Vicious Spirits - Kat Cho Page 0,88

Jihoon’s father.

Junu remembered once asking Hyuk what that was like, pulling a soul free from its body. The reaper had explained that it required superhuman strength. That’s why all jeoseung saja were so strong. A soul is a heavy thing.

But Hyuk had been doing this a long time and he made it seem effortless, like lifting a sleeping child. Eventually he placed the soul on its feet. Laid a hand on its shoulder as if waking someone who was sleepwalking.

“Go back to your friends, Junu. You should be with them.”

“I don’t have friends.” And Junu felt the truth of that deep in his bones. He was alone. He was always alone.

“Go back to them,” Hyuk said again before turning and fading into the shadows with the spirit, leaving Junu behind. He was always being left behind. Turning, he walked out of the warehouse, dialing 119 as he went.

“I need to report a disturbance.”

44

SOMIN ACHED EVERYWHERE. Her world was awash in white and pain.

“Somin-ah,” someone called to her.

“Hello?” she shouted, her voice echoing into a great abyss. “Who’s there? Where are we?”

“Somin-ah. Be careful.”

“Where are you? I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“I’m sorry I cannot protect you. That I left you.”

No, it couldn’t be. It was impossible. How could he be here?

A sob left Somin’s chest as she whispered, “Appa?”

“My daughter. I’m sorry that you feel pain. I’m sorry that you must feel more.”

Somin woke slowly. She felt the tears streaming down her cheeks as the echoes of the dream lingered.

As she regained her senses, she realized there was a throbbing ache in her back, and she turned onto her side to find a more comfortable position. But the motion made her dozen bruises throb, and she jerked upright.

Memories of the day came flooding back to her, the horror and the pain of it.

Somin blinked against the dark room. There was a single lamp on in the corner, and she realized she was lying on Junu’s couch. She stood, walking to the bedrooms. All of the doors were closed, but the doorway of Miyoung’s room had half a dozen bujeoks plastered to it. Odd. Why would Miyoung put those there?

She turned to look for her friends. The entire apartment was mostly dark, with only the guiding light of the kitchen to tell her where to go.

Where was everyone? What happened at the restaurant? What happened to Mr. Ahn?

She reached for a cabinet, when she heard steps behind her. She whirled around, holding out a mug as a shield or a weapon or both. But she let her hand drop when she saw Miyoung, a pharmacy bag in her hand.

“You’re awake,” she said, rushing forward and dropping the bag on the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” Somin croaked out, and blinked at the strange frog-like voice that had come out.

“I’ll get you water. Sit down.” Miyoung took the mug. Usually Somin hated people taking care of her—that was her job—but she was already shaky on her legs, so she sat at the kitchen table.

“I have to call my mother,” she said. “She’ll wonder where I am.”

“I already called her last night. I told her you’re staying here. She said that was good. She doesn’t want you spending the night worrying about her alone.”

“Last night?” Somin asked.

“It’s morning. You slept through the night.”

Somin let out a shaky breath. “Where’s Junu?”

Miyoung paused in the act of pouring water. “He hasn’t come back yet.”

There was something in her tone, something that spoke of burdensome things.

“What happened?” Somin asked. “How did we get back here?”

“We brought you back after . . .” Miyoung shook her head, unable to continue as she held out the mug.

Instead of taking the water, Somin latched on to Miyoung’s wrist and tugged at her bloodstained sleeves. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” Somin pushed up the fabric to find the wound. Miyoung yelped in surprise and yanked her arm back, but Somin had already moved on, noticing blood splattered over Miyoung’s shirt.

“What is this?” she asked frantically. “Please tell me what happened. Tell me who’s hurt. Or . . .” Somin couldn’t bring herself to say the words or who’s dead.

“I can’t.”

“Is it Jihoon?” Somin finally brought herself to ask, dreading the answer.

“No. He’s alive.”

“Where is he? How do we get that fox spirit out of him? Can I see him?”

Miyoung seemed to fold in on herself at the barrage of questions. Her eyes couldn’t meet Somin’s, and her hands shook before she fisted them together.

“What is it?”