“Why is a suhoshin after us?” He gives me the side-eye. “Did we break some law from the Shingae that I’m not aware of?”
“Ben’s murder is under their jurisdiction. They might see our ... activities as interference with their investigation.” I hesitate for a moment, then bite the bullet. No more lies. I respect him too much to lie to him. And I ... trust him. “Or they might be afterme. When I killed Daeseong over a century ago, I hurt ... others. That’s why I fled to America. That’s why I’ve been hiding from the Shingae.”
It’s incomplete and oversimplified, but it’s the best I can do while sitting in a crowded airport. I haven’t allowed myself to think about that night, much less talk about it with anyone. But when Ethan doesn’t say anything, I feel icy shame slither down my spine.
“I didn’t mean to,” I choke out, my lips trembling. “I don’t even knowhowI did it. I passed out—”
“Shh.” Ethan wraps his arms around me, pressing my head against his shoulder. “Of course you didn’t mean to. I know you. You don’t need to explain.”
More than anything, I want him to keep holding me—to tell me it wasn’t my fault. I want tobelievehim. So I have no choice but to push him away. “Either way, I can’t let the Suhoshin catch me until Daeseong pays for what he did to Ben.”
Ethan searches my face for a long moment. “Then we better get on that plane.”
“Yes.” I stand, eager to move past my memories, then grimace at my sodden shoes. “But first, we need new shoes.”
We walk into a duty-free shop and split up to find our shoes. We meet at the checkout line, each of us holding a pair of Converse. Mine are red high-tops, and his are a classic black.
“Great minds ...,” he says with a grin.
I smile back at him. “Like Converse?”
We both jump when the cashier coughs. We sheepishly place our shoes on the counter. I pull some crumpled bills from my pocket—the change I got from the salty airline man—and pay for both of us.
“I’m out of cash. I’ll pay you back,” Ethan says, rubbing the back of his head. “After.”
“Of course you will.” I narrow my eyes at him to hide the ache burrowing into my chest. What I wouldn’t give for there to be anafter. “With interest.”
Even though we run to our gate in our new shoes, we’re the last to board. The flight attendant barely has time to give us our hot towels before the plane prepares for takeoff. I put the hot towel on my neck and squeeze the tight muscles. My eyes slide shut, and I moan. I open them to find Ethan staring at me, his lips parted.
He blushes. “Do ... do you want my towel?”
“What? No.” Why the hell amIblushing? “I’m fine.”
“May I take your towels?” The flight attendant has impeccable timing. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we’re about to take off.”
“Sure.” Ethan quickly wipes his hands and places his towel on the tray she holds out.
I reach over and drop mine on it as well. “Thank you.”
“We’ll be serving supper as soon as the captain turns off the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign,” she replies with a bright smile. “Please feel free to peruse the menu.”
“Have you ever flown first class before?” Ethan asks once the flight attendant hurries off.
“No.” I try not to gape at my surroundings. “You?”
“Uh, no. PIs don’t make that kind of money.” He chuckles. “Man, look at the size of these seats.”
They are huge. My seat even has an ottoman at the front—which my feet barely reach. Each row has four seats in a 1-2-1 configuration. Ethan and I have the middle two seats, so we’re next to each other, witha small partition down the middle. Our eyes meet across the cozy setup and hold. My heart rate picks up. I look away and grab the menu for something to do.
I don’t know what to make of this connection I have with Ethan. It feels different from the friendship I used to share with him and Ben all those years ago. But maybe it’s because I regret leaving them ... because I’ve missed them. I don’t want to admit it, but having friends and then losing them made the last eight years almost too lonely to bear. And now my guilt over Ben’s death and the way I’m endangering Ethan laces every other feeling I have.
“Oh my gods.” I force a laugh. “They have caviar service.”
“Holy shit.” Ethan opens up his menu. “Theydohave caviar service.”
“I’ve never even had caviar.” I can’t stop laughing now that I’ve started. It’s too much.
In the span of hours, I went from being attacked by an undead assassin to nearly plunging to my death over a cliff to moon shifting in terrified desperation. And now we’ve arrived at thecaviar serviceportion of the programming.
