Chapter 42 Yiran
Yiran
Yiran grabbed the tray off the counter and skulked to the back of the dingy fast-food restaurant where Yuki was seated. Electronic
dance music blasted from the speakers, making his head pound. The eatery was in one of the older neighborhoods. It hadn’t
been outfitted with the Guild’s new qi sensors yet, which made it safer for Yuki. But the real reason for their pit stop was
Yiran’s growling stomach.
Patrons were moving in and out of the place as usual, but cops were crawling everywhere outside, and the Exorcists were patrolling
the streets more frequently too. There was talk of a permanent daily curfew from sunset to sunrise. But more personnel was
needed to enforce it, and the bureaucratic red tape in the city government was hampering things and working to the Hybrids’
advantage.
“How can you eat that crap?” Yuki said, wrinkling his nose at the burger Yiran was unwrapping.
Yiran ignored him, wolfing down his food as he checked the news headlines on the television propped up against the wall. More
mutilated bodies had been left in the open, and the Exorcist Guild was being blamed for the lapse in safety. A clip from a
press conference flashed across the screen, and Ash Song’s exhausted face appeared. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he had
a fresh cut on his cheekbone.
Yiran looked away. He felt some guilt, but it was enclosed in a hard casing of anger that felt impenetrable. It would be responsible
to report everything he knew about the Hybrids and Song Liming, regardless of what his grandfather had done to him. Giving
up Yuki to the Exorcists would be the icing on the cake. But Yiran wanted to walk away from the world that had cast him out and betrayed
him. A world that had hurt him. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to watch that world burn.
The worst thing was that he couldn’t shake the feeling that Ash might’ve known all along that Yiran had been born capable of magic.
Had Ash felt threatened by his little brother?
He’d seemed pleased when Yiran had revealed he could do magic at Zizi’s shophouse.
Was it an act? Yiran didn’t want it to be.
But he wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in his family anymore.
“Think I got all of them,” Yuki said.
“All of what?” Yiran hadn’t been paying attention to what the Hybrid was doing.
Yuki pushed a small pile of fries laid out neatly on a napkin toward him. “You hate soggy fries, right? I picked out all the
crunchy ones for you.”
He said it so casually, as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do for someone. Yiran didn’t want this to be something
Yuki did for just anyone, but he was almost as mad that it might be something Yuki did just for him. He didn’t know why Yuki was the first one he’d called after he left Song Mansion. Or why he’d even memorized the Hybrid’s
number in the first place. Yuki might have betrayed him, but he’d also saved him. It was all too confusing.
“Stop weaseling your way into my heart,” he snapped. “I know you’re here with me because my father sent you.”
Yuki’s eyebrows rose. “Your heart?”
“Figure of speech. Don’t read into it.”
“Whatever you say.”
Begrudgingly, Yiran picked up a crunchy fry. It tasted better than the greasy burger, and he finished the lot quickly. He
was thinking of ordering a second meal when he noticed Yuki had gone pale. The Hybrid was fidgety too, tearing a napkin into
tiny pieces as though he was trying to distract himself. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Was the restaurant too crowded? Was there too much yangqi in the atmosphere tempting Yuki? Was he . . . hungry?
“When was the last time you ate?” Yiran said in a low voice.
“Ate? Oh, you mean . . . I haven’t in a while, but it’s okay. Like I said, I’ve been able to hold out for longer periods of time.” Averting his eyes, Yuki squished the napkin pieces into a ball. “And I don’t want to do it when you’re around.”
Yiran stared out the window at the busy street outside, his throat tight. The mere thought of Yuki’s sustenance was a concrete
reminder of the stark difference between Hybrid and boy. Their reflections against the glass distorted as the traffic lights
changed and cars zoomed by.
A boy turned into a monster by chance.
A monster in the guise of a boy.
Yiran wasn’t sure who was who.
“For what it’s worth, your father has nothing to do with this,” Yuki said, his voice carrying a trace of pleading. “Our meeting
on the highway wasn’t an accident, but I’m here with you now because I want to be.”
It sounded like a confession. Had he been grappling with this for a while?
Yuki cleared his throat, as if brushing off what he’d just said. “Anyway, what do you plan to do? Are you returning to the
family you’ve always known or the father who wants you back?”
“I hate my grandfather” was all Yiran said.
Yuki made a sympathetic sound. “And the second option?”
“I don’t know.” His father might be bad news, but at least he had offered answers.
A commotion was starting at the front of the restaurant.
Yuki craned his neck. “What’s going on?”
“Stay here.”
Yiran got up, taking cautious steps until he could see what was happening. Two Exorcists had entered. By a stroke of luck,
they were being distracted by a bunch of hooligans who were heckling them.
He hurried back. “Exorcists. We need to go.”
“There should be a back door through the kitchen,” Yuki said, looking sicklier than before.
The kitchen staff gave them sour looks, but no one tried to stop them as they dashed through, and they went out into the alleyway behind the restaurant. Yuki stopped and leaned against the concrete wall.
“We need to leave the neighborhood,” Yiran urged. “The Exorcists patrol in a loop, and—Yuki—”
He caught the other boy before he hit the ground.
The Hybrid’s chest was heaving. He looked disoriented, eyes glittering like silver coins.
He needs to feed, Yiran realized with a start.
Fear flashed across Yuki’s face when he sensed that Yiran knew. “Get away from me.” He gave Yiran a shove in the chest and
staggered toward the main street.
A bigger street meant more people. More people meant more yangqi. It was a recipe for disaster.
Swearing, Yiran ran after him. “Stay close to me,” he hissed, grabbing Yuki’s arm.
Yuki struggled. “Get away from—”
“Shut up and follow me.” Yiran tightened his hold on the other boy’s arm.
Looking conflicted, Yuki nodded, accepting that Yiran could guide him to safety. He kept his head down as they walked through
the milling crowd. His fingers interlocked with Yiran’s, gripping him so tightly that Yiran’s hand was turning numb.
Yiran remembered a small park a few blocks east. It was usually empty, and it was the quickest way to get Yuki away from the
normies. But getting there without incident was another matter. The shortest path was cutting through a huge intersection
with a scramble crossing. It was rotten timing: rush hour on a Friday evening. The pedestrian lights were red, and the after-work
crowd was building up at all four corners.
“We’ll take the diagonal crossing,” Yiran said, wincing as Yuki’s nails dug deeper into his flesh. He could feel the other
boy’s tremors. “Can you control it?”
Yuki gave a faint nod. He was leaning into Yiran like a drunk person, which ironically helped their situation. Assuming they were delinquents, the office workers were throwing the two teenagers dirty looks and avoiding them.
There was a beep. The pedestrian light turned green. The crowd surged from all four corners.
And Yuki began to shake.
His eyes bulged as he stared hungrily at the people around them. His breaths shortened, lips curling into a snarl.
He’s not going to make it. He’s going to attack them. Yiran picked the other boy up in his arms. He was surprisingly light, and Yiran held him tight and close. Adrenaline flowed
through Yiran’s veins as he ran across the intersection, ignoring the looks of surprise and irritation from the other pedestrians,
not caring if he was knocking some of them out of the way. He had to get Yuki out of the crowd. He had to save the normies.
He had to save the Hybrid.
Somehow, they made it to the other side. Yiran continued to run as fast as he could with the weight in his arms.
There was no one at the park. Some of the streetlamps weren’t working, and he found cover in a dim area. He laid Yuki down
on a bench, finally catching his breath.
But Yuki rolled over and fell to the ground. His eyes drifted to the side, glazed and unseeing.
Yiran knelt next to him. “Yuki?”
Recognition appeared briefly in Yuki’s gaze. “Yiran? Don’t c-come near me.”
“It’s okay, it’s all right.”
But it wasn’t.
Yuki inhaled sharply, his body going taut. He made a helpless, painful sound, and his tremors returned. His condition was
deteriorating quickly. Spasming in agony, he scratched at his face, guttural noises bursting from his throat.
It was horrifying to watch.
Yiran pried Yuki’s hands away from his own face, squeezing his wrists firmly.
Again, that brief recognition, a moment of sanity. “Go, please,” Yuki choked out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not leaving you, you idiot.”
But what could Yiran do? He hadn’t realized the Hybrids’ hunger could cause them such suffering. Yuki was clearly in immense
pain, and there was no doubt he could turn and overpower Yiran at any moment. Yet he was still trying to rein in his Hybrid
side. He was still worried about Yiran’s safety.
A scared, frantic thought crossed Yiran’s mind: If Yuki went any longer without feeding, would he die?
There was a visceral tug in Yiran’s chest. An emotion blossoming like a dandelion in the cracks.
Shit. I’m the idiot.
Cursing his weak heart, Yiran straddled the other boy, pressing a knee down on the snarling Hybrid’s torso. Yuki had drunk
from him once months ago. He’d done it from Yiran’s neck. But there were meridians running through a person’s body and specific
points where spiritual energy gathered.
Hoping it would work, Yiran pressed his wrist against Yuki’s lips. “Drink.”
Yuki’s pupils dilated. He was terrified. Tempted. He shook his head, his legs kicking out from under him.
“Damn you, Yuki,” Yiran cursed, using his weight to pin the Hybrid down.
Yuki’s breaths grew more rapid as Yiran kept his wrist on his lips.
“Listen,” Yiran whispered, with a tenderness he never thought he could possess. “Listen. You’re not allowed to die on me,
got it?”
Yuki stilled.
“You’re not allowed to die on me,” Yiran repeated.
He felt the other boy’s body relaxing like a sigh. Felt a cold sharpness at his own wrist. And closed his eyes as the cold
spread from his arm to his chest.