The Sinner by Emma Scott

Twenty-Two

I woke to watery, gray light streaming in from the window. My body felt as if I were anchored to the bed, every part of me utterly drained but satiated.

Cas lay on his back, his amber eyes staring at the ceiling. His hair was rumpled and messy. Human. I didn’t move but just watched him, soaked up his presence because now that I had him back, it was all ending. The clock read a little after ten a.m.

Seven hours. Seven hours and he’s gone.

He’d told me that he’d go back to Ashtaroth’s servitude and there would be no returning to This Side. But there was more he wasn’t telling me. Something worse. A finality that scared me to my bones.

The daylight was like an insult, throwing our limited time together in my face. I remembered Romeo and Juliet, where the morning’s arrival means Romeo has to flee Verona for killing Tybalt. Juliet holds him tight, unwilling to let him go, and pretends the day hasn’t come. It was a playful moment, but Romeo’s response sent a chill over my skin.

Let me be taken. Let me be put to death.

Cas turned his head on the pillow, misreading my expression. “Last night…it was too much. I suspected it would be. Forgive me. I was desperate to have you and—”

“No, last night was perfect,” I said, moving into the crook of his arm, his bare skin warm under my cheek. “I don’t want you to go.”

He pulled me close and pressed his lips to my hair.

“Can you really not come back? Or maybe die and have a new lifetime as a human? Maybe we can find each other next time…”

“I wish that were so.”

“I can’t believe there is no forgiveness for you,” I said angrily, tears pricking my eyes. “I refuse to believe it.”

Cas said nothing but held me tighter. I ran my fingers over his skin, tracing the lines of his scars to the killing stroke over his heart.

“Tell me more about us,” I said. “At the Irish pub—which feels like a million years ago—you told me that our marriage was arranged.”

“It was,” he said. “Marriage in Sumer was more of a business transaction between fathers than anything else. But you and I were different. Our fathers were friends, and our families were close. From the moment we met, there was love.”

“I wish I could remember.”

“I was eighteen. You were fourteen and—”

“Fourteen?”

Like Juliet…

Cas’s chuckle rumbled under my cheek. “It was a different era. I’d already risen in the ranks of King Rim-Sin’s army when our fathers arranged our engagement. Before we could be married, Hammurabi attacked, and I was called away to war for four years.”

“And then you came back,” I said, snuggling tighter to him. “I remember that. But I want the rest of our story.”

“I can give it to you, Lucy.”

I craned to look at him. “Even that last night?”

“That nightmare is best left in the dark.”

“I want it, Casziel. I’m not afraid.”

“Of course, you aren’t,” he said. “You’re my fierce woman. My Li’ili…”

He kissed me, and while there was no icy heat or otherworldly aura behind it, it held its own power. The simple power of a man kissing the woman he loved. My tears spilled from under my closed lids as his mouth gently captured mine, tasting and touching. So familiar. The memory of us was a thousand years old and yet alive in that moment. But unfinished. I wanted the rest of us—our brief love that burned so bright and hot but was stamped out just as quickly.

Like Romeo and Juliet.

Now that my thoughts had latched on to the comparison, I couldn’t stop, and the dread in my heart grew heavier with every passing second. Cas kissed me, beautifully deep and slow, with love and goodbye.

Thus with a kiss I die…

I pulled away, the sobs wracking me. He gathered me to him.

“I’m sorry, Lucy,” he breathed into my hair. “If there was something else to do, I would do it. But I’ve made my fate. I ruined myself when you died and gave myself to darkness. The sins I’ve committed are not washed away by your sweet tears.”

“I’m not giving up,” I said, wiping my eyes. “And we have time yet. Tell me more about us. Our wedding. Was it beautiful?”

His gaze was steady and soft. Sad. “It was perfect.”

“Show me the rest of our story.”

“I will. But not yet.”

He gave me a final kiss and then rose from the bed. My gaze trailed him, taking in his naked body that was perfect, scars and all. Except for that terrible brand burned into his back. It looked better, but the lines were stark and black on his olive skin. He pulled on a pair of boxer shorts from his pile of clothing at the foot of my bed and padded into the bathroom.

I heard the bathwater running, and the scent of lavender bubbles wafted on the air. He reemerged and wordlessly scooped me naked out of the bed, holding me under my knees and around my back.

“Are you going to join me?” I asked as he deposited me into the water that was just how I liked it—a few degrees below scalding.

“No,” he said. “This is for you. For last night.”

“If you insist,” I said with a groan. I lay back, luxuriating in the perfect water. My body was pleasantly sore and aching, feeling as if it had been turned inside out with the intensity of…

Fucking a demon?

I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, a crazed laugh trying to burst out. I’d really done that. Like performing a cliff dive when you’re afraid of heights. Thrilling, death-defying, pushing oneself to the very limits… And you know you’ll never do it again.

Cas took a washcloth and ran it over my face, my neck, under my hair and down my back. Then over my breasts and then lower. Even as wrung out as I was, I couldn’t keep from arching into his touch. But he moved on, running the cloth down the length of my arm, ending with my fingers that he pressed to his mouth. He tossed aside the washcloth and folded his arms on the edge of the tub. I did the same so that our elbows were stacked one on top of the other.

“What happens next?” I asked as steam curled around us.

“I have until five tonight.”

I nodded and realized the only way to survive this was to pretend Cas was going away on a long trip and I wouldn’t see him for a while. Not never again.

Because it’s not never again. It can’t be.

“Is there anything else you want to do?”

He shook his head, his chin pivoting on his wrist. “I want to do whatever you want to do. Or nothing. Just be with you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“You were with me in Japan and Russia, weren’t you? In the other lifetimes?”

He nodded. “Always from afar, wanting to make sure you were safe.”

“My guardian angel, a demon.”

He arched a brow. “I believe the term you hated was bodyguard.”

I laughed. “You probably could’ve been a bodyguard-with-benefits in any of those lifetimes. But you weren’t.”

“No. It would’ve been wrong, to be with you like that.” He held up a hand when I gave him a smart look. “Yes, I have perpetrated deception after deception upon you, but that would’ve been unforgiveable. To use you when I had our history and you didn’t.”

“Or maybe it would’ve given me dreams. The same sense of us knowing each other that I’ve had this entire time.”

“Perhaps. I couldn’t risk it. Back then my appetite for blood and death was sharp. It’s since dulled and now I’m just weary.”

I opened my mouth to ask him what it meant to return to that existence under Ashtaroth, but Cas shook his head and put a finger to my lips, then leaned over and kissed me. The kiss turned deeper, more dire. I had thought my body would never again be ready, but I ached for him in every way.

I stood up, the bathwater running over my body in rivulets. Cas’s gaze drank me in, and I never felt more beautiful or at home in my own skin. I didn’t need Casziel to complete me; his love showed me that I was already whole.

The water drained out. He wrapped a soft towel around me and lifted me onto the bathmat. He took his time, running the cloth over my body leaving my skin warm and dry.

Then he took me to bed.

The hours melted away—too rapidly—as the storm grew fierce outside, the rain battering the windows. Inside raged our own personal storm of anguish and love, ecstasy and despair, as each touch, each kiss, each thrust of his perfect body inside me took us closer to goodbye.

Finally, we lay in the quiet of my place, letting the storm howl for us. My head pillowed on his shoulder, my arm draped across his chest, and him holding me tightly. It was after one in the afternoon, and I was drifting toward sleep.

“Cas? I need to ask you a question.”

“Anything.”

“Where is my mother?”

I braced myself for a hard answer, but he said softly, “She’s with you. She’s always with you.”

“But not like my dad.”

I felt him nod. “How to best describe it… Each human has his or her own family of loved ones, though they’re not always related by blood.”

“Like a team?”

“Yes, a team. And they’re with you through every lifetime, though the positions change, each member taking lesser or greater roles.”

“They sit on the bench or they’re your starting player.”

He nodded. “In many lifetimes, you and your mother were very close. In others, one of you stepped back. But never away. Never away.”

“They’re just in the next room,” I murmured and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Thank you, Cas.”

I couldn’t afford to lose a minute of our dwindling time together, but I was growing sleepier. When his time was up, I intended to do…something. I didn’t know what, but I wasn’t just going to let him walk out the door and into Ashtaroth’s waiting arms.

Casziel kissed my forehead, each cheek, one eyelid then the other. I felt myself drift down. I fought it, but the current was too strong.

“I want to sleep for just a little bit. Just a little. But I want the rest of us. Will you show me?”

“I will.”

“All of it. Our last night, too. Don’t protect me from it, Cas. I’m not afraid.”

“As you wish,” he said softly, and I felt his lips on mine in a last gentle kiss. “I will give you us. Li’ili, my beloved.”

I floated down to sleep and journeyed backward at the same time. Thousands of years to the mud-brick house that is filled with guests come to celebrate. It’s dusk. The lamps are lit and she

 

wears her thick black hair piled on her head, and a dress decorated in gold and blue. Her eyes are lined in kohl and more gold and lapis lazuli glint from a circlet on her brow. The groom steps forward. He is wearing a kilt of leather, his jerkin decorated with gold coins. He lays a heavy necklace around his bride’s neck. When he reaches around to fasten it, their eyes lock; they see no one but each other.

He places a veil on his bride’s head and pours a few drops of scented oils over it. Behind the veil, her eyes glitter with tears.

“This is my wife,” he announces to those assembled.

A great cheer goes up in the front room of the house. Her father—the high priest of Utu—smiles and nods knowingly. Men make lewd jokes. Women nudge the bride and whisper the hope that her new husband’s axe has sufficient weight and heft to it, now that she’s allowed to handle it.

Carried on this tide of lascivious merrymaking, the bride and groom lock hands and hurry upstairs to the bedchamber. A wedding bed of fresh rushes under soft sheepskin awaits. Laughing but with urgency fueling them, they strip each other naked and kneel on the bed, facing each other.

His fierce expression of want softens as he takes her face in both hands. His eyes roam, taking in every detail of her body. Under his armor, he’s as magnificent as she suspected, proudly bearing the scars of battle. She cranes for his kiss, lips parted, breath hot. But he waits, draws out the moment. One by one, he removes the delicate hair clips of lapis and carnelian. Long ribbons of thick black hair pour down her bare back.

Her lips reach for his, restrained by his strong hand.

“Take me, my love. My husband. I’m yours,” she whimpers. Begs. “Spill your seed inside me and I will give you sons. Fine, healthy sons. Strong, like their father.”

He grips her neck, moved by emotion and barely constrained desire. “How have I earned the gods favor, to be blessed with a woman like you?”

She shakes her head. “We cannot know the gods’ will. Just love me, Casziel. Love me as I love you…”

“I will never stop.”

She moves onto his lap, and he kisses her and thrusts deep, breaking her boundary with rough need. A cry rises to her lips, but he drinks it down and thrusts again. Taking her completely. Conquering her. She surrenders and is victorious at the same time. Her hands clutch his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and she rides him fearlessly. The fire between them burns hot in every heated gaze, in every scorching kiss. Bodies move, bronzed skin sweat slicked in the torchlight. Her hair clings to her back; his hands are tangled in it as she comes down onto him. As he drives up into her.

Their love is raw and rough but deep, sinking into the marrow of their bones now that they can finally share their bodies. His devotion to her is complete. Her desire is for him and no one else. They are perfect in their love—Casziel and his wife. They move and breathe and touch as one. One soul in two bodies.

Their movements become more frenetic, more urgent as they drive each other toward bliss. He is darkly beautiful in his lust and tenderness. His animal need and his reverence. He fucks her as he loves her. And she

 

She is me.

The thought—the truth—nearly jars me from the dream or vision, but I fight to stay so that it can flood me completely. Centuries of dammed up love finally breaking free. Somewhere I hear my gasp, as my love for Casziel is all I know or feel. It ceases to hover at the edges of my awareness or reverberate down the long corridors of time like a mournful echo. It’s real and restored to me in all its potent ferocity.

Tears blur the scene before me, but I blink them back. I don’t want to miss anything. I want everything. Every touch, every sigh…

No more watching. Somehow, I will it to happen and I become her. I am

 

me and he’s inside me—huge and stretching. He holds me tightly, protectively, his mouth taking mine, breathing his love into me. Sweat, sex, and the perfume in my hair hang heavy in the air. The scent of his skin, salty and spiced, fills my nose and I want to lick him and bite him, consume him completely.

The pain of our joining is still raw, but I want that too. I want to feel where he marked me. Where he took me for the first time. I’m filled with her fearlessness, her courage. But then, those were always mine, I’d just lost them for a while. Lost myself. Now I’m restored too.

I reach down between us, my fingertips running over his slick cock that is moving in and out of me.

“My warrior.” I draw my finger down one cheek, then the other, my blood his war paint.

His breath catches then releases, like a gust of wind that stokes the fire higher. His hands are exquisitely painful, digging into my hips as his thrusting cock drives deeper and harder. I ride him just as ferociously, taking him to a peak as he takes me to the edge and over. I feel the pleasure in every part of me, erasing all pain. It consumes me until I’m delirious and crying out his name. Because there is nothing but him. My world, in memory and reality, is only Casziel.

And there is nothing for him but me. I see it in the fire burning in his eyes. I feel it in his hands that grip me and hold me tight to him. I feel it in the thunderous beat of his heart against mine, one answering the other.

He comes in me, grunting, his release hot and thick. I’m wrapped around him so tightly, sealing us together so there is no separation. For long moments, there is only the slowing of our rocking hips and our gusting breaths. At last, we’re still. I remain impaled on him, not wanting to feel his absence.

Never again…

“Beloved.” His voice is ripe with concern as he brushes strands of my hair that are stuck to my cheeks by sweat and tears. “I hurt you…”

I shake my head and bury my face against his neck. “No, I’m overcome. I love you so much.”

He chuckles. “My Li’ili is overcome? Now I have lived to see everything.”

I pull back to see him, hold his face in my hands. I’m changing the memory but maybe he’ll understand.

“You are my light. My life. I will never love another as I love you.”

His eyes darken with his own boundless love and lust that ignites at the fierce conviction in my eyes.

“Ki-áñg ngu,” he says. “My beloved. I will love you until the end of time.”

He kisses me. Gently. Deeply. Then his hands slide down to cup my heavy breasts, to knead and caress, then move lower. To where we’re still joined.

“I want this again.”

I nod, and my eyes fall shut as he strokes my aching core of pleasure. My own need to have him is rekindled too, even though I’m raw and sore. I want him again. All night. Every night…

 

But we’re out of nights.

The truth kept coming even after I gasped awake. I saw our last horrifying night in all its bloody clarity.

Babylonians stormed the house, taking us all to the ziggurat. Casziel was already there, on his knees. Torchlight flickered, casting slices of light over his blood-spattered skin. They’d tortured him to the brink of death, but his fire still burned. They brutalized him but he was still fighting. For me. For his family. His sister, his parents, and my father, the high priest—we were all bound and gagged and forced to kneel on the stony floor. One by one, they fell with necks sliced open and blood pouring.

And then it was my turn.

The horrified anguish on Casziel’s face tore my heart to shreds. They hadn’t gagged him, and his screams were ragged as the dagger was laid against my neck. With my eyes, I begged him to give himself mercy. Saving me was impossible. My death was inevitable, but I’d wait for him to join me in the afterlife.

My hand slipped to my belly, not yet rounded—we both would.

But he didn’t understand and blamed himself. Then the blade opened my throat, and my last image was of my beloved screaming, head thrown back, neck corded, eyes bulging, every muscle taut and pulling against his bonds. His scream followed me into darkness…

And then there was nothing.

I shot to sitting in my bedroom, tears brimming in my eyes. The horror of what Casziel had endured wracked me while the love I had for him washed over every bloody memory. I clutched my abdomen.

A baby…

Joy flooded me and just as quickly curdled to anguish. My bed was empty.

“No. No, no, no. Not yet. Please…” I drew a breath. “Casziel.”

Nothing.

“Casziel.”

Only the rain striking the windowpane—closed tight—answered.

Tears of frustration and fear pricked my eyes, but I wiped them away angrily. “No. Not when I just got you back…”

My gaze fell on a piece of paper sitting on my bedside table. I grabbed it, devoured it, even as it tore me to shreds, word by word.

 

My beloved,

 

Now the truth is wholly yours. But somewhere in your deepest self, you’ve always been Li’ili. Brave and fierce and so beautiful, my heart weeps with joy that you were once mine. Forgive me for concealing us, but there is no hope for me. I cannot cross the Veil and into the light. It’s too bright and pure for a sinner like me.

 

You’ll be safe. When I’m truly gone, Ashtaroth will be powerless, and you’ll have others more powerful than me watching over you—loving you. That’s the lesson it’s taken me four millennia to learn: love is stronger than hate. You taught me that. You called my love forth—summoned it—and it rose up through the murky, bloody depths of me and broke the surface. I regret that it took so long; I’d have loved to spend an eternity of lifetimes searching and then finding you, loving you again and again. But I can’t, and you must not let your light go out for me. You’re too bright for one man. There is nothing small or silly about you and never has been. As the poet said, you contain multitudes.

 

And I’d like to think that even in Oblivion, there will be a part of me that remembers loving you, and I’ll know peace at last.

 

I release you, Lucy Dennings. May my eternal sleep sever the chains that bind you to my damnation. You are free.

 

All my love is yours,

Casziel