblige. Allow me to demonstrate. Magna Arqa.”

Her eyes turned purple and slitted. Among the eastern mages, someone threw a punch.

The mob devolved into a brawl in a single instant. Spells and kicks sent fighters flying while a riot of color and aura shattered the fragile truce. Blood was spilled almost immediately. Savagery spread out like a wildfire, but it did not stop in the manor. A few seconds later, the first gunshots rang through the night. Cannons and the rattle of machine gun fire joined quickly. Two minutes later, a red halo informed Constance that Shanghai was burning.

The city had been a powder keg since day one. With two words, Moor had lit the fuse. Thousands of people would die tonight because a Lancaster had let go.

“Now I suppose your friends will be busy for some time. As for you, you know quite well I will not allow a servant to be hurt. However, you did shoot my Baudouin.”

“You whore!”

“Yes yes, my dear. Do calm down. You shot my Baudouin, so I believe a little… compensation is in order.”

Constance powered her shield before Moor was done talking. Before she could see the lady move, claws raked her defenses in front of Wang’s face.