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    Summary

    Now that it's a bit quieter, he can hear another low, animal groan. But that’s not an animal—it’s a person.
    And Mingjue has a sinking feeling he knows who it is.
    “Hey, fancy meeting you here,” Xue Yang says, trying to smile but one side of his mouth is cut. Mingjue hauls him to his feet as he stands, dropping his wrist as he heads back into the store from the back door. And he knows, without glancing behind him, that Xue Yang follows.
    Mingjue doesn’t say anything he reaches around him to set the deadbolt and they make their way to the bar. He snatches a glass as Xue Yang drops onto one of the stools, filling it with water and sliding it across.
    “I think I need something a bit stronger,” Xue Yang drawls around the split lip. There’s a bit of dried blood there, and the beginning of a nasty bruise to his neck. And the gods only know what injuries he’s hiding beneath his threadbare sweater, worn leather jacket, and faded black jeans.
    “Not until you tell me what happened.”
    “I pissed off the wrong person.” This time he manages a grin, but it re-opens the cut and blood beads at it. Xue Yang absently captures it and worries at the wound with his tongue.

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