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“He’s been drinking and the night air is still cool. Go now.” The words came out sharply and Chen couldn’t quite meet Xiang’s eyes as he spoke. It felt safer to stare at Moon as he motioned for the man to take a seat on the sofa. “You will drink some hot tea. It’s one of my personal blends of black tea, blackberries, and sage. It will help you feel better.”
Moon flopped onto the sofa with a bounce and sighed at Chen. “I knew you cared about me.”
“I care about how you can help my clan,” Chen corrected, refusing to think another second more about what he’d done.
“That’s right! Your clan! You need a witch.” Moon clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Is this your clan? Are there more of you? What do you need a witch for? You mentioned something about the fae.”
Chen shifted his eyes to Shixiong, who’d settled in his normal place at the head of the room. Thankfully, some lines that had dug into his brow disappeared. There was even a hint of a smile teasing the corner of his lips higher as he watched Moon as if he were the most interesting creature to enter their domain.
“Mr. Moon—”
Moon chuckled. “It’s Moon Mullins, but please, just call me Moon. Everyone does.”
“As you wish. You may call me Daniel. I am the leader of the Zhang clan.”
Moon’s nose wrinkled. “But Chen called you ‘Shixiong.’ That’s not your name?”
“Shixiong means elder clan brother,” Xiao Dan replied. “My name is Zhang Xiao Dan, but we thought it might be more comfortable for any Americans we meet if we used Western-style names.”
Moon shrugged. “Don’t worry about accommodating me. I practiced Chen Bo Cheng’s name in the car. I’m happy to practice your name until I get it right.”
Something fluttered in Chen’s chest when his name unerringly fell from Moon’s lips. His accent was accurate. Moon had practiced. It was the only explanation.
Even Xiao Dan was smiling at Moon. “Thank you, but I am happy with Daniel. This is one of my clan mates, Zhang Junjie.” He motioned to Jun-Jun, who was sitting across from them.
“You may call me Jun,” Jun-Jun stated.
“This is Su Ming Yu,” Xiao Dan continued, motioning to his eldest sister seated beside Junjie.
“You may call me Sue,” she said softly, with a bow of her head.
“This is Gao Mei Lian.”
Meimei tipped her head to the side, sending her short hair down in a small curtain. She perched on the arm of the chair beside Chen. At least she’d bothered to change from her pajamas into a pair of white pants and a T-shirt—though it was of a man kneeling on the ground, sobbing as he held two large fish in his arms. More K-Drama nonsense, most likely. “Hi! Everyone calls me Meimei.”
“Hi, Meimei. Love your shirt,” Moon greeted, making Mei Lian squeak.
“And the one who is getting your tea is Li Xiang, but he’s enjoying the idea of being called Sean,” Chen muttered.
Moon’s gaze moved around the room and settled on Chen. “There are only six of you?”
He shook his head, hating the tightness that grew in his throat. “There is a seventh member of our clan.” He should be numb to this. It had been a century, but he was reacting more. Likely because they were so close now to getting their shidi back.
“One hundred years ago, just prior to Moving Day, an elf kidnapped our youngest brother, Wu Yichen, and took him to the fae realm,” Xiao Dan explained.
“Oh shit,” Moon whispered. “You’re trying to rescue him.”
Xiang returned to the room, carrying a wooden tray with a proper tea set. Instead of placing it close to Moon, he put it before Chen, allowing him to pour a cup for Moon.
Chen checked to make sure the smell and color were correct. Only then did he hand the cup to their guest. At least Xiang still knew how to make a proper cup of tea.
Chen placed the handleless cup in front of Moon, but the witch didn’t move to pick it up. He frowned at it.
“Would you rather have water?” Chen prodded.
Moon’s head jerked up, and he blinked at Chen, then at the cup as if only now noticing it was there. “No. Sorry. Lost in thought.”
The smile he flashed at Chen was different. Hesitant and slipping away almost as quickly as it formed. Moon picked up the cup and cradled it between both hands, breathing in the scent curling up from the pale-brown water. He took a careful sip, followed by a second, deeper drink.
When he grinned at Chen this time, the earlier warmth had returned, along with the sparkle in his golden eyes. “I’ve never been a hot-tea drinker, but this is amazing. Thank you.”
Warmth spread through Chen’s chest like he’d been the one to sip the beverage. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled, tearing his eyes away. He kept his hands busy by pouring more tea into Moon’s cup after he set it on the table.
