Chapter 4: Oh-So-Special.
Sons of the CullOutcasts of the supernatural world include the endangered mermaids, hydras, and gorgons. Personally speaking, I have never been cast out from anything. Hanbin brings up the 1600s, but paranoid Puritans ed torches at door-slamming breezes. Humans are so superstitious we night terrors are growing paranoid.
Our myths mirror this fear of extinction. “What’s the last thing you ate?” Jinhwan extracts green glop crusting over Junhoe’s pointed teeth. Copper tools screech against rotting enamel. Junhoe’s forked tongue curls in on itself, retreating into silence.
“Answer the good genie’s question,” Hanbin presses with the charm of a siren. Niceties can’t be afforded by vampires peeking through dusty windows.
But Junhoe responds like a bewitched shipman — avoiding further measures of persuasion, “Tree pixies.”
Typical. “Back on the fairy folk diet.” I laugh through cracked panes: the treatment a law-abiding supernatural citizen receives for years of pristine morals. “Are we really so surprised; he’s clearly not gone meatless.”
Jinhwan moves his professional attention to the scar marring Junhoe’s pale complexion. Perched along cloaked shoulder blades, the genie’s reptilian companion hisses at the sight. “He’ll live,” he decides — counter to visible fact. “Apollo’s Rune purges impurities; in this case, unnatural substances.”
“This century’s goal: lay off the sweet stuff,” I freely advise.
Hanbin assumes there’s a price to pay, “Vampires are manmade; in this case, unnatural substances that need purging.”
“Huh.” Jinhwan nods. “I suppose you’re right.” Examining his patient again, he says, “He’s got three days.” Junhoe’s gag reflex agrees, catching a new wave of pungent bile. “No,” Jinhwan rejects Hanbin’s unspoken suggestion.
“Don’t quote the Pledge of Neutrality to me, Jinny,” Hanbin interrupts in turn — my prince doesn’t take rejection well. “Let’s skip the threats, the blackmail, the needless argument of morality’s blurred lines. What do you want?”
As far as exotic spectacles go, Jinny the Genie is a sight good for sore eyes. Mysterious mixtures pop. Scalpels dip into boiling pots. Donghyuk, the yellow-bellied rattlesnake, slithers between book ends. Hours of preparation end in a sticky salve applied to Junhoe’s affected area.
I sniff at the wafting air. “Minty! Mind if I bag some for the road?”
The bloodthirsty vampire outside the window is ignored again; Jinhwan turns to Hanbin. “Symptoms will subside in three hours. He’ll live to count to four. As for payment: one tooth.” Hanbin displays his even rows, but Jinhwan has a different price in mind. “Not yours—his.”
“Little ol’ Bobby?” How kind of them to include me in their business exchange. “Whatever makes my enamel so special?” I ask despite Hanbin’s apprehension; we both know what makes me an oh-so-special member of our species.
And it’s not my sparkling personality — surprising, isn’t it?
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