“Selling…” Jericho prodded gently.
“I’m not supposed to say,” she whispered.
Jericho gave her a sympathetic look as Freckles finished, snipping the thread, then began to wrap her hand with a soft-looking white bandage material.
“We have to know if we’re going to help your mom,” Jericho said.
“Knock-off bags,” Casey said quietly. “Those ones that look so close to the real ones it’s impossible to tell the difference. She was selling them…like they were real.”
They all exchanged looks. There was a lot of money to be made in fake bags.
“You think this is how the triad is involved?” Nico asked Jericho. “Making vendors peddle fake bags?”
“What’s a triad?” Casey asked again, bewildered.
Before anyone could offer a simple explanation, Malachi started to…well, Malachi.
“The triad is a collective term for various Chinese secret societies and criminal organizations. Their history goes back to the seventeenth century, originally as resistance groups against the Qing dynasty. The name ‘triad’ comes from the triangular symbols used by these groups, representing the harmony of heaven, earth, and man. Modern triads are involved in a wide range of activities, like drug trafficking, extortion, money laundering, and even legitimate businesses. They have a strict hierarchical structure, with ranks like ‘Dragon Head’ for the boss, ‘Incense Master’ for the spiritual leader, and ‘Red Pole’ for the enforcers. Triad rituals often include elaborate initiation ceremonies involving oaths and blood. They’re known for their use of codes and symbols, like the number four, which is considered unlucky because it sounds like ‘death’ in Chinese. Some of the most famous triads include the Sun Yee On, 14K, and Wo Shing Wo. They operate not just in Hong Kong and Mainland China, but also in places with significant Chinesecommunities like Taiwan, Macau, and even the United States and Canada.”
Nico wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or horrified by Mal’s near encyclopedic knowledge of triads. When had he learned that? With Mal, it could have been from a documentary he watched one time when he was nine, a class he’d taken in high school, or something he looked up twenty minutes ago when he was in the bathroom. Mal, much like August, seemed to have an almost eidetic memory, being able to recall large chunks of information verbatim without even trying. Nico couldn’t accurately recall what he’d had for breakfast that morning.
“Oh…” Casey said. “Why are they looking for my mom?”
Not for any good reason.
Nico looked to Jericho, who shrugged. “We don’t know yet, sweetie, but we plan to find out. We just have to do some investigating first.”
“In the meantime, you’re going to stay with our friends, Calliope and Lola,” Freckles said.
“You’re going to have to miss a few days of school while we figure this out,” Jericho added.
If anyone had told Nico he’d won a few vacation days at thirteen, he would have done a victory lap around the apartment. Casey just looked anxious. “Will… Can someone get my work for me? I can’t get behind in my classes. My mom will kill me. She only lets me dance if I keep my grades up.” Her gaze snapped to Mal. “Does this mean I have to miss dance class, too?”
Mal looked at Jericho then at Casey before saying, “We’ll see.”
The sound of keys being pressed on the door lock rang through the apartment a moment before Calliope scream-whispered, “We’re here.”
Mal and Nico exchanged looks.
That was their cue to leave. It was already so late.
The moment they entered the apartment, the mood shifted, Nico’s heart plummeting. It was dark except for the kitchen nightlight. Dumpling gave a happy chitter from the couch when they entered, while Kimchi wound around their ankles, making herself an obstacle. Levi and Shiloh’s television played softly from their bedroom. It was late…or early…depending on how one looked at it. There was no way their roommates were awake, but they’d fallen into the habit of keeping the television on to quiet some of the noises from their…extracurricular activities. It didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing.
They went to their room, Nico stripping off his shirt before heading to the bathroom. Mal followed along like a lost puppy. He put toothpaste on Nico’s toothbrush for him before doing the same for himself. They brushed in silence, their bodies knocking together occasionally as they used the sink, both smiling at each other in the mirror each time it happened.
It was utterly normal. Boringly mundane. They’d done this a million times before. Standing like this, side by side, Nori perched on the back of the toilet, trilling at them until they let her drink from the faucet. But something had changed. The energy between them now crackled like static electricity. Nico felt this weird anticipation like something was coming. He just didn’t know what. Why couldn’t Levi and Shiloh be awake? They were always a good diversion whenever Nico got too in his head.
When they finished with their teeth, Mal put their toothbrushes away. Nico sucked in a sharp breath when Mal gripped his waist and plopped him on the countertop, his heartbeat running wild behind his ribs. Nico stared at himstupidly until Mal handed him the cleansing wipes, an expectant look on his face.
Oh, right.
He quickly cleaned Mal’s face, just as he did most nights, then took the small bottle of product, using his fingertips to apply it, rubbing the serum over his skin, paying special attention to the now barely-there acne scars on his cheeks.
Nico’s chest tightened. He loved those scars. He’d fantasized about kissing each and every one more times than he’d ever dare admit out loud. Those scars proved that Mal, as radiant as he was, was still just a human and not some fantasy Nico had conjured in his head. His best friend’s intense gaze remained locked on Nico as he stroked his face, bouncing from his lips to his eyes, making his already erratic heart rate much worse.
“All done,” Nico said softly, a little breathless, his cheeks hot.
“Your turn,” Mal murmured, stepping between Nico’s open legs to get unnecessarily closer.
