Born Sinner (Se7en Sinners #1)

by S. L. Jennings

  She stares at me with unabashed perplexity, the frown between those dual-hued eyes carved from disbelief, maybe a little bit of pity.

  “You feel guilt.”

  I nod, not truly wanting to, but unable to stop myself.

  “You don’t think you’re worthy of forgiveness…worthy of love.”

  I nod again, tears welling in my eyes.

  The young queen reaches out to touch a hand to the base of my neck. Her hand is warm, but a burst of soothing cold radiates from her fingertips, seeping deep down into my chest. I don’t dare move, not that I would want to. It’s like an ice pack for my shattered, rusted heart. It won’t fix what’s broken, but it doesn’t hurt as much.

  “Eden, you are not beyond saving. I see that in you, right now. I see it in those demons that have vowed to protect you with their lives. And I see it in the way…” She stops herself and shakes her head. “All will be revealed soon enough. You just need to believe that you’re worthy of salvation, despite what you’ve done. Despite the piece of your past that still grips you in your darkest days and haunts your nightmares.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I whisper through the emotion in my throat.

  “Because I’ve been there.” A small, tight smile curves her full lips. “I know what it’s like to be lost and afraid. Right now, you’re probably thinking that you’re powerless to stop the inevitable. And maybe you are—maybe there’s nothing you can do to change your destiny. But that’s the beauty of humanity. You can change—evolve. You can be more than what you were bred for.” She steps back, taking her cool, healing touch with her. The feel of her power echoes in my veins. “Come on. They’ll be getting restless.”

  She reaches out to take my hand, and the moment my skin brushes hers, space folds into itself and unravels to reveal four walls and nine frozen faces, locked in time. We’re back in the meeting room.

  With a casual wave of her hand, activity resumes seamlessly, as if there hadn’t been a twenty-minute gap between me challenging the king in his own home and reemerging out of thin air with the queen.

  Upon realizing that I’m no longer at his side, Legion jumps out of his seat as if it’s on fire, his towering frame nearly trembling with unspent rage. Phenex stands as well, if only to act as a buffer.

  “I’m fine,” I insist, before anything is said that could compromise our stay here. “Gabriella and I were just talking.”

  “Oh?” Dorian remarks, much calmer than the demon standing across from him. “And what did my lovely wife have to say?”

  “Girl talk,” she winks playfully in response. However, a look passes between them—an unspoken communication—that prompts the king to nod. It’s intimate in a way that makes me shuffle on my feet, so I take the opportunity to return to my seat. Somewhat satisfied, Legion sits. Gabriella takes her spot beside her husband as well.

  “Very well. So, shall we address the terms?”

  “The terms?” Legion gruffs. It’s the first time he’s spoken since we stepped into this room. I couldn’t imagine him going toe-to-toe with the Dark king anyway. They’d probably level the entire resort.

  “You are here because my cousin vouches for you. Apparently, you all had worked with my brother before his untimely passing, and were hoping I could lend similar assistance, correct? And if I knew my brother—and I did—I am sure he didn’t provide his services without some type of reciprocity.”

  “Yes,” Toyol answers before looking over to Legion with a pointed look. “And please accept my deepest condolences. Nikolai was a good man. He is missed.”

  “Yes.” Dorian’s voice is sharper than it had been, as if his tongue is tipped in venom. Even his eyes seem brighter, icier. The memory of his brother not only saddens him…it angers him. “That’s why you’re going to help me find him so I can bring him back.”

  “What?” Toyol looks to Phenex before flicking his gaze to Legion.

  “I want you to find him. From there, we will do the rest. That is, if you want us to help the girl.”

  “But that can’t be done,” Phenex pipes up, shaking his head. “We don’t have that authority.”

  “No. You don’t. But he does.” The king’s glacial stare falls on Legion with unrelenting certainty. “Legion, Collector of Fallen Souls. I knew exactly who you were the moment you stepped into my city. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  “Indeed it has,” Legion’s voice is just as chilling, those silver eyes swirling with their own mystic fire.

  “If memory serves, you have the authority to find any slain soul that may not have attained the Divine’s favor. I want you to locate my brother.”

  “And how do you know I can even do that? How are you so certain that he didn’t receive His favor?”

  The king smirks wickedly and steeples his fingers under his chin. “My brother was good at being Dark. I’m not deluded to believe he was a saint. These are my terms—agree to find him, and our magic is at your disposal.”

  Legion eases back into his seat, that tight jaw jumping with contained tension. At the break in the conversation, Phenex jumps in.

  “Your majesty, I’m sorry, but Legion can’t do as you request. The only way he has access to that power is to return to the underworld. And to do that, he must die on earth. And once we die… You understand how that would be difficult—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “What?” I yelp in disbelief. “You can’t! No! I won’t let you.”

  “We have a deal,” he reiterates, ignoring my pleas, along with objections from his friends. He stands to his feet and extends a hand to Dorian. “I’ll find your brother. As long as you help Eden.”

  The Dark king stands, his movements as fluid as water, and joins hands with the demon assassin. “It’s settled. Tonight. Dinner. We’ll send word.”

  Then within a single, ragged beat of my shattered human heart, they’re gone.

  When Dorian said he’d send word, I should have known it would be more complicated than that.

  The four of us are in the sitting room of our suite, arguing with the brick wall known as Legion over his senseless agreement to go on a suicide mission to locate the king’s deceased brother, Nikolai Skotos. Of course, he won’t hear anything other than the sound of his own voice, his stupid reasoning replaying on a constant loop. His life is too steep of a price to pay for me, regardless of the consequences. I’m not worth it, and every time I try to tell him so, he shuts me down.

  “We’ll find another way,” I plead. “You don’t even know if the information they’ll give us will be of use. You could be sacrificing your life for nothing.”

  “Listen to her,” Toyol urges. “How do we know we can even stop the Calling? It’s never been done before.”

  Legion doesn’t bother meeting our eyes. He just continues to clean his guns, although they’re still immaculate from the night before. “Then it’s time we find out. I didn’t commit my life to the Se7en only to cower from the first sign of adversity. I said I would protect you, and I will. Or I’ll die trying.”

  The frustration leeches from my voice, and I step forward, so close that I can feel the heat wafting from his powerful frame. “But there’s no guarantee that you can, L. And I don’t want you to give up everything you’ve worked for—fought for—over a shot in the dark. Please.” I risk a step closer and gently let my palm rest on his shoulder. He flinches at the intrusion at first, but before I can pull away, he reaches up to lay his hand over mine, holding it in place.

  I don’t know what it is—maybe the feel of skin or just the emotion of the day—but I find myself confessing, “I’m not afraid, L. I’m not afraid to die.”

  His voice is thick and tinged with a secret sadness. “Are you so ready to give up on yourself?”

  “If it comes to that—yes. If it means you get to live—yes.”

  “Well, I’m not.” He rescinds his blistering touch and looks back to the pieces of hardware on the table.

  I gaze over my shoulder and m
eet eyes with Phenex, my expression pleading. He has to get through to him. He can’t let his friend—his brother—risk everything just for me. He’s too important to the Se7en. He’s too important to…

  The voice echoes in my head, but its tone is unlike the one that whispers devious commands that inflict pain and cruelty. This isn’t the sound of my conscience. It’s the voice of a petite queen with eyes the colors of night and day.

  “Dinner in the private dining room in the restaurant at seven. All will be revealed then. Have faith, Eden.”

  Then she’s gone before I even realized she had slipped in.

  “Dinner is at seven. Downstairs in the restaurant,” I relay, my eyes wide and my face pale.

  “How do you know that?” Toyol questions.

  “Gabriella just told me. She…pulled a me on me.” But better, I should add. Her connection to my mind was seamless. I didn’t even feel it. It didn’t seem intrusive, as if she was sifting through my thoughts or memories. And her voice was so clear, as if she was standing right beside me, whispering in my ear.

  If Gabriella could march right into my head without me detecting it…what else could she do? How easy would it be for her crawl into those dusty, dark corners of my psyche and unearth all my secrets? How incredibly simple would it be for her to expose me for what I truly am and reveal what I’ve done?

  Panic squeezes my neck, choking all rationale. I don’t know if I can go through with this. I can’t allow her, or anyone else for that matter, to get into my head. It’ll not only cost Legion his life. It’ll cost me…everything.

  We agree to put our conversation on ice, and I’m grateful to have a few moments alone to get ready for dinner. I hate to admit it but I’m afraid. Legion said that he would protect me or die trying. But how far will that mercy extend when he finds out what I’ve done? Would I even be worthy of saving?

  I shake it off, tired of torturing myself with questions that I’m too chicken-shit to answer. Things are already in motion, and if I interfere, I could be making things worse…for all of us.

  Still, I have to try. Not for me or my selfish reasons. But for Legion. For once, I have to do what’s right.

  Since I packed light, I keep on the dress, and just pair it with a pair of nude heels Lilith snuck in the bag. I retouch my hair and makeup, giving myself a bolder, more glamorous look with red lips and loose curls. I remember Legion’s words earlier, and smile to myself, touching my fingertips to the hollow of my throat. He said I was lovely. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll still feel the same after tonight.

  We travel down to the restaurant in silence, each wondering what the evening holds for us. Gabriella said that all would be revealed, and while that terrifies me, I’m anxious to see what she meant by that. What is it that they hope to find, and how will they find it? I must admit, the world of Dark and Light fascinates me. To know that such limitless power exists here on earth, walking amongst humans for centuries undetected, seems unreal to me.

  Just days ago, I was a lost girl, ruled by pain and anger. Today, I am about to dine with demon assassins and supernatural royalty. Oh, and I’m a sleeper cell for the devil.

  The hotel’s fine dining restaurant is everything that I expect it to be. Prime cuts of meat and lush wines appear to be plentiful, and the atmosphere is chic without being stuffy. However, when we approach the hostess station, we’re swiftly led to a private area without having to utter a word.

  Unlike this afternoon, the Skotos family is already there, minus Alexander and young Nikolai. They chat casually over glasses of rich red wine and charcuterie.

  “Welcome,” Dorian greets us, an almost warm smile on his face—if you could call it a smile. His mouth can make the movement, but there’s something too sinister…too sensual…about it to be carved from merriment. I don’t believe he’s being deceptive. I just think he’s incapable of being anything less than wickedly seductive, even when he’s not trying.

  We’re greeted with kind, relaxed offers to sit and enjoy, another difference from this afternoon. I look to Legion, who observes the welcome with a tight, calculating stare, yet takes a seat across from the warlock. I follow his lead, taking the space to his right. Toyol sits beside me, with Phenex on Legion’s left.

  “Now that we’ve all gotten comfortable…” Dorian begins, swirling the blood red wine in his glass. “I hope you enjoyed the rest of your afternoon. Eden, is this your first time to the Springs?”

  Small talk? Really?

  I feel like I’m missing something—like some underlying meaning in his words. Or maybe he’s just trying to be nice. Life and circumstance has made me a skeptic.

  “It is,” I answer.

  “And are you enjoying your stay?”

  A server comes around to our side of the table, presenting two bottles of wine. Before I can think about choosing, Legion signals for him to pour the red one.

  “Considering that I haven’t left the hotel, what I’ve seen thus far is beautiful. A far cry from the south side of Chicago.”

  “Ah, Chicago. It’s been ages since I’ve been. Maybe we’re due a visit. Gabriella?”

  The queen nods. “I’ve never been. The only things I know about Chicago are deep dish pizza, the Cubs and Kanye West.”

  “See!” I squeal, forgetting myself and nudging Legion in the ribs. “He’s a Chicago treasure!”

  He flinches from shock, those silver eyes wide with bewilderment, no doubt wondering if I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. Then, he equally stuns me by shaking his head and—could it be— grinning.

  “I swear on this life, you all have no idea what music is.”

  “Agreed,” Dorian cosigns, holding up his glass in salute. “Half the drivel Gabriella and Morgan play makes my ears bleed. I refuse to let little Niko grow up without knowing what real music is.”

  “Hey! Don’t put me in this!” Morgan laughs, pretending to flick an olive at Dorian. “I have great taste in music. Right, Lars?”

  The tall blonde god with golden eyes strokes her hair lovingly, a keen smile on his face. “You’re so pretty. I love you.”

  “Liar!” she trills, playfully brushing his hand away. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you hated my music?”

  “Because you were so happy listening to it. And I was so happy to watch you.”

  The look of adoration on his face…his soft words falling from sensual lips…Morgan nearly melts into a puddle on the polished wood floor, and I don’t blame her.

  “You have to admit,” Gabriella chimes in, seeing that her friend is too busy making googly eyes at her beau, “not all modern music is bad.”

  “I’d have to agree,” Toyol nods. “I’m a fan of the 21st century myself. Actually, Eden has some great playlists. Aside from Kanye, of course.”

  They all have a chuckle at my expense, and I don’t fault them for it. Legion seems to be loosening up, and I have to admit, the Skotos family isn’t half bad. They almost seem…normal. Human, even.

  Dinner is superb, as expected. The juiciest, most tender cuts of steak, buttery lobster, crisp vegetables, and fluffy, whipped potatoes are served on huge platters family style, over bottles and bottles of the best wine I’ve ever tasted. A far cry from the cheap, fruity libations Sister and I would down on Friday nights. I miss her terribly, but I don’t let myself think about it. She’s safe now, content and secure. I couldn’t give her those things in all the years she’s been by my side, even though she’s been the one person in my life that deserved these comforts. But Legion did. And according to him, he did it for me.

  I don’t know what to think about that fact, but I’m grateful.

  And here I am, dining and laughing and chatting with royalty. Eating food I’d only seen while watching Food Network, and drinking wine that probably cost more than my weekly paycheck.

  I hate why I’m here and why I’ve been thrust into this world of myth and fantasy. But part of me is so damn amazed by it all. It’s as if my eyes are seeing color for the very first time, and
tastes and sounds are no longer muted by poverty and crime. And if I don’t have much time left on this earth—as a human girl or otherwise—I’m going to appreciate this gift, even if it was packaged in a curse.

  “Oh, Eden, I hope you left room for dessert,” Gabriella says after we polish off dinner. I can’t remember if I’ve ever eaten that much…ever. Meals at the Se7en high rise were delicious, yet I was always too nervous or too afraid to actually eat my fill. A tiny piece of me stirs as I think of how Jinn had spent so much time and care cooking for me. He can’t even eat half the food he prepared, yet he enjoyed having someone else—someone human—to cook for.

  I look down at my stomach. I’m about eight weeks along with a food baby. “Dessert? Are you trying to make me burst?”

  Right on cue, a line of servers enter with trays of every type of confection one could ever dream of. Cakes of all flavors and fillings, fresh baked cookies, beautiful pies and tarts, and delicate custards replace the platters of remaining meat and shellfish. My wide eyes bulge from my sockets as I spy a sheepish grin from across the table.

  “I like dessert,” Dorian says with a half shrug. There he goes. There he goes appearing almost human and seemingly harmless and thoroughly flawless.

  I understand what Gabriella sees in him. A blind woman could see it. But there’s something about him that makes me unable to trust the effortless charm and alarming good looks. Like, it just doesn’t seem real. It’s more of a mirage.

  “No one could possibly still be hungry,” I scoff.

  “Speak for yourself,” Toyol snorts, stacking a fresh plate with sweets. I look to Legion who is doing the same, while the ever-so-civilized Phenex settles for a modest serving of crème brûlée and fresh raspberries dusted with sugar.