The Sinner by Emma Scott

Seven

The sun was bright and high, yet it felt like a shadow had dropped over me. We’d arrived at Macy’s and Casziel headed for the men’s department. I hurried to keep up and joined him at a table where he stood examining ties.

“What did you mean, there is no love left in you?”

“I meant exactly what I said.” He held up a black silk tie. “This.”

“That is eighty dollars,” I said. “Casziel—”

I stopped short and gasped. On our walk, he’d taken off the jacket, revealing arms of drool-worthy perfection, scars and all. But now I noticed a thin gash on the inside of his wrist, like a tally mark.

I grabbed his arm, examining the cut. It had been cauterized, the edges of it blackened and burned. “This is new. From last night?”

Casziel withdrew from my grasp. “It’s nothing.”

“Cas—”

“Have you not seen my scars?” he asked with a slight edge to his tone. “What’s one more?”

“Did you do this to yourself?” I asked in a small voice.

“In a manner of speaking,” he muttered, perusing men’s dress shirts. “Don’t you have business in this store?”

“Well, yes. My boss is getting married this weekend. We all have to go.”

“And that’s a chore?” Casziel said, not looking at me. His words dripped with bitterness. “If memory serves, weddings are joyous occasions.”

“Social gatherings with a lot of people aren’t my thing.”

“As we’ve established. Go, Lucy Dennings. Find your dress.”

I bit my lip. “Cas…”

“Go.”

He turned his back on me, and I had no choice but to head to the women’s department and put his wound out of my mind. For now.

I found a pretty sundress in lavender with little green and pink flowers. It was perfect for an outdoor wedding in Central Park. Simple, with an empire waist that made me feel like Daphne Bridgerton.

Or maybe Penelope. And Guy is my Colin.

The thought made me feel a tad bit better about having to go to this wedding. I’d been dreading it for weeks, even though I loved my boss. Kimberly Paul was fun and kind, and her face lit up every time she mentioned her fiancée, Nylah. Their wedding was going to be perfect and romantic, set at the Central Park Boathouse with views of The Lake. But for me, it would be like any work function: hours of smiling and walking around as if I had somewhere to go instead of sitting in one place, alone. Jana Gill, from the accounting department, would try to include me in her group, but after a little small talk, I’d fall into awkward silence and drift away before anyone asked about my plus-one. Or lack thereof.

Casziel could be my plus-one.

I giggled at the thought. If Guy were Colin, then Casziel was the Duke of Hastings. God, I could just see the looks on everyone’s faces that the handsome man with the gorgeous amber eyes had come with me.

A clerk rang me up and bagged the dress. I returned to the men’s department to find Casziel waiting impatiently with a saleswoman who couldn’t stop making eyes at him. He had changed into a new pair of black jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and a lightweight black leather jacket.

My breath literally fled my chest at how handsome he was, but I recovered fast, thanks to the huge pile of clothing at the woman’s register.

I pulled Cas aside. “I can’t afford all that. I mean, I have savings but—”

“Then you can afford it.”

“But it’s my savings.”

“What are you saving it for?”

My jaw worked. I had no answer.

“Money is to be spent, Lucy Dennings,” Casziel said, frowning. “Weddings are to be attended. Life is to be lived.”

Before I could say another word, he nodded at the saleswoman—her nametag read Marcy. She eagerly got to scanning pants, shirts, jeans, and a suit jacket, all in black. I started to protest, then Marcy folded a Henley shirt that promised to highlight every line of Casziel’s chest and arms.

Okay, I sort of need to see him in that.

While Marcy ran my credit card for an amount that made me light-headed, my eyes drifted again to Cas’s arm.

He felt my attention and sighed. “I appreciate your concern. In fact, I’m relying on it. But not now.”

I squared my shoulders. “Yes, now. Where did that come from? Tell me the truth.”

“You don’t need to hear the truth, nor do you want to.”

“I do…”

His eyes hardened. “How can I make this more plain?” he bit out. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

I recoiled and let my hair fall over my face, shielding myself from Marcy who was madly scanning clothing, eyes averted.

“Fine,” I murmured. “Forget it. Sorry I asked.”

I moved a few steps away, pretending to be interested in a rack of wallets. I felt Cas move close, smelled the exotic, spiced scent of him that was like nothing I could identify. There was a soft touch under my chin and then he tilted my head up, his eyes heavy with regret.

“Forgive me, Lucy born of light. I’m more beast than human after living so long in the dark.”

To my utter shock, his hand, heavy and strong, cupped my cheek. His touch raced through me like wildfire, down my neck, between my shoulder blades, over my breasts, tightening my nipples. The shivery heat made me gasp.

“My being here has a price,” he said. “That is all you need to know. Understand?”

I nodded faintly, feeling as if time was standing still, and there was nothing left in the world but Casziel’s rough voice and his soft touch on my skin.

“Never apologize for who you are.” He brushed the hair from my face. “In your kindness lies my salvation.”

I could’ve drowned in the longing in his eyes. I felt drawn into their timeless depths, falling through centuries, sunrises rising and nights falling…

Marcy cleared her throat and Casziel seemed to realize what he was doing. He snatched his hand back and looked away, regret hardening his features. The moment snapped so fast, if not for the fading tingle over my skin, I’d almost wonder if I’d imagined it. Like the raven, and the black-on-black eyes, and the feathered wings, and everything else. Every minute with Casziel was a battle with my own sense of reality. Like living in a lucid dream; I was sure I was going to wake up at any moment and he’d be gone.

And I’ll lose him all over again.

The thought nearly stopped me in my tracks. It didn’t make any sense, but then again, I reasoned, none of this did.

We left the store in silence and headed to a nearby Mexican restaurant. The bright colors and warm scents from the kitchen helped dispel some of the otherworldliness of the moment in the department store. Everything seemed so…normal.

Except for Casziel’s appetite.

I watched him over my taco salad as he scarfed down a burrito, two chicken tamales, and an entire sizzling fajita platter.

“But you don’t need to eat,” I said, grimacing as he followed a swig of beer with a gulp of Horchata.

“All demons crave food, time, and sex.”

Another flush of heat burned through me. “You crave time?”

“There is no time on the Other Side. Not as you know it. No neat, linear march of weeks, months, and years. It’s a nebulous cloud in which every yesterday can be tomorrow, and a thousand tomorrows are happening all at once. On This Side, the monotony of immortality is broken with every new sunrise.”

I leaned my cheek into my hand. “Despite your questionable table manners, you’re something of a poet, Cas.”

He glanced at me, then focused on his food. “Cas?”

“Is that okay?” I toyed with my napkin. “It just started to feel more…right.”

And familiar. Because everything about Cas was growing more familiar to me with every passing minute. I lifted my head to catch him watching me. He looked away.

“There’s nothing poetic about wasted time,” he said irritably. “The ticking clock is supposed to make life more exciting and precious, yet the great majority of humans squander it. If you lived forever, you’d be an even lazier lot than you are now.” He pushed his plate away, muttering almost under his breath, “And Cas is fine.”

I grinned. The demon was sort of adorable when he was contrite.

And sexy.

It was unescapable. Casziel had an otherworldly magnetism, true, but he was also just flat-out hot. I cleared my throat. “Okay, we’ve covered time and food, but demons also crave…um…?”

“Sex?”

Heads turned. Someone’s fork clattered to their plate.

I hunched lower in my seat. “Say that a little louder; I don’t think the chef heard you.”

Cas shrugged, unperturbed. “Yes, we crave sex. Some more than others. One of my subordinates, Ambri, for instance, missed his calling as an incubus. But then, he’s not interested in being saved.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a risk of forfeiting my redemption if I—pardon my Gallic—fuck a human.”

Holy crap, the way those last three words zipped down my spine and burned like a flare between my legs stole my breath.

Get a grip, girl.

I took a long pull of cold water. “Why? Because sex is considered a sin?”

“It’s not sex but the creation of Nephilim that’s forbidden. The offspring of demons and humans.”

“There are Nephilim here?”

“Of course.”

“Would I know them if I saw them?”

“Very likely. They tend to gravitate toward politics.”

I laughed, and his lips tilted in a small grin as the waiter dropped the check.

“Maybe your redemption is getting a job to help me pay for all this,” I said after paying the bill and tucking my credit card back in my wallet. We stepped out onto the street. “I didn’t have ‘bankrolling a demon’s Earth vacation’ on my bingo card this week.”

“This is no vacation.”

“So you keep saying,” I said, smiling to myself as Cas wordlessly took my dress bag out of my hands and added it to those he carried. “But I’m not feeling a real sense of urgency from you about your ten days.”

He shrugged. “It serves no one if I’m desperate and panicked every waking minute.”

“True, but…”

My words trailed as we came to a street corner. Our light was red, and we stood with a small group of people waiting to cross. A homeless man was leaning against the pole. Shirtless, skinny, he had shaggy hair that fell over his eyes. He mumbled a request for spare change, but no one waiting at the corner answered. No one even looked at him.

I dove into Cas’s bag that held the “donated” Metallica shirt. I gave it to the homeless man, then rummaged in my wallet that had nothing left but a ten-dollar bill.

“Thank you, miss,” the man said with a grateful smile that was missing a few teeth. “Have a blessed day.”

“You too,” I mumbled back, my throat thick, and crossed the street. Casziel fell in step beside me.

“The shirt off your back,” he said quietly.

“He needed eye-contact almost more,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Being seen…someone acknowledging that you exist matters. It matters a lot.” I inhaled shakily. “Never mind. What now? We still need to figure out a plan for you.”

Cas was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I wish to go exploring,” he said finally.

“You just said this wasn’t a vacation.”

“I changed my mind.”

“See, this is the lack of urgency I was talking about.”

“The answer will come. I haven’t seen the city in many years, Lucy Dennings.” He peered down at me. “I’d like to, one last time.”

The depth of his gaze and the longing that lurked beneath it made my heart pound.

Because this is his last chance for redemption. It’s a big deal and has nothing to do with you.

I vowed to stop going all soft and fluttery every time Cas pinned me with those amber eyes of his and remembered he was a demon. A demon who had, in his own words, committed a multitude of sins. But he’d chosen the right human to help him. He deserved a chance and not just because he was gorgeous. Or because I caught him looking at me sometimes the way a condemned man looks at the world on his last day of freedom.

Ah, Silly Lucy is back, sneered Deb or K. Silly Lucy with her silly romantic notions from her silly books—

Casziel whirled on me, snarling. His eyes flashed pure black, and for a split second, I saw the demonic form lurking within the beautiful human man beside me. The cold dread I’d felt when I’d first found him reached for me with icy fingers. Like what I imagined Harry Potter felt when a Dementor tried to suck out his soul.

The voice went silent, and Cas’s eyes reverted back to amber. He blinked innocently at me.

“Shall we?”