Between Floors by W. R. Gingell

Author:W. R. Gingell [Gingell, W. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-30T16:00:00+00:00

“Awake or not?” said a voice in Korean.

Something poked me in the cheek—JinYeong’s finger, probably. For a very brief moment, I thought about biting that pretty little finger and seeing if I could draw someone else’s blood, but that reminded me just in time that with JinYeong’s saliva still somewhere in my system, it would be very dangerous for me to draw his blood.

“I believe so,” said Zero’s voice. “Make coffee.”

At first I thought he was talking to me, and tried to make my sluggish limbs move, but JinYeong’s voice said, “Ne, hyeong,” with some sullenness, and his presence retreated.

I opened my eyes, since my limbs were too difficult to manage, and a big, white hand levered me up into a sitting position.

“Ow,” I said, my voice as rough as though I really had just been stabbed in the neck. It didn’t hurt, but there was a pain somewhere that seemed to be assuaged by saying it, so I said it again.

“It will fade,” Zero said.

“That’s good,” I said, because there didn’t seem to be anything else to say. “You blokes just get home?”

“We’ve been back for an hour or so.”

“Find anything?”

“A few friends of the Family who might have known if something was going to happen.”

“They know of anything?”

There was silence, and the jug boiled away in the kitchen. “No,” said Zero at last. “Nothing to do with the Family, at any rate. They knew Athelas was likely to be with me, but nothing more.”

Funny that he was answering my questions. Nice, for a change. I asked him, “That what they said, or what you think?”

“It’s what they said. At this moment, I have no reason to doubt them.”

There was a soft noise of contempt from JinYeong as he stepped down into the room with two mugs of coffee. I didn’t know whether he was being contemptuous about the Behindkind’s information, or about Zero’s trust in it, so I just stared at him.

Why was he so flamin’ pretty, anyway?

JinYeong narrowed his eyes at me and gave Zero a cup of coffee. “Wae?” he demanded.

“You’re too flamin’ pretty,” I said. My voice sounded choked. “Don’t know why someone doesn’t punch you in the face.”

JinYeong, looking offended, thrust the second cup of coffee at me. A small slop of it hit my hand, burning where a splash of my blood had burned earlier, and I sniffled very hard to stop even hotter tears from spilling over as well.

“Ah, wae irae?” muttered JinYeong, hunching back into his side of the couch.

Something hit me softly in the side of the face, and a blood red, silken handkerchief fell into my lap. I dabbed at my hand and pushed it back at JinYeong, who took it by one corner as if it were soiled beyond recovery.

“You dreamed of Athelas again,” said Zero.

Even more than last time, I didn’t want to talk about it. I said baldly, “Yes.”

“Did he kill you again?”

“Yeah. He still thinks I’m someone else with my face. Reckon he’s in the police station.

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