Chapter 12 Cats Are Bastards
CATS ARE BASTARDS
Mercy bent over the cold body in that dim light, breath coming in hard and sharp.
Definitely Cobra Lily. Mercy could pick her boss out of a crowd of thousands, could—if required—home in on that triangular face. The tattoos seemed heavy and dark against the unexpected pallor of her skin. A preservation fu talisman was pinned to her chest, same as the man Mercy had just looked at.
This murder must have occurred the night before, she decided. Perhaps the ghost had come to Cobra Lily’s quarters in the Walled City, through the connected waterways. From there, it would be a simple task for such a creature to drown the triad leader.
That explained the triad enforcers coming to Erika’s house in the night. Cobra Lily hadn’t suddenly changed her opinion of Mercy’s usefulness. Rather, someone else—or something else—had taken over Cobra Lily.
And Kit Ling was definitely working with this ghost, in some capacity. Mercy wondered how the councilwoman was controlling something so powerful—if indeed she was. Maybe it was controlling her, or maybe it had gotten out of control.
Mercy lifted one of the hands, unable to stop herself. Long fingers and a narrow wrist, resting in her palm. The arm sat limply in her grasp. With her knife, she gently prodded the corpse; no response to that either. She hadn’t been expecting one.
You’ll have a place to live, luxury goods, and you’ll never be hungry again. What do you say, little ghost talker?
Working for a triad hadn’t always been easy, despite the money and prestige.
The job had been a challenge, both in learning to deal with ghosts and in navigating the triad queen’s wild mood swings and fragile ego.
Then there’d been the whole business with the name change: Cobra Lily had insisted she take an English name, for “prestige.”
But Mercy didn’t hold a grudge. She’d known what she was signing up for and been fine with it. Ultimately, she had never wanted or expected an easy life, only an interesting one, and Cobra Lily had always given her that.
She would miss the violent old bat.
“I am sorry,” she said to Cobra Lily’s shell, wishing she knew the woman’s full name. Her boss had been a complicated woman; both a benefactor and a bully, both a social reformer and a volatile criminal.
Mercy gave herself a shake, replaced the tarp gently, and stepped back. She had to get out of here. Had to tell someone.
Only, there was truly no one to tell. The ghost was working with Kit Ling in some capacity, and either was controlled by her, or was controlling her. It could appear as a swathe of different people; no one was safe.
Who, exactly, was Mercy going to inform other than Erika—someone nearly as powerless as herself?
Theoretically, she could tell the triad.
But the idea of rounding up triad members and informing them that their leader was now a supernatural creature inhabiting different skins made her insides clench.
No one would believe her tale, not without significant proof, and that would involve openly storming the premises and bringing people down here.
Dragging a body up with her would not be enough, because you could get bodies from anywhere.
Assuming anyone in the triad did believe her, Mercy was not sure they would care.
Cobra Lily was seen as powerful, regarded almost as a force of nature.
The revelation that she was even more powerful than everyone had first thought would not necessarily have the effect Mercy was hoping for.
A handful of skins in a secret room was unlikely to deter those loyal to her.
Cobra Lily had buried her share of corpses over the years.
Maybe Mercy should just walk away. There was still time to go back up those stairs, out the side door, and flee.
Meet up with Bao and Erika, get the hell out.
She could catch a plane or boat or train, anything, and be on the other side of the world as Erika had suggested.
Sometimes a fight was bigger than you could handle.
And yet.
Mercy stared down at the inert body, beneath its covering. Around her, the cavern echoed with lapping water. Spillage leaked from ceiling grates. Machinery clanked occasionally. The bodies, who should have been alive, were the stillest thing in the room.
She couldn’t do it. If she simply left, Kowloon would certainly be slated for demolition.
This ghost was working toward destroying the city she had known and loved for years.
Kowloon was her world, the one constant in a life full of upheaval and change.
Mercy did not know who she would even be without it.
Mercy willed her mind to focus, to hold itself sharp and taut amidst the chaos that clouded her head. Get out of this building first, then take the triad-warded streets to the city limits. Once she was out in wider Hong Kong, she could have options.
“I see you got my message.”
Mercy spun round, her heart skipping beats.
Red Bird stood framed in the entryway, still wearing heels and fake jewelry. Or rather, her body stood there, inhabited by something else; the real woman’s soul was still trapped in a basin upstairs.
“What message?” Mercy asked, shakily.
The tiniest of frowns crossed those pretty features. “The girl. The water fetcher. I sent her to give you a message, and she ended up destroyed. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“The demon,” Mercy managed. In among so many other strange things happening, she had briefly forgotten about the dead kid. “You’re the demon she mentioned. The one who killed her, and made her into a ghost.”
Red Bird giggled. “Guilty.”
“Got a name, then?” She needed to keep this thing talking, and distracted, for as long as possible.
“Of sorts. They used to call me the Girl with a Thousand Faces.” The thing that was and wasn’t Red Bird offered a shrug. “You may call me that as well.”
“Why not. Seems appropriate for a monster who collects bodies like a rich lady collects shoes,” Mercy retorted.
The other “woman” only laughed. “Do you not like my skin room? I worked hard at building it, you know.” It paused, lips curving in a cruel smile.
“Kit Ling had no idea how useful this property was when she bought the place. She only wanted the land for her own corrupt, monetary gain. But I discovered the phoenix sister used to store her drug supply down here, and adapted it for my own needs.”
“So happy for you,” Mercy said, coldly. What did it want, a fucking trophy for being creative? “Who or what are you? What the hell is going on?”
“Both are complicated questions, with complicated answers. Would you like to guess?”
“You killed Cobra Lily.” Mercy’s fingers crept toward the knife on her belt.
Some ghosts liked to talk, some didn’t. This one seemed like a talker, which was good. Gave her time to prepare.
“It was a busy night,” said the Girl with a Thousand Faces, stretching languorously. “First, I had to walk through the storm drain tunnels as a spirit, just to get past fu talismans and guards so that I could drown your little triad leader in her own bath.”
Mercy flinched.
“When Cobra Lily was dead, I brought her body here, for safekeeping.” It paused to smile, thinly. “Very soon, Kit Ling will turn up as a corpse, in Cobra Lily’s house. In fact, it has already happened.”
“Kit Ling will … what?” It took Mercy a whole thirty seconds to work through that realization, accompanied by a rising sense of anxiety. “Wait, aren’t you working for her?”
Thousand-Faced Girl laughed. “How funny you are! Of course not. I work for no one, little exorcist. Kit Ling is merely one of my skins, albeit very useful.” Its head tilted sideways, eyes narrowing. “You didn’t expect that, did you? Another thing you didn’t think of.”
Kit Ling was dead. Kit Ling was dead. All along, Mercy had been dealing with a puppet, with a demon looking out at her from dead eyes. This thing was in perfect control. It had played her like a lute from the very beginning.
“What was the point?” Inwardly, she was tense as a laundry line. All her nerves were screaming at her to run, run, run except there was nowhere to go. “All that murder, that complex chess playing, for what?”
“I have my own plans.” Thousand-Faced Girl smiled even wider. “You don’t need to know them. Not yet.”
“Again, who the hell are you?” Mercy said, ragged. “What is your problem with my city?!”
“Who am I? Oh, there have been so many names, so many faces. Hundreds, maybe thousands.” Thousand-Faced Girl tilted her chin up, hands on hips. “I am beautiful or plain, young or old, male or female. I am everyone, and no one, all at once.”
A wave of revulsion rose up in Mercy’s throat. “What you are is a disgusting body thief!”
“Disgusting,” the ghost echoed, tilting its head to one side. “I am no more vile than you, Mercy Chan. Chen Mei Chi. Whatever name you choose to use.”
“We are nothing alike!” She readied herself to throw her knife, angling her body ever so slightly.
“Interesting. Do you still not recognize yourself? Your lost memories … your lost life. Don’t you remember?”
“Why don’t you tell me, since you seem so keen for me to recall,” Mercy retorted, silently willing the ghost to tilt her head up. Just a smidge more.
“I know some part of you still remembers.” The ghost wet its lips with the tip of its tongue.
“The island. The girl by the sea. The temple.” She gestured widely.
“All of this is because of you, Mei Chi. Cobra Lily’s death, my quest to destroy Hong Kong and Kowloon …
it is all connected to you, and what you can’t remember. What you refuse to apologize for!”
“If you want my apology, then ask. You didn’t have to kill people to get my attention.” Mercy let her mouth do the talking, concentrating on lining up the shot. She would only have one chance.