Sin Eater (15 page)

“That’s another part of the draw. But the worst part is … you can’t just avoid her. She’s drawn to you as much as you are to her. You can’t even distance yourself, she will seek you out. And for some reason we can’t sleep with them.”

That made him take a different train of thought. ”Really? What happens?”

He held his hands out as if to say
Hello?
“Your dick falls off. Then you die, retard.”

“Really?”

Essum broke into giggles again. “No. I’m just messing with you. We just
can’t
. No matter how you try, something always happens to stop it, get in the way. Ruin the mood. And we can’t even touch them. It burns. Like their skin is trying to purify that very
contact
. Blisters, acid burn. It hurts.”

He thought back to kissing Iola’s hand. His lips hadn’t blistered. But he’d had that burn on his hand. Yes, it had healed quickly. But it was the lightest of touches
…

Essum was still talking. “Don’t forget, they come from a pure place, and we don’t. They can’t have us sullying their little fluffy-tailed spies.” Then Essum became thoughtful. “They’re different from other humans. They can influence their own kind, slightly. They can ward off danger to themselves. They can hold others at a distance when they’re uncomfortable. And … they are absolutely delicious. They are the ultimate temptation.”

“This sucks.”

“And don’t think you can save her in any way. Because after the trap is complete and you are gone … the
decipio
will kill her.”

Iola woke to a strange sound, and she couldn’t possibly be hearing what she thought she was. But … what else could that be?

Her room and Claudia’s room shared a common wall, since they were at the end of a corridor and their apartments wrapped around the front of the building. So … common wall. The bedroom. Awkward.

Claudia wasn’t kidding when she said she’d be the first to know if Iola got laid. The reverse was also true. Iola was staring at the ceiling as the sounds started off soft, but they were definitely … cries. Claudia was trying to be quiet but … she was failing on a grand scale.

There was a pause, and Iola rolled over to her side, closing her eyes and trying to go back to sleep. Then the sounds started again, more intense and desperate. And louder.

Holy shit. Either Claudia was really worried about Damien’s self-esteem, which was highly unlikely, or she was really getting the ride of her life. By a
guy
.

Well, if Iola could have a moment of considering switching teams, Claudia could definitely be forgiven a moment of weakness against the
walking sex that was Damien Talon.

Iola flopped over on to her back again, sighing. How long could that go for?

When a male voice joined in for a couple of the cries of ecstasy, Iola bit her lip and closed her eyes. Damien … she’d know the voice anywhere. Even though he was with her friend at that moment, the sounds he was making … she wanted him making those sounds while he made her cry out like that.

She felt guilty about the fact that she’d been out that evening with Vinnie, and here she was, eavesdropping on the world’s best sex ever … but the presence of Damien’s voice just the width of a wall away … she felt like shit for it, but she touched herself anyway. She was only human, after all.

He couldn’t believe this. He’d headed to a cocktail lounge after hitting that doctor
into a wall, and no one had even followed him. Then he’d ordered a drink, realized he had no cash, but they never asked him for money.

Talk about luck.

Then as he’d watched a woman at the bar get annoyed for being ignored by the men in the room, he thought to himself that she wasn’t half-bad, he sure wouldn’t kick her out of bed.

As he’d had the very
thought
, she’d turned on her bar stool, her long legs crossed in front of her, and she leveled her gray eyes right at him.

That was fifteen minutes ago. Now, here he was, balls deep in the men’s room as she was moaning and hollering random words and sounds. He knew how she wanted it, he knew what he was doing … and he was good at it.

He’d never really been that good at it before.

He’d begun to think she was faking, so as he concentrated on her, he became … aware of her. Her emotions, the effect his body was having on hers. And as he was just getting
into his rhythm, he could have sworn she said, “To the left ... hard.” But she couldn’t have said it because she was sucking his tongue out of his mouth at the time.

He shifted his stance to angle himself to her left, and he increased the pace and … then he just held on. She came fast and hard. He thought she could probably break his dick in half. But then it had passed, and she was still good to go.

When he came it was with her third or fourth orgasm. As his body was calming and he was reluctant for her to get into the whole awkward, “Here’s my number” conversation, she stepped down off of him, smoothing her hair and leaving the stall with just a “Thanks.”

He braced himself against the wall with one hand, trying to catch his breath, then he pulled off the condom in exhaustion. Of course he noticed that he was coming fucking maple syrup again. But that had felt even better than the last one.

Whatever had happened to him … he had to believe it was for the better. People were doing what he wanted, and apparently he was now a rock star when it came to sex.

He was starting to think he might be okay with all this, however it had happened.

He left the club, walking down the street with a bit more backbone then he’d ever experienced before. Of course he was likely grinning like a complete moron, but who gave a shit.

There was someone behind him. He could almost hear them going through his pockets, wondering if he was a VISA man or had a MasterCard hidden in a wallet somewhere.

Good luck
, he thought.
I’m broke as fuck. Have fun robbing
me.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, pushing him
into a recessed doorway. He hit the wall hard, but instead of it hurting, he got pissed. He spun on the guy behind him … check that, two guys. One of them was pulling a switchblade. The other had his hands in the front pocket of a heavy metal band’s tour hoodie.

Oh shit.

“Wallet,” Switchblade barked. “Now.”

His rage was bubbling, and in a voice that even surprised him he said, “No. Go fuck yourself.”

Switchblade was taken aback, stepped forward and raised his weapon. Did Switchblade think his eyesight was failing?

“I see it,” he spat. “Very nice. Vending machine at the mall?”

“Listen fucker, I want your wallet and no lip.”

He reared one arm back shoulder level, and his fist shot out so quick he barely saw it. It was flying past him and then embedded in Switchblade’s face.

Like
, in
the guy’s face. His nose gave way, totally inward, and he dropped. All his menace, all his stench and loathsome
essence
just … stopped.

Like he was dead.

He looked down at the ground, then up at the metal fan, who was now looking at him like he was insane. He took a step towards the guy, who mirrored with a step backwards. His hands came up, empty.

“What the fuck … what’s with your eyes man?”

That made him pause, then metal head decided to turn and run. That pissed him off too. He just …
shot
a death wish at the guy’s back. The kid’s legs stopped working, and he stumbled clumsily to the ground.

It’s like he could track what was happening in the guy’s cerebral cortex. His legs didn’t follow commands, his heart was shutting down, and his lungs were refusing to draw air. The guy’s own body was killing itself. His mind was whipping around in a frenzy, recalling pointless shit like field trips to a dairy farm. The birth of his little sister. The first time he’d gotten laid. The first time he’d stabbed a guy in juvie.

Wait. How the hell could he see this?

He rubbed his eyes, but the images stayed there, even when his eyes closed. Then, like someone had yanked the cord on a movie projector, it all faded to black.

He opened his eyes slowly, and the kid in the hoodie was lifeless on the sidewalk, open eyes straining upward, seeing nothing.

Had he
seen
what the guy was seeing? Had he actually
done
that to him?

His hands started to shake. He began to hyperventilate.

He’d wanted the guy dead, and here he was, definitely dead. He’d
wanted
that woman to take him to the bathroom with her, and she did it. He’d
wanted
the medical clinic staff to accept that his name was Mr. Chang without seeing any ID, and they had.

Holy crap. People were
definitely
obeying his unspoken commands.

His hands stopped shaking. His nerves smoothed right the fuck out. And he grinned.

This was going to be so fucking
fun
.

At ten o’clock the next morning Iola gave up trying to sleep in, threw back her covers and made herself a pot of strong coffee. She started getting eggs ready to scramble when there was a knock on her door.

She checked the peep hole before opening her door, and it was a man in a cheerful yellow and blue golf shirt and matching hat, holding something wrapped in colourful cellophane.

She opened the door, returning his pleasant smile.

“I have a delivery for Iola Day.”

“That’s me.”

He handed her the purple package, then tipped his hat and left.

“Bye,” she said weakly, then shut the door and reengaged the locks. She put the package on the kitchen table, opening the top. Inside was a potted African Violet.

She frowned. That’s a weird plant to give someone.

There was a small card inside, so she reached inside to pluck it from the leaves. She popped the card out, smiling as she read it.

“Iola, it turns out your name is also Greek for ‘violet-coloured dawn.’ Good morning. I’ll be thinking of you. Vinnie.”

She smiled widely, feeling her heart swell. She ripped the plastic away from the pot, and carried it over to the window while reading the plant care instructions carefully.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a form on the street below suddenly duck
into the alley right across from their building. She couldn’t see anything remarkable about them … but she
felt
them. No, that was ridiculous. She was
aware
they were there, and she really thought they were up to no good. She could tell by how the pounding of her pulse got louder in her ears, and how a cold breeze seemed to graze her neck, raising gooseflesh on her arms.

But that was silly. She was just freaked out because of what happened to Claudia, right? Seeing bad guys where there weren’t any. The police had carted that guy off with them last night. Her instincts were just terribly overactive.

Iola put her new plant next to the one she’d nearly killed a few days ago, smiling to herself again. The thought of Vinnie made her all aflutter, and she couldn’t wait to see him again.

Aww shucks,
she thought as she skipped back to the kitchen.
I’ve got a boyfriend
.

When he’d seen her gorgeous face and bright green eyes come to the window he had to beat feet to get back in hiding. But just at the sight of her, his heart swelled.

And so did his cock.

Fuck
, okay, that usually stirred at the sight of her, but he couldn’t just walk around rockin’ an erection like this. It was like his libido was in complete overdrive.

The night before
, after he’d killed the two would-be muggers, he’d gone home just as the hot broad across the hall from him was coming home from a rough night. When she’d seen him in the hall, her eyes had widened and she almost breathed in deeper just to get a whiff of him. He was in complete shock and disbelief. This chick had never even said “good morning” in the hall to him, and here she was, planting her back against the wall, tilting her head, licking her lips and eyeing him up like a diamond necklace.

He had sex with her three times, and it was just as good as with the chick in the bathroom. Better, even. She couldn’t get enough of him. He’d had to kick her out of his place when she started nodding off while riding him like a pogo stick.

And he’d
still
woken up at full-mast. And it hurt, it was throbbing like hell. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was blue balls. But that
so
couldn’t be the problem. In the shower he’d done a little manual relieving, glad when the swelling went down and he could be on his way.

But the sight of
her
, up in that window … Christ, he could almost smell her. It was like vanilla cake with an exotic icing. And his jaw was aching for a bite.

He shoved his hands through his ha
ir. Strange that this would be so stressful: every female he saw he wanted. And they all knew it and they were all willing. This was going to kill him.

Oh, but what a hell of a way to die.

He looked back up at
her
window, but she was no longer in sight. That thing that had a mind of its own stayed put in his pants, behaving itself. Maybe he should just head home for a while. As long as he didn’t run into anyone else, he’d likely be fine.

Next to him, her mouth parted as she breathed through a sleep that was starting to loosen its grip on her, Claudia was in a weak dream that included a trip to the beach when she was little. He could almost smell the sun on her skin. He knew that smell.

She was happy. She was content.

Voro put a hand behind his neck, liking the feel of her leg wound across his left knee, trapping him against her. She was incredibly warm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent the night with someone, but she’d been scared last night when she thought he was leaving. He’d woken her when he left the washroom after his shower and she called him back to bed with her.

He’d been there ever since, watching her.

Claudia was classically beautiful, with the eyes and full lips that about 80% of the world’s population would say was attractive. Her hair was long and glossy. Her body was thin but so incredibly strong. He’d really liked the feeling of those leg muscles under his hands, and especially pressing against his shoulders. Or the way her abdominal muscles had sprung into sight as her hips rolled under him. Her skin had been so soft in comparison to that muscle.

Her nightshirt was still on, but he could feel the swell of her breast against his arm. They were very full, almost like they didn’t fit her lithe frame, but who the hell had ever complained about breasts being too big? They were soft as pillows. They were gloriously real.

He thought about what Essum had said. That he was such a girl because he tapped into them when they were at the peak of pleasure, and the tie didn’t sever completely. That it was
their
afterglow he was feeling.

That made sense, actually. He felt like even though he always took off and never saw them again,
theoretically
wiping him from their very memories, it still felt like it
meant
something.

Claudia’s head tucked tighter
into her pillow and she closed her mouth to swallow. She was beginning to ease out of sleep. The warm smell of sunshine on skin was very strong now, and he had to smile to himself. This was definitely all ego trip for him. But who cared? He was a self-serving asshole. It was in his nature.

Her head moved forward towards him, her chin and lips contacting his bare shoulder. That surprised her, and she stirred slightly, her eyes squeezing tight, then opening very s
lowly. As he watched her wake the memory of the previous evening flooded back to her. The smell of her contentment faded slightly. Her hand went to her black eye and swollen cheekbone, and she groaned.

He took her hand away from her face and offered her his most consoling smile. “Good morning.”