Page 33 of Caution to the Wind

Which was why I was in the basement of the Golden Door Inn in Calgary’s small Chinatown sucking on the end of a cigarette as if I enjoyed the acrid taste while I waited to meet with Kang Li.

After months of networking, starting with Brian, the dead-beat ecstasy and cocaine peddler at school, then to his hook-up Paul Yang, I was finally meeting the head of their youth gang boss, Ashes Li, who would eventually determine if we were worthy of moving from “Blue Lanterns” (the uninitiated members) to 49ers (initiated members) who were trusted foot soldiers for Seven Song. Until that day, we were merelyleng jai, “little kids” with weapons and drugs in our pockets.

Chinese gangs had a different structure than most.

Adult gangs were often fed by youth gangs, kids who peddled in drug dealing, larceny, and the occasional violence with rivals over territory. If the kids didn’t get torn up by the drugs, imprisoned for the thievery, or killed in the turf wars, they were given the opportunity to earn real money as a soldier in the triad. It gave the triads a group of easy scapegoats and also allowed them to indoctrinate kids early.

I was seventeen years old and a girl, so I couldn’t get to the Seven Song triad to find out who exactly had put the hit on and then executed Kate. But I could get my foot in the door with the Centre Street Crowd.

“He’s late,” Paul complained where he lounged on a red chair with his feet up on the table. It was a disrespectful thing to do in an establishment that wasn’t his, but I had a feeling Paul was in the gang because he liked to flex his power over any and everything he could.

“He’s ourdai lo,” Brian corrected from across the table. “He arrives exactly on time.”

I rolled my eyes, but only because the two idiots couldn’t see me.

Thedai lowas a term for “big brother,” which meant, in this case, the boss.

“Ashes” Li, nicknamed for his prolific heroin drug dealing, was the only link between the Centre Street Crowd gang and the Seven Song triad. His older brother, Kang Li, was the Red Pole enforcer for the triad and rumoured to be best friends with the youngest Kuan brother. He was my golden ticket.

Brian rolled his head to pin me with his dark eyes. “You know, you want into this shit, you gotta get serious, Mei.”

“Do I look anything but?” I questioned sharply, eyebrow raised over my glare.

He looked away quickly because he was a sheep. “No, but serious means getting your hands dirty. You ready for that? I know you say you don’t give a shit about your family’s reputation.” He hesitated, a moment of silence for my sacrilege. “But dealing is dangerous work. You could get sent to juvie.”

If Brian hadn’t been arrested for his antics yet, I doubted I would be. He wasn’t exactly a rocket scientist. But I understood his concern. For Brian, dealing was a necessity. His single mum worked at a local restaurant, but she was also on disability, and they needed the extra cash. He wasn’t a natural badass, so he couldn’t understand why rich little me would want to engage in illicit activity.

“You let me worry about that,” I told him. “I can handle myself.”

“Is that right?” a new voice said from the doorway.

My head snapped toward the sound, and I gasped a little, unable to help myself. Because it wasn’t just Ashes Li and Kang Li in the doorway.

Jiang Kuan stood there, too.

I knew him instantly. Most people in the criminal community or the business community knew of the twenty-three-year-old and thirty-three-year-old brothers who’d moved to Canada when Jiang was merely a child and amassed their own empire. His brother wastheDragon Head of the Seven Song triad in Alberta. The boss. The man who signed your promotion checks or death warrants.

Jiang was his weapon and right-hand man, a position known as the Vanguard.

There was a famous story about how he’d used a chopstick to impale a rival gangster’s temple in the middle of a Chinese New Year celebration when Jiang was just twelve years old.

A shiver stabbed like ice picks into my spine.

Not just because he was dangerous but because, shockingly, he was gorgeous.

Tall and leanly muscled with cut glass cheekbones and fine, almost delicate features, he could have been a pop star or an actor. Instead, he was a criminal overlord, his expensive finery punctuated by the bulk of a gun strapped beneath his arm and a watermelon chopper knife affixed to his belt.

Too late, I remembered myself and realized he’d asked me a question. I got to my feet and sent him a little bow of respect before tipping my chin up and offering, “Yes, I can.”

He peered at me, blank-faced, while Ashes smirked as he lit a cigarette and took a slouching repose on a stool at the bar. Kang Li didn’t move an inch from Jiang’s back, a living shadow.

“Sorry about her,” Brian hastened to say, standing so abruptly his chair scraped and screeched across the floor. “Her father is white.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Being half Chinese didn’t make me any less aware of the traditions and culture of my mother’s people. I wasn’t being rude, I was being confident, and there was a significant difference between the two. I just had to hope that the revered Jiang Kuan knew that too.

He peered at me for a moment, completely ignoring Brian. I wanted to fidget under his unnerving gaze, but I held meticulously still and let him look his fill.

Finally, he blinked, shattering the strange hold he had over me. I frowned as he slid out of his jacket and unfastened his cuff links.