I shake my head in confusion.The coming of the Amheuk?Does the Seonangshin mean Daeseong’s resurrection? How do you forestall something that already happened? But what else could she mean?
The dark mudang’s hunger for power has no end. He will wreak terror and destruction on the worlds. I know this to be true. But maybe this time I won’t have to be the one to end him. There are plenty ofheroes in the Shingae, and I’m not one of them. Isn’t this the kind of shit the Suhoshin signed up for?
“Why ... why does he seek me?” I need concrete answers, not riddles.
“For the same reason he sought you all those years ago,” she says.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “He wanted to capture my mother to steal her powers—”
“He wantedyou. Not your mother,” the Seonangshin cuts me off, growing impatient. “He still seeks a power within you—a gift of the Cheon’gwang.”
“The true light? The Cheon’gwang sacrificed itself half a millennium ago to vanquish the Amheuk. How can I bear its gift?” It can’t be me. My mother was the most powerful gumiho of her time—a healer and a warrior. I’m not special. I’m not ... good. “I don’t understand.”
“You will in time.” The Seonangshin see all, but they do not impart their knowledge indiscriminately. “Be brave, my child.”
With so many of my questions unanswered, the lone cypress transports me to the top of the cliff, my audience with her at an end.
CHAPTER SIX
“Sunny.” Ethan’s voice is hoarse with relief.
He pulls me back from the edge of the cliff and runs his hands over me, checking to make sure I’m still in one piece. His touch is urgent but so gentle that my heart twists a little. Darkness is threatening to overtake my mind, but all I want is to lean into his touch. A shiver runs through me, and his eyes shoot up to meet mine.
Whatever he sees in them changes the tenor of his touch as he resumes sliding his hands down my arms. His fingers linger at my elbows, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin at the crooks of my arms. The slow circles make my skin catch fire, and heat gathers low in my stomach. I want to let it spread and undo me. Ethan takes a step toward me, narrowing the gap between us, and I release a ragged sigh. His hot gaze holds mine as he draws his hands back up my arms, and I sway toward him. But he suddenly stills and draws one hand away.
“Goddamn it, Sunny.” He looks stricken. “You’re bleeding.”
“The shoulder wound tore open while I was climbing down. It already healed shut again,” I explain woodenly. With his touch gone, nothing stands between my mind and the horrors of what I learned. “I’ll be fine.”
“Hey.” He guides me closer to the car and peers into my face by the beam of the headlights. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I force past my tear-clogged throat.
Nothing is okay. Daeseong came back from the dead—stronger and nearly invincible—through the blood of five thousand people. Even a newborn. And now ... I know he orchestrated Ben’s murder. The note—Mihwa, are you well?—is more than a taunt. It’s a threat, telling me he can and will take the people I care about away from me unless I ... what? Give him what he wants? But how can I if I have no idea what he wants from me?
And I have no more excuses left to keep the truth from Ethan—other than trying to keep him safe. But can I protect him from Daeseong? I don’t even know if I can keep myself alive. This isn’t my decision to make. I have to tell Ethan the truth so he can decide what he wants to do.
“Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow?” I ask, moving toward the trunk of the car where he keeps his duffel bag. “Let me clean myself up a bit, then we can be on our way.”
“Sunny ...” He stops me with a hand on my good arm and searches my face. I look away, pressing my lips together. I can’t do this right now. With a sigh, he walks to the back of the car and opens the trunk. “On our way where?”
“Back to Las Vegas.” I come stand next to him, grateful he let me change the subject.
“Won’t the assassins come looking for us there?” He hands me a navy blue T-shirt and turns his back to me.
I unbutton my shirt and shrug out of it with a grimace. I use a dry patch of the cloth to wipe the blood off my skin the best I can. Some blood soaked into my bra, and I reach back for the clasp, but I hesitate. The heady buzz of desire still lingers in my veins, and the pebbled peaks of my breasts press against the confines of my bra. The thought of Ethan seeing how much he affects me makes me blush. And it’s not only embarrassment that’s making blood rush to my cheeks. A part of mewantshim to see. I blush harder and decide to leave my bra on. I don’t want to have my arms crossed over my chest for the entire drive back to Vegas.
“Hopefully, they won’t expect us to go there, because it’s so obvious,” I say, thinking out loud. Focusing on strategy soothes my frayed nerves. I pull on the T-shirt. It falls halfway down my thighs, and the sleeves end just a couple of inches above my elbows. “Besides, if the assassins have any tracking skills, they’ll find us no matter where we go, now that I’ve used my magic. I’ll leave a trace for at least a few hours.”
“So it’s magic,” he mutters almost to himself. He must’ve run through a hundred possibilities in his head. I could’ve been a mutant or an alien. But knowing that I can use magic probably raises even more questions for him. “I didn’t hear you incant any spells. Did you perform a ritual when I wasn’t looking?”
“My magic doesn’t come from spells or rituals. It’s a part of who I am.” As the words leave my mouth, I know them to be true. I’ve been denying a part of myself—a part that defines me—for over a century. Without my magic, I am not whole. But do I want to be whole, knowing what I’m capable of?
“A part of who you are ...” Instead of demanding to know what the hell that means, he asks a more productive question. “Your healing power—if that’s magic—shouldn’t that have alerted them back in your apartment? Do you think they followed us here?”
“I’m decent. You can turn around.” When Ethan faces me again, I answer, “My passive powers aren’t detectable. It’s only when I actively use magic that it leaves a mark. But using my spirit eyes definitely counts as active magic.”
“Then we better get out of here.” He ushers me to the passenger seat with a hand on the small of my back and opens the door for me. “It sounds like we need a head start.”
