Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(60)

Miyoung recovered too quickly. Her hands wrapped around his knees. Her teeth found the meat of his calf. They cut through cloth and flesh. Jihoon screamed, a high shriek that echoed through the woods.

He kicked and clawed as she rolled him onto his back.

“I’m starving.” The words vibrated her whole torso as she pinned him to the ground again.

Jihoon couldn’t move and she crouched lower, her heavy huffs blowing his hair.

“Miyoung-ah.” Jihoon pushed every plea, every desperate note he could, into the word.

She stopped. Her brow furrowed.

“Please, it’s me, Ahn Jihoon.” In desperation, he started rambling. “You hate my jokes and you think I talk too much. You’re scared of the water. My halmeoni made you doenjang jjigae. You said you wouldn’t kill me. You said you wouldn’t.” A tear tracked down his cheek.

Miyoung jerked up, her eyes clearing. “Jihoon?”

Then her body began to convulse. She shuddered and fell against his shoulder.

Jihoon pulled free from her weight, crouching over her.

“If you’re smart, you’ll leave her alone.” The shaman girl stepped out of the trees.

Jihoon had a feeling of déjà vu, seeing her face. “Do I know you?”

“What? No.” The shaman’s voice was sharp.

“Ah,” Jihoon replied, but he couldn’t let go of the strange feeling.

“You’re the brightness,” the girl said. “The sun chased by shadows. She’s the shadows.”

“You don’t know anything about us,” Jihoon said, moving to block Miyoung.

The older shaman moved out of the shadows of the woods, her eyes hard as they locked on to Miyoung. “We know far more than you think,” the halmeoni said.

“Well, I don’t care what you think you know. Leave us alone,” Jihoon said.

“Do you ever stop to ask yourself if she deserves this loyalty? She’s a killer.” The girl’s voice was a clear bell of accusation.

“Wait, I remember now. Where I’ve seen you,” Jihoon said as recognition dawned.

“We’ve never met before.”

“No.” Jihoon drew out the word as he tried to grab on to the memory. A ghostly shape receding into the forest as he desperately grappled with a dokkaebi. “I’ve seen you before.”

“No, you haven’t,” she insisted.

“You were there when I met Miyoung for the first time. I thought you were a ghost, but you were in the forest when she lost that bead.”



“What?” The question cracked through the forest. Miyoung sat up behind Jihoon.

“Nara.” Miyoung’s eyes held fire as they latched on to the girl. “Tell me what you’ve done.”

But it was the old shaman who replied. “What she must to rid this world of a demon.”





31





MIYOUNG DIDN’T KNOW what hurt more, the betrayal that bloomed in her chest or the agonizing flames that still shot through her veins.

“Nara?” When Miyoung stood, Jihoon tried to steady her, but she pushed him off. She didn’t want help. She didn’t need help.

“It’s a long story,” Nara said. The words meant nothing. There was no explanation that could dampen the blow even as Miyoung wished for one.

“You should leave,” Shaman Kim said to Jihoon, though her eyes never left Miyoung. “You don’t need to become involved.”

“I don’t leave my friends when they’re in trouble,” Jihoon said.

Now Shaman Kim’s cold gaze raked over him. “A smart man would not stand too close to a gumiho on a full moon.”

“I think I can make that decision for myself.” Jihoon gripped Miyoung’s hand, his fingers lacing through hers. His conviction eased the ache that surrounded her heart.

“Nara, why does Jihoon think he saw you that night?” Miyoung asked.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Nara said.

“Did you send that dokkaebi?”

The young shaman frowned, like a child caught in her own lie, and Miyoung’s heart cracked.

“Why would you do that?”

“I needed the bead,” Nara said, like it was explanation enough, but it only created a dozen more questions that spun so fast Miyoung felt nauseated.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy scene?” A form, lithe and sleek, moved out of the shadows. Her steps so light, the leaves beneath her stayed silent. As she stepped into the moonlight, Yena’s eyes zeroed in on her daughter.

She glanced at Miyoung’s hand, still encased in Jihoon’s. Miyoung tried to pull away, but Jihoon only held on tighter.

“I never thought I’d see you again, Kim Hyunsook,” Yena said.

“You know each other?” Miyoung looked between her mother and Shaman Kim, then to Nara, who looked surprisingly unsurprised.

What was happening?

With every new revelation, it felt like the world was falling away, piece by piece, until she was left hanging on to nothing.

Jihoon squeezed her hand, a reminder that there was still something to cling to.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Shaman Kim glared at Yena.

“You have. You’ve gotten old and ugly,” Yena replied, her eyes like daggers. “What are you doing here, Miyoung?”