Chapter Fifteen #2
“I was a little busy,” Yejun said, pouting. “I had to hide out for a while just to be safe. Aren’t you glad I’m safe? Can we go back to that part?”
I rolled my eyes as the truck in front of the window pulled away.
The sun had started to set in the time we’d been here, and the lanterns in front of the restaurant across the street had lit up, illuminating little red cats in front of the ramen restaurant I’d gone to on my date with Jihoon.
Despite everything, the ramen had actually been amazing. Maybe I could convince Yejun to go there next. My gaze dropped to the couple in the booth by the window and their bowls of ramen with broth as thick and creamy as gravy. They looked a bit like …
I dropped my fork.
“Everything okay?” Yejun said, raising an eyebrow. Luckily, Yejun was facing away from the window, so I managed to smooth out my expression before he could turn around.
Across the street from us, Jihoon and I were on our date.
This was the night I’d finished my final assignment, when Hong Gildong had given me the small task of single-handedly destroying the Korean Peninsula.
If I had never kissed Jihoon—or at least waited until after the political rally—would Hong Gildong have given me a different assignment? Something less terrible?
“I have to go to the bathroom!” I said too loudly, jumping up.
Yejun looked surprised but nodded warily. “Have fun,” he said with a half smile.
I walked around him and headed for the bathroom before hurrying out the front door, across the street, into the ramen restaurant.
I could have told Yejun what I was doing—after all, he’d heard me and Jihoon set up the date, so it wasn’t exactly a secret.
But for some reason, I didn’t want Yejun to see.
Maybe it was that I didn’t want him to make fun of me, or that I felt bad treating Jihoon like a spectacle, or because having a witness to my lies made me feel even crueler than I already felt.
But part of me knew the real reason.
I’d gone out with Jihoon mostly for my infiltration mission, but also to get back at Yejun for walking with the other girl, to show him he didn’t own me, to hurt him.
I didn’t want to hurt him—or anyone—anymore.
As I crossed the restaurant, I considered a dozen ways I could ruin the date.
I could pretend to be the real Mina and insult Jihoon, but he was too damn nice and didn’t deserve it.
I could drag the other Mina out when Jihoon went to the bathroom so it looked like she’d ditched him.
I could even set the whole place on fire, which would definitely ruin the mood.
I flipped up my hood so Jihoon wouldn’t see my face, but slowed down to a stop as I realized what was happening.
An Echo in a sweatshirt had poured ramen into my purse on my date with Jihoon. Now, here I was, in the same sweatshirt, contemplating ways to ruin the date.
Pouring ramen into my own bag hadn’t worked—I had no idea why I’d tried that in the first place and sacrificed my phone in the process—but maybe I could make one small adjustment that would change everything.
I reached the table, locking eyes with the other Mina, and picked up her bowl of ramen.
In my mind, I could already see the scene playing out—ramen broth dumped over Mina’s head, her hair ruined, makeup dripping down her face, her shirt see-through, noodles in her bra.
If that didn’t ruin the mood and make sure no kiss happened tonight, nothing would.
But then a sharp pain flared behind my eyes.
My timesickness headaches truly had spectacular timing. I lost my grip on the bowl, and instead of landing over Mina’s head, it overturned into her purse.
“Are you serious?” the other Mina said, jumping to her feet.
I pushed past her and hurried out of the restaurant, wincing at the glare of streetlights.
I glanced back at the restaurant, but I knew my chance had been lost. I didn’t want to go back and risk Jihoon seeing my face.
The only thing worse than kissing him in the first place would be exposing him to magic and having to drag him into headquarters for a brain scrub.
I had already made the mistake of kissing him, and apparently I would have to live with it.
I slipped back into the café, where Yejun was waiting for me.
“Okay,” Yejun said. “Now are you ready to tell me what’s actually going on?”
Yejun waited patiently while I stared at my empty plate and recounted my new assignment from Hong Gildong. With every word, Yejun’s expression grew more and more grave.
By the time I finished talking, he looked like he wanted to murder someone. Hopefully not me.
“You can’t do it,” he said.
“I don’t intend to,” I said uneasily, his stern expression making me feel unbalanced—he was normally so bright and relaxed. “But I need to figure out what to do instead. Ideally something that won’t result in me being wiped off the timeline.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Yejun said, the sharp edge in his words catching me off guard.
“I mean, it might,” I said. “I don’t see a lot of options from here.”
Yejun shook his head, jaw clenched, tendons taut in his neck. Abruptly, he stood up, grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, and headed for the door. “Come on,” he said.
“Where are you going?” I said, untangling my bag from the chair legs before hurrying after him.
“I need a scrying pool,” Yejun said over his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out, Mina, I just need a little more time. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?” I said. “I feel like this is the exact right time to be worried!”
“I’ll figure it out,” Yejun said again. “I’ll fix it.”
“What, by yourself?” I said. “Slow down!”
But Yejun only took off faster and ducked into an alleyway, then squatted in front of a puddle and rolled up his sleeves.
“Don’t scry in mysterious liquids you found on the ground!” I said. “Let’s just go back. We can deal with this in the present, with a liquid that won’t give you cholera.”
“Mina, there’s no time!” Yejun said, clenching his fists. “If Hong Gildong…” He shook his head, looking away as his shoulders drooped in defeat.
I knelt on the other side of the puddle. “Yejun?” I said, reaching for his face.
He caught my hand and held it close to his heart. “No one is going to hurt you,” he whispered. His words felt warm, the undercurrent of fire beneath them, a latent tone that some dragon descendants could tap into.
“That’s sweet,” I said. “But I fear that you might lose to an ancient dragon like Hong Gildong in a cage fight.”
I’d meant it as a joke, but Yejun looked up sharply, his eyes flaring gold.
In a flash, Yejun had trapped me against the wall, his hands on either side of my head.
This close, I could feel the heat radiating off him.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his golden irises, his pupils narrowed to thin black stripes, the sign of a dragon provoked.
I had never had that kind of anger directed at me before, and I couldn’t help the way my knees shook, the brick wall digging into my spine.
“Are you sure about that?” he said, the words low and dark, the vibration rattling through my bones.
My heartbeat raced in my ears, and I knew what I was supposed to say next, what I could have said to stop this right here and now.
I could have shoved him away and he would have yielded … but I didn’t want to.
Instead, I turned my head slightly to the side, baring my throat.
“Prove it,” I whispered.
Because I knew, even with the tiny amount of dragon blood in my veins, that dragons didn’t back down from challenges.
Yejun blinked quickly, like he couldn’t believe my words. Then his eyes flared brighter and he raised a hand to the side of my face, holding my cheek. I could feel the threat of his claws against my cheek, but he held me with exquisite care, not drawing even a single drop of blood.
For the briefest moment, like a comet flashing past overhead, I imagined a life with Yejun.
Days spent holding his hand, feeling our magic braided together, its warmth always with me.
Nights spent on quiet journeys around Seoul, even something as simple as going to a sushi restaurant an adventure in and of itself because being with Yejun was exhilarating.
For all I knew, it could be true—it was forbidden to look at your own file, so I had no idea what the future held for me.
“Mina,” he whispered, and somehow I felt like he had said my name in every language all at once, like he had spoken to the whole of me, not the fragmented parts I offered to everyone else I met. His warm breath whispered across my face, one claw tracing a delicate line across my lip.
Then suddenly, Yejun drew back. He peered over my shoulder with a frown. I followed his gaze, and there we were—me and Jihoon—walking down the street.
Jihoon had his hand on my back, guiding me through the crowd. The other Mina looked at Jihoon and smiled before we disappeared around a corner.
I stayed perfectly still, wishing Yejun would say something, give me some clue as to what he was thinking. I have nothing to be sorry for, I told myself, even though it felt like a lie.
“The assassination,” Yejun said at last, his voice low. “You said it was your final exam?”
I finally dared to turn around. Was Yejun actually going to pretend he hadn’t just seen me and Jihoon on a date? Did he not care, or did he just understand that it was part of my job? He was still staring out the mouth of the alley, like he didn’t see me at all.
“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
Yejun took a step back, his expression blank. The space between us suddenly felt like a thousand miles.
“That means you crossed the point threshold,” he said, finally meeting my gaze. “What exactly was your mission with Jihoon?”
I tensed, feeling as if I’d fallen into a frozen lake. “I had to … get close to him,” I said, gaze fixed on my shoes.
“You’ve been close to him,” Yejun said. “What pushed you over the threshold? What did you do to him?”
Despite all my training that had molded me into an impeccable liar, improviser, and manipulator, I had no idea what to say next.
The key to getting what you wanted out of a social interaction was knowing what the other person wanted you to say, but that wouldn’t help me here. I know Yejun would hate the truth, but he would hate a lie even more.
“I just let him kiss me,” I said quietly. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Yejun echoed, followed by a sharp laugh. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away from me. “Unbelievable,” he said under his breath.
My face burned, my hands clenching into fists. What right did Yejun have to be mad at me? Jihoon had never been a secret, unlike the girls Yejun went around with. “It was just an assignment,” I said. “Why do you care?”
He looked back at me, and this time his eyes were no longer gold but so dark they were almost black. Even though we weren’t touching, I could feel his magic like a frigid sea breeze from far away.
“I don’t,” he said.
The words fell like cold rain over me. We were no longer in a safe, warm world all by ourselves. I was alone.
He checked his watch and turned to the mouth of the alley. “Time’s almost up,” he said. “We should go back now.”
“Right,” I said quietly, offering him my hand. This time, as his magic flowed through me, I felt nothing at all.