Chapter IX

Dewdrops at Dawn

"Y ou look like you've seen a ghost," Jeremiah said as the door to Min-jae's borrowed apartment sat open. The Korean dhampir was standing speechless in the doorway, dark hair down to the tops of his shoulders and wearing only loose bottoms. He looked rather comfortable for someone whose eyes spoke of shock.

Letting himself in as Min-jae stepped aside, Jeremiah left his shoes in the entry and strolled into the living room. The apartment was just about as bare as it'd been before. Other than a small pile of laundry folded on the sofa, as well as Mrs. Song still locked in her back bedroom, it seemed this place wasn't somewhere Min-jae planned to get too comfortable in.

With his back to the sofa, Jeremiah leaned lazily against it and arched a brow at Min-jae. "You're either stunned to see I'm alive," he said, "Or you've been praying for my safe return. So, which is it? Are you relieved?"

Finally finding his words, Min-jae's eyes raked down Jeremiah from head to toe, quietly assessing that he had in fact returned after the silent week that'd gone by. He hadn't known what to make of the days and nights the other dhampir had been absent from what may as well have been the entire world.

"You should probably speak with Ms. Choi," Min-jae said. "She has been the most panicked over your disappearance."

"And you haven't?" Jeremiah questioned, immediately regretting his choice of words, but instead of letting himself get tripped up by an approaching awkwardness, he pushed away from the sofa. "Never mind. I am a little offended that it seems no one from here made an attempt to look for me. I could have been bleeding out and dying, and you and Ha-yoon choose to return here like nothing happened? You've got to admit that it rings a lot of doubtful bells."

"It wasn't my decision," Min-jae informed.

Without having had a way to remain in contact with Jeremiah after he'd gone to Saengsacho, Ha-yoon had begun to panic after an hour of nothing. Knowing him as the son of an elder, an untouchable force to be reckoned with, for anything to have happened to Jeremiah while away sent Ha-yoon's anxiety into a downward spiral.

Min-jae had shrunk under her screams of order to know what could have happened to him in Saengsacho, had warned that the wrath of someone known as an Immortal Elder would crush them beneath their heel if harm had been brought to Jeremiah, but as the week went uninterrupted by a storm of fury, still Ha-yoon cowered in anticipation for ‘the permanent end'.

"I've wanted to go looking for you," Min-jae said. "It's Ms. Choi, who hasn't let me leave this building. Let's not forget I'm still in the dark about what the hell is going on with my home, my father is missing, and then you up and disappear, too. Since you're here now, I'll assume you know more than anyone did before you left the first time."

"I guess you can say that," Jeremiah weighed his own words, as he did also now have more questions than answers regarding this matter.

He recalled taking steps through Saengsacho with his senses spread as wide as possible. Picking up on the draw of human beings hadn't been difficult, but that was where his ability to feel others in the area stopped.

And then that bizarre, underground facility. There hadn't been any other human presence besides the man that'd led him down there. Imagining Min-jae's father still bound to that chair, his blood being siphoned from his veins for…

What was the purpose of pumping blood from an immortal's veins?

Jeremiah thought as the vision of Dae-jung sat clear before him. He'd been so gaunt, looked so bone-weary, and virtually drained dry. Was that what they were waiting for, for Dae-jung's body to fail until he withered completely? Jeremiah knew what could happen to a vampire if blood were restricted for longer than their cravings could take, but he'd never come by what could happen to a vampire whose own blood was drained from their body.

Would they perish as similarly as a mortal? Would they become crazed and skeletal until they were put out of their misery? Jeremiah thought it an awful experience.

Then his mind fumbled over his own experience in Saengsacho and his nerves tensed.

"Are you alright?" Min-jae asked, and Jeremiah stepped around the other dhampir. Remembering the…stings…the manner that knife pierced and tore into his body, how it'd felt dragging against the point of entry as his blood coated it.

Jeremiah almost wanted to be honest with Min-jae and tell him how awful it had been. Then he'd be able to vent the pains away, but…words of how he'd suffered would reinforce the truth that a weakness was present in his life now and vocalizing it would make it all too real.

"Yeah," Jeremiah said dryly, clearing his throat then. "I was just remembering how I came into contact with your father while I was there."

"You did?" A start entered Min-jae, following behind Jeremiah who'd drifted a bit across the living room. He grabbed the other dhampir, hands wrapping around Jeremiah's biceps with an unconscious force. "Why didn't you say so sooner?"

Nearly deaf to Min-jae's fret, Jeremiah gasped from the grip tightening around his arms. It didn't necessarily hurt, nor was he frightened of what strength he knew Min-jae could possess if he tried, but still this force constricted around him and keeping him in place rang an inner alarm.

With a force of his own, Jeremiah wrenched himself away and shoved. "Back off!" he shouted, holding his tongue abruptly after as he hadn't meant to yell. "I — I'm sorry," he tried to cover as this newly born panic surged from every which way. "I'm sorry I didn't mention your father first. We should meet with Ha-yoon since this is something both of you should hear."

"Did something happen to you there, too?" Min-jae questioned then, inquiry on his brow as his eyes stayed on Jeremiah. "You're different."

A defensiveness hiked in Jeremiah but he kept his lips sealed. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to talk about it, more so with someone who may as well still be a stranger.

Then again, as Jeremiah's quiet stare strayed to the floorboards, he pondered on his chosen therapies through the years.

Being the center of attention in the eyes of a stranger had become his remedy, and whether or not that was considered a healthy line of defense against what despair reached him — after losing the two attentive smiles that'd been constant to him for ten long years — it was the attention gladly granted to him that silenced everything else.

Would essentially exposing his worries to Min-jae bring solace?

"Perhaps not," Jeremiah said aloud without thought.

On the outside, Min-jae didn't look like the kind of person Jeremiah was used to letting get close. More often than not, they were pursuers already in search of his attention. In order for the fulfillment to be obtained on his end, it was integral that they want something from him already. Without a doubt, it was always sex they wanted, even if it was just foreplay that led to satisfaction brought to the other party.

Focusing on pleasures of the flesh had always worked wonders, but as Jeremiah took in who Min-jae was, even if he still didn't know the other dhampir intimately or really at all, Min-jae didn't seem like someone who would ever be lured into carnal affairs for the hell of it.

"Perhaps not, what?" Min-jae asked.

"It's nothing," Jeremiah waved his words away. "Go put some clothes on so we can speak with Ha-yoon."

"It's one in the afternoon," Min-jae noted. "Wouldn't she be asleep?"

"Right…" Jeremiah hummed in thought. "I could just wake her up, but…" He looked at Min-jae again. "I guess we've got some hours to kill by ourselves. Have you eaten recently? Apparently I've been out for an entire week, and I'm starving for anything." At the mere mention of sustenance, his stomach groaned as if in demand for something to fill it.

Without saying a word, Min-jae retrieved one of the few packs of blood Ha-yoon had given him. He thought it was strange to have human blood stored in an ordinary refrigerator, but with it being the only thing he had access to so he could quench his hunger, there weren't many other options to turn to. Then again, it wasn't like he hadn't already gotten a taste of it. Through the week, he had to talk himself out of draining each serving dry.

"Keep it," Jeremiah said. "If you don't mind, we can grab some real food from somewhere."

After some minutes so that Min-jae could put himself together and tend to his isolated mother, the pair were standing beneath the cloudy skies of Seoul, the hustle and bustle of this Saturday afternoon moving the city life along.

With his hands tucked in his pockets, Jeremiah kept his eyes open for anything that caught his attention, and soon they were seated together in a small-time barbeque place. There were a few people inside talking amongst themselves, couples and friends, and Jeremiah seated them at a window overlooking the street below.

As the center grill warmed up, Min-jae pushed an impatient breath from his lungs as still nothing was said. He wanted to probe Jeremiah on the matter of coming into contact with his father, but then he spied a blemish against the other dhampir's left forearm.

Having been seated in the chair across the way, Min-jae switched to the one to Jeremiah's left and took his forearm without thought. He wasn't a stranger to scars; he knew what they were even if he'd never had one before, but now knowing he and Jeremiah were the same, at least relatively the same, the sight of a past wound puzzled him.

"Is this a scar?" Min-jae asked, turning Jeremiah's arm to see the matching imperfection on the other side. "I thought our kind healed from anything. Have you always had this?"

Jeremiah kept his eyes on how Min-jae examined him, how careful he was being, like he already expected a reaction much like the one he'd had at the apartment to follow. There was care and patience in the manner Min-jae handled him, and when he passed a thumb across the tender marking, Jeremiah could feel how sensitive it still was.

"Does it hurt?" Min-jae asked.

"I thought you didn't know what pain was," Jeremiah said, acknowledging again how clearly he could feel the existence of this permanent flaw upon his body.

"Just because I've never felt pain doesn't mean I'm ignorant to it," Min-jae countered, finally unhanding Jeremiah's arm. "I've known people who've broken bones and have gotten cuts and bruises. Wounds never looked like something people enjoyed, but since you and I are the same, seeing you with a scar just made me worry a bit."

"Worry?"

From the way the simple word left Jeremiah's mouth, Min-jae sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "What, now? Am I not allowed to worry?"

"I didn't say that, I just…"

As if looking for a way out of the current topic of himself, Jeremiah noticed the table's center grill was fully heated and turned his attention to it instead. It was like he could sense Min-jae's eyes on him still and a desire to demand for whatever else he'd meant to say, but when nothing else arose, the two delved into their shared meal.

The small servings of soups and other vegetables were delicious, however; when Jeremiah made the unconscious move of tossing a piece of meat fresh off the grill into his mouth, the second the sizzling beef touched his tongue, he gasped and shot up from the table like lightning.

"Fuck!" Jeremiah shouted, spitting the piece of meat from his burning mouth.

Other patrons of the restaurant looked his way and Jeremiah immediately gestured in apology before hastily sitting back down. He ducked his head in shame, keeping a hand over his mouth as the torment continued for several seconds until fading away.

A hand touched down Jeremiah's back then, the comforting pass of Min-jae's hand, and when Jeremiah looked up, Min-jae was staggered by how red with tears the other dhampir's eyes were. They tumbled from Jeremiah's puffy waterline, rinsing down his cheeks and around his unmoved, trembling hand.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Min-jae asked. "What do you need?"

Keeping his voice to a whisper, it was impossible for Jeremiah to fight the embarrassment closing in around him, and he said, "I don't know. "

"Should we leave?"

Released from the hand of anguish, Jeremiah shook his head, stunned by the manner Min-jae then used the cuffs of his sleeves to clean the shine of tears from his face.

In a way, Jeremiah could see there really was a clear difference in the way he and Min-jae had been raised. Aside from growing up on opposite sides of the world, there was a carefulness ingrained in Min-jae that Jeremiah wasn't so familiar with.

He'd been raised to be mindful of himself when young, more so to hide what worry his father and Dominick lugged with them when he was a child. After coming to the realization that he was just about untouchable, all that vigilance left Jeremiah's side when cuts, bruises, and ghastly wounds turned out to be something that couldn't phase him.

Until now, it seemed.

Min-jae, on the other hand, seemed entrenched by regard.

Remaining close by, Min-jae rested a gentle touch upon Jeremiah's knee who quietly continued to collect himself. "My mom," Min-jae said, trying to lighten the mood with a pleasant voice. "She's probably the clumsiest person in the world. She's twisted her ankle, broken a bone twice, cuts herself almost every time she cooks, and I can remember all the times she'd burn herself from the stove, or like you did just now, eating hot foods too fast. I'm sure it's not often vampires complain about aches and pains since my father never made complaints, but whenever my mother did hurt, it always looked like something she wished would stop. I don't know what happened to you, but I want to be able to understand, Jeremiah. You're the only person who can tell me. What happened?"

"Are you familiar with a solo, concrete building out past the fields of violet?" Jeremiah asked, the tingling on his tongue vanishing.

"Yes," Min-jae nodded, turning his attention back to the food. Without being requested to do so, he took over preparing the red meat and setting it aside. "It's an abandoned electrical unit. I was told it used to power a small grid that was removed years before I was born, as well as some of the older houses and the convenience store we have there."

"And who told you that?"

Using a pair of shears to cut through a long slice of beef, Min-jae thought about it briefly. "No one in particular, really. It's just common knowledge that it's only used to power a small portion of the village."

Watching Min-jae plate a portion of greens and meat before sliding it his way, Jeremiah said, "Well, unfortunately, it seems it's being utilized for what appears to be blood collection."

"What?" Min-jae's eyes narrowed in confusion, looking around then as if questioning if it was right to talk about this in a public space. The other patrons of the restaurant were still very much engrossed in their own conversations, but anyone who might overhear the strange topic would listen in if they wanted, wouldn't they?

"That man Chung-hee and Hyun encountered," Jeremiah said, tapping a finger against the cooling beef atop a bed of greens. It was still hot to the touch, but not as scolding as before. "He led me into that small building after I demanded he take me to them. I was afraid they might already be dead since there was no trace of them anywhere, but what he led me to instead was apparently your father."

"And he was alive? "

Jeremiah nodded. "As alive as any vampire can be. He was connected to a machine that was drawing blood from his veins. When he saw me, he looked more troubled by the fact that I was there at all when he could tell that I was like you: a dhampir. What he wanted was for me to leave…like it was a life or death situation."

Pondering as Jeremiah tossed a bit of food into his mouth, Min-jae tried to imagine it. He couldn't get past how odd everything sounded. For the duration of his life based in Saengsacho, there'd never been any inner conflict between residents. Everyone had always gotten along. From the children to the adults and elders, if you were local to the small area, compassion was the default sentiment handed out.

"Before I could think of getting him and myself out of there," Jeremiah continued, "That man stuck me with a needle. It doesn't make much sense to me, but I could smell the blossomed violets that grew outside leading up to the building when it happened. It was like a bundle of them were being held under my nose, it was so strong, and then that's when he — he stabbed me, and I felt all the bad things that apparently come with being stabbed."

Able to perfectly envision his reaction to the startling event, a pity washed over him when a realization came to him.

"I'm sorry," Jeremiah said. "If I had been more prepared for anything, I could have at least saved your father in that moment. Now, he's still there. He's still there and so is Chung-hee and Hyun if they all haven't been killed yet." Jeremiah looked up, his eyes meeting Min-jae's bemused gaze as another apology fell from his lips. "I'm sorry I wasn't more cautious. If I had been, I would have been able to get him out. "

"Are you expecting me to be angry with you?" Min-jae said then.

"You're not?"

"Jeremiah, for all we know, you could have died," Min-jae stated. "I don't know you well, and you don't know me either, but to have someone die for the sake of my family isn't something I want. Your own father apparently put you at the head of this because he trusts you, and if I were him and you died in the process, I wouldn't let me or anyone involved live it down. You were hurt for the first time in your life; I'm not upset that you had what I'm sure was a very human reaction to panic."

The words said to Jeremiah by that man in Saengsacho repeated then.

Let's just say, I made you a little less…you.

"Those violets," Jeremiah said, remembering how their fragrance swept across the area. "What are they used for?"

"Tea mostly," Min-jae admitted. "They're around through the year except when it snows, and it's a popular brew. I help tend to it and other tea in the Spring and a few other herbs once they're ready for collecting. Even then, I've never had use for our medicines, ointments, and such. Most people are just familiar with the flower being a staple of growth and life in the area. You know how the Mugunghwa is South Korea's national flower, because it's known as the flower that never fades?"

Jeremiah nodded.

"The Pyrenean is what my home is named after, because of how it resurrects itself through the centuries. They can dry out, look like dead weeds for years and years, but once a touch of moisture soaks into their roots, they come back as beautiful as ever. It's only a myth, but a story spread that the violets blossomed for the first time after invasions during the late 1500s, and it supposedly wards off evil when ingested."

"And you've never drank it?"

"No. I'm not a fan of floral teas."

Looking around the establishment at the other restaurant goers going about their business, Min-jae was suddenly struck again with the almost unfathomable idea that he had never been like the people he'd grown up around. He'd always seen himself as similar to everyone else. After all, they shared a home, they shared an expansive and colorful history, and yet he was not quite…as human…or human at all like the rest.

Tossing a wrapped piece of meat into his mouth, Jeremiah chewed it down. "I need to get a sample of it for my father," he said. "When I go back, I promise I'll do my best to get yours out of there, too."

A scoff left Min-jae when he returned to eating.

"What was that for?" Jeremiah asked, looking Min-jae's way.

"After all you went through, you still plan on doing everything on your own."

"It's for the best," Jeremiah explained. "Now that I know exactly where your father is, I can get in and out of the area without alerting anyone."

"You don't know that," Min-jae countered. "Someone could be waiting for you to do exactly that."

"Do you want your father back or not?!" Jeremiah raised his voice, standing abruptly as the chair behind him scraped against the concrete floor. He hadn't meant to yell, really hadn't meant to as his outburst had come from nowhere along with the waves of heat rising in his heart. His anger had peaked, and he had to swallow down the additional sparks as best he could. Why was he so angry?

To Jeremiah's dismay — like before — everyone in the restaurant was looking in his direction.

Flooded with humiliation, Jeremiah lowered his head in apology to everyone around and excused himself from the table. He hurried from the building, down the iron stairs on the side, and into a quiet alley where the cloudy sky turned the dead end into a blockade enshrouded by shadow.

With the alleyway opening onto an active street several meters behind him, Jeremiah wished the distance he was could shut off the sounds of the world, but still the noise of vehicles, chatter, and everything that made the city a city remained.

Jeremiah turned his back to the side wall with a slight protrusion able enough to hide him. He rested his head, closed his eyes, and tried to think of anything at all to bring him away from this anxiety pumping through each and every limb.

They used to calm me, Jeremiah thought and through his mind soon flickered the past images of a pair once known so intimately to him. Their smiles, their voices and all encompassed him, but the quaintness of it never stuck around for too long. They brought thoughts of content only for them to turn into hopeless hankering.

Then his family came to mind and not even the reminders of his worth to them seemed to matter. Demiesius made him anxious, Hamilton underlined his repressed woes, and his brother's never failed to haul his envy from the depths, all of which he'd been able to hide from everyone through the years.

Nothing promised relief anymore.

Approaching footsteps sounded then and Jeremiah waited for Min-jae to come into view. His aura gave him away and it was a lot calmer than Jeremiah would have figured with all he'd heard a moment ago.

The Korean dhampir was only an inch taller, but Jeremiah couldn't escape the feeling of shrinking under the shade of his approach. As much as he'd wanted to be alone right now, there was a part of him that was grateful to have been sought out.

"It's probably useless," Min-jae said, keeping his voice just above a whisper. "But when I was overwhelmed, you told me to take a deep breath. You told me to breathe in through my nose and relax my shoulders."

There was a pause and Min-jae sighed as if unsure of himself. He held his hands out and Jeremiah looked over his palms. The lines against them were deep and long, unshaken and waiting as if patient enough for Jeremiah to make his own decision.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt, Jeremiah touched his hands down atop Min-jae's, and the pass of their mingling warmth faded into the other when he took in a long drag of air before releasing it.

"You told me not to pay any mind to my surroundings," Min-jae added, taking a step forward, a mere finger's length separating them and he closed their hands together. "Anything else that doesn't fit into your line of sight doesn't matter at this moment. I imagine what you went through and what it seems to be doing to you is scary, but right now, you're safe. Let your guard down and breathe."

"I can't let my guard down," Jeremiah shook his head, staying with Min-jae's eyes. "I don't want to disappoint."

"There's no one here to disappoint."

"My father—."

"Your father isn't here," Min-jae cut in, a squeeze meeting his hands that was monitored enough not to hurt, and the pressure Jeremiah couldn't help but feel the realness of drew his attention to it, to Min-jae.

Without a word as this yearning for something — anything — to take his mind elsewhere grew, Jeremiah softly tugged his hands free, fingertips hovering shakily before taking hold of the front of Min-jae's shirt. He gently tugged the Korean dhampir closer, his own back pressing up against the wall again as this warm pressure wedged him between it.

The world and its' sound remained, but the volume lessened the second the heat transferred from Min-jae's proximity immersed Jeremiah. He focused there, on the mellowness, on the notes of citrus and rain. Min-jae himself was reminiscent of dewdrops at dawn, and Jeremiah bundled himself even further into this morning-like embrace.

A tense shift careened down Jeremiah's spine when Min-jae returned the hold, hands gliding around his midsection, and when Jeremiah turned his face, his nose absorbed much more of this young man's personal fragrance. All of Min-jae's aroma captured him, his musk and the rapid attraction of what blood coursed through his veins.

Jeremiah breathed in deep, captured by the strength of Min-jae's smell that he wanted to rub off on him and consume all the same. His mouth watered and a tingle met his gums, fangs threatening exposure as the desire to feed took hold. It wouldn't be a crime to sample, to taste Min-jae if he buried his fangs. Unlike human blood or vampire blood, the essence of a dhampir lacked pull much like a mortal, and the addictive traits akin to vampire blood. But, even with that, Min-jae's spoor was mouthwatering, and he had to reel in his fancy to feed.

Relieved to be able to at least offer a moment of quiet as Jeremiah clenched the back of his shirt, Min-jae allowed for the seconds to pass, and said, "If there is anything you need, let it be me."