Free Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) by Rachael Slate Page A

peered over the window ledge, an icy shiver of awareness rippling down her spine. Sheng crooked his fingers at his opponents who both huffed as though out of breath, sweat glistening on their bare chests. Their right shoulders bore the same yin-yang tat as Sheng. Beneath her leather jacket, did Mei sport one too?
    Sheng, on the other hand, appeared cool, like he hadn’t exerted himself in the least.
    “What are they doing?” Mei whispered.
    “Sheng, Fang, and Kassian are fighting. I think Sheng’s winning.”
    “See anything else?”
    Lucy scowled, beyond frustrated everyone kept asking her that.
    The three men below sparred, their strikes knocking each other so fast her eyes had trouble focusing on the individual blows.
    Sheng sprang into a back flip, dodging Fang’s arm as it swiped at him. Damn, he was agile. Back on his feet, he ducked a punch from Kassian and a kick from Fang without hesitation.
    He must have studied his entire life to be that good. She’d never witnessed anyone fight as well as he did. A perfect blend of strength, agility, and grace.
    He seemed to prefer a forward-weighted stance, offensive, and allowing for more aggressive strikes. Although he just as effortlessly fell into a backward-weighted stance, defending himself. If she were being objective, she’d venture he was going easy on his opponents, letting them get in more blows than he handed out. Regardless, his body defaulted to a crouching position.
    Tiger.
    The word floated through her mind, shivering across her skin. Each of the twelve animals in the Chinese Zodiac possessed positive and negative traits believed to define the personality of the people born into that specific year. It wasn’t unusual for a Chinese person to give their Zodiac animal considerable weight, even choosing occupations and relationships based upon the compatibility of their animals. Lucy’s mother had been a Sheep and her father a Horse—an ideal match. Their loving marriage was proof this belief had merit.
    Tiger and Rabbit made suitable matches. Nope, don’t go there.
    Did Sheng truly believe he was a tiger? What about Mei? “Which animal are you?”
    “Monkey.” She smiled, holding out her hand and wiggling her fingers. “Go on. Take my hand. Tell me what you feel.” Being born in the year of the Monkey placed Mei’s age around twenty. Sheng at twenty-six. If Kassian was an Ox and Fang a Rat, that made them twenty-seven and twenty-eight.
    “Um, okay.” Lucy slipped her hand into Mei’s. Warmth pulsed through her. She tugged her hand away, but Mei held firm. Lucy glanced at the woman; Mei shook her head and jerked her chin toward their hands.
    As Lucy stared, the lines between them blurred. Their fingers blended together. No, wait, the air between them fuzzed, like a cloud forming around Mei’s fingers. Her mouth dropped open, and Lucy squinted harder. The image of their hands grew hazy. Why didn’t it freak Mei out, too?
    “Meet Monkey, Lucy.” After pulling back her hand, Mei cocked her head. “So, the Red Death, huh? What’s it like? I mean, I’ve examined the virus under a microscope, but I’ve never met an infected person. Do they really cry tears of blood?”
    Lucy stared at the girl’s hand. How the hell—
    “Amazing how anyone could survive. Well, I mean not you, because we’re practically immortal—”
    “Mei.” The bellow from below jerked Lucy from the spell. “That’s enough. Bring Lucy down so we can see what she can do.”
    Sheng. That was Sheng calling to them.
    “Ah, damn him,” Mei muttered. She raised her voice to call through the window. “I said ‘practically,’ Li. I know we’re not really immortal. Sheesh.” She grumbled while waving toward the ladder for them to join the others below.
    Wait. Sheng could hear them? This whole time? Lucy slapped her hands on her flaming cheeks.
    Mei grinned. Mischievously. “We’ll try this again later.”
    Uh-huh. Later. When she had a clearer head. Lucy glanced at the