Sin's Gift (Veiled Alliance Book 1)

by Delilah Devlin

  She closed her eyes but couldn’t help the rueful smile that stretched her lips. “But that was too damn awesome.”

  “I’ve done much nastier things to you. Why be embarrassed because I sucked your nipples until you orgasmed?”

  She opened one eye. “Okay, now the dirty talk is getting annoying.”

  “Why now?”

  “Because you’re looking so damn smug.”

  His thumb swept her lower lip, and she couldn’t resist looking back into his dark brown eyes.

  “Didn’t I earn bragging rights?” he asked, his voice dipping lower.

  “Who you gonna brag to?”

  “Hmm…gotta point.”

  Because she didn’t want either of them thinking about anyone outside her room, she canted her head. “No, but I bet you have a point. Are the brains of your operation beginning to wake up?”

  “Baby, he’s been biding his time until you remembered him again.”

  Jake’s wicked grin had her smile deepening. “Chappa, you asking me to blow you?”

  Jake inhaled sharply. “Now, look who’s talkin’ dirty?” he growled.

  Sin traced his lower lip with her forefinger and gave him a flirty little glance. “How do you want it?”

  Jake closed his eyes and slid his lips down her finger, sucking hard when he pulled away.

  “Just like that?” she whispered, enthralled with the rapt expression on his face as he blinked and opened his eyes. The man couldn’t suck a fingertip without making it a new erogenous zone.

  He clasped her hand and brought her wet finger to her lips. “I wanna watch your mouth swallow me whole.” Then he slipped her finger into her mouth and stared as she sucked it deep into her mouth.

  A groan tore from his throat. He tugged away her finger and rolled over her body, his cock thrusting straight between her folds.

  “Thought you wanted me on my knees,” she gasped.

  His jaws clenched. “Later.”

  A long time later, Sin lay atop Jake’s chest, her cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the thud of his heart as it slowed. Jake’s fingers lingered in her hair, rubbing her scalp, no doubt to make up for the firm pulling he’d given her as he’d come hard, pistoning into her body from behind.

  These were the best times—coming down off an orgiastic high with a sweet ache between her legs. “I love this part,” she said, snuggling closer, rolling her hips to give his cock a sexy caress.

  His fingers tugged her hair gently, raising her face to meet his gaze. His expression sent her stomach churning.

  “So, why do you suppose you’re not on administrative leave?” he asked, his tone quiet and even.

  Sin sighed. So much for enjoying the afterglow. “You mean, because there’s a dead guy?”

  “Yeah.

  “I wondered that, too. “

  “Kinda expected us to get the call to come back to the station.”

  “Bet you waited for it,” she said bitterness creeping into her tone.

  Jake pulled her hair harder. “Look. It’s procedure. A criminal died while you were in pursuit.”

  Sin rose, placing her elbows in the mattress on either side of his broad chest. It was time to talk. “All right, so I’m looking for a reason to be mad at you. I wondered about it, too. After I got off shift, I called the detective back. Ruiz said Petrakis made the recommendation after he visited the morgue. Said it looked like the guy died of natural causes. Not a bruise on him. No gunshot.”

  “So, you’re free and clear? He just dropped dead?”

  “Yeah,” her shoulders slumped as she let him get a glimpse of her own confusion. “Wigged me out. I’m bruised all over. I thought I hit him.”

  “Guess you hit the wall. That’s good.” At her raised eyebrow, he said, “You know what I mean. They can’t hold you responsible.”

  “Still, why would Petrakis do that? Why the fuck would he give a damn whether they went through the process over me or not?”

  Jake’s hands slid to the back of her neck, and he brought her head down to his. “Guess you’ll have to ask him,” he whispered against her lips.

  Sin wondered why she couldn’t stop thinking about it, why she couldn’t just let the whole incident go. Put it down to a robbery gone bad. Yet, something in her gut told her there was more to the story.

  Promising herself she wouldn’t drag Jake deeper into her obsession, she leaned down and met his fiery kiss.

  Chapter 5

  Sin was closing the buckle on her utility belt, sliding the leather through the prongs, when the doorbell rang.

  Wondering if Jake had decided to catch a bite to eat before work after all, she flung open the door, a smile on her face, only to feel it slowly freeze when she saw who stood there.

  Her hand slipped from the doorknob, and she swayed on her feet.

  Her visitor stepped over the threshold, slipped an arm around her waist, and then turned to close the door behind him. “Don’t pass out on me now,” he muttered. “You better have a seat.”

  He turned her toward the sofa, but Sin shook off his arm and made it under her own steam. Just. “I wasn’t going to pass out.”

  “And chalk is the usual color of your skin?”

  Sin ignored his gentle gibe and sat in the middle of the sofa, the same place Jake had made love to her early that morning. Smoothing a hand over her hair, she swallowed, stalling for time before she lifted her gaze to his.

  Yup, she hadn’t been mistaken. Dark-haired and so beautiful she’d known she would never forget his face—even if she had been half-way to believing he’d only been a dream.

  Her “birdman” sat in the chair opposite her.

  His black eyes narrowed. “Do you remember me?” he asked, his voice a little tight, not the melodic one from her trip into la-la land.

  Was he going to admit she’d met him after he’d picked her up and flew her upside down until he’d dropped her in the dirt? Sin nodded slowly.

  “We met at an Academy graduation. Three years ago.”

  Sin felt her stomach knot. No way was he going to get away with letting her think she was nuts. She’d had enough of feeling uncertain about herself. She knew what she’d seen. The shirt the big cat had shredded was still in the bottom of her laundry basket. “I think we met two nights ago,” she said, surprised she’d found the bite to infuse into her tone.

  He blinked, and his gaze narrowed again. “I’m Detective Petrakis,” he said slowly. “We met at an academy graduation.”

  Petrakis. “Funny, I don’t remember that.”

  “Maybe because your eyes were glued on the man you were there with,” he said smoothly. “I heard you suffered an injury the other night. Ran into a wall.”

  “I ran through a goddamn wall,” she bit out. “Don’t even try to tell me I hit my head. I know what I saw.”

  The corners of his lips twitched. “All right. I won’t.”

  He fished his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cylindrical metal object, silver-colored and imprinted with designs she thought might be Aztec or Mayan. Mexican history wasn’t her thing, but she’d been to Mexico a couple of times and had visited ruins with similar artwork on the sides of the temples.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

  “I’m assuming it’s the thing the dead robbery suspect stole from the coin shop.”

  “It’s the handle of an ancient weapon. A sword.” He tossed it across to her.

  Sin caught it and gripped the smooth metal beneath the inscriptions. “Okay, it’s part of a sword. What about it?”

  Detective Petrakis sat very still, staring at the artifact in her hand, and then slumped back into his chair. “Guess I had it wrong.”

  “Guess so,” she said, knowing she wasn’t meant to follow his line of conversation by the way his gaze grew distant and lifted beyond her shoulder. “Look, I have some questions for you.”

  The detective stood abruptly and held out his hand for the artifact. “Sorry to have taken u
p your time.”

  Sin reached automatically to place it back in his palm but snatched it back at the last moment. “You’re really not going to clue me in on what happened the other night?”

  His lips slid into a tight smile. “I have to get to work. I believe you have a shift starting in an hour. You’re gonna be late.”

  “You can call and square it with my supervisor,” she said slowly, “seeing as how you’re the reason I’m gonna be late. I still have questions.”

  “I read your report. I’ll let you look at mine. Now, I really do have to go.”

  Sin stood, annoyed at being dismissed. “If we didn’t meet the other night then how do I know what you look like naked?”

  One dark, perfectly arched brow rose. “A good imagination? I’m flattered.” He held out his hand again, and Sin grudgingly placed the handle across his palm. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door.

  Her stomach continued to knot. She knew if she let him leave, she’d lose her one last chance to find out what she’d really experienced. “I saw his face,” she blurted, “before he went into that alley. He didn’t look human.”

  Petrakis’s hand paused on the doorknob. “What exactly did you see?” he asked softly.

  “I heard him first. Back at the coin shop. He growled like a mountain lion. When he reached a streetlamp, he looked back at me. His face…it kind of bled away in streaks of color.”

  Detective Petrakis looked over his shoulder, his gaze so intense, she had a moment’s doubt she should have mentioned it.

  “Have you seen anything like him before?”

  She nodded. “A homeless guy, just before we got the call from dispatch.”

  A low, filthy curse passed between his thinning lips. Holding her gaze, he turned and leaned his back against the door. “Sinead O’Rourke, I think I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

  From his grim expression, Detective Petrakis wasn’t very happy with her revelation. He closed his eyes, cursed softly again, and then seemed to come to a decision.

  Everything after that happened quickly. He bundled her into his car without a word, told her to keep her questions to herself until he had a chance to consult with someone else, then took her back to the coin shop.

  Just as before, the shop appeared empty when they entered.

  “He really needs to think about hiring some help,” Sin muttered.

  A muffled voice sounded from the back room, and the little, wiry shopkeeper appeared, blinking first at the detective, and then stiffening when he saw Sin. “More questions for me, Officer?”

  “You’ve been back here?” the detective asked, suspicion in his deepening tone.

  She shrugged. “Like he said, I had some questions.”

  “About the artifact,” the shopkeeper interjected, his eyebrows rising as he shared a charged glance with the detective.

  Both men turned to stare at Sin.

  She shifted, uncomfortable beneath their scrutiny. “So what?”

  “She sees demons, Athanasius,” Petrakis said. “Skinwalkers, to be precise.”

  The shopkeeper’s expression froze, and his gaze returned to sweep her head to foot. “But she’s human. Isn’t she? Did you confirm it?”

  “No time. I came straight here after she dropped that little bomb.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” the older man asked.

  “For you to tell me this’ll never work and to get her the hell out of here.”

  The shopkeeper’s eyebrows lowered. “Your instincts weren’t wrong to bring her, friend. But really, we must know for certain before we discuss anything else in front of her.”

  The detective turned to Sin, his gaze narrowing on her.

  Sin took a step backward, not really afraid, just reacting with caution to the intensity of darkening eyes.

  His hand lashed out and grabbed hers.

  Sin tugged, but his fingers manacled her wrist.

  The shopkeeper reached behind his counter and rifled through a drawer until he brought up a small green bowl carved out of a gemstone rock and a thimble with a needle-like point.

  Sin balled her fingers into a fist and continued to struggle, but the detective forced her fingers open, grabbed her forefinger and gave her a glare. “This won’t hurt much if you’ll just quit fighting me.”

  “All you had to do was ask,” she said, scowling back. “You want blood?”

  “That’s correct,” the shopkeeper said calmly, raising the thimble and lifting an eyebrow for permission.

  Sin nodded sharply, schooling herself not to wince when he pricked her finger.

  Blood dripped into the bowl as Petrakis squeezed her finger.

  “That should be enough, Theo,” the shopkeeper murmured.

  The detective released her hand, and Sin jerked away, sucking on her fingertip. Then she leaned over the counter to see what both men stared at.

  Athanasius sprinkled a yellow powder on top of her blood and stirred it with a pencil eraser. Nothing happened.

  Both men waited, continuing to stare.

  “Did I pass?” she asked, thinking maybe they were both a little nuts and the test was anticlimactic.

  The shopkeeper looked up first. “One hundred percent human.”

  “Grade-A Irish. Could have told you that.”

  Neither responded to her sarcasm. Instead, excitement glittered in the shopkeeper’s gaze. “Did you test the relic?” he asked the detective.

  “It sat like a hunk of metal in her hand.”

  “Oh. How disappointing…” The shopkeeper’s lips pursed, but then his gaze came back to her. “Still, this might be a lucky break. She sees them, Theo.”

  “Any help we get from her will only be through dumb luck. She sees them, but she can’t track them. Sight only. No sense or smell.”

  “It’s more than we’ve had.” The shopkeeper’s gaze remained on her, but he continued to talk to the detective. “Baiting the shop with relics will only work so many times before the demons catch on that we’re doing it deliberately.”

  Petrakis raked a hand through his hair. “You’ve made contact with that auction house?”

  “I’m not comfortable using them. We would be endangering their staff.”

  “We’ll demand greater security while they hold it. Just recommend our own firm.”

  “What firm?”

  The detective shrugged. “Exactly.”

  Getting more irritated by the moment by a conversation she couldn’t follow, Sinead released a pent-up breath. “All right, I’m still standing here. Mind clueing me in on what’s going on? You brought the sword here to get a demon to try to steal it?”

  Petrakis looked surprised by her question. Maybe he’d just remembered she still stood there. “How do you think I got there quick enough to shove you back through the portal?”

  Sin narrowed her gaze. “It wasn’t coincidence?”

  “Nothing ever is.”

  Sin turned back to the shopkeeper. “Are you like him?” she asked, eyeing him dubiously.

  The shopkeeper’s smile deepened. Then he shook his head rapidly, like a dog shedding water. Two, three shakes, and his body expanded upward, his shoulders spread. His graying brown hair lengthened to the tops of his shoulders.

  Sin was a little disappointed his clothing stretched right along with his body. The man might have some snow on the peaks, but he still could have been a cover model for a romance novel. “All right. That answers one question. Why are you showing me this?”

  The “shopkeeper” gave the detective a nod.

  “We have need of you, Sinead O’Rourke,” Petrakis said, his tones deepening, lengthening into his familiar, melodic drawl.

  “How did this happen? Were you born with this gift?” the shopkeeper asked, his golden-brown gaze still raking over her.

  Sin thought it a little obscene to call her new ability a gift, given she’d shed blood and lost a friend to acquire it. “I was shot,” she bit out.

&nb
sp; “A woman of few words, Theo,” the older man said. “A treasure, hmmm?”

  “She’s reckless.”

  “She needs training.”

  “She’s human. Her skills are limited.”

  Athanasius locked his gaze with hers. “But does she have courage?”

  “Miles of it,” Petrakis said, his tone begrudging.

  Athanasius relaxed, a smile stretching his thin, masculine mouth. “Then, what is the problem? Bring her down. We’ll introduce her to the team.”

  “Dammit, Athan,” Petrakis ground out between clenched jaws.

  Athan’s expression grew solemn. “We’ve been playing hide-and-seek games with these skinwalkers for months. At last, we have a break. Don’t you think you should simply give thanks to the gods for his gift?”

  “We’re going to get her killed,” Petrakis replied quietly.

  “She has you to watch her back, friend.”

  “I already have a partner,” Sin growled, really tired of them talking as though she wasn’t standing there.

  “A slight complication only,” Athan said, with small wave of his hand. His glance fell on her again. “Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable joining us if you brought him along as well?”

  “Oh, I can see Jake going for this, all right,” Sin muttered.

  “Something to think about, anyway.” He gestured for her to follow him then led the way into the back room.

  She paused at the door. “Aren’t you worried about someone entering the shop when no one’s here?”

  “Someone is always here, Sinead,” Athan said. “You just can’t see them.”

  Sin darted a startled glance behind her then stepped into the back room.

  It looked like any other office—a desk covered in invoices, Post-its cluttering a white board, a worn leather desk chair. Athan walked to the desk and through it.

  With a gentle shove against her lower back, Sin followed, stepping past the fading, holographic desk into the dimly lit corridor behind it.

  Sin knew more magic had to be at work here, because there was no way the little shop was this deep. Gray walls were scuffed. The tiled floor covered in chipped linoleum. Bare bulbs strung along an electric wire stapled to the ceiling expelled pockets of shadows. They continued farther down the crude corridor toward a single doorway.