Beneath the Surface // Moonsun

Chapter 22

Byulyi POV

Wheein standing near the side of Old Joe's Seafood restaurant with the dark hood of her jacket tugged low over her face gives me the impression of a miniature Grim Reaper. Only her gentle nose and hard, rouge lips are visible beneath the shadows of the low hanging cloth.

"You're looking rawr xd today."

"Do not patronize me Byulyi."

I give her a crooked smile as I lean against the wall next to her. "Where's Hyejin?"

"Inside getting gumbo." Wheein scowls at that. "I told her that it's going to give her the shits while we're on this job and she better suck that shit back up her anus when it does."

I huff a laugh, but choose not to comment on that. "Feels weird being back at Morgan Harbor this soon. It's like we're tempting fate."

The docks across the street are tinted monochrome through the lenses of my shades and I watch the little ant men scurrying to finish their Wednesday night duties. How many of them know what's in some of those boxes they're transporting and would they even care?

"We tempt fate by merely existing in Lin's world," Wheein comments. A tiny smile graces her lips. "I like bad odds. They're interesting."

"Is that why you wanted Yongsun in the Inner Circle?" I ask only half-joking.

She lifts her head so I can see the unamused glance she slides in my direction. "You don't think she's capable?"

"We just have a funny way of testing it, that's all." I wave it off. "Never mind. It was just a joke."

"But it wasn't."

"Okay. It wasn't."

"She's fine, Byulyi."

Of course she's right, but it doesn't slow down the thoughts that've been constantly racing through my mind since I watched her leave the bar with Adrian Jiang and drive off into the night. Wheein had claimed that it wouldn't be safe to follow them and I couldn't rationally disagree with that even as doubt wormed its way into me.

"I thought she'd be good for us." She sighs through her nose as if the admittance physically pains her. "Yongsun has her own set of twisted morals that we've been lacking. Who else would volunteer for something like infiltrating Lin's Clan?"

"I don't know if I'd put that more on her morals or her own self-loathing."

"Don't undersell her Byulyi." Wheein says sharply.

The intrudence of a groaning screen door interrupts my response, whatever it was I was going to say, and I peer over my shoulder at Hyejin who's shouldering the door open while slurping from a steaming styrofoam bowl. Her long sleeves are rolled up and displaying the scrawling sentence tattooed along her brown forearm. I've always meant to ask what it means, but there's never been a good time. That's one thing I never seem to have much of lately.

"Sorry, sorry," she seems sheepish as she walks up to us, cowering under the glare of the tiny Grim Reaper. "I was really hungry."

"If I get even a whiff of hot gas out of you..."

"Yep, Wheein. I got it."

They stare at each other for a moment, Wheein's expression unreadable, Hyejin merely appearing discomforted. I can't quite tell what I'm looking at. Sexual tension would be a bit of a stretch, but I have no other name for the weird energy radiating between them.

"Right, so, the point of us being here." I step forward to reclaim their attention, "We need Hamlet."

He and Morgan Harbor are the only useful connections to Lin that we have left until Yongsun comes through on her end. It feels more and more like we're scraping the bottom of the bucket while Lin sits at the King's table.