"Sir, there are two men from the Guild asking to speak with you."
Lu Shen looked up from the book he was consulting and frowned, then stood. "Show them in."
Ling disappeared and went to the gate where the two men were waiting. The one with the mustache, who had shown him his badge, offered a courteous smile when he was invited to follow him inside.
The study where the sorcerer received clients could be accessed from the garden, though it was connected to the house by a door that opened onto a small hallway.
Lu Shen didn't have time to react: as soon as the glass door was opened, an invisible net bound his hands. His eyes met those of the sorcerer who had broken into his house, and he saw Ling collapse to the ground when the other man struck him on the back of the head with the butt of a gun.
"What do you want?" he demanded angrily, trying to free his hands to summon his magic.
"Tell us where you keep the incense burner."
So that really was the object they were after.
The other man grabbed him by the throat. "Where did you hide it?" he hissed, bringing his face close to his.
Lu Shen headbutted him and heard the crack of a breaking nose. The man cried out, stumbling back, clutching his nose as blood poured from it.
Enraged, he lunged at him and punched him hard across the cheekbone.
Lu Shen straightened and kicked a chair toward him, sending him sprawling to the floor.
"Enough!" The sorcerer's voice was accompanied by a movement of his hands, and Lu Shen felt an invisible rope tighten around him, completely immobilizing him.
Then the other man approached. "Talk!"
Lu Shen didn't know why they wanted that object, but if it was important enough for them to defy the law—and a sorcerer—it had to be truly significant.
When he didn't answer, a blow to his ribs knocked the breath out of him.
The opposing sorcerer seized him and slammed him against the wall. "Tell me where it is!"
"Why do you want it?"
The other smiled, then struck him in the stomach, doubling him over.
They kept beating him until the Guild sorcerer turned and noticed Ling still lying on the floor.
He crouched down and slapped his face until he came to. Taking the gun from his companion, he pressed it against the servant's temple. Ling's eyes widened in terror.
"Talk, or I'll kill him."
Lu Shen looked into Ling's eyes. The man shook his head. "No, sir, don't tell them!"
The sorcerer ignored him. "You'll have to release me. It's hidden by a spell."
"If you try anything, he dies."
Lu Shen nodded.
The sorcerer handed the hostage and the gun to the other man, then moved his hands, and Lu Shen was freed.
He rose with difficulty, his body aching in several places, then moved toward the back wall. With a gesture of his hand, part of it vanished, revealing niches containing artifacts.
As the attacker grabbed the incense burner, Lu Shen flicked his hand, sending the gun threatening Ling flying away. "Run!" he shouted, as he struck the human criminal with a wave of energy.
He had just enough time to see the servant get to his feet and sprint toward the garden before a powerful force lifted him and hurled him against the bookshelf on the opposite wall, knocking him unconscious.
---
"Sir, sir!"
With a groan, Lu Shen regained consciousness to find Ling looking down at him in alarm.
"I'm fine," he said, touching his head—but a flash of pain shot through him and he closed his eyes. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position, resting his back against the bookshelf.
"I called Detective Li."
Lu Shen nodded. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, sir. I'm so sorry. I didn't suspect their intentions… the badge was real…"
"It's not your fault, Ling," he reassured him. He tried to stand, and Ling helped him over to the couch.
Then the doorbell rang.
"I'll see if it's the detective."
Zeyang arrived at a run and knelt beside him. Lu Shen heard him mutter a curse, then felt his arm wrap around his shoulders. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
He shook his head, but the other man lifted him anyway. He closed his eyes against the pain and leaned heavily on him.
In the car, he slumped into the seat, every breath a stab of pain in his chest.
---
When Ling had called, Zeyang had rushed to the sorcerer's house, and when he saw him sitting on the couch, his face bruised and bloodied, his stomach had dropped.
Now, as he drove toward the hospital, he kept glancing at him. He could hear his fractured breathing, see his energy flickering unsteadily.
At the emergency room, they diagnosed multiple contusions and three cracked ribs.
"Thank you," Lu Shen said when they were back home.
Ling came to meet them. "You can go home now, thank you," the sorcerer dismissed him.
"Sir, I can stay."
"It's not necessary. Go home—it's been hard on you too."
"Don't worry, Ling. I'll stay with him," Zeyang cut in.
"What?" Lu Shen looked at him, but the policeman's expression left no room for argument.
After Ling left, Zeyang helped Lu Shen to the bedroom. "I'll fix you something to eat so you can take the painkillers."
Left alone, the sorcerer tried to remove his shirt.
"Need help?" Lu Shen flinched at the detective's voice.
Before he could answer, Zeyang gently slipped the garment off him.
"Where do you keep a zip-up sweatshirt?"
Lu Shen indicated a drawer. Zeyang helped him put it on and knelt on one knee in front of him to pull up the zipper. Their eyes met, and Lu Shen's heart skipped a beat.
"L-let's go to the living room," he murmured softly.
The other nodded and helped him to his feet.
Lu Shen sat on the couch, his legs folded beneath him, one arm wrapped around his torso as if to shield himself. He watched Zeyang moving about at the stove and, little by little, began to relax.
---
The detective's blood was boiling with anger—at what they had done to Lu Shen and at himself for not being able to protect him.
He had called Lombardi and informed him of what had happened, hoping the two attackers would finally make a mistake.
He wasn't good at cooking, but he prepared a simple, warm vegetable soup.
He brought a bowl to Lu Shen, who held it in his hands, looking at him.
"I was too confident. Is that what you think?"
Zeyang smiled. "No, Shen. I think they were clever to knock on your door, since they couldn't break your magical defenses. And that I should have thought of that…"
A hand rested on his. "Don't take blame that isn't yours."
The warmth of those fingers silenced him. He swallowed. "Eat while it's hot."
The hand withdrew, leaving behind the memory of that warmth.
When the meal was finished, Zeyang brought him the pills. "Go to sleep now."
Lu Shen nodded. "Thank you, Zeyang. Go home—you must be tired."
The detective raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going anywhere. Your couch looks very comfortable. Don't worry—I don't snore."
The sorcerer stared at him, unsure how to react. In the end, he went to the bedroom and brought him a pillow and blankets.
"Thanks," Zeyang smiled, fluffing the pillow and arranging the covers.
Lu Shen returned to his room and lay down, thoughtful. That house had always been silent; he had never shared that space with anyone. Yet the muffled sounds coming from the living room were not bothersome. On the contrary, they filled him with a strange sense of warmth and life.