Praise for the Grigori Legacy novels
“Extraordinary … Poitevin’s world-building is superb … It has everything I love in a novel—a fascinating mythology, plenty of twists and surprises, a tormented hero on a mission and a courageous heroine … I’m already looking forward to the sequel!”
—Christina Henry, author of Black Wings
“Strong storytelling and a pair of intriguing characters make this title a strong draw for urban fantasy readers.”
—Library Journal
“A dark urban fantasy novel like you haven’t read before. It is electric, thrilling and extremely intelligent. Linda Poitevin’s world building is rich and layered and her writing is excellent. A fantastic new series which will appeal to urban fantasy, paranormal romance and thriller fans!”
—Ex Libris
“Urban Fantasy deeply infused with a richly developed mythology, excellent world building, characters you’ll love, and villains you’ll love to hate.”
—The Qwillery
“Dramatic and wrenching.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“[Poitevin] is an engaging new talent.”
—RT Reviews
“Those who like a darker Urban Fantasy will eat this up.”
—Paranormal Haven
“This is a new series to watch.”
—Monsters and Critics
“A gritty thriller that will keep you on the edge of the seat and up all night!”
—Romancing the Dark Side
“Absolutely engrossing.”
—Fiction Vixen
“An epic battle story of good and evil with so many scrumptious twists and turns … Using scintillating character development and fast-paced action, Linda Poitevin has crafted an amazing series in the Grigori Legacy. If you’re a fan of paranormal romance of the supernatural variety, you should definitely read Sins of the Son!”
—Fresh Fiction
“It’s got sexual tension, angels, Lucifer, and amnesia. What more can a girl want? Oh! A kick ass storyline that keeps on moving even when your eyes try to close and go to sleep. Definite late night read!”
—Heroes and Heartbreakers
Also by Linda Poitevin
Sins of the Angels
Sins of the Son
Sins of the Lost
The Grigori Legacy
Linda Poitevin
INTERMIX
INTERMIX BOOKS
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
SINS OF THE LOST
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
InterMix eBook edition / October 2013
Copyright © 2013 by Linda Poitevin.
Excerpt from Sins of the Angels copyright © 2011 by Linda Poitevin.
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ISBN: 978-1-101-63526-1
INTERMIX
InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group
and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,
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INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC
Dear Reader,
When I began writing the first book in the Grigori Legacy series, I had no idea that I was starting a series—or even that I was writing an urban fantasy. Sins of the Angels, you see, was supposed to be a single-title paranormal romance. But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men … and, apparently, of writers.
As I was writing the first draft of the story, a chance conversation with a friend led me to do a little research, which led to a lot more research and a little more conversation, and so on. Before I knew it, what had begun as a relatively narrow idea had grown and evolved beyond anything I had ever expected. I had taken the rich mythology of angels, built an entire Heaven and Hell around them, and then, in Sins of the Son, brought them into conflict with our already fragile human world.
Now we find ourselves here, at book 3. Sins of the Lost is by far the darkest of the three novels, and if I’ve done my job as well as I hope, the most heart-wrenching. The war between Heaven and Hell is upon us, and the choices that have to be made—by Alex, by Seth, by Aramael … even by the One—are nothing short of awful. The consequences, equally so.
And where does that leave you, dear reader? About to embark on one hell of a ride, I hope, so hang on tight … and enjoy!
Warmly,
Linda
P.S. To find out more about the Grigori Legacy series, including some of the mythology used, be sure to visit my website at www.TheGrigoriLegacy.com
Contents
Praise
Also by Linda Poitevin
Title Page
Copyright
Dear Reader
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Special Excerpt from Sins of the Angels
Prologue
One
Two
About the Author
Prologue
“You want me to what?”
The Archangel Mika’el stared at his Creator. For more than a week he had awaited her summons. He’d been prepared to endure her wrath, her bitterness, her disappointment … but this?
Nothing could have prepared him for this.
The One gazed back at him with equanimity. “I want you to convince Seth to take back his powers.”
Her words made no more sense the second time around.
“You can’t be serious,” he said, because it wouldn’t do to tell his Creator, “You’re insane.”
Steel formed in the silver depths of her eyes. He held himself rigid against the desire to look away. He’d earned his place as Heaven’s greatest warrior through strength and counsel, not by folding at the first sign of the One’s displeasure. Straightening his shoulders, he met her glare with his own.
“Two weeks ago, your son’s instability damn near cost us the mortal realm,” he said. “We have no reason to think he has changed, so why would you give him his powers back?”
The One sighed. “I’m not giving them back.”
“You just said—”
“I said I want you to convince him to take them back.”
Mika’el’s irritation stilled. As her words sank in, he let his mind sift through to their underlying meaning. To what she wasn’t saying. Understanding glimmered.
“The earthquake,” he said. “In Vancouver.”
The One stared out the window, her gaze unfocused. “When Seth chose the mortal woman over his destiny, the energy he discarded put the entire physical world in flux. I’ve been dealing with the consequences ever since. Earthquakes, storms, tsunamis. They’ve been manageable so far, but if we don’t contain what he released soon, it will destroy the planet. Perhaps the entire universe.”
Mika’el’s blood turned cold. He’d seen the consequences of Seth giving up his power in the first place: buildings reduced to rubble, an already earthquake-prone city made more unstable. If the One was right, they’d removed one threat posed by her son only to have it replaced by this, an entirely new problem. And if her proposed solution was to have Seth take back his powers, it could only be because—
He whirled to face her. “The energy. You can’t control it.”
“I can’t so much as touch it.” Bitterness laced the Creator’s voice. “Every time I reach for it, I make it more unstable. Its very nature makes it reject my presence.”
As much as he’d expected the confirmation, it still stunned him. Still made his universe drop from under his feet. “You’re certain?”
You’re certain that you—the All-powerful, the Creator, Mother of everything—cannot control this? Cannot contain an energy that is—should be—so much less than your own?
Raw honesty gazed back at him, piercing deeper than any steel might have done. “The energy is not mine to hold, Mika’el. It was created by my union with Lucifer. It belongs only to the product of that union. I wish it could be otherwise, but—yes, I’m certain.”
“If he does this, if he takes back his powers, how strong will he be?”
If something goes wrong, if he chooses not to return to Heaven, can you stop him?
“I don’t know.”
Her answer, he knew, encompassed both questions, spoken and unspoken.
He pivoted on his heel and stalked the width of the room in one direction, then the other. “There must be another way.”
“We tried your way.”
The words held no recrimination, only a statement of fact, but they stopped him in his tracks. She was right. He’d created this mess. He’d let himself be ruled again by the arrogance that had separated him from her side all those years before, and in that arrogance, had loosed an unknown, unquantifiable force upon the world when they could least afford it.
When war between Heaven and Hell already threatened humanity with Armageddon.
He cleared his throat. “One—”
The tiny, silver-robed figure by the window held up a hand. “What’s done is done. There is no point in belaboring the issue. I just need you to convince Seth. I’ll hold things together as best I can, but I don’t know how much time I can give you.”
“He will never listen to me.”
“No. But he might listen to the woman.”
The Naphil. Of course. After choosing her over his own destiny, Seth would almost certainly listen to her. Still Mika’el hesitated. He wanted to ask what would happen afterward, if Seth did take back his power. Wanted to know … and already did. The measures he’d taken—the risks—none of it had changed her mind.
“You know we’re not ready to lose you,” he said gruffly.
Infinite sadness gazed back at him from silver eyes. “Loss isn’t something you’re ever ready for, my Archangel. It’s something you survive.”
Chapter 1
Alexandra Jarvis jolted awake, heart racing, lungs sucking for air. Bathed in sweat, she lay rigid, waiting for reality to replace the nightmare. Again.
As she had every night since Lucifer had raped her.
Then, through the horror she’d begun to think she might never come to terms with, came the touch of a man’s gentle hand. She flinched, fighting back a shudder, and made herself relax.
“Again?” Seth’s deep voice asked quietly.
She nodded. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see her in the dark; after two weeks, he was as familiar with the nightmare as she was.
He tugged her close. She let him slide an arm beneath her and curled into him, head resting on his chest. She focused on the steady tha-dump of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his breath. Slowly her fingers uncurled. She matched her own breathing to his. Inhale, exhale, inhale.
His voice rumbled beneath her ear. “It’s not getting any better, Alex.”
She tensed anew, but his arm held firm. “I’m doing my best,” she muttered.
“I know. But I’ve been doing some reading”—his hold tightened against a second attempt to free herself—“and I think maybe you need help with this. I think it might be post–traumatic stress—”
She succeeded in pulling away, scowling down at him in the dark. “I know what it is, Seth, and you’re right. I probably should talk to someone, but who the hell do you suggest? Being raped by Lucifer himself isn’t something I can discuss with just anyone, for chrissakes. We mortals tend to medicate people who spout off about things like that. Especially people with my history.”
And you refuse to talk to me about any of it.
Seth stroked her hair. The faint tension in his hand told her he knew full well the words she’d swallowed back, but once again he avoided the subject. “I know. And I know you’re trying. But you can’t go on like this. We can’t go on like this.”
Like this. Words too small to contain all that lay behind them: the disappointment; the recriminations never stated but always underlying; the hurt she knew she inflicted whenever he reached for her and Lucifer loom
ed between them yet again. Lucifer in Seth’s form. Lucifer turning her into nothing more than another pawn in the cosmic mockery of a game he played with the One.
Reassurances gathered in her throat but refused to move farther. She couldn’t make herself say what she didn’t believe to be true, couldn’t promise that everything would be all right. Not anymore. Not knowing what she did of Heaven and Hell and the Nephilim and—
On the bedside table, her cell phone shrilled. She extricated herself from Seth’s hold and rolled over to grab it.
“Jarvis.”
“I need you at a scene.”
Surprise made her fumble the phone. “Staff?”
“Does anyone else call you at three a.m. to attend a murder scene?” Staff Inspector Roberts growled.
Well, yes. Usually dispatch. She kept the observation to herself and reminded him instead, “I’m not cleared for active duty.”
Sins of the Lost Page 1
