《You Know Where to Find Me》 1 / Somewhere Present Day, London When I stepped on a plane and left the only country I¡¯d ever known behind, my destination was quite literally anywhere else. I had no idea where I would end up, how long I would stay or what I would do when I got there. All I knew was that I needed to be somewhere that wasn¡¯t where I had always been. I was running away, obviously. I still didn¡¯t know what I was running toward, but I hoped to find somethingat some point in my journey to help me forget the emptiness I felt inside. I¡¯d expected that traveling would make me feel free, but I was learning that freedom is partially a state of mind. Escaping a prison of my own creation didn¡¯t mean I knew how to live beyond the bars. Free was just another word for untethered, unattached, unsecured, and possibly lost. Whatever I was looking for, my next stop was London, and it began, as most things involving travel do, with a long line ¨Cor queue, as the locals called it. I didn¡¯t mind the wait since I was still trying to decide what I would say when the customs officer asked why I was there. Technically, I could pretend to be anyone. I¡¯d tried on a few different personas at previous stops: a tourist, a researcher, a migrant worker. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t very good at any of these roles, and pretending to be something I¡¯m not had only invited more questions. I¡¯d always imagined that becoming someone else for a while would be easy, but I must not be skilled enough at acting. The line moved forward and I rolled my suitcase along beside me as I followed, smiling at a fussy baby blowing a raspberry at me over her father¡¯s shoulder. When she saw me smiling at her, she made a dissatisfied sound and hid her face against his shoulder. Sighing, I looked away, my gaze bouncing off of a dozen other weary travelers, none of whom were interested in making eye contact with anyone. ¡°Next!¡± The baby and her parents moved to the open desk and I took another step forward. ¡°Over there,¡± the officer directing traffic said gruffly to me, pointing at a spot further down the row of desks. ¡°Number thirteen.¡± I followed her direction and waited in the appropriate spot, trying once again to think of a way to explain myself and my aimless travels. Nothing came to mind before I was called forward so I decided to be honest. The man on the other side of the plexiglass very clearly hated his job. He gazed at me with loathing from beneath furrowed brows and held out an impatient hand for my passport. I handed it over and watched him scowl at his computer while scanning the document, tapping impatiently at the desk as he waited for my personal details to appear on the screen. He gave me a piercing look. ¡°Ri Sang Kyu?¡± ¡°That¡¯s me.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been traveling quite a bit, haven¡¯t you? Singapore, India, Australia, Zambia¡­ Checking off all the countries of the commonwealth, are you?¡± His voice was monotone and so dry that I couldn¡¯t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. ¡°Trying to check off more than that,¡± I replied. ¡°Every country. The whole world.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°To what end?¡± ¡°I suppose you could say I still haven¡¯t found what I¡¯m looking for.¡± His bushy eyebrows quivered. ¡°Mm. Just like Bono. How long do you plan to stay in England, then? Until you find this thing that you don¡¯t know you¡¯re looking for?¡± ¡°How long can I stay on a visitor¡¯s visa?¡± I countered. The man rolled his eyes. ¡°You are one of those, then.¡± ¡°Those?¡± I repeated. ¡°An artist.¡± The word was spoken with impeccable diction and obvious distaste. He slapped a stamp against a blank page in my passport before handing it back to me. ¡°Hopping from place to place in search of inspiration or meaning or whatever-you-call-it.¡± His voice dripped with disgust. ¡°You want my advice? Wake up and get a real job.¡± Taking my passport with a forced smile, I nodded crisply. ¡°Thanks for the advice.¡± As if I hadn¡¯t tried that already. The airport terminal was full of people who knew where they were going. Some of them had people waiting for them already, others were on their way to meet them and those who didn¡¯t have anyone at least had somewhere to go and something to do. I never felt lonelier than when I was walking through an airport because I didn¡¯t have any of those things and I wasn¡¯t sure if I ever would again. My steps slowed when I saw a homeless man sitting at the side of the terminal holding out a cardboard box and I shook myself a little, remembering that not everyone had somewhere to go or someone waiting for them. I still had more than most even if I was lonely. Fishing a few crisp notes out of my wallet, I tossed them into the man¡¯s box and kept walking, ignoring his gasp of surprise when he saw the denomination of the bills. Taking a deep breath and deciding to stop feeling sorry for myself, I started paying attention to signs and following directions to the Underground. The Piccadilly line would take me into the city, which was where I wanted to go even if I hadn¡¯t decided on anything more specific than that. The train was full and reminded me a little of Seoul as I crammed myself into a corner with my luggage and tried not to make contact, visual or otherwise, with anyone as the train swayed and ratcheted along the tracks. A couple of excited tourists smiled at me from their seats on the other side of the train, the only friendly faces in the car. I nodded back at them, forcing a smile before looking away. An ad flashed over the screen at one end of the train car and my gaze darted toward it before I could stop myself, the video showing happy people lifting their phones to view the same app. They exchanged gossip and shared secrets with strangers, each more scandalous than the last. The interlocking circles of Requite¡¯s logo rippled across the screen to reveal the platform¡¯s tagline. Your Secret¡¯s Out. No matter where I went, Liminal¡¯s ubiquitous app followed, opening doorways to my past that I would rather keep shut. I looked away before the screen could transition to a face I knew all too well. The train emptied and filled again a few times before I finally picked a destination. Covent Garden, the station tile read in crisp black serif against white brick. I hadn¡¯t done my research on London before buying a ticket to fly there so I knew almost nothing about the city, but I had spent the last several months withering in Zambia¡¯s dry season and the idea of a lush garden sounded appealing. Unfortunately, the place I found myself was about as far from a greenspace as one could get. Judging by the age of the brickwork, the square had been paved over for at least a century and was entirely bereft of nature unless you counted the planters hanging on either side of the market entrance. It was an excellent place for people-watching, however, so I decided to find a cafe and plant myself there for a while until I figured out where I wanted to go next. Taking a seat at a table outside a corner shop called A Proper Cuppa, I ordered black coffee, earning a scowl and a roll of the eyes from the owner which likely meant I¡¯d been dismissed as a lousy foreigner. Feeling the need to regain her trust for no reason I could explain, I asked what she would recommend to eat. Her eyebrows twitched and she shook her head. ¡°For you? Not sure I could recommend a thing.¡± ¡°How about a scone?¡± She harrumphed and scribbled on her notepad. ¡°Jam and clotted cream?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I agreed, thinking that a two-pronged attack of sugar and caffeine would help me fight off the malaise of jet lag.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Coming right up,¡± she said with absolutely no pleasure. I realized as she turned away that my decision to order coffee was probably where I had gone wrong. Tea was the local custom, I recalled, thinking of how India had been similar and feeling the familiar urge to blend in. I resisted it as best I could, reminding myself that it wasn¡¯t my job to blend in anymore. The taste of the coffee made me reconsider my decision to flaunt custom, the flavor burnt and bitter enough to make me think that the owner simply didn¡¯t know how to make a proper cup of anything but tea. The scone, on the other hand, was delicious even if it was nothing like what I¡¯d expected, less of a pastry and more of a biscuit with a buttery spread and thick, red jam on top. I considered ordering a second one, but decided not to give the prickly owner any more of my money. A cool breeze made me shiver and I hugged my arms to my sides, thinking about pulling a jacket out of my backpack but deciding to simply soak in the chill. The dreariness of London fall was about as far from Zambia¡¯s arid heat as I could find, but that wasn¡¯t why I¡¯d chosen it. The truth was that I chose the cheapest flight I could find for the day and managed to find an open spot in a flight to London that was almost full. My free visitor¡¯s visa to Zambia was close to running out so I¡¯d needed a new place to land for the next step in my journey. The paved plaza ¨C actually referred to as a piazza according to a nearby sign although there didn¡¯t appear to be much Italian about it ¨C held all manner of people with such diversity of physicality and cultural heritage that just watching them all pass by my table made me feel like I was traveling around the world while sitting still. Or maybe that was just the combination of jet lag and clotted cream making me whimsical. This was my favorite part of travel, settling into a new place and learning its particular rhythms and flavor. Every new destination brought with it a new palette of flavors and scents and sights to discover while I tried to figure out how I fit within the whole. Watching a group of children dart in and out around the shoppers, playing tag and using the crowd as an obstacle course to make the game more fun, I felt the uneasy sensation of being watched in return. That was when I noticed a massive black dog seated on its haunches nearby, so big and still that it reminded me of a guardian lion at a temple, but it seemed to be guarding the children more than the entrance to the arcade. And it was staring directly at me. I recognized immediately that the creature was no normal canine. Even from across the square, I could smell its otherworldly aura. I had learned how to recognize the signs, and even though the last thing I wanted was more evidence of how I didn¡¯t truly belong in the world as it was, I kept stumbling upon reminders everywhere I went. Breaking eye contact with the dog, I looked down into my cup and took another bitter sip, deliberately doing my best to ignore the weight of red eyes. My father¡¯s journals contained multiple entries about ghostly black dogs, but I didn¡¯t need to do any research to know that no matter its particular identity, it was a bad omen. While such dogs might protect children or women walking alone at night, most of its appearances were associated with death, a warning that you or someone close to you would die within the year. Shaking my head, I finished the dregs of my horrible coffee and returned the empty cup to its saucer with no regard for the grounds left at the bottom or whatever ominous messages they might also be sending me. I¡¯d seen too much death already for such omens to scare me. Then my phone buzzed and I flinched so badly that I nearly flung the coffee cup over the side of the table. Delicately releasing the handle, I took a deep breath before retrieving my phone from my pocket. I wasn¡¯t used to getting messages these days. Everyone who had ever called or texted me had been left behind along with the life I¡¯d abandoned in Korea. I hadn¡¯t gotten to know anyone in my travels well enough to keep in touch after I moved on, and even though I¡¯d expected to stay in touch with some of the other connections I¡¯d made over the years, as the time and distance between us grew, the thought of starting a conversation after such a gap seemed too daunting to attempt. The only person who messaged me much at all these days was my younger brother, mostly in the form of photos rather than text. His messages were proof of life more than true connection, snapshots of him on campus studying in a particularly picturesque spot or selfies with friends at a restaurant. He¡¯d started hiking recently, so I got a lot of images of sunsets from the top of a mountain with his lean frame silhouetted against the golden sky. Sometimes he was there with someone else although I could never make out enough details to identify the other person. This time the notification wasn¡¯t from anyone I knew. It was a news alert I¡¯d set up while I worked for Yun Seo. I thought I¡¯d deactivated all of my alerts but apparently something had gotten reset in a recent update. Staring at the headline, I tried to decide if I wanted to click on the story and learn more. Ye Kwang resigns amid fraud accusations. The story started loading before I realized I¡¯d tapped on it. Second generation chaebol and prominent philanthropist Ye Kwang has resigned his position at Kwang Pharmaceuticals after accusations of fraud broke on Requite. The anonymous post makes detailed accusations of backdoor business deals between Ye Kwang and other prominent business figures, the details of which have been removed from the site while the claims are being investigated. Liminal CEO, Jang Yun Seo, has issued a statement in response to this measure. ¡°We are cooperating with law enforcement under protest and have temporarily removed the post, but we feel strongly that hiding this information from the public is against the very spirit of our platform. Requite was designed to cut through the divides between classes and ensure that every voice gets heard with equal weight, especially those without traditional means or power.¡± I looked up from the phone, staring unseeing across the square as I tried to calm my suddenly racing heart. Ye Kwang had always been the finale of Yun Seo¡¯s revenge plot, the last person he would target once every other enemy had fallen. When I stopped working for him, Yun Seo still had copious amounts of work to do before he would be ready to bring Ye Kwang to justice, but now that I was doing the math I realized that nearly eight months had passed since I left, plenty of time to finish that work and then some. Regardless, his endgame was obviously in motion. None of this news had anything to do with me anymore, and yet I had been so deeply involved in all of it for so long that I felt more alone than ever learning how far Yun Seo¡¯s plans had progressed without me. I¡¯d always suspected that Yun Seo hadn¡¯t really needed me, but it was still jarring to know how little my involvement had mattered. What was worse was that it was obvious that in order to defeat Ye Kwang, Yun Seo had used intel from a source I¡¯d wanted to protect. My absence may not have made a difference to Yun Seo, but it certainly made a difference to Dae Hak Kun and his wife. I could only hope they would survive the fallout. ¡°Mind if I join you?¡± I was so buried so deep within my own thoughts that I didn¡¯t realize the woman was speaking to me until I heard her pull the chair across from me out from beneath the table, the metal feet clattering against the bricks along the way. Blinking at her, I looked around to confirm that the rest of the tables were still empty and tried to figure out why she was asking to sit with me. Then I noticed the exotic scent wafting from her, familiar and yet strange. Another Unseen. And another omen of death if I was judging correctly, dressed all in white with long, red waves of hair that fell nearly to her waist. She was skeletally thin, her pale bony hands clasping atop the table as she perched on the edge of the chair, sunken, bloodshot eyes peering out at me from within bruises of exhaustion. Her age was impossible to judge, the vivid red of her hair giving her a youthful look while her parchment-thin skin made her seem ancient. Thin lips curved as she nodded at me. ¡°You know what I am, don¡¯t you?¡± Her words lilted with a musical accent. I wasn¡¯t adept enough at English to identify it, but there was a sobbing note to her voice that verified my suspicion. ¡°You¡¯re a banshee,¡± I replied. A chuckle like dry leaves on cobblestones made me squirm with discomfort. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re here to warn me that someone I love is about to die. You¡¯re too late. I¡¯ve already lost all the people I care about.¡± That wasn¡¯t strictly true, but it was close enough to the truth for me to hope the lie wouldn¡¯t matter. ¡°Everyone has something to lose,¡± she insisted, reaching out to pet the shuck¡¯s head as the dog padded up to her and sat silently down on its haunches at her side. ¡°Even someone as lonely as you.¡± I sighed, sitting back in my chair. ¡°Fine. Give me your warning so I can get on with my day.¡± Her smile was terrifying, her teeth sharp and white behind pale lips. ¡°Death is a transition, the end of one sort of existence and the beginning of another. Your steps are overshadowed by death, but I¡¯m not here to give you warnings you¡¯ll refuse to heed. I am simply curious. So few recognize us anymore.¡± ¡°My father studied people like you,¡± I said, keeping my explanation brief. ¡°He taught you how to recognize us?¡± I shook my head. ¡°He wasn¡¯t the one who taught me.¡± Tilting her head as if listening to something I couldn¡¯t hear, she closed her eyes. ¡°The one who taught you¡­ He¡¯s running out of time.¡± A chill washed over me from head to toe and suddenly I wished the sun was shining. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t here to give me warnings.¡± Giving me another horrifying grin, she cackled through another sob. ¡°I can¡¯t help what I am.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care what happens to him,¡± I said, and this time even I could tell that my lie was obvious. The sympathy was obvious in her expression as she replied, ¡°You will cry when he dies.¡± And that was enough for me. Tucking payment with an undeserved tip beneath the saucer, I stood up and shrugged my backpack over a shoulder. ¡°Next time, ask if someone wants a prophecy before sharing.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how it works!¡± Ignoring her protest, I turned my back on her and her predictions and lost myself in the crowd, trying to go back to pretending that I didn¡¯t care. 2 / Reflections Present Day, London I walked for a while with no particular destination in mind, eventually finding the river and walking alongside it while the cold soaked through my sweater and into my skin. Eventually I found a bar that opened early and went inside, dragging my suitcase with me. Drinking had become a problem when I worked for Yun Seo, the alcohol serving as a way to ignore the gnawing emptiness inside of me. I¡¯d told myself I would never drink like that again or use it as a way to escape my feelings, but I decided that I would break that promise just for one day. The bar was dark and lit with swirls of neon light that cast a chill glow over all of the reflective surfaces, making the darkness feel like a fragmented dream. I found a seat in the corner and ordered whiskey, not the expensive stuff that Yun Seo had always preferred, but something cheap that I could drink for hours without making too much of a dent in my savings. I still didn¡¯t know where I would spend the night, but I wasn¡¯t worried. I could find a place to crash for one night, even if it was with a stranger. I drank slowly and tried not to think as the bar slowly filled, watching the smiling, inebriated people without really seeing them and trying to remember the last time I¡¯d felt that happy. Wallowing in emotions I didn¡¯t want to feel, I didn¡¯t notice the man who sat down at my table until he spoke. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been at it for a while, mate,¡± he observed in a posh accent. Looking up, I squinted at him in surprise, my foggy senses seeing what they wanted to see for a moment and sending a shock of want down my spine, the resemblance so uncanny that I thought at first that he¡¯d walked straight out of my memory. His hair was dark, his eyes even darker and he smirked as if he could read my thoughts well enough to find them amusing. ¡°Shall I order you another?¡± he asked, relaxing back in his chair and I could tell from the way his tailored suit shifted over his body that his compact frame was all muscle. ¡°Maybe something a little nicer this time?¡± Calling over the nearest waiter with a gesture that was practiced and easy, he put in an order. Of course he drank the same brand as Yun Seo. ¡°Something funny?¡± I shook my head. ¡°You have good taste.¡± The man leaned his elbows on the table and gave me a piercing look, sculpted cheekbones catching in a flare of neon light from the dance floor. ¡°How can you know that when you haven¡¯t even tasted me yet?¡± Laughing in relief to find something about him that was different from Yun Seo, I said, ¡°Not much for subtlety, are you?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure subtlety would work on someone as half-cut as you appear to be.¡± ¡°I have a high tolerance.¡± ¡°Maybe I should have ordered a double.¡± ¡°Are you trying to get me drunk?¡± He shrugged a little and slouched in his chair again. ¡°I¡¯m trying to cheer you up is all. That sad face you¡¯re pulling is really bringing me down.¡± ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just a sad drunk,¡± I replied, relieved when the waiter returned with our drinks. ¡°I think you¡¯re a lonely drunk,¡± the man countered, lifting his glass to tap it against mine. ¡°And I aim to change that.¡± Studying him as I tasted the familiar flavor on my tongue, I tried to decide if he was real or a shapeshifter of some sort who took the form of whatever a person most desired. But I couldn¡¯t think of any creatures that matched that description, and he wasn¡¯t exactly like Yun Seo. He was a little older, perhaps, a little taller, and clearly of English descent. ¡°New to town?¡± he asked, eyeing my suitcase. I nodded. ¡°Looking for a place to stay, in fact,¡± I said, deciding to give into the temptation to lose myself in the familiarity. ¡°Just for a night.¡± The man chuckled, and the arrogance of the sound was eerily familiar. ¡°Now who is being less than subtle?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood for subtlety.¡± I replied, taking another sip and rolling it around on my tongue before swallowing. ¡°My name¡¯s Ian.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Laughing again, Ian reached out to trace a finger over my jaw. ¡°What should I call you, then?¡± ¡°Jon.¡± I¡¯d used the pseudonym occasionally in the less than legal things I¡¯d done for Yun Seo. A western name made it easier to hide my identity when I was doing work that crossed borders. Nodding as if he knew I was lying about my name, Ian leaned closer until our lips brushed together as he spoke. ¡°Nice to meet you, Jon.¡± Then he kissed me. It was nothing special. Ian was a little too careful for my liking, his hand almost limp against my jaw and his lips nibbling at mine so playfully that I bit a little at his in reaction. He made a sound I thought was dismay but must have been interest instead, because soon his hand was gripping me harder and the kiss became sloppy and demanding, hot and wet and enough to keep me distracted for a while. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. After we finished our drinks, Ian invited me back to his place and we fucked until I felt sore and hollow, wrung out by the intensity of my longing and just drunk enough to pretend he was what I wanted, but he wasn¡¯t quite as strong as Yun Seo nor as cruel. He was overly gentle when I wanted him to be rough and he was kind when I wanted him to be cold. Even his arrogance was similar but not quite right, all posturing with no intelligence to back it up. He went out on the balcony to smoke when it was over, and that was jarring enough to shake me out of my fantasy. Looking at him standing out in the cold night air, his profile too hawkish and a little too round to be quite right, the differences seemed all too obvious. Yun Seo had always been just shy of pretty, his masculinity undercut by a boyish quality that came out when he was flustered or feeling vulnerable, but there was nothing of a boy left in this man. He was all grown up and boring, accepting his life as it was rather than treating it like a game that could be either won or lost. He lacked Yun Seo¡¯s passion, his refusal to settle for less than what he thought he deserved. I was thrown off enough that I considered leaving right then, but I didn¡¯t want to check into a hotel and spend the rest of the night alone, so I pretended to be asleep when he returned and tried to ignore the tender way he touched me before falling asleep at my back, his soft snores soon filling the room. Staring into the darkness, I waited for sleep that wouldn¡¯t come, my mind so exhausted by spirals of useless thought that it refused to settle. When sleep finally found me, it was almost dawn. I should have known I would dream of Yun Seo after fucking his English doppelg?nger. ¡°We¡¯re close now,¡± dream Yun Seo said, standing next to the window of his bedroom and looking out at a night sky that was alive with flashes of lightning against roiling clouds. ¡°Soon we¡¯ll have everything we need to take Ye Kwang down.¡± His shoulders were wrapped in a silk robe that hid his scars. Not that they would have been visible in the darkness anyway, but it was strange that he was wearing so little when he¡¯d always kept himself as hidden as possible. I could only catch the faintest glimpse of his features in the glass when the lightning briefly turned night into day, but his lips were curved with a hint of triumph, his eyes intense beneath the shadow of hair that hung loose over his face. ¡°And then what?¡± I asked, shivering in spite of the warm duvet wrapped around my legs. I was propped up on my arms in the midst of tangled sheets that resembled the storm outside more than a bed. ¡°Then?¡± He shrugged a shoulder and took a sip of whiskey. ¡°Then I take back what¡¯s mine. Everything they took from me and my family.¡± I didn¡¯t say anything, but I couldn¡¯t help but wonder about everyone else, all the others who had been wronged as well. Yun Seo didn¡¯t seem to be concerned about them getting the justice they deserved even though he¡¯d used that incentive to get them to expose their own secrets and put their lives on the line in pursuit of revenge. I looked down at my toes where they were peeking out from beneath the sheet and wondered how much longer I could keep playing this game when I had nothing to gain and everything to lose. ¡°You¡¯ve been wronged as well,¡± Yun Seo insisted as if reading my mind. ¡°Your father would still be alive if it hadn¡¯t been for them.¡± I nodded absently, but didn¡¯t reply. I wasn¡¯t sure that was true. If they hadn¡¯t given him purpose, I¡¯m not sure my father would have outlived my mother very long anyway. ¡°Sang Kyu.¡± Sighing, I tried to untangle myself from the covers. It was time to go. I never stayed the night, rarely had the luxury of using Yun Seo¡¯s plush mattress for anything other than sex. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t drive home in this storm.¡± I looked up to see that he¡¯d turned toward me, his profile silhouetted against a burst of lightning. He watched me as if waiting to see how I would react. It felt like a test and I hesitated while thunder rumbled softly in the distance. Sliding off the mattress, I winced at the cold floor against my bare feet. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± I bent down to find my jeans in the pile of discarded clothing and was startled to feel his hand against my back. It was warm, feverishly hot, and even that much contact was enough to make me want more, as if my dream self knew that it had been months since my real body had been this close to him even though in the dream I¡¯d obviously had enough to be willing to leave. The dissonance between the dream and reality left me feeling dizzy. ¡°Go back to bed,¡± Yun Seo murmured and I found myself wanting to say yes even though I knew better than to accept such generosity. His gifts always came with a price. When I turned to look at him, his expression was cool and distant as always. His reasons for asking me to stay were obviously practical rather than because of any kind of attachment. Strangely, that made me feel better, to know he was behaving exactly as I expected. ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± I said, turning away from him and the comfort I longed for but knew I wouldn¡¯t find at his side. I woke up with a stranger pressed against my back and wanted to crawl out of my own skin to escape the clammy touch of the arm around my waist and the hot breath against the nape of my neck. Luckily, Ian was a heavy sleeper and didn¡¯t stir as I slipped out of his grasp. I dressed quickly and slipped out the door on silent feet, eager for a shower but not willing to stay long enough to risk another encounter with Ian. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator doors and frowned at the dark mark on my neck. Ian might not be Yun Seo, but he¡¯d left me with bruises just the same. When I left the rundown apartment building, I realized that I was somewhere in East London. Shoreditch, according to the map on my phone. I suspected that this was the kind of place the customs officer had been expecting me to go, the streets decorated with art and lined with trendy bars that had menus like museum placards. I had been to enough cities now to recognize the pattern, how a neighborhood started out as the kind of place only immigrants would be willing to live in until the artists in search of cheap housing started taking over, making it popular until eventually gentrification pushed both groups out. Shoreditch seemed to be in the late stages of its transformation and I suspected that in spite of the artsy people still wandering the streets and the murals covering most of the walls, the bleeding edge artists had already moved on to the next place to be. It suited my purposes well enough for the moment. This was a place where I could blend in without even trying. I wasn¡¯t an artist, but I had spent a lot of time pretending to be a part of one crowd or another back in Seoul, and this was one I fit into better than most. I was a little too old to pass for just-out-of-college, but I still looked young enough to pass for post-grad even though I was tipping my way toward the middle of my thirties. I wandered around looking for places with signs in the window advertising places to rent, but I didn¡¯t have much luck. Realizing that I wasn¡¯t going to make a great impression smelling like alcohol and looking like the death the banshee claimed I had hanging over me all the time, I decided to find a spot to pass the time until I could shake off my jet lag and clear my head. I booked a room in a ridiculously overpriced hotel not far from Ian¡¯s building and ignored the cost. I didn¡¯t pay much attention to the hotel¡¯s decor either in spite of the designer¡¯s obvious intent to make a statement with loud wallpaper and bright colors, simply dropping my backpack on the bed and sleepwalking my way through a shower, grateful for the decent water pressure and the scalding heat. Collapsing on the bed afterward, I felt sleep swallow me whole the moment my head hit the pillow. 3 // New Job The Past, Seoul I met Jang Yun Seo a few years after my mother died. The year she died had been the hardest of my life up to that point, but life after she was gone proved to be even worse than watching her suffer. Instead of her treatments and increasingly bad news, we had to grapple with the reality that we¡¯d never see her smile again or benefit from her wisdom. My father was a wreck afterward, his already poor habits around financial decisions and practical concerns spiraling out of control until we were so deep in debt he couldn¡¯t see his way out of the pit he had created. Chan Wook took care of the daily chores like household maintenance, cooking and keeping mother¡¯s plants alive while I did my best to get our finances under control. Things improved when I graduated high school and dad went back to work at the university because he had something to distract him from his despair and I had more time to earn money, but dad continued to make bad financial decisions at a rate that outstripped my ability to pay down our debt. Chan Wook wanted to find a part time job to help, but he was still in high school and had much better chances of succeeding in college than I did, so I told him to stay focused on school and that soon enough he would be earning more than the rest of us combined. My most lucrative job was at a neighborhood Chinese restaurant. I¡¯d started working there while I was still in school and knew all the regulars by name. Most of them lived in the neighborhood, but the food was good enough to attract a few people beyond. Rarely did anyone with real wealth walk through the door, but I could tell Park In Ho had money the first time I saw him. His first visit was with a local, but then he became a regular, coming every first Friday of the month thereafter like clockwork, him, his wife and young child. They would always request the same booth near the fish tank, a table that was generally in my section, and the child would stare at the fish with wide eyes while they ate. Since he always wore an expensive suit and looked effortlessly put together, I at first assumed Park was a businessman, but then I saw him on the news one day speaking on behalf of a client and learned that he was a corporate lawyer, a shock since the kind of people he defended wouldn¡¯t even notice that someone like me existed. Then suddenly Park and his family stopped coming at all. When he finally returned six months later, he was alone, haggard and unshaven, his hair long in the back as if he¡¯d forgotten to get it cut. I offered him the booth by the fish tank but he asked for a small table on the other side of the room. The table wasn¡¯t in my section, but I volunteered to take his meal to him when it was ready, curious about what had happened and worried when I noticed the stain on his white shirt as he picked up his chopsticks. Divorce was the obvious explanation, but he still wore his wedding ring and the haunted look in his eyes suggested something much worse. His wife had always been lovely and would ask me about school, listening closely to my answers as if she actually cared. I hoped she was okay but I was afraid to ask and find out something had happened to her. ¡°Thanks,¡± Park said in a rough voice, his gaze flicking up at me before focusing on the bruise on my neck. ¡°What happened?¡± I reached up to cover the bruise out of habit, but stopped myself halfway. ¡°I wrecked my bike,¡± I replied. ¡°Took a turn too fast.¡± A smile tugged at his lips, but his expression was still so melancholy that the smile couldn¡¯t manage to do more than reflect a hint of amusement. ¡°Those things are death traps, you know.¡± Something about the wry twist of his lips made me think he had a bike of his own, or had at least owned one at some point in his life. I thought about my reason for buying a motorcycle, the idea that it would be cheap transportation between home, school and my part-time jobs ¨C even though that had proven not to be as true as I¡¯d expected ¨C and then I considered the true reason I had bought it instead of taking public transportation. I¡¯d wanted to feel the speed, to play with the idea of pushing boundaries. I¡¯d taken on so many responsibilities that the idea of freedom even for such fleeting moments had been irresistible even if it came along with danger ¨C perhaps because it was dangerous. Sometimes the idea of escape was intoxicating. ¡°Not if you know how to drive them,¡± I protested. ¡°But not everyone on the road drives safely.¡± And that was the truth. My accident had happened because of another driver who cut me off and gave me no room to maneuver out of the way. Park nodded thoughtfully as he took a bite and chewed it mechanically, not seeming to even taste the food before swallowing. ¡°You¡¯re that safe of a driver?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of endangering other people¡¯s lives,¡± I replied, not mentioning that when I was alone on empty streets late at night I was far less careful. ¡°How mature,¡± Park said with a dry chuckle, playing with his food more than he was eating it. ¡°I came in here yesterday and you weren¡¯t here. I thought maybe you¡¯d gotten a new job.¡± ¡°Yesterday?¡± I shook my head, surprised that he¡¯d been looking for me. ¡°I was working one of my part-time jobs then.¡± ¡°One of your part-time jobs?¡± Park repeated, arching an eyebrow. ¡°How many jobs do you have?¡± Shaking my head, I started to back away from the table in embarrassment. Even if he was obviously less kempt than usual, In Ho was clearly in a class far above my own. ¡°Three. It¡¯s no big deal.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you in college?¡± I hesitated, thrown off by that question in the way I always was even though I was old enough that I should have graduated by now. I could have gone to college if I¡¯d really wanted to. My father got a tuition discount at the university where he taught, but I had been more concerned with paying down our debts and giving Chan Wook an opportunity to go to school instead. Chan Wook was far brighter than I was and would get more out of the experience I was sure. Even with the discount, dad couldn¡¯t afford to pay for both of us and I wasn¡¯t smart enough to get enough scholarships to do more than bury us in even deeper debt. ¡°You aren¡¯t,¡± In Ho concluded by my silence. ¡°Nothing wrong with that. There are many ways to make a living.¡± Putting down his chopsticks, he leaned an elbow on the table and pointed a finger at me. ¡°In fact, I know someone who¡¯s looking for a driver. It¡¯s easy work and he pays ridiculously well. You probably could quit all of your other jobs and still make far more than you¡¯re making now.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± I asked, fiddling with the seam of my apron where it was starting to fray. ¡°Well¡­¡± Park shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s an entitled asshole, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve had your share of difficult customers if you¡¯re working that much.¡± Nodding, I thought back on a few choice occasions where I¡¯d had to escort someone out the door or take their verbal abuse only to get stiffed on my tip. Once I¡¯d even been punched by an angry customer. I didn¡¯t work at that place anymore, but not because I¡¯d quit. They¡¯d let me go because they¡¯d been afraid of retaliation. I suspected that I would have had legal recourse for that, but I hadn¡¯t cared enough to pursue anything. I couldn¡¯t afford representation anyway. ¡°I might be interested,¡± I admitted. Feeling around in his pockets, Park pulled out a phone and swiped a few times before putting it down on the table between us. ¡°Put your number in there. I¡¯ll talk to my friend and set something up.¡± I stared at his phone for a while in confusion, wondering why he would do something like this for me, a waiter he barely knew. Sighing, Park pulled another item out of his rumpled jacket, a business card, and offered it to me. ¡°This is me,¡± he said. ¡°Park In Ho.¡± I already knew his name from his credit card, but I didn¡¯t say anything. I simply took his card and noted the high quality cardstock and the familiar name of one of the country¡¯s most prestigious law firms. ¡°Ri Sang Kyu,¡± I said, pocketing the card and picking up his phone to enter my number. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Park took the phone and looked at it before tucking it away again. ¡°You look like you could use a bit of luck.¡± ¡°So do you,¡± I said before I could think better of it, flushing a little when I realized what I¡¯d said. To my shock, Park laughed and nodded, his eyes so sad that my chest ached in immediate sympathy. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m the luckiest guy you¡¯ll ever meet. That¡¯s why I¡¯m sharing some of my luck with you.¡± Weeks passed and I forgot the encounter. I put Park In Ho¡¯s business cards on my bedside table and got lost in the grind of work and sleep along with brief interactions with my father and Chan Wook when our schedules aligned. Father was obsessed with a grant-funded project at work and Chan Wook was busy studying for entrance exams so our paths rarely crossed these days. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I didn¡¯t recognize Park¡¯s phone number when he called since I¡¯d never bothered to enter it into my phone, and I was about to let the call go to voicemail but something made me answer on the last ring even though the only people who ever called me other than my family were debt collectors. ¡°Hello?¡± ¡°Ri Sang Kyu?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Park In Ho. Your favorite customer.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but smile at that. ¡°Oh! Good to hear from you.¡± ¡°Are you free? My friend wants to meet you. In fact, he needs a ride right now. Can you pick him up at the Imperial Palace Hotel in thirty minutes?¡± ¡°On my bike?¡± I asked with a laugh. ¡°Of course not. His car is valet parked. He¡¯s been drinking and needs a ride.¡± I sighed, having second thoughts since I¡¯d worked as a designated driver for a while and knew exactly what I was in for with a drunk passenger, but the fact that someone so entitled would actually be responsible about not driving under the influence intrigued me. Judging the time and distance between me and the fancy Gangnam hotel, I tried to decide if it was even possible for me to make it there in time. Then I remembered the late payments on my mother¡¯s hospital bills. ¡°How much is he paying?¡± Park¡¯s answer sent me running down the hall and pulling on my shoes while I hurried out the front door. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± ¡°Great. His name is Jang Yun Seo. I¡¯ll send you his details in a text.¡± That name sounded familiar but I couldn¡¯t figure out why. ¡°I¡¯m on my way now. Thanks, again.¡± It was still early enough that I could take public transit to the hotel, but I knew I¡¯d never make it in time, so I took my bike and left it in a lot nearby, driving back roads too fast and taking risks I wouldn¡¯t normally take to avoid traffic. The richer someone was, the less tolerant they were of delays so I knew I had to be there on time if I wanted to get the full payment Park had quoted. Walking up to the glittering front entrance of the hotel in my worn jeans and t-shirt made me feel incredibly out of place and I wished I had thought to change before taking off, but I held my head high and didn¡¯t flinch when the man talking with an obviously irritated valet turned to look at me with a piercing gaze, no less intense in spite of his obvious inebriation. He was wearing a tuxedo that fit him like a glove and his hair was so carefully coiffed that it barely twitched, even when he tilted his head with skepticism to look at me. ¡°Legally, I can¡¯t stop you from driving,¡± the valet was saying, ¡°so you can take the keys at any time.¡± ¡°I can, but I told you I wouldn¡¯t. Are you tired of keeping me company? Here I thought we were becoming friends but you only want to get rid of me.¡± Jang Yun Seo¡¯s words slurred only slightly, but he was leaning against the column behind him with a telltale slant. ¡°No, sir, of course not,¡± the valet said with hands fluttering in the air with anxiety, ¡°but if you want to continue waiting, perhaps you would be more comfortable inside?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here to drive him,¡± I said, a little breathless from my rush to get there in time, bowing fluidly to them both as I caught my breath. The man in the tuxedo looked down at his wrist to consult a watch that probably cost more than our house. ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± he said. Pulling my phone out of my pocket I verified that I was still on time according to my reckoning and held it up to show him the timer still running with two minutes to spare. ¡°I was told thirty minutes,¡± I replied. A slow smile bloomed across generous lips and he nodded. Patting the valet on the shoulder, he said, ¡°You can give him the keys.¡± I took the keys from the valet and noted the make of the car, something European that was obscure and elite enough I didn¡¯t recognize the logo. I wasn¡¯t surprised to find that the car itself was sleek and sporty, something that belonged in a grand prix rather than on the streets of Korea. I¡¯d never driven anything like it before and was a little nervous about how difficult it would be to control. ¡°It¡¯s polite to introduce yourself,¡± Jang Yun Seo said as he wove along beside me on our way to the car. ¡°Ri Sang Kyu,¡± I said with another bow. He inclined his chin in acknowledgement, and there was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel naked and exposed. He was beautiful, I realized, startlingly so, with the bone structure and physique of a model and perfectly aligned features that made me want to stare at him until I¡¯d mapped every detail. I didn¡¯t get distracted by appearances very often, but Jang Yun Seo had an otherworldly quality that was almost magnetic. ¡°In Ho said you¡¯re a good driver,¡± he drawled as I opened the passenger door for him. There wasn¡¯t a back seat, so he would be sitting right beside me, close enough to touch. And smell. In addition to the scent of extravagant alcohol on his breath, his cologne was distracting, a combination of florals and musks that brought to mind sense memories that seemed vulgar for someone so refined. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see,¡± he added before slumping into the seat, his words smooth as honey while his movements were barely controlled. Closing the door gently, I walked around the sweeping lines of the car with butterflies in my stomach, doing my best to mask my anxiety as I settled into the driver¡¯s seat and adjusted everything to fit my taller frame. I felt a little cramped in the vehicle even after I¡¯d put everything in place, the space small and close and his attention so focused on me that I could feel it like a tangible weight on the side of my head. ¡°Where are we headed?¡± I asked without looking at him. He leaned forward to call up an address on the console¡¯s screen, his hand brushing over mine on the gear shift as he sat back. His fingers were surprisingly rough, not the touch I had expected from such manicured hands. I glanced at him and regretted the action when I saw his little grin and the way his eyes glittered in the dark, reflecting the lights from the hotel¡¯s facade like faerie fire. I put the car into gear and lurched forward, shocked by the power in the gas and inspiring a darkly amused laugh from my passenger, but I quickly adjusted to the car¡¯s handling. I¡¯d done valet work for a while and test driven a lot of cars ¨C none anywhere close to this caliber ¨C but I knew enough about driving to know how to be gentle with the pedals and adjust quickly to the way a car responded. The address he¡¯d given me was on the outskirts of the city, so we had to take highways and curving country roads that twisted and tangled into the mountains to reach a palatial estate perched at the edge of a cliff. The property wasn¡¯t large enough to be connected to one of the traditional chaebol families, but even if Jang Yun Seo came from new money, the mansion made it obvious that his family had more than enough wealth to live like one. He directed me into a monstrous garage filled with vehicles every bit as expensive as the one I was driving and I held my breath as I drove between them, imagining the debt I could add to my name by accidentally colliding with one. Putting the car in park, I finally released my breath and glanced at Jang Yun Seo, surprised to see how lucid he looked now. He was watching me with a smile twitching his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as they crinkled at the edges. ¡°You took some of those curves a little fast, don¡¯t you think?¡± he asked, his words crisp and sharp. ¡°Did I?¡± I asked with feigned innocence, knowing he was right but also choosing not to be ashamed of how much fun driving a car like this around mountain roads could be. Pressing his lips together, he nodded slowly. ¡°But you handled him well otherwise. Better than most.¡± He stroked a hand fondly over the dashboard as he added, ¡°He¡¯s temperamental for even the best of drivers.¡± The fact that he used gendered pronouns to refer to the car was odd since such a thing was easily avoidable in Korean, but what was even odder was that he referred to the car as male. Usually men anthropomorphized their vehicles as female and this often came across as either misogynistic or vaguely sexual. I wondered what he intended in this situation. Was he trying to tell me something about his own preferences? Or was I simply projecting my own desire? Regardless, he was speaking so clearly now and with such obvious intent that it seemed obvious his drunkenness had been nothing more than an act meant to lower my guard. He¡¯d been drinking, certainly, but he was far too sober now to be as drunk as he¡¯d seemed to be when I first met him. Had this all been a test? Had he called me out at the last minute and feigned inebriation so that he would seem like an easy mark when he was really giving me a difficult car to drive on winding roads to see how I held up under the stress? ¡°I suppose you¡¯re waiting for your payment,¡± he said, pulling a wallet out of the inner pocket of his suit and retrieving bills of a denomination I¡¯d rarely seen singly let alone in a stack. ¡°I¡¯d like to hire you for a week and we¡¯ll see how you do.¡± His nose wrinkled as he gave me a once over and handed over the money. ¡°I¡¯m including an advance you can use to buy some more presentable clothes. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. Pick me up here at nine.¡± Taking the money and tucking it carefully into my pocket, I swallowed my unspoken protest, deciding I could call in sick to my part-time job for the morning rather than quitting right away in case things didn¡¯t work out. But even if I lost the job, I was making more with this advance than I did in two months at the cafe. Looking up to meet his eyes again, I lifted the keys, doubting he actually expected me to drive the sportscar anywhere without him in it. He had said to pick him up, but I wasn¡¯t sure how I was supposed to get home now. It was late enough now that public transit had shut down and a taxi out to somewhere this remote was going to be expensive. I had plenty of cash on hand because of him, but I didn¡¯t want to waste so much of it so quickly. Jang Yun Seo took the keys and got out of the car so I followed his example, looking around the garage in awe at all the shiny polished vehicles and fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Everywhere a car to drive but none to take me home. ¡°Here,¡± he said, walking around the car to me without so much as a waver in his balance, his leather shoes clicking against the concrete with every step. He was holding out another key, this one to a BMW and I took it with a frown. ¡°You can take the one on the end,¡± he said nodding to an unassuming black car near the exit that looked more functional than beautiful but likely cost almost as much as the sportscar. ¡°I can¡¯t park that in my neighborhood,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Then leave it at the hotel. You have to pick up your bike anyway, right?¡± A laugh escaped my lips before I could catch it. ¡°In Ho said you¡¯d wrecked it. You must have gotten it fixed pretty quickly.¡± ¡°I got hurt more than the bike,¡± I admitted. He nodded thoughtfully, amusement still flickering in his eyes. ¡°Ri Sang Kyu, right? I think we¡¯re going to get along just fine.¡± Looking away from his intense gaze, I shrugged. ¡°I should be getting home.¡± ¡°See you tomorrow.¡± He turned away with a wave, and my eyes lingered on his back as he walked toward the house entrance, tracing the narrow cut of his hips and the proud angle of his shoulders. I found myself wanting to follow him for no reason I could explain. I¡¯d never felt that way about anyone before, like I was somehow diminished in his absence, the room emptier and darker without his larger-than-life presence filling all the space. An easy job, Park In Ho had called it. I wasn¡¯t sure how easy it would be in reality, but I knew I wanted it. Badly. 4 / Kindred Spirits Present Day, London I spent the next several days acting like a tourist. I went to the Tower of London, St. Paul¡¯s Cathedral and the British Museum. I sat in a park created from the ruins of an old church and watched models pose for a fashion shoot while searching on my phone for cheap flats to rent in the area, but nothing I found was quite right. Even though I had enough money to keep staying at the hotel, I¡¯d moved to a cheap hostel instead while I looked for something longer-term, knowing I could stay there as long as I needed ¨C or move on from the city entirely if nothing ever came together. I had learned to surrender myself to fate in this way as I traveled, keeping myself open to possibilities and waiting for my moment instead of trying to force a moment to happen simply to feel more secure. As the second day stretched on toward evening, I boarded a tour boat at Westminster and found a spot at the edge of the rooftop viewing platform while the guide shared facts about the city through a crackly speaker. Propping my chin in my palm, I leaned my elbow against the railing and looked out at the vista of buildings as we floated down the Thames. London looked much like any other city I had visited so far. The skyline had its own mix of history with modern marvels, but all cities of this scale and age seemed similar to me. Had I already been traveling long enough to be this disenchanted? Or had I simply lost the ability to notice the details that mattered? ¡°Hey! Good to see you again.¡± The voice was blunt with American vowels and demanded such attention that I turned to look at the speaker even though I was confident he was talking to someone else. But when I turned to look, I discovered he was staring directly right at me, dark eyes wide with delight as he flopped onto the bench right next to me as if we were friends. ¡°I keep seeing you everywhere I go today. It¡¯s like we¡¯re on a tour together!¡± Blinking in confusion, I tried to remember his unremarkable but kind features from any of the places I had gone, but he hadn¡¯t separated himself from the crowd of tourists with his backpack, cargo pants and sneakers, not to mention the prosumer camera hanging heavily around his neck. ¡°I¡¯m Mason,¡± he said with a grin, offering me a hand to shake. I stared at it for a moment too long and he retracted his hand with a little wave as if he hadn¡¯t actually been offering a handshake and wasn¡¯t reading anything into my lack of reaction. ¡°How long have you been in the UK?¡± I bristled a little at the suggestion that I stood out so much that I wouldn¡¯t seem like a native, but then I remembered that we were on a tour boat and I had apparently encountered Mason at several other tourist locations. ¡°A few days,¡± I admitted. Mason slapped me on the shoulder hard enough for me to recoil, but his enthusiasm and good will was so infectious that I was having hard time finding the gesture irritating in spite of my usual dislike for casual contact with strangers. ¡°Welcome to Great Britain, man! I¡¯ve been here six months but there¡¯s still so much I haven¡¯t seen yet. How¡¯re you liking it?¡± I shrugged, trying to think of anything from what I¡¯d experienced so far that left enough of an impact to be shared. When nothing but my encounter with the banshee came to mind, I said, ¡°I¡¯m still getting a feel for the place.¡± ¡°I hear ya. How long do you plan to stay? I could give you some tips if you¡¯re interested.¡± ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m good at finding my own way.¡± ¡°Understood. You gotta do you.¡± Balancing on the bench with his palms on either side of his hips, he leaned back and looked up at the dreary overcast sky. ¡°What a day.¡± Mason sucked in a deep breath through his nose and then slowly released it through his mouth with a sound of contentment as if they were experiencing cheery sunshine rather than more of the usual drizzly London weather. ¡°I thought the Tower of London was going to be a waste of time, but it was actually pretty cool, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°You said you¡¯ve been here six months?¡± I asked, hoping to redirect him. ¡°Yup. I¡¯ve been staying with a friend and taking in the local culture, but I need to get back home soon for my mom¡¯s birthday before I move on to my next destination.¡± I perked up, realizing that he must be a bit of a nomad like myself. ¡°Your next destination?¡± I echoed. ¡°Always something new to see, you know? I¡¯ve been traveling the world for a few years now. I make most of my income online through how-to videos with a little licensing money on the side.¡± He tapped the side of his camera. ¡°Stock photography.¡± Tilting his head to the side when I remained silent, he asked, ¡°What about you?¡± Feeling a little bad for considering Mason a typical tourist because of his camera when photography was obviously more than a way to fill a social media feed with photos to make friends and family jealous, I realized that Mason had actually found a way to make a living off his travels while I was still trying to figure out what to do with my time. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a job, actually. Something to offset expenses.¡± ¡°In between gigs?¡± I nodded but didn¡¯t offer any details. ¡°Been there, man. I used to be an accountant, if you can believe it. Pushing papers and playing human calculator. It paid well, but the job had no soul.¡± Thinking about my work for Yun Seo and the ways I¡¯d thought I was making a difference before I finally realized everything I¡¯d been doing was in service of a single man¡¯s revenge. ¡°Is that why you quit?¡± His smile faded a little bit around the edges, going hard with determination. ¡°No. My sister got really sick and nearly died a few years back. Made me realize that there¡¯s more to life than spreadsheets and sitting at a desk all day. Anyway, I¡¯d always wanted to travel but thought that was what I¡¯d do when I retired. When Madison got better, she and I decided not to live our lives that way. We want to see the world now while we still have the energy and freedom to put up with long-haul flights and stay in a place more than a couple weeks.¡± ¡°Makes sense to me.¡± His grin widened again and he gave me another slap on the arm. ¡°I knew you were going to be a kindred spirit from the first time I saw you, man. You¡¯ve got that aura.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure I knew what that meant, but Mason was pleasant enough company and he pointed out the sights with more colorful commentary than our bored tour guide. ¡°Where are you staying in the city?¡± Mason asked as we disembarked at the last stop on the line. ¡°Just some hostel while I look for something more permanent.¡± Straightening, Mason gave me a wide-eyed look as if I¡¯d just said something amazing. ¡°No shit! I¡¯m looking for someone to take over my sublease. Are you interested?¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± I said cautiously. ¡°What¡¯s the rent?¡± We discussed details and I was shocked to discover that the flat was not only easily within my budget, it was also located in Shoreditch, the place I¡¯d identified as a good place for me to stay. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Mason was someone who didn¡¯t like to take no for an answer, regardless. ¡°I¡¯m actually meeting up with my roommate after this. You should join and I¡¯ll introduce you.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to impose.¡± Mason laughed and slapped me again on the shoulder. ¡° What are you talking about, man? We¡¯re just meeting up at a pub.¡± I felt uneasy for no good reason. Then I realized I was resisting getting to know him better, not because I didn¡¯t want to know him, but because I didn¡¯t want to be known. Fighting that self-destructive instinct, I said. ¡°Okay.¡± We walked a few blocks to a busy pub that looked like it had survived a century or more sandwiched in between equally old buildings along the cramped street. Feeling very out of my element, I followed Mason¡¯s lead and settled into a booth with a pint of beer while I watched him sift through the items in his backpack in search of another memory card. ¡°I know it¡¯s in here somewhere,¡± he muttered, stacking junk on the table, half of which looked like trash that should have been thrown away. When he pulled out a familiar book, I stopped paying attention to anything else, reaching out to pick up the hardback before I realized what I was doing, my mouth going dry at the sight of the man on the cover. Jang Yun Seo stood tall with arms crossed over his chest and a smug smile, looking larger than life as if the book jacket could hardly contain him, his suit cut to fit his frame to perfection, every strand of hair expertly arranged. ¡°Found it!¡± Shooting me a grin as he lifted the tiny card aloft in victory, Mason¡¯s expression shifted when he noticed me holding the book. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s a good one. Have you read it?¡± I appreciated that he didn¡¯t assume I knew who Yun Seo was simply because we were both from the same country. ¡°No,¡± I admitted. ¡°But I recognize him.¡± I offered him the book, trying to ignore the way Yun Seo¡¯s eyes seemed to follow me all the way. Brushing invisible dust from the jacket, Mason gave Yun Seo a reverent look before shoving him back into his bag. ¡°This guy is a genius. He built a company from the ground up in record time and now his app is on every phone from here to Zimbabwe. His advice is what made me decide to take the risk of building my own business. You want to borrow it? It¡¯s a great read.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not much of a reader,¡± I replied, hoping Mason would let me leave it at that. Mason looked like he was going to say something more, but he got distracted when the bell on the door jangled to admit a tall, handsome man. Hurrying to clear the table, Mason gave the man a shout and a wave, oblivious to the irritated glances he earned from the other patrons. ¡°Thom! Over here.¡± A chill raced down my spine as soon as I met Thom¡¯s eyes and I knew immediately that despite his seemingly human appearance, he was not human. Was Britain saturated with Unseen? Or was I developing a knack for attracting them? Although I knew he was from the world of myth, I had no idea what he actually was, so I decided to play dumb. Tall and thin, Thom was dark in every sense of the word, skin, hair, clothing and an air of brooding that seemed darker than everything else combined. Other than a white streak in his hair that began at his left temple, his eyes were the only thing about him that was light, the irises a shade of hazel that shifted from green to gold in the light. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± Thom demanded, bristling when he reached the table and saw me. ¡°Maybe your new roommate,¡± Mason said brightly, either unaware of Thom¡¯s attitude or so accustomed to it that he had learned to ignore it. ¡°Thom, meet Sang Kyu. Sang Kyu, Thom.¡± Grimacing a little at how tone deaf Mason was to introduce a stranger as a possible roommate, I held out a hand toward Thom and summoned the charming smile Yun Seo had trained me to make when I was trying to win someone over. ¡°Nice to meet you,¡± I said, bowing my head politely. Thom glanced down at my hand and hesitated before reaching out to give it a firm but brief shake. His palm was cool and dry but his fingers were shockingly strong, his nails scraping slightly at my skin as we parted. Nudging Mason on the shoulder and taking a seat on the bench across from me, he looked as if he were positioning himself for a quick exit, his perch both uncomfortable and a little precarious. ¡°Let me guess,¡± he said dryly. ¡°You two just met, but Mason thinks you¡¯ll be the perfect replacement for him.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that, so I shifted my attention to Mason. ¡°Thom,¡± Mason said with a nervous laugh. ¡°You don¡¯t think I would try to match you up with just anyone, do you? Sang Kyu here is a good guy.¡± ¡°We did just meet,¡± I admitted, folding my hands on top of the table. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get to know each other a little bit before we talk about any possible living arrangements?¡± Thom remained silent, and Mason, as I was learning, was unable to do the same. He filled the quiet with stories, relaying what he¡¯d learned about me in our short time together with shocking accuracy. People who truly listened were hard to find, and I hadn¡¯t expected someone as bubbly as Mason to be one of them. Thom, on the other hand, immediately struck me as someone who missed nothing. He watched me closely as Mason rambled, and I met his eyes without flinching. ¡°What about you?¡± I asked Thom when Mason stopped speaking long enough to take a long draft from his beer. ¡°Mason mentioned you¡¯re an artist.¡± ¡°Thom is working on a huge mural in Shoreditch right now,¡± Mason jumped in before Thom could reply. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be amazing, like you¡¯re seeing right through the building. This absolutely fucking huge illusion the size of an apartment complex.¡± Shaking his head with a grin, Mason finished off his beer. ¡°Anyone want a refill?¡± I nodded at Mason, thinking that I could use any assistance I could get to make it through the rest of the conversation. ¡°Not for me,¡± Thom said. He had ordered some kind of exotic spirit on the rocks and he¡¯d been nursing it slowly as if savoring every sip. I couldn¡¯t read Thom¡¯s expression. He didn¡¯t say much, but his eyes were always watching, sharp and focused as if nothing passed his notice. When Mason got up to fetch our drinks, Thom slid to the other side of the bench, staring at me all the way. I finished my pint off and decided to make an honest attempt to connect with him, but he spoke before I could think of anything to say. ¡°You know what I am, don¡¯t you?¡± I shook my head slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t. Not exactly. But I know you¡¯re not human.¡± A faint smile curved his lips, and the subtle nature of it reminded me of Yun Seo. Never one to waste emotion, Yun Seo was often sparing with his expressions, sharing only hints of what he was feeling without giving too much away. ¡°But you are, aren¡¯t you? Human, I mean.¡± I nodded, afraid to say more for fear that he would jump to the wrong conclusions. His smile softened. ¡°Not many humans who can recognize the difference. Mason certainly can¡¯t.¡± Gaze flicking toward the bar, he rolled his eyes when Mason waved enthusiastically back at him. ¡°He¡¯s dumb, but in a kind way. You? I can¡¯t figure out what you¡¯re after.¡± He took a sip of his drink. ¡°I don¡¯t really know,¡± I said honestly. ¡°You could say that figuring out what I want is actually the thing I¡¯m after.¡± Eyes narrowing, Thom studied me silently. ¡°You¡¯ve lost yourself, then. I know something about that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ve ever found myself in the first place.¡± I took a shaky breath. ¡°I¡¯m good at supporting other people. At being what they need.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need anyone.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡­¡± I began, unsure how to finish the sentence, but Mason returned with our drinks and saved me from finishing. ¡°Can you believe that line?¡± Mason asked as he slid a pint toward me. ¡°This place is crazy busy for this time of day.¡± Taking a few swallows to soothe my dry throat, I avoided Thom¡¯s gaze and tried to think of a way to extricate myself from this situation. I wasn''t interested in getting more involved in Unseen affairs than I was already, and Thom clearly saw me as a threat, someone from the outside who knew about the world of myth without being a part of it. When I returned my attention to the conversation, I realized Mason was sharing a joke he¡¯d heard from the bartender, but he was the only one laughing. Thom was still staring unwaveringly at me like a predator who had identified its next prey. ¡°I should get going,¡± I said, fishing some bills from my wallet and tossing them on the table. ¡°It was nice meeting you both, but I think we all know this was a bad idea.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± Thom¡¯s hand darted out to cover my own, his head cocked curiously at me. ¡°I actually think you might be perfect.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Mason agreed, but I couldn¡¯t look away from Thom¡¯s eyes and barely noticed what he was saying, my attention entirely focused on a gaze that almost glowed in the dim light of the pub. ¡°We¡¯ve got a couch you could crash on until I leave town. Just test things out for a few days if you¡¯re afraid of commitment, but I think it¡¯s all going to work out great. I¡¯ve got a good feeling about you.¡± I was hypnotized as I leaned back in my seat and took another drink. I didn¡¯t know what Thom was, but he was compelling in a way I didn¡¯t know how to defend against. And on some level I was curious. I wanted to know what he was even if it turned out to be dangerous. I had clearly been living my life too safely of late because the faintest hint of danger was making me feel more alive than I¡¯d felt in months. Remembering that this kind of feeling was what had first drawn me to Yun Seo, I tried to tell myself to refuse, but then I heard myself say, ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll give it a try.¡± 5 // Attachments The Past, Seoul Chan Wook whistled when I walked into the kitchen wearing my new clothes, a fitted button-down and a charcoal suit. I¡¯d found it on a clearance rack at a department store, but it fit my lanky frame well enough. Even so, I knew I would get ridiculed by Jang Yun Seo as soon as I pulled up to his house just as I had almost every day for the last six months. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not working for the mafia?¡± Chan Wook asked as he offered me a plate of kimchi pancakes. He wasn¡¯t as good at cooking as mom had been, but he was getting better all the time, and more importantly he was far better at it than either dad or me. I rolled my eyes as I sat down at the table. ¡°Worse. He¡¯s the CEO of a startup.¡± Chan Wook laughed as he joined me with his own plate of pancakes. Tearing delicately into them with his chopsticks, he frowned at the way I shoveled food into my mouth without taking a breath. ¡°Do you even taste that before you swallow it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m late,¡± I replied around a mouthful of food, flicking through the messages on my phone in case I¡¯d missed a message from Yun Seo. Sighing, Chan Wook returned his attention to his breakfast. ¡°Dad¡¯s coming back today, isn¡¯t he? Are you picking him up at the airport?¡± I shook my head and regretted the action when it caused me to drop half of a pancake back to the plate. ¡°He¡¯s taking the train. Jang Yun Seo needs me to take him to a fundraiser tonight.¡± ¡°I take that to mean you won¡¯t be back for dinner?¡± Clearing my plate, I picked it up and carried it to the dishwasher, feeling Chan Wook¡¯s attention following me every step of the way. ¡°Probably not. Unless I get a break between his meetings and the fundraiser.¡± ¡°Dad¡¯s been gone for two weeks,¡± Chan Wook said, picking at his food now. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯d like to see you.¡± Turning around to face him, I realized that I was being callous. Chan Wook had always been better at this kind of thing than me and I felt guilty for lacking the instincts he seemed to have in abundance, especially when it came to my own family. Even if we didn¡¯t share the same blood, Chan Wook was as close to family now as he could get. He¡¯d even started calling my parents mom and dad a few years before mom died, mostly at her urging, and even if he was not technically their son, he had acted like more of a son to them both than I had in some ways. Perhaps it was because he¡¯d lost his own parents at such a young age, or maybe it was just that Chan Wook was different from me, more sensitive and emotionally available than I¡¯d ever known how to be. ¡°I¡¯ll come home for dinner,¡± I said finally. A smile broke over Chan Wook¡¯s face like the sun breaking through clouds, and I¡¯d never been able to see that smile without feeling one spring to my own lips. ¡°Good,¡± he said with a nod, and I knew I would do anything to avoid disappointing him, no matter how demanding Yun Seo was. Even before we became surrogate brothers, Chan Wook had been my shadow, following me around everywhere and demanding my attention. I protected him from bullies and he made me laugh when I had forgotten how, knowing exactly what to say or do to make me forget that anything was wrong, even on my worst days. As he grew up and became more independent, I realized that in some ways I¡¯d needed him as much as he had ever needed me, and now that he was on the cusp of adulthood I knew I would someday have to let him go so that he could become whatever he was meant to be without me. ¡°Am I not paying you enough?¡± Jang Yun Seo asked when I picked him up at his house. He was dressed in an expensive bespoke suit as always, the lines of which perfectly complimented his lean frame. His hair was swept back from his aristocratic features with an artistic flair and I wondered how he managed to make himself runway ready without a team of stylists in his own home, but I supposed anyone could learn such techniques with enough practice. Jang Yun Seo seemed like the type to think that sort of knowledge was necessary. I¡¯d stepped out of the car to wait for him while I sipped my morning coffee and took in the breathtaking view of the city from the mansion¡¯s front deck. Taking a sip of my coffee from my thermos, I winced a little at the flavor. Chan Wook was good at cooking almost anything, but his coffee left a lot to be desired, probably because he didn¡¯t care for the drink himself. I didn¡¯t mind since I was drinking it for the caffeine more than the flavor. ¡°You could pay me more,¡± I said to Yun Seo. Chuckling, Yun Seo joined me at the railing but kept a careful distance to avoid getting any dirt on his clothes. ¡°You would still settle for cheap clothing off the rack no matter how much I paid you, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± He reached out to adjust the lapel of my jacket, his fingers tracing a line down my chest that I could feel even through the thick fabric. Fighting the urge to shiver, I held myself still until he broke contact. Yun Seo either had a poor understanding of boundaries or intentionally enjoyed crossing them. I hadn¡¯t yet figured out which was the more likely explanation. He touched me far more than seemed normal for a boss with an employee, but none of his touches were blatantly inappropriate. What was worse was that I found myself craving the contact more than I should, and if it made me uncomfortable it was only because I had a hard time dismissing it as meaning nothing, wanting to read more into it even though I knew that getting involved romantically with my boss would be a horrible idea. Releasing the breath I¡¯d been holding, I said in as light of a tone as I could manage, ¡°Expensive clothing is wasted on me and I have better things to spend my money on.¡± He studied me with one of those long, searching gazes that always made me feel exposed and I turned toward the car to avoid meeting his eyes. ¡°Do you want me to take care of your family¡¯s debt?¡± I went still with my hand on the door of the car, my fingers trembling against the handle. ¡°I could, you know.¡± ¡°Then I would be in debt to you. I imagine In Ho would advise me against having my debt and my source of income all in one place,¡± I said, getting into the car while I spoke to give myself time to settle before he responded. I¡¯d gotten to know Park In Ho better over the last six months and learned that he was more than Jang Yun Seo¡¯s friend. He was also his company¡¯s lawyer. In spite of his loyalty to Yun Seo, I had the feeling that In Ho was always looking out for me. We¡¯d become friends of a sort as well even though I still didn¡¯t know what had happened to his wife and child. The loss still seemed too raw for a fledgling friendship, especially when I owed him so much. I couldn¡¯t possibly ask and he seemed unwilling to tell, but at least he seemed to be finding a way forward finally. He¡¯d gotten a haircut and was back to looking put together in a way that wasn¡¯t quite on the level of perfection that Yun Seo managed on a daily basis but was still more passable than my weak attempts. ¡°That¡¯s probably true,¡± Yun Seo admitted, walking around the car to slip into the back seat on the passenger side so that we could make eye contact through the rear view mirror. ¡°But I¡¯m still going to make an appointment for you with my tailor. Your appearance reflects on me and there will be times when I need you to look your best.¡± Deciding this was as good of a time as any to tell him about my dinner plans since Yun Seo would see it as an even exchange, my compliance with his request contingent on him complying with mine, I said, ¡°I need a few hours off before the fundraiser tonight. Your last appointment today is at three. I can take you back home and pick you up at six-thirty.¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. I could feel Yun Seo studying me again but I¡¯d learned to wait, allowing the silence to hang until he was ready to break it. ¡°Fine,¡± he said finally, but he didn¡¯t seem annoyed. In fact, he sounded pleased as if he was happy to see me pushing boundaries. The day passed quickly as I carted Yun Seo from appointment to appointment, each one in the same part of town, but the traffic and tangled streets of the city always complicated travel by car. Yun Seo would tap away on his laptop or take calls in between meetings, conducting business from the back seat to maximize his time. I still didn¡¯t fully understand what he did even though he¡¯d explained it a few times to me. All I knew was that his company was called Liminal and that they were working to launch an app that would revolutionize the social media landscape. I had no idea what that meant and I honestly doubted even Yun Seo knew the meaning of the marketing pitch. The substance of the pitch itself wasn¡¯t what mattered. The key was finding partners and investors interested enough to help get the app launched and running so that it could take on a life of its own. Yun Seo¡¯s sister was the real brains of the operation. She was the one who had developed the app and the infrastructure. He didn¡¯t need to understand how it all worked to sell it, although I suspected he understood more than he shared with anyone. I had texted my father that I¡¯d be picking him up at the airport after all but I think he probably expected me to be driving his car because he looked right past me when I pulled up to the curb. I had to step out of the car and give him a wave and a shout before he finally noticed me standing there, his eyes wide as he took in the svelte lines of the BMW. ¡°What have you been up to while I¡¯ve been gone?¡± he asked, rubbing at his glasses to clean them as I took his luggage and tucked it into the trunk. Blinking owlishly behind the lenses when he was finished, he shook his head. ¡°The car belongs to my boss,¡± I explained, gesturing impatiently for him to get in the car so we could get out of the way of the vehicles piling up behind us. ¡°He lets you drive it around when you¡¯re not with him?¡± my father asked incredulously as he settled in the plush leather seat uncomfortably as if afraid he would somehow damage it simply by sitting wrong. Yun Seo had never explicitly given me permission to drive his car around on personal errands, but I¡¯d stopped asking for permission for such things because he snapped impatiently at me every time I tried. I doubted he would mind anyway. Even though appearances were important to him, he seemed less attached to his wealth than any rich person I¡¯d ever met. He acted as if the act of appearing wealthy was the important part. Owning expensive things mattered less to him than using that wealth to get what he wanted from those who did care about it. ¡°How was your trip?¡± I asked as I pulled onto the highway and began the intricate dance of weaving through traffic on our way back to the city. ¡°Good,¡± dad said with a chirp, adjusting his glasses on his nose. I glanced at him and smiled at how stereotypical professor he looked at the moment with his sweater vest and satchel. ¡°I learned a lot about Spanish folklore and I even managed to confirm a few theories I¡¯ve had for many years. It¡¯s too bad that this compendium is for private collectors. The knowledge I¡¯m gathering should be shared with the public!¡± I nodded, my smile softening at how passionate he could be about such esoteric nonsense. He had been studying folklore traditions around the world since his undergraduate degree, but I¡¯d never understood why he cared so much about fantasy stories. The fact that he could make a living from such a thing was astounding to me and I thought he should be grateful for that more than anything rather than complaining that the only people willing to invest money in his research were private funders. Dad rambled for a while longer about his research while I drove, and I realized that I actually had missed him. Not just while he¡¯d been on his trip, but for much longer. He hadn¡¯t been himself for a long time, not since mom¡¯s diagnosis to be honest, but this grant project seemed to have returned him to himself in a way I hadn¡¯t experienced for many years. ¡°Who did you say is funding this grant again?¡± I asked, realizing that the question was borne from worry more than curiosity. Squinting at me in confusion, dad waved a hand through the air dismissively. ¡°Some collection of rich people with too much money. But I can¡¯t complain since they actually value this important work. They understand that there¡¯s no better way to understand a culture than through the stories they use to explain the world around them. They know that beliefs have power, and they can bring things into existence that you couldn¡¯t even imagine, Sang Kyu. The things I¡¯ve seen¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe.¡± He¡¯d said things like this before, but it had been a long time since he¡¯d said them with such confidence. Shaking my head, I decided to let the topic drop. Chan Wook had dinner on the table by the time we got home, a spread of traditional side dishes of the like that I hadn¡¯t seen on our dining room table since mom was healthy. How he had managed to make all of it during the hours I¡¯d been gone was unbelievable to me and I wondered if he¡¯d started earlier in the week and I¡¯d not noticed. I have been floating through the days a lot lately, Yun Seo¡¯s schedule kept me so busy that I had even less time some days than I¡¯d had when I worked multiple jobs. I let dad and Chan Wook do most of the talking while we ate, simply enjoying the flavor of the food and trying not to dwell in the memories it inspired, doing my best to remain present in the moment and the reality of our family as it existed today. I found out that Chan Wook had passed his most recent entrance exam with an impressive score. With this latest success, he would have his pick of elite universities to attend. This was a mixed blessing. Getting a degree from a prestigious institution would guarantee him a great job, but attending any school other than the one where dad worked would increase our debt exponentially. I could tell that dad and Chan Wook felt nothing but joy about his future, however, so I kept this reality to myself. As long as I kept this job with Yun Seo, I had a feeling everything would work out. Yun Seo¡¯s wealth would only grow if Liminal¡¯s app took off, and that meant my own earnings would likely increase as well. I wouldn¡¯t expect as much working for anyone else, but Yun Seo shared his money almost carelessly as if it meant nothing to him, and he¡¯d already been far more generous with me than I¡¯d ever expected. I just had to stay on his good side. I changed into my nicest sweater and slacks before picking Yun Seo up for the fundraiser, taking extra care in shaping my hair and getting a clean shave so that I would look as presentable as possible for the evening. Yun Seo gave me a critical look as he walked up to the car, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at my feet. ¡°Next time, polish your shoes,¡± he said with a faint smile as he brushed past me on his way to the door I had held open for him. Sighing, I closed the door more firmly than usual and caught a glimpse of his expression as I walked around the car, a flash of a smile that made me grind my teeth. The benefit was being held in the courtyard of an art museum, so there was plenty of parking and no need for a valet. Pulling into the line of fancy cars, I watched the procession of glittering dilettantes make their way up the red carpet to the museum entrance on the arms of dignified men in tuxedos, all of them beautiful and fake in a way that made me feel slightly nauseated. ¡°Keep your phone close,¡± Yun Seo said as we inched toward the drop off point and there was a tension in his voice I had rarely heard before. ¡°I might need to make a quick exit.¡± I glanced at him in the mirror. ¡°Are you expecting trouble?¡± A sour smile crossed his lips. ¡°This place is crawling with friends of my father.¡± He didn¡¯t need to elaborate for me to understand. Even though he¡¯d shared very little about his family, I knew his father was an invalid and that his current state was a relief to Yun Seo. They¡¯d never gotten along, and his father¡¯s friends were by default his enemies. I made a soft sound of acknowledgement, and somehow Yun Seo seemed to know what I was thinking and not saying. Chuckling softly, Yun Seo shook his head. ¡°Making an appearance is a requirement, but I will leave as soon as I can escape without causing a scene.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be on standby,¡± I said. Yun Seo drew a breath and released it slowly, leaning forward to grip my shoulder as I pulled up to the curb and put the car into park. ¡°Walk slowly,¡± he said before releasing me and I did as he asked, taking my time getting out of the car and walking around it to open the door for him. He straightened his jacket when he stood up and nodded at me before stepping onto the red carpet. I was amazed by how his demeanor changed between one step and the next, all trepidation and hesitation disappearing from his expression as he turned toward the crowd and the flashing cameras with a manufactured smile. I found myself once again wanting to follow him, to stand between him and his enemies and shield him with my own body even though the thought was ridiculous. He wasn¡¯t in any physical danger at the moment and I was his driver, not his bodyguard, but I felt protective of him in a way I knew I had no right to feel. Not after only three months working for him. I barely knew him, really, and yet I felt attached to him in a way I only felt about my family otherwise. It would take months before I realized that Yun Seo actually was in physical danger from his enemies, but by then I also understood that there was nothing I could do to protect him. 6 / Kimchi Pancakes Present Day, London I found a job at a bar that had been converted from an old pub into something trendy and modern and served overly complicated cocktails with pretentious names. I¡¯d been a bartender for a while before but I¡¯d never really known what I was doing so I had a hard time adapting to the upscale menu. Luckily, I had someone more experienced to be my guide. In spite of the venue¡¯s mystique, Lyla was utterly no nonsense, a veteran bartender who knew her stuff even though she seemed like the last person who would care about herbal infusions or bitters with exotic names. She drank her own bourbon straight, but she knew that there was money to be had from serving a young crowd with too much money and not enough sense. ¡°That is not how you muddle,¡± she scoffed when she saw me pummeling mint leaves into the bottom of a glass. ¡°Give that here.¡± She rocked the muddler in a fresh glass with elegant efficiency to show me how it was done. ¡°Just enough to release the oils on the leaves,¡± she explained. ¡°Got it,¡± I replied, mimicking her movements precisely. She gave me a grin that showed off a dimple, her nose ring flashing in the light as she nodded. ¡°You learn fast, K.¡± Why she had picked that letter out of my name to use as my nickname, I had no idea, but I hadn¡¯t bothered to correct her. Lyla was not the type of person to take correction lightly. I was the opposite, adept at learning partially because of the practice I¡¯d gotten with Yun Seo. Back then I¡¯d had to be a quick study or I wouldn¡¯t have survived long at his side. ¡°Now, just a dash of bitters.¡± She rolled her eyes when she saw my attempt. ¡°You call that a dash? Are you tenderizing steak? Here. Like this.¡± Her wrist flicked and I tried to follow her example, pleased to see that my movement had a similar effect on my own concoction. ¡°Very good. I¡¯ll make a bartender out of you yet!¡± Soon we were working together like clockwork, filling orders and raking in tips that got more outrageous the later the hour. I didn¡¯t mind taking the last shift and neither did Lyla, so we shut down the Goldcrest most nights and often walked back to our apartment building together after closing time. Lyla lived in the same building as Thom, and I had met her on the elevator the day I moved in, overhearing her conversation with a friend about a coworker who had just quit. Smiling at my luck, I mentioned to her that I was looking for a job and she said I could come along with her to work if I was interested. She looked skeptical, understandably so, but her boss was friendly and gave me a chance in spite of Lyla¡¯s reservations. I realized quickly that skepticism was a near constant state for Lyla since she kept everyone at arm''s-length until they gave her good reason to trust them. I wasn¡¯t sure if I had reached that level with her yet, but I was slowly getting there. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be able to protect you on the way home tonight,¡± Lyla said one day, a grin curling her lips as she unloaded the dishwasher behind the bar. Lyla had more mass than me and between her various scars and a full sleeve tattoo, she looked like the sort of person who didn¡¯t fear much. I, on the other hand, was tall but lean and had the look of someone who could be blown over by a stiff wind. In reality, I had seen my share of scrapes and could hold my own in a fight, but Lyla liked to tease me about my skinny ass and long, delicate fingers as if these characteristics made me unlikely to defend myself. ¡°What¡¯s the reason for leaving me so vulnerable?¡± I asked with feigned offense. ¡°What if I get mugged?¡± ¡°Who would mug you? You look like you¡¯ve got all of 5 pounds to your name.¡± She grinned proudly as she added, ¡°And I have a very good reason. I¡¯ve got a date!¡± I laughed. ¡°A date? At this hour? Are you sure it isn¡¯t just a hookup?¡± ¡°Call it what you like,¡± she replied, giving me a punch in the arm that landed hard enough for me to feel a shock of pain. ¡°Either way, I¡¯m getting some tonight. Don¡¯t be too jealous.¡± ¡°Good for you,¡± I replied genuinely. I had avoided any casual hookups since my night with Ian, deciding a dry spell would probably do me good. Sex was a distraction at the best of times, and I was already too good at finding ways to distract myself these days. I let Lyla leave early and took over her share of the chores in closing down the bar, taking the trash out to the alley and bringing all of the half-drunk bottles of beer to the basement for the resident biersal to clean up. The owner pled ignorance when I mentioned the house spirit, but based on the gleam in his eye and the fact that he occasionally left beer at the foot of the stairs himself, he knew what Hadley was. Hadley rarely came out of hiding, but he seemed to recognize me as someone who was safe to interact with, so he came out for a chat whenever I brought him the leftovers from my shift. According to his meandering stories, the biersal had lived in the basement of the pub since long before it was converted into the Goldcrest, and he kept the cellars nice and tidy in exchange for his share of beer. ¡°The fiery vixen isn¡¯t with you tonight, is she, laddie?¡± Hadley asked as I arranged the bottles on the bottom step, creeping closer while maintaining his distance like a skittish animal that wanted a treat but wasn¡¯t willing to take unnecessary risks. Assuming he meant Lyla with her bright red hair and air of violence, I replied, ¡°She has a date.¡± ¡°Ah, a date!¡± As soon as I set the last bottle down and retreated to the middle of the stairs to sit down, the biersal moved quickly from his hiding place behind a rack of barrels and began slurping down the beer one bottle at a time, tossing the empties neatly in a nearby crate of recycling. ¡°I thought she might finally take up with you if you got your act together,¡± he said, pausing before taking the last bottle. ¡°Guess you¡¯re still working on that act, huh?¡± ¡°Me?¡± I laughed, wiping my hands off on my apron. ¡°I¡¯m not Lyla¡¯s type regardless of my act.¡± Hadley frowned at me, but seemed interested only as long as the beer lasted. ¡°Well, good luck with that,¡± he replied, backing into the darkness beyond the stairs. ¡°See you tomorrow night, laddie.¡± The evening felt colder than I¡¯d expected when I finally stepped outside and I huddled in my light jacket for warmth, walking quickly down the dark streets and keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me. Looking up when I heard a clatter on a nearby roof, I stopped in my tracks at the sight of a hooded figure hanging from a billboard on a nearby building. The sign advertised something called Walden Construction and depicted a smiling middle-aged man with his arms crossed over his chest standing in front of a row of shiny, high-rise apartments. ¡°Let¡¯s make our city beautiful,¡± read the headline, but the hooded figure was spraying lines over the words to make it read, ¡°Let¡¯s ruin our city,¡± instead. They scrawled x marks across the smiling man¡¯s eyes and drew a forked tongue unfurling from his mouth before finishing with a little signature next to the destructive art, a crown with a cat¡¯s nose and whiskers beneath. ¡°Hey,¡± I shouted at the figure and he flinched, hopping down to the nearest rooftop and taking off at a run. He was nimble and fast, hopping from roof to roof like some sort of parkour artist and I soon lost sight of him. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Sighing, I resumed my journey with a shrug. I had seen fences around several sites in the neighborhood emblazoned with the Walden Construction logo, so I knew they were one of the companies responsible for knocking down older buildings and erecting modern eyesores in their place, capitalizing on the popularity of the area to build expensive apartments that would further push the current inhabitants out. The apartment I shared with Thom was in a building that had been converted from an old warehouse and retained many elements of the original structure, from the stained brick walls to the oversized window frames. The windows themselves had been upgraded, but the style and shape of the panes looked authentic. The rawness of the style had immediately appealed to me, and I¡¯d known after my first night in the cramped apartment that I was going to sign the sublease in spite of my reservations about Thom. There was something homey about the space in spite of the modern decor that Thom preferred, and it was a convenient launching place for my life in the city. I wasn¡¯t surprised to find the apartment empty now in spite of the late hour. Thom kept to himself most of the time, his hours as off kilter as my own even though his day job didn¡¯t have set hours. Painting murals on the side of buildings was an activity that required sunlight typically, but he also painted murals inside and worked whenever the inspiration struck. I was learning that mural painting was in high demand since Thom was booked with work for months in advance. I heard the front door open as I stepped out of my bathroom fresh from a shower. Peeking my head out of my bedroom, I saw Thom slink into the kitchen and pull a carton of milk out of the refrigerator, taking a few swallows straight from the container. He looked fresh from a run, dressed in a dark pair of joggers and a hoodie, his forehead damp with sweat, and for a moment I wondered. Had it been Thom on that rooftop I saw earlier? He was a muralist. It wasn¡¯t much of a stretch to imagine he might be a graffiti artist as well. ¡°Evening,¡± I said, trying not to let my suspicion show. ¡°Odd time to workout.¡± ¡°Is it?¡± he asked, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand and giving me a look that made a full appraisal of my bare chest and legs, his gaze snagging on the knot of the towel wrapped around my hips before returning to my eyes. ¡°I like a late night run. It¡¯s bracing.¡± I shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. This wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d caught Thom looking at me that way, but Thom had a way of being intense and attentive regardless of the situation so I hadn¡¯t thought much of his behavior until now. This was also the first time I¡¯d walked around the apartment barely dressed, however, so maybe that had something to do with it. Even if I did find Thom attractive, I really wasn¡¯t interested in starting anything with anyone at the moment, especially with a roommate. If things went south, then I would be out of a place to stay. ¡°Well, I suppose I can¡¯t argue with that,¡± I said finally, waving a hand at him. ¡°Night.¡± I could feel the weight of those hazel eyes watching as I walked away, and I had a hard time getting to sleep that night, tossing and turning until I finally gave into the itch under my skin and took the edge off my body¡¯s interest, doing my best not to think of a haunting gaze or the way droplets of sweat had rolled enticingly over dark skin. I decided to make myself breakfast when I rolled out of bed around noon the next day. Cooking was not something I enjoyed, but I¡¯d bought some ingredients at the market earlier in the week that were only going to go bad if I didn¡¯t use them. I had been building up my courage to try every time I opened the refrigerator and saw them on the mostly empty shelves. My father had been a horrible cook as well, so after my mother died my younger brother took over most of the cooking. His delicious food haunted my memories and I found myself craving the flavors after months of eating whatever cuisine was most popular in the region I was traveling through. I didn¡¯t know many recipes, but my father had been the one to teach me how to make kimchi pancakes, so I felt confident I could manage that much. Thom emerged from his bedroom as I nudged the pancake out of the pan and onto a plate, staring at me with half-lidded eyes and messy hair. He looked first at the food on my plate and then back up at me, looking sleepy and effortlessly sexy in a way that made me remind myself firmly of all the reasons why hooking up with my roommate would be a terrible idea. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°A pancake. Do you want one? I have enough ingredients to make another one.¡± Nose wrinkling, he walked over to the kitchen island and leaned closer, peering down at my creation with skepticism. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and boxers and showing off more muscle tone than I had expected to find under his usually baggy clothes. ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡± he asked. ¡°Egg, flour, chives,¡± I replied, tearing off a little piece of the pancake with my chopsticks and offering it to him. ¡°Kimchi, obviously.¡± Looking even more skeptical, Thom leaned further over the counter to take a delicate bite off my chopsticks, his expression twisting with distaste as he chewed and swallowed. ¡°That¡¯s vile.¡± I shrugged, unable to hide my smile. I¡¯d expected that sort of a reaction from someone who ate mostly meat, fish and bland staples. ¡°More for me, then.¡± I popped a bite into my mouth and tried not to cringe at the burnt taste around the edges. The flavor was closer to what I remembered from my father¡¯s poor cooking than I had intended, but it only made me ache at the memory. ¡°See? It¡¯s even making you sad,¡± Thom said dryly, pushing past me to reach the refrigerator, our arms brushing against each other in a way that seemed unnecessary, as if he had intentionally leaned in my direction as he pulled a bottle of water and a cup of yogurt out of the refrigerator before letting the door sway shut behind him. I took a shaky breath and tore off another piece, my throat so thick that swallowing each bite felt a little painful. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± Thom pulled the top off the yogurt and licked it clean. I had paused with another piece of pancake held up to my mouth to stare at the way his limber tongue moved over the foil. ¡°Why would you eat it if it¡¯s that bad?¡± ¡°The taste isn¡¯t the problem,¡± I replied, lowering the pancake to the plate and dragging my attention away from his lips as he took a bite of yogurt in an equally provocative manner. ¡°My dad used to make this recipe when I was young. The taste reminds me of him.¡± A soft smile tugged at Thom¡¯s lips, the gentlest expression I¡¯d seen him make. ¡°That¡¯s sweet.¡± I scoffed, and stuffed my mouth full of pancake. ¡°It is,¡± Thom insisted, leaning an elbow on the counter and putting himself into the path of my gaze again. ¡°I don¡¯t remember much about my own parents, so it¡¯s hard for me to relate, but I think it¡¯s nice that you have such fond memories of growing up.¡± Shaking my head, I stabbed at the remaining pancake with my chopsticks. ¡°I have a few.¡± ¡°Just a few?¡± I didn¡¯t reply, finishing off the pancake in a few more efficient bites. Tossing the plate into the sink with the dirty pan, I ran some water to clean the dishes, knowing Thom would be annoyed if I left them unwashed. He kept the apartment pristine and I¡¯d seen the way he looked at Mason¡¯s inevitable messes as if they physically caused him pain. I¡¯d had a lot of cleaning to do when Mason left but I found that Thom was as meticulous in his housekeeping as I tended to be and the second bedroom and bath had contained most of the results of Mason¡¯s stereotypical bachelor lifestyle. Mason was lucky he was so endearing or I might have been bitter about having to clean up after him. ¡°What are you doing today?¡± Thom asked, and I glanced over my shoulder at him in surprise. He¡¯d never asked me a question like that before, both of us passing through each other¡¯s lives without making contact most of the time. ¡°I have to work tonight, but I thought I might wander around a bit until then.¡± ¡°Do you want to see the mural I¡¯m working on? It¡¯s almost done.¡± I stared at him a while before responding, suspicious of the offer for no good reason. ¡°Sure,¡± I said reluctantly. ¡°Smashing. I¡¯ll just get dressed and we can go.¡± His hazel eyes lingered on me as he backed toward his bedroom, only breaking our gaze when he had to turn away. Sighing, I leaned against the counter and stared into the soapy water in search of answers I knew I wouldn¡¯t find. I still hadn¡¯t figured out Thom¡¯s connection to the world of folklore yet, but there was definitely something about him that was compelling in a way that wasn¡¯t entirely human. Every time he caught me in his gaze like that I felt like I was being hunted by a predator that could see all of my weaknesses at a glance. And yet I had no objective reason to fear Thom. He¡¯d yet to do anything threatening or make me feel unwelcome in his apartment, but there was still something otherworldly about him that set off alarm bells in my head every time he got close. The feeling was entirely too familiar, and I knew better than to find it as tempting as I once had. 7 // Siblings The Past, Seoul I found Chan Wook sitting on the patio one night, textbooks scattered around him, his chin about to fall off his hand as he stared at an empty notebook. Grabbing his favorite soda from the fridge, I joined him outside and nudged books aside to carve out a place to sit beside him. ¡°How¡¯s school going?¡± I asked as I offered him the drink. Lifting his head, he looked lost in thought for a moment before his eyes caught on the bottle and went wide with delight, a weary smile warming his features as he reached for it. ¡°Grueling,¡± he replied after taking his first sip. ¡°I thought studying for the entrance exams was a lot of work, but the pace has been relentless.¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s because you¡¯re taking classes above your level,¡± I pointed out. ¡°I tested into them,¡± he protested with a wounded look in his eyes. I sighed. ¡°I know. I know.¡± Looking down at one of the textbooks, I tried to decipher the code on the page but gave up quickly. ¡°I just hoped that you would be able to enjoy school more. This is your last gasp of freedom before adulthood and a career gobble it up. You should make time to enjoy yourself along the way.¡± Chan Wook rolled his eyes and gave my shoulder a playful shove. ¡°Like you have? You skipped it and immediately started working yourself to death.¡± ¡°I did,¡± I agreed, biting back the retort I wanted to say, that I had done it all for him, so that he could have the experience I wouldn¡¯t get. But the choice had been mine alone and I couldn¡¯t put that kind of pressure on him when he¡¯d never asked me to do it. ¡°Do you have the night off, or are you going to have to head out again?¡± Lifting the beer I had grabbed for myself when I got his soda, I shook my head. ¡°I have the evening to myself for once.¡± ¡°Yourself?¡± Chan Wook made a face. ¡°I¡¯m here, too. We should do something fun together!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you need to study?¡± Slapping the book in front of him shut, he pronounced, ¡°I¡¯ve studied enough. What do you want to do?¡± I had a hard time arguing with that look on his face. I¡¯d always been weak to it, ever since we were simply neighbor kids and he¡¯d asked to borrow a toy. I took another sip of beer. ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t want to do anything but be lazy tonight. I don¡¯t want to go out and I definitely don¡¯t want to drive anywhere.¡± ¡°That still sounds nice,¡± he said, shifting books out of the way so he could scoot closer to me. ¡°We could watch a movie and eat junk food like we did when we were little.¡± He leaned into me with a smile even stickier than the humid evening air, and I felt the heat of his arm against my own like a flame against my skin. ¡°Or we could play Go-Stop! I¡¯ve improved my game since the last time we played.¡± I thought about how good he¡¯d been before and how I¡¯d had to cheat a little to retain the upper hand. He would win easily against me now, and even if he didn¡¯t manage it on his own I would probably let him win. ¡°Are you sure you want to test me?¡± I asked, hiding my smile as I took another drink of beer. ¡°I do,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t care if I¡¯m winning if I¡¯m playing with you.¡± I froze, trying to figure out how to respond to a statement like that. Chan Wook had always been impractically sentimental, so his statement could mean nothing more than brotherly affection, but brothers didn¡¯t act like that, did they? Brothers fought for dominance. They were competitive and willing to use any leverage they had to come out on top. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I was grateful for the excuse to remain silent. The text was simple, only three words. Come get me. Normally I would groan at getting called to work on the first evening I¡¯d had off in weeks, but I never felt as annoyed by the extra work for Yun Seo as I probably should have. ¡°No.¡± Chan Wook groaned. ¡°Tell me it isn¡¯t your devil boss.¡± ¡°Devil boss?¡± I arched an eyebrow at him. ¡°He¡¯s so demanding. He works you like a slave.¡± I laughed. ¡°The job isn¡¯t that much work. In fact it¡¯s far easier than most of the jobs I¡¯ve had.¡± Texting Yun Seo back to ask where he was, I was shocked by the response. I think someone spiked my drink. Then he sent me the address of a bar in Songpa. Come quickly before someone figures out how far gone I am. My fingers trembled as I typed out a quick response to let him know I was on my way, my imagination giving me far too many unhelpful images to go with his words for me to process. I imagined him half drunk on a stool, his cheeks flushed pink and his lips bitten red, and I wondered how I was going to get him to the car without causing a scene ¨C or crossing a line Yun Seo had never given me permission to cross. He was my boss, I reminded myself. No matter what state I found him in, I had to keep him at arm¡¯s length. This was the best job I¡¯d ever had and I refused to ruin it over something as stupid as hormones. ¡°I have to go,¡± I said, already rising to my feet. ¡°Tell him you¡¯re busy,¡± Chan Wook insisted. ¡°That you¡¯ve been drinking and can¡¯t drive.¡± ¡°I only had two sips,¡± I replied, backing my way toward the kitchen so I could show him my can of beer as if he could tell how full it was from the outside. ¡°Hyung!¡± Chan Wook said in frustration, grabbing at the can. I let him take it. ¡°Finish it if you want,¡± I told him. ¡°You¡¯re far too responsible for your own good.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± he said with a glance at the can. He was still underage, but only barely. I¡¯d started drinking with older friends by his age, but Chan Wook was responsible in ways I¡¯d never been. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m giving you permission. Enjoy yourself for once!¡± ¡°What¡¯s the point of drinking at home when you¡¯re alone?¡± Relieved that he hadn¡¯t reached a point of frustration in his life where that kind of thing was appealing, I waved at him over my shoulder as I slipped on my shoes. ¡°Put it back in the fridge if you don¡¯t want it. I¡¯ll probably need a drink by the time I get home.¡± I wasn¡¯t dressed for a party, but I was presentable enough for a bar, even if it was the kind of swanky place Yun Seo would patronize. Rich people liked to dress down at places like that to show off that they could dress however they liked as long as they had money to spend. I drove past the bar twice before I realized that it was one of those trendy hidden bars and that the entrance looked more like a shrine than a door. Parking the car and walking my way through the narrow streets to the address, I frowned at the framed artwork in the middle of the alcove that marked the entrance, an illustration depicting young man with a bindle and a dog on a leash looking over his shoulder without realizing he was about to step off a cliff. A title at the bottom of the frame read: The Fool. I moved closer when I saw a couple push the entire back wall of the alcove inward and walk through it, the bar beyond glimmering with crimson and gold light. I followed them inside and pushed the moveable wall shut behind me, pausing to get my bearings in the strange space. The walls were painted black and the tables were arranged within larger nooks around the room, each containing a similar painting to the one I¡¯d seen on the outside, illustrations rich with symbolism and labeled with cryptic words. As if he¡¯d seen me enter, Yun Seo sent me another text. I¡¯m at the Hermit table. I rolled my eyes, thinking that sounded like an appropriate place for him to be and wondering if he¡¯d requested the table specifically. In the year I¡¯d been working for him now, I¡¯d never seen Yun Seo relax with friends. In Ho was the closest thing he had to a friend as far as I could tell, and Yun Seo basically paid the lawyer to hang out with him. What free time he allowed himself, Yun Seo used to cozy up to influential patrons or be seen as someone important by the elite. I didn¡¯t have a lot of friends myself, but I still had connections from my previous jobs and a few buddies from high school that I kept in touch with. I wasn¡¯t sure Yun Seo had anyone. Other than his sister, I supposed, but I¡¯d never really met her. She¡¯d been standing in the doorway a few times when I arrived at the mansion to pick up Yun Seo, but she¡¯d worn sunglasses and a shapeless, oversized hoodie and leggings like an incognito celebrity. Even though I had heard that she was the brains behind Liminal¡¯s soon to be published app, she worked from home and rarely even stepped outside if the flashes of pale skin revealed by gaps in her clothing could be trusted. From what little I know about the inner workings of the company, Yun Seo¡¯s sister was something of a recluse and left her brother to handle all the social requirements of their work. The rumor was that most of the employees had never even met her before. The bar was crowded with young, hip people ¨C not the sort of crowd I would have expected Yun Seo to favor, but perhaps he¡¯d been looking to finally cut loose. Maybe he¡¯d even been hoping to find someone to hook up with. The thought made me uncomfortable although that kind of behavior would actually explain a lot about how Yun Seo managed to keep himself so completely under control the rest of the time. No one could keep themselves wound as tight as he did without eventually exploding, so it made sense that he had to have methods for letting off steam. Going to a club and finding casual partners was not the way I would have expected him to relieve the pressure, but Yun Seo was still a mystery to me in many ways. Skirting the crowd, I followed a path around the perimeter of the restaurant, glancing into alcoves at the framed art along the way. The imagery and labels were all vaguely familiar, but I wasn¡¯t really sure why. I thought they might be some kind of occult thing from the West, but I didn¡¯t care enough to give it more thought than that. Eventually I came to the ninth table around the room and noticed a man in a hooded cloak in the drawing above the table. The wizened figure held a lantern aloft but the light barely illuminated the darkness around him. After verifying that the painting was labeled as the Hermit, I shifted my attention to the booth and was startled to find a young woman seated there instead of Yun Seo. She gazed at me with big dark eyes and a slow, satisfied smile as if she¡¯d been waiting for me, but that couldn¡¯t be right. Unless¡­ If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Sorry,¡± I said as I backed away from the table with my hands outstretched. ¡°I¡¯m looking for someone else.¡± She held up a phone, tapping the surface to light up a text string that looked identical to the one I¡¯d been exchanging with Yun Seo. ¡°I know,¡± she said loftily. ¡°Have a seat.¡± Studying her more closely, I realized that she bore more than a passing resemblance to Yun Seo between her angular features and penetrating stare. She was pretty, but young, at least a few years younger than me. Her hair was long and straight as an arrow, falling over her shoulders and obscuring half of her face in the dim light. ¡°Oh, sit down,¡± she said with a familiar sort of impatience that made me think of Yun Seo once again. ¡°I¡¯m not going to bite.¡± I released the breath I was holding and slid onto the bench across from her, holding myself braced for a quick exit even though I could tell just by looking at her that she wouldn¡¯t be much of a physical threat. ¡°Jang Na Rae?¡± I asked softly, making an educated guess. She nodded. ¡°Smart enough to figure out that much, at least.¡± ¡°Did you steal your brother¡¯s phone?¡± Laughing suddenly, she ruined her enigmatic air with a snort. ¡°Of course not.¡± ¡°Then how did you text me from his number?¡± Folding her hands on top of the table, she leaned forward, and as her hair swayed away from her face I saw the burn scars on her left cheek, red welts that traced an ugly line from her forehead to her collarbone and disfigured her left ear. ¡°I¡¯m a genius with computers,¡± she said succinctly. For some reason I felt like being stubborn, so embarrassed by being tricked that I resorted to defensiveness. ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡± ¡°Phones are basically computers that fit into your pocket,¡± she continued in a tone that reminded me once again of her brother at his most arrogant. ¡°All I had to do was load a little code onto your phone to hijack his communications with you.¡± ¡°You hacked my phone?¡± I asked, furious now. She shook her head with a scoff. ¡°That¡¯s such an exaggeration. It took all of five seconds while you were waiting around in the driveway doing nothing. In fact, you clicked the link to download the malicious code yourself.¡± I blinked at her in confusion. ¡°I hid it in a pop up on that lewd website you were browsing while you waited for Yun Seo.¡± She reached for a blue drink in a martini glass that practically glowed in the darkness as if it were radioactive and took a thoughtful sip. ¡°You really should be more careful. Hackers are everywhere.¡± I was suddenly grateful for the darkness of the bar because I felt flushed, half from embarrassment and half from anger. I remembered that day. One of my friends had sent me a link as a joke that took me to a porn site for a fetish that did absolutely nothing for me. I had foolishly clicked on it and gotten an eyeful of photos that lingered with me uneasily the rest of the day. What was worse was that the video at the top of the page had been a pair of men in a workplace with the employee satisfying his boss after hours. The executive in the video¡¯s thumbnail looked nothing like Yun Seo physically, but the heat in his eyes as he stared down at his employee was exactly the same. ¡°Why am I here?¡± I asked, my teeth grinding against each other. ¡°I wanted to meet you.¡± Before I could react, a waiter paused next to their table and delivered a drink. It looked less like the fanciful cocktail Na Rae was drinking and more like the kind of drink I generally preferred, something golden on the rocks garnished with a slice of orange. Smoke filled the glass, rising slowly as the waiter removed a wooden lid and backed away. ¡°You ordered for me?¡± I asked ¡°Old fashioned,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°I found it on your credit card receipts from when you went out with friends.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an invasion of privacy!¡± ¡°Oh just give it a try,¡± she replied with a sweet smile. ¡°They infuse it with hickory smoke here. You should take a drink before it settles.¡± As irritated as I was, I had to admit I was also intrigued. The smoke changed the flavor of the drink, making it richer and bringing out flavors in the whiskey I had never noticed before. ¡°So,¡± she said, tapping a black painted fingernail against the lacquered table. ¡°Let¡¯s get started, shall we? How did you meet my brother?¡± I stared at her for a moment while I savored my drink, trying to find my balance again. ¡°Don¡¯t you know already?¡± I asked, keeping my tone light. ¡°Haven¡¯t you hacked a CCTV camera or something to figure it out? Or, you know, actually asked your brother?¡± She laughed, and there was something bright and joyful about the sound that surprised me. From the brief glimpses I¡¯d had of her, I¡¯d expected her to be moody and morose. ¡°That would be a complete waste of time,¡± she said. ¡°Yun Seo never tells me anything.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Eyes narrowing, she took another sip of her drink before returning it delicately to the table. ¡°He says it¡¯s for my own protection, but I know it¡¯s because he prefers to be in control. I let him think he is. Most of the time.¡± Folding her hands on top of the table, she leaned forward again. ¡°So, how did you meet?¡± ¡°Through a friend.¡± ¡°A friend?¡± She chuckled and covered her mouth with a hand. ¡°Yun Seo doesn¡¯t have friends.¡± ¡°A colleague, then.¡± ¡°You¡¯re being awfully cagey for someone who has nothing to hide.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to hide,¡± I said firmly, ¡°And I¡¯m being careful because I¡¯m dealing with a criminal who hacks people¡¯s phones and accounts.¡± She sighed with a little pout. ¡°Fair enough, but we¡¯re never going to get anywhere this way.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± taking another swallow of smoke and bittersweet burn, I waited, letting the liquid roll around in my mouth a bit before swallowing. ¡°Why do you want to know anything about me at all?¡± I asked finally. ¡°I¡¯m no one. I just drive him around.¡± ¡°You do more than that. He sends you on errands and asks you to keep an eye on people.¡± I focused on her again with a frown, wondering how she knew anything about the little off-the-books tasks Yun Seo had started giving me lately, to keep tabs on the CEO of a rival company and find out who they met with and how frequently or to follow a socialite who had been demanding more and more of Yun Seo¡¯s time to see if she was working with anyone else. I didn¡¯t mind the covert assignments. In fact, I found them thrilling, not only because they seemed like the sort of work a spy would be assigned to do but also because they meant Yun Seo trusted me enough to give such sensitive tasks to me. ¡°He¡¯s using you.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure I could argue that point. Of course Yun Seo was using me. In Ho had said the same thing to me when he found out that Yun Seo was paying me on the side instead of making me an employee of his company. Furious that Yun Seo would do such a thing, In Ho tried to explain to me that he must be keeping me off the books for a reason. It would be easier to fire me that way and he could cheat me out of benefits and appropriate compensation, but I didn¡¯t feel cheated. Yun Seo paid me generously, more than enough to cover any other expenses I had and to pay down my family¡¯s debt significantly. Besides, I liked the idea of belonging to Yun Seo alone, even if it was obvious to me how problematic that was. ¡°You don¡¯t care if you¡¯re being used, do you?¡± she asked, seeing right through me. She rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve fallen under his spell, just like everyone else.¡± I realized that she was disappointed, as if she¡¯d expected to find a kindred spirit in me, someone who would align with her in her frustration with Yun Seo. I¡¯d heard only bits and pieces about Na Rae from her brother, but it had been clear to me that he admired her and wanted to protect her, doing what he could to accommodate her eccentricities while giving her the opportunity to pursue her dreams. She was almost a decade younger than Yun Seo, so their sibling dynamic had likely been a bit askew from the start, but now I wondered if more was going on than Yun Seo had ever shared. Na Rae¡¯s scars were obviously something she was self-conscious about since she covered them with her hair and intentionally kept her head tilted so that they would always be hidden by shadow. Did she avoid going out in public because of them? Surely they had enough money for plastic surgery to be an option, but she¡¯d chosen not to pursue it and kept herself hidden away. I strongly suspected she¡¯d gotten them in the fire. I¡¯d heard about it from In Ho, that the entire estate had burned to the ground and several people had died. By some miracle, Yun Seo and his sister had survived, but their father had been confined to a wheelchair because of his injuries and suffered a stroke shortly afterward. After that, Yun Seo built a new, modern mansion on the property and began his pursuit of greatness by founding Liminal. ¡°What exactly are you trying to do here, Na Rae?¡± I straightened at the sound of the voice, turning to see Yun Seo himself step out of the crowd and walk up to our table, his expression grim as he focused on his sister. He was dressed more casually than I¡¯d ever seen him in a black button-down shirt and jeans, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair falling into his eyes, long enough to shadow his face and soften the harsh angles enough to make him look years younger. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him, my gaze catching at the triangle of pale skin revealed by the open button at the top of his shirt, but I tore my gaze away before my body could get any inconvenient ideas. I¡¯d assumed that Yun Seo was the type who had learned how to look his best while dressed up, but to my dismay, he looked even better dressed down. I could only count my blessings that I wouldn¡¯t have many opportunities to see him this way. ¡°I¡¯m on a date,¡± Na Rae said with a smirk, crossing her legs as she turned to face him. ¡°Has it been so long that you don¡¯t know what one looks like?¡± She reached across the table to grab my hand where it was resting beside my drink, digging black fingernails into my skin in a silent plea for my cooperation. Yun Seo glanced at our hands on the table and then up at my face, and I couldn¡¯t endure the intensity of his gaze for long before I had to look away. He was angry ¨C angrier than I¡¯d ever seen him. ¡°Did you trick him into meeting you here?¡± Yun Seo asked as he returned his attention to Na Rae, and I was relieved that he trusted me so much that he questioned her rather than doubting my loyalty. ¡°Our eyes met one day across the driveway and we just knew that it was meant to be. Isn¡¯t that right, oppa?¡± I winced and pulled my hand out of her grip. ¡°Na Rae,¡± Yun Seo said through a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, ¡°we¡¯ve talked about this. I know you get bored in the house. If you want to go out, I can arrange it for you, but you can¡¯t just trick people into meeting with you.¡± Sliding out of the booth and standing up, she stepped in front of Yun Seo with outrage in her eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t tell me what to do,¡± she said, sounding like a petulant child as she propped her hands on her hips and glared up at him from her lesser height. She was wearing a black shift dress with long sleeves, but I could see more scar tissue peeking out from beneath her left sleeve. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Yun Seo replied steadily, ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯m only asking that you find your own companions rather than try to steal mine.¡± She glanced at me briefly. ¡°Companions?¡± she asked with a challenge in her voice. ¡°Is that what you call them? How much extra do you pay them for that service?¡± ¡°Na Rae!¡± I decided that I wanted nothing more to do with this, feeling embarrassed all over again that I had fallen into Na Rae¡¯s trap and irritated that they were both acting like I wasn¡¯t there. ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± I said, wondering if they would even notice my absence. Yun Seo caught me by the arm before I could escape, his grip firm and unforgiving. ¡°Are you okay?¡± The question caught me off guard. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I replied uncertainly, surprised by the seemingly authentic concern in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll call you later, love,¡± Na Rae told me with exaggerated cheer. ¡°This time from my own number.¡± Yun Seo ignored her. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you extra for your trouble,¡± he murmured to me. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that,¡± I said, but he gripped my arm harder, his fingers so tight against my skin that I suspected they would leave marks behind. ¡°Yes, I do,¡± he said before releasing me and turning back to face his sister. Backing away slowly, I watched them until the crowd obscured their argument from view and then turned my back on the entire affair. I still didn¡¯t know what Na Rae had hoped to get out of me or how Yun Seo had figured out where she was, but he hadn¡¯t seemed particularly surprised to see me. I wondered if he had a tracker on his car. That would make sense. And maybe he had one on Na Rae as well. The more I learned about Yun Seo the more I realized I barely knew him at all. 8 / Territory Present Day, London I was surprised when Thom stopped by a Pret a Manger on our way to see his artwork. The chain restaurant that was as ubiquitous in London as Starbucks was everywhere else seemed far too mundane for someone like Thom to patronize, but Thom made his coffee order with enough familiarity to make me believe this was a daily ritual. The cashier didn¡¯t even ask his name before scrawling it on a cup. Thom was dressed in paint-splattered overalls and scuffed boots, and between the worn clothes and the heavy duffle slung over his shoulder that was full of what I assumed must be art supplies, he looked more like a handyman than an artist at the moment ¨C a handyman from a porn film, honestly, between his sculpted features, mysterious smile and sexy stubble. ¡°Where are we headed?¡± I asked as our strides fell into alignment. We were roughly the same height, but Thom¡¯s legs were a little shorter than mine. He had no trouble keeping pace with me, however. ¡°It¡¯s not far,¡± he said instead of answering. As we walked down the street in the direction of Whitechapel, Thom nodded at most of the people we passed. I couldn¡¯t tell if he knew them or if he was being unnecessarily polite, but to my surprise the people he acknowledged usually nodded back at him. In my experience so far, the English ¨C at least Londoners ¨C mostly kept to themselves and considered it polite to let others do the same. Maybe they could somehow tell that Thom was a local? I found it hard to believe that they all knew him, especially since he seemed so antisocial otherwise. ¡°Have you lived in London long?¡± I asked, realizing that I¡¯d never thought to ask this question before. While living with Thom had felt strangely easy from the beginning ¨C perhaps because Mason had defused any feelings of awkwardness between us before they had a chance to form ¨C we didn¡¯t talk much. Today was the first time we¡¯d shared any details about our lives. ¡°All my life,¡± Thom replied and then smiled. ¡°Well, I suppose I should say lives.¡± Creatures of myth often had longer than usual lifespans, but I¡¯d not heard of any with more than one life. ¡°Lives? You¡¯ve had more than one?¡± ¡°Eight, actually.¡± ¡°How old are you, then? In total.¡± Pursing his lips, he replied, ¡°Oh, nearly ninety now, I suppose.¡± I frowned, doing the math. That was much less time than I had expected, barely more than ten years per life unless some of them had been even shorter than that. I wanted to ask more questions in this vein, but I had learned to be patient. Thom was not very forthcoming and I didn¡¯t want to shut him down by being too direct. ¡°And you¡¯ve lived in London that whole time? That¡¯s a long time to live in one place.¡± He glanced at me, his eyes burnished gold in the sunshine. ¡°I suppose for someone like you who never settles anywhere for long.¡± ¡°I lived in Seoul my entire life until a few months ago,¡± I protested. He tilted his head thoughtfully and studied me with fresh interest. ¡°So you¡¯re new to the nomadic life?¡± I nodded, so distracted by his attention that I nearly tripped over a curb as we crossed the street. Thom caught me by the elbow with a firm grip and pulled me back onto the sidewalk with a little smile. I was suddenly reminded of a time I had done something similar for Yun Seo and my cheeks flushed. ¡°You can look all over the world for answers,¡± he said in a soft tone like a secret, ¡°but they¡¯re usually closer than you think.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± I allowed, ¡°but leaving wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d ever wanted to do until there was no reason to stay.¡± Thom made a soft sound of acknowledgement and released my arm as he continued walking. The street broadened into a plaza and I was surprised when Thom crossed it toward an old white church. He led me around the crumbling cemetery to the other side of the structure and I realized that the building had been converted into a daycare, the yard on the far side of the church filled with squealing children. ¡°Odd place for a daycare,¡± I noted, my gaze lingering on the weathered headstones nearby. ¡°There isn¡¯t a lot of cheap real estate left in the city,¡± Thom replied, pushing through the gate and into the playground. ¡°But they can afford to hire you to paint a mural?¡± He laughed, and the sound was warm and generous in a way I hadn¡¯t found him to be up to that point. ¡°No. This one I¡¯m doing gratis. I happen to know the director and she asked for something to brighten up the yard.¡± Glancing back at me, he backed his way to the corner of the building, somehow managing to miss a pair of running children as he went. ¡°I couldn¡¯t pass up the opportunity to cover an old church in street art,¡± he added, his eyebrows arching toward his hairline. A pang of worry tugged at my chest as I tried to imagine what kind of sacrilege Thom might dream up for such a purpose in spite of the presence of children, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I rounded the building and got my first glimpse of the mural. An enormous tabby cat sprawled across the wall of the church, paws straining to reach the round window near the roof, the red stained glass roundel the perfect size and color to be a ball. I laughed at the design, struck by how wholesome and innocent it was compared to what I¡¯d imagined. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like your style,¡± I noted, glancing at Thom who was watching my reaction with an amused smirk. ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± he admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s good to try new things from time to time, don¡¯t you think?¡± I couldn¡¯t argue with that. A red ball similar to the one in the mural collided with my leg and I caught it before it could bounce away. A young girl looked up at me in anticipation, her hands spread wide in readiness to catch it. I tossed the ball toward her with a strange feeling twisting in my gut. Returning my attention to Thom, I saw that he had already moved toward the wall and the corner of the painting that remained unfinished. I found a bench to sit on and finish my coffee, watching him wield cans of spray paint like paint brushes and bring the tip of the cat¡¯s tail to vivid life. ¡°Do you want a piece?¡± I looked over at the boy who had crawled onto the bench beside me. He was offering me part of his string cheese. Shaking my head, I smiled. ¡°No, thanks.¡± ¡°What do you think its name is?¡± I followed his gaze to the giant mural. ¡°I don¡¯t know. What do you think?¡± The boy considered this deeply as he nibbled on his cheese. ¡°It needs a good name.¡± ¡°Of course. Maybe you should all vote on what it should be.¡± ¡°No. Everyone else is bad at choosing names,¡± the boy said decisively. ¡°They¡¯d call it Stripes or Meow. Not anything good.¡± Chuckling, I returned my attention to the mural and Thom as he stretched high over his head to reach the last spot of empty wall. ¡°Do you have a cat at home?¡± ¡°We have a dog. I hate it. Always giving me kisses.¡± The boy shook his head with a grimace, his brown hair falling forward over his eyes with the force of his movement. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°What¡¯s its name?¡± ¡°Roger.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a terrible name.¡± ¡°Right?¡± Finishing off his cheese, the boy sighed. ¡°How about Tom?¡± Trying to contain my reaction, I repeated, ¡°Tom? Why would you call it that?¡± ¡°Like a tomcat. Or the character in that story.¡± I tried to think of the story he meant, thinking of a few cartoon characters that fit the description. Before I could make a guess, the boy said, ¡°You know. The King of Cats!¡± I didn¡¯t know, and I frowned, trying to remember a story with a character like that. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s done!¡± the boy exclaimed, climbing onto his feet on top of the bench and hopping up and down. Worried he was going to fall and hurt himself, I reached out to steady him, but he leapt off the bench and stumbled to the ground before I could stop him, rolling back to his feet and bounding across the playground with several other children to get a closer look at the mural. I stood up and walked closer as well, eyes widening when I saw Thom adding his signature to the painting, a cat¡¯s nose and whiskers. And above that a crown. I¡¯d been expecting this, but the confirmation of my suspicion was still unsettling. When he was done, Thom looked back to meet my eyes, a knowing look on his face, and I realized he had brought me here for this reason alone. He knew I would recognize the mark. Thom collected his tools and ruffled the hair of several children as he walked past, joining me without saying a word. ¡°That was you on the billboard last night.¡± Chuckling, Thom nudged me with an elbow. ¡°Let¡¯s go. We should talk somewhere else.¡± He walked me back around the church and gestured to a bench next to the cemetery. When we were settled, Thom looked at me for a long time, his stare so intense it made me want to look away, but I sensed that I was being tested so I held his gaze. ¡°As I said before, I¡¯ve lived here a long time,¡± Thom said finally. Lips pressed into a thin line, he stretched his arm out over the back of the bench, unintentionally brushing fingers against my shoulder. His gaze was focused on the buildings across the street and seemed to be seeing through them to something else. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the city change even down to the roots with the construction of the Underground. New construction pushes out the old and the city gobbles up more and more greenspace until there everything is concrete, metal and glass. They call it progress. I call it destruction and the loss of history. Walden Construction is tearing up the old with no respect to what came before, rerouting the streets that have been footpaths across this land for a century and leaving more and more people homeless.¡± ¡°Gentrification is a disease in many cities,¡± I pointed out, Thom¡¯s passion on the topic striking me as a bit extreme. He gave me a look like I was missing the point, but nodded slowly anyway. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it was so widespread.¡± A dark chuckle escaped Thom¡¯s lips. ¡°Even so. This is my territory and I will defend it.¡± ¡°It seems like something that is too big to stop.¡± ¡°Perhaps. But I have some ideas.¡± Smiling sadly, I looked at the headstones crumbling into the dirt and thought of all the people who had lived and died in this place while Thom continued living. What was he? There were many possibilities, long-lived creatures that were bound to certain territories, but I couldn¡¯t help thinking of the boy¡¯s statement about a cat who was a king. I should look up the story later. ¡°Would you be willing to help me?¡± I winced. ¡°I don¡¯t do that kind of thing anymore.¡± His fingertips touched my shoulder again, this time with purpose. ¡°Not anymore? So you did before?¡± ¡°I spent years fighting someone else¡¯s war. I won¡¯t make that mistake again. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Nodding slowly, he traced his index finger over my back. ¡°I understand.¡± We went our separate ways for the rest of the day and I wandered for a while on my own, memories clouding my thoughts in spite of my best attempts to ignore them. I stopped on a street corner and stared at an advertisement for Requite until the display changed, remembering the way working for Yun Seo had made me feel. It had been thrilling and made me feel like I was making a difference in a world where hardly anyone got the chance to feel that way, but all along I¡¯d known there would be a price for what we were doing. I¡¯d simply escaped before I had to pay it myself. I worked my shift at the Goldcrest in a daze. Lyla was so giddy about her date the night before that she didn¡¯t notice my sullen behavior. She didn¡¯t even question me when I offered to lock up again, grateful to have an opportunity for round two with her new friend. I didn''t see any fresh graffiti on my way home or hear any footsteps on roof tiles, and the apartment was once again empty when I arrived home. I was grateful to find Thom¡¯s bedroom door open and the room beyond dark, not quite ready to talk to him again. The air was chilly enough that I checked the thermostat to make sure that it was still set at the right temperature. I took a scalding shower, blaming my emotional turmoil for my shivers, but the apartment felt even colder after the heat of my shower. I dressed in a long-sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants, suspecting I would get overheated partway through the night as I crawled underneath my duvet. I was almost asleep when a series of metallic thuds startled me back into alertness. They sounded like footsteps on the fire escape outside, but they were light, like the footsteps of a child. For a moment I thought I had dreamed the sound, but then I heard it again, followed by a yowl and a thump against the wall. Still lethargic with sleep, I crawled out of bed and saw movement in Thom¡¯s room when I stepped into the hallway. I approached the door cautiously and flipped on the light, freezing when I saw a cat on Thom¡¯s bed. Trying to figure out where it had come from, I noticed that the window was open, explaining the chill in the air. The cat limped across the covers, leaving a trail of blood over the white fabric, its broad paws sinking deep into the comforter with its weight. I¡¯d never seen a cat so large. All black except for a patch of white fur on its chest, it hissed at me and retreated as soon as I moved toward the bed. ¡°Stay there,¡± I instructed as I backed out of the room, not sure why I expected an obviously feral cat to understand and obey. I searched the bathroom until I found a first aid kit and wet a rag with lukewarm water. Returning to the bedroom, I approached the cat with outstretched hands. ¡°You¡¯re hurt,¡± I said, feeling foolish. ¡°Will you let me patch you up?¡± The cat made an irritated sound but didn¡¯t move away, its ears flattening to its head as I attempted to clean the blood off its paw. When I got too close to the wound on its flank, it flinched out of reach, leaving a scratch on my arm that burned. Wincing, I decided I¡¯d done enough cleaning. ¡°This will sting a little,¡± I told the cat as I squeezed a little salve onto the cuts, and it made a soft sound of warning, its tail flipping wildly over the covers as I wrapped a bandage around its paw, amazed that the animal had allowed me to do this much. On some level I¡¯d already started to suspect the truth, but it was the middle of the night and I was barely coherent, so focused on taking care of the creature that had wandered into my life out of nowhere that I didn¡¯t spare much thought for how strange and dreamlike the entire situation really was. Once the cat¡¯s wounds were bandaged, I pushed the window until it was open only enough for the cat to flee when it was ready. I had a feeling Thom would be angry to find a wounded cat on his bed when he got home, but the thought seemed less important than it should have been as I settled back into my own bed, so tired that I began to drift off almost immediately. I felt the bed shift as something heavy landed on top but was too tired to move as I felt a bundle of warmth curl up beside me, rumbling with a deep purr. I woke up the next morning in stages, noticing first how warm and content I felt. There was sunlight shining on my face, bright enough that it was burning through my eyelids, so I shifted to find a patch of shade, surprised when I bumped into something cold. Opening my eyes as I backed away, I saw Thom¡¯s face looking back at me, his burnished gold eyes watching me with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something I wasn¡¯t yet ready to acknowledge. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn¡¯t still asleep and tried to assess the situation. Thom was naked except for the bandages on his ankle and shoulder, and he was curled on top of my duvet, his face close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin. My body reacted to his nudity but I did my best to hide my arousal, determined to stick to my self-imposed chastity where Thom was concerned. I swallowed hard. ¡°You¡¯re a cat,¡± I said softly, muddled memories of tending to an injured stray the night before coming back to me with the unreality of a dream. His lips curved but didn¡¯t quite resolve into a smile. ¡°How did you get hurt?¡± He shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Lifting his uninjured hand to the side of my face, he traced cool fingers over my cheekbone and then my ear. I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut. ¡°No,¡± I whispered. ¡°Yes,¡± he retorted. ¡°I can smell your desire. You¡¯ve been reeking of it from the moment we met, and I only have so much self-control.¡± I pushed against him as he leaned toward me. ¡°This is a bad idea.¡± He laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not expecting a long-term commitment. You only signed a three-month lease, remember? And it¡¯s already been a month.¡± He nipped at my nose, his breath warm against my skin while his nose was cold as he nuzzled against me, his lips dragging over mine as he continued. ¡°You don¡¯t want to help me protect my kingdom? Fine. But you can give me this much, can¡¯t you? I promise you won¡¯t regret it.¡± My resolve was crumbling, the heat of his body too insistent to ignore. My willpower fell apart with the first kiss, and soon I was grasping at his shoulders and letting him pin me down to the mattress, his tongue sliding deeper until all I could think about was the way it felt, rough and agile against my own. I didn¡¯t track all the details after that, unsure how I managed to strip off my clothes, whether I did it on my own or with his help, but soon I was on hands and knees, my back arching with pleasure as he filled me from behind, my fingers clawing at the sheets as he took me hard and fast. I floated through the aftermath of my first orgasm, my mind drifting through memories of different hands holding me down, other teeth against my jaw, and shuddered when he finally grunted through his own release, his voice deep and familiar in my ear in a way I hadn¡¯t expected. I blacked out after he coaxed a second, unexpected orgasm from my body too soon after the first, wondering briefly how he had managed it before the darkness swallowed me whole.