“What about a dragon?” The way he said it, I was sure he thought he’d stumped me, but he would have to try harder than that. If my imagination could conjure it, I could claim the shape.
“Of course, but if you were worried about me breaking your chair as a human, a dragon would break a whole lot more than that.”
“Not if you were a teacup dragon,” he said, biting on that delectable lower lip of his to hold back a giggle. “Something I could tuck into my pocket.”
“If you want me in your pants, sin-eater, all you have to do is ask,” I purred, reaching across the small table to drag a fingertip over the back of his hand.
He jerked his hand back like he’d been burned, choking on his pho, and I laughed. “It’s the pho… it’s spicy,” he claimed tightly. And while I’d seen just how much hot sauce he’d used, I had a feeling that wasn’t it at all.
I took pity on the poor guy and changed the subject. “Fair is fair,” I said, turning the tables on him. “How does your power work then?”
“I don’t know how it works, exactly, just that I can draw a person’s sins from their body into mine. I can sense people’s sins on them, a bit like walking into a restaurant and guessing what they have on the menu, but there’s no point in purging them when they’re still alive, since they’ll just sin again. I mean, it’s human nature, isn’t it? To want something, and to take it. And then once I take it into my body, I… digest it. It affords me a long life, and it leaves their soul pure so that they can pass through to the underworld, without risk of punishment for their misdeeds in life.” I would have to ask Lagamal’s opinion on this guy, scrubbing souls clean before he could condemn them.
“But what about your soul?” I asked, a hollow pit opening up inside me, churning with something akin to dread. “Where does that leave you when it comes time to leave this earth?”
He gave me a self-deprecating smile and another of those damn shrugs. “I don’t know the answer to that, but I’ll be sure to let you know once I cross over.”
An uncomfortable feeling settled inside me somewhere, dangerously close to my heart. It was almost like pity, but mixed with awe in all that he’d done for others. We stared at each other for a long moment, and that pit in my chest yawned wider, deeper, begging to be filled with something.
So what did I do? I panicked. Clenching my jaw, I sneered, “That almost sounds selfless… if only you didn’t benefit from it. Living forever? People have sold their souls for less.” I arched my brow, letting my earlier mistrust of the sin-eater rise up in me, but as his face fell, I hated myself for what I’d said.
Just like that, the fragile truce we’d begun to build came tumbling down.
His gaze dropped down to the table, and he seemed to shrink right before my eyes. “Right. What a great deal,” he said, his voice flat. He shoved back from the table, his fists bunched, his food barely touched.
“Hey, I didn’t mean…” I reached for him, but what was I going to do? Hug him? I let my hand drop. I sighed. “I’m sorry. Please stay and finish your meal.”
“I’m not hungry. I had a big lunch, remember?” He refused to look at me as he stomped off, mumbling about taking that bath.
I heard a door slam down the hall. “I’ll just sleep on the couch then?” I called after him, but he didn’t answer. Should I leave? He hadn’t asked me to, and I couldn’t ignore the connection I felt with him. I truly believed our paths had been meant to cross, whether it was Danu’s doing or fate’s.
“Fuck, you idjit,” I muttered to myself. “Learn to keep your big mouth shut.”
I cleaned up the kitchen, putting his leftover food in the fridge for later, then undressed down to my boxers, turned out the lights, and made myself as comfortable as I could on the too-short, too-narrow couch. My feet hung well over the end, but there was nothing to be done about it. I’d slept on worse. I pulled a brown-and-orange crocheted blanket off the back and folded it to tuck under my head, listening to the traffic outside, the murmured voices of a neighbor through walls that were far too thin. Then I listened to the sin-eater take a bath and wondered if there were bubbles.
Fuck. It’s going to be a long night.
The room was nearly pitch black when I woke up, just a faint glow from the streetlight outside peeking through the curtains. I blinked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what woke me. And then I heard it.
A whimper.
I froze, listening. It was followed by a low, frightened whine and a quiet voice saying, “No, please…” muffled behind a closed door. The sin-eater was having a nightmare.
I lay there, trying to get back to sleep. I told myself I didn’t care, that his dreams were his own business, but as the pitch crested higher, his voice pleading for help, a sense of urgency tore into me. This wasn’t just a dream—it was a night terror.
“Stop!” he screamed with such desperation, the hair on my arms lifted.
And then before making any kind of conscious decision, I was on my feet, moving down the short hall. I set my palm flat on the door, mychest heaving as my heart raced. “Sin-eater?” I called through the door, but his shrieks continued. “I’m coming in,” I warned, then shoved open the door.
I could just make him out in the shadows, shirtless, writhing on the bed, sheets twisted around him arms and legs, like he’d been thrashing violently—trying to escape whatever had him trapped in his dreams.
Stepping over beside his bed, I hovered there, unsure how to help. His skin glistened with sweat, his face scrunched up as though in pain as he kicked at the air. “Hey, sin-eater, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” There was no sign that he’d heard me, so I knelt on the bed beside him and took his shoulders in my hands, giving him a little shake. “Wake up!” I shouted to be heard over his keening wail.
His eyes snapped open, but there was something wrong with them. Even in the dark, it was like staring into a soulless hell, even the whites had turned an infinite black. Shit, what was happening? At least he’d stopped screaming. Did this have anything to do with that black smoke I’d seen coming off him?
Was he somehow possessed now too?
He showed no sign of recognizing who I was. “Are you awake?” I asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He bared his teeth at me, and his arm snapped out, grabbing me by the throat, his fingers squeezing my trachea. I clawed his wrist, tried to peel him off, but he was too strong. What the fuck?
