Hand In Ash

by Zoe Parker

  Mario brought his entire family with him.

  “Might as well get this over with,” she says under her breath, walking around Voss to open the door and go inside the comfortably heated dining room. All of the men stand up at once, and the cacophony of scooting chairs makes her teeth hurt.

  Looking around the sea of faces, she discovers Mario fairly quickly, minus a ruby pinky ring–which is slightly disappointing. Or the slightly too tight suit. Although he does tick some of her imagination boxes, there’s not enough of them for her to base everything about him off of the typical mobster. The flash of cunning in his eyes, the way he holds himself like he’s ready to leap into a fight at any moment, are surprises and make her reevaluate her opinion of him.

  Soon enough, she’ll see into the heart of him and know exactly what kind of person he is.

  Looking at him, she can see why he’s their leader-type person. He’s as intimidating as any alpha, with blonde hair and steel-gray eyes. He’s not super tall, or muscular, but something about him stands out compared to his men.

  He comes around the small round table and holds his hand out for hers. She shakes her head, but he doesn’t look offended. Instead, he waves toward the empty chair across from him and turns his speculative gaze to Voss.

  “I expected you to bring a bodyguard but was not expecting him to be it,” Mario comments before taking a seat across from her.

  “Neither was I,” she replies blandly.

  “It isn’t every day that the king leaves his castle.” He gives Voss a somewhat smug look, and she looks between the two men. These two know each other on a personal level and going by the tightness of the smile on Mario’s face, Voss makes him nervous.

  Voss drags a chair to the table and sits beside her. “All kings like to rescue princesses.” For that comment, she kicks him under the table, and the only sign of her action is the tightening of his lips. She starts to laugh but covers it with a very fake, very loud cough.

  “I won’t hurt her,” Mario assures him.

  “You threatened her before,” Voss returns.

  “My man was slightly overzealous in his desire to follow my orders. But here and now, I give you my word that I will never harm her or allow her to come to harm from any of mine,” Mario vows with a solemnity that can’t be faked. Plus, she’d know if he were lying.

  “Good. Otherwise, I’ll kill you and everyone connected to you.” Voss’s threat isn’t an empty one, and she opens her mouth to tell him which one of his holes he can shove his threats into when Devil shushes her.

  She meets his gaze prepared to verbally blister him when he gives a slight shake of his head. Her brain catches up with her pride. The things they’re saying might be true, but it’s all alpha male posturing. Something that’s oddly attractive and equally annoying to her. Crossing her arms, she leans back in her chair to wait them out.

  Ten minutes of meaningless threats and dodges before Voss sits back with a satisfied air to him. Sora yawns and finally looks at Mario.

  “That was painful to watch. Do all shifters do that?” Devil asks, breaking the lingering tension in the room.

  Mario turns his complete attention to her and sets a manila folder on the table. Using only his finger, he slides it across to her and waits. She doesn’t open it. Mario is a lot of things, that she doesn’t doubt, but he’s a man of his word.

  “I want to clarify something in front of you and Voss. He might be Mr. Badass, but I don’t need him to protect me or to scare you, Mario. If you fuck me over, ever, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your short life reliving the horror of every single sin you’ve committed and then some.” She let them have their alpha bullshit moment, but she can’t leave everyone thinking Voss is her babysitter, and she’s a wilted flower everyone can walk all over.

  Never again.

  “I have to say those are some of the hottest words to ever come out of your mouth,” Devil says with a cheesy smile. “You realize that we have the cast of a B-movie?” He looks around and when she gives him a questioning look, he explains, “There’s the jaded hero,” he points at Voss, “the bad-good guy,” he points at Mario, “and finally the henchmen.” He points at the dining room full of suited men.

  “Who am I?”

  “The token hot chick.” That’s better than the weepy heroine waiting to be rescued.

  “Who are you?”

  “That’s easy, Sora. I’m the damsel in distress,” he says smugly.

  “Did you do a lot of drugs in your previous life?” Sora asks him, seriously contemplating it.

  “Back to business?” Mario asks, giving Devil a strange look.

  “Oh, about that.” Devil floats close to Mario. “If you ever hurt her, hell won’t be a respite for you, because I’ll find you there,” he whispers.

  Mario suddenly smiles. “I think Voss underestimates you and yours, Miss Suen.”

  “Probably. Arrogant men always underestimate women.” Devil laughs at her wise words of womanhood.

  “It’s the bane of our sex to think that we’re the more dangerous of the two. I think we’ll have an interesting work relationship.”

  “All on my terms. Now, shall we begin?” She grabs his hand before he can answer. Her eyes roll back in her head the minute her magic wakes up. His sins flood into her and take her breath. Mario has done some truly horrible things, mostly to bad people. For what he is, he still has some semblance of a moral compass.

  As she digs deeper, a sin that he’s carried and hidden longer than any others rise to the surface. For the first time, she opens her eyes and meets his gaze, asking silently with her eyes. His fill with pleading and she knows this is the one that haunts him. This is one he wants to keep. She sees it, sees what was done, but releases his hand and her magic all at once.

  He’s honored their deal, and she’ll honor him for it.

  He stands on shaky legs and gives her a slight bow before leaving, with his men filing out behind him. Voss immediately looks at her.

  “What did you see?” He asks.

  “None of your business, Voss.” Her denial is absolute. Mario isn’t a good man, but he’s not the worst one she’s touched either.

  “He’s a dangerous man. You should be choosier who you associate with,” Voss cautions.

  “I hang out with you and you’re more dangerous than he is,” she counters.

  “Touché.” He studies her and then says, “Since we’re already together, why don’t we do something… as friends?”

  “That was your plan from the beginning, wasn’t it?” Devil asks.

  Voss shrugs and looks as nonchalant as ever. Sora debates it, still reeling over Mario’s sins and the thin but solid strand of honor in him. She hadn’t planned on hanging with Voss today, and truth be told she’d rather go home. She’s tired, and Devil hasn’t had a chance to siphon off the muck yet. As if reading her thoughts, he touches her shoulder with his chin, and the weight of them starts to lessen.

  Watching Voss through her lashes, she goes over her options. He has his fingers in every pie in the world, truthfully one of the most powerful men in it. Regardless of why he’s entertaining himself by pursuing her, he has the ability to get in anywhere… anywhere?

  There is one place that no matter who she bribes, blackmails, or begs she can’t get in without the help of someone of high authority. The sorcerer Archives. They keep records of every scrap of information they can get their hands on in there. That doesn’t mean they know everything, but there’s a chance they might give her some more insight into this whole cult thing.

  But only a select few can enter the Archives, and she’d bet her last dollar Voss is one of them. It’s probably one of the best places she can drag him to bore him to death too. Making this place potentially beneficial for two things.

  Smiling, she leans forward and entreats him with her eyes. “There is someplace I’d love to go,” she says, her smile growing when Voss gives her a suspicious look. “But I doubt it’s your idea of fun.�
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  “But it is yours?” he asks. She nods and sees that he’s willing but cautious. “Where?”

  “The Archives,” she answers, watching his mouth slightly pinch. Voss is a force to be reckoned with, but his idea of hanging out with her doesn’t include dusty books. Pity for him, because that’s her idea of a good time.

  “Oh, fun,” Devil grumbles. He loves his comic books and manga, but normal books aren’t his forte. He claims they bore him stupid instead of making him smarter.

  “What do you want to look for there?” He hasn’t said yes yet, so she keeps the smile on her face.

  “I want to look at how a mage can anchor to a sin eater–a being with a different kind of magic entirely–when using a spell that steals magic.” She sees no reason to lie to him. He’s the one paying them to investigate the case after all. “The real way, not the fake shit they teach us out in the world,” she adds.

  Sora studied everything magic and supernatural all through school, but even then, she knew they weren’t being told everything. Each sect kept their secrets, especially sin eaters. Sorcerers are the most secretive of all, and mages, as dumb as some of them seem to be, are a close second.

  Shifters tend to just let it all hang out. Or so she thought. She’s reevaluating that opinion.

  “There are sections of the library that not even I can enter.” Meaning he tried. She smiles at this, genuinely. Voss always surprises her.

  “Funny that they keep the Alpha Supreme out of things, isn’t it? It makes you wonder what they’re hiding even from you,” Devil muses. If he’d had hands and fingernails, the tone says he’d be examining them now. He meets Voss’s eyes. “Ever notice that your title sounds like a menu item at a pizza place?” Voss’s eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of laughter in them. This might be a first, but if Sora is right, Voss is starting to like Devil.

  Hell will freeze over tomorrow.

  “The sorcerer who maintains the Archives is the one who also controls who sees what. I don’t think we’ll have an issue looking into mages, but they will not allow us in the sorcerers' section,” Voss cautions.

  “Speaking of assholes… I haven’t said anything because I figured you knew, especially since you helped me find that bomb-ass office, about the break-in that happened to Hank?” She signals the waitress and decides to have a coffee before leaving. The Archives are vast and she’ll need mental energy.

  “I know some of it,” he baits, trying to get information. She smiles blandly and orders her coffee. They sit quietly and stare at each other for a while before he asks, “You really want to go there tonight?”

  “Yes, might as well while I have a chance to go,” she answers, thanking and paying the waitress who brings her coffee. “Another day, and you might not be so amicable.” Since things ended with Max, Sora is learning to take advantage of opportunities as they present themselves.

  “Perhaps,” he says, watching her through hooded eyes. As she takes a cautious sip of the hot coffee, she watches him back. He’s dressed much like when she met him in the club. A plain tee, jeans, and boots. He looks like any regular guy.

  If that guy is smoking hot and makes her have the annoying urge to crawl across the table onto his lap.

  “You ready?” she asks, standing. Sitting here in a quiet, relaxed atmosphere, staring at him isn’t good for her determination.

  With a smile playing about his mouth, he stands and follows her out the bistro. Devil meets her gaze and rolls his eyes before getting into the passenger seat of the car and leaving Voss to either take his own car or get in the back seat. Surprising her, he climbs in the back and buckles in like he’s a good boy getting taken to school.

  She starts the car and meets Voss’s eyes in the rearview. “How do I get there?”

  “Downtown, under the courthouse.” She chuckles as she pulls out. They put it right under everyone’s nose.

  “I thought it’d be some dark, gloomy castle with gargoyles standing guard at the gate and a warning about stealing your soul or something equally archaic,” she says in amusement.

  “It probably once was, but their numbers are dwindling.” That’s a surprise to her, and she says as much. “The last census that the council was able to get, their numbers were halved. No one is sure why, but there are rumors that someone is killing them.”

  “Who hates sorcerers enough to kill them?” Sora asks, interested despite herself.

  “Sorcerers have a long history of creating things. Maybe some of them are revolting,” Devil says offhandedly. Voss and Sora both look at him. “Think about it. They’ve made all sorts of creatures and used them as slaves or worse. Doesn’t it stand to reason that eventually they’ll pay for it?”

  “I guess so, yeah. Especially if they’re as strong as constructs.” Sora has heard tales and read the histories, legends, mythology concerning the boogeymen of the supernatural world.

  “Be something if that wasn’t the scariest thing they made, wouldn’t it?” Both of them look at Devil again, waiting to see what he says next. Sora looks back to the road, chewing her lip. Devil knows things, her gut says so, but for whatever reasons he isn’t very forthcoming with that knowledge. Not even about himself.

  Devil smacks his lips, and Sora braces herself. He’s going to say something bad. “So, if you have sex with something or someone in animal form, doesn’t that make it bestiality?” She chokes on the mouthful of coffee she just drank. Grabbing a napkin leftover from their breakfast from Saturday, she wipes at her face and the front of her jacket to try and catch the errant liquid.

  “Where did you say you found him again, Sora?” Voss asks dryly.

  “The pits of hell,” she answers in a choked voice.

  “Unsurprising.” Sora coughs, and when a laugh starts to bubble up, coughs again.

  “It’s a fair question, though,” she says in a voice strained from the effort of holding in her laughter.

  “Can both of you go back to the pits of hell?” Voss asks, slumping in his seat to cross his arms.

  “Oh my god! You’ve had sex in animal form!” Devil exclaims, cackling like the devious bastard he is.

  “I’ve changed my mind. You can drop me off at the hotel,” Voss says, but he’s–mostly–not serious, so Sora keeps driving. He wants to be friends, and this is part of that. He’ll either get used to it or go away.

  Chapter Nine

  She’s not expecting a super warm welcome when they get to the Archives, but the outright disdain the guards in the front show them is surprising. Even Voss, who they look at with fear, is given the same superior looks. What’s worse is the guards are so minimal on the magic scale that she could take them out just by flipping them off.

  Arrogant jerks.

  They’re taken through a series of checkpoints, all run by sorcerers, before arriving in the heart of the library to be greeted by the librarian on duty. He’s so old and craggy that until he stood to greet them, she thought he was dead. His beard is down to his belly button and has some type of gel or grease coating it to style it in fat curls. The hair on his head is sparse, sticking in all directions with this jaunty little half hat perched on the front of his bald, wrinkled head.

  He’s a geriatric air stewardess.

  Choking on a laugh, she looks away before he catches her and quietly follows behind Voss with Devil tucked in her hood. Voss suggested it since Devil is an anomaly even in the sin eater world. Sorcerers are renowned for being curious and taking things when they want to study them. Plus, there’s always the chance they wouldn’t let them bring him in, considering he’s a purely magical creature.

  She wishes them luck if they try to take him. Their stupid library will burn up like old kindling, and all it would take is a match or a flaming arm.

  The distinct smell of vinegar keeps wafting back behind the surprisingly fast-walking old librarian. Either he’s bathing in it or eating all his food soaked in it. Either way, it’s not pleasant. She pulls her scarf up around her nose and is thankful
when the smell is mostly cut off.

  Poor Voss must be in smell-hell.

  They’re seated at a round, dust-covered table, and the librarian clears his throat and crosses his arms. “What books would you like today?”

  “I need the books on magic stealing spells that mages perform, please.” She can see the refusal forming on his face, but then he nods and shuffles off on his stick legs to hopefully get the books. They pass the time he’s gone silently, she and Voss both looking around for the source of the gazes they can feel.

  “Be mindful of what you say here, ears everywhere,” Voss says under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. Not that she wasn’t aware, but she says nothing.

  When the librarian returns, he has two books, both of which he sets on the table before her. She wasn’t expecting half the library, but two books can’t be right. She gives the suddenly smug-looking man a questioning look.

  “This is all that that’s left. The rest of the books on the subject are checked out until further notice.” As in, she can’t have them for whatever reason he has for being a dick.

  “Can I check these two out?” she asks, preferring to read them in privacy.

  “No, absolutely not. People like you aren’t in that privileged group,” he says snidely.

  The librarian’s answer is exactly what she expected, but that doesn’t make her any bigger a fan. If anything, she thinks even less of them now. He sniffs and turns, walking away with a lift to his shoulders that his arrogant ass doesn’t deserve.

  She’s tempted to hit him in the back of the head with a book.

  “Thanks,” she says, turning away and ignoring him standing at his desk across the room staring at her like he expects something. Arguing with him is pointless, so she’ll take what she can get. This is more than she can find anywhere else. This information is only here, and some kind of magic prevents people from taking copies out unless they formally check them out. All they leave with is what’s in their memories. Not that she’s too worried about that, she simply wanted to see if there’s anything previously unknown to her.