Chapter Two
The Box
The phone rang, shrill in the pre-opening stillness of the shop. Count D walked over and picked it up, lifting it slowly to his ear. He hadn't been expecting any callers this early in the morning. "Hello? Count D's Pet Shop."
There was a pause, then D said, "Oh, it's you…" in a voice that was carefully neutral. "Have you been able to procure on of them for me?" Erika Hunter, Count D's new assistant, paused, the broom she had been using to sweep the floor of the shop pausing for a few moments as her dark grey eyes fixed on the back of D's head. She could see his fingers tightening around the phone as he listened to his caller's reply. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. He was obviously not happy – his expression had entered the Realm of the Marginally Depressed. "That's very kind of you, but I can't pick it up now… I have business here in Los Angeles that I just can't afford to leave unattended."
Another pause.
"Tomorrow?" said D in a voice that could only be described as whiny. He looked depressed to the point of miserable suicide. "But I can't go tomorrow. How am I supposed to get passage to New York in less than a day? Couldn't you just hold onto it for me until…Oh. I see. Well, I'll try… Thank you." D put down the phone, staring down at it in quiet despair.
"D? Whatever is the matter?" Erika asked, reaching out and touching his shoulder lightly. He looked so sad… D turned his head and managed a smile for her. "It's nothing," he said, his voice soft. "Something – a box – has arrived for me in New York, that's all… And there's no way to get it here to Los Angeles."
Erika couldn't help herself. She laughed. With a brilliant smile, she said to the mildly stunned D, "Oh, is that all? There is absolutely no need to concern yourself, my dear Count. I'm going to New York City this weekend myself, to see my father, remember? That's why I asked you for time off. So if you would just be so kind as to give me the address from which I should pick up your box, I'd be happy to get it for you –" The rest of her little speech was cut off as D grabbed her, hugging her hard as frenzied words of thanks poured from his lips. The box in New York obviously meant a lot to him.
Erika blushed and wished that he hadn't done that. It was getting harder every day to hide her stupid little crush on D and him touching her was really the last straw – she felt like she was going to melt into a little puddle of Erika fluid upon the floor. "D…" she managed to gasp. "D, get off." All her usual articulacy had fled her; she was stumbling over her words and blushing dark red.
D didn't let her go, but he did pull back, an arm around her waist, and smiled at her. "Thank you, Erika," he said and lifted her chin with one long finger. Then he kissed her delicately on the cheek.
Erika concentrated on not letting her head implode.
The next day, Erika climbed off a plane and looked tiredly around an airport for her father. He was standing a few metres away from her, flirting with some woman Erika didn't recognise, looking his usual suave self as he laughed and joked with the beautiful brunette. Neither of them had noticed the teenager yet. Erika paused, examining him and his companion with a critical eye.
It looked as though the two of them had just come from a dinner party – they both wore formal attire, dresses and dinner jackets. Her father's golden hair was professionally streaked by one of the most expensive hairdressers and his face was the epitome of older male gorgeousness. He was easily six foot, probably more – Erika got her height from her father. The blonde teenager turned her attention to her father's female companion, mentally comparing the woman to her mother.
She was tall, with long, dark brown hair in a complex hairdo that combined ringlets and straightened bits. Her face was exquisite, but colder than Jeff Hunter's ex-wife's, and her eyes were a strange shade of pale violet. Her skin was a perfect cream. She wore a floor-length, low cut violet dress to match her eyes. For some reason, she left Erika with the feeling that there were leeches climbing over her skin…
As Erika walked towards the two of them, her backpack slung over her shoulder, she reflected on D's last words to her regarding the box she had offered to collect for him.
"Remember, you must be on time. If you are even five minutes late, then my associate will sell the contents of the box on to someone else. That's the kind of man he is, don't hold it against him. Now, just go to this address in the New York Chinatown at precisely twelve o'clock at night, not a minute before, not a minute after, knock once, and tell whoever answers the door that D sent you. Show them this." He gave her a pendant on a thin silver chain. It was a Chinese symbol carved out of jet. Erika didn't recognise the character. "I've already phoned ahead to tell them you're coming," he continued. "Now listen very carefully. I'm going to give you a description of what the box looks like. I wouldn't put it above them to try and switch the box with another one, to try and trick you. You can't let them do that."
"Should I open the box and check its contents?" Erika had asked.
"No! Whatever you do, don't open that box. It could be dangerous for you. I'm not sure that I should actually send you on this little quest. You could be in danger just by accepting the box…" D had frowned looking worried as he had his seconds thoughts.
Erika had just rolled her eyes. "Be calm, Count D. I'll be fine. Although it would be nice to know what I'm actually putting myself in danger for…"
"I'll tell you when you get back."
"Very helpful, D."
"I try. Now, about the box…"
Erika smiled at the memory, reaching into her pocket and checking that she still had the square of parchment upon which D had written the address of a shop in Chinatown in his swirly, looping handwriting. If she had had a normal father, then getting the parental blessings on going out at midnight in a strange city might have been a little difficult, but this was Jeffery Hunter. He'd probably offer to lend her his car, so she wouldn't have to pay for a taxi… Erika rolled her eyes at the thought and reached out to tap her father on the shoulder. He turned, a bright smile spreading across her face at the sight of his daughter. Erika somehow summoned a smile in response, trying to simulate proper daughterly feeling as her traitorous mind wished that this moment was just over.
Hours later, Erika lay still in warm bathwater, her eyes closed and her blonde hair spread out across the water. Frothy foam covered the top of the water, hiding her body completely. She was dwelling on her father's new 'partner', Bethany Hope, the beautiful brunette. Her father had introduced the two of them and it had been hate at first sight. Bethany did not like Erika's attitude problem. Erika did not like Bethany's view on life, seeing her as shallow, frivolous and calculating. The woman was manipulating.
Speak of the devil…
Bethany opened the bathroom door and glided into the room, standing next to the bath as Erika slowly opened her eyes and fixed her with an inquiring look. "Have you ever heard of the word 'privacy'?" the teenager asked quietly. Bethany gave a brittle, so-fake smile. "And Jeff's and my privacy is exactly what you intruded when you asked to come stay for a weekend," she returned, her voice dripping poisoned honey. Erika suppressed the urge to climb out of her bath and strangle the woman. "I don't believe it's a crime to visit my father for the first time in nearly a year," she said in as even a voice as she could manage.
"You could have given us more warning."
"What is it that you want, Ms Hope? I'll be gone this time tomorrow."
"Why are you going to Chinatown at midnight?"
"What business of it is yours?" Erika asked her bluntly.
"I am your father's fiancée!" Bethany exploded, presenting Erika with her hand, upon which was an impressive amethyst engagement ring. Erika felt her heart go thump, horror clouding her mind, but she forced her face into staying blank. Didn't either of her parents have any taste in partners?? "Congratulations," she said calmly. "Couldn't you have given me this information when I wasn't in the bath? When I was fully clothed, perhaps?"
Bethany bit her lip, angry that she'd let her temper get the best of her. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that," she muttered. "Don't tell your father that I told you, please. He's planning to make it a surprise at lunch tomorrow..."
"And just what is my silence worth to you?" Erika asked mildly.
"What?"
"Stop asking questions about my business in Chinatown, if you please. And if you wouldn't mind getting out of the bathroom, I'd love to get out of this bath. I'm getting cold and I have a lot of preparing to do before I'm able to go."
Bethany stalked out of the bathroom, semi-slamming the door behind her. Erika climbed out of the bath and dried herself off. She wrapped a towel around herself and walked through from her ensuite into her bedroom. She had a lot to do…
Erika picked out a basic black attire for her little mission – black jeans, t-shirt and jacket. She wore her black leather motorcycle boots, which were brilliant for kicking people with and which she could still run in. She brushed her still wet hair and French braided it, clipping her too-short-to-tie-back fringe to the sides of her head. She didn't want to be blinded by her hair in the middle of running like hell in the opposite direction of her pursuers. After that, she began to accessorise. D had warned her that she might be in danger collecting the box and she wasn't going to just waltz in without any protection whatsoever. On her hands went a pair of fingerless leather gloves which had studs on the knuckles and in her pocket went a thin tube of the most potent cheap perfume she had been able to find, which could be sprayed into assailants faces. It was more effective than Mace. She debated over her last little precaution. If she came up against someone more skilled at knife fighting than her, then her ten inch pocket knife could easily be turned against her. She wasn't sure that she should take something so potentially dangerous with her. Finally she just gave up and slipped the knife into her boot. She wouldn't use it unless there was no other option. She picked up her battered silver cell phone and the piece of parchment that D had given her, tucking both of them into one of her hip pockets. Lastly, she put on the necklace D had given her to identify herself and tucked it under her shirt. It was cool against her skin. She picked up a black shoulder bag she was going to use to carry the box in, then, all her preparations done, she walked downstairs to say goodbye to her father.
"What, no makeup?" Jeff Hunter teased. "I thought you were going out for a night on the town."
Erika smiled. "I'm not, not really, Dad. Just going to pick something up for a friend."
"In the middle of the night?" Bethany said snippily. "Must be a very strange friend." She was standing a few metres away, and, because her husband-to-be's back was turned, she was glaring at Erika with an expression of utter hate. "I can't argue with that," Erika said calmly. "He is quite… odd. But don't worry, I won't get myself into trouble."
Her father laughed. "I'm just happy that Erika's making friends, even if they are odd. Try not to total the Porsche, and don't get arrested or killed. That's all I ask."
That's all you ever ask, Erika thought sadly as she took the keys from him, kissed him goodbye and left the house with promises to do none of the above. All Jeff Hunter wants is that his daughter doesn't do anything that might make her look like a delinquent, and that she never ask him for any money. That's all he's ever wanted…
Some time later, Erika walked along a surprisingly well-lit and populated street, heading towards the shop where her little rendezvous was scheduled. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. Eleven forty-five. She had fifteen minute to find the shop. If she was even just a minute late, then it would all be over. The thought of D's face if she returned to LA empty handed made her heart speed up. She just couldn't do that to him. So she kept walking, checking the infrequent street signs, and asking directions where she could. She hadn't been able to find an accurate map of Chinatown, so she was just working on guesswork and luck. And she was really hoping that it would work.
She got her last set of directions from a wizened old Chinese fortune teller and was relieved to see a shop that looked about right come into view. She checked the time again. Eleven fifty-six. She had time to do a quick survey of the area. She looked around, taking note of any loiterers who might be potential trouble, and looking for escape routes if things did go wrong.
Eleven fifty-nine. She walked to the door and leaned against the wall next to it, holding her phone up next to her, counting silently as she watched the digital number. An unknown Chinese teenage girl shoved her way away from her own wall and walked towards Erika. Erika watched her warily. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one… "You here for the Egg?" the girl demanded in a hard whisper. Erika didn't reply. The Chinese girl was pretty, with beautiful slanted eyes and broad cheekbones. She was tiny, about five foot one, dressed in blue jeans and a big white t-shirt. She looked so New York. Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one…
"Go away," Erika said flatly. "I need to concentrate."
"You'd better get ready to run," the girl advised, moving away. "People want the Egg. They'll stop you…"
Erika rolled her eyes. She could do without the cryptic comments. Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…
Twelve o'clock.
Somewhere in Chinatown, a clock began to chime the hour. Erika could hear it clearly. She shoved her phone back in her pocket, turned and knocked, just once. There was an adrenaline-filled pause and then the door slowly creaked open, revealing a small, wrinkled Chinese man with a shaved head, a long plaited beard and strange pointy ears. He wore a brown robe and he look so much like –
"You look like Yoda," Erika said before her brain caught up with her mouth.
The Chinese man raised one tufted eyebrow. "Is that what you're here to tell me?" he demanded in a deep, sonorous voice. "Ah, no," Erika said. "My apologies. I'm here on D's behalf to collect a box that he says you have for him."
"You have any proof to back that claim up?"
Erika wordlessly pulled the pendant out from under her shirt and showed it to him. He examined it minutely and then finally gave a sniff and straightened. "You're authentic. Wait here." He disappeared back into the shop, slamming the door behind him. Erika stood there silently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her gaze swept the street, looking for threats. She was on edge, alert, ready for anything. She was not going to be caught unawares.
The door opened again and the old man presented Erika with a box, about eighteen inches by about eight inches, seven or eight inches deep. The box was made of dark wood, highly polished and carved with pictures of Chinese dragons. It was padlocked on all four sides of the lid with carved padlocks made of four different kinds of wood, all different shades and colours. Erika wondered the significance of wooden locks, then pushed the query from her mind. All she had to do was get the box to D. She could ask him all the questions she wanted when she got there.
The box matched the description that D had given her in every aspect, so she thanked the old man with all due courtesy and slipped the box into her bag. The Chinese man just closed the door in her face.
Ah, well. You couldn't win them all.
Erika slung the bag across her body, the strap crossing over her chest. It would be more difficult for someone to simply grab the bag off of her now. She mentally checked her precautions again and then headed off back towards her car.
The first she knew that people were following her was when one of them got into an argument with some Chinese lady when she got her little cart type thing stuck across the road, blocking Erika from their sight. Erika smiled slightly and kept walking, neither speeding up nor slowing down. At least she knew where they were now.
She turned abruptly into an alleyway and began to run. If there was one thing that Erika Hunter could do, besides making sarcastic comments, it was run. She darted through alleyways, moving very, very fast and doubled back to her car. It was actually in sight when a tall, shadowy figure stepped out in front of her. She stumbled back with a barely suppressed gasp.
The figure caught her wrist, saying in an irritated, but wonderfully familiar voice, "Erika? What the hell are you doing here?"
Erika was struck dumb for a moment, then she flung herself forward to impulsively hug Leon Orcot, so delighted that he wasn't some creep come to kill her that she hardly knew what she was doing. "Orcot!" she yelped. "It's just you! Thank gods… Come on, I have to get out of here before they catch up."
"Before who catch up…?" Orcot trailed off as he caught sight of the shadowy, black dressed people easing out of the shadows and watching them with hard eyes. They were all clustered into different groups, some Asian, some European. "Let's go," Orcot said in a tired sort of voice. "You can drive me back to my hotel and tell me what the hell is going on. You can explain to me how this is all D's fault." Erika smiled and bowed slightly, gesturing him towards the Porsche. "After you, my dear detective…"
The next day, Erika presented D with the box. He took it with eager hands, and unlocked the wooden padlocks with matching wooden keys, lifting the lid off with an awestruck expression on his face. Erika and Orcot leaned forward with identical questioning expressions which faded into awe. "They're…" Orcot murmured. He frowned. "What are they, D?"
"It's a fire lizard's egg," Count D said in a soft voice. Q-chan fluttered down from his shoulder to perch on the edge of the box. "Kyuu!" he said happily. He peered down at the quietly pulsing golden eggs nestled in the box, one wrapped in blue silk one wrapped in red.
"They're very rare," D continued. "I would have been very lucky to get hold of just one. Getting hold of two was practically a miracle. Fire lizards are like miniature dragons and they are in very popular demand as pets. I would make a wonderful profit if I decided to sell it on… But I'm not going to." He smiled and reached out to run one long finger down the red-silk-wrapped egg's curved surface. It throbbed in response to his touch. "These two will become a breeding pair. I'm going to breed fire lizards…"
Erika grinned, delicately touching the other egg, the one wrapped in blue silk. "Can I help?"
