Born Sinner (Se7en Sinners #1)

by S. L. Jennings

  “I’m fine,” I repeat, unable to find any other words. The kit in the glove compartment did the trick.

  “Shit. Shit!” he shouts, punching the steering wheel. “I should have been more careful. I should have swept the store. If anything would have happened to you…”

  “L…” I place my hand on his, the knuckles white with tension. He twitches, still jumpy from the fight, but I don’t let go. I can feel the power flowing through him—fire and violence in blood form. “I’m okay. It’s not your fault. Honestly, I should be thanking you. I would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

  He spares me a quick glance, scanning my entire frame. “I swear, on everything that I am, I will never take risks with your life again. Forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” I finally remove my hand from his and ball it in my lap, capturing the feeling of his immense power in my palm. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. They were human. I could have stopped them. But I just…froze. I should have done something to help.”

  Legion shakes his head. “Not your fault. You’re untrained, unfocused. I don’t expect you to do what I should have done.”

  “Then teach me,” I urge, turning toward him in my seat. “Train me. Show me how to harness my gift and use it to fight.”

  Nearly a minute passes before he answers. “It’s not your job, Eden. I don’t expect you to put your life on the line any more than you have.”

  “So…who were they?”

  He heaves out a heavy sigh. “The Alliance of the Ordained. A very old secret society that unifies every religion in the world for one purpose: eradicating evil.”

  What the…? “So they want to eradicate me?”

  “No. Just the opposite actually. They think they can save your soul.” He laughs sardonically, the sound chilling my bones. “Really that’s just PC code for wrapping you in a straight jacket and locking you away for the rest of your days. Among other things.”

  “But how…how do they know about me?”

  “Probably much like we know about you. The Alliance’s minions span the globe. They’ve probably got moles inside every hospital, school and mental institution in the world.”

  Shit.

  Shit shit shit.

  What else have I been completely blind to? Who else could possibly be looking for me?

  And who can I truly trust?

  “Why aren’t the Se7en and the Alliance working together? Since you both are hunting the Called?”

  “Because they’re pious sycophants that wouldn’t know the Word if it bit them in their self-righteous asses,” he growls. “The Alliance don’t believe in taking human life. However, they think they can exorcise the Called and save their mortal souls, when in actuality, they are dooming them to a far more grave existence. Shock treatments. Beatings.” He flicks his angry glance my way. “Lobotomies. Since they don’t actually kill their victims, they feel as if they are doing God’s Will. Death would be much kinder considering what they inflict on their victims.”

  “Death. Exactly what the Se7en exacts.”

  “It’s not something we take lightly, Eden. If there was truly another way, we’d—”

  “I know, I know. Save one to save a million. But why save me? Why not go through all this trouble for anyone else?”

  I think he has resolved to ignore me until he answers several seconds later. “You are very valuable. To us.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “To me.”

  “Why?”

  At that, he really does ignore me, focusing on speeding towards our war torn city. We’ve taken a different route, avoiding the priority roads in order to stay out of sight. It also makes it easier to tell whether or not we’ve been followed. When we stop to fill up, Phenex and Toyol sweep the entire perimeter, the bathrooms included. I don’t protest when Legion insists he stand outside the door.

  “Thank you,” I wince, not really understanding why the hell I’m thanking him. He saved my life—yes. More times than I can count on one hand. But I don’t get it. And I don’t buy the whole Jumper explanation. Not when there’s really nothing in it for them. Hell, they’re demons, for crying out loud. What do they care?

  Shit, why does he care?

  A short lifetime of shitty people and shitty foster homes has left me jaded and guarded, but for good reason. No one has shown me anything else. No one but Sister.

  And now even she is just a shadow of my past.

  Legion hurriedly leads me to the car under the cover of night, his hand on the small of my back. Even with doubt digging a hole in my brain, his touch never fails to disarm me. When he settles onto his side and revs the car to life just seconds later, he turns his silver gaze on me, its brilliance even brighter in the dark.

  “Every human life I’ve ever taken stays with me. Haunts me. I see them in my dreams. I see them whenever I look in the mirror. I hear their screams overpowering my own thoughts. Eden, if there were another way, I’d do it. And maybe we can’t save you. Maybe we’re just prolonging the inevitable. But I can’t do it. My soul is too heavy to bear one more unwarranted death.”

  He doesn’t speak the rest of the journey back to Chicago, but I keep the music on. Hopefully, it’ll drown out the screams in his head.

  “So what the fuck are you saying?”

  Cain’s scarred face is screwed up in a scowl, his pitch black eyes darting from me to his leader. We hardly had time to get cleaned up before Legion called a mandatory briefing, despite the late hour.

  “I’m saying that when the time comes, I’ll have to uphold my end of the bargain and find the warlock.”

  “You’re saying that you’ve resolved to lay down and fucking die!” The chair behind him screeches and falls with a loud crash as Cain jumps to his feet. “For her! She isn’t fucking worth it, L. She’s human.” The last word is bile on his tongue.

  “A human that we have vowed to help. A human that you will continue to protect, unless you’d like to challenge my authority,” Legion retorts, climbing to his feet. The two demons stare each other down for long moments before Cain finally looks away and trains his malicious glare on me.

  “This isn’t over.” The slamming of the heavy, steel front door is the proverbial period on the threat in his words.

  “He’s right, you know,” Andras says quietly, sitting beside Lilith.

  “Andras,” she scolds.

  “I’m sorry. L, you’ve been our leader…our brother. Our friend. What does it say about us if we just sit idly by and let you give your life for a girl you hardly know? There has to be another way. We’ll fight the warlocks. Their coven will be no match for the Se7en, regardless of their magic.”

  “We will not defy the Dark.” Legion sags back into his chair, his face weary. He drove all day without stopping for food or water. And after taking on the Alliance, he has to be exhausted.

  “L is right,” Phenex adds. “Waging war on them would divide the underworld. It would also mean more casualties—potentially human casualties. Earth cannot be collateral damage.”

  “And what will we do without a leader?” Toyol asks. He looks at Legion, his expression pleading. “Together we are strong. But without L, what will keep us together? Who will reel in Cain when he goes on one of his tirades?”

  “Phenex,” Legion answers.

  “What?” the rest of the table—save for Jinn—shrieks.

  “He’s a scholar, a diplomat. He’ll be able to talk Cain down, and lead you all down the path of the righteous. Plus, he’s fallen. He knows His word. Maybe even better than I do.”

  Phenex shakes his head. “But I was never one of the Seraph, L. My relations with them are fragile, at best.”

  “But they know you. And they know I trust you.”

  “And speaking of the Seraph…” Lilith begins. “There has to be some special reason they’ve decided to convene here. It’s as if they know Eden is here, under our protection. I know they like to check in every once in a while, but something about this visit is diff
erent.”

  “Irin?” Toyol questions.

  Legion answers with a shake of his head. “The Seraph despise the ways of The Watcher. They’d never be so humble as to ask. And they definitely don’t associate with the Dark. That would be seen as blasphemous in their eyes.”

  “Then who? Or what?”

  “I do not know.” There’s a touch of defeat in Legion’s voice, as if admitting that fact pains him. “But whatever it is, the Seraph’s involvement isn’t good.”

  “Maybe I…” Every eye turns to me at the sound of my voice, a meek whisper compared to theirs. I swallow down trepidation. I’d been invited to their meetings as a mere courtesy. But I have to speak up. I have to do something—anything—other than sit around and be a victim. “Maybe I can talk to them—the Seraph. Maybe if they see that I am safe and cared for, they’ll back down. Maybe they’ll even help.”

  “No!” Legion growls, his face morphing into something fierce and carnal. It’s enough to make me flinch, but I’m not afraid. Not of him. Not anymore.

  “Well, what about the Alliance? One less enemy on our trail would help. Maybe they were the ones to tip off the Seraph. I could go to them—tell them that I have not been harmed and that my life will be spared.”

  “I said, no!” The harsh tone of his voice rumbles the ground beneath our feet.

  “But it’s not right!” I counter, ignoring his edict. “I have to do something! I refuse to cower and hide for the rest of my life!”

  “You won’t have a life if you go anywhere near the Seraph or the Alliance!”

  I jump to my feet, slamming my palms on the marble tabletop. “So what the hell am I supposed to do?”

  Legion stands as well, dwarfing my frame with his. Power gleams from his eyes like flares. “You’re supposed to listen for once in your damn life! You’re supposed to stay with me!”

  I look up at him, my mouth suspended in a stunned O. The silence around the table is deafening, eerily so. Not even the sound of my panting breaths fills the space.

  Unable to shoulder the weight of his words and the intensity of his stare, I back away from the table, away from him. Stay with him? Nothing has ever seemed so tempting, yet so insanely impossible.

  Like a coward, I run to the back room, the very space I have been his prisoner and his enemy. His confidant. I know I can’t escape him, and something in me—something irrational and ruled by pure emotion—doesn’t want to. I don’t understand it enough to fight it. And if I did, I can’t be sure that I would.

  I keep my back turned to him as I hear his approaching footsteps. I don’t even breathe until I hear the door shut. But as his overwhelming heat grazes my back, my body gives over to instinct, and I spin around and press my chest to his, pulling his face down to meet mine. And I kiss him.

  I kiss him with everything in me, all the fear, all the rage, all the hopelessness. I kiss him like he can take them all away, surrendering to his lips and the feel of the fire raging within his chest. I kiss him and pray that he will save me once more, and kiss me back.

  Taut bands of muscle snake around my back as he lifts me off my feet, giving me access to more of his mouth—as hot and sweet and commanding as the rest of him. His tongue, so thick and unyielding, delves between my trembling lips and collides with mine. In a frenzy to taste more, I wrap my arms around his neck, fisting the long layers of hair that graze his nape. I pull hard enough to hurt, ignoring the bite of pain from the cuts on my hands. He answers my violent eroticism by palming my ass, digging his fingers into my pliant flesh, until he supports my entire weight. I lock my legs around his waist, the sting at my backside exciting me.

  I’ve never been that girl.

  The one confident enough to take what she wants. The one who could make men wither under her charms. The one who wouldn’t let fear keep her from sating her body’s desires.

  But now that I’m in his arms, absorbing his stifling heat with mine, I can’t remember a time when I felt more beautiful, more carefree. Because as he lays me flat on the bed and traps my body with his, none of that matters. I’ll never be that girl. But in the span of just a few minutes, or maybe since the day he brought me here, I became his, just as Lilith said. Just as sure as the ink etched in our skin. Just as sure as the blood pumping in our veins.

  He pulls away, just slightly, but I still tighten my legs around his waist, skinned knees be damned. Those silver eyes scan my face, searching for any signs of doubt. When he finds none, he frowns.

  “What is it?” I whisper, holding his cheek.

  “Eden…” A flash of torment passes his gaze and he closes his eyes. “You make me want to sin.”

  I cup his other cheek, hoping he can feel every ounce of my conviction. “Then do it.”

  Those star-flecked eyes find mine for just a second, before his lips join mine again. He kisses me urgently, as if my breath sustains him. My tongue meets his, stroke for stroke, lick for lick, mimicking all the ways I need him. I ache in the space between my legs as I flex against the hardness in his jeans. His erection is so full and pronounced that it pulses under the rough fabric down his thigh, burning, begging to be adored by my mouth and hands and body.

  He is need. He is passion. He is fire. And he can only be extinguished inside me.

  I tear at his pants at the same time that he rips my shirt, shredding the cotton into scraps. The tops of my heavy breasts feel the chilled air for only a second before they are covered with the heat of his mouth. He pushes them up, freeing them from the lace of my bodice to reveal my peaked nipples. Wet lips graze the tips, one at a time, before he draws one into his mouth, sucking hungrily, greedily. I moan loudly as he nibbles and licks before laving the other, eliciting even more erotic sounds.

  I could come from this alone. Shit, I’m close to it already. But I have to feel him. I want his fury, I want his aggression. I want him to fill me with the fire that rages underneath his golden skin.

  I tear open his fly and paw ravenously at the massive thickness that throbs between us. It’s too long and rigid for me to maneuver so I unhook my legs and use my knees to push down his jeans. My mouth salivates with the anticipation of holding it in my palms and tracing each vein. I imagine etching them with my tongue, those ridges pumping with life between my lips. I’ve never actually been intimate enough with a man to explore that carnal side of me, but for some reason, I can’t wait to taste him. It’s as if I already have, and the memory of his flavor is embedded on my mouth.

  Legion releases my sensitive nipples and sits up on his knees. With that penetrating stare trained on my writhing flesh, he hooks his fingers into his jeans and slowly, torturously eases them down. A sharp V flows into the hard root of him, smattered with fine, dark hair. I lick my lips. He’s thicker than I could have imagined, but the thought of him ripping me apart in erotic rage only causes the trickle of wetness between my thighs to soak my panties even more.

  He pushes the jeans down to his thighs, and I shiver. I haven’t even seen the tip of him yet, but I know every long inch of him is beautiful. I extend my hand towards him, hoping to feel that silken skin on my fingertips. The heat that radiates from him promises to melt my walls and turn my insides to liquid. His sheer size would probably penetrate every part of me until I choke on my moans.

  A little bit further down, and I see the beginning of a generous, swollen head that will lick at my quivering womb. A little bit further down and—

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “L,” Toyol calls out. “Cain is back. We need to do the Blood Oath.”

  “Shit,” he spits, pulling his jeans back over the cut of his hips. “Shit!”

  The moment’s magic dissipates like dust particles in the air. I suck in a ragged breath. The tingling in my limbs begins to recede, replacing the fire with icy cold. I look away from Legion, ashamed of my nakedness, and pull the shreds of my shirt over my breasts.

  “Hey.” His voice is soft, apologetic. “I have to…”

  “I know
,” I nod, still unable to meet his gaze. Just seconds ago, I lay before him, baring myself, begging to taste him, feel him. Now I can’t even look him in the eye.

  I listen to the rustle of his clothes as he rights himself. When I hear his footfalls towards the door, I finally sit up.

  “You should be there.”

  I shake my head, giving him my naked back. “No. You go.”

  “I want you to be there. The Blood Oath is sacred, but… I just want you there.”

  I dare a look over my shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “It’s up to you. But, if you want…if you would let me share this piece of me with you, it would mean something. To me. I want you to see me.”

  And I understand exactly what he means.

  He’s carried the weight of thousands of lost souls for centuries, hoping to atone for their sins. That’s what people see when they look at those swirling silver eyes. That’s what they think when they hear his name. But that’s not who he is. That’s not all he is. He’s just never let anyone see it.

  “I am Hell on earth, Eden. But that doesn’t mean I want to be.”

  Maybe this is his way of opening up and showing me exactly who and what he wants to be. Maybe this is the first step.

  “Okay.”

  He nods once, placing his hand on the doorknob. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the hallway.”

  I have no idea what a Blood Oath is, but it sounds daunting as hell. I probably should have asked what I would be getting myself into, but I was too shaken up by the almost-sex we just had. Still am, if I’m being honest. One minute we’re fighting for our lives, then the next, we’re tearing off each other’s clothes. I don’t get him. Most days, he acts like he doesn’t even like me. But then there are the times when he’s gentle and kind. Like when he holds me during my nightmares. And after The Watcher’s party…how he pressed himself against my ass and told me that it was someone else he was thinking about as he kissed Irin. And how he shared the story of his tattoos, specifically the one in tribute of his lost wings.