He turns toward me with deliberate calm. “Was it the red assassin?”
“No, she said it was one of her brothers, which means it’s either Blue or Yellow.” I glance down at my hands and blabber more useless excuses. “I’m sorry I didn’t ... I should’ve ... I didn’t know how to tell you. And I wanted to find out who their master was—the real murderer—before saying anything.”
“You’re right. The assassins don’t matter. Daeseong is the one I want.” Ethan loosens his death grip on his mug and takes a sip of hisblack coffee. He grimaces as though he’s not used to the bitter acidity. I wonder how he really takes his coffee. He used to have a sweet tooth. “Do you have any idea what he wants from you?”
“I don’t know.” I slide the sugar jar toward him, and he shoots me a surprised glance. A corner of his mouth quirks, and he dumps an alarming amount of sugar into his coffee. “The Seonangshin said something about a gift of the Cheon’gwang, the force of true light, but I have no idea what that means. I wish they didn’t speak in riddles.”
Ethan grunts his agreement. “That might be helpful.”
“And ...” I shift in my seat, making the vinyl bench squeak. No more secrets. No more hiding. “And he probably wants revenge.”
“Revenge against you?” After everything I told him, he still looks bewildered. Like I’m not capable of doing anything that would inspire vengeance in someone. “For what?”
“For killing him over a century ago,” I say, correcting his misguided faith in me.
He takes a moment to process that, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is that ... is that why he killed Ben? To get back at you?”
“I think that’s part of it.” I nod, my shoulders hunching forward. “I don’t know how he found you guys, but I must’ve left some traces behind. I stayed too long. Daeseong somehow knew Ben mattered to me ...”
“A part of it?” Ethan’s eyes narrow as he puts together what I’m not telling him. “They killed Ben so I would lead them to you. They couldn’t find you, and I led them straight to you like a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not doing this. You’re not going to blame yourself foranyof this,” I say through gritted teeth, stupid tears filling my eyes. “You’re supposed to hate me. Ben died because ofme.”
“That bastard killed Ben,” he growls, then goes completely still—his face going blank with shock—as he figures something else out. “You thought I was going to leave you. That’s what you meant when you said our next steps depend on what I decide to do.”
“You have every right to walk away.” My voice sounds hollow. “To keep yourself safe.”
“You actually think I’ll walk away knowing who killed Ben?” he asks in a near whisper. “Knowing that you might be next?”
“Ben would be alive if it wasn’t for me.” I draw back my shoulders and go for the kill. Why delay the inevitable? He’s going to leave me eventually. “He was used as a calling card for me to see.”
Ethan sucks in a quick breath and turns away from me. He sees now. He can’t possibly want to stick with me. I ignore the ache in my heart and blink away the prickling behind my eyes. It’s for the best. If I can’t keep him by my side and protect him, the best thing I can do is draw Daeseong and his minions away from him. I need to get Ethan off the radar somehow. That way he might have some chance at survival, however slim.
Before the silence shrivels up my insides, the waitress shows up with our food and drops the plates in front of us. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she waited for a pause in our conversation to bring us the food. But I don’t think this diner is about that kind of quality service. The food at least looks decent.
I pick up my utensils and cut into my steak. It’s actually cooked perfectly rare. I was expecting an overcooked piece of well-done leather. I take a bite and chew. My eyes flutter shut. I break the yolk in my sunny-side up egg and dip a piece of steak in it before I pop it into my mouth.
I steal a glance at Ethan. He’s digging into his western omelet with gusto. My steak gets stuck halfway down my throat. How is he so nonchalant about this? I pound my hand against my chest and gulp down some coffee. Maybe he’s glad to get away from me—a monster from the Shingae.
I slice viciously into the steak and stuff a giant piece into my mouth. I chew as though I have a vendetta against the cow who sacrificed its life for the meal. Even as I fume in silence, I notice the new occupant who walks into the restaurant. He stands about six feet tall, but thebreadth of his shoulders and his muscular build make him look bigger. But it’s his face that makes my jaw go slack. Those pretty boy K-drama actors would pull brown paper bags over their heads in shame if they saw this guy.
“Fuck.” Ethan jumps to his feet and drags me toward the side exit.
As I stumble after him, I glance over my shoulder and see the stranger’s eyes light with silver fire. If I had time, I would smack my palm against my forehead. How did I not see it right away? But there’s no time to call myself names. A suhoshin is after us.
TEARS OF BLOOD
The Queen of Mountains shed her tears in secret. Her people needed her to be strong. And it would be foolish to reveal her vulnerabilities to her husband. More than anything, she kept her pain and her tears to herself, because these were one part of her that were hers and hers alone. It was a miracle that she could stillfeel—that she could still hurt and cry.
But as she held her newborn son for the first time, she learned that love could not be hidden. All this time, she thought she was meant to give her life to protect the worlds ... but she was wrong. She was meant to give her life to protecthim.
“Your Highness.” The lady-in-waiting fell to her knees, shock and distress plain on her face—for her queen was weeping.
Tears as red as blood fell in an unending stream down her cheeks. One by one, they dropped onto the white blanket that swaddled her newborn son.
“There must be another way,” the lady-in-waiting said, her own eyes soaked with grief.
“There is no other way.” The queen raised her face, her gaze clear and determined despite her heartbreak. She held out the sleeping prince to her lady-in-waiting—to her friend. “You will be his mother. He will know nothing. Not until it is time.”
