Juliette’s grip tightened. The pistol in her hand trembled.
“I don’t know where he is!” Rosalind spat, increasingly agitated. “He used to base his operations from an apartment on Avenue Joffre—the one he took over from Paul’s people—but he moved. He wouldn’t risk it with the French Concession so carefully watched after the takeover. He is out of my reach!”
“Forgive me,” Juliette said, “if I don’t believe you.”
Her hand stilled. In her head, she counted to three, just to afford her cousin one last chance.
But when she reached three, it was not her gun that deafened the safe house with sound. It was the door, shuddering with explosive effort—once, twice, and then before Juliette and Roma could dart for it and hold it closed, it had blown open, halting the two in their tracks.
Juliette’s pistol was still raised when General Shu came in, followed by so many soldiers that half of them were forced to remain outside, lest the apartment overspill.
“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 just take him!”
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 telling me this,” 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 was I 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 it ever had 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.