The Sin Eater (A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation Book 5)

by Jennifer Harlow

  He begins saying it again, chanting it, and I know I’m supposed to say it with him. We repeat it like a mantra ten times, twenty, his pelvis massaging against mine and mine his, eyes never leaving one another. Twenty times. I sense it, I feel it grow with every word. Building, building like an orgasm in every cell. The world falls away and all that remains are his eyes, that erection, those words. It grows and grows until…he releases my hand and instinctively with those final words we press our hands to each other’s chests.

  Boom.

  The moment we say the word “thine” as we touch, its as if I spontaneously combust with energy. I’m ripped apart into stardust and instantly rebuilt again. And I’m on the floor. With all the furniture flying around the room from the blast zone. It takes me a moment to re-enter my body but it’s different. I recognize it instantly. I’m different. I should be exhausted but I’m still buzzing like a battery and panting as if I swam the English Channel. Thinking comes next. I glance around the room to find his the goons picking themselves off the ground too as they toss off the debris from the coffee table and chairs I exploded. I seem to be intact too. My wounds hurt but I touch my neck and only come away with minimal blood.

  “Beatrice?”

  Connor’s scared. Terrified. Excited. Confused. I know he’s these things before I turn to find him also on the floor a few feet away. I know it as if he had just said those very words to me. And his skin. Peaches and cream instead of just cream. It’s almost…human. He stares at me. No, at something at my feet. A piece of what was once his coffee table. He stares, his eyes crinkling this time with concentration. The piece of wood flies across the room. Connor smiles which quickly becomes a laugh. Guttural, pure joy laughing, the kind where my new soul mate rolls around on the floor cackling away like a lunatic.

  “We did it!” he laughs to the heavens. “I did it! I won!”

  I fall on my back and stare up at the ceiling too. Yeah. I won.

  *

  “No asshole, you have to focus. Focus.”

  “I am!”

  “You want to get us both killed? Fine. If not then fucking focus!”

  We’ve been staring at a row of books on the bar for one full hour and none have lifted. Fun with telekinesis training while the vampire version of Seal Team Six, consisting of the full inner circle of Jack, Neil, Edgar, Avril, Thomas, the bartender Mathilda, and others I haven’t met have all en massed at the apartment or are out assembling the arsenal and travel arrangements, but we both agreed the wagon trail won’t depart until Connor moves all these books. First we needed blood transfusions, then separate showers followed by a steak dinner for me. I can’t remember ever being so hungry in my life. Guess that’s part of my new normal. Along with sensing what Connor’s feeling, heightened hearing, clearer vision, and my hair looks like its commercial ready, and my skin’s glowing as if I were pregnant. I think my breasts and butt are perkier too in my black turtleneck and jeans. I’ve lost ten pounds and ten years. So far I can see the appeal of being a familiar.

  Connor continues staring at the book then groans in frustration, lowering his finger. “This is impossible.”

  “You did it before, right? With the wood? And once you’ve got it, you’ve got it. It’s like riding a bike. Just block out everything else. Nothing exists but the book and your will to lift it. So lift it! Lift!”

  As I instructed earlier, he raises his finger to focus where he wants the power to go. No joy yet. I expect this to take another hour at least. I’m enjoying watching him fail time and time again. Life’s small pleasure—

  The telephone beside us rings, breaking his concentration. He groans again. “Bloody hell!”

  Neil picks up the phone. “Yes?” The minion listens and whatever is said on the other end brings a smirk to his face. “No. Please send him up.” Neil hangs up, still smirking. “Special Agent Montrose demands an audience. He is on his way here.”

  My face, my stomach, my composure all fall. No. No, no, no, no, no…

  Connor chuckles. “Oh, my night grows even better. This should be interesting.”

  There’s no place to sit after I destroyed most of his living room and kitchenette, including the chairs, so I just stand here willing my legs not to give out. What the heck is he doing here? Him being here is not part of the plan. Why…? Stop, Calm down, Bea. It’s done. It was done the moment I arrived here. Before. Nothing’s stopping this now.

  “No one hurts him,” I order. “Not one fucking finger is laid on him.”

  “We will be civil if he extends us the same courtesy,” Connor assures me. There’s a knock on the door. “Enter.”

  Oliver, flanked by two other vampires with guns, rushes into the apartment. For the first time ever I am genuinely sickened by the sight of him. Heck, I can’t even look at him. I gaze down at the floor, but I know he’s staring at me, at first elated I’m in one piece, but the longer he doesn’t say anything I know he’s growing horrified. That last guess comes from the glee Connor’s experiencing this moment. I hope he’s choking on my despair. “Oh, Trixie. Wh-what have you done?”

  “What I had to.”

  The room remains pin drop silent. “You…made her do this. You—”

  “No, I did not,” Connor says happily. “She had to convince me.”

  “What? No. I…Trixie?” I don’t reply. “Why? Why would you do this?” I think he takes a step toward me. “Why—”

  I finally peer up at him. “Because I had no choice. Because your girlfriend didn’t keep her end of the bargain. Because my family deserves better.”

  “Not to mention the ten million dollars I paid you,” Connor adds.

  Bastard. Oliver glances from him to me, and I gaze down again. I hope Connor chokes on my shame too. “Trixie?”

  “What? What?” I look back up at him. “Don’t you dare fucking judge me, Oliver. You…” I take a step toward him. “You have absolutely no right to come here and judge me. Not you. Not after what you did to me last night.”

  “What? I…I do not…”

  “‘You’re a goddess. You make me a better man. I know. I understand. We have all the time in the world,’” I hiss. “How long exactly was all the time in the world? Ten minutes? Twenty? How long between when you left my bed and when you stuck your dick into her?”

  His face contorts into shock and horror. “Trixie, I—”

  “I saw you. With them. With her. I woke up alone. Terrified. I couldn’t find you. So one of her asshole minions took great glee in bringing me to her bedroom. And you…never came back. You left me alone. Did she pressure you into sleeping with her? Made it part of the deal to keep me safe?”

  He has to look away from my gaze this time. “No. She would never—”

  “So it just…happened? Like this just happened?” Another step. “Your girlfriend failed me. I was manhandled out of her fortress, forced to the ground, had a guns on me, strip and cavity searched, and delivered straight here while the woman you said would protect me slept naked beside you. Guess what? He won. There was nothing left to do. Nothing else I could do except stop fighting. End this bullshit. I choose to get mine. For my family. To protect them. And you.”

  “You…sold your life to him to protect me? By agreeing to butcher my oldest friend?” Oliver asks, voice trembling. “Do you honestly think I would just stand by and let you harm her?”

  “You said you would. Last night. Or was that just an empty sentiment too?”

  “What?”

  “What I did to Will. You said you’d always come for me. Do anything for me. You’d walk into hell with me. No matter what. Prove it. Me or her.”

  “Trixie…”

  “Me. Or her. We’re taking the bitch down. Tonight. You can be on the winning side, my side like you promised and fight with us. With me.”

  “Or you are against me,” Connor finishes for me.

  Oliver stares at me as if he doesn’t recognize me. “This is wrong.”

  “It is what it is,” I say. “Me o
r her.”

  “This is not you. It—”

  “It’s me now,” I cut in. “Me…or her.”

  “I-I…cannot. I cannot support you in this. This is madness.”

  My whole body slumps. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I literally turn my back to him to face Connor. “Lock him up somewhere. Get him the hell out of my sight.”

  “Trixie—”

  “But don’t hurt him. We may be able to use him tonight,” I say, returning to the books.

  “Get your hands off me! Trixie!” Oliver calls behind me.

  “Down to the garage. Watch him closely,” Connor orders. “Only hurt him if necessary.”

  “Trixie! Beatrice! Get your hands off—”

  I hear fist connect to body before Oliver groans in pain. I wince myself but don’t turn around. If I look at him I’ll crumble. A few seconds later the groans cease and the door shuts. I rest my head on my arms on the bar. This wasn’t supposed to happen. What was she doing, letting him come here? She should be protecting him. She doesn’t give a crap about him. And still he sides with her. She—

  “Well, that settles that,” Connor says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “We now have concrete proof that you love him more than he loves you,” Connor says no doubt with a smirk. “Interesting.”

  It takes every ounce of restraint not to punch him until he has no face left. “Shut the fuck up and get back over here. Unless you want to die tonight, you need to learn this. Now.”

  Connor moves over to me. “Yes, General,” he says with a salute. God I so prefer him sneaky and Machiavellian to chipper.

  “Point to focus. Concentrate,” I whisper into his ear. “The book wants to lift. You are its master. Every atom is yours to command. Feel them. Focus on them. They belong to you. They are yours. Now force them to do what you want them to. Lift. Lift.” The book shakes but doesn’t lift. “Lift!”

  The book finally moves an inch off the bar. It falls a millisecond later. Connor chuckles. “I did it. I—”

  “Again,” I order.

  Connor stares at the book and after three seconds, it levitates again. “Hold it…lift it higher…set it down.” The book does all three.

  “Holy shit,” Neil mutters.

  Connor laughs again. “I did it. I—”

  “You can celebrate when you’ve moved them all. Lift!” The next book levitates, then the next, the next, one by one until all six have had a turn. “Good job. You’re a quick study.”

  “Thank you,” he says with pride.

  “Now sweep Neil’s legs from underneath him.”

  “What?” Neil asks.

  Connor waves his hand, and Neil’s legs go sideways. The man collapses to the floor as all the other minions laugh.

  “By Jove I think he has got it,” Connor laughs.

  Connor points at what’s left of the sofa and it moves a few inches off the ground too. “Take it easy there,” I say, stepping in front of him. “You’re a newbie. Don’t blow your wad. We’ll practice more on the plane. I think we’re ready.” A huge grin stretches across my face.

  “Let’s kill the bitch.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  See The Light

  Sixteen. Sixteen times I’ve sat on a private plane soaring through the air, off to fight monsters. To put my life on the line to save innocents. Werewolves, trolls, witches, zombies, ghosts, a basilisk, even creatures I’d never heard of. I’d faced them all down and emerged victorious. For the most part. But those victories were due in large part to the people around me. Will and his tactical experience. Carl risking his sanity every time he had to take on the emotions of a victim. Andrew interviewing witnesses only he could. Nancy’s enthusiasm cheering us on. Wolfe, Chandler, and Rushmore taking on the busy work and having our backs even though they’re just ordinary humans against literal monsters. And Oliver. Always by my side, always backing me up or pulling me back from the bad plays. All of us F.R.E.A.K.S. A messed up family who rarely saw eye-to-eye on a thing, but when it counted, we came together and saved the day. Killers, monsters, abominations on the side of the angels.

  Glancing around this plane, all I see are devils. Twelve sadistic, ruthless sociopaths all filled with glee at the prospect of tonight’s massacre. None more so than my soul mate. Even without our new psychic link I’d be able to sense his excitement and joy. The vamp’s barely stopped smiling since we left his apartment. To think I used to adore that smile and those crinkles around his eyes. Right now I want to slice his face and lips off. Me, I still don’t feel a damn thing save for the nerves below the surface occasionally threatening to boil over. Those moments Connor stares over at me with a grimace himself. I’m harshing his buzz. We just return to training. Avril’s had her gun flung out of her hand, Neil’s been knocked to the ground, and two parries with the silver sword wielded by Edgar were swiped away with a flick of Connor’s finger. Yeah, I’m with twelve devils who would gladly see me dead. And I chose this. I chose to do this. And what happens when we land will be on me too.

  The situation might be bearable if not for the bound and gagged vampire with a gun trained on him staring at me through the half hour flight. I do my best to ignore him, I need to concentrate on Connor’s training, but I can always sense his eyes on me. I thought about convincing Connor to leave him in the secret garage room to spare him tonight’s horrors, but he could be forgotten in the aftermath and starve down there. There was some talk from Neil about slitting his throat in front of Antonia to further demoralize her, but I threated to rip his heart out if he tried. Even after he chose her.

  Just as Edgar thrusts his sword at Connor, Connor flicks his finger and Edgar’s wrist twists. Connor frowns, but the pilot announces we have to fasten our seatbelts. I sit beside Connor on the couch. “I was focusing on the sword, not his arm,” Connor says. “It should have flown out of his hand.”

  “I told you, you’re a neophyte and a lot of the power is instinct or emotion based in the beginning. The important part is you can use it at command. All you need is one swipe of her legs or loss of the sword and she’s dead. That is if she accepts the duel. If it’s war then your instincts will do the rest in the battle.”

  “What if she does accept the duel, sir?” Neil asks. “You kill her and then what? Her people will not just embrace their new ruler with open arms.”

  “We know who her top people are. We call them in or track them down and kill them, of course,” Connor says. “Even if they swear fealty. We must put down the rebellion before it even begins.”

  “Yeah, great start to your reign, psycho,” I say. “Killing without provocation. Gonna put their heads on spikes too?”

  “I do this for you as well, fairest. Those in her regime will retaliate against you and your family to wound me.”

  “Whatever. I’d still forgo the spikes,” I say snidely.

  From this vantage I can’t help but view Oliver out of the corner of my eye. He stares at me with such derision and scorn it turns my stomach. It physically hurts. Connor senses it and glances from me to Oliver. “Jack, please strike Agent Montrose.”

  Before I can protest Jack socks Oliver square in the jaw. I gasp as Oliver slumps against the wall. “Do not look at her in that manner. She is the only reason you still have your precious face. I wanted to cut it off and present you to Antonia, but she talked me out of it. If you live to see another night, it will solely be because of Beatrice. Show some bloody gratitude.” Connor places his hand over mine to comfort me, but I quickly snatch it away. Connor scoffs. “Another one who can use a lesson in that virtue.”

  “Silence is a virtue too,” I say smugly.

  And that’s how we land, in silence. Neil arranged two vans to meet us at the private air strip. What the drivers must think as we equip our knives to our belts, our guns with silver bullets, and a Kevlar vest for me. Soon they think nothing. They’re quickly hypnotized to forget us after we reach the club. I watch as Jack shoves Oliver into the other van, my
friend pleading with his eyes for me to come to my senses. My stomach clenches again. Staring back into his sad, terrified eyes, I suddenly want to take it all back. I don’t want to climb into this van. I don’t want to go into that bar. I want it to be four hours ago when my soul was my own. Where I wasn’t walking towards death beside a man I loathe. I don’t want to fight and kill.

  I close my eyes before the tears begin. What have I done? What have I done? I thought I wanted this. It seemed so clear, the solution, and that rightness, the clarity, clouded all emotion. This was the only solution. It truly was. I made my decision. It’s too late to back out now. Now I just have to see this through. To the bitter end.

  “Beatrice?” I open my eyes and Connor stands in front of me, studying my face. “Why are you sad?”

  “He hates me.” My jaw tightens. “Maybe he’s right to.”

  I brush past him toward the van, climbing into the front seat away from the rest of them. The twenty-something driver, now nothing more than a zombie, stares straight ahead. I suddenly hate this man. He gets to forget tonight. He gets to return to his pretty girlfriend, his small apartment he loathes, and his dreams of selling his screenplay or whatever. In this moment I envy him down to my marrow. I envy his normalcy. Oliver was right. I was never going to be normal. Those weren’t the cards I was dealt. My hand was aces and eights. The dead man’s hand. Time to play.

  The nerves finally hit the vamps on the fifteen minute ride to the bar. If Connor’s any indication they’d be literally pooping their pants if their digestive system worked like that. He’s more excited than nervous though. I listen as they talk through our assault plan again. Connor actually had a blueprint of the lounge and building next door. The bar’s website said it was closed tonight for repairs so crowds shouldn’t be an issue. After disabling the security system, a program Connor already had like the blueprints, three will enter from the back and the rest of us in from the front. We take anyone inside hostage and if Antonia isn’t there, we have someone text her. Torture them if they don’t comply. She comes, end game. We talked through every contingency like if she comes with multiple vamp guards or if she’s in her fortress next door to the club. “I’ve destroyed her doors, I can do it again,” I told them.