The man inhaled sharply but seemed to absorb the information. “Okay, but… then why were you chasing me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“If you haven’t done anything wrong, then why were you running?” I countered. “You know who runs? Guilty people.”
“Or ones who feel threatened,” he said, baring his teeth in a sneer. “You should really work on your people skills. Next time, try introducing yourself first.”
I didn’t bother explaining that most people wouldn’t have noticed me there in the shadows. I was actually quite stealthy, under normal circumstances. I sighed. “Look, I’m working a case in coordination with the district attorney, tracking down information on a series of crimes with some… disturbing similarities. And you,” I said, narrowing my eyes on him, “smelled off to me. There was black smoke leaking out of you. What can I say, I was curious, so I followed you.”
“W-What?” He bit down on his lower lip, a true crime with lips like those. At the very least, it should’ve been me biting it. “Th-That’s not possible,” he stuttered.
“Look, why don’t we start small. What’s your name?” I asked, using the kind of voice used for children and skittish animals.
Frowning, he seemed to debate whether that would be admitting too much. He must’ve decided it was safe, because he finally said, “Ulysses Teresi. Uly, for short.” I gestured for him to continue, and like admitting some great secret, he added, “I’m a sin-eater.”
Interesting… I narrowed my eyes, scanning him head to toe. “It’s been a long time since I ran into one of your kind. I don’t remember them being so…”Hot, I thought. “…out of shape,” I said instead. “Your legs are wobbling.”
His face scrunched up, and I took great satisfaction in the angry blush that rose to his cheeks as he locked his wobbly knees and stood as straight as he could. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m normally in much better shape, but I just… had a large lunch.” His blush turned embarrassed and deepened further to a dusky rose that only enhanced his appeal.
“And was that the smoke I saw streaming out behind you?” I asked, catching what kind of meal he was implying. “Sin?”
He sighed, deflating, his eyes drifting off. “I guess. That’s never happened before.”
My interest pinged at that, and I followed my instincts; they’d never steered me wrong before. “Tell me, sin-eater, was there anything strange about thismeal?” I asked, fishing. “Anything else that stood out?”
He let out a little snort, crossing his arms over his chest. “How about all of it,” he muttered, and thankfully he elaborated without coaxing. “He was an elderly man, but he died violently. And when I purged his sin, it was…cloying, thick enough that I choked on it. And it tasted awful, like nothing I’d ever consumed before. Like, like tar.” He chewed on his thumbnail for a second, thinking. “And they paid in cash—a lot of it.”
“That’s odd?” I asked.
Uly shrugged. “There’s no set price for my services. I often get paid in return favors or possessions, like heirlooms or even food.”
“What was the man’s name?” I asked, mentally drawing up the list of perps and victims given to me by Lagamal.
“Samuel Lear,” he said, and I tried to hide my disappointment. Damn, not someone known to the case, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somehow involved.
The sin-eater shifted, his shoes scraping on grit. “So… can I leave then? I’ve told you anything I know.”
I glared at him. “No, you can’t leave. You’re still a suspect.”
“But—” he sputtered indignantly. “I answered your questions! I had nothing to do with any crimes.”
“Like I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” I had to admit, I was enjoying keeping my cool, while this little firecracker blew a fuse. Getting under his skin could easily become my new obsession.
Uly fisted his short hair in frustration. “I was just walking down the street, which I presume wasn’t the crime scene?” He pointed a finger at me, glaring. “You’re discriminating against me because of what I am!”
While I wanted to dispute the accusation, I had to admit it was a little hard to assume his innocence when sin was baked right into his DNA. So instead, I said, “How about you just agree to hang out with me for the evening. No handcuffs, I promise. We’ll take a look at some police reports and see if we can’t find out how your client died. And if everything is kosher, then you’re free to go.”
His lips thinned into a hard line, nostrils flaring with a huff. “Or I could just fight my way past you.”
“You could try…” I drawled, giving my cuffed wrist a hard tug, snapping the rusted run right off the ladder with a loud clang. He opened his mouth to keep arguing, but I cut him off. “If I wanted to hurt you, sin-eater, I would’ve done it already. I’ll even buy you dinner as an apology.”
Uly sighed, and I could see him thinking through his options, which admittedly weren’t great.
“Come on,” I coaxed gently, offering my hand. “Truce?”
He stared at my hand for a long moment, before finally nodding and reaching out to set his hand in mine, his palm cool and soft as silk, in contrast to my callused grip. “Truce… for now.”
Chapter 6
Ulysses
