Finally they could leave the set, and Cheongul headed straight for the drink table, grabbed a water bottle, and downed it in one long go. He sighed as he put the cap back on. It had been a long day, and the whole morning had been terrible. Right now he just wanted to go home to bed. He couldn’t, but he still wanted to. Honestly Cheongul just didn’t want to be around people. He knew Jin-woo had been trying to be helpful, but he still felt guilty, ashamed, and that was never conducive to positive social interaction.
“Cheongul-a.” Min-su’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to face her, swallowing hard. She looked like he felt: broken. “I… I wanted to apologize for… for this morning.”
“I’m the one who owes you an apology,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I… can we go somewhere more private to talk?” she asked. “This isn’t something I want to do out in the open.”
“Sure, I get it,” Cheongul said.
They found a quiet room not far from the set. Cheongul ushered her in and closed the door, locking it. He took one of the chairs next to the makeup table, and Min-su took another. For several moments neither of them said a word, and then, finally, Min-su chuckled softly.
“I don’t know where to begin,” she said.
“Then allow me.” Cheongul had been staring at the floor until that point. When he looked up at her, he allowed his fangs to drop and his eyes to go silver.
Her eyes widened. Cheongul remained still, waiting to see what she would do. She rose from her chair and approached him, stopping when their knees bumped. Slowly Min-su reached her hand forward and stroked her finger across his bottom lip, pushing it down a little farther to see his fangs. He tried to contain his shiver, but it wasn’t easy. When she stroked a fang, he couldn’t stop his groan.
“You’re not like me,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, feeling a little breathless. “I’m a Vampire.”
“A Vampire. I thought you smelled deliciously weird, but that never crossed my mind. Wow,” she said. “I’ve never met another…. I don’t even know what to call us, call me.”
“Those who change shape from one form to another are Shifters and there are many different types: wolves, bears, snakes, birds, cats…. I met a panda Shifter once. He was just as cuddly looking in his human form as he was in bear form and could be just as mean in both, but when referring to all of us in general, we are just called Spiritual Beings. Some people call us spirits, but that’s not accurate as all spirits are Spiritual Beings, but not all Spiritual Beings are spirits,” Cheongul said. “We don’t meet many like us either, just enough to know we’re not the only ones.”
“Us?”
“Myself, HanYin, Ki-tae, and Soon-joon-nim,” he explained. “We’re all the same.”
“How did you become one, a Vampire?” Min-su said.
“That’s… a long story, and not one I like to talk about a lot. Let’s just say a lot of unpleasant things led to my change, and while there have been some dark times since then, everything has been much better than before.”
“I don’t like to talk about my… change either,” she said, tracing the curve of his cheek with her fingers.
“I really want to kiss you,” Cheongul said quietly, trying to keep his urges in check.
“I really want you to kiss me,” she whispered.
Slowly Min-su leaned over, pulling her hair to one side. Cheongul tilted his head up. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist. The soft touch of her lips on his sent bolts of pleasure through his body. He gripped the arms of the chair to keep from grabbing Min-su and pulling her into his lap. The choice was taken out of his hands when she straddled him all on her own. Cheongul was not that strong. He gripped her hips and pulled her tight against him. She gave a little gasp and he took advantage of the opportunity, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth. He growled when she clenched her fingers in his hair and tugged just enough to sting. Cheongul couldn’t get enough of Min-su’s taste. He wanted more. Slowly he worked his way along her jaw. The soft mewing, growling sounds were sweet music. The urge to bite was strong, especially when she tilted her head as if in offering.
“Has anyone seen Min-su-ya?” Jong-in’s voice echoed through his head.
Cheongul pulled back, panting. He held Min-su away from him slightly. “We can’t do this.”
“What?”
“We…. I can’t do this,” he said as he rose, setting her on her feet. “I’m sorry, Min-su-ya.”
Cheongul hurried out of the room, rushing past Jong-in and Jin-woo as he left. He had no clear destination in mind. He just knew he had to get away. Putting on a burst of speed, he left the studio behind. Jong-in was his friend. Min-su was his, not Cheongul’s. He wasn’t going down that road again. He would never go down that road again. He would do the right thing this time. He would not give in to what his heart wanted, and he would not fight for someone who was already with another. Someday he would stop hoping to find someone who would love him for him despite what he was, despite his flaws. Someday.
Ki-tae
KI-TAE FOUND Jin-woo sitting with Jong-in and Min-su. None of them looked happy. When Jin-woo looked up, Ki-tae was surprised to see how angry he was. He tilted his head in curiosity. Had something happened?
“What’s wrong?” Ki-tae asked, squatting down before Min-su, as it appeared she was the one in need of comfort.
“I….”
“Cheongul-a is what’s wrong,” Jin-woo said angrily. “I didn’t realize he was a bigot.”
“What? He’s nothing of the sort,” Ki-tae said.
“Of course you’d say that. He’s your brother.”
“I don’t say that because he’s my brother. I say that because I know him,” Ki-tae said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you’d better start from the beginning.”
“I—” Min-su took a deep breath and then started again. “We went to one of the unused rooms to talk about… what happened earlier.”
“You mean when you sort of kicked his ass a little?” Ki-tae smiled, trying to lighten things a little.
“Something like that,” she said, giving him a little smile in return. “Anyway, wow, Vampire? So, we, um… that is I, we, dammit, this is embarrassing.”
“He kissed her and then fucking ran away!” Jin-woo snapped.
“I kissed him, Jin-woo-ya,” she corrected. “It was definitely mutual until he just, he said he couldn’t do this and then took off. It’s because I’m a… Shifter, isn’t it?”
“What else could it be? You’re awesome and he’s an ass!” Jin-woo said.
Ki-tae listened, but it wasn’t much. Yet he knew Cheongul, and so there had to be some other explanation for his behavior. From what Min-su said, his words didn’t indicate why he left, so as far as he could tell, the leap to “bigot” was a bit of a stretch. Looking into Min-su’s sad eyes, Ki-tae wanted to make her smile again, but this wasn’t something he could really crack a joke at, even if he’d gotten her to smile a few minutes ago. Besides, that tended to be HanYin’s thing. He took her hand in his.
“Don’t lose hope,” Ki-tae said. “I’ll talk to Cheongul-a. It may take a few days because if what you described is any indication, he’s going to be extremely antisocial unless forced to do otherwise. But I will find the answer, and I can guarantee it’s not what you think.”
“How can you be so sure?” Jin-woo demanded.
“Because of the four of us, Cheongul-a has had the most exposure to Shifters,” Ki-tae said. “He goes out of his way to help them, especially the lone ones.”
“Why?” Jong-in asked.
“That’s his story to tell, if he chooses to do so,” Ki-tae said quietly.
While Ki-tae wanted to rush out in search of Cheongul, he couldn’t. Commitments had been made that he had to fulfill. When he reached their father’s house that night, Cheongul’s car was not there. Where could he be? Usually Cheongul would head to Soon-joon’s house, especially if he was ups
et and spiraling. It was a haven for all of them, and Ki-tae was pretty sure his brother needed that sense of safety. Was it possible he’d gone back to his apartment in Seoul? Ki-tae didn’t think so, but it was worth a shot. He’d been trying to call Cheongul off and on since he left the set, but his calls went straight to voicemail each time. All his text messages went unanswered. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
“Hey, HanYin,” Ki-tae said as soon as HanYin picked up. “Have you talked to Cheongul?”
“Not since lunch, why?” HanYin said.
“Something happened between him and Min-su-ya, and now I can’t get ahold of him. He’s not answering his phone or texts,” Ki-tae said. “He’s not at Abeoji’s house either.”
“I’m still in Seoul,” HanYin said. “I’ll stop by his apartment and see if he’s there.”
“Thanks, HanYin.”
“Are you going to call Abeoji?”
“Not yet,” Ki-tae said. “I don’t want to if we don’t have to. He had to leave town today. If we tell him, he’ll do nothing but worry.”
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later.”
Ki-tae ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket. He hoped they found Cheongul soon. It wasn’t good for him to be alone when he was in a dark state of mind. Something had made Cheongul walk away from Min-su. What that something was, Ki-tae didn’t know, and the only place he was going to get answers was from Cheongul.
Cheongul
KI-TAE AND HanYin looked up as they heard footsteps in the garden. Thirty seconds later there was a small dogpile outside the dining room with Cheongul on the bottom. Finally they let him up and knelt next to him. Then HanYin punched him in the arm, and Ki-tae smacked him upside the head.
“Ow!”
“Don’t you ever scare us like that again,” Ki-tae growled. “If you need time to yourself, at least answer the fucking phone and say so!”
“No dim sum for a month!” HanYin said with an adorable pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes flickered back and forth between their normal warm brown and silver in his agitation.
“Aw, come on, HanYin!” Cheongul complained. “A month? It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was two fucking days, Cheongul,” Ki-tae said. “I was this close to telling Abeoji we couldn’t find you.”
“Did you?” Cheongul looked down at the ground.
“No, but it was close. He’s due back either tonight or early tomorrow morning, but you know how he is. He’ll take one look at you and know something’s up,” Ki-tae said softly. Then he pulled Cheongul into a hug. “We need to talk about it, though. Min-su dongsaeng thinks you took off because she’s a Shifter. Jin-woo-ya was pissed when he found out.”
“It wasn’t that,” Cheongul said.
“Then what was it?”
“She’s….” He glanced at HanYin. “Involved with someone else and… I saw her and… Jong-in kissing….”
“You don’t poach,” HanYin finished. God, he couldn’t stand that look on HanYin’s face, as if his whole world was crumbling. “Jong-in? Then why did you kiss her?”
At Cheongul’s surprised look, Ki-tae explained, “I told him when we couldn’t find you.”
“I didn’t kiss her, per se,” Cheongul said. “She kissed me and I… I didn’t resist, and the, well, it really was a mutual thing. I’d been wanting to kiss her for so long. It was…. I couldn’t turn away.”
“Then what stopped you?”
“How do you know she’s with Jong-in?” HanYin asked.
“I saw them together. They looked very happy. She was hugging him so tightly, and he was returning it with equal strength and then they started kissing, and that’s when I left.”
“That was a dumb thing to do and you really need to not assume things. Are you sure they’re together? Because she was really upset when I talked to her and it was Jin-woo doing the comforting while Jong-in-a was sort of a silent support. That doesn’t strike me as couple behavior.”
“We understand, Cheongul,” HanYin said after shooting a “shut up” look at Ki-tae. Sometimes, HanYin’s face was so easy to read. “Honestly the three of us are seriously screwed up in the head. We try very hard to put it behind us, to let it go, but Fate seems to have a vicious sense of humor and keeps throwing these situations in our path.”
“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Do not resist them. That only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. Laozi, a wise man. You could learn much from his teachings, young ones.”
The voice was whisper soft and echoed the sound of the ages. They were on their feet in a heartbeat, Cheongul in front with Ki-tae and HanYin immediately behind him. All three bared their fangs and growled. The woman standing before them merely raised one delicately arched eyebrow. She wore a thin blue tunic with sleeves ending in large bells over what appeared to be a T-shirt and jeans. A narrow red belt with golden Chinese dragons twisting along the length wrapped around her waist. On her feet she wore a pair of red Converse high-top sneakers. Her ebony hair was swept up in the front and on the sides into a small topknot. The rest fell to her knees. She had a small three-petaled flower on her forehead above the bridge of her nose. Her lips were a bloodred and echoed in the faint red eyeshadow around her eyes. Her long, sooty eyelashes were emphasized by the extended sweep of eyeliner. She folded her hands into her sleeves and smiled gently.
“Do I pass inspection?” she asked, her voice still quiet, almost musical.
“Who are you?” Cheongul said, his voice low.
“She is Godaeui-nim, my teacher and friend,” Soon-joon said as he came up behind them. He laid a gentle hand on HanYin’s shoulder.
“And more. It is good to see you, again, Táozi-chan,” she said with a smile. “You have been distant far too long.”
“Táozi?” Ki-tae snickered and winced when Soon-joon’s hand connected with the back of his head. “What? It’s cute.”
“I do not do ‘cute,’” Soon-joon said. “And she is the only being on this planet allowed to call me that.”
“It is what your mother named you, Táozi-chan. She was a good woman. Do not dishonor it,” Godaeui said. “Shall we adjourn inside, or should we have our discussion out here? I can see the situation is most… complicated.”
Soon-joon stepped to one side and ushered Godaeui inside. Ki-tae followed Cheongul’s lead and bowed. He noticed how HanYin stepped away from her as she walked past him, but also bowed. Ki-tae walked over to him and looped his arm around HanYin’s shoulders.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” HanYin said quietly, his usual good humor not present. “I…. She is… old, very old, and that… that scares me, Ki-tae.”
“I know,” Ki-tae said, giving him a hug. “But Abeoji would never invite someone into our home who was a threat to us. He must be very trusting of this woman.”
“I am… not good with people of such… power and age,” HanYin said.
Ki-tae couldn’t say anything further to that. He knew his brother’s story, knew this was going to be hard for HanYin, knew his brother didn’t like to feel weak and helpless. There was nothing he could do except be there for him. It wasn’t as if he could tell Godaeui to leave. That would be dangerous, not to mention incredibly rude, and that would make Soon-joon mad. The only thing he could do would be to keep in constant contact with HanYin, and that’s exactly what he did.
When they entered the tearoom, Godaeui and Soon-joon were already seated, Soon-joon at the end and Godaeui sat facing him. When Ki-tae took his seat, he made sure HanYin was between him and Soon-joon. Cheongul took the seat to Soon-joon’s left, folding himself onto the mat with practiced ease. For a few moments, no one said a word. Godaeui looked at each of them in turn, pausing on HanYin.
“I have no wish to harm you, young one,” she said quietly. “Be at ease. You are as a beloved grandchild, for not o
nly am I Táozi’s mentor, I am his sire as well.”
“Wŏ hĕn bàoqiàn, Géxiá,” HanYin practically whispered, bowing low. Ki-tae rubbed the small of his back, hoping to soothe his nerves. The Mandarin was a clear sign HanYin was highly agitated. His normal pattern of speech often combined Korean and Mandarin, even English on occasion, but full-on Mandarin was reserved for times when he felt threatened, unsafe, and in danger.
“It seems I have delayed this visit for far too long, that your sons feel threatened by me,” she said quietly. “It was not my intention.”
“We understand, Godaeui-nim,” Cheongul said.
“Wŏ de sūnzi, Nĭ bú xūyăo baochí,” Godaeui said, speaking solely in Mandarin and addressing HanYin directly. “Qù nǎlǐ nǐ huì juédé ānquán hé shūshì.”
“Wŏ bù likāi wŏ de jiārén, Géxiá,” HanYin responded quickly. Godaeui smiled at him and nodded. Her expression showed she was proud of HanYin, who chose to remain with his family when offered the option to leave, even though he was afraid.
“Ki-tae dongsaeng, tell me of this young man, Cheong Jin-woo dongsaeng. How did you meet him?” she said as Ki-tae poured tea for all of them. As the youngest, it was his duty, and he was cool with it. It was relaxing at times to have a set definition of his role. Soon-joon had taught them all the traditional tea rituals and ceremonies for China and Japan, as well as Korea, and so he knew exactly what to do.
“I met him backstage at our last concert tour performance in the Seoul Olympic Dome,” Ki-tae said. “I was feeding.”
“And why were you feeding in such a location?” There was no censure in her words, just curiosity.
“I….” Ki-tae sighed. He hadn’t wanted to share this information with anyone. They would only worry. “I was… hit in the parking lot on my way in. It was bad, but not enough to keep me from performing. By the end of the first half, however, I was hurting, and wouldn’t have been able to do the second half without some quick healing.”
Night Kiss Page 17