Hand In Ash

by Zoe Parker

  Her mother is excited. It’s disturbing.

  “Hello, I’m Sora’s mother, Mrs. Suen, but you can call me Tammy.” He takes her limp hand in his and gives her knuckles a light peck, a customary greeting. When he tries to release her hand, she clings to his. “Has anyone ever told you that you resemble the Alpha Supreme?” Sora rolls her eyes. Her mom knows exactly who he is.

  “It’s been mentioned in passing,” he teases, but his eyes are cold as frost. Voss is smooth; she’ll give him that. Her mother is lapping at it like a kitten or an undersexed housewife. Sora cringes a little when Tammy’s smile turns flirty.

  “There are some people here who will love meeting you,” she exclaims, hooking her arm through his and dragging him towards a cluster of people near the buffet table. Voss gives her a dirty look before smiling again and turning his own charm on.

  “Better him than me.” Her and Devil look at each other and giggle. She doesn’t mind one bit that he’s the sacrificial lamb tonight.

  She came here for a specific reason, and it wasn’t to rub elbows with people who have too much self-importance. Plus, walking around with her mother will keep the people she’s looking for at bay. They’re looking for sin eater women on the outskirts, ones who look alone, unwanted. Potentially even ones that don’t want to be missed. To play the part, she situates herself in a corner at the fringes of the gathering and slouches her shoulders. Adopting an anxious expression is easier than she thought it would be because it’s mostly real.

  A long, boring hour passes without a single bite, and she’s about ready to throw in the towel when a young man with light blonde hair and a big smile approaches her. She studies everything about him. The way his shoes are shined and meant to look expensive, but aren’t. There are hidden scuff marks on the heels. The slight wear on the elbows of his suit jacket and crooked crease in the seam of his slacks demonstrates no mother-hen fussed over him dressing for the ball.

  The white shirt he’s wearing is a little too tight, and there are sweat stains beneath the collar. His tie, although modern fashion, is obviously a clip-on, a big no-no at society functions. The biggest giveaway is the hair on his neck that he missed shaving.

  This is her guy.

  “Hello,” he greets warmly, tucking himself beside her in the corner without invitation. “I couldn’t help but notice you standing here alone, looking so lovely. I thought you wouldn’t mind some company in your excellent hiding spot.” Sora gives him a nervous smile. “My name is Francis, and you are?”

  “Sora. Nice to meet you.” She holds her hand out and keeps a smile on her face as he grasps it in his limp, sweaty hand and drops a wet kiss on her knuckles. When he releases her, she subtly wipes her knuckles on the backside of her dress.

  “These things are a trial, aren’t they? I can’t blame you for hiding over here. If not for my mother, I would probably have beaten you to this corner,” he jokes, poorly. Ninety nine percent of sin eaters can’t feel lies, not even a tingle. As she was growing up, her ability to know when people were lying to her, was more a bane than a gift. Now, it’s a skill she counts on.

  Mother, my ass.

  “I’m not very good with them either.” Not a lie.

  They spend the next exhausting hour exchanging small talk and are at the point that Sora is starting to doubt her intuition when he finally mentions his friends.

  “I have friends who would love to meet you. They’re like us, don’t care much for these types of things. Some even think they should be abolished entirely.” And there’s the first hint. His eyes land on Voss, who is touring around the ballroom with her ecstatic mother. “Are you aware of who your date is?”

  She has to be careful here. She planned for this, bringing Voss for more than one reason.

  “Yes, I work as one of his many secretaries as a side job until I can get into a good church. Although I’m rather low on the food chain, he stopped and spoke with me and asked if I was coming here.” She clears her throat as if talking about Voss makes her nervous. “When I said yes, he invited himself.”

  “Did he threaten to fire you if you said no?” Francis asks seriously.

  “Actually, he did. How did you know?” she asks, eyes wide.

  “Beasts like him always intimidate to get their way.” He chuckles at his own bad joke and Sora titters along with it. Devil, who’s silently hovered beside her this entire time, chokes on his wine and turns away to hide his laughter.

  “He must think himself superior to you. A sin eater with no church has no protection, and these animals know it. I’m guessing that he only found out what you are because he’s in charge?” She nods and waits for him to continue. He’s building up to something, and all she has to do is keep playing along until he gets there.

  “We shouldn’t have to rely on a church to protect us.” He turns to face her fully. “I know some people who want to change things. Make this world a better place for those like us. Is that something you might be interested in?” he asks earnestly.

  For a young, unattached sin eater who has self-esteem issues and is semi-ostracized in her own society, his words would instantly draw them in. No wonder they troll these places successfully.

  “Is it like a club?” she asks with a hopeful smile.

  He laughs. “You could say that. We have a meeting place where you can come and hear all about our small, peaceful movement. If you decide to join, you can help print flyers and go to gatherings to help spread the word and get more people to stand by our cause. Working together, we can change the world one person at a time.” It’s a great speech, entreating and encouraging kinship. It’s also all a load of shit.

  “That actually sounds like fun. What do I need to do?” He pulls a card out of his inside pocket and presses it into her hand.

  “The password is ‘righteous.’ You give the doorman this card and that password, and he’ll stamp a secret rune on you. I look forward to seeing you there.” There’s impatience to his tone. He’s ready to move on.

  “Thank you so much, Francis, for the chance to be part of something so great.”

  The charm he was pushing at her is gone. Now that the fat fish is on the hook, he doesn’t need to pretend any longer. “My mother is waving at me, so I must go. I hope to see you soon.” And he walks away to his fictitious mother, leaving her with a belly full of anger.

  “How do people not notice the missing sin eaters?” she asks Devil quietly.

  “Emails, phone calls, fake marriages–who knows. Whatever it is keeps the gossip down.” Sora watches the crowd with sharp eyes and sees Francis approach another timid looking sin eater girl on the fringes of the crowd.

  Taking photos isn’t uncommon at gatherings; most of the people here are vain and post them everywhere. Sora holds her phone up and snaps a clear photo of Francis’s face. She texts it to Voss.

  “So, they convince them to go to the club, then at some point during that first night, they go missing. If we can get ahold of this lot of assholes, like we plan on doing, then we can potentially find out where they’re keeping those women.” That’s the plan, anyway.

  “We also have to be sure they’re keeping them against their will. If they’re complacent, it complicates things,” Devil muses, making a good point.

  Voss and her mom finally work their way back over to them, probably at Voss’s urging. While they’re standing as a group and her mother is chatting about how much money a man like Voss probably has invested, he looks at Devil.

  He knows it’s time for them to make their exit, and the glint of mischief in his eyes speaks to his intentions of making it a grand one. “Thank you for the dicks, Devil.” Sora coughs, trying to hide her laugh at the look of horror on her mom’s face.

  When several people standing nearby give them equally horror-filled looks, Devil says, “What? Can’t a man thank another man for giving him dicks?”

  “Thank you for bringing me mom, but I think it’s time for us to go.” Voss’s comment has started a chain o
f potential embarrassment for her mother and presented them with a perfect chance to leave without her putting up a stink.

  Sora grabs his arm and pulls him towards the door.

  “You abandoned me to that woman,” Voss accuses once they’re out of earshot.

  “Yep, and I’ll do it again if given a chance. With you as entertainment, she left me the fuck alone.” Other than the encounter with Francis, it was the best ball she’s ever gone to.

  “That’s dirty,” he complains.

  “No, it’s clever. Let’s go wait for this asshole to come out so we can follow him.” She drags him past the smiling shifter valet to the parking lot where the lower-class members park. If Francis drove, this is where he’ll be parked.

  “Did he give you the password?” She nods, and they hide on the other side of a large van. “I can send in one of ours to investigate so you don’t have to take the risk.”

  “Nope. The password is for sin eaters, Voss. No shifter can pretend to be one. Unless you have another sin eater in your pocket, I’m it.” She doubts he does but waits for him to respond.

  “I don’t even have the one I want in my pocket.” He gives her a look, and she shrugs. “Do you think this guy will even lead us to anything?”

  “He’ll lead us to their little group of recruiters, and when he does, we need to capture them all together. If one escapes, then the gig is up, and they’ll know we’re onto their operation.”

  “You’re talking like you’ve done this a time or two when I know better,” he comments.

  “I read a lot,” she says distractedly, watching the door for Francis’s familiar face.

  “I have people in the parking lot, the party staff, and spread out all over the next two blocks either direction. He won’t get away from us.” That’s reassuring to her. He thought this out well, covering the spots she left blank.

  “When we get there, I’m going in with you.” She wants to see this group of recruiters/kidnappers up close and personal. Plus, he’ll need her whether he realizes it or not yet.

  “In that?” he says, eyeing her tight dress.

  “I’m going to change in the car while we’re driving, and you’re going to keep your eyeballs to yourself,” she whispers fiercely.

  “And if I don’t?” he taunts.

  “I’ll melt your eyeballs,” she mock threatens.

  “Not that I’m not totally enthralled with your passive-aggressive flirting, but your boy just left the building,” Devil says, giving Sora a smug look.

  “Shitshitshit.” He left sooner than she expected. She pokes Voss and points at Francis, walking jauntily through the parking lot like he didn’t just manipulate women into complacently showing up to be kidnapped. He’s even whistling quietly like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “What a piece of shit,” she mumbles.

  Voss gives her an amused look before silently taking off after him.

  “He moves like a man who’s climbed out of a married woman’s window a time or two.” She gives Devil a dirty look. “What? It happens.”

  She takes off her heels and jogs through the parking lot barefoot to the line of valet parked cars. Unlocking her car, she grabs her fanny pack–a surprisingly useful item–that Devil makes fun of–and tosses her heels in the car. She puts on the sneakers she stashed in the backseat and grabbing both sides of the slit of her dress, tears it all the way up to her hips.

  Devil is giving her a look of surprise, so she says, “I don’t have time to change, but running in heels isn’t happening. I’ll break my ankle.”

  “Or your neck.”

  “Or your neck,” she argues.

  “I don’t have a neck,” he proclaims with a smile.

  “But you have eye sockets and sleep very deeply,” she threatens.

  Devil looks highly offended as he exclaims, “Do you know how hard it was to get that glue out? It took days!”

  “Shh! Come on, they’re leaving us behind. She takes off after Voss at a full run. Because she’s smart enough to stay in shape, she catches up to them relatively easily. When she comes up to his side, he gives her cold, panting ass a look before glancing at Devil, who has gone dark.

  Voss slips off his dress jacket and gives it to her, and she puts it on, refusing to admit it smells good or that she’s freezing.

  “He can do that?” he asks, indicating the lack of fire around Devil.

  “Like a lightbulb.” She lightly elbows him as she squeezes in beside him. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s joined up with several others who all left the party at the same time through different exits. That apartment building they’re entering is well known for only housing supernaturals.”

  “I’ve heard of it. They call it the ‘Pit,’ right?” He nods.

  “There’s a team already in the building. I sent them in ahead when I realized where they were going. They’re waiting on my confirmation to enter the dwelling and apprehend them.” He sounds so badass saying things that way. She reluctantly admires it.

  “Make sure they get them all. If we miss one it’ll make all of this pointless,” she cautions, watching the small group of sin eaters, who look more like college kids coming from a night out, than villains.

  “None of them will get away.” The seriousness of his tone makes her look at him. The expression on his face tells her that if they can’t capture them, they’ll kill them. She’s not wholly okay with it, because she doesn’t know if all of them are guilty or victims themselves, but she understands that it has to happen this way.

  They’re as likely to be horrible people as good ones.

  The outside door closes behind them, and after waiting a few moments, Voss gives the go-ahead.

  Then all hell breaks loose.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sora takes off at a flat run, intending to get inside the building before Voss can stop her. The door flings open, and Francis, with the stench of fear thick in the air around him, about runs her over in his haste to get away. Turning on her heel, she chases after him, but he’s running on pure adrenaline, and she’s already burned a lot of energy.

  Pulling a knife out of the fanny pack, she slows down enough to steady her aim and throws it at his legs. It sinks hilt deep into his calf, and with a scream of agony, he falls over sliding to a stop. When she gets to him, he’s already halfway to his feet and takes a wild swing at her with his Hand of Power.

  She ducks and brings hers up to meet him. When their skin touches, both of them gasp. Him from her power flooding and snuffing his out, and her from the sins she can see he’s committed. Francis is not one of the innocent ones.

  Angry for what he’s done, would continue to do if he remains free, she grits her teeth and pulls on that special thing that only female sin eaters are capable of. Rare ones. Holding his gaze and his arm in her grasp, she leans close to him, her foot resting on his hip.

  “You’re guilty, Francis, and for that, I’m taking the weapon you use to hurt people.” The whites of his eyes show as he lets out a guttural scream. She lets her magic fully out, greedily pulling at his until the runes on his arm dim and fade almost to the point of absence. The inner light of magic inside of him snuffs out completely, and with a look of shock on his face, he slumps over, unconscious.

  Sora straightens and turns to watch Voss stroll towards her. He stops at her side and gives Francis a look of repulsion before kicking him once, solidly, in the ribs. He then easily picks him up and slings him over his shoulder before walking back towards the apartment building. He’s completely shirtless, and the bunching of his muscles is one of the most hypnotizing things she’s ever watched.

  “Stare much?” Devil asks, coming out of the pool of darkness he hid in while she fought Francis. He let her fight her own battle, and she’s thankful for it. If he had interfered for no reason, she’d have gotten mad at him.

  “I’m not blind,” she protests, walking at a more leisurely pace.

  “They got them all. I could hear them talking.
Does Voss know he doesn’t have a choice about you being there for the questioning?” Devil is looking forward to them clashing again, the butthole.

  “He’s gonna learn quickly. I can read lies better than any charm in existence. He’s stupid if he leaves me out.”

  “I don’t see him being successful at it. When you’re determined, you’re like an out of control train running everyone over in your path.”

  “Thanks… I think.” He chuckles at her lack of surety.

  When they get to the car, Voss is waiting beside a nondescript van, that’s holding all their new prisoners. Her heart rate jumps up when she realizes that he waited for her instead of leaving her behind. She gives him a genuine smile and gets in her car and follows behind them.

  She’s led to a compound outside of the city, and when they’re nearly at the end of the long driveway, she sees his tower for the first time. “Why do powerful men always have a tower? Is it because they’re trying to project they’re really badass men, or that they lack in some areas?” she asks, leaning forward to get a better look at it.

  “Could be a bit of both; they always have some kind of major flaw.” Voss does so she can agree with that. Everyone does really.

  Once they’re parked, she follows quietly behind them. All the sin eaters are unconscious, whether they used knock-out charms or chemicals, she doesn’t know, but from the bruises on some of their faces, it could be neither. Others might have needed a little more persuasion.

  For the first time, she looks around her and realizes that they’re on a lower floor and going lower. “Devil,” she whispers. “I think they have a dungeon!”

  “Isn’t it a little weird that you’re excited about that?” he asks dryly.

  “Hey, I’ve led a very sheltered life.” There are many things she hasn’t experienced or saw.

  “That’s the fucking truth,” he mumbles.

  When they step into the large corridor that’s lined with two-way mirrors and modern metal doors, she sighs in disappointment. “This wasn’t what I was expecting at all.”