Page 12 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

Joon grunted, staggering back a few steps.

“Shit, sorry.” Cally lowered her foot. “I kinda expected you to block that.”

He waved her off with one hand, the other pressed to his ribs as he struggled to find his breath. “My fault for suggesting we spar without pads,” he said between pained gasps. Then added pointedly, “And for thinking you had more control.”

“Sorry,” Cally mumbled again. He was right; her control had been shocking this week—and last week too, for that matter.

Too many things on her mind, too distracted.

She hadn’t pulled her blow as much as she should, and she was totally in the wrong.

“I shouldn’t be taking my issues out on you. I’m really sorry.”

Joon nodded, accepting her apology. “Let’s call it a day on the sparring and grab a coffee. You and me are having a chat.” He straightened stiffly, still favoring his side.

She performed kyungye , feeling like an errant schoolgirl summoned to the principal’s office. “Yes, Sabomnin .”

Joon had rudimentary coffee-making facilities tucked into a corner: a battered kettle perched on an aged-brown countertop, mugs of dubious cleanliness stacked haphazardly beside it.

Moving stiffly, he set about making the drinks while Cally stripped off her hand guards and took a seat at the lone small table, its surface scuffed from years of use.

Two ancient Taekwondo magazines propped up one of its legs, keeping it from wobbling.

She watched him, the room’s familiar sparseness grounding her in the present, even as her thoughts churned.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeated, softer now, as she shifted in her seat. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a mess.

“Forget it,” he said, setting a steaming mug in front of her before swinging a chair around and straddling it.

“It’s not like I can’t take a hit. But you hit a lot harder than I expected.

My own fault for going soft on you, because you’re two dans lower and, well—” He hesitated, looking somewhat sheepish.

“—A girl?” she finished wryly, fiddling with the cup.

“My turn to say ‘sorry.’ Still, like I said, it’s my own fault.

You’re faster than I sometimes give you credit for, and once in a while you pull some unpredictable move.

” He gave a mock-wince. “I’m half in pain and half your smug coach.

” He levelled a serious look at her. “Sometimes I genuinely can’t believe how hard you hit.

And I swear you’ve gotten stronger these past couple of weeks. ”

Cally frowned. “Funny you should say that. I have been feeling more energized.” She raised her mug. “Did you change your coffee brand?”

“You’d know. You drink enough of it,” Joon said. “But let’s dig into that a bit more, Cally. Exactly why have you been here”—he stopped to think—“eight times in the last two weeks?”

She glanced down at her coffee. “Uh, finished a project at work. Nothing much to do.”

“Yeah? Bullshit. Try again.”

She’d known he wouldn’t buy it. “Because I’m scared, okay?

” She looked up, rolling her eyes at herself.

“I’m fucking terrified. Every night I wake up drenched in sweat.

Every night I have the same nightmare. Helplessness, death, monsters.

Stuff children dream of, for God’s sake!

” And apparently, I’m a witch. Maybe. And that emanating presence. Do I even know what’s real anymore?

“Huh.” He took a sip of his coffee, unbothered by her outburst. “This new? You’ve never seemed scared to me, and I’ve never heard you mention this before.”

“Yeah, it’s new,” she said. “Something… happened , about two weeks ago. I still don’t really know what.”

He made a ‘go on’ gesture.

Cally hesitated, but she’d already said too much.

Besides, she trusted Joon. Maybe she wanted to tell him—the alley, anyway.

Not the spell. Not being… a witch. “I was walking home at night and, well, I kinda fainted, I guess. Except it wasn’t.

I felt fuzzy and lightheaded, and… and at the same time, I felt good.

Like I suppose it might feel to be high. ”

“You don’t do drugs, do you?” he asked mildly, more curious than judgmental.

“You know I don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. Just checking. Carry on.”

“So I made my way back home, still feeling weird. Like I was half out of it. Nauseous, too. I figured I’d been overdoing it, so I went to bed.

” She paused, taking a sip of her coffee, then pushed the mug away.

“I’ve had nightmares ever since. Every time I sleep.

Worse, the first week. Two, maybe three a night. ”

“What are they about?”

Cally squirmed in her chair, looking down at the table. “Oh, you know. Impressions of helplessness, dark places and dark figures, an overwhelming sense of dread.” And an overwhelming sense of arousal, which goes with me to my grave. “I kept thinking…” Shadows. So many shadows.

“Go on.”

Cally shifted, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her cup.

“I kept thinking I’d almost seen someone in that alleyway, but I don’t remember anyone being there.

I wouldn’t have entered if there were. There was a large man”—she waved a dismissive hand—“but he was way ahead of me and was gone. I thought maybe I’d seen someone else, but—” She scoffed.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m seeing things, too. ”

“Talked with anyone about it?”

“I’m talking with you,” she said quietly.

“I’m not a shrink.”

“But you’re a friend.”

“Yes, and as a friend, do you think you should maybe see a doctor?”

“I did,” Cally said. “He ran some tests. Said I was perfectly healthy.”

“A therapist then?”

Cally shook her head. “Maybe. But I’m not going crazy—or at least I don’t think I am. It’s just—”

“You don’t need to be crazy to see a therapist.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “Expensive, though. Long waiting lists.”

She sat in silence, staring at the table while Joon watched her, concern etched into his expression.

“I guess I figured it would pass, but it’s not,” she said, subdued.

“So you’re taking it out on me?” She glanced up sharply, but he was teasing. “It’s okay, I can be a punching bag. But I might throw the pads back on next time. Or, hey, perhaps you could use an actual punching bag?”

She managed a faint smile, more reflex than genuine. “Yeah, well, thanks for putting up with me while I’m working through my demons.”

“Any time. I can take it. Especially if it helps. Is it?”

Cally hesitated, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the mug. She thought about the hours spent sparring and training, the bruises she’d given and received, and the relentless nightmares that still plagued her.

“No. Not so far.” She exhaled sharply and toyed with the coffee mug. “I even tried some melatonin.” Didn’t work, Eve. “Still had nightmares but couldn’t wake up.” Not doing that again. “I mean Christ, Joon, I’m sleeping with the light on. I even applied for a gun permit.”

He huffed in disbelief. “You? A gun? I thought you hated them.”

“I don’t hate them, I just never saw the need. But what else am I supposed to do? I feel so—” Her voice caught, and she gestured vaguely, searching for words.

“Helpless and scared?”

“Yes.” Her jaw clenched. “And I hate it.”

Joon nodded as if her confession hadn’t surprised him in the slightest. “For what it’s worth, most scared people hide at home. They don’t come out fighting. They don’t train four times a week.”

She shifted awkwardly. “Well, some do.”

“Yeah, some do. You do.” He leaned forward, his tone firm but encouraging. “That’s my point. You’re a fighter, Cally. No matter what happens, you’ll figure it out. You’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, I guess,” She took a sip of coffee, though it tasted as bitter as her mood. “So why do I feel scared all the time?”

“Okay.” Joon leaned back, crossing his arms. “Let’s break it down. You’re pretty sure it all started that specific evening?”

“Yes.”

“Quite certain? Nothing else going on around the same time? Work? Boyfriend? Money worries? Your dad okay?”

Cally shook her head. “Nope, work’s fine, just slow. No boyfriend. I earn enough. My dad’s okay. He’s…” Lonely. “ He’s fine. ”

“All right,” he said. “So you were walking home, and somewhere along the way you started feeling dizzy and nauseous?”

“Well, kinda. The nausea didn’t hit until I was home.”

He looked awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. “And, uh, none of my business, but—”

“No, I’m not pregnant,” she said flatly.

“Right. Good. Scratch that one off, then.”

His tangible relief was almost funny. It was easy to forget Joon was a dozen years older than her—and her mentor, too. He was great to talk to about most things. Not her sex life, apparently, but that was okay because she didn’t have one.

“Anything else you remember?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

Cally frowned, reaching back through the fog of memory.

“Not really. Maybe a sense of losing time? Like I couldn’t remember something important.

I assumed it was because I felt dizzy.” She hesitated.

“Oh, and there was this weird mark on my neck. Did I have a cut on my neck when we trained? Do you remember?”

Joon shook his head. “Can’t say I do. What kind of cut? I’d have noticed if it was anything obvious.”

“It was, like, two little holes.” Cally touched her neck with two fingertips, slightly spaced apart. “About here.” She frowned. “Joon? You okay?”

He had frozen, his face slack with shock. When he finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. “Describe it.”

Her hand dropped to the table, but his eyes remained locked on her neck. “What? What is it?”

“ Describe it .” His tone sharpened, startling her. He’d never snapped at her before.

“Uh, like I said. Two small marks.”

“You said ‘holes.’”

“Well, yes, but they weren’t. They were healed—fresh skin, you know? Little pink circles. They’d faded in—”

“No.” He shook his head, leaning back in his chair, his face pale as ash. “No.”

Cally stared at him, her anxiety rising. Joon was always calm, always in control. Unflappable. “Joon, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Did I ever mention my sister?”

She blinked, thrown by the abrupt shift. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I had a little sister. She was… killed. Murdered. About fifteen years ago.”

“Oh my God, Joon.” Cally’s words were soft, her hand instinctively reaching across the table. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, brushing off her sympathy. “It’s something I came to terms with a long time ago. As much as anyone can. But Cally… what you said brought it all back.”

She blinked hard, as if that would make sense of what she’d just heard. “What? How?”

“So, what I’m about to say is gonna sound, well, insane.

” Joon stared down at the table, his fingers drumming a slow, uneven rhythm.

“Hana went missing. They found her body a day later.” He paused, as if collecting himself.

“I had to go and identify her. She was lying there in one of those body bags. The coroner unzipped it, and—” He exhaled sharply.

“I’ll never forget how she looked. Two holes in her neck.

” He gestured toward her, and then touched the side of his. “Here.”

Cally froze, her hand drifting to her neck. “That’s… that’s terrible. What did the coroner say?”

“Said she died from massive blood loss,” he replied bitterly.

“But when the report came out, it listed cause of death as unknown. The coroner refused to take my calls. They wouldn’t put me through to him.

Always ‘out’ when I swung by, until they told me to stop coming.

They covered it up, Cally. My family fought for years, but in the end?

We moved away. We had to.” He stared down at the table, lost in his memories.

“Which area? Boston?”

“No, Baltimore.”

“So, you think…” Her brow furrowed, his story casting a darker light on her own situation. A chill crept over her despite the warmth of the room. “What do you think, Joon?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shaking his head. “A coincidence? Some serial killer pretending to be a goddamn vampire? No connection at all?” He shrugged. “I have no clue.”

“I’m not dead, though.”

“No, you’re not. Thank God.” His eyes narrowed. “But dizziness? Nausea? Blood loss? Holes in your neck? Nightmares? What do you think, Cally?”

She hesitated. “Vampires are stories.”

“Sure. But people aren’t, and people like vampires.

Maybe some sick bastard drugged you, did God knows what to your neck.

” His jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist. “If that’s the case, and if I can find him, I’m going to be asking him some pointed questions about where he was two decades ago.

In between kicking the shit out of him.”

Cally shook her head, trying to process. The whole thing felt surreal, like a twisted campfire story. But Joon would never make up something like that. “I’m so sorry, Joon. I had no idea.”

“It’s been fifteen years. It’s not about me, or Hana. Not anymore.” He waved her off. “It’s you I’m worried about, Cally.”

“Well,” she said, forcing a wry smile, “if anyone tries anything, I’ll be ready for them now.”

“You’d better be. You know all those times I told you not to be impulsive?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Ignore it. For this, anyway. Someone tries to mess with you, you go at them as hard as you went at me today. And don’t stop until they can’t fucking move.”

“You can count on it.”

“Don’t forget, Cally, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight—”

“—But the size of the fight in the dog.” She rolled her eyes. “You tell me at least once a week.”