Page 56 of Vicious Spirits

She placed a copy ofPersuasionback on the shelf and tried to pull out the next book, but it wouldn’t budge. She yanked again, gritting her teeth with the effort. With a click it jutted out of the shelf but didn’t come completely free; instead the bookshelf swung out on a hinge like a door.

Somin almost laughed. Of course he would have a hidden room in this place. Probably where he kept his vault so he could sit in piles of his money. But when she pulled the hidden door open, she was shocked at what she saw.

Instead of the sleek steel safe she’d expected to find, she found a room filled with paintings and sculptures. Delicate ceramics sat on tables that lined the walls. Canvases were stacked on top of one another. The middle of the room had paint splatters marring the floor. Something that shocked Somin, as she knew what a stickler Junu was for cleanliness in his space. But here there was chaos. There was color. There was beauty. She was amazed at the gorgeous paintings. Why would Junu keep them in here and not display them proudly? They were obviously his own work.

How could a person who loved to brag about all of his accolades hide such obvious talent?

Somin stepped to a ceramic jar. It was smooth and delicate, decorated with birds and flowers painted in blue. Another had a leering tiger. And yet another had a fox. Perhaps inspired by Junu’s new housemate.

She turned to the finished paintings leaning against the wall in a small stack. They looked like they were painted in styles fromacross the centuries. Some were sweeping watercolors. Some were bold acrylics and oils. She found one that looked as abstract as a Picasso, though it was the only one of its kind. Perhaps a phase where Junu had wanted to experiment?

Another pile had a tarp thrown over it. And when she moved it, dust flew into the air like it hadn’t been disturbed in years.

These were done in the muted golds, reds, and earth tones of ancient Korean paintings Somin had seen in museums. Each of them was a portrait of a single person. Three different girls of varying ages. A man who could be anywhere from his late teens to his late twenties (it was always hard for Somin to tell with these older paintings). A woman old enough to be Somin’s mother. There was something in her eyes that Junu had captured. A spark as if her soul were truly living inside this painting. As if she felt love for the person who painted her. And then she found a final painting, if you could call it that. It was mostly a splotch of colors—blacks and reds and browns—streaked over it like someone had thrown whole jars of paint over the canvas. But there, in the middle, peeked out an eye, brown and bold, staring so sharply that Somin felt it would come alive. She felt sweat bead at the base of her neck, a strange feeling like she was being watched. There had clearly been a portrait of someone on this canvas once, and Junu chose to cover it up, but not throw it out...

Suddenly, Somin felt like she was invading something private. There was something about these paintings that felt very personal. Like something she didn’t have a right to see without permission. So she stepped back out and, with one final look inside, closed the door.

26

THE NEXT DAY,the trip back to Seoul was a sullen ride.

Junu had ushered them off the mountain as quickly as he could with Jihoon’s slow, stumbling pace. He didn’t want to stay there any longer than he had to. Every extra minute spent there meant more time for the god of the mountain to find out he’d come back and punish him for it.

But the long hike and the disappointment of the day soon caught up with both Jihoon and Junu. After dinner, Junu was faced with a dilemma. Try to drive through the night or find a place to sleep. Jihoon didn’t have a license, and Junu would never have let him drive the Porsche anyway. So, as the sun set, he decided they better get a room at a small inn at the edge of the town close to the mountain. Junu had lain awake most of the night listening to Jihoon toss and turn.

Now they drove with the sun rising behind them, carrying the weight of failure with them. If his bangmangi wasn’t in that cave, Junu had no clue where to start searching for it. Who had the power to take the staff? Another dokkaebi?

They were stuck in standstill traffic, strange for this highway, and it made Junu anxious. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he craned his neck to see if he could spot the source of the traffic jam.

Jihoon’s phone buzzed, and he silenced it. But when it buzzedagain, Junu got a quick glance of Somin’s name before Jihoon hit the ignore button.

“If you don’t answer, it will just make her angrier.”

“I think I know how to handle my best friend, thanks,” Jihoon said irritably.

“Fine,” Junu said with a shrug. But Somin’s voice echoed in his memory,I need you to promise you’ll take care of him. I need you to promise it in a way that will make me believe you.

“She worries about you a lot,” Junu said conversationally.

“Who?” Jihoon asked, still busy on his phone.

“Somin. She worries so much about you that she ignores her own needs to make you happy.”

Jihoon looked up at that, his expression twisted in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. Somin can take care of herself.”

“Of course she can,” Junu agreed. “That’s why the perfect person to hurt her is herself. And she is constantly ignoring what she wants to make sure you get what you want.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jihoon glared back down at his phone. “Somin and I want the same things. Why would she have to give up anything for me?”

“Really? She wanted you to come with me on this trip?” Junu asked.

Jihoon’s expression became pinched.

“She was really worried yesterday, but she knew that this is what you wanted. So she let you come with me even though it upset her.”

“How could you know what Somin was like yesterday? When did you see her?”

Dammit. Centuries of a pristine record of keeping his promises, and he slipped up this one time because he’d let himselfbecome too involved. This is why you don’t mix business with personal. Or have nothing that’s personal at all, much cleaner that way.

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