Vicious Spirits Read online

  “Somin-ah, I’m going to go buy some drinks for the movers. They’re working so hard, and it’s so hot, you could bake an egg in there. Can you keep everything in order here?”

  “Sure,” Somin said. She was used to her mother trusting her to take charge of things. It had been that way since she was a little girl. Her mother used to say she was so serious about everything she did, wanting it all to be absolutely perfect. I’m so lucky to have a daughter like you, her mother always said. I had no idea what I was doing, but you made it so easy for me.

  Somin used to love that her mother said that. It made her feel so useful. Though the truth of her childhood was that Somin had raised her mother just as much as her mother had raised her.

  On her way back to the apartment, Somin stopped short when she spotted Junu outside, fanning himself as he perched on the railing of the stairs. Somin considered just giving him a push. The two-story fall probably wouldn’t kill him with his fast dokkaebi reflexes. But it would give Somin great satisfaction.

  He lifted his head, perhaps alerted by the sound of her steps, or maybe it was those supernatural dokkaebi senses. He sent her a cocky grin.

  Somin ignored him and tried to walk around, but he blocked her path.

  “What’s the rush?” Junu asked. “Didn’t you leave to get away from the stuffy apartment?”

  “I left to get away from you.”

  Junu laughed, the opposite reaction she’d wanted. “Lee Somin, your words hurt.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I mean it. I’ve never been quite so . . . intrigued by a person before. Can’t you give me a chance?”

  Somin glared at the suave words. Junu’s beauty was both smooth and hard. The kind of face that looked better with a smirk. And Junu always took advantage of his best features, so his mocking smile was pretty much a permanent fixture.

  It’s why Somin had hated just the sight of his smug face from the day she’d met him. What did he have to be so confident about? It’s not like he worked hard for that face. The luck of being born with good looks wasn’t something to brag about. And to make matters worse, every time he spoke, heads turned. As if everything he said was the most important thing in the world. He probably thought so, as nine times out of ten, he spoke about himself. Pompous ass.

  “Not if you were the last boy on earth.”

  “Good thing I’m not only a boy.” Junu’s grin widened.

  Somin made a gagging noise deep in her throat. “Don’t make me throw up.”

  “I bet I could change your mind if I put any effort into it.”

  She let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “I’d love to see you try.” She’d blurted it out before she had time to think. Or remember the fact that the dokkaebi loved to take things literally just to piss her off.

  Junu’s grin turned into a full-fledged smile. “Would you, now?”

  Something seemed to take over Somin, an overwhelming sense of competitiveness that she couldn’t fight. She lifted her chin and said, “Of course. Give it your best shot.”

  He took a step forward and every muscle in Somin’s body tensed, but she didn’t step back. She knew Junu’s type, and she knew he was bluffing. She refused to lose at this game.

  “I’d say that I love everything about you. I love your hair.” He picked up a strand of her shoulder-length hair and let it sift through his fingers. She held her head rigid, the sight of his fingers a blur in the corner of her eyes. She refused to take her gaze from his. This was a game of wills, and hers was made of steel.

  “I love your hands,” Junu said, picking one up. He studied it, letting a smile quirk the corner of his mouth. Somin searched for the mocking in the tilt of his lips, but instead he looked purely enamored as he let their fingers intertwine. He was good. But she wouldn’t be swayed by pretty words and quick smiles.

  “I love your lips.” His eyes lifted again, landing on the new object of his faux affection. His hand tightened around hers, and his body moved closer. His eyes filled her vision. He tilted his head down. Her heart was sprinting at a breakneck speed. So fast it practically hummed in her chest. She wondered how it didn’t cause her whole body to vibrate. Or was it and she was just numb to it? Still she didn’t move. She waited as he brought his mouth within a centimeter of hers.

  “I love everything you possess,” he said, his words breathed over her lips. “I’d like to possess it, too.”

  Somin’s heart was racing, and she told herself it was the heat.

  “You use the word love so selfishly,” Somin said.

  And perhaps it was shock at her words, or perhaps it was him tiring of his own game, but Junu finally moved back. She’d won, though she didn’t feel the triumph that she wanted as her heart continued to sprint.

  “Selfish?” Junu asked, letting her hand drop from his.

  “You use it to mean you want to own a person. That’s a pretty selfish sentiment,” Somin said, thanking the gods that her voice came out smooth and calm. “You love what a girl has, not what she is.”

  A silent beat passed before Junu threw his head back and let out a loud, guffawing laugh. “Oh, Lee Somin, you are definitely an opponent to be reckoned with.” Junu spoke in such an antiquated way. And worse, he sounded good doing it.

  “Is it any wonder I look forward to our little sparring matches?”

  “They’re not sparring matches. I genuinely hate you,” Somin said.

  “Hate to love,” Junu said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

  Whatever Somin would have said in retort was interrupted by a gruff voice behind them. “This where Nam Soonboon lives?”

  “Not anymore,” Somin said, turning around.

  “Where’s my good-for-nothing son?” the man said, and Somin lifted a brow, surprised.

  She only had a vague memory of Jihoon’s father. But she could tell the years hadn’t been kind to him. He was tall—it must be where Jihoon had gotten his height—but he hunched over like he hadn’t the energy to hold his frame up. He had thinning gray hair, a pockmarked face, and lines radiating from his squinting eyes. A cigarette hung from his fingers, still lit, as if he’d just pulled it from between his lips.

  This was the last person Jihoon needed to see today.

  “Not sure who you’re referring to, sir,” Junu said, his voice pleasant, but there was a spark in his eye. A sharpness that Somin had never seen in the dokkaebi before.

  “Who the hell do you think my son is? That good-for-nothing ingrate who doesn’t even have the courtesy to pay any respects to his father in fifteen years.”

  That was it. Somin couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. “Maybe he would have if he’d even known where you were.”

  “Do I know you?” Mr. Ahn drawled as he glared at her.

  “I’m Jihoon’s friend, and I’ve been in his life for the past fifteen years.”

  “Why, you little brat,” Mr. Ahn said, clenching his yellowed teeth.

  Somin started forward, but Junu’s hand stopped her. It wasn’t restraining, but it served to get her to pause, to take a beat. For the first time ever, Somin was grateful that he was here or else she didn’t know what she’d say (or do) to Jihoon’s father.

  “Well, seeing as this is the first time we’re meeting, I believe introductions are in order.” Junu held out a hand. “I’m Junu, and you are . . . ?”

  Mr. Ahn ignored him and turned to shout, “Ya, Ahn Jihoon! You come out and greet your father, you ungrateful boy.”

  The door opened, and Jihoon stepped out. His expression was blank and cold. Except Somin knew him well enough to notice the tic in his jaw. Miyoung stepped out as well, her eyes hard, like she was ready for a fight.

  “What are you doing here?” Jihoon’s voice was low and clipped.

  “A few months ago, a private investigator came sniffing around. Said he was hired by some big-shot Seoul cop to
find me. Said it had to do with my son. So I thought it was about time to come see how you were doing.” Jihoon’s father puffed on his cigarette, blowing out smoke in lazy clouds.

  Big-shot Seoul cop. That could only mean one person. Hae Taewoo. Miyoung’s fists clenched. She must have been thinking the same thing Somin was. That her father, a man who had gotten close to Jihoon in order to find Miyoung, was still messing with their lives from beyond the grave. He’d tried to kill Miyoung this past spring, and now his actions had brought Jihoon’s father back to town.

  It also wasn’t lost on Somin that the private investigator had found Jihoon’s father a few months ago, but he’d still waited to come. Probably because he needed something now.

  “You guys, can I have a minute alone?” Jihoon asked.

  Somin wanted to say no, and from Miyoung’s silence, she seemed to feel the same way.

  Jihoon must have sensed it as well, because he said to his father, “Can we go downstairs to talk in private?”

  Instead of replying, the man gestured for Jihoon to lead the way.

  When Somin moved to follow them down the stairs, Junu held her back. “He wants to handle this alone.”

  Somin wanted to object. She wanted to shout that this was unfair. That Jihoon didn’t deserve this. But she’d learned that what was right and fair was rarely what happened in this world. Her friends’ broken lives were all proof of that. So she turned back to Miyoung.

  “We can’t just stand here. That man is a bastard who abused Jihoon as a kid!”

  Miyoung’s eyes were glued to the top of the stairs. “I’d like to siphon away all his energy and leave his body to rot.”

  Even Somin was shocked by the vitriol she heard in Miyoung’s voice. “Can you still do that?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Then she sighed. “But when my father came back, I needed to be able to face him alone. Jihoon probably needs to do the same.” Miyoung stepped into the apartment.

  And, outnumbered, Somin followed behind her.

  6

  JUNU HAD TOLD Somin to allow Jihoon to face his father, but that didn’t mean Jihoon should be left without backup. Junu could tell Mr. Ahn was the type of person who abandoned the ones who needed him most until he could come around and leech off them. There were only two reasons for a man like that to come around: He was running from something or he wanted something. Either way, he should be dealt with quickly and efficiently.

  Junu leaned against the front of the building, out of sight from the front windows, but close enough that with his dokkaebi hearing he could make out what was being said inside.

  “There’s nothing for you here,” Jihoon was saying.

  Don’t show weakness, Junu thought. Make him think he doesn’t affect you. Don’t let him have a piece of your pride.

  “That’s not for you to decide,” Mr. Ahn said. There was the sound of lips puffing on the cigarette. A nasty habit, if you asked Junu.

  “You can go through the place, but you won’t find anything but dirt. Might be fitting, I guess,” Jihoon said.

  There was the sound of a smack. Skin against skin. The kind made from an open palm. A slap instead of a punch. A move meant to embarrass just as much as it was meant to hurt.

  The sound of it painted Junu’s vision red. He clenched his fists, his skin burning hot with his anger. And he knew it wasn’t just normal rage, but the beginning of dokkaebi fire. No, he hadn’t used it in centuries, and he wouldn’t break now. Not even as memories of his own broken childhood flooded back. Junu’s father had liked to punish with equal parts pain and humiliation. But his father had been dead for centuries and Jihoon’s father, though a bastard, was a human. It wouldn’t do to intercede or to use supernatural means to do so.

  “You can’t hurt me anymore.” Jihoon’s voice was hard with defiance. Junu nodded in approval. Good. Don’t let him see your pain.

  “Ingrate. I clothed and fed you for your first four years, and this is the thanks I get?”

  “You barely took care of me and only did it because you were too cowardly to admit you couldn’t hack it as a husband and a father. When you went to jail, it was the best thing that ever happened to our family.”

  “I don’t see your slut of a mother here!” Mr. Ahn shouted. “How is she any better than me?”

  “Why did you come back?” Jihoon asked. “Was it for money?” There was the sound of coins hitting the floor. As if Jihoon had emptied his pockets.

  “Here. It’s all I have,” Jihoon said.

  “What about what your halmeoni left you? She must have had loads. Was always harping on me to save for your college. Where’s that money?”

  “It’s all gone now, used to pay rent so I didn’t have to live on the streets. And even if there was any left, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

  “Oh yeah? What makes you think you can stop me from just taking it?” Mr. Ahn asked with a grating laugh.

  “Want to find out?” Jihoon asked.

  Junu worried now. Mr. Ahn was a bully, which meant challenging him could cause him to lash out. Like a rabid animal afraid of losing ground. Junu thought it was time to intercede.

  “Don’t think this is the last you’ll see of me,” Mr. Ahn said, his voice a low hiss.

  Ah, so he was the other kind of bully. The coward kind.

  Junu heard the approach of footsteps and sank back into the shadows of the alley. He waited as Mr. Ahn started to storm past, then reached out and pulled the man into the darkness with him.

  “What the fu—”

  “I’m going to give this warning once,” Junu said, throwing Mr. Ahn against the wall. The man crumpled and fell on all fours. “You stay away from Jihoon and never come back.”

  Junu took a few bills from his wallet, large enough to make Mr. Ahn’s eyes widen. “This is all you’ll see from us, so be grateful for it and leave. Trust me when I say I know the right people to make you disappear quietly. Do you understand?”

  Mr. Ahn’s eyes didn’t leave the money in Junu’s hand as he nodded frantically.

  Junu threw the bills at him, letting them flutter on the ground.

  Jihoon’s father went scrambling on his hands and knees, scraping his knuckles against the asphalt in his rush to grab the money. Then he clambered to his feet. “I deserve more than this for all the trouble I went through over that boy.”

  “I doubt you troubled yourself at all for your son. And I don’t believe you have any plans to do so in the future. So take that money and go.”

  Mr. Ahn’s eyes darted around, like he was wondering if he had a chance. He lunged toward the wallet, but Junu grabbed the old man’s wrist before he could reach. Mr. Ahn let out a yelp, yanking free, a red burn circling his skin. “What the hell?”

  “Get out of here. Now. Before I change my mind,” Junu said through clenched teeth.

  Mr. Ahn didn’t need to be told twice as he turned and raced out of the alley.

  Junu was left to stare at his palms. They still burned hot from his anger. Dokkaebi fire was tied to strong emotions. And though his own father hadn’t been a pathetic alcoholic bully like Jihoon’s, he’d still been a man who cared more about himself than raising his own son. Seeing Mr. Ahn’s selfishness had triggered too many memories Junu had spent a long time burying.

  “You always did know how to make an impression.”

  Junu winced at the familiar voice. He almost pretended he didn’t hear it, but knew it would be futile.

  He’d been trying to avoid this. Ever since that dim-witted dokkaebi had arrived on his doorstep yesterday claiming “Hyuk” sent him. In fact, it had been an anxious energy that had caused him to leave his apartment today, seeking out company.

  Turning, Junu took in the sight of the reaper. He was beautiful. Taller than even Junu with a lean build. Full lips with a perfect Cupid’s bow. Thick lashes. Alabaster
skin that made him look like he was carved from marble. His beauty felt almost otherworldly. Though, Junu supposed that made sense, as Hyuk didn’t belong in this world. It’s what had originally drawn Junu to him, a being with the face of youth but an old soul. Someone that reminded Junu of his own predicament. Forever frozen at the end of his teen years but with the burden of eternity on his soul. Although Hyuk never seemed truly weighed down by his immortality, it was a balance that Junu used to seek, before he gave up on any kind of inner peace.

  Hyuk was dressed head to toe in black with a black wool fedora to match. If he were a mere mortal, Junu would worry the guy would get heat stroke, but he knew that jeoseung saja felt things differently, even when they visited the mortal world.

  “What are you doing here?” Junu asked, pasting a neutral expression on his face. Reapers weren’t known for being able to read human expressions; they were almost comically bad at it. But Hyuk had developed the ability to read Junu from their time together.

  “I would have thought you’d be expecting me. You did get my referral, didn’t you?”

  “Well, you’ve gone through a bit to get my attention,” Junu said. “What do you want?”

  Hyuk gave a stilted smile, but Junu knew the awkwardness in the reaper came from being unused to expressing human emotion. “I want nothing from you, old friend. In fact, I am here because I want to help you.”

  “How kind of you.” Junu made his voice so smooth you’d slip off it. His patience was wearing thin. And he knew Hyuk would take it for the subtle warning he meant.

  “It seems there’s something affecting our worlds.”

  “Something other than the normal, horrible ailments?” Junu asked with a lifted brow.

  “There is something in the Between. Something that’s connected to the land of the living, creating a tear.”

  “The Between?” Junu asked. He’d spent a lot of time with Hyuk, but even so, he had never fully understood the world of the reaper.

  “The Between is where souls stay before they’re able to pass on to the afterlife.”