his skin against hers made her fingers tingle and she fisted them in the lapels of his shirt.
When he kissed her the third time, she pulled on his collar, dragging him down so his lips crushed against hers. He gasped at the pressure, but the hands holding her trailed back to cup her neck, until it was unclear who held who.
She tilted her head to deepen the angle. A hum sounded in his throat—a vibration that traveled from his lips into hers and down her spine.
A thousand lights burst behind her closed lids. Energy shot through her fingertips, warming her previously chilled body.
Jihoon’s arms wound around her waist, pulling her into his lap.
She’d read books that said two lovers’ hearts could race as one. This wasn’t true for Miyoung. Her heart chased Jihoon’s, speeding in a breakneck sprint to catch up.
She wanted to absorb the feel of his skin, the scent of him, the taste of him. Her heart had been emptied tonight, and she wanted to fill it again with him.
33
JIHOON DIDN’T KNOW when they fell asleep. He jerked upright, suddenly awake.
“What is it?” Miyoung had been curled into his side and blinked owlishly at him.
“I don’t know.” Jihoon frowned, unsure what had pulled him so sharply from sleep.
Then came a crash from downstairs. He rose.
Miyoung stood as well. “Where’s it coming from?”
“The restaurant,” he said, stepping toward the back door. “Halmeoni?” he called. No answer.
The surprise he’d felt at waking had been centered in his belly. Now it moved to his chest as anxiety overtook him.
“Halmeoni?” Jihoon shouted, now running.
“Wait!” Miyoung called behind him.
He didn’t listen. He raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
The restaurant was dark and still. It seemed abandoned, and Jihoon had a moment to wonder if he’d imagined the sound when there was a banging crash from the kitchen.
“Jihoon-ah.” Miyoung’s voice held caution, but he ran toward the sound.
Jihoon stopped short and stared, unable to process what he saw.
His halmeoni lay on the floor, her apron stained crimson. A stack of plates had rained around her, covering the floor with broken shards.
A shape melted out of the shadows and became long and thin. A beautiful body, hair raven black, and eyes to match: Gu Yena.
“Stupid human,” she said a second before she struck Jihoon.
34
MIYOUNG LEAPT TOWARD Jihoon. A yell of surprise caught in her throat so it came out a groan of distress.
“I’m disappointed in you, Daughter.”
“What are you doing?” Miyoung’s question wavered with her sobs.
“I’m fixing your mistakes, like I always do.”
Miyoung stood slowly, making sure to position her body between Yena and Jihoon.
“Please, Jihoon is important to me.” Miyoung hardly moved a muscle. It felt like she stood at a precipice. One strong breeze would send her tumbling over the edge or back to safety. The direction of the wind relied solely on her mother’s heart.
“You care about him that much?” Yena asked.
“I do.” She held on to her mother’s considering expression like a lifeline.
Then Yena’s sudden laughter deflated Miyoung.
“You’ve proven your lack of judgment to me, Daughter. First with that shaman and now with this boy. A gumiho does not love. We are objects of desire. We are illusion and beauty that humans lust after. That is why they are easily manipulated.”
“You don’t understand.” Angry tears burned at Miyoung’s eyes.
“No, I understand too well. I was foolish like you once, and I’ve been punished for that lapse in judgment.”
The words stung. Did Yena mean to imply Miyoung had been her punishment?
“I’m doing this for your own good.” Yena picked up a knife and turned toward Halmeoni. “This woman’s death will be on you. You need to learn that there are consequences to your actions. And that there can be no witnesses to them either.”
“Please.” Miyoung held on to a sliver of hope that her mother would love Miyoung enough to listen.
“No!” From behind Miyoung, Jihoon jumped up and charged toward Yena. There was no time to stop him, no time to warn him.
Yena moved so quickly, it was a flash. She stood, aimed the knife, and let Jihoon’s forward motion do the work for her.
The blade slid into his gut so smoothly that Miyoung thought perhaps it hadn’t happened. There was no jerk of his body, no cry of pain. He dropped with a dull thud. And the blood—so much blood—pooled around him, so thick it was black.
35
MIYOUNG’S SCREAM WAS more of a howl as she dropped beside Jihoon, soaking her knees in his blood.