There is only a small bit of sky visible through James Temple’s window, and I wonder how most inhabitants of this city do not go mad living in these tiny boxes with no way to see the sun. Then again, most of them did not spend two centuries in Hell where only Lucifer’s flames broke up the endless darkness.
I need fresh air, so I snap off the window lock and raise the sash. “I was young. For…what I am. A hundred and twenty-three earthen years. My brother had not even been born yet. This realm was full of people to feed from, and I was not as discerning back then.”
“So, you took from people without consent?” Zoe asks, a wary edge to her voice.
“No. Not that. Never that. Until…Thorn.” I force a deep breath, searching for a hint of the sea, but all I find is the stench of the dumpsters in the alley below. “I told you I was in Italy at the time. Florence. Besides the orange groves, one of my last clear memories is watching Michelangelo put the finishing touches on his David.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
“Indeed. He was a true genius.” I risk a glance over my shoulder, and her green eyes are wide, awe bringing a beauty to her features I never want her to lose. But she will, any moment now. Returning my gaze to the window, I run a hand through my hair, the memory of how I wore it back then—long enough to brush my shoulders—so at odds with the more modern cut I favor now. “There was much unrest in Florence then, but still, the people celebrated every chance they could. A crowd of drunken Italians provided ample opportunity to feed, and I was ravenous. I know I glamoured two women that evening, but left them both with their virtues intact, and happy memories of dancing in the streets with their friends.”
“You candothat? Change someone’s memories?” The stool rattles, but I do not turn to her.
“Yes.”
For several moments, neither of us speak. This is a mistake, but now that I have started, I cannot stop. “I was…drunk. On sexual energy and wine, and I cut through an alley on the way to my rooms. This is where my memories fade. But I remember Regina. Her voice. Her words. ‘You are a strong one, incubus. Come closer.’” Shaking my head, I brace my hands on the window sill. “I knew I should not listen, but her voice was like a siren’s song, pulling me closer, like a drug. So I went. She kissed me, and then my mind…it is like a thick fog obscured everything. I have vague memories of walking, of falling, of pain. When the haze lifted, I was underground in a cage so small, I could not stand.”
Zoe inhales sharply, and I continue. “They left me there for so long, I was out of my mind with hunger and thirst. No food or water. No energy I could sense anywhere around me to restore my strength. When Thorn—mio maestro,he ordered me to call him—entered the room, I tried to glamour him, but his mind is stronger than any other demon—any other creature—in all the known realms. And I...was too weak to move.”
I am no longer in San Francisco. My body and mind are trapped in Italy. Locked underground and at his mercy. “‘You will be my greatest weapon,’ he said as he dragged me out of the cage. ‘Your mind and body belong to me, and you will obey.’”
With a shudder, I bow my head, as I did back then.
“I tried to protest, but he called for two others. Men he had trapped and already broken. They chained me to a wall. Naked. My arms and legs spread wide. Once he started whipping me, the memories are so fragmented…” The scarred flesh of my arm throbs, and I dig my fingers into the old injury, needing the pain to keep me focused. “I know he used me to lure dozens of women. Regina brought in most of them, but the few who resisted her? All mages, for some of them had warded themselves against all other magical energy. They were no match for me. He would starve me before he allowed me out of the cage or the chains he kept me in, then force himself into my thoughts for hours until I was nothing but his puppet.”
“And after? After you…helpedhim capture his victims?” Zoe asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“I was the one who chained them so he could brand them. Who transported them to whatever location Thorn had chosen to allow others to come and torment his victims. I cleaned up their dead bodies when their minds broke entirely. And I am the one who failed to help so many who begged me to kill them.”
I slam my hand against the sill, cracking the wood, then whirl around. “Are you satisfied now, Zoe? Because I could go on about the parts I remember. How they screamed while being branded. How they sobbed as Thorn invaded their thoughts. Do you want to know how it felt? Because I can tell you that as well.”
Zoe strides over to me, shoulders thrown back, but her breath stutters in her chest. I expect anger. Horror. Disgust.
Instead, she wraps her arms around me. She’s shaking, and I know I am the cause, but still, she offers comfort? All I want to do is lose myself in her embrace, but I do not deserve this, and I pull away. “What was that?” I ask.
“My way of reminding you that you don’t have to solve this case alone.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and she blinks hard before she returns to the counter and slides her tablet into her bag. “We should get out of here. I’d much rather go through the SFPD report somewhere I don’t feel like Temple’s ghost is watching me.”
I arch a brow. “There are no ghosts here.”
“There are for me.”
Sixteen
Sin
The parking structure beneath this building is poorly lit, with too many blind corners for my liking. But Zoe believes Temple kept a storage unit in the far corner of this garage, and though she would prefer to be anywhere other than here, her sense of duty will not let her leave without seeing it.
“There is no mention of any storage unit on the SFPD inventory of his assets,” I say, following her as she weaves among rows of cars. “Are you certain about this?”
“No. But Temple was the kind of guy to have a...” she gestures vaguely with her hand, “bug-out bag.”
“A what?”
“A go bag. Money, a fake ID...secrets.” Zoe shrugs. “And if he had one, he’d want me to destroy it.”
I fail to see how this will help us, and after finding the orange blossom in Jacinda’s file cabinet, I worry Thorn and Regina know I am searching for them. True coincidences are far fewer than humans believe. If this was a warning, Zoe and I are both in danger.
“There are fifty storage lockers here, Zoe. We do not have time to break into every one of them.”
