Sin Eater (13 page)

Iola got up to get a … drink. A glass of wine. That would be great.

Seeing that picture
rekindled that same fear and uneasy jumpiness from the subway. Likely more than he had on the street that night. Now, knowing he might be a killer … Iola shivered, remembering his empty eyes, the way they had stared at her before he just decided to walk away … god, she could have been dead. It was worse than she’d thought.

She didn’t bother with a wine glass. She poured the wine
into a large water glass and carried it back to the living room after double-checking the locks on her doors. The movie was back on, and she turned on a few extra lights, too.

Iola hoped Claudia got home soon. She always felt safer knowing her friend was just across the hallway.

What in the hell are you doing?
Claudia knew that voice very well. It was her conscience. She always listened to it, ever since she’d cleaned up and gotten sober. And now, here she was, leading a man she didn’t know up the stairwell to her apartment. She was playing with the keys nervously, and yet no part of her wanted to tell him she’d changed her mind.

On the drive over he’d been utterly silent. She had barely noticed his gorgeous car. She’d been content staring at his profile in the street light that came through the windows. In a flash they were at her apartment building. He parked in one of the unofficial guest spots on the street. He even opened her door for her. He’d offered her hand to help her out of the car, and she hadn’t let go of it, except to open the security door. She still had him by the hand; he was a step below her. She hoped her ass looked good.

Damien was thankfully quiet, leaving her to wrestle with her inner voices.

She unlocked the door, flicking on the light over the entryway.

“Would you … like a drink?” she asked absently over her shoulder as her guest shut the door … locking it … even throwing the chain.

“Sure,” he replied easily, turning back to her and holding her in his gaze.

A drink
, she reminded herself, then moved to the kitchen. “I think I have a beer from when I had a friend over a while ago -”

The fist came at her out of nowhere. It caught her not quite square in the nose, but close enough that she felt her nose start to bleed instantly, and her eyes teared up as she ducked. She ducked because she sensed the man in front of her was rushing at her. While dropping to her side she kicked one leg out, catching him on the inside of the knee. He hollered and went down.

Her nose was hurting but she was on him, pushing him over to his stomach by tightening the neck of his shirt and twisting it, her hand pinning the back of his neck downward. He was squirming, so she gave him a good elbow to the kidneys for good measure.

The man was snarling at her like a wounded animal. The kitchen light was flicked on, and she looked up to see Damien with his hand on the switch. The man’s left arm thrust outward, and that’s when she saw the blade that he had dropped when he fell. Before he could reach it, Damien lowered a foot down cruelly, right on the back of the man’s hand. The snarling turned to squealing.

“Shut up,” Claudia muttered, repositioning herself so her knees were holding his arms at his sides. It must have made his left arm very uncomfortable since it was bent up under a very nice leather Prada loafer. “My cuffs are in the bedroom, dresser’s just to the right of the door. Could you get them for me?”

He didn’t ask if she was sure she could handle the guy, he just removed the heel of his shoe and strolled down the hall like he’d asked to use the washroom.

“How have you been, Charlie?” She muttered, pulling his head up a bit by his hair.

“Charles,” he corrected, spitting all over the floor he was so pissed off.

“Bad time to start beating up on girls, isn’t it? What with the vote, being allowed to drive cars and own property, we’re also learning to kick a little ass now, hey?”

“Shut up,” he spat.

“This is
my
kitchen floor,” she shouted, mashing his face against the linoleum, wishing for the first time it was dirtier. “This is
my
house, how dare you come in here and tell me what to do.”

“Fucking dyke.”

She lowered her mouth right next to his ear. “I’m worse than a dyke, Charlie. I
choose
to be this way.”

He reared his head back, catching her in the nose again. She let
go of his hair to cover that same pounding, gushing fountain as white sparks setting off a light show in her head. He managed to pull his arms out from under her knees, rolling her to the side. Her head hit the cupboards, pain intensifying the white flares in front of her very eyes. She was a bit stunned, but then he was on top of her, his hands clamped around her neck and squeezing so hard it felt like her throat might pop like a grape.

She was kicking her feet to try and throw him off, she even managed to give him a jab right to his nose, but he was in such a rage nothing was working. He was lost in bloodlust, and he was going to kill her.

Then he was lifted up and away, his feet kicking and his mouth falling open in surprise. Damien turned him to face him, gave him a good right-hook and the guy went
down
.

Claudia sat up, her hand to her throat, feeling the air rushing in as refreshing as natural spring water. She heard dripping, looked down, and realized she was bleeding all over her floor.

She put a hand below her nose, looked up at her gentleman caller and said in a muffled voice, “Call Constable Vance for me.” Then she rattled off the number.

Damien dialed the number swiftly on the phone hanging in the kitchen, and the number connected him directly to Vance’s cell phone.

Claudia realized her skirt was up over her hips. Her shirt was askew. She straightened up her clothes, then stared at her blood on the floor. He’d gotten into her apartment … he’d known where she lived. The adrenalin was abating and it was leaving behind
way
too much anxiety.

“Constable Vance? I’m calling on behalf of Claudia Bauer. We have your suspect here at her apartment. He broke in.” Pause. “No, he’s quite unconscious. But you might want to send an ambulance for Sergeant Bauer.”

She shook her head no, but he pointedly ignored her.

“No, she’ll be fine. But he did assault her again.” Pause. “Thank you, Constable.” Then he hung up. “Help is on the way.” Then he handed her the cuffs. “I trust you’d prefer to do the honours?”

When Iola heard the commotion in the hall, she hung back for a moment. The news had her very hesitant to unlock anything that separated her from the outside world. But when police radios got thrown into the mix, she went to her door in alarm, pulling it open. Claudia’s door was propped open by a large man in a police uniform, and as she stepped into the hall another uniformed police officer walked out. He stopped mid-step and held up a hand. “Please go back to your apartment, miss. We have everything under control.”

“Is Claudia okay?” She found herself asking in a tiny voice.

He stopped, then tilted his head. “You know Claudia?”

“She’s my friend. We’ve lived here for years now.”

She didn’t know how to interpret his look, but after a moment he caught himself. “Yeah, she’s fine. You can go on in and see her.”

Iola then became aware she was in her pajamas and all these men were looking at her with piqued interest. Then she remembered that they all knew Claudia’s sexual preference. And now here she came to check in on her
friend
.

Well, fuck ‘em.

She stepped into the apartment carefully, looking around. One officer was cleaning blood off of Claudia’s floor, and he looked a little pale. Another officer was pushing a man out the door –

Iola froze as the man’s eyes fell on her. It was the guy from the subway, the one the cops had been looking for. He was bleeding from his nose and a cut above his eyebrow. When he looked to her she braced herself for that look of hatred and malice … but got nothing. He was blank. He looked over her like she was a house plant.

That’s when she realized he’d been here … looking for Claudia?”

Oh god, where
was
Claudia? She turned for the living room, then stopped dead.

Damien was in the entryway, already looking at her. She frowned, wrapping her arms across her chest. What in the hell was going on?

He smiled easily when he saw her, and then she found herself not wondering what was going on anymore. Her heart went triple-time. Oh holy hell, that smile was something else. The room noise seemed to momentarily fade into mumbled echoes, then he spoke and it came rushing back to normal.

“Iola. Claudia’s in here, she’s fine.”

Iola stepped past him to the living room, doing her best to ignore the blast of heat that went through her when she was near him. Then she saw Claudia.

“Oh my god!” She covered her mouth. Not the best reaction, but it was honest.

Her friend was most definitely
not
fine. Her nose was swollen, one eye was closing up, and was that another bruise on her chin?

She rushed to Claudia, sitting next to her and hugging her without hesitation.

“Iola,” Claudia began but didn’t get much further.

“What happened? Oh my god.” She was repeating herself way too much. The she saw Claudia’s hands, the knuckles were scraped raw. She’d given as good as she’d gotten at least.

“That was our murder suspect. He ran from us today, got a couple licks on me then. He escaped tonight. I don’t know how he found out where I live but when I got home he was in here, waiting for me.”

Iola covered her mouth. “I heard someone in the hall. I even came to the door, I thought you’d come home.”

Claudia’s face paled. “Oh Christ, Iola. He could have killed you.”

“It was him,” she whispered. “That’s the guy that was on the street the other night, the one that I thought was going to mug me.”

Claudia frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Completely. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

There was a burst of laughter across the room, and they both turned to see three uniformed cops looking on them with great interest.

“Do they think we’re dating?” Iola asked under her breath.

“Ugh. In their dreams. Ignore them. I’m just so glad you didn’t come in, and I’m glad he didn’t answer the door.”

Damien Tal
on was still next to the entryway, feigning great interest in Claudia’s bookshelf. Iola leaned closer to her friend.

“What’s
he
doing here?”

It might have been her imagination, but Claudia’s face coloured under all the bruises she was cultivating.
Iola took in her friend’s clothing then; Claudia’d been out herself earlier that night, not at work after all.

T
he cop that had let Iola in stepped into the hallway outside the living room, clapping his hands together.

“All right, folks. Show’s over. Let’s let Sergeant Bauer get some rest.”

At that the three cops started laughing all over again, that raunchy, masculine kind of laugh that made Iola incredibly uncomfortable. But they left, taking the other boys in blue with them.

The nice constable that had shooed them all away came forward and put a hand on Claudia’s shoulder. “You need anything, just call, okay? I’m calling in a sick day for you tomorrow.”

“I’m fine - ”

“Shut the fuck up and get some rest.” But it was said with care and concern and a smile. Then he too left and the apartment got a lot quieter.

Just the …
three
of them.

Iola looked from Claudia to Damien and then back to Claudia. Man, in this equation she
never
thought she’d feel like the third wheel.

“Well, I’ll let you rest, too,” Iola said carefully, getting to her feet. She checked over on Damien, and he caught her gaze.

“Yes, I too shall be going.”

“Wait.”

They both stopped at the doorway, turning back to Claudia. She was fidgeting, and Iola had never seen her neighbour so damn jumpy.

“Would you … could you stay?”

Iola and Damien looked at each other.

“Damien,” Claudia clarified. “Would you mind … staying out here. On the couch? I’m not … I’m not comfortable being here alone.”

Iola’s head was reeling. Maybe she was sleeping, maybe this was all made up.

“If you would like me to, I can do that.”

His voice brought warmth to Iola’s lower body that made her wonder if she
wasn’t
dreaming. She just shrugged. “Well, I guess we’ll talk
tomorrow
.” She made no attempt to hide the fact that it was an order not a question.

Claudia nodded. “Of course. Lock up your place tight, Iola.”

She nodded. “Yeah … you, too.”

The smell of jasmine and vanilla lingered as Iola left the small apartment, shutting the door reluctantly behind her. Across the way, Claudia was no longer emitting heat and arousal. She was … devastated.

The Sin Eater wasn’t such a bastard he would try to get her worked up again. But when she asked him to stay … he couldn’t believe his luck. A friend to both these women? Bringing him closer and giving him a chance to understand what made Iola so … different?

Man, let’s buy lottery tickets. Right. Now.

Claudia got him pillows and a blanket for the sofa. He waited respectfully, knowing she was in charge of this place and he wasn’t about to suggest she needed any help from him. He didn’t need to mind-read to pick up on that vibe.

She wished him a good night and flicked off the overhead lights on her way to her bedroom, leaving a table lamp on next to his “bed” for the night. He sat back for a moment, letting his mind toss around all the weird and wonderful ways things sometimes just worked out without him having to impose his wants on anyone. Much more of this and he wouldn’t have to influence anyone for anything ever again.

The clock was ticking on the bookshelf. Four hours until the sun came up.

Getting himself invited here had been a lot easier than he would have thought. But Claudia was kind of a major assist on the whole thing. He didn’t have to play any mind tricks at all. She was attracted to him like all humans were, plus she was very lonely and sad. Like taking candy from a baby. And here he was, spending the night.

Not how he intended, true enough. But if there was one thing he had it was time.

Dancing with Claudia had been a hell of an appetizer. She was lean but curvy, voluptuous even. And having those gorgeous breasts pressed against him … his cock twitched just remembering it. He wasn’t going to be able to settle down unless he thought of something else for a while.

As a Sin Eater, he didn’t need to sleep. It was unnecessary. From time to time he may fall
into a meditative trance-like state, and it was almost as though that charged his psychic batteries. He felt rested and refreshed, but usually that only happened once every couple of months.

He kicked off his shoes, tossed his blazer on the back of an armchair, undid his shirt and put that on the armchair as well. If he was going to be “sleeping” it may as well look like he was sleeping. So when he pulled the comforter over himself and settled
into the pillows he was only wearing boxer shorts. The blankets smelled like Claudia. Earthy, like patchouli and ginger. The effect was very pleasant.

He stared at the ceiling for about two hours, willing the meditation to come, but it wouldn’t. He was surrounded by the sleeping patterns of all the humans in the building around him. They were chaotic, and latching on to one to follow it was hardly worth his time. True, he could plant a few nightmares if he wanted, or send a zinger of a wet dream to the guy down the hall that had his girlfriend sleeping over for the first time. But he didn’t … he decided to just be
have and not eavesdrop.

Well now, until then
. His senses perked up, and he caught a dream … and it was coming right though the wall behind him, Claudia’s bedroom. Now his interest was piqued.

She was touching someone’s pale and velvety skin, trailing kisses along soft, feminine flesh. A belly button, a soft stomach. She was hot. He knew how this dream was arousing her. It was making
his
breathing a bit ragged, too.

It was Iola. She was dreaming about … oh god.

He almost moaned he was so caught up in it. She dreamed of dipping her head between Iola’s legs and pleasuring her with her tongue and lips. And she could hear Iola’s reaction in her dream as well. It was encouraging to say the least.

Jesus Christ
, his mind burped when he realized he’d gotten hard in his boxers.
Maybe I should be taking notes on this.

Then it ... stopped. Claudia jolted herself awake, but he could smell the arousal still
lingering around her.

He closed his eyes, holding on to the feeling of his lips on that sacred skin …

The bedroom door opened. She was coming down the hallway carefully, not wanting to wake him. She needed a drink of water.

No shit
.

He waited until he heard the water pour, leaving her to her thoughts. Then he got up and made his way to the kitchen.

Fuck him, but he couldn’t help it. His erection needed somewhere warm to land.

She jumped when she saw him, but then he felt her … well,
not
calm. She liked the sight of him, and it appeared that his was a male form she didn’t mind at all. He only let that feeling intensify.

See? Free will. Nothing to do with him.

“Claudia?” He said in a low voice. “Are you all right?” She shook her head. “How’s the nose?”

“I probably look like a UFC fighter right now.”

“You’re beautiful.”

The only light was coming from the open refrigerator door, but he didn’t need light to
feel
her need intensify when he said it. She put the glass down on the counter, shut the door, walked right for him, and kissed him, rising up on her toes. Her lips and tongue were cool from the water. It did not have the same effect as a cold shower.

He held her around her lower back tightly, a groan escaping him that he hadn’t expected. But … he was a little extra worked up at t
he moment. Her stomach was taut but still very feminine against his arousal.

“Take me to my bedroom,” she whispered, pulling back,

He scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing, and while her lips were firmly attached to his he carried her through the darkened apartment, down the hall to her room. He laid her out on her bed, crawling in alongside her.

He had to be careful; he c
ould easily lose her due to her experiences with human men. He made sure she didn’t contact his erection, keeping it against the mattress. He didn’t put his weight right on her at all, instead propping himself up next to her on one arm, leaving one hand free to go wherever she liked.

She needed no warming up whatsoever. Her tongue was working his mouth like a pro, and he almost found it overwhelming.
Almost
. Without hesitation she took his free hand, pushing it down and under the nightshirt she’d gone to bed in. The only thought he had from her mind was somewhere along the lines of
Touch me. Now.