The Chosen Sin (37 page)

She rose, staggered forward, and knelt before Sante, her fangs already growing longer.

“Do you remember her, Sante?” she asked him. “Do you remember Julia?”

His eyes seemed to flash black for a moment. “I remember them all.”

“Yes, but do you remember
Julia
? She's the one you were friends with before you murdered her. She's the one who probably met you at the door with a smile and a joke, the way she always did.” Daria swallowed hard. “Right before you strangled her to death.”

Sante snarled. “If you want me to say I regret what I did, I do. There hasn't been a day when I haven't. A day hasn't gone by that I don't remember each of those I killed.”

“That's not what I wanted you to say, Sante. You murdered her. No amount of regret will ever bring her back, so I don't want to hear about it. It's done, and all that's left to do is make you pay.”

Rage enveloped his face. “I liked it. Is that what you wanted to hear? It's true, I loved killing all of them even though I'm ashamed of it. Even though I'm afraid one day I might look for the thrill again.” Something moved in his eyes. He held her gaze. “Daria, kill me. Do it.”

Daria's fangs extended into sharp points in anticipation. She moved in to strike, her gaze focused on her target, her life's goal at hand.

Sante's gaze flicked to hers and she hesitated. Resignation shone in their depths now. Her mind flashed back to the unsettling sensation of herself mirroring Sante.

Daria rocked back on her heels.

Sante closed his eyes and grit his teeth. “I would have reveled in your death just now, Daria. Do it. Kill me.” He sighed wearily. “I've lived long enough.”

Julia's face popped into her mind, then the faces of the others Sante had killed that night. A part of her wanted to do it, to strike Christopher Sante's life just as he'd struck theirs, but if she did this, she would lose more of her soul than she already had.

She raised her gaze to Alejandro. Their gazes met, caught, and held. Hope glimmered in their dark depths.

Did he wish she wouldn't do it?

“Now is your chance, Daria,” Alejandro said. “If you think killing him will bring you peace, then do it.”

She looked down at Sante. Peace? No, killing him wouldn't bring her peace, or justice, and it certainly wouldn't bring Julia back from the dead.

“I don't want your blood in my body.” She turned her head and spit in the sand near him.

Alejandro turned him loose with a shove and Sante collapsed face-first to the ground. Daria went motionless, watching him lie there and spit out sand.

From his back pocket, Alejandro extracted a zipstraint, strong plastic restraints that served as cuffs for law enforcement in more casual situations. She had let him keep his life, but there would be no way they'd let him go free. He secured Sante's wrists behind his back. Sante didn't even put up a fight.

But he didn't have to, did he?

Their cover was blown and they were on Sante's turf, with one hundred and fifty dome guards at his beck and call. Even cuffed, how would they arrest Sante and get him out of here? There wasn't much chance of them escaping the dome alive at this point, let alone successfully bringing Sante in.

She turned to Alejandro. “Of course, you do know we have a problem. By now Sante's probably contacted all one hundred and fifty of his guards on a pathway.”

“No. I didn't.” Sante lifted his head and stared at her, looking weary. “I'll go willingly.”

“You? Go willingly? I doubt it, Sante,” Alejandro answered.

“I mean it.” Sante never moved his gaze from Daria's. “It's time to make things right.” Her expression must have revealed her disbelief, because he continued, “I'll confess to the murders. I'll allow myself to be imprisoned.”

“Why?” she asked. “You and doing the right thing have never been intimately acquainted. I find it hard to believe you'd want to make friends with it this late in the game.”

Sante hesitated and swallowed hard. “I can feel the edge of age insanity. I wanted to dance in your blood just now, Daria. I lost control. I'll be dangerous when I go, dangerous to Ari. If you lock me up now, when I go I won't be a threat to her.”

Daria considered him. She'd seen the edge of that insanity when he'd been trying to strangle her. His thirst to spill her life into the sand had been readily apparent, so it was jarring that he was now willing to incarcerate himself to protect another.

“But please leave Ari alone,” Sante added. “Let her stay here, give her a portion of my assets to live on.”

She frowned. “We have no charges to level against Ari. She will be left alone.”

The double meaning of that was not lost on her.

He bowed his head and sighed.

Daria shifted and stared at the back of his bent head. “You're going in not only for the murders of Julia Harding, Vincent Almeda, Trudy Horowitz, Stephen Miller, and Brandon Nichols; you're also going in for distributing carmin, Sante.” She regarded him for a moment. “And I know you have blood slaves under this dome somewhere. We'll find them before this day is over.”

The murders would put him away for life, but she wasn't going to let anything else slide by when she had the chance to charge him. She'd add as much insult to injury as she could before the end of the day.

“Care to change your mind?” Alejandro asked.

He raised his head and held her gaze steadily. “No.”

Not missing a beat, she looked at Alejandro. “Let's get the ABI and GBC in here immediately.”

They had no time to waste. Just because Sante was willing to confess and surrender didn't mean his people would be. They were surrounded by three hundred and fifty hard-core Christopher Sante worshippers.

She started for her dune bike. “We need to get him out of here as quickly and as quietly as possible.”

Alejandro nodded. “Once we get him back to the house, we'll make the calls.”

“I ask one thing,” Sante said. “I'll go without a fight, and I'll keep the others from fighting for me, but I ask you to allow Carlos to take over management of the Shining Way.”

Daria stopped in her tracks, turned, and scoffed. “Carlos will just continue the trade of carmin, Sante. That's not a deal.”

Sante shook his head. “He doesn't know about any of it.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “I had to hide it from him because he'd kick my ass if he knew.” He paused. “He's protective of me and mine, Daria. To a fault. He is not corrupt. He's not the man you think he is.”

None of them were, none.

She considered his words, considered what this place meant to so many people, people like Jia Ying, Rodrigo, and Emmet. This was their home, their one safe place in two galaxies filled with people who feared and hated them.

She licked her lips, hating to give him anything he wanted. “I'll research him. If I find out you're telling the truth, I'll see what I can do.”

“Go ahead. You'll see I am.”

“After I'm certain, we'll take it from there.”

It was true that in the initial research into the histories of Carlos Hernadez and Eleanor Matthews, there had been few warning flags. There'd been no criminal histories for either of them, though Carlos's actions here under the dome made it hard for Daria to believe him clean. Anyway, Sante's word was not to be taken at face value. She would dig deeper.

He closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you.”

“I'm not doing it for you.” The words sounded like the lash of a whip. “I'm doing it for those who call this place home.”

“That's why I want it done, too.” Sante swallowed hard and averted his gaze from hers. “And Ari. Please make sure she's all right.”

Daria started to say, “We don't owe you any favors,” and then stopped. “I will protect Ari as much as she'll allow me to.” Ari Templeton would hate her with the heat of a thousand suns by the time this was over. “Whatever I can do for her, I will.”

“Thank you.”

She turned on her heel and walked to her dune bike. “Don't thank me any more. It makes me want to kill myself.”

 
 
AS they approached the house, Alejandro watched Ari emerge and run toward them, a smile on her face. “Christopher! Oh, god, I was so scared! Did you find—” Her smile faded and her steps faltered. “What's going on? Why do you have him cuffed?” She came to a stop in front of them. “Christopher?”

Alejandro had one hand firmly on Sante's upper arm and wished for a weapon. Daria walked on Sante's opposite side, her expression grim. Sante's body stiffened in the face of his lover's bewilderment.

Guards poured out of the house behind her. He and Daria both shifted position, ready to fight if they had to.

The men took in the situation from afar—their boss cuffed and in the custody of two Chosen they'd thought were on their side less than a hour ago—and moved toward them, drawing their weapons.

“Sante,” Daria snapped, her body going taut.

“Stand down!” Sante barked. “Guards, I'm giving you a direct order to follow the instructions of these two officers of the ABI and the GBC.” He paused and seemed to gather his strength. “I'm being arrested.”

The color drained from Ari's cheeks and the angry forward stomp of the guards died.

“Christopher?” Ari asked again. “What's happening?”

Sante studied the ground for several long moments before he raised his gaze to hers. “I'm doing this because I love you, Ari. One day you'll understand. You and I . . . would have been great, but the timing was bad.” A sad smile flickered across his mouth. “Turns out I'm too old for you after all, baby.”

Ari shook her head, trying to understand. “Too old for me?” She rounded on Daria. “What have you arrested him for?”

“At the moment, he's being charged with the murders of five people, plus the smuggling and distribution of carmin. I doubt that will be all, however. There might be a carmin field around here somewhere, so we can add drug manufacturing. Plus, I expect we'll be including the trafficking of blood slaves to the list soon.”

If it was possible for Ari to go paler, she did. “Are these charges true, Christopher?”

“They are, but that's not the real reason I'm allowing myself to be taken in. I'm going age insane, Ari. I can feel it more and more every day. I need to be locked up . . . for your protection.”

Ari's face twisted. She leaned in, a teardrop rolling down her cheek. Her voice shook. “If you did those things, you deserve to be locked up. I want nothing more to do with you.” She sniffled. “I don't even know you!” She turned and ran back into the house, leaving Sante to sag where he stood.

“Allowing? Did you say you're
allowing
us to take you in?” Alejandro growled. His grip tightened on Sante's arm, rage surging through his veins. “Sante, from day one we were taking you, come hellfire or high water. We never would have backed down. You
allow
us nothing.” He pushed Sante forward hard, making him stumble.

When they reached the clutch of somber, watching guards, Daria divested two of them of their pulse weapons and gave one to Alejandro. Then she ordered the men to disperse, and the three of them entered the house.

Daria cast Alejandro a look as they walked into the foyer. They were thinking the same thing. How long would it take for the guards to raise the other men and return? They'd been ordered by Sante to stand down, but the looks on their faces when Daria had taken their weapons had been anything but passive. They would have to make their call and move Sante somewhere else under the dome to await reinforcements.

The house was filled with the soft sound of Ari's tears. Alejandro herded Sante up the stairs and into the living room with the butt of the pulser he held. Sante's former lover was on the couch, curled up in a ball.

Daria stared at Ari for a moment, her expression sad, then turned to Alejandro and said, “I'll make the call.”

Ari lifted her head. “You! This is all your fault. You came here, deceived us, pretended to be my friend. Now you're taking away the only man I ever loved.”

“Would you rather have lived in ignorance?” Daria asked. “Would you rather have continued on, not knowing what a monster your mate is? Ari, really, is that what you wanted?”

Ari's lower lip trembled, but she said nothing in return.

“We came looking for you,” Alejandro added. “Your father reported you kidnapped. We thought Sante had taken you against your will.”

Ari's eyes widened. She sputtered for a moment and then her face melted into acceptance. “Bastard. He used my disappearance to fuel sympathy for his cause.” She paused, closed her eyes for a moment. “I should have expected no less. He sent that man to kill me, didn't he?”

“I'm sorry, Ari,” Daria said softly. “I really am sorry this happened to you.”

“Don't speak to me. I don't want sympathy, especially yours,” Ari snapped in response and turned away, her sobbing beginning again.

With a heavy sigh, Daria turned and left the room to summon reinforcements.

Alejandro guided Sante to sit on the couch and stood near him, one hand on his procured pulser, ready to fire. He didn't trust Sante, even if he had surrendered, not an inch, not with Daria . . . never.

Christopher Sante could say he regretted the murders all he wanted, and it might even be true . . . a little. But Alejandro had seen the look in his eyes right before stepping in to help Daria. Her death would have appeased some black, insane part of him that demanded death as a tribute to his ego.