Page 33 of Wicked Fox

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you hesitated before you said the word ‘kill.’”

Her fingers curled around his neck before his brain registered the movement. She slammed him against the play set so hard it pushed all the air out of his lungs.

“You’re pushing me very close to my limit,” Miyoung growled.

“I don’t care.” The adrenaline rush of fear mixed with his anger, daring him to go further. Perhaps if he died, his mother would finally regret leaving him.

“I gave you fair warning.” Miyoung’s fist shot forward. Jihoon winced as he waited for the impact. Instead, he heard the echo of athudas her hand crashed into the plastic tubing by his head.

He looked at the long cracks running from the large dent two centimeters from his skull.

“Next time I won’t hold back.”

His legs threatened to buckle when she released him, so he held on to the edge of the slide for support.

“Okay then.” His voice was breathy.

“What did you see in the forest?”

“I didn’t see much.” He thought back. “Just the dokkaebi. Your tails. And...”

“And?” She leaned forward. This close, she was stunning, and he blinked at the sight of her, like a man staring into the sun.

“That bead.” He barely got the stuttered word out, suddenly feeling like his whole body was made of nerves. Despite himself, he’d searched his halmeoni’s old books until he’d found the tales of the gumiho. And one had detailed a fox bead, one that held all the knowledge of the universe.

She hummed deep in her throat. “What did you feel when you picked it up?”

He paused, searching for the trap in her question. When he couldn’t clearly see one, he replied, “It felt warm, like it was alive.”

“And nothing else?” she asked roughly, like she was already blaming him for something, but he didn’t know what.

“Nothing until the dream. It felt real, like it was you, not just a memory of you.”

“Gumiho can come to humans in their dreams. It’s not unheard of.” She flicked her wrist like a dismissal of his concern, as if visiting each other’s dreams was as simple as visiting the corner market.

“Are you going to do it again?”

Her eyes were dark as she replied, “No.”

He started to push, to demand better answers. But he kept quiet. His halmeoni had instilled enough superstition in him that he knew it wasn’t smart for a person to go looking for trouble among things he didn’t understand.

“Will you be okay?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. And Miyoung’s wide-eyed stare showed she hadn’t expected such a question. “Without your bead,” he continued, “will you be okay?”

A frown marred her smooth features. “I’ll be fine,” she said softly, but her voice trembled.

She didn’t look like she was fine. Her face looked drawn, her eyes shadowed. But instead he said, “I really will keep your secret. Let’s make a deal. I promise not to tell your secret if you promise not to rip out my liver. Call?” He held out his hand.

He expected the hesitation, but not the slight tremor in her hand when Miyoung finally took his.

As she closed her fingers around his, it stilled, as if it had never trembled in the first place. But he knew what he’d felt. She was afraid of him, too. Maybe as much as he was of her.

“You’re supposed to say ‘call,’” he said with a friendly grin. He felt a need to soothe her worries. “Or else the deal isn’t sealed.”

She shook her head and pulled her hand free, leaving a smear of blood across his palm.

“You’re bleeding.” Jihoon grabbed her hand again.

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