Jade Tiger Read Online Free Page B

man was sitting in Ian's office, he was probably a friend. A friend who was in for a world of pain if they didn't find him before her enemies did.
    Ian took the wrinkled paper, damp from her sweat, and a huge smile erupted on his face.
    "Buckley's interview! The ol' boy looks good; I have to admit it."
    Shan pulled the edge of the paper down and pointed to the faint image of the jade crane.
    "This is how we found the university. Me and the goon from the fight. We got the name of the school, and of your friend. Your pal Buckley is in a lot of danger."
    Ian's eyes darted upstairs, an unconscious look toward the crane, she was sure. He brought them back to the article right away, but his face had paled, his smile gone hiding in the shadows. "Bring me the phone," Ian said quietly. "Please."
    She did, and he dialed a number. "No answer at his house. That's good, right?"
    "Or very bad."
    Ian frowned. "Right. I'll try his mobile." He dialed another number, and they both waited in silence as it rang. And rang. And rang.
    "Bucks?...Yeah, Ian...Where are you?...Nadine? I thought you two ended it...Oh, right. I see." Ian looked at Shan, his left eyebrow raised. She mouthed "not here," and Ian nodded. "Look, Bucks, there's a problem. Can you meet us--meet me--at the Marmoset?...Ten minutes...Yeah, sorry about that. And Daniel," Ian paused, pursed his lips. "It's important ."
    Ian hung up. "He'll meet us."
    "Good," Shan said. "Now all we need is the crane..." A little test. She'd been more than accommodating so far. She could have just taken it.
    Ian stared at her, his deep-set eyes glowing like a cat's in the darkness. "Give me a minute," he said finally. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled up the stairs.
    Shan watched him go, irritated at the pang of concern in her gut and her almost irrepressible urge to help him. She forced herself to pull her eyes away. The magazine article. It lay on the table by the phone. Shan smoothed out the page against the dark, waxed-wood surface, folded it, and slid it back into her pocket.
    This whole thing was getting too complicated. It was supposed to be a quick trip to grab the artifact and fly back to Los Angeles. Now she had the police to deal with, a rogue martial arts master, and not one but two professors to worry about. Her mother would never have gotten herself into this situation. And if she had, she'd know the best way out of it. Shan could only ride the wind for now, and look for the right opportunities.
    Ian hobbled back down the stairs looking more determined than wounded. Adrenaline, probably. Or maybe loyalty to his friend. Whatever it was, Shan appreciated the effect it had on his features--the angles seemed more majestic. Ian seemed to have as many facets in his personality as he carried on his face.
    Shan, on the other hand, considered herself a one-note personality. Driven . The tiger spirit and her parent's legacy made sure of that.
    Ian met her by the sofa. "I've got it," he said quietly, patting the worn leather messenger bag draped around his neck to hang at his side. "We can go."
    Shan raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "I'll need directions. You up for that?"
    "What, you think you're driving?" Ian grinned.
    "Hm," said Shan. "Concussion. History of passing out and hallucinating about past loves. Car and keys several miles away." She nodded. "You should definitely drive."
    "I knew you'd see it my way."
    They walked out to Shan's rental car in silence. Shan unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Ian. He grinned and folded his tall frame into her sub-compact. She took another look at his messenger bag, another look at his head wound, then closed the door firmly behind him.
    She drove five miles above the speed limit, just like a normal person. Ian stayed awake this time, gave her coherent directions. Shan turned onto a street lined with bars and markets and coffee shops, many of which were still open at two thirty in the morning.
    "Nice cat," Shan said.
    "Hm? Oh, you mean