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Chapter 9

LUKE

Here’s the thing about being best friends with Kai Chen: it’s like adopting a slightly feral cat who’s somehow also weirdly good with difficult people. From the moment we met as freshmen, both of us drowning in Business Analytics 101, something just clicked. Maybe it was how he could charm angry professors with his earnest confusion, or how he’d fall asleep in the library with perfect color-coded notes that made no sense to anyone but him. Or maybe it was just that lost look he’d get sometimes, like he was carrying secrets too heavy for his small frame.

Whatever it was, I appointed myself his unofficial protector. Which, growing up with a Korean shaman eomma and ahalmoni(grandma) who regularly battled evil spirits, felt pretty manageable. I’d seen my eomma exorcise a ghost from our neighbor’s car. I’d watched my halmoni curse a schoolyard bully with three weeks of hiccups when she visited. Weird was our family business.

But Kai being quarter-wolf? That was a whole new level of what-the-actual-hell.

“The sun isn’t even awake yet,” I muttered, loading another box ofEomma’s “special gifts” into the trunk of our car. “Why are we?”

Eomma ignored me, too busy arranging her collection of protective charms around the car’s interior. The crystal hanging from the rearview mirror clinked against what looked suspiciously like a new set of temple bells. Because apparently, we needed a mobile shrine to rescue Kai from his three suspiciously perfect boyfriends.

“Evil spirits more active at dawn,” she reminded me, hanging another charm from the mirror. “Better to travel early. Besides,” she added, checking her perfectly applied makeup in the reflection, “long drive to Cedar Grove. Need early start.”

“You’re wearing your special-occasion hanbok,” I noted suspiciously. The elegant silk garment was her go-to outfit for important rituals and intimidating potential in-laws. “This isn’t a formal exorcism, Eomma. Kai just needs… I don’t know, whatever the supernatural equivalent of a wellness check is.”

“Always be prepared,” she said primly, adjusting her jade necklace. “Never know when need to impress spirits. Or future son-in-law’s family.”

“He’s not—” I stopped, remembering all the times I’d seen Eomma handle “unusual” situations. Like when she’d cleansed our college dorm room of bad energy—and possibly a vengeful spirit living in the mini fridge—or that time she’d blessed Kai’s laptop before a particularly brutal presentation. “Okay, but can we at least pretend this is a normal road trip? Without the whole mobile temple thing?”

She just smiled, the same smile she’d worn when sixteen-year-old me had tried to convince her that the ghostly woman in our bathroom mirror was probably just bad lighting.

“When has anything with Kai ever been normal?” she asked, which… fair point.

I thought about my best friend, who’d just casually dropped the “Oh by the way, I’m part werewolf and my three hot boyfriends are actually alpha wolves who’ve apparently claimed me as their mate” bomb during our last video call. The same Kai who once spent three hours reorganizing the entire campus bookstore’s romance section because a customer had complained about the alphabetical order.

“Yeah.” I sighed, watching Eomma add what looked like her entire collection of prayer beads to her purse. “I guess normal left the building a while ago.”

“Ya! Luke! The dried mugwort goes in the back seat, not the trunk!” She bustled past me with another armful of mysterious packages wrapped in traditional bojagi cloth. “And be careful with the rice cakes! They’re for protection!”

“Pretty sure rice cakes are for eating, Eomma.” But I moved them carefully anyway. Growing up in her shop had taught me that seemingly innocent items could pack a supernatural punch. Last week, a customer had grabbed what they thought was a decorative cookie. They’d hiccupped butterflies for three days.

Our normally spacious trunk was starting to look like we were moving continents rather than making a weekend trip. The car—Halmoni’s “you graduated college, don’t embarrass the family by driving American” gift—sat noticeably lower under the weight of Eomma’s “essential supplies.”

“We’re going to Cedar Grove, not staging a spiritual invasion,” I pointed out as she added yet another bag of what smelled like sage.

“Check the GPS again. Make sure we have the right route.”

“Eomma, I checked it six times last night. It’s a straight shot up I-5, then…” I trailed off, remembering Kai’s texts about his GPS having an existential crisis. At the time, I’d laughed. Now, watching Eomma arrange protective talismans, I was starting to wonder.

The predawn highway was eerily empty as we headed north, our headlights cutting through fog that seemed too thick. Eomma kept muttering under her breath, her fingers tapping against the steering wheel in patterns I recognized from her shop’s protection rituals.

“Okay, take exit twenty in two miles,” I said, frowning at the car’s built-in GPS screen. The signal kept flickering, which was weird considering we were on a major highway. “Then it should be… huh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…” I squinted at the screen. “The route keeps changing. Like it can’t decide which way is faster.”

Eomma’s muttering increased. The temple bells chimed despite the complete lack of wind inside the car.

“Let me try my phone instead.” I pulled up Google Maps on my phone mounted on the dashboard, then Waze, then Apple Maps. All three apps showed completely different routes. “You know what? I take back every joke I made about Kai getting lost. This is weird. Like, your-shop’s-back-room-after-hours weird.”

“They’re protecting their territory,” Eomma said, her accent thickening as she pulled out a string of prayer beads with one hand. The fog pressed closer, making the car’s headlights seem dim. “Very strong magic. Old magic.”

“They who? And what do you mean mag—” I cut off as she started chanting, the prayer beads clacking in time with her words. The fog ahead… rippled? “Eomma, what are you?—”

The bells chimed louder. Something that definitely wasn’t wind whispered past the car. Eomma’s chanting reached a crescendo, and suddenly the fog just… parted. Like someone had drawn back curtains.