The Serpent Princess (House of the North #1)

1

S imone drove into the small, open-air parking area under Kwun Lung Lau, unlocked the barrier on the parking space, and reversed the Mercedes into it.

Although part of the 960s-era government housing complex had been replaced with two enormous modern towers of tiny, hundred-square-foot apartments after a lethal landslide, four of the original, interlinked twenty-two storey towers remained. The older part of the complex was almost exclusively occupied by elderly residents who had refused the government’s offer to move to something newer in North Point or the New Territories. Their televisions played at full volume in every apartment, and the sound of TVB Jade, the Cantonese-language television station, echoed around the hillside.

The connected snake of towers formed a semicircle around the hillside, with the inevitable concrete covering the side of the hill beneath them. A road passed through a square arch beneath the building on the end, leading to an open, paved area where there was room for ten parked cars under a couple of tired, dusty trees that sheltered stacks of mops, buckets, and traditional Chinese rice straw brooms.

Simone walked out of the complex through the tunnel that pierced the end building and headed to the shining new Hong Kong Jockey Club Student Village next door The village was halfway up the side of Hong Kong Island and consisted of four massive towers that shadowed the shorter Kwun Lung Lau complex. Simone’s boyfriend, Graham Zhou, waited for her the small lobby of the second tower, standing next to the door. There were no security guards, and the lobby was painted white above pine panelling that reached halfway up the walls in a nod to decoration, but was otherwise bare, with a plain, beige-tiled floor. Graham opened the door and joined her when he saw her.

Graham was a half-Chinese, half-White Canadian, and was taller than her, but not nearly as muscular, indicating his scholarly life. He wasn’t overweight but his strength was obviously in his intellect. He had brown eyes behind his wire-framed glasses, light brown hair, and fair skin a similar shade to hers. Sometimes people asked if they were related. They’d share a grin about ‘mixed kids’.

‘Love the outfit,’ she said.

He looked down at himself; he was wearing dress slacks, a business shirt, and a tie with a chunky cream-coloured cardigan. ‘It’s not too much?’

‘The tie isn’t really necessary ...’

He touched it, unsure.

‘But they’ll appreciate that you dressed up.’

He nodded, more confident. ‘I’m freaking out here. You’re driving us up there?’

‘You’re scared of my driving?’

‘No. No!’ he said, waving his hands in front of him. ‘It’s just ... a place in Hong Kong that isn’t served by public transport? So strange.’

‘It is if you’re willing to take the green minibus up to the Peak and then a massive hike up the hill,’ she said.

‘Your family is so wealthy,’ he said weakly.

‘Don’t panic, they’re not snobby or anything,’ she said. ‘My dad will probably be dressed like a hobo. Ready?’

He nodded, smiling at the ‘hobo’ comment.

‘The family car is down in the car park,’ she said. ‘Fair warning, it’s a big Mercedes, because of course it is.’

‘Yep,’ he said. ‘That or a Beemer. Inevitable in this town.’ He followed her back down the hill and into the housing estate with its buildings painted in bright, fading colours, streaked with black car exhaust and mould around the wet laundry hanging on bamboo poles. The cool, damp air was thick with the smell of incense, and frying fish and pork. He stopped at the car. ‘How did you get a park here? This car park is always full.’

‘A friend of my dad’s owns the space,’ Simone said. ‘She visits all the time.’ She left out the fact that it had been to practice martial arts on the building’s roof, away from prying eyes during the demolition, and that the Red Phoenix had never bothered to sell the space after the residents moved back in.

*

S he negotiated the car up the overgrown drive close to the top of the Peak, and the electric gate opened to reveal the concreted area around the base of the building. The family’s seventies-era apartment block was eleven storeys tall, stained with mould from the dampness, and had an old-fashioned open car park at ground level to house the residents’ expensive vehicles. She reversed the car into its space—pleased that Graham had seemed completely relaxed about and trusting of her driving—and guided him past the smiling security guards to the elevator.

‘Your family has the whole top floor?’ Graham asked Simone when they reached the eleventh floor and there was only one door with a small altar to the Door God on the floor next to it.

‘Yeah, and my big brother and his husband have the apartment directly underneath.’ She smiled at him. ‘Traditional Chinese families, you know. Massive.’

His expression froze and she put her hand on his arm to reassure him. ‘It’s fine. They’re great. They won’t interrogate you or give you a hard time, and don’t worry about remembering everybody’s names.’ She reminded him anyway. ‘It’s just my dad, John Chen, my stepmother, Emma Donahoe-Chen, and my little brother, Frankie.’

‘Okay, I guess.’ He was obviously still nervous, but nodded and straightened, steeling himself. ‘I can do this,’ he added under his breath.

‘You’ll be fine,’ she said, and bobbed up to kiss him on the cheek as she opened the front door.

The family was in the living room when they entered. The two top-floor apartments had been combined into a single four-bedroom residence, and the living room was double normal size, with cream carpet, leather couches, and Ming-style antique rosewood coffee tables. The floor-to-ceiling picture windows overlooked the southern side of Hong Kong Island, with the high-rises of Ap Lei Chau clearly visible in the winter sunlight reflecting off the South China Sea to the outlying islands of Lamma and Cheung Chau beyond.

Simone squealed when she saw that Michael and Clarissa were visiting.

‘We were just leaving—’ Clarissa said, but Simone interrupted her.

‘Don’t go anywhere!’ She quickly turned to Graham. ‘Shoes off here. I’ll be right back.’ She kicked off her shoes and scooted past everybody in the living room to run to her bedroom. She stopped at the door, turned back, and jabbed one finger at Clarissa and Michael. ‘Don’t go anywhere!’ She grabbed the gift from her desk before returning to the living room, where a bemused Emma was presenting Graham with a pair of guest slippers, and he was awkwardly putting them on.

Simone stopped in front of Clarissa, Michael’s wife. She was of American–Chinese extraction, with her black hair cut shoulder-length to frame her kind face. Her skin was transparent, with the blue veins beneath clearly visible, and her pregnancy was nearly at term, making her fragile appearance seem even more frail. She leaned on two long-term crutches when she stood, her withered forearms nestled in cups that held her arms from elbows to wrists. Her hands were twisted claws that gripped the braces of the crutches.

Michael looked in his mid-thirties, to match Clarissa, but as a Taoist Immortal, his appearance was by choice. He was half-Chinese, half-White American, and his father was the White Tiger God of the West, the god of metal and autumn, and Michael’s shining platinum-blond hair was held in a short ponytail. He wore grey suit slacks and a shirt with a bright yellow sweater over it, inherently drawn to his father’s white-and-gold livery. His stunningly good-looking face was a combination of his gorgeous American mother and the Celestial nature of his father.

Simone held the gift out towards Clarissa, who turned to Michael and handed one of the crutches to him. He helped her ease her ungainly, heavily pregnant body to the couch, and she gleefully tore at the gift wrapping, drawing a gasp from Simone’s little brother, Frankie.

‘You’re supposed to wait until you’re home,’ Frankie, said breathlessly.

‘Not in the West,’ Clarissa said, smiling at him. ‘And I think Simone wants to see my face when I open it.’

Simone nodded agreement.

Michael helped Clarissa open the gift, attentively sitting next to her on the couch and taking the shredded pieces of wrapping paper as she clumsily worked on it. She freed the felted teddy bear from the wrapping and held it up with a huge smile, then glanced at Simone. ‘Did you make this?’

Simone sat on the couch next to Clarissa. ‘I did! It’s from one of those Japanese craft kits, but I made it all myself and poured all my love for you into it.’ She put her hand on Clarissa’s where she held the toy. ‘Because I want everything to be perfect for you and baby, and I can’t wait to be the best Aunty Simone ever.’

‘I love it, and the baby will as well,’ Clarissa said, and put her arms out. Simone clumsily hugged her from beside her on the couch, working her way around Clarissa’s swollen belly. They pulled back, and Simone took Clarissa’s hand.

‘I’m always here for you, okay? Anything you need, I’m there. Just get Michael to call me, and I’ll be there in an instant.’

Clarissa looked from Simone to Michael to the rest of the family, who were standing around with indulgent smiles—except for Frankie, who was hopping from foot to foot, obviously hungry, and Graham, who looked both anxious and confused. ‘Marrying into this family was the best thing I ever did in my life.’ Michael’s face fell, and she put her hand on his. ‘Even after everything. I wouldn’t change a thing.’

She passed the little teddy to Michael, and he handed her the crutch and helped her stand again.

‘We were just filling Emma in on the final details for the hospital and delivery, and Clarissa’s mother is arriving tomorrow to help,’ Michael said. He turned and shook Graham’s hand. ‘Sorry to turn up like this while you’re being put on the spot. I know how important these first family meetings are—especially with a family as strange as this one.’

‘They don’t seem that strange, it’s been pretty normal so far,’ Graham said.

‘Oh no,’ Clarissa said under her breath, her expression full of realisation that Graham didn’t yet know who they really were.

‘We’re not strange. Come on,’ Emma said cheerfully. ‘A little bit of weird here and there is a good thing.’

‘Yeah, like you showed me a room full of tigers the first day I visited this weirdness,’ Clarissa said, and everybody laughed.

Graham was beginning to look thoroughly confused and more than a little concerned. Simone stood and linked her arm in his to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything later. Right now, I want you to meet the family, and see how loving and supportive everybody is.’ She didn’t add, ‘Before I toss you into the tiger-filled weirdness.’

Michael guided Clarissa towards the door, helped her with her shoes, and left with many cheerful waves and promises to bring the baby to visit.

‘Now,’ Emma said, clasping her hands. ‘Dinner time, and let’s try to be welcoming to poor Graham.’ She gestured towards the dining room. ‘This way, and I promise, no tigers.’

Simone followed everyone to the dining room and Emma smiled as Graham and Simone sat at the table next to each other, Graham stiff and awkward. The dining room had her father’s graceful ink paintings of sea creatures in frames on the wall, and a side table held an open scroll under glass: the original manuscript of the classic, Journey to the West . Emma had salvaged it from a corner of Xuan Wu’s messy office and put it on display ‘where it belonged’.

I remember doing this to my family , Emma said. When I told them the whole thing, it freaked them out completely. It’s a good idea not to reveal anything too wild at this early stage.

Simone glared at Emma without speaking—talking telepathically was so rude —then sat straighter and gestured over the bowls and chopsticks to the lazy Susan in the middle of the ten-seater, round rosewood table. ‘Family style, you’re familiar with that, right?’

‘No problem,’ Graham said. ‘It’s the way we eat at home half of the time.’

‘Okay, introductions,’ Simone said. ‘This is my dad, John Chen Wu.’

Simone’s father nodded, studying Graham with his dark eyes. Xuan Wu, the Dark Lord of the Northern Heavens, had taken a mid-sixties human form, with his usual black hair worn long at the back and tied on top, in traditional style. He was wearing his standard at-home uniform of a scruffy faded black T-shirt and a pair of cotton martial arts pants—his ‘hobo’ uniform.

‘My adopted mother, Emma Donahoe-Chen. Technically she’s my stepmother, but I call her Mum.’

‘Mrs Donahoe-Chen,’ Graham said, carefully respectful.

Emma nodded back, with a smile that lit up her face every time Simone called her ‘Mum’. She was in her usual late-fifties form, a White Australian with bright blue eyes, wearing a scruffy sweater and jeans. Her greying, mid-brown hair was in a messy bun that wanted to escape and go everywhere.

Simone gestured towards Frankie, who sat between Simone and her father. ‘This is my little brother, Frankie. He’s twelve.’

‘Hi Graham,’ Frankie said in a sing-song voice. He changed to a childish whine. ‘Can we eat now ? I’m starving!’

‘Food’s on its way,’ Emma said.

‘So how did you and Simone meet?’ Xuan Wu asked Graham.

‘We were in the same honours year cohort,’ Graham said. ‘I’m a microbiologist, so I’m in the third-floor labs, Simone is marine so she’s on the seventh—’

‘We kept running into each other at the coffee shop next to the biology building and complaining about university politics,’ Simone said.

‘Is that why you stopped coming home and moaning to us about it?’ Emma asked.

Graham shot a grin at Simone. ‘Glad I could help.’

Frankie piped up. ‘What martial arts do you do?’ he asked Graham. ‘Which style?’

‘What? None. No martial arts, I know Simone does it, because she showed me and she’s really good, but me, no. Why?’ Graham asked, obviously confused.

‘Good,’ Emma said firmly. ‘John will show absolutely no interest in you and will keep himself to himself.’

Simone’s father opened his mouth and closed it again, then smiled. ‘Promise.’

Simone nodded thanks to her father. She’d asked him to tone down his dark aura of raw power so he wouldn’t scare Graham away, and her father was obviously making an effort. She appreciated it.

Graham was completely bewildered, and Simone was ready to paper over the whole martial arts business when Er Hao brought in the first vegetarian dishes, and everybody was distracted putting bowls on the lazy Susan and serving rice.

‘This is Er Hao,’ Simone said. Er Hao appeared to be a Chinese woman in her mid-forties, wearing the traditional servant’s black-and-white uniform from a time before the import of Filipina and Indonesian domestic helpers became more common. ‘She and her sister Yi Hao look after the family, and they’re really part of it.’

Er Hao smiled, making dimples appear in her cheeks. ‘Thank you, Miss Simone.’

‘Number One and Number Two?’ Graham asked. ‘They’re people, not numbers.’

‘Madam Emma rescued us from an abusive situation,’ Er Hao said with pride. ‘We are honoured to serve as her Numbers One and Two.’ She hesitated, then spoke carefully as she recited from memory. ‘It’s a traditional Chinese thing, and we’re happy to work here.’ She leaned in to speak to Graham in a stage whisper. ‘You can offer to help me escape later if you like. One of Simone’s friends from university did that and was shocked when I said I am happy here.’

‘It’s true,’ Simone said. ‘It really is an old-fashioned Chinese thing, and they won’t have it any other way.’

‘Truly part of the family,’ Emma said, nodding to Er Hao, who smiled around the table and returned to the kitchen. ‘So, pass me your bowls and I’ll give you some soup.’ She lifted the lid of the tureen to reveal a hollowed-out winter melon holding the fragrant broth. ‘It’s winter melon and straw mushroom. Are you allergic to anything or do you have any sensitivities, Graham?’

‘I’m lactose intolerant, but Simone said that wouldn’t be an issue. All of you are vegetarian, which is great, because I am as well.’

‘You will fit right in,’ Emma said with satisfaction. ‘Now tell us all about the microbiology. It sounds fascinating. What’s your specialty?’

‘Local yeasts!’ Graham said, lighting up, and Simone smiled as he relaxed into his favourite topic.

*

A fter dinner, Simone took Graham past Emma’s tidy office and the training room—without opening the training room door—and showed him to her room. He stopped just inside and whistled. ‘No wonder you don’t want to live in the dorms. A bedroom and your own little living room? This is like a hotel suite—except nicer.’ He glanced at the reverse-cycle air conditioner. ‘We have to put money on a card to pay for the electricity to run our air con. This is luxury!’

‘If you need help with the cost—’ she began, but he interrupted her.

‘I have a scholarship and I am doing this myself. I will not take money from you. Ever.’ He saw the window. ‘Damn. Look at that view!’

‘Come and see,’ she said, going further into the bedroom with its double bed and showing him the view over the northern side of Hong Kong Island. The busy harbour traffic shimmered over the water beneath the neon lights shining from the packed high-rise apartment buildings. Christmas decorations had already been strung up on the hotels across the harbour, highlighting brilliantly coloured images of Santa and reindeer that would be converted to the God of Fortune when Chinese New Year came around.

‘I can see the student quarters,’ he said. ‘Next time I’m in my dorm, I’ll look up this way and try to recognise this building. I wonder if I can see it.’

‘You should be able to,’ Simone said. ‘Uh ... I worked out which room is yours. It’s in the second tower on the eighteenth floor.’ She pointed, then lowered her voice. ‘Sometimes I imagine you’re in there, and it’s like I’m with you.’

He smiled down at her. ‘That’s brilliant. I’ll be able to look up here and imagine I’m with you.’

She wasn’t aware of how it happened, but a moment later, they were in each other’s arms and kissing, and it felt wonderful. She lost herself in the feeling of being so cherished by someone who adored her and fell in love with him all over again. She felt him harden against her, and her body responded with urgent need for him. She so wanted to put her hand inside his pants and feel—

Someone coughed outside her room, and they quickly split apart.

‘Uh ...’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘Bathroom?’

She pointed at the door halfway down the side of her suite. ‘Just in there.’

He slid the door open and stopped again. ‘You have your own ensuite ?’

‘Everybody does,’ Simone said.

‘This place is amazing,’ he said, slid the door closed and locked it.

Simone tried not to listen—the door was thin—and unpacked her bag. She moved the red box with the Jade Emperor’s stupid Edict to one side and put her laptop on her desk. Fortunately, she didn’t need to hide the elaborately carved Edict box as ordinary mortals couldn’t see it. She smiled at the thought of sharing an ordinary life with an ordinary mortal, and only having to deal with ordinary issues that were never life-and-death or full of horror and pain.

Since absorbing the essence of the previous Demon King to end the war and save the Heavens, she was sure she was no longer an Immortal. The prospect of growing old with someone she loved—instead of watching them age and die—was reassuring. What Michael and Clarissa had was so precious and joyful that she couldn’t help but wish for something like that for herself. Maybe she could have a life like that with Graham. Her smile widened at the idea of a low-stress, love-filled, refreshingly ordinary future with him.

She opened her email and sighed at the number of messages—most of them were university administrative spam, but some were from her Celestial friends. She flipped through them and deleted all the ones that had the subject line of ‘The Jade Emperor Hereby Orders the Princess Simone to Use Her Unique Status to Destroy a Demon’ from a variety of senior Celestials. As soon as she had time, she’d add a spam filter for this Jade Emperor nonsense—and maybe ask Emma or her father to speak to him about cutting it out. It bordered on harassment.

Graham came out of the bathroom, and she nearly closed the laptop so he couldn’t see the emails from the Celestials, then realised what that would look like, changed her mind, and left it open. ‘So, what do you think of my family?’

He sat on the couch across from her little television. ‘Your father was quiet, but he didn’t seem to hate me, which is good. Your mother—’

‘Stepmother,’ Simone said. ‘My mother died when I was little, remember?’

‘Oh yeah, sorry,’ he said, then moaned quietly. ‘I should have remembered, that’s really important to you, and—’

She waved her hands in front of her. ‘No, it’s okay, I don’t mind. I do call her “Mum” sometimes, and she loves it. What about her?’

‘She’s so down-to-earth! Just so normal. And her Aussie accent is charming.’

‘Good. Don’t worry about Frankie, he’s a little weirdo.’

‘Is he on the spectrum?’

She stopped at the question, because it was a good excuse for Frankie’s strangeness. She went with the family’s established story. ‘He’s developmentally delayed. Sometimes he sounds twelve, other times he’s like a five-year-old.’ She wiped her hand over her forehead. ‘He was kidnapped and abused by some gangsters when he was small. Emma and Dad paid the ransom and got him back, but he’ll have issues for the rest of his life.’

‘Abused? Really? What ...?’ Graham shook his head. ‘No, don’t tell me. That’s awful.’

‘I think it says something about the therapy he’s been receiving that he’s coming along so well,’ Simone said. ‘We sincerely hope that when he reaches adulthood, he’ll be able to fully function as an independent adult.’

‘The support of his family—and you—probably makes a difference as well,’ Graham said, with a goofy smile full of affection. He rose. ‘I have to be out early tomorrow, but what do you think the verdict is? Do they approve?’

‘One hundred per cent,’ she said. ‘I’m sure they adore you. Frankie cannot wait to make your life a living hell. I think he has a notebook full of plans to “annoy Simone’s boring boyfriend”.’

He took her hand and pulled her up for a quick kiss. ‘They seem lovely. So supportive of each other, you know?’ His goofy smile deepened. ‘Steamboat tomorrow night? Just you and me?’

She embraced him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘It’s a date.’ She pulled back to smile at him, and her heart melted at his besotted expression. ‘Come and we’ll call a taxi for you, and I’ll show you out.’

‘Do I need to say good night to your parents? Show them respect before I leave? I think I should, your dad seems quite traditional Chinese.’

Simone giggled. ‘They’ll be in their respective offices, doing some late-night crisis-wrangling. Wait until you see this. ’