Hand In Ash

by Zoe Parker

  She’s so accustomed to him in her life that she forgets that not everyone is used to seeing a magical talking skull. Most people are used to familiars or guardians, but they tend to be on the furry side. Then there’s Devil. She prefers him the way he is. Although a guinea pig with his psychotic attitude might be briefly entertaining.

  After the delivery guy leaves and the pizza is doled out, she finishes up the last tasks she needs to do for the day and decides it’s time to go home and start putting some serious effort into house hunting. With her bonuses and savings, she has enough to put a decent down payment on a house. The more she thinks about it, the more she wants to do it. The more it feels right.

  A home for her and Devil.

  One of her shifter shadows is waiting for her on the sidewalk. She shields her eyes from the evening sun and the large shiny car he’s standing next to. A Land Rover. Without a word, he holds up a set of keys and motions towards the car.

  “Shit, I forgot about this,” she mutters. Devil has a good chuckle at her discomfort. Her first instinct is to refuse it, but the wind blows and slides right through her jacket to give her skin goosebumps.

  “It has heated seats, Sora,” Devil whispers.

  She digs her phone out of her pocket and texts Voss. What if I say no?

  His answer is immediate. I’ll continue to send them until you accept.

  She sends a final message. This doesn’t mean anything. I’m only borrowing it until I can buy my own.

  She tucks her phone back in her pocket and snags the keys from the shifter’s hand with a quiet thanks. Pushing the button to unlock it, she climbs inside swamped with the smell of a new car. The seats are black leather, and there are screens and buttons that she explores for several minutes.

  When she figures out the radio and finds a station she likes, she accepts that for now, she’ll use this car. This is a hundred times better than riding the bus and gives her more leeway for time. At least, that’s what she’ll keep telling herself to keep away any bad feelings about temporarily accepting it.

  “Do you want to get a pool when we get a house?” she asks Devil, once she’s buckled her seatbelt. She turns the seat warmer on and lets it work magic while the car warms up. Now that she is sitting in the car, the idea of giving it back is less appealing. That doesn’t mean she won’t one day, but it does mean she’ll enjoy it while she has it.

  It’s a really nice car and fancier than anything she’ll be able to afford. The heated seats are a definite perk.

  When Devil still doesn’t answer her, she looks over at him, and he’s looking out the window with a frown on his face. “What?” she prompts.

  He turns to her with his trademark smirk, and any traces of his deep thoughts are gone. “I was thinking of the keg parties we can have in our own house.” She highly doubts that’s what he was thinking about but rolls with it.

  “Nope.” She puts the car in drive and slowly pulls out into the street.

  “God, you drive like a grandma.” She starts to look at him and then stops. Both of her hands are on the wheel, and she’s driving five miles under the speed limit, so she can’t deny it.

  “Hey! I’m out of practice. The last thing in the world I want to do is put a dent in it the first day I have it. Can you imagine the repair bill?” That’s not the entire reason. Driving does make her nervous. It’s why she took so long to get a car. That and the fact she was always broke living with Max.

  Cars aren’t cheap in the city.

  “If you hit someone at this speed, you won’t even scratch the paint,” he snarks. Smiling, she looks behind her for cars and, seeing none, hits the brakes. Devil flies into the windshield and bounces off with a hollow thunk back into the seat.

  “You could’ve just told me to fuck off,” he grumbles, righting himself.

  “That was way more fun.”

  Chapter Four

  Once back at the hotel, she was motioned to park the car in the VIP parking garage. She gladly accepted. It’s enclosed, heated, and there’s a nice elevator that takes her where she needs to go. Devil is beside her chattering about the accessories they need to get for the car, including a car seat. His reasoning is her driving and how many times he hit the dashboard during the drive home.

  Some of them were actually accidents.

  Her stay at home is brief. She takes a quick shower and attempts to fix herself up a little bit. Although she gives up on the makeup halfway through. How anyone has the patience to sit and do that for four hours, she’ll never understand, but to her, they deserve some kind of medal or something.

  Their own holiday even.

  Grabbing her pack, she promises Devil a steak at the bar to shut up his bitching about food and heads to Fun Fangs. Today is her first formal sin eating session, and despite the fact she’s done this most of her life, she’s a little nervous. This will be an ongoing thing as long as she doesn’t blow it, a necessary thing for her survival.

  The sins themselves aren’t an issue. Devil is with her now, so unless she chooses to keep something, he’ll siphon off the horrible stuff, and she’ll be able to sleep tonight peacefully. Or mostly so. Her dreams have turned bad in the last week. She keeps telling herself she’s going to talk with them about Devil, but then she gets busy, and the next thing she knows, it’s another day.

  No time like the present. She’s still sitting in the car outside the bar, watching the long line of people mingle outside of the bar. It’s going to be an interesting night.

  “Devil, I’m having a lot of bad dreams,” she blurts out.

  “I know you haven’t slept restfully for over a week. Ready to tell me what they’re about?” She chews on her lip, contemplating the growing line of people.

  “Fire, everywhere. Dark fire, like the color my magic turned at the coffee shop.” The memories of the dream spin through her mind, and she shivers. “There’s this figure… a man, and he’s holding onto me while the fire burns him… well, doesn’t really burn him but it does make him glow,” she bites her lip, “he’s the only one not getting burned. The fire is burning all of them… the people and, Devil–” She moves her tongue around in her suddenly dry mouth. “The fire is coming from me.”

  He stares at her before giving her a soft smile full of acceptance and comfort. “Sora, are you feeling guilty for a dream?” She shrugs. “Quit that. It’s a dream, or in your case a nightmare. It’s probably just your brain trying to deal with all the bullshit you’ve had tossed at you. Don’t let it get to you too much. We’ll stop on the way home and get you a sleep charm so you can get some solid rest, okay?” She nods, breathing a little easier as she lets that small kernel of guilt go. Why she was feeling guilt over a dream, she doesn’t know, but watching all those people burn stuck with her.

  He looks at the long line of shifters and then back at her. “Are you still wearing that charm that Eddie gave you?” She nods and touches it where it rests under her shirt around her neck. Since the foolish encounter at the coffee shop, she never leaves home without it.

  “Are you worried about something?” she asks. Devil has a nose for trouble and sometimes knows it’s coming.

  “No, I wouldn’t say that.” His lips purse. “Have you ever considered the charm that Max used to wear? The one that smelled like sweaty socks?” Frowning, she watches him to see if he’ll give her more information. The only piece of jewelry that Max wore that wasn’t gold was an old thong necklace he said his mom gave him.

  She wasn’t aware that it was a charm.

  “He only stopped wearing it the last six months or so of your relationship. I’m guessing that it wore out. I’ve often wondered if it was a subterfuge charm or one for manipulation.”

  “What would he need that for? As far as I know, everyone liked Max.” She frowns harder. “Wait, that’s not true. Since we split, I’ve learned that a lot of people didn’t like him. Devil… what are you insinuating?”

  He smiles and jerks his head towards the line of shifters. “Nothi
ng important. It looks like they’re getting restless. It’s showtime.” Deciding to let it go, for now, she climbs out of the car and waits for Devil to float past her before shutting and locking the doors. It chirps when she activates the car alarm, and the simple sound makes her smile.

  It doesn’t distract her from Devil’s words.

  It sounded like he was saying Max had a charm that made people like him. It makes a strange kind of sense. He was constantly breaking the rules in the pack but didn’t get thrown out until he put his hands on Ashley, his soulmate. Plus, there were plenty of times that she should’ve gotten mad at him, no matter how her mental programming from her parents made her feel. There’s something to think about there and definitely ask Devil about again when they’re not busy, and he can’t distract her with responsibility.

  Because he fights dirty that way.

  She files it away for later and focuses on the task at hand. Several people greet her as she enters the bar, and awkwardly, she waves back, not really the best at social skills. George waves at her from the bar and motions her over to a table that’s away from the rest and loaded with drinks and snacks.

  It’s incredibly sweet of him, and she half hugs him to thank him for his thoughtfulness. She’s known George for most of the last ten years and has spent enough time with him to be comfortable. It took Max leaving to realize how well she knew George, and part of her wishes her attraction was to him instead of Voss. If it even had to be a shifter. George would be good to his significant other while Voss… he will just be what he already is.

  “I didn’t expect there to be this many,” she comments, still a little nervous.

  “Expect this every single time. The shifter community is vast and excited to have our own sin eater in the ranks. You’re the popular kid now, Sora,” he teases, pulling her chair out for her.

  With a smile at him, she takes off her jacket and sits in the chair, getting comfortable for the next few hours. She’s going to be doing this multiple times a week, the least she can do is get comfortable in the role. It makes things easier for both sides.

  Devil situates himself close to her, his eyes alert despite the lazy smile on his face. He’s taking the threat to her seriously and has increased his vigilance since. He’s becoming a regular mother hen about it.

  Honestly, she kind of likes it.

  “Are you ready to begin?” Thinking of the shifters standing outside in the cold, she nods. She won’t rush anyone, that’s just rude, but she doesn’t like the idea of delaying things because of a little anxiety. That’s not fair to the people who traveled here and waited so long.

  “Yes.” She lightly grabs his arm when he starts to walk away. “Voss shared the few rules I have, right?” George smiles kindly and nods.

  “You’re protected here. If you’re uncomfortable or if anyone is giving you trouble, they will be removed and, by Voss’s orders, punished.” He says it so seriously that she gets the feeling there was more to that conversation than he’s saying, but she lets it drop. It’s probably some alpha male drivel about heads rolling and some chest-thumping. That sounds like something Voss does with a bit more eloquence than in her imagination.

  Maybe. She can totally picture him ripping his shirt and titty-thumping.

  She bites her lip to keep from laughing as the first shifter hesitantly approaches her. The last thing in the world she wants is for them to think she’s laughing at them. Seeing the haunted look in the pale, thin woman’s eyes, her anxiety vanishes, and Sora’s lips automatically form into a genuine smile of welcome.

  “Hello, my name is Sora,” she greets and holds her hand out to shake. There’s more than one way to take sin, and they don’t always have to know she takes it. The woman clings to her hand as she sits in the chair across from Sora.

  Sora can tell that once upon a time, this woman was happy and beautiful. There are laugh lines around her mouth and eyes, signs of age, and happiness. But something tore her down. Something took the vibrancy and left her a shell of her former self. Sora is guessing it’s whatever put shadows in her eyes.

  Her magic flickers awake, and when she gets the glimpses of the reasons for the woman’s presence here today, she smiles once again. It’s a gentle smile that’s from the big moosh heart she tries and fails to hide. Yes, this woman, Clara, did indeed do something bad, but it was for the right reasons. Some people will say doing something bad for any reason isn’t acceptable. Sora doesn’t wholly agree with that.

  “Hello, Clara,” Sora greets, ignoring the chill of the woman’s fingers as she gently draws the sins into her.

  She stole from her mother-in-law. An heirloom that belonged to some ancestor that no one actually liked, a dagger. Until she took it, all it was doing was holding up dust bunnies in the back of a closet. Her reasons were to feed her children because her mate is dead, and her mother-in-law is a bitch.

  Good enough reasons for Sora.

  As she holds Clara’s gaze, she watches the shadows lighten and then completely fade. “Sleep in peace. Your sins are taken,” she whispers to Clara and finally releases her hand. For the first time in the few minutes that she’s stood before her, Clara straightens her shoulders and stands tall. Color blooms in her cheeks, and hesitantly, she smiles. This is a good sign that what she’s doing is for more than survival.

  Most people aren’t like Clara, but those few are enough to get Sora through the next several hours. By the end of it, she’s already drunk two pitchers of soda and eaten three bowls of peanuts. Her stomach isn’t happy with her and loudly demands real food.

  Some of the sins she took today were bad, not the worst she’s seen by a long shot, but they weren’t all desperate widows stealing to feed their children. Lots of accidental killers, thieving and lying. It’s enough to make her tired but not give up hope on the world. She likes this much better than the church.

  If one can truly ‘like’ taking the sins of others.

  “Eat real food already. You’re starting to look as depressed as some of those people you sent off,” Devil comments as a plate full of steak, a baked potato, and asparagus is shoved onto the table in front of her.

  “Thanks, Devil.” She mostly means it. Enough so that she digs into the food with gusto, uncaring of the few pieces of baked potato that fall off her fork. The need for food fuel is a real thing.

  “Don’t add twenty minutes to your workout in the morning, either.” She makes a face at him but keeps eating. She probably will anyhow, and he knows it. She makes good use of the indoor gym at the hotel. Something she’ll have to figure out when they get a house. Jogging isn’t an option now, not until it’s safer, but she still needs to stay in shape. Treadmills aren’t that expensive; she’ll look into one of those. She already has free weights.

  “You’re literally stuffing a buttery potato in your mouth and cataloging gym gear, I can feel it,” Devil says, pushing a small plate with a single piece of cheesecake on it to join the steak plate. “Makes you a bit of a health hypocrite,” he teases.

  “We all have our vices. Mine happens to be carbs, so shut up and eat the piece of cake you’re hiding behind your fat head.” He raises an eyebrow, his version of a shrug.

  “It’s scary how well you know me sometimes,” he says, taking the first bite out of the cake.

  “I could say the same,” she says, smiling. “Just like I know you ordered three steaks to go. Two of which you’ll eat before sunrise.”

  He looks at her and smirks. “You have asparagus in your teeth.” Her hand instantly raises to cover her mouth, and she rubs her tongue across her teeth, finding nothing she flips him off.

  “I planned on house hunting tonight, but I doubt I’ll stay awake long enough. Do you think we still have time to stop and get that charm?” she asks, food done. Leaning back in her chair, she gives her full stomach some room to breathe.

  “They keep late hours, so yeah.”

  Falling into silence, she looks around the crowded bar. A lot of the people she saw toda
y are gone, but some are still lingering, probably regulars. She’s getting a lot of looks, but none of them are hostile… except one. Sitting up suddenly, she bangs her elbow on the table, and before she can utter a single curse word, Ashley is standing beside her.

  “This is all your fault!” she says, sticking her finger near Sora’s face. It’s annoying, but Sora decides to try and be nice about things.

  “What are you speaking about specifically, Ashley?” she asks as calmly as possible. She doesn’t have any ill feelings toward the woman. Max treats her even worse than he did Sora, but she’s not overrun with sympathy either. In fact, she’s downright uncomfortable.

  “He’s locked up, and it’s all because of you!” Sora takes a calming breath and studies the upset shifter. Her makeup is smeared, and there are bruises under her eyes, maybe from Max and maybe from exhaustion. She’s skinnier than she was the first time Sora saw her, and her clothes are wrinkled and worn looking.

  Whatever is going on with her is taking a toll.

  The sympathy she didn’t feel seconds ago fills her. Damnit.

  “He’s locked up because he joined a bunch of serial killers in a cult. None of that is my fault,” Sora finally says, breaking the thick tension between them.

  “Because of you. All of it is because of you,” Ashley says, sounding defeated.

  “Are you hungry?” Sora asks instead of trying to defend herself or explain the situation any further.

  “What?” Ashley asks in surprise. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. You look as if you haven’t eaten for days. How about we talk while you have some food?”

  “Okay,” Ashley says, climbing into the chair opposite Sora.

  “Damnit, Sora,” Devil exclaims under his breath. She quickly glances at him and eyes the bar. Grumbling, he goes off to get Ashley some food.

  Leaning her elbows on the table, she watches Ashley, waiting for her to be ready to talk. It happens sooner than she expected.

  “This is all so fucked up. Meeting my soulmate should’ve been the best moment of my life… and it was for a few days. Then everything changed.” Ashley twiddles with a string on the elbow of her jean jacket.