The Sinner

by Emma Scott

  Jana’s husband craned around in his seat with a friendly smile. “I sure am, though I don’t think Kai will need much convincing.” He extended a hand to Casziel. “Brian Gill.”

  The demon dragged his gaze to Brian’s hand, then away.

  I coughed. “This is Cas Abisare. He’s…not feeling well.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Brian said, shooting his wife a look. He turned around quickly; the back of his neck above his suit collar had broken out in goosebumps.

  Jana raised her brows at me, but the ceremony was starting. Kimberly took her place under the arch, looking radiantly happy in a white suit with a cobalt blue tie. She glanced nervously at the officiant, which made me smile. Kimberly was never nervous.

  The bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle and took their places—a mix of both on either side. Then Nylah, on the arm of her father, took her turn. She was stunning in a white dress with blue flowers embroidered up the hem, the same color as Kim’s tie. She and Kimberly both had tears in their eyes as they clasped hands.

  I was flooded with happiness to witness their happiness—a romance novel playing out right before my eyes. Without thinking, I took Casziel’s hand, squeezing hard, needing an outlet so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself by bursting into tears.

  To my shock, his fingers curled around mine and held on. I didn’t dare look at him, afraid he’d change his mind and push me away. But he sat with my hand engulfed in his as we watched the ceremony.

  The officiant began her opening, but her voice sounded distant. Nylah and Kimberly grew blurry and indistinct. A new image superimposed itself over them—a different wedding, high on a stone roof. A temple. Two rivers glistened distantly on either side…

  I gasped and blinked. The image vanished and I turned to Cas. He was looking at me with the same ache I’d felt for so long. His longing a reflection of mine and now so close to the surface…

  Dimly, I was aware that Kimberly and Nylah were kissing, the guests cheering and clapping, more than a few wiping their eyes. Then the newlyweds came down the aisle hand in hand and everyone got to their feet.

  I wet my lips. “Cas, I—”

  “There you are! Snuck in last minute, eh?”

  We both flinched, and Cas let go of my hand while releasing me from the intensity of his gaze. Abby had her hands on her slender hips, her eyes only for him, as if she were starving and he was her next meal. She was supermodel stunning in a tight-fitting purple dress that hugged her curves, her hair falling in soft waves down her back. Guy was with her, handsome as usual in a beige sport coat and slacks, as if he’d stepped out of a Ralph Lauren catalog. Everyone said hi and cooed over the baby.

  “That was a beautiful ceremony,” Guy said and nodded his head at Cas warily. “Hey, man.”

  I braced myself for Casziel’s acid tongue or dagger glare. But he looked at Guy with a strange expression I couldn’t identify. As if they’d run a race and Cas had lost.

  He shook Guy’s hand graciously. “Good to see you.”

  “Uh, yeah, you too,” Guy said, surprised and then grinning. “Here’s hoping I left Zu at home, right?”

  “I doubt he’ll bother you again.”

  My heart clenched with sudden pain.

  He’s saying goodbye.

  “Can we please get a drink now?” Abby griped.

  The Lake was growing gray under a heavy sky. Jana and Brian hung back to talk to some people, while the four of us headed for the bar. Abby slung her arm through mine and slowed me down while the men went ahead.

  “I’m not feeling the loose cut of your dress, but the cleavage makes up for it. Great rack, babe. Guy is going to flip.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked without energy. “He hasn’t said a word to me.”

  “Of course not. Why would he when you’re sticking so close to Cas, staring into his eyes like that? You looked like you were about to kiss.”

  My fingers went to my lips. A flicker of…something came and went. Abby was shaking her head.

  “I think you’re safe but don’t do it again. I’ll run interference for you, and just watch how fast Mr. Baker comes running.”

  “Interference…?”

  We joined the men at the bar.

  “You look pretty, Luce,” Guy said, and Abby mouthed I told you so.

  But his friendly grin showed no signs of the drunken devotion he’d had at karaoke. “Something to drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  “Borrrring,” Abby drawled. “Come on, Luce. Live a little.”

  “Nope, I’m good,” I said, my voice uncharacteristically firm. I didn’t believe for a second that I’d drunk too much wine the night before, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Good idea,” Guy said. “I’ll stay sober with you. Abby?”

  “Vodka and soda for me,” Abby said. She wedged herself next to Cas, hip to hip, and gave him a seductive grin. “Vodka makes me reckless. How about you?”

  He turned a flat gaze on her. “It gives me a headache.”

  I almost burst out laughing and took a swift sip of water. Abby pouted but recovered quickly. She linked her arm in his. “Maybe you just haven’t found your liquor,” she purred. “Or the right person to drink it with.”

  Cas glanced at Guy. “Maybe not,” he said with a faint smile, and my laughter drained away.

  We took our drinks and headed back out to rejoin Jana and Brian. Baby Wyatt was awake now, blinking sleepily at the scene around him. Kim and Nylah had come outside too, wading through well-wishers as they made their way to us.

  “Beautiful ceremony,” Guy said. “Congrats, you two.”

  The rest of us echoed his sentiment and then Casziel bowed low.

  “Šùde níñ-mí-ús-sá. My best wishes for a joyous life together.”

  His voice was low and deep, his native language flowing off his tongue like rich wine. Everyone stared, charmed but confused, no doubt feeling that peculiar sense that something was…off.

  Abby broke the silence with a screech. “Oh my God, what was that? Iraqi?”

  “It was beautiful, whatever it was,” Kimberly said, exchanging smiles with Nylah. “Thank you, Cas.”

  “I believe Arabic and Kurdish are spoken in Iraq.” Guy frowned a little. “I’m no expert, but that didn’t sound like either.”

  Because it wasn’t. I’d learned in that anthropology class at NYU that Sumerian was a language isolate. It had no connection to other languages. No roots and no branches.

  Like Casziel, I thought, watching him– elegant, dangerously dark and beautiful and utterly alone in the world. A true outlander. A wanderer. A rōnin…

  I froze, my chest constricting, as if I’d been doused with a bucket of ice water. Then heat rushed through me like a fuse racing through every nerve ending. Last night flooded back. Everything flooded back. Demons in dark alleys, flies, and… My hand flew to my mouth; I could barely hold the water glass in the other. We’d kissed. Just like the warrior and his woman kissed in my dream. Because it wasn’t a dream.

  It was a memory.

  He was the warrior and she was…

  A gasp slipped out of me but was drowned in conversation, music, and the clink of glasses. Somewhere in my deepest self, I’d known the truth, but it had lived in the shadows. Now it stood naked and raw in the bright light of day. The ramifications flooded me, too many to take in all at once. The sense of something unresolved between us, now resolved, rushed through me, taking my breath away.

  I gazed at Casziel, standing in that light of truth, new and yet achingly familiar. I knew every line of him. Every expression, every curl of his lips, every glance.

  Because he’s mine. He’s always been mine.

  My hand curled tightly around his arm as if he might be ripped away from me again. “I need to talk to you.”

  He glanced down at me and read it all in my face. Understanding dawned in his eyes. I waited for him to tell me I was crazy or drunk or maybe speak the word that would put my memories ba
ck to sleep.

  Instead, he shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.

  “Maybe he was right. I just have to love you.” He touched my cheek. “Li’ili.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes as my heart felt like it was breaking and healing at the same time. The warmth and fullness were unlike anything I’d ever known. The missing love of this lifetime and a hundred others now had a name too.

  Abby nudged me out of my thoughts with a sharp elbow. She cleared her throat meaningfully, head inclined to Guy. “Oh my God, I love this song! Cas, come dance with me.”

  She took his arm, tugging him to the small dance floor at the edge of the deck. Jana and Brian had been muttering to each other and digging in the diaper bag slung on his shoulder.

  “If I had two hands, I could find it,” Jana said. “Do you mind, Luce?”

  She plopped Wyatt in my arms as Cas let Abby drag him away. But he shook his head, letting me know everything was going to be okay.

  He’s going to be okay, I thought. Someone is watching. They have to be…

  “Forget it. It’s too late now,” Jana grumbled at her husband, and they called a bickering cease-fire. She gave me a grateful smile and reached for the baby. “Thanks, Lucy—”

  Wyatt burped, and a splat of white landed on the shoulder of my dress.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Shit, your dress…”

  “It’s perfectly fine,” I said, laughing. I patted the baby’s back. “You okay, sweet pea? You want your mama?”

  Jana took the baby and flapped her free hand at Brian. “Get a wipey, quick.”

  Her husband began another search. “I don’t see any wipies in here…”

  “You have got to be kidding me…”

  The bickering began anew, and I laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Jana. I’ll get a wet cloth from the bar.”

  Inside, every stool at the long gleaming counter was occupied but for one at the end. I sat at it and asked the bartender for a wet cloth. He obliged, and I cleaned baby spit-up off my shoulder. I stood to go when a terrible stench, barely concealed behind cologne, wafted over me. Something cold and clammy clamped down on my wrist. Fingers wearing antique rings with rubies and burnished gold gripped me tightly. I raised my petrified gaze.

  The man was middle-aged, but his pale blue eyes told me he was older than counted time. His suit was pure white, complete with tails and a top hat. Another lie—there was nothing pure about him. His hair flowed down his back in soft brown waves, and elegant spectacles were perched on his nose. He brought to mind Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker’s Dracula—a hideous monster wearing the suit of a dignified man.

  Ashtaroth.

  As I stared, a snake slithered out from under his sleeve and over my skin, cold and smooth. I tried to jerk my hand back, but the demon held me fast.

  “Lucy Dennings,” he said, his voice as old as the grave. “The girl my beautiful prince cannot relinquish. At last, we meet.”

  “Let me go.”

  He leaned in. “You first.”

  I stared, the sheer malevolence in his empty blue eyes making my insides shiver. His breath had my eyes watering—a stink that was everything rotting and spoiled in the world. He released me from his gaze but held my wrist tight.

  “Your hold on Casziel has been a nuisance for centuries. His weakness for you disgusts me. A liability I can no longer tolerate. Your infatuation for him is equally baffling. Do you know who he is, your beloved?”

  “Yes,” I managed through a dry throat. “I know exactly who he is. Finally…”

  Ashtaroth snorted and the stench intensified. “I’m not speaking of the man you knew in one pathetic lifetime thousands of years ago. The lifetime you both cling to like barnacles on a sinking ship. I mean who he is. What he has become under my care.”

  “Care?” I barked a laugh, short and fearful. “Doesn’t matter. He’s still himself. You failed—”

  “Failed? Failed?”

  Ashtaroth’s voice boomed so loud that I felt it in my chest. I glanced around for help and let out a small cry. The entire room had frozen, every person in it an unmoving tableau. As if this were a movie and Ashtaroth had paused it mid-scene.

  “I don’t fail, girl,” the demon sneered. “Others fail me and must be punished. And replaced.”

  “No.” I shook my head, marveling at my own defiance. “You failed because love is stronger than whatever you tried to do to him.”

  “Love.” He scoffed. “Love cannot save him. He’s a liar. A sinner. A fiend of the highest order. Did you believe his little tale about his redemption?” He laughed, mirthless and cold. “Foolish girl. There is only one way out for him.”

  “H-how?” I asked through trembling lips.

  “A trade. A soul for a soul.” Ashtaroth traced a line down my cheek with one long fingernail. “So sweet, Lucy Dennings. So ripe and good. How deep does that goodness go, I wonder?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, dread squeezing my heart just as hard until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Casziel has sacrificed his eternal soul for want of you. I can’t imagine you would allow him another millennium of agony. Not if you loved him, sweet Lucy. And you do love him…” He cocked his head with mock curiosity. “Don’t you?”

  The demon released my wrist and stood up, snakes slithering at his feet and across the bar. He touched my chin with the side of his finger, tilting my head up, studying me. I could feel his dead-eyed gaze everywhere on my skin. A wormy tongue touched the corner of his mouth.

  “So ripe…” He exhaled, and the fetid stink of rot and decay gusted over me. “I’ll be listening, Lucy Dennings.”

  Ashtaroth disappeared into the crowd and then the scene around me began again, everyone resuming their lives, unaware. I rubbed my wrist, feeling as if a hundred showers wouldn’t begin to wash his touch off me.

  Casziel rushed to me, his sharp gaze scanning the room. “Something’s happened. I felt it… Why are you so pale?”

  “Ashtaroth,” I managed. My hands were shaking.

  Cas’s eyes widened and he bit off a curse. “Gods, no…”

  He led me away to a less-crowded section of the deck. I took deep breaths of cool air. Overhead, the clouds were thickening.

  Casziel gripped my shoulders, his eyes boring into mine. “Tell me everything. What did he want?”

  “Me.”

  He froze. “What were his exact words?”

  “A soul for a soul. Me for…you.”

  “What did you tell him?” he asked, his tone hardening slightly.

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell him anything. I—what’s wrong?”

  Right before my eyes, his demeanor shifted. The worry left his expression, fell away like a mask, leaving him cold and stony. Empty.

  “Cas?”

  Slowly, a smirk curled his lips, and he heaved a sigh. “I suppose the game is up. A pity. You’ve been a delight, Lucy Dennings. The most entertainment we—Ashtaroth and I—have had in long years.”

  “What…what are you talking about?”

  He grabbed a glass of red wine from a waiter’s passing tray. “You know,” he said conversationally, “humans are fools, but most have sense enough not to fall so thoroughly for our machinations.”

  “Machinations…”

  “But you are astonishingly naïve. Gullible.” His smile became a sneer as he sipped his wine. “Silly Lucy. What a treasure of amusement you have been.”

  The blood drained from my face, and I took a step back. “What is happening right now? What are you doing?”

  “Please allow me to introduce myself,” he said in a sing-song voice and gave me a mocking bow. He straightened, and his wicked smile fell away, leaving a countenance of pure malice. “I am the Nightbringer. King of the South. Slayer of men and archduke of hell.”

  “No…”

  “Yes.” The demon’s eyes flashed black, and a cold wave of dread washed over me. “I am as you found me, Lucy Dennings.” He held up his wine, swirling the red liquid in th
e glass. It thickened until it became like blood. “A creature of the night. Of the damned. Commander of legions…”

  The glass was suddenly as big as an ocean, the wine swirling like a vortex, taking me down, down. Red all around me—the sky, the clouds, the ground was muddy with blood. A battlefield. And demons—hairless and slavering like rabid dogs—raced across the wasteland, thousands upon thousands of them. More filled the sky, their wings black, their screams drilling into the center of me.

  At the rear of the legion, Casziel rode in a chariot drawn by horses, the flesh hanging off their bones, flapping and showing rotted tendons and yellow eyes. His black eyes were as merciless as his whip, his wings outstretched like an endless night.

  I saw all this, while at the same time, an image drifted over the first. Superimposed. A battlefield under a blue sky. Human men raced along a field, swords drawn, their faces curled in rage. Humans and demons blurred and merged, the sky was blue and then bloody again.

  And I understood what I was seeing. Casziel led demons on the Other Side, while the humans were on This Side, and the Veil was the mirror that reflected them both. I watched in horror as Casziel drove his legions of demons across the landscape, whipping them into a fury. And on the other side of the Veil, the fury seeped into the human men, and they fought and died…

  I gasped and staggered a step back, blinking out of the vision. “Stop. Why are you doing this? This isn’t you—”

  “No?” Cas cocked his head in mock curiosity. “Who am I? One of the heroes of your stories, willing to do anything for his lady love?” His voice turned sinister, his eyes flashing black again. “I told you before, Lucy Dennings, I am not, nor will I ever be an angel.”

  I shook my head. “No…”

  His gaze went to something over my shoulder. Abby stood at the railing, overlooking The Lake. She twiddled her fingers at Casziel suggestively, and he smiled back, promise in his eyes.

  “Did you ever wonder where I spend my nights?” Cas asked. “Whose arms I fall into? Whose legs part for me? Whose warm cunt I sink my cock into—”