“A Hybrid,” she whispered. “That woman... she must’ve killed him.”
“That’s nonsense. Listen to yourself, Darcy. You can’t look at a person and think they’re a murderer based on somefeeling.” Yiran scoffed.“You’re jumping to conclusions. Hybrids don’t exist.”
“My mother was killed by one, and he—it—it almost killed me.”
A shudder went through Rui in the quiet that followed. She felt Yiran’s shock, then his denial.
“There’s no evidence that Hybrids exist,” he finally said.
“I know what I saw,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Fine.Hypotheticallyspeaking, if they’re real, what exactly are they?”
“Revenants with human traits. They look like us, talk like us, and some theorize they retain all their consciousness and reason. But because of changes in their spiritual energy, they possess the hunger of a Revenant. Which means they’re attracted to yangqi, and they attack humans too.”
“But the Blight is a supernatural virus, isn’t it?” Yiran said. “It only infects spirits and those sorts of things.”
“Viruses evolve,” Rui pointed out. “The Blight isn’t something you can study in normie biology class. You say there’s no evidence that Hybrids exist, but there’s no concrete evidence that the Blight can’t infect humans either.”
“I still think you’re jumping to—” A loud sound came from the closet. Yiran jerked toward it. “Did you hear—”
Rui silenced him with a finger, drawing a sword from her bag. She might not have magic, but she knew twenty-seven different ways to maim a person.
Yiran grabbed a tennis racket and nudged the door open.
The walk-in wardrobe was a mess of clothes. Rui spotted a limited-edition trainer missing its mate, some sparkly jewelry, a designer bag, an expensive watch in a case, and a bottle of red wine.
Amid the piles of stuff, something moved.
Raising her sword, she gave Yiran a nod.
He swung his racket back.
Now, she mouthed.
But their arms halted in midair.
A sleepy-faced boy was crawling out of the mess. His dark hair was disheveled, and he was wearing a wrinkled T-shirt and a long, scruffy coat.
“Rui?” Zizi asked, his pale blue eyes blinking in confusion. “Where am I?”
28
Yiran
Yiran tossed his racket aside. “How did you get in here?”
“I’ve no idea,” Zizi said. His eyes flickered with a feverish light. “Last thing I remember was falling asleep under my wisteria tree. It’s been downhill from there.” He sauntered out of the walk-in wardrobe and starfished on the bed. “Nice place you got here. What’s the thread count on these sheets?”
“Get off my bed before I use my fists and make you.”
Zizi rolled off and settled onto the floor cross-legged. He stared up at them with suspicion. “What are the two of you doing in his bedroom?”
“None of your business,” Rui snapped. She grabbed his collar. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Keep it down,” Yiran warned. They were too far from the main house for his grandfather to hear anything, but there were servants around the estate.
“He’s right,” Zizi said. “You can yell at me when we get out of here.”
