Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(43)

“And what is a man?” Jihoon asked.

“Dinner.” She chuckled as Jihoon stopped short, giving her a raised brow.

“Myth says men are the sun and the moon is his wife,” Miyoung said. “The moon and the sun both live in the sky but they are not together.”

“It’s just a fable.”

“I live in a world of fables.”

“But you live in the human world, too. You go to school. You do homework. You ride the bus.”

Miyoung heard a note of frustration in Jihoon’s voice, but couldn’t decipher why.

“My mother thinks it best I learn to naturally assimilate. What better crash course in the pitfalls of humanity than public school?”

Jihoon gave a hearty laugh, his dimples deepening. The sound of it warmed her.

“Well, it’s working. Hating school is as normal as you can get.”

“I don’t hate school.” Miyoung sighed. In fact, she loved it. Learning new things, being able to pretend she could have such basic problems as homework and tests. “But school comes with kids, a lot of them. And gumiho don’t do well in crowds.”

“Why?”

“In all the old folktales, we lived in mountains, feeding off travelers. There’s a reason for that.”

Jihoon nodded, and the lack of disgust on his face encouraged her.

“People don’t travel cross-country by foot anymore. So we need to be where the people live. But the more people we’re around, the more likely someone will figure us out.”

“Is that so bad?”

Of course he would ask, but not everyone was like Jihoon.

“My mother knew a gumiho once. She believed we could be honest with those we loved. Perhaps they only feared the myth of the gumiho because they’d only been shown the monstrous sides of us. After all, if they loved us when they thought we were human, shouldn’t they love us no matter what?”

“And?” Jihoon asked, leaning forward, curiosity clear on his face.

“Let’s just say it didn’t end well for that gumiho.” Miyoung didn’t feel like rehashing the doomed tale. “Crowds can become mobs very easily.”

“People get scared when you eat them.” Jihoon shrugged. And though the words should have upset Miyoung, they didn’t because he said them so matter-of-factly. No judgment, just truth. Patented Jihoon.

“If I don’t feed every month, I’ll die. Maybe it’s selfish to choose myself over so many others, but what choice would you make?”

Jihoon frowned and she knew she’d gotten him with that question.

“You really can’t find another way?”

A weight pulled on Miyoung’s heart. Of course he’d ask. He was probably afraid of that part of her nature. And she couldn’t blame him, though it hurt more than she was expecting. She gripped her bead tighter. “If I stop absorbing gi for a hundred days, I’ll die. I trade human energy for my life and for immortality.”

“Oh yeah,” Jihoon said, eyeing Miyoung. “I’ve been meaning to ask how old . . .” He trailed off with a conflicted purse of his lips.

“Are you asking me if I’m an old lady in an eighteen-year-old body?”

“Well, since you bring it up.”

“I’m really only eighteen.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s older than the country we know now.”

“She sounds formidable,” Jihoon said with a grin. “No wonder you never have friends over.”

She smiled, leaning her head back to glance up at him. She hadn’t realized they stood so close. The umbrella left little room between them. Jihoon stood hunched a bit as he held the umbrella low over them both. At this angle, with her chin tilted, their faces were exactly lined up. Eye to eye, nose to nose, mouth to mouth.

He smelled of salt and rain, with just a hint of something smooth beneath. The scent of his skin, sweet like cream. It made it hard for her to think.

Miyoung gave herself a mental pep talk. You are Gu Yena’s daughter. You are strong. You are beautiful. You are smart. You will not be shaken.

It didn’t work.

She wanted to let herself give in to the warm feeling spreading through her belly. It was a sensation she’d never experienced before and all she knew was she wanted to hold on to it a bit longer.

Men only want one thing from us, her mother’s voice echoed.



She took a step back, retreating from Jihoon’s unblinking gaze. When he looked at her like that, it made her think he saw right through her. Down to all of the secrets even she had never explored. It terrified and thrilled her at the same time.

Her senses went into overdrive. She took another step back to escape the overwhelming energy. A horn blared and she blinked as headlights barreled toward her. Why was a car on the sidewalk?

Jihoon swooped his arms around her, spinning them so quickly, her head continued to turn even as they stopped. The horn blasted as the car sped by, missing them by centimeters.

Jihoon hugged her tightly, his heart jackrabbiting against her ears, her face buried in his chest. She smelled laundry detergent, faint on his shirt. His hand trembled as he stroked her hair. And the white noise finally cleared from her ears.

“—can’t believe you wouldn’t look where you’re stepping, babo-ya.”