Page 109 of Our Violent Ends
“Not one step farther,” Juliette demanded. Her eyes darted to the side. In that brief second of eye contact, she and Roma were silently asking each other how the Nationalists had found them and what the Nationalists wanted—but neither had an answer. All that was for sure was they had been found: Juliette Cai and Roma Montagov, colluding together.
But General Shu, as he ignored Juliette and took a step in, was not even looking at them. Nor did he take note of Rosalind in the corner, bound to a chair. With an expression akin to amusement, he merely examined the room, like he was a new tenant searching for a place to rent.
“Put your weapon down, Miss Cai,” General Shu said, finishing his perusal and resting his hands at his belt. There, a vast selection of handguns sat at the ready, dangling from the leather. “I’m not here for you.”
Juliette narrowed her eyes. Her finger twitched on the trigger. “Then why bring so many soldiers?”
“Because”—he signaled for the men behind him—“I heard that my son was alive and well, and I have come to fetch him back.”
At once, the soldiers raised their firearms, pointed at one person in the room.
“Hello, Bàba,” Marshall spat. “You have terrible timing.”
Thirty-Six
Havoc erupted within the safe house.
Roma was shouting, Benedikt was shouting, Kathleen had pressed herself up against the wall, Rosalind was trying to free herself, and Juliette barely managed to get out of the way before the soldiers were surging out the door, Marshall clasped between them in captivity.
“Stop!” Roma bellowed. “You can’t justtakehim!”
He was fast to follow, almost colliding with the building wall before barreling out from the front archway. A beat later, Juliette made to follow him, only Benedikt grabbed her wrist, stopping her midmotion.
“Don’t let Mars get caught in the crossfire,” Benedikt said in one breath. “You protected him once, Juliette. I know you have it in you to look out for him again.”
“No use tellingmethis,” Juliette hissed, grabbing Benedikt’s arm and yanking him out with her. “Help me fix it. Kathleen, watch Rosalind!”
Kathleen’s mouth opened as if to protest, only Juliette was already running out. She surveyed the scene—guns, soldiers,Roma. Marshall had long ceased struggling, but Roma had rooted himself in their path, stubborn until the very end.
The street around them was quiet. Give it some minutes more, however, and this would grow into a scene, gawkers at every corner. It was almost bizarre that Juliette’s first thought wasI can’t be seen with White Flowers. The city had been taken, territory lines had turned as fluid as flowing river water, and yet still the blood feud raged on—as if it had any meaning, as if iteverhad any meaning.
“Does my father know that you are hassling Scarlets?”
General Shu stopped. He turned around. When all his men were forced to halt too, Marshall made a valiant effort to tug himself free, but their hold upon him was iron. No matter how he lunged, there were too many in a small circle holding him in and too many in a larger circle that kept Roma at a distance by the threat of their rifles.
“Does your father know you lie about White Flowers being Scarlets?”
Juliette lifted her chin. At the far side of the soldier cluster, Roma’s head snapped up, trying to catch Juliette’s eye. He made a motion at her, urging her not to stick her neck in, to let him handle it. Fool. If he was sticking his neck in, she was already there too.
“How are you to prove that Marshall Seo is a White Flower?” Juliette asked.
General Shu pulled a revolver from his holster. He did not point it at her, at anyone. He merely examined it, opening and closing the cylinder to check his bullets.
“What would you prefer, Miss Cai?” he said. “The letter he wrote when he ran from me, declaring his intent to survive on his own in Shanghai by joining the White Flowers? News clippings I’ve kept over the years that report him to be the Montagov heir’s right-hand man? I have them all—just give the word.”
Juliette bit down on the inside of her cheeks, throwing Benedikt a glance, hoping he had some idea of their next move.
But Benedikt looked startled beyond description. When General Shu put his revolver back into its holster, the street was quiet enough that Benedikt’s low murmur could be heard very clearly.
“Ranfrom you?”
Marshall grimaced, looking away. He had stopped struggling.
“He never told you?” General Shu asked. “I assume he said that we were all dead, didn’t he?” He looked at Marshall. Now, out in the light, the resemblance appeared. The same face shape, the same lines crinkling at the eyes.
“You are,” Marshall seethed, his voice a sudden crack in the air. He had never before seemed so furious: careless, cheery Marshall, who had never angered once in Juliette’s presence, was now red in the face and shaking, the tendons in his neck standing at attention. “When Umma died and you weren’t home, for all that it mattered,youwere dead to me too.”
General Shu didn’t flinch. If anything, he looked a little bored. He didn’t even seem to be listening.
