Storm of Sin

by Patricia D. Eddy

  I can’t breathe, and my heartbeat roars in my ears. I need to sit down. No. I need— “Sin!”

  He’s at my side faster than I think should be possible, and he and Kunchin each take one of my arms to help me to my desk. “Zoe, what is it?” Sin asks.

  “I’m not human…”

  Twenty-Three

  Zoe

  “Talk to me, Zoe,” Sin says as he takes my hands in his and searches my face. “What is wrong?”

  “His…his per-perception f-filter. It d-doesn’t work on m-me.” The words don’t want to come. Or maybe I don’t want to believe them. ”I’m n-not…not…”

  Kunchin rests his hand—paw?—on my shoulder, then shows Sin the black box. “Bureau-issued perception generator. Hides this,” he gestures to himself, “from human eyes.”

  “I know what it is,” Sin snaps. “The shifters and the Fae carry them as well. What does this have to do with why Zoe is so upset?”

  “It didn’t work on her.”

  “And you are certain it is not broken?”

  I hand Sin my phone with Kunchin’s picture on it, and he glances up at the yeti. Swiping to the camera app, he takes a second photo, then frowns. “Leave us, please.”

  “Zoe?” Kunchin crouches down so we’re eye-level. “That okay with you?”

  Sin growls, but I shoot him a look that could kill—if he weren’t immortal—and then return my attention to Kunchin. ”It’s fine. Just…don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

  Making the universal gesture for locking his lips and throwing away the key, the yeti lumbers back to the break room for his coffee.

  “What am I?” I whisper. “Nothing makes sense anymore, Sin. My life… Who—or what—I am.” Yet again, the sensation of being trapped inside my own body consumes me. I can’t breathe. I’m frozen. But I can see Sin, his face drawn in worry, and then I’m back with him, in the Bureau’s bullpen, and I stifle a sob.

  “I would much rather discuss this somewhere I know we will be safe. Will you come home with me?” Sin asks.

  “In a little over twenty-four hours, another woman is going to be taken. We have to figure out which clubs to stake out, keep working on the victim profile, try to find the other two men Thorn has…” If we keep busy maybe I can ignore what just happened for another few days. Maybe I can keep pretending I’m human until this case is solved and then I can fall apart. Because that’s all I want to do. Fall apart and reexamine my entire life to see if I should have known.

  Sin stands, pulling me up with him. “We can continue to work. I have plenty of equipment for both of us and an encrypted connection to the Bureau’s databases. Trust me, Zoe. I want to solve this case more than you could ever understand. But there is one thing I want even more.”

  I tip my head back, meeting his deep blue eyes. The emotion in them makes me want to step away—or throw myself at him. Both options seem equally appealing. “What?”

  “You. I want to help you understand what you are—who you are—so that perhaps one day, you will accept what I feel for you.”

  Sin

  Zoe has not said a word since we left the Bureau. At least she had already agreed to stay with me, and we’d stopped at her apartment after lunch for her to pack a few of her things.

  As soon as we arrive at my home, however, she excuses herself to the guest room, and moments later, I hear a single sob before there is only silence.

  Fuck. Human emotions are not one of my strengths. To give myself time to think, I call the building’s concierge and instruct him to have a pizza delivered within the hour, then open a bottle of red wine, pour two glasses, and set them in the living room where we can look out over the whole city. I need to be able to see the sky.

  “Zoe?” I call. “I am having food delivered. Will you join me so we can talk about what happened earlier?”

  She stands in the door, stock still, a tear glistening on her cheek. Even upset, exhausted, with bruises darkening on her neck from Velma’s attack, and bags under her eyes, she is beautiful. “Do you have any answers?”

  “I have…theories. Some of which you may not want to hear.” I offer my hand, prepared to scoop her up in my arms and hold her until she hears me out, but, resigned, she places her delicate fingers in mine and lets me lead her into the living room.

  “You really do have more money than you could ever spend, don’t you?” Zoe muses as she curls up in one corner of the couch and stares out over the city.

  “An advantage of being as old as I am. Investing in a few key technology companies at their inception has proven very lucrative. I also own a successful human nightclub in the Mission District. Prior to meeting you, I would often find a willing donor there when I needed a meal.”

  “Prior?” Her voice holds a hint of uncertainty that I very much dislike. As if I could ever feed from another again.

  Picking up the wine that probably cost more than two months’ Bureau salary, I take a healthy sip. She is not ready to hear my declaration of…what? Love? Lust? Devotion? Even I am not certain. I do not think she is ready to hear any of what I have to say, but now that my memories are starting to return, I cannot keep this secret any longer. “You are a mystery to me, Zoe. I have been around others all my life, and you…make no sense. There is something so very familiar about you, yet until this morning, I could not put my finger on it. You are an unknown.”

  “Great. I’m cafeteria mystery meat.” She gulps down half the wine before her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. “Shit. This is expensive.”

  After a wave of my hand, I drain my glass. “I have more. If you want to get drunk, it might as well be on something of quality.”

  Satisfied, she drinks it down, and I pour us both a second.

  Shame is a powerful emotion, but I push it aside for her. “When I first saw you at the crime scene, I was quite rude to you.”

  “Understatement of the year,” she mutters.

  “Perhaps. But I had my reasons. I did not understand what they were at the time. I do now.”

  For too long, I stay silent, until Zoe nudges my shoulder. “I’m waiting, Sin.”

  “I had so few memories of my time as Thorn's prisoner,” I say softly. “I did not even know how I managed to break free and take him and Regina to Hell. Not until today.” There are only inches between us, and I reach out to brush a knuckle along her cheekbone. “One of Thorn's last victims looked very much like you. The same eyes. The same spark of curiosity. The same biting wit.”

  “I don’t understand,” Zoe says. “Are you saying someone in my family—six hundred years ago—was Thorn's victim?”

  “I do not know. She may simply have the same other-ness that you carry. Her name…she was called Genevieve. I did not help Regina capture her. You see, Genevieve was hunting Thorn on her own. She intended to be taken, to let herself be tortured and brutalized so she could find a way to end him.”

  “But none of the women ever escaped,” Zoe says, shaking her head. “Why did this Genevieve think she could do it?”

  “She believed she was immune to Thorn's mind control. Regina captured her, but the others who fell victim to the Fae’s spell would remain almost catatonic for hours. Sometimes even a day after Thorn caged them. This gave him ample time to invade their thoughts, to discover their greatest fears. Genevieve recovered only minutes after being locked in her cage. I was on guard duty, and she offered herself to me.”

  Zoe’s horrified expression grips my heart in a vise, and I rush to continue. “Not for sex. She offered to feed me so I would have the strength to help her.”

  Relief smoothes the lines around her eyes and lips. “And…did you?”

  “It took much convincing. Too much. But yes. I fed off her energy—freely given—and I started to fight back. I wanted to free Genevieve that moment, but she refused my aid. ‘There is only one way out for me,’ she said. ‘I must end him once and for all.’”

  The doorbell chimes, and I curse under my breath. Zoe needs food, but I do not want to
be disturbed. Not now. With every word of my tale, I fear I will lose my resolve. With every interruption, that I will not have the strength to continue. “Stay hidden,” I say sharply. “I would prefer no one—not even those I trust most—know you are here.”

  She nods, and a few minutes later, I return with the box of pizza and another bottle of wine.

  “I’m not hungry,” Zoe says, but I place two slices in front of her anyway before I take a seat, closer to her this time. I need her like I need my next breath, and I do not know how to tell her.

  “You must keep up your strength. Eat something at least.”

  “Keep talking.” She picks at a slice of pepperoni, pinning me with her unwavering emerald stare. “Or I eat nothing.”

  Genevieve’s heart-shaped face, obscured for so many centuries, is now a permanent fixture in my mind. So similar to Zoe, yet the woman in front of me has a depth, an energy, and a spirit all her own. “Genevieve convinced me to help her. To give her as much information as I could about Thorn. About how he broke the others.”

  With a shudder, Zoe sets down the plate, and I arch a brow but continue anyway. “For two days, Genevieve endured Thorn's torture, and when I tended to her, to heal her enough for him to start anew the next day, she asked me question after question. She brought me back, Zoe. From a place where every second was endless agony, darkness, and despair. And yet, I could not do the same for her.”

  “What happened to her?” Scooting closer to me, so close our thighs press together, Zoe links our fingers, and her touch gives me the strength to continue.

  “Thorn kept the women separated most of the time. He thought it would amplify their fear. They could hear one another’s screams, but were only rarely in the same room. He occupied a network of tunnels that once served as a water system for Florence. The cisterns were perhaps ten meters apart. We…were not careful. I spoke too loudly, and Thorn—or Regina—I do not know which—heard us.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “An appropriate response.” Leaning my head against the back of the sofa, I stare up at the ornately carved ceiling rails and the light fixture I restored to its original beauty when I bought this building. “Thorn knew Genevieve had a form of magic within her, but he did not know what it was. She told me she had been blessed with a gift. One that would allow her to bind her consciousness to his and destroy him.”

  “And could she?”

  I shake my head. “We never had the chance to find out. Thorn killed her in front of me. I was powerless to stop him, and after I cradled her dead body in my arms, he forced me to massacre all of the other women, then the men. He planned to start anew in another place. And he had chosen me to accompany him.”

  “He was going to keep you?”

  “I was too powerful a tool to waste,” I say quietly. “But Genevieve…the memory of cradling her in my arms as she took her last breath…it woke me up, if you will.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I only wish it had not taken me so long to build up enough strength to fight him. If I had been faster, some of his victims might have survived. But in the end…I broke free.

  “Thorn had never seen the part of me I keep hidden. My wings. My angelic talents. He did not know I had the power to visit Hell. All angels do,” I add when Zoe’s eyes widen. “I used my talents against him and Regina, stunned them so they could not fight back, and delivered them to Lucifer himself.”

  Zoe reaches over and brushes a tear from the corner of my eye. “I’m so sorry.”

  I press her fingers to my lips, then my cheek. “There is nothing that can change the past, my sweet Zoe. Only the future. You can help ensure Thorn's reign of terror ends here. I believe you may be descended from Genevieve’s line. If so, it is possible you can resist his control as she did.”

  “That still doesn’t answer the most important question, Sin.” Zoe hasn’t moved her hand away, and she leans closer so she can rest her head on my shoulder. “What am I?”

  Twenty-Four

  Zoe

  I feel almost normal nestled against Sin, the spicy aroma of pepperoni pizza mixing with the expensive wine and his own unique scent. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I do not know, my pearl.”

  “Pearl?” The idea that he’s given me a nickname—one that obviously means something to him—is enough to make me chuckle. Or at least smile.

  “An expression I picked up long ago. A pearl starts from a grain of sand inside its oyster.”

  “So, I’m an irritant. Something hard and foreign?” I should be angry, but the way he says the word…I like it.

  “You are an unknown. A surprise. A beautiful, beguiling puzzle. And I very much want to figure you out.” Sin leans forward, keeping me close, and retrieves our wine glasses. “Will you indulge me?”

  “In what? A drinking game?” After today, I wouldn’t say no to a couple of rounds of shots, but not even someone as rich as Sin would play a drinking game with wine this good.

  Sin chuckles. “No. Merely some questions about your past. And a test or two of your abilities.” He takes a sip of wine, then stares into his glass. “You mentioned your grandmother when we first met. Can you tell me about your parents?”

  “They…” I swallow hard. “I never knew them. They were in the army and they both died when I was eight. I don’t even remember them.”

  “And your grandmother raised you?” Sin plays with my hair, then starts to massage my scalp in the most delicious way. Sexy, but also comforting.

  “Uh-huh.” The wine must be going to my head, because it’s like I’m dreaming and awake at the same time. I’m here, sitting on Sin’s couch, staring out over the San Francisco skyline, but I’m also somewhere else, somewhere I can’t move, with a movie of my life playing out before me. “She always said I was her miracle.”

  “Why?” He brushes his lips to my ear, and I wish I could lose myself in him again. Like this morning—was it only this morning?—and forget about everything else. Thorn and Regina. Velma. Temple. All of it. “Zoe?”

  “She was all alone,” I say, the words hard to form now that he’s moved on to massaging my shoulders. The wine gone, the pizza mostly untouched, it’s just the two of us. Close enough it feels like we’re one soul. “Said I came to her—oh, yes, right there—when she was about to give up. ‘Like a gift from God,’ she said.”

  “Do you have any photos of her?” Sin asks.

  “On my phone.” Snuggling closer to him, I reach into my pocket, enter my passcode, and scroll through the couple of dozen pictures I’ve taken over the past year or so. Shit. I need to get out more. These are the only ones I have? I’m pretty sure Temple’s nieces take more photos in one day than I’ve taken since I got this phone. “Here. This is her.”

  After he eases the device from my hand, he stares at the older woman’s smiling face. She’s outside in a garden. Our garden from the little house in Novato with the apricot trees that bloomed every spring. I can feel Sin’s frown as he studies Nana’s photo. “Are you certain you were…related?”

  I jerk up to find him tapping the screen, emailing himself the picture. “Hey. That’s a shitty thing to say. Give me back my phone.”

  “Zoe, answer the question. It could be important.”

  “Nana was my father’s mother. I can’t…” Tears spring to my eyes and I blink hard to force them away. “She didn’t keep any pictures of him. I don’t remember him.”

  “Look at me, Zoe.” Sin sets my phone down and cups my cheeks. “Listen to my voice and focus on me.” His sapphire eyes darken, turning almost black, and my head starts to ache like a storm’s coming in. “Tell me you love me.”

  “What?” Shoving at his chest, I push him back hard enough he almost tumbles over the arm of the sofa, then get to my feet. “This was a mistake. Coming here. Shit. You just tried to use your talents on me. To make me say something you know I don’t feel. How could you?”

  He rolls to standing and moves so quickly, he’s between me and the door before I even register th
e motion. “I had to prove to you that you are other. I am very strong, Zoe. Perhaps one of the strongest incubi alive. My angelic parentage only enhances my power. And yet you, who believed you were human three hours ago, not only resisted me, but knew exactly what I was doing.”

  I can’t do this. I can’t…stand here listening to him with all of his logical excuses and rational explanations when my heart is beating half out of my chest. “Sin. I can’t do this. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. I don’t want to know what I am. I’m Zoe Dawes. Granddaughter of Seraphina Dawes. Human. Cop. And scared as fuck.”

  He calls my name as I race down the hall towards the guest room, and when I slam the door in his face, I know the anguish on his handsome features will haunt my dreams.

  Sin

  Seraphina. Her grandmother’s name is Seraphina? As in the Seraphim. Celestial beings tasked with doing the Almighty’s work. The most trusted. The most holy. And based on how she resisted me, Zoe’s grandmother was one of them?

  I pull out my tablet and examine the photo I took from her phone. Even the Almighty makes mistakes on occasion, and this is one of those times. Despite the photo’s time stamp being a solid fifteen years ago, the digital metadata—the underlying code that marks where and when the picture was taken—is mostly missing. And what is there…fuck.

  Two years ago. It was taken less than two years ago. When Thorn and Regina were mistakenly freed from Hell.

  Zoe—my Zoe—is a celestial being. Of what sort, I have no idea. Why does she not remember? Why give her a human history, human memories, a very human personality, and send her here?

  Tablet in hand, I stride for the guest room door, but just before I knock, I hear her crying. Everything inside me aches to comfort her, but her emotions hit me like a tidal wave. She is terrified of me. Of the moment we just shared. Of falling prey to my talents and losing herself.