Sin Eater (40 page)

Vance kept talking, but it was all elevator music to the sudden thoughts that
she
was having. And they all stemmed back to the evening when she had helped Iola prep for her date with Vinnie. Going to the drugstore, picking out make-up, meeting Damien, and coming out of the store to see what she had immediately assumed to be Damien’s car, since it went with the clothes he wore. The car he drove her home in one night.

A black BMW X6-M.

“Hey Vance, thanks for filling me in. I’m going to turn in early, okay?”

He sounded a bit surprised, and Claudia then realized she had cut him off mid-sentence. But she couldn’t for the life of her remember what he’d been saying, and he just replied, “Oh. Okay. We’ll see you day after tomorrow, Sergeant?”

“If not sooner. Thanks.” She cut the connection before he could respond and started opening drawers to get dressed.

She had no idea where her mind was going, but eventually it got stuck on the night Portia Torregrossa had died. Claudia hadn’t seen Damien that night. She’d been at work, and he’d gone … where? She’d run
into him the next day, and they’d spent most of said day in bed. Where the hell did he live? How did he afford those suits? That car? He’d been at her place almost exclusively the last few days … except for that night. So he seemed to have no job yet had money to toss around like beads at Mardi Gras.
And
she hadn’t seen that car since.

Deep breath. Damien, a killer? Sure he had no markings that indicated he’d been in a fight. But Claudia’s instincts were firing off like crazy, and she’d learned to put a lot of trust in them.

Shit. She’d brought him into this building. With Iola right across the hall from her.

She stood up, pulling on jeans, and as she did so the heavy metal amulet brushed against her skin, suddenly feeling very wrong and not comforting in the least. She grabbed it, pulling it off over her head, and put it o
n the dresser, then as an afterthought she opened the top drawer and tossed it inside, shutting it away from sight. She didn’t even want to look at it.

Just as she pushed her head through the neck of a long-sleeve T-shirt she heard a cold voice say from the doorway, “So, starting to wonder about your new lover then, hmm?”

She spun quickly to see who the hell was in her place without her knowing about it. A tall, slight man filled her doorway, his head shaven clean, his eyes a steely light grey that almost didn’t register.

“How’d you get in here?” She demanded, not eyeing up her holster on the dresser. Of course she knew exactly where it was and how easy it would be for her to lunge for it.

“Not important.”

“It’s pretty important to me.”

Then the guy stepped closer and all of Claudia’s muscles clenched. She went for the gun but … she just
couldn’t
. Her muscles tightened to the point of pain, and they just
wouldn’t
move for her. It wasn’t excruciating, it just hurt the more she struggled against it.

There was the sound of a dark, disturbing chuckle, and the next thing she knew the man’s face was inches from hers, his eyes filling he
r vision and his voice right inside her head.

You will be my own little
frustro
,
the voice said, booming around in her ears.
You will bring him to me so I can take over.

And then those eyes swallowed her attention, the pupils widening to fill his entire eye socket, and then the blackness was all she knew.

Voro left the BK in a decidedly foul mood. Raphael had been characteristically honest: Voro
didn’t
like the solution to saving his dear, sweet Iola from a human lifetime of sin eating.  In fact the solution gave him the scratch. His reaction had been to blame Raphael’s suggestion on the fact that the well-coiffed angel was still miffed that certain fragments of Christianity didn’t count him as an actual archangel. Then Voro felt bad about that, even though trying to tread on an angel’s ego was a lost cause. Angels just weren’t built the same as Sin Eaters.

Thank you, Captain Obvious. Fantastic insight.

Voro decided to head back to the apartment block to check in on his
frustro,
which was likely becoming more and more a
terrible
idea with each passing hour, but what else could he do? If this thing was going to happen, if this Jasper dude was going to show up at some point and try to kill him, then kill Iola, Voro had to lay in wait to make sure at
least
one of those events didn’t happen. And if Essum somehow managed to weasel his slimy way into the mix, Voro sure as
shit
was not going to walk away and let it happen.

Outside the stairwell leading up Voro cast his mind upwards, trying to scan for Claudia’s brain waves. There was nothing there, she must have gone out. In the hallway outside Iola’s door he caught a whiff of vanilla and jasmine, so he knew Iola was still home.

He knocked on Claudia’s door lightly, but didn’t hear a response. Not sure why, he tried turning the knob, and was surprised when the door swung inward.

Yeah, a cop that doesn’t lock her apartment door when she leaves. That
set off alarms.

Voro stepped inside, his instincts immediately firing at top speed. He could smell that Claudia had been here, and he also caught a trace of peppers, like she’d been angry. And something else. Burnt rubber; an acrid, smoky and totally unpleasant odor.

Fear. Utter terror. Claudia had been here, and something had scared her.

Voro stalked down the short hall to her bedroom, and sure enough a few drawers were pulled out, the lamp on the bedside table was knocked over, her watch was broken on the floor in front of the dresser.

His amulet, he just had to focus on it and he could find her …

As soon as he thought of it, he felt an internal pull to the dresser, and he had a sinking feeling. Sure enough his hand went to the top centre drawer, pulled it open, and there it was, staring back at him. The
Oryx
sitting before him, totally useless now to find Claudia.

Voro slammed the drawer shut. Why would she take it off? Maybe she took it off to shower and someone had intercepted her before she could put it back on. But who would be able to actually kidnap her …

Suddenly his senses were overloaded with the feeling of total foreboding. He felt malice in the air, which would account for Claudia’s fear. The permanent feeling of unease and …
wrongness.
He knew one being that left that kind of funk in a room, whether he was vapor or solid-form. It wasn’t a smell; it was a signal of his intent.

Essum had been here.

Voro wanted to throw a tantrum and hurt something, but that was incredibly impractical. Essum wouldn’t permanently hurt Claudia until he’d gotten what he wanted, so it would be a while before Claudia was in any real danger. Essum was nothing if not resourceful. He knew what his assets were.

That meant he was waiting somewhere for Voro, right? There would be signs, Voro just had to make sure he paid fucking attention at the right moment. Getting worked up and kicking things would likely impair his sense of observation. Which had taken a beating
lately, come to think of it.

So there was no need to worry Iola, and no need for him to go looking for a fight. He should stay where he was, and wait for the trouble to find
him
.

Iola had been slumbering in the peaceful oceans of utter calm, half aware that Vinnie was next to her on her sofa, lazily tracing lines on her leg as he watched TV with the volume very low. As she slipped in and out of a deeper sleep, her heart was full of contentment and her body was totally, blissfully relaxed.

That is, until the nightmare came back.

She felt it grab hold like a bolt catching and holding, the calm coolness quickly being replaced with uncomfortable warmth and a feeling not unlike fear. Anxiety.

Dread
.

She wanted out. She needed to open her eyes. But the warmth surrounding her held her body in place exactly as it was, like her joints were made of wax and the warmth had made them ooze out and gum up the entire contraption of muscle, bone and sinew. She was a puddle. And she couldn’t see a thing but dark.

Things brushed against her legs, but paralyzed as she was she could only tell herself it was nothing, nothing was going to hurt her here. It was a dream … just a dream. It had to end soon.

Oh Iola … it will be ending very soon.

She wanted to weep. This voice in her head was so cold and terrifying … and she’d heard it before. Somewhere … where was that?

I have a friend of yours, and I won’t kill her, as long as I get what I want. And it’s not even you … I want that stranger that’s moved in across the hall. I need you to bring him to me.

If she could have, she would have bit her lip. Because she was feeling something else now, and if she had the ability she would have been begging it to stop.

It’s only going to get worse from here on out. But if I don’t hurt her, even just a bit, he won’t be able
to find her and bring you to me.

Shit, oh Christ. It was Claudia. Iola could sense her as plainly as if she was in the room with her at that moment. This prick had Claudia …

Iola ... don’t do it.

Iola sat up straight, gasping. Next to her, Vinnie jumped a foot off his rear end, giving a slight bellow like she’d totally caught him off guard.

Iola blinked a couple times, convincing herself that she actually had woken up, that this wasn’t some new level of the dream. Vinnie pressed his hand to her shoulder in comfort, frowning in concern. “Iola … are you okay? What is it?”

Iola pressed her eyes shut, but her stomach was rolling with the feeling of what she’d just experienced. Vinnie waited patiently, and as she was settling her stomach she became aware of a terrible odor, like a gas leak or a septic system backup.
Sulfur
.

Vinnie smelled it
, too. “Man … where’s that coming from?”

Iola opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “We need to find Claudia.  She needs me.”

Her head was echoing as she stared through Vinnie, wondering how the hell they were going to do this.
Iola ... don’t do it.
It had been Claudia’s voice. And she was in terrible pain.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. But if anyone has an idea … it’ll be Damien.”

Claudia’s head snapped to the side, and she tasted blood in her mouth. Even her teeth were ringing with the force of the impact from Essum’s fist.

She wished she could spit out the blood, but the gag
only allowed her to swallow the warm coppery fluid and tell her stomach not to get sick. She had no idea how long this had been going on for, but when the creepoid in front of her had paused between punches, she had no delusions about it being all over. No, he was making a telepathic phone call to Iola. And she’d been on the other line, listening in.

She didn’t question her sanity, and she didn’t question whether or not it was real. It was
definitely
real. Her eye swollen closed and the newly loosened molar proved that just fine, thank you very much. And if she was losing her mind … maybe it would just be short term.

She didn’t recognize this dim apartment she was in, bound in a dining room chair, gag
expertly tied in place, her bonds cutting her skin in a perfect amount of looseness that makes you think you can get out, only allowing you enough slack so that as you strain the cord can dig in deeper. The one thing she wished
was
impaired was her olfactory. The place stunk like days-old refuse, dead vegetation and putrid meat.

Claudia couldn’t recall how she got there. She
did
remember the guy standing in front of her right now, breathing heavy with fury, glaring down at her. He’d been in her apartment; he was the one making hamburger out of her face.

“When I want your input, I’ll take that rag out of your mouth. Until then, you keep your thoughts to yourself.”

Claudia made no motion or sound of agreement, but he walked away, crossing the one-room kitchen and living area to sit on a recliner. He sat watching the television, and although the volume was low she knew it was
Two and a Half Men.
The one where Charlie proposes to Chelsea, if memory served her.

Claudia took a few calming breaths. Her entire body ached, and the room was so stuffy. The heavy curtains were drawn across the windows, and the heat from the sun that did manage to get in was trapped in the room with her. Her stomach was not happy. Her jaw was not happy. Her entire face was miserable, come to think of it.

She gave a few more tugs at the twine that held her arms to the chair, painfully twisted behind her. No give. The knots didn’t budge.

She sat quietly now. She’d been inside Iola’s mind. She didn’t know how, but she’d felt a certain recognition coming from … somewhere. Likely from Chrome Dome’s mental loudspeaker. Iola had heard her. Iola had been worried about her.

Claudia didn’t feel better knowing that. And if this freak wanted Iola to go to Damien to bring him here in exchange for Claudia … what the hell were these two guys up to?

What
were they, period?

Jasper parked his car in the same spot he usually did when he came to watch Iola’s window in his less-proud obsessive moments, but this time everything seemed different. He wasn’t here to get all moon-faced about her; he was here to help her.

Hopefully, to protect her.

He locked the car doors with the key fob as he crossed the street, and got as close to her building as he ever had: he rang the buzzer for her apartment on the panel next to the security door.

A voice came on, one he immediately recognized and felt all the better for hearing. “Yeah?” It was Iola.

“It’s … it’s Jasper.”

Pause. “Jasper?”

“Yeah.” His heart was pounding so hard the blood was singing through his ears, so he almost missed her cursing under her breath slightly. “Iola, please let me up. I can explain everything about what happened with Claudia. I swear it.”

She gave a choked laugh of disbelief, but she didn’t cut the intercom, either.

“Please, Iola. You can go get Claudia and we can talk with her, too. There’s something I’m mixed up in, and it’s not good. But I would … it would kill me if you got hurt. Please. I need to talk to you.”

A long, agonizing pause again. “Okay. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

He had the door wrenched open as soon as it buzzed him in and he took the stairs two at a time until her was on Iola’s floor. As he came through the fire door at the end of the hall, the door to Iola’s apartment swung open. He was about to greet her when a man stepped through the opening, a bit taller than Jasper, with a very young-looking face. But the set of the guy’s jaw put aside any suspicions that he was in any way “wimpy.” He was selling distrust like it was going out of style.

The stranger pointed to the door across the hall. “Iola’s calling Claudia right now to warn her. Knock on the door, and move slowly.”

Jasper nodded, admiring the guy’s commanding presence. Some guys were lucky enough to just demand a person’s respect without much effort.

He raised his hand and rapped on Claudia’s apartment door, then stepped back towards the fire door again. He didn’t want to crowd the guy that was standing guard in any way.

Actually, as they waited for what must have only been fifteen seconds with just the sound of Claudia’s phone ringing through the door, Jasper was starting to feel … twitchy. His clothes were suddenly itching him. His skin itself was crawling.

The air wasn’t agreeing with him, if that made any sense. And he was pretty sure Prince Valiant was crowding
him
, even if the guy hadn’t made a single move towards him.

He heard a slight shuffle, and looked up to see Iola standing behind her protector. The look on her face as she saw him shamed him more than he would have thought possible, and he immediately ducked his head and began weeping.

Fucking Essum.

He was sniffing to get himself under control, but his gut was rolling and his head hurt and he felt like something stuck to someone’s shoe. He couldn’t make himself small enough to escape being noticed.