Bitter Spirits Part 33

"What's on the table?" she said.

"It's a coffin, my dear."

"An empty one?" The second the words were out of her mouth, something putrid and foul wafted. She recoiled and clapped her hand over her mouth. Something crunched under her shoes: dirt and gravel. A line of it led to the coffin.

Yip chuckled. "You would think someone with your skills would be less wary of the dead. Though, I do forget that your talents are different than mine. Not accustomed to graveyard work, I take it?"

"No," she managed.

"It's not pleasant, I'll admit. But you must remind yourself that it is just a body."

"Whose body?"

"Come closer, and I'll show you."

Another smell hung over the stench of death. "Are those herbs? More of your spellwork?"

He laughed. "No, that's to help with the odor of the body. If I wanted you drugged, I would've already done so. I'm trying to show you something, please."

She stepped closer, giving the coffin a wide berth as she tried not to breathe through her nose.

"Let us be frank," Yip said, wiping his hands on a soiled handkerchief. "I know you have been seeing Mr. Magnusson. I also know you are booked in New Orleans, so I am a.s.suming your time spent with the bootlegger is merely a dalliance."

"It's none of your business, is what it is."

He waved a hand, dismissive. "I don't care about that. What I'd like to talk to you about is a partnership." He tipped his head her way. "All hives have a queen, yes?"

She nearly choked. "What?"

"I don't suggest anything physical. I am referring to a working partnership. An indoctrination into my organization." He held up a hand when she balked. "Now, hear me out. We are cut from a similar cloth, you and I. We both can call spirits from the beyond. My powers are stronger, but you are able to do something I can't, which is to speak to them. I cannot do this, I confess. I can bring them back and command them-and truly, this gives me more power than you."

"Truly," Aida muttered.

"You've seen my results, yes? Mr. Magnusson's murder victims? I think he's been using you to get rid of them."

"It's a fine trick, luring them with the coins and b.u.t.tons," she said.

"I knew it! You can send them back. Is this a skill you've been taught?"

She didn't understand why he was so excited, and she wasn't going to admit that she hadn't been able to send them back-at least not when she tried it on the bloated ghost in the tunnel under the street. "So you basically channel spirits into dead things instead of yourself."

"Yes," Doctor Yip said, throwing his handkerchief aside. "It is one difference between us. I can call them and give them life again. Command them. You can call them into you temporarily. You cannot command them."

"I can send them back."

He smiled at her, as if this was the best news he'd ever received, then cleared his throat. "Yes, yes. And you can speak with them. I cannot. They will follow my commands, but they will not talk to me. And someone with your particular talent might be helpful in obtaining information from the dead. Not this plebeian work you've been doing, but real information from important spirits."

"Why in G.o.d's name would I want to help you with that?"

"I know you are sympathetic to the Chinese people-"

"I'm sympathetic to most people, as long as they aren't trying to kill me."

He made an impatient noise. "What I'm offering is a chance to use your abilities for a greater cause. You will be given a place of honor in this organization."

"And live on a rotting boat like a rat?"

"Live wherever you'd like. I will pay you a salary that will allow you a luxurious lifestyle, if that is important to you."

"Forgive me if I don't believe that. You did try to burn me alive in my old apartment."

He idly brushed the front of his vest. "I was only thinking of you as a problem then. I've been doing a lot of consideration and prayer, and I see now that I was wrong. You're much more useful to me alive."

"That's a comfort."

"You are suspicious. Very smart. And we can talk about this for hours, but you will not be convinced until you can see what I'm capable of. Action will convince you where words fail. And I truly believe that something in you will understand better."

He cracked open the lid of the coffin.

Aida recognized the moment for what it was: an opportunity. She should stab him now, while he was weak, while his goon stood across the room. She could kill him, or injure him badly enough to escape. But how loyal was the big man, Tai? Would he stop her at the door?

Her mind whirled.

"Like speaks to like," Doctor Yip said as he stood the lid open on its hinges. "We are the same, you and I. No one can truly understand who you are like I can."

The stench worsened considerably.

Yip leaned over the open coffin and chanted something she didn't understand several times. "Hay-sun-la, hay-sun-la . . ."

Aida's breath turned white.

She scanned the coffin for a ghost and saw nothing.

Yip's shoulders drooped. His breath wasn't like Aida's-no ghostly fog billowed from his mouth. His breathing was, however, strained. He gulped air like he was drowning and made a crude hacking noise.

Aida's focus splintered when something thudded from inside the coffin.

He'd called something over the veil, her breath told her that. And she expected it to look much like the ghosts he'd sent after Winter.

It didn't.

A decomposing corpse came into view as it sat upright in the coffin. Half bone, half decayed, rotting flesh, it turned its head toward Yip. It was hard to tell if it was male or female, as most of the hair and flesh was missing from the back of its skull. It was wearing clothing, but it was soiled beyond recognition with decomposition, its chest sunken. Shriveled lips remained, sutured closed. The eye sockets were filled with dark sludge.

"You channeled the spirit into the corpse," Aida whispered.

He coughed and placed a hand on his vest, as if to steady his laboring lungs. "Yes. I don't use memento mori, as you say in your show. I use their bones as a beacon." He mumbled incoherent words to the corpse, which promptly lay back down in the coffin. But he didn't send her back over the veil, because Aida's breath was still cold.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Westerners would call her a revenant."

"Animated corpse."

"If I command her to seek a person, she will walk for miles until her legs fall apart-and when that happens, she'll crawl. Her hands will scrabble across dry desert, long after her head has fallen in a ditch. I bound her spirit to her bones, and she can do nothing but obey my commands."

She. That thing was a she.

"Behold," he said with breathless excitement. "This is the kind of power I wield."

Aida stared at the corpse in horror. "Put her to rest, for the love of G.o.d. You've proven your point, and I can't stand the sight of her."

"She is alive now. I can't kill her."

"You've created an immortal creature?"

"I didn't say immortal. She can die again, in a manner of speaking."

"How?"

He inhaled deeply, ignoring her question. "Besides, this girl is special. Today I will pack her up and let her loose on her husband."

Aida held one exhalation of cold breath for several beats.

"Who is her husband?" she finally asked in a small voice.

Yip smiled very slowly.

It can't be-no, no, no . . .

"Take heart," Yip said. "I am not arranging for Mr. Magnusson's death because of his respect for my people. I'm just pushing forward what would naturally occur in the future-Mr. Magnusson has the burden of too much death by his own hand, and his mind is weak like his father's."

Dear lord. Winter wasn't crazy, but Yip was. A very rationalized, polite insanity, but crazy nonetheless. Aida stared at him, both horrified and feeling pity for the man.

Yip gestured toward the coffin. "Now that you've seen my power, what is your decision?"

"If I declined your offer?"

"Do you know how to swim?"

Aida started to shake her head in answer until realization sunk in.

"That is the best way. Your spirit will travel fast-very little chance of it staying here as a ghost if you've drowned in the Bay. And no one will grieve you, which is a small blessing. I will simply send word to your future employer in New Orleans that you've changed your mind, and no one will even know you're gone." He smiled at her as if he were a kindly old lawyer, breaking tough news about a judge's decision.

A loud noise coming from somewhere on the ship made her jump.

Then again. A sharp bang!

The report of a gun.

Doctor Yip blanched. His men carried no guns.

Aida knew someone who did.

More shots were fired in quick succession, and suddenly gunfire reverberated inside the belly of the ship. It sounded like a battlefield lay beyond the walls of the dining room. Not single shots anymore, but the distinct rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns. m.u.f.fled shouting followed. The teardrop crystals in the chandelier clinked; the boards beneath her feet vibrated.

"Tai! Get out there and see what's going on!" Yip yelled at the big man as he rushed to close the casket top.

While he pulled it down, Tai swung both doors open. A shot exploded. The big man stumbled backward. Movement in the dim doorway took the shape of an even bigger man whose arm lashed out to shove Tai. His teetering form crashed to the floor. He did not get up.

The gunman who'd shot Tai stormed into the ship's dining room holding someone else in front of him like a shield, a handgun pressed to the side of his head. When he walked the hostage into the light of the first lantern, Aida, with a start, recognized the man being held at gunpoint.

Ju's thug. The man she'd burned with incense.

The gun fired. Flesh and bone exploded. Ju's thug dropped to the floor.

The gunman kicked him away and stepped into the light.

Splattered in blood, Winter strode into the room like a furious t.i.tan.

Aida cried out in relief, but a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and yanked her sideways. Yip crushed her back to his chest and pinned her there. "Mr. Magnusson," his voice called near her ear as he shoved her forward. "I had plans to visit you at your house later tonight. I have men there watching your sister."

"I know. They're all dead."

"Ah." Yip's grip tightened. "And I see I miscalculated the depth of your allegiance to the spirit medium. Is it really worth d.a.m.ning your soul further to take more innocent lives on this ship?"

"Winter-" Aida started.

Yip slapped his bare hand on her mouth. Ghostly breath, now stoppered there, shifted paths and streamed from her nostrils in quick pants.

"I couldn't care less about her," Winter said.

Aida's chest tightened. Surely he was bluffing.

"Your actions betray you," Yip said.

"She's leaving the city tomorrow. It was a fling. She was giving it up for free-just a skirt, nothing more."

Aida's throat constricted. Anger and hurt welled up in equal parts.

"Then why have you come for her?" the herbalist asked.

"I didn't even know she was here."

It couldn't be true-no! Why did he send the lancet? She struggled to throw Yip off, but he only held her tighter. After huffing several strained breaths near her ear, he snapped at Winter. "You mean to tell me that you brought death into my house-that you're killing my workers-because of a few ghosts I sent your way? I don't believe that."

Winter's face was stone. Lantern light cast shadows over his eyes, making his scar stand out in sharp relief. His mouth was the same immovable grim line he'd worn when she first met him, as if he'd never learned how to smile. "I'm here to look out for my business and take back what you've stolen from my a.s.sociates."

Aida's pulse pounded in her temples as panic shot through her limbs. Did he mean it? Her heart didn't believe it, but her mind pulled at the loose thread of their fight. The way he'd shouted at her. The way he'd ignored her for days before the fight. Maybe he'd only sent the lancet as a token-maybe it was his way of telling her she was on her own.