Chapter 62 Yiran
Yiran
The outside of the dive bar looked seedier than Yiran remembered. He rapped sharply on the door, following the same pattern
his father had used. The wooden floors inside creaked, and the door opened by a crack.
A pale hand snatched his collar.
“Whoa—” Yiran stumbled forward. “It’s me, Yuki.”
The Hybrid made a low, rumbling noise in his throat, but he pulled Yiran in. “Where have you been?”
“Hiding,” Yiran said. No one else seemed to be around. The trapdoor was open, sticking up from the floor. “Don’t worry, no
one followed me. Where’s my father?”
“Out.” Yuki’s gaze went to the open trapdoor and back.
“Any idea when he’ll return? I need to explain what happened. Is he pissed I disappeared?”
“He wasn’t happy when he realized you were gone, and he knows you went to the teahouse because Henry and his blabbermouth
told you about it. Some of the others are kind of mad, though.” From the way Yuki was speaking, Yiran surmised that no Hybrids
were in the cellar either. Something in his gut told him to check on the strange devices again.
“Why were the others mad?” he said, taking a casual step toward it.
Just as nonchalantly, Yuki shifted to block his way. “I call it the Celeste effect,” Yuki said. “Getting the Exorcist guinea
pigs your father wanted was a risk. We’ve had some casualties, and with the new lockdown, everyone’s scared they won’t be
able to feed properly and their withdrawal symptoms will surface, but your father refuses to let them have the Exorcists.”
The lockdown was having its intended consequences, just as Yiran had hoped. “You can’t attack the Guild without expecting any repercussions.”
“I know that.” Yuki said, his expression grim. “But did your father factor that in? When he found out about the spell the girl
cast on you and how you reacted to it, something changed. He’s grown impatient over the last few months. We’ve all noticed.
Maybe he showed his hand too soon. Maybe we aren’t ready to do something as big as this. Celeste and the others think he let
himself be overrun by his emotions—and you. He’s willing to risk our lives recklessly so that you can benefit from it.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s so that he can benefit from it,” Yiran retorted.
Yuki didn’t argue. “Did your magic return?”
Yiran nodded.
“So it’s true. . . . The forbidden technique does exist,” Yuki said, his eyes sweeping up and down Yiran, as if looking for
unusual signs. “The real question is, why are you back? You got what you wanted.”
“The Guild thinks I killed my grandfather. It’s not safe for me out there. Where else can I go?”
“Not here.”
“I didn’t kill my grandfather.” It felt important that Yuki know this.
“I know. He did.” Yuki’s voice cracked. “Why would you come back to him? Why would you choose this?”
Yuki was staring nakedly at him, and Yiran couldn’t look away. This was a conversation from the heart. This was the other Yuki talking. The boy who’d once had hopes and dreams, and a life ahead of him before a wretched fate struck. The one who
saved Yiran from Revenants, who knew his favorite flavor of tea. The one who waited in the rain for him with an umbrella and
a smile.
“I don’t know if I would’ve stopped my father if I’d known then that he’d planned to assassinate my grandfather,” Yiran said.
The question had gone round and round his head.
He couldn’t have killed the old man with his own hands, but at that time, without knowing what he knew now about his Amplifier abilities, would he have stood there in the teahouse and watched as someone else sought vengeance on his behalf?
Yiran didn’t think so, but he didn’t want to deny the slightest possibility of it going the other way.
Rui had said that his grandfather had probably wanted to protect him, and Yiran wanted so badly to believe it.
But even if he did believe it, there was a darkness inside him that would always be there.
Maybe it was because Yuki had acknowledged that darkness, or maybe Yiran was tired of lies and half-truths, and he wanted
some honesty in his life. Whatever it was, he realized he didn’t mind sharing all sides of himself with Yuki.
The storm in Yuki’s eyes had subsided. “You would have stopped your father. I’m sure of it.” He brushed a lock of hair out
of Yiran’s eyes, letting his hand trail down to the scar on Yiran’s cheek.
Yuki’s touch ignited something, and Yiran dropped all pretense and leaned into it.
“If I leave, will you come with me?” He shouldn’t have said that. He was jeopardizing his mission. But his heart had spoken.
Yuki’s face lit up for the briefest of moments. Then his hand retreated. “No.”
His reply was a punch to the chest. “Why not? I can tell you don’t want to be with them. You’re only doing it to survive.
You’re good at controlling your hunger, you can go weeks without feeding on spiritual energy, and you said you were getting
better at that. Maybe you’re evolving, maybe there’s something special about you that the Blight can’t take away. What if
it’s possible to reverse the transformation, to cure the infection?” Yiran could hear his own desperation; he hadn’t expected
to feel this devastated. “What if there’s another way?” he said, taking Yuki’s hand. “You won’t know if you stay with them.”
“Would you rather I be a lab rat for the Guild instead?”
“Isn’t that what my father’s going to do to you anyway?” Yiran shot back.
Yuki said nothing.
“That is what he’s doing, isn’t it?” Yiran pressed. “He’s obsessed with creating the perfect specimen. He’s tested the spell on normies, and now he’s kidnapped Exorcists to use it on them. He’s going to do it to you too. What I don’t understand is why you would let him.”
“This isn’t some fairy tale where you swoop in to save me. My place is here.” Yuki turned away. “With the other monsters.”
The silence fell like a heavy curtain at the end of a show when the players’ last words had been spoken and the final bow
taken. Somehow, Yiran knew there would be no encore. Yuki would not change his mind.
As much as it hurt, Yiran forced himself to focus on what was at stake: his city, his friends, his family. He walked to the
trapdoor. Yuki made no move to stop him this time.
The cellar had been cleared out.
Yiran’s brain rattled against his skull. The crumpled piece of paper. There were locations written on it. What if—
He strode to Yuki and pulled him around to face him. “What were those devices in the cellar, and why are they gone?”
“Celeste said the girl—your friend Rui—used some kind of pennies that were filled with yangqi at Outram. They acted like tiny
bombs that would go off when they touched a Hybrid. They were very effective, and Cel’s been obsessed with replicating them.
She and a few others created a version, but instead of yangqi, they filled it with yinqi. They made them bigger and more destructive.”
“They’re explosives that attack normies? Where are they now? What did my father plan to do with them?”
“I don’t know—”
Yiran cut him off. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” Yuki protested. “I got here just before you arrived. I don’t know what happened to the devices—no one told
me anything.”
“Look,” Yiran pleaded. “I don’t know where you stand in all this. I don’t know if you’re truly with them, but if you give
a damn about me, I need you to tell me two things.”
Conflicting emotions blurred on Yuki’s face, each battling for dominance. Finally, he nodded.
“Where’s the talisman?” Yiran said.
“He keeps it with him. Only takes it out when he wants to use it.”
“Can you bring me to him?”
“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee he’ll want to see you.” Yuki looked wary. “What are you planning to do?”
Yiran slammed the trapdoor shut. “I’m going to end this.”