The Sinner by Emma Scott

Eleven

When Casziel returned from wherever he went at night, he brought back a foul mood that permeated the entire apartment like a fog and lasted for the rest of Sunday. He refused to tell me what was wrong and snapped at me when I tried to make conversation. All the warm words and longing looks from the pub must’ve been my imagination. It was hard to believe he’d stroked my hair or told me my happiness was worth everything. Worth risking his soul…

When I felt recovered enough from my hangover, I went grocery shopping for the week, buying a mountain of food for the remaining nine days of Cas’s “visit.” I tried not to think about the days ticking down, but the thought wouldn’t leave me alone. I wondered how you could miss someone—someone you’d just met—before they were even gone.

My earlier conversation with Cole didn’t help. But even if Cole were right—and he wasn’t—what could I do? Casziel was leaving. Permanently.

I returned from the store to find my demon sprawled on the couch, a slant of late afternoon light falling over him. He was watching TV while stuffing his face with frozen peas straight from the bag. An empty jar of mayonnaise and a spoon littered the coffee table.

Breakfast of champions.

“So…I guess we need to talk about tomorrow when I go to work.” I set the two grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Is ‘fake relationship’ really what we’re going with, or did I conjure that in my drunken stupor?”

“It is the best plan,” Cas said, not looking up from his show. Dr. Phil, by the sound of it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because—”

“That’s the plan, Lucy Dennings. There is no other.”

I frowned and put a new head of lettuce into the fridge. “It’s just that…I’m worried about you. It’s super nice that you want to help me out with Guy, but this is your eternal soul we’re talking about.”

“Super nice,” Cas said icily. “Yes, that’s exactly what I am.”

I grit my teeth and wished my father were there to ask for advice. Then I remembered he was, in a matter of speaking.

“What does Dad think of our plan?”

For long moments, there was only the crunch of Cas’s frozen peas, then his toneless reply, “He’s in accord.”

I pinned the demon with a hard look. “You’re lying.”

He arched a brow. “Is that so? You know me so well, do you?”

It was a rhetorical question, but something about it bugged me. Being with Casziel was like constantly living with that feeling you’ve forgotten something but can’t remember what. I did know him. Or at least it felt like I did. The tone of his voice, his facial expressions, the tilt of his head…they all had a familiarity about them that made no sense. It was why I hadn’t thrown him out of my house a hundred times.

I don’tknow him at all. We’re bonded,I rationalized. I said his true name and now he’s mine.

“He’s mine.”

A flush of heat swept over my face, and I almost dropped a jar of peanut butter. If Casziel heard me, he didn’t show any sign; he was too absorbed with his TV show.

A demon trying to improve himself with Dr. Phil.

I smiled behind my hair.

When the groceries were put away, I pulled my desk chair next to the couch. “Dad really likes our idea?”

Casziel sighed. “I don’t enjoy repeating myself.”

“Does he think it’ll work?” I persisted. “Not that Guy and I will live happily ever after… I mean, does he think it’ll help you?”

Cas seemed to listen but kept his expression neutral. “Yes,” he said finally. When I started to protest, he shot off the couch. “I’m going out.”

“Cas, wait,” I said, standing too. “About tomorrow…what do we do for our plan? Do you, I don’t know…send me a bouquet of flowers to get the office’s attention? I saw that in a movie once.”

God, pathetic.

“I’ll take care of it.”

He reached for his black leather jacket on the back of the couch, and that’s when I saw another gash on his wrist, a twin to the first. Two lines of sliced, burned skin in two perfect rows. The next morning, I realized with a sinking feeling, there would be three.

“Cas…”

“Goodnight, Lucy.”

Then there was a raven in my apartment and then there was nothing.

I ate dinner alone and then curled up with a romance novel. But the words couldn’t hold me, and I started to drift. My thoughts scattered but I saw the woman in the field with the black braids and she

 

enters the city walls—bricks made of mud—and into the chaos. A parade for the soldiers returning from war. It’s been four years; she’s been counting each day, yearning for her warrior’s return. Her blue eyes scan the crowds, hopeful to find him and terrified she won’t. Black-haired men and women wave cuts of colorful cloth, cheering and singing hymns to Utu and Innana. The acolytes burn tall staffs of sage as they walk among the warriors marching toward the ziggurat in the center of the city.

The woman pushes her way through the throng, following the marching soldiers, scanning their faces. But her beloved is no foot soldier. He’s their commander, and the woman’s soul sings louder than any hymn when she sees him at the head of the regiment. His back is to her—new scars mar his bronzed flesh—but she would know him anywhere. He is half her heart, and he is alive.

Fierce pride and fiercer desire burn through her as she follows the march to the steps of the ziggurat. Priests—her father among them—perform the Šu-il-lá i, raising cupped hands in supplication to the gods, chanting incantations while an acolyte makes an offering. The gelded bull lows in panic, and then his blood flows rich and red on the stone altar.

The king steps forward, the sun glinting off his headdress of gold and lapis. He raises his arms wide and declares the day a holiday to celebrate the glory of Innana who has graced them with victory. The speech drones on; the woman grows impatient. Men in the crowd mutter that the enemy isn’t defeated, only delayed. She scoffs. There should be no talk of Babylonians on this victorious day—it’s her beloved’s valor that the king should celebrate.

She will atone for her pride later. Now, she wants only him. Soon, they will be joined; they’ve paid the price in long years of separation and war. But that ends now.

Ki-áñg ngu…My beloved.

He must hear her silent call; his head turns, and somehow, he finds her in the cheering crowds. His helmet shadows his face, but a sweet ache blooms between her legs for she can feel how he's watching her. He’s been waiting too. To have her. To wed her. To take her as his and claim her under the laws of gods and men for all time.

The king calls for her beloved to stand before him. Ale is poured over his muscled shoulders, and it flows like liquid gold. The chanting voices rise as he is celebrated for bringing home victory. Prosperity. Safety.

And as the priests and the king heap their praises on him, she knows his gaze strays to her, heated and full of longing. Of love, for though he may have taken others to his wartime bed, she is the one he comes home to…

 

I came awake with the woman’s anticipation and desire burning under my skin and between my legs.

“God, what was that?”

It was just as clear and real as the Japan and Russia dreams—I could feel the thrum of the city, the people, smell the green scent of the river, apricot and peach trees, almonds and figs… What Casziel had told me in the pub about his past came rushing back to me.

“Was that…Larsa?” I asked my empty room.

And the woman?

Cas had said his existence might infiltrate my subconscious through our bond. Something about that hadn’t sat right with me then and it didn’t sit right that morning either. But he wasn’t around to ask, and a glance at the clock said I needed to get ready for work.

I showered and dressed in my usual work “uniform”—a skirt, shapeless sweater, and a little mascara. I made coffee and drank it slowly with a slice of cantaloupe and a bagel with cream cheese—and still no Casziel.

“The Weekend of Weird might be officially over,” I muttered, ignoring the pang in my heart.

Silly Lucy is now safely tucked back into her silly little life, sneered a voice. Deber or Keeb. Or more likely just my own rampant insecurities.

I waited as long as I could, but I was going to be late and Casziel obviously wasn’t going to show. I grabbed my bag and headed out.

The E train was on time and I got off at Lexington and 53rd, Midtown, and rode up the elevator to the ninth floor of The Conway building. Ocean Alliance, under Executive Director Kimberly Paul’s leadership, had flourished in its three years and now we had the entire floor to ourselves.

“Hi, Dale,” I said, mustering a smile for our receptionist.

“Morning, Luce.” He smiled back. “How was your weekend?”

I coughed. “Oh, same ole, same ole.”

I hurried away and dove behind the partition in my cubicle. The office was open-concept, with lots of plants and sweeping views of the city. Each of the forty or so employees’ desks were partially walled off and all departments intermingled. Jana Gill—the head of accounting—was next to me, as was Abby Taylor, Chief Marketer, who created all of our commercials and outreach videos.

I was head of logistics, having been promoted three months in. It wasn’t very challenging after my bioengineering degree, but it didn’t require me to talk to anyone. And after my conversations with Casziel, it occurred to me that I took other people’s Big Ideas and researched them to see how they could be made into reality.

That hadn’t bothered me before, but that morning it did. It bothered me a lot.

Both Abby and Jana were already at their desks, their chairs pulled close to chat about their weekends. Jana gave me a warm, friendly smile. She had her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and dark circles under her eyes—she’d recently had a baby boy.

Abby gave me a scrutinizing once-over. Her dark brown hair was fresh from a blowout, makeup immaculate, and her clothing up-to-the-minute stylish. She reminded me of the models from the opening montage of The Devil Wears Prada while I was Anne Hathaway in her shapeless cerulean sweater with bagel crumbs spilled down the front.

“Heya, Luce,” Jana said. “You look pretty today.”

“Oh, um…thanks,” I mumbled, taking my seat and stowing my bag under the desk. “How’s Wyatt?”

“He’s lucky he’s so cute,” Jana said, smiling tiredly. “I don’t remember what sleep is.”

“What about you, Luce?” Abby asked. Somehow her “Luce” sounded condescending while Jana’s was endearing.“You look a little tired yourself. Long night? Anyone we know?”

I blushed and busied myself organizing my already organized, immaculate desk. “No, no. I had trouble sleeping last night.”

“Of course, you did, honey. I’m just teasing, obviously.”

Because it’s impossible that I might’ve spent the night with someone.

A current of sandalwood cologne wafted over us. “Morning, ladies,” said a deep voice.

My cheeks immediately went up in flames, like an autonomic reaction. Guy Baker had his arm slung over the top of Abby’s partition, a confident, easy smile on his tanned face. The executive VP wore jeans, a plaid button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and Timberland hiking boots. His sandy-blond hair was a little rumpled, as if he’d spent a long night with a woman’s hands running through it.

“Hello, Guy,” Abby said, her knowing gaze sliding between him and me in a way I didn’t like. “You’re looking dashing this morning. What can we do for you?”

“Kim wants every department head in the conference room in ten.” He grinned. “Our fearless leader is all work, no play. As usual.”

“That woman will work through her honeymoon if we let her,” Jana said fondly.

“Truth,” Abby groused. “I still can’t get over no bachelorette party. It’s practically criminal, considering there are two bachelorettes.”

“We have four days to change her mind.” Guy turned his mega-watt smile my way. “See you in there, ladies.”

His cologne lingered in the air, and my gaze lingered on him. Normally, I’d be kicking myself for not mustering even one word of greeting or small talk. But aside from my involuntary blush, Guy’s presence hadn’t cast its usual spell over me. And I couldn’t help but compare Guy’s rugged, blond, outdoorsy-ness to Casziel’s sleek, dark polish. The two men couldn’t be more different.

Casziel’s not a Guy. He’s a man.

“There she goes.” Abby shook her head at me. “God girl, if pining were an Olympic sport…”

My cheeks burned. “No, I wasn’t…I mean, never mind.”

“Knock it off, Abby,” Jana said. “Guy’s a straight-up hottie. If I weren’t happily married with offspring, I’d be all over that too.” She got up from her chair. “On that note, I need more coffee. Anyone?”

We both declined and Jana headed to the coffee/pastry/fruit station Kimberly provided for us every Monday to ease us into the start of the week.

“I think it’s impressive,” Abby said, rolling her chair back to her desk with a little kick of her heels. “How long have you worked here? Two years? You’re like that sad girl in Love Actually. The whole office—including Guy—knows about your crush.”

“Mind your own business, Abby,” I muttered. But I’d said it so softly, she hadn’t heard.

“You should tell him,” she said. “Just walk up to him and say, ‘Guy, it’s been two years. My body is ready.’”

I jumped out of my chair. “We don’t want to be late for the meeting.”

The conference room was a glass-walled space with one long table and ten chairs around it. The screen was for projecting stats and slides from the work Ocean Alliance did all over the world: cleaning plastic garbage out of the water, monitoring oil drilling, and doing coastal preservation. 

Kimberly Paul was already there. She dressed less like an executive director of a successful nonprofit and more like a stylish factory worker in short-sleeved, army-green coveralls with heavy boots. Her blond hair was tied up by a Rosie-the-Riveter bandanna. A cluster of colorful precious stones glinted on her left ring finger.

“Good morning, good morning,” she said in her rough Demi Moore voice. “Come in and get settled everyone. As you’re all aware, I’ll be out of the office for one week starting next Monday—”

The room broke into whistles and cheers, which she waved off with a laugh.

“Are you sure you’re ready to let us kids have the house all to ourselves?” Guy asked with a grin.

“I trust you not to burn the place down, but if you want to give me a happy honeymoon, you’ll keep the Big Idea train rolling at full steam.”

The first of every month, Kimberly wanted presentations from the staff about innovative ideas: connections formed with other companies, celebrities we could turn into allies, et cetera. Next Monday was the first of the month.

I turned my shoe idea over and over. I’d worked out most of the logistics already, including cost, design, and environmental impact. The only thing left to do was to take the plunge and present it. While the others tossed around a few pitches, I inhaled slowly. There was too much at stake to not speak up, but…

They’re going to laugh at you.

You’re not prepared.

It’s been done before.

I swallowed a lump of nerves and tried to do what Casziel had told me to do—stop feeding my demons. I knew they wouldn’t magically disappear, but maybe if I talked louder than they did, I’d drown them out.

“I have an idea,” I blurted from my seat at the end of the table and regretted it immediately. The entire room went silent, nine pairs of eyes fell on me.

Abby snorted. “You’re going to present on Monday? Really?”

“Yes, really,” I said, firming my voice.

“Wow, Lucy, that’s wonderful,” Kimberly said. “Can we get a preview?”

“I…I don’t have my materials with me,” I said, cheeks burning under Abby’s dubious smirk and Guy’s curious gaze. “But I can put it all together and present on Monday.”

“Well, I’m thrilled,” Kimberly said. “And a bit disappointed that I won’t be there to hear it.”

“I’ll record it for you,” Abby said, suddenly all sweetness. “You won’t miss a thing.”

Oh God…

It was bad enough I’d be speaking in front of the group. Having Abby’s camera pinned on me was going to be a hundred times worse. But I tilted my chin, refusing to show her any reaction. My demons had gone silent.

“Perfect!” Kimberly clapped. “Next up on the agenda—”

“Your bachelorette party,” piped up Hannah from fundraising. “As in, there isn’t one.”

Kimberly laughed as the group booed. “I know, I know. But neither Nylah nor I am into that kind of thing.”

“What about Buzz Night?” Guy said. “We could bump it up this week. You invite Nylah and we’ll make it a pre-wedding celebration.”

Buzz Nights were the last Friday of every month. The entire company went out to a bar or club or restaurant and hung out together, so we weren’t just “coworkers.” Aside from one awkward excursion right after I was hired, I never went.

“I don’t hate the idea,” Kimberly said, tapping her chin. “But aside from tomorrow night, I’m booked up with wedding plans, and Nylah’s parents are flying in…”

“Tomorrow night it is,” Guy said. “And we promise we’ll all stumble in Wednesday morning on time, no matter how much fun we drank…I mean, had.”

Kimberly laughed. “How could I say no to that? Thank you, all. You’re a special bunch. Like family.” She looked uncharacteristically emotional. Then she cleared her throat. “Now, down to actual business and it’s not good. There’s been another disaster.”

She detailed how a cargo ship caught fire and rained down millions of plastic pellets along the pristine beaches of Sri Lanka. “Like plastic snow,” the local officials called it. A disaster of epic proportions.

“I can be ready to go with a team by next week,” Guy said.

Aside from being our VP, Guy led squads of volunteers for cleanup efforts all over the world, doing the hardest work. These trips were the fodder for my fantasies, and I waited for that tight, anxious feeling in my stomach that this was the time he’d ask me to join him. It wasn’t there.

“Thank you, Guy,” Kimberly said. “Honeymooning feels frivolous in light of this news, but if I postponed my plans for every disaster, I’d never go anywhere. Okay, next up…”

The meeting proceeded for the next forty-five minutes, and when it was over, Dale from reception was waiting outside the conference room.

“Hey, Luce, you have a visitor.”

“I do?”

Never in two years had I had a visitor and the entire room knew it. Everyone looked across the open floor to reception, and there was Casziel. He wore a black T-shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a stylish black hoodie. An aura radiated off of him, an intangible magnetism that permeates a space, the same way a famous person strides into a restaurant and sends a jolt of energy into the room. Conversations hush. Eyes widen. Hearts skip a beat.

Or at least mine did. Several beats, in fact.

Most of the department heads filed back to their desks, but Abby and Jana stuck to my side like glue.

Abby gaped. “Who. Is. That?”

Cas caught us staring and was apparently too impatient to wait. He strode up, his glare trained on Guy who was standing behind me, wrapping some things up with Kimberly. The rest of the room blurred out at the edges until there was just Cas. Like a mirage or dream come to life. He’d been in and out of my imagination for the last three days, but now he was here. In front of my entire company. They could see him. It was all real.

“Hi,” I said softly.

“Hi,” he replied, tearing his demonic stink-eye off Guy. His gaze went to me and held on, no trace of his earlier coldness. “My apologies for intruding—”

“You’re not intruding at all!” Abby said, sidling up beside him. “Well, well, well, Luce. Who is your friend?”

“This is Cas, um…”

“Abisare,” Casziel said.

“Right. Cas Abisare.”

His Sumerian name, I thought, and whispers of last night’s dream came over me.

Jana gave him a friendly smile. “Where are you from, Cas?”

“Yes, where on this earth did you get those eyes?” Abby asked with less subtlety.

“Sumer,” Cas answered.

I coughed. “Iraq. Sumer was in southern Mesopotamia, which is now present-day Iraq.”

“Thanks for the geography lesson, Luce,” Abby muttered, then turned her full attention to Cas. “How interesting! I’ve never met anyone from Iraq before. You’ll have to tell me all about it. I have, like, a million questions.”

I hid a smirk behind my hair. Take a number.

Guy and Kimberly had migrated toward us, both staring. Guy thrust his hand out. “Guy Baker. Cas, was it? Good to meet you.”

Cas smiled thinly, leaving Guy’s hand suspended in midair. “Ah, the infamous Guy Baker. Lucy has told me so much about you.”

“Has she?” Guy withdrew his hand. “Only good things—”

“About all of you,” Cas added dismissively. “Nothing but praise for her coworkers, striving to make a difference in the world. A commendable endeavor.”

I shot him a look not to overdo it, but the team seemed enraptured. None could peel their eyes from him, as if they weren’t quite sure he was real.

Take a thousand numbers.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cas,” Kimberly said, starting for her office. “Lucy, perhaps you’d like to show him around?” She shot a look at everyone else: Stop staring and get back to work.

Abby swatted my arm. “Lucy, you’re such a tease, to keep your friend all to yourself. Cas, you must stay for lunch and tell us all about yourself.”

“I cannot stay,” he said. “I was merely in the neighborhood.”

“Dinner, then,” Abby said. “Let’s all go to dinner tonight!”

Jana waved her hands. “Not I. I have to pace myself with social endeavors these days.”

“Then the four of us,” Abby said. “Guy, you’re down, right?”

He shrugged with a grin. “I could eat.”

I looked to Casziel. I’d never been out with Guy socially. For the purposes of our plan, this was a good thing. Monumental. “Do you want to?”

“How could I say no?” he muttered with all the enthusiasm of someone about to undergo dental surgery.

Abby beamed. “Then it’s settled. The four of us will go out. Get to know each other better. And of course, Cas, you’re coming to Buzz Night tomorrow too.”

She was gazing at him with the kind of brazenness I’d never have, but Abby may as well have been a potted plant for all the attention the demon gave her.

“Of course,” he said. From behind his back, he presented me with the single red rose. “I saw this and thought of you.”

“Oh.” I’d read about fluttery stomach butterflies a hundred times in my romance novels, but I’d never felt them until that moment. I took the rose. “Thank you, Cas. It’s beautiful.”

“It almost does your beauty justice,” he said. “Almost.”

I could feel glances being exchanged all around me, but I was falling into the honeyed depths of Casziel’s eyes and not doing a thing to stop myself. If he were putting on an act, it was a flawless performance.

He pressed the back of my hand to his lips. “Goodbye, Lucy.”

“Bye,” I said faintly.

“What a strange guy,” Guy said, watching him go. “Old school manners.”

“He’s a gentleman,” Jana said. “There’s a shortage.”

“Hmm.” Guy gave his head a shake. “Anyway, I’m behind on some phone calls. Ladies… See you tonight, Lucy.”

“Yep. See you.”

A seed of curiosity had been planted; Guy had never singled me out like that when saying goodbye. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said my name. And we were going to have dinner? The “fake relationship” plan was off to a good start and yet…

I could still feel where Cas’s lips had been on the back of my hand.

“Old school is right,” Abby was saying as we went back to our desks. “Cas smells like the inside of a pyramid. Like frankincense and myrrh or something.” She pulled her chair in front of me like a detective grilling a suspect. “Okay, spill it. What’s the story?”

“There isn’t much of one,” I said. “We met on Friday, and we had drinks on Saturday. That’s all.”

“That is not all. I refuse to let it be all.”

“Did you know he was going to show up here?” Jana asked and nodded at the rose still clutched in my hand.

I set it in the half-drunk bottle of water on my desk. “No idea.”

“But you like him?” Abby persisted.

“I…I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, yes, I like him. But it’s not like—”

“How you like Guy,” Abby finished. “Good on you, babe.”

“Good on me—?”

“I’ve never seen Mr. Baker look anything but cool and collected. He had no idea what to make of Cas.”

“He was very intrigued,” Jana agreed as she and Abby pushed their chairs back to their desks.

Abby shook her head. “That is not how I expected this morning to go.”

I glanced at the single red rose. “Me neither.”