A new scar had appeared right between her shoulders blades, something she discovered as she showered. She couldn’t tell what it was but she felt the thrum of power when her fingers flowed over it.
“Jin?”
She looked up and Aiden was staring at her. And as always with Aiden, there was this enigma lying in those beautiful brown eyes of his that spoke of his love in ways that his words quite couldn’t capture. She was reminded of a magnolia in that instance. A magnolia was ancient, old, tough, yet beautiful. It survived, it persisted, and it endured.
They survived. They persisted. They endured.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
She blinked, dragging her gaze from him in general, like his overall presence, like the way his collar was kind of crooked on one side or how he would look with dimples and why the hell was his hair so damn perfect and how does he take up all of the space in the room and suck all of the air out of her lungs with one look, and began focusing…on his face. His lips. No, his face. “Maybe?” she tried. When he pouted, she laughed. “Okay, no. Not a word.”
“We have no food. Nothing. There’s a can of tuna but I’m not even sure why we would buy tuna.”
“I hate tuna.”
“You hate tuna,” Aiden echoed. “So I was thinking, take out but…”
It was instantaneous and she guessed that came from knowing him for so long. She could read his mind, could see the fear, the apprehension, his dogged pull to being some sort of protective barrier between her and the dangers of the world blasting like floodlights in those same beautiful brown eyes.
“I’m safe, Aiden. We’re safe. Go get a damn burger.”
“I lost you once–”
She snapped because goddamn it! “No, you’ve technically lost me four times. Quit bringing it up. I need to be tagged and chipped? I need a bell around my neck? Let it go. It has nothing to do with you.”
He took a step closer, something dark reflecting in his eyes. “It has everything to do with me.”
“No, it doesn’t. Remember, it was me who protected us and me who found us a way out. Not you.” She closed her eyes and sat up in bed, realizing how harsh her words were. “I don’t mean it the way it sounds. I’m…” she raked her hands through her white hair. “I’m not trying to–”
“I know,” he admitted, confessed. “I keep telling you I’m going to get better about this and I don’t. I just don’t.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. Something has changed, Aiden,” she stressed. “It has and I don’t want us to continue moving around like you’re poison. That I’m helpless.”
“I know you’re not helpless.”
“You gotta act like it then, babe. Whatever they said to you, ignore it. You are not the reason I died. And if I do ever die,” she trailed off as thoughts of otherworld Aiden and Zion fluttered across her memory, “then I need you to remember that we are not one. That you are whole and complete without me.”
“No, we’re not doing this. We’re not having some kind of goddamn death talk hours after your soul was dragged from death’s door.”
She huffed, irritated, annoyed, angry. Concerned. She was concerned. “You have scars, and you refused to look at them because you’re too busy looking at mine!”
“I know that!” he screamed and Jin went stiff. His anger sounded like the anger Aiden from Discord had shown. One that was frustrated and scared and dealing with a woman who didn’t understand that. “That’s what trauma does to you. If fucks up the way you look at things, bends everything to shit. You died, Jin. You died. I saw you die and it has fucked me up. You stopped breathing and you were–were bleeding and I couldn’t feel your heartbeat and your eyes–” He paused, his eyes beyond haunted. “….And despite how cruel that is to me, I know you’re okay! You’re okay. You’re magically okay, now! But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to be worried about you. Remember that every once in a while.” His hands fell to his side, but only so he could dig in his pocket and withdraw the keys to the apartment. “I’m going to go get you a damn burger.”
“Aiden, please don’t, I–.”
He turned and walked away from her and Jin’s eyes slid closed as the sound of the door opened and closed.
“Great job, Jin,” she groaned.
She felt a sudden chill and realized that she never finished getting dressed. At least that’s what she told herself. Jin moved from the bed to the closet, surprised her clothes and dresser were still there. Grimacing at the dresses pushed to the back, she pulled open a drawer and grabbed a pair of underwear–apparently Khione hadn’t believed in them–and sweats to lounge in until Aiden came back. Then she would sit him down and explain everything. About the other Aiden and Zion. About the pain in Aiden’s eyes or the sadness in Zion’s screams. She wanted him to let go of his insecurities and guilt and sorrow because he didn’t deserve it. She wanted him to trust her.
She slipped the sweats on and began to climb back in the bed when the sound of the knob turning caught her attention. He must have forgotten his wallet. I should surprise him. Jump out and scare him, the kiss him and force him to forgive me!
She giggled, scrambled from the bed and slid into the kitchen, positioning herself right next to their pantry. She watched the door handle jiggle again, harder this time. Did he forget his keys too? No. I saw them in his hands.
The jiggling stopped but the warning signs in Jin’s head began to fire. She didn’t know who could be looking for them, what they could want with them, or how they even knew they were there but Jin didn’t care. Goddamn it, she was so tired of being chased.
She heard voices, multiple voices on the outside and a key being jammed into the lock. Jin slipped her necklace on and took the biggest breath of her life, fear now mingling in with her frustration. The door was shoved open and light from the hallway flooded into their apartment. Two people walked in, their shadows casting black blobs across her living room.
The lit end of a cigarette.
Jin’s heart thudded in her chest. Adrenaline began to rush. Something like terror tightened around her throat.
The intruders marched through the apartment, neither speaking to the other, the overhead light in their bedroom like a beacon guiding them towards it. Seconds later, she heard the first voice.
“What good is breaking in if she’s not in here?” The voice was light, amused, with a drawl of practiced English and a slight accent. “Don’t make sense. We saw her boyfriend leave, so she’s gotta be somewhere.”
“Boyfriend,” the second voiced growled. “Whatever.”
Jin exhaled slowly to keep herself from screaming. She knew that voice. She knew that voice.
“You sure Zicon was unconscious when we left? Maybe he made a phone call?” asked the first voice.
“No. She’s here. I can smell her,” Shen spat. The floorboards creaked as he turned. “Jinni,” he sang. “Come out. I want to play, baby.”
Run! The door is open. Just slip out, run, and don’t stop running until you’re safe. Run!
Fear has approached you…
Instead, Jin stepped out of the safety of the darkness in the kitchen. “Yes, Shen?” she said as she stood tall, her head held high. She stared at a nightmare that just wouldn’t go away.
The two men whipped around to face her. The taller one had a face she’d seen in a photo Shen had shown her once as someone to avoid. Feilong. The second face belonged to...
“Look at you being brave,” Shen quipped, a faint smile pulling at his lips. He held a hand to his heart. “I think I’m proud.”
Jin tilted her head to the side. “Here to kill me, again? Aren’t you getting tired of this yet?”
“Tired of you? Never baby.” Shen’s smile morphed into a disgusting grin. “Why don’t you make this easy? Just get on your knees like the old days when you were a good girl. Open your mouth nice and slow and take what I give you,” he said, nastily, “except for this time,
I’m going to scatter your brains all over this carpet. Something artistic for Aiden to come home to.”
She offered him a bored stare. “And if I don’t.”
“Then I’ll have to force you and that might be as much fun as you giving in.”
Jin’s next words were a lot braver than she felt, a lot more compassionate than she felt. “I’m giving you a chance to leave, Shen. Even now, I don’t want to hurt you.”
He snorted. “You can’t. You’re incapable of destruction, Jinni.”
She sighed and her shoulders deflated. “So be it,” she uttered low in her throat.
Change the rules. Own this space. Make him pay.
Before either of them could blink or move, she grabbed a broom propped against the wall and attacked first, surprising Shen but not Feilong. He responded quickly, blocking the hard handle from hitting him across the head. She yanked it in the other direction, and Shen caught the stiff bristles to his face.
Stumbling back, he lunged for her, but Feilong held a hand out. “You’re emotional. Let me handle her.”
Shen shook her head. “Nobody gets to kill her but me,” he snarled.
Feilong shrugged but nodded which was enough for Shen to take a step back.
From her recollection of Shen’s stories, Feilong was a brawler. She glanced at his foot placement as he sized her up. Wide, front facing, his hands balled at his side. Numbers started ticking off in Jin’s head, colors–black, onslaught.
Jin flipped her broom upside down and began to unscrew the base from the long wooden handle until all she was left with was the staff. It wasn’t a spear but it was all she had.
Feilong faked jumped at her, and in response, Jin thrust her makeshift bō up, smacking him hard under his chin. As his head flew back, Jin jumped into attack and landed a succession of blows, all to the soft vulnerable spots he’d left open. She lunged forward and rammed the bō into his midsection. Mistake. He caught the staff and snatched it out of her hands before breaking it over his knee and throwing it away.
“Stupid bitch! That hurt!”
Duh. It was supposed to hurt.
Feilong charged at her, wrapping his arms around her torso and tackling her. He rushed forward until her back collided with the wall. Jin coughed as the air left her lungs, watching as Feilong stood over her, his leg poised to kick her. Yeah right. Jin rolled out of the way and scrambled into the kitchen. She snatched the first knife she could reach out of the block–a long edged cutting knife.
Feilong swiped across the counter and Jin swung at him, the knife slicing into his forearm. He hissed and drew back. Angered, he turned towards Shen. “You told me she couldn’t fight! That she could barely hold a gun right!”
Shen looked shocked, like someone had dumped ice water over his head. “I don’t know what the hell is happening but pay the fuck attention!”
Too late. She rammed the knife into the meaty part of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger, watching as he howled in pain. She wrenched the blade free and sliced at him again, this time the blade finding his neck. Blood spurted out of his wound and he stumbled back, his hand slapped against his neck.
Jin stared at the knife in shock but didn’t drop it. Her eyes glanced up at Feilong, who seemed more concerned with trying to get the warm glow emanating from his hands to grow. He was trying to heal himself. A Mutare? He’ll be disorientated if he succeeds. Too crazed to focus on another round. Which was fine. She didn’t have an issue with him.
Her gaze shifted to Shen. Fear flashed across his eyes for a moment, but it was replaced by a hard glare, one full of disgust and obsession. “Spend a few weeks with some angels and you’ve learned a thing or two I see.”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” she shot back. “I’m giving you one last chance. Take your friend with you and leave.”
“You can’t kill me, Jin. You can try but you don’t have the heart.” Shen planted his feet and glared at her with enough venom to kill. “I want you to try, though. I want you to hate me just as much as I hate you.”
“I do hate you,” she spat. “I hate everything about you. I hate that you have the power to make my life a living hell. I hate the fact that I loved you to begin with!”
“Same here,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “So what do you want to do about it?”
She tipped her head back. “Let’s end it.”
“Smartest thing you’ve ever said,” he growled.
AJ, are you there?
Yes, my love. I am.
I need you.
Say the words.
“Araboth path.” Power coursed through her, magnified times over from the feeling she felt on Discord. She could feel it in every part of her, every muscle, every cell.
She felt powerful.
She was powerful.
“2nd disciple,” she whispered. “I command you!”
CHAPTER
ONE HUNDRED SIX
Yeoksam-dong, Gangnam
February 14th
Years Ago …
“Awww, the cheap stuff! Baby, you remembered.”
Shen snorted and swirled a dark liquid in his glass. “I don’t know how you stomach this shit.”
“It’s easy,” she said as she motioned to her mouth with her head. Shen lifted his glass and placed it against her lips. She drank and sighed like it was the greatest drink in the world. “We used to have these field parties in Monck’s Corner–it’s where my grandmother lived. All of my ancestors who were brought over to Belle Island Plantation were buried somewhere in that town. Anyways, there wasn’t anything out there to do other thanfarm and get pregnant and that was out of the question, my Nana would kill me. So we would gather out in this old field, bring music, some moonshine–”
“Moonshine?”
“Homemade liquor,” Jin answered as she moved to a bowl full of ingredients. “Like makgeolli, but if makgeolli was made with rocket fuel instead of rice. But it was cheap and it was good. I didn’t start drinking the fancy stuff until I met you. This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever.”
Shen chuckled. “To avoid being an overemotional lush, I’ll wish you Happy Valentine’s Day now before I drink any more of this mess.”
“Oh, trust me, you’ll love being an overemotional lush after you get drunk off convenience store liquor,” she laughed.
“I bet,” he murmured.
“Try it,” Jin said, her eyes wide. “Give me the sappiest thing you can think of.”
“Um…” he looked down at the glass before looking back up. He was trying to wipe the seriousness off his face but he’d never been good with hiding his emotions behind false facial expression. “Is this what love is supposed to feel like? Because to be honest with you, it feels like I’m dying.”
“Oh my god. That’s so romantic,” Jin said, giggling. “My love makes you feel like you’re dying. You should put that in iambic pentameter.”
“I mean, my heart is beating fast. My palms are sweaty and I want to tell you really icky sweet things. I don’t do icky sweet things.”
“Spare me the theatrics.” She looked at him with a smirk sitting at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve been in love before.”
“Um…actually?” He coughed. “No.”
Jin paused kneading the dough in the bowl. The smirk eased from her face until it was still with contemplation. “Never?”
He took another sip of her cheap wine and kept his eyes firmly on the glass. “No.”
The silence stretched long and for a moment Shen wished he’d never said anything to begin with. Jin already held a power of him, to make him do things he normally wouldn’t do, to act differently, a touch of softness he’d never handed out before. Sometimes he would tell Jin something serious and she would laugh it off. Maybe because Shen’s declarations were few and in between their daily interactions of just knowing–knowing they loved each other, knowing they cared, and knowing they would be together forever. Maybe he should speak up more often. Then she wou
ldn’t laugh.
She didn’t laugh. She removed her hands from the dough, washed them, walked around the bar until she was standing in front of him. Taking the wine glass out of his hands, she intertwined their fingers and stared at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Shen tilted his head. “For what?”
“For letting me be the first. Now it feels like I’m the one who’s dying. My heart is beating all fast.”
Shen snorted before laughing. “Serves you right!”
“You should kiss me and make it all better doctor.”
Shen obliged her, taking the offering of her sweet lips with pleasure. He knocked his forehead against hers softly when they pulled back. “I do love you, Jinni,” he whispered. His declaration.
She kissed him again. “I know.”
CHAPTER
ONE HUNDRED SEVEN
Bethesda Terrace and Fountain Central Park
Manhattan, New York
Shen had felt pain before. Physically, he’d been roughed up a few times. Becoming the leader of the 5-Star Mob had come with its fair share of ass kickings. Emotional pain? Of course. When he lost his father to gang warfare, his mother to AIDS, his best friend at the end of a policeman’s gun.
When Jin left. When he found out she was testifying against him.
Even when he was still capable of forgiving her, the fact that she’d never shown up to the jail to visit, never wrote a letter, never made a phone call…that’s what really hurt.
This current pain was a combination of the two. Emotionally, the shock of Jin wanting him dead had resonated painfully in him. He still felt for her, wanted her. Her rejection burned his soul.
“Araboth path. Second disciple,” she whispered. “I command you!”
A Third of the Moon and the Stars Struck Page 58