The Sinner

The anguish in Lucy’s dark blue eyes fades. Her gaze sharpens, then widens with fear; I’m still in my demonic form, one hand gripping her wrists, holding her tight to me.

“Cas…?”

“Usa nganu,” I murmur. “Usa nganu. Sleep, my love.”

Her eyes fall closed and she slumps in my arms. I gather her to me and press my nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. I stay there for long moments, feeling the beat of her heart against me and the softness of her body.

You have to let her go.

I lay her down gently on her bed and smooth the locks of dark hair from her face. A different face in this lifetime but no less beautiful in my eyes. And recognizable. I would know my Li’ili in any form; she is the other half of me. I should stop inflicting myself on her, but I can’t. She is my weakness. The sweetest vice. Lifetime after lifetime, I find her and protect her.

Because I was your ronin, Lucy. I was your Shura.

I curse myself for showing her so much of us. I hadn’t lied that it was my existence spilling into hers—our souls are entwined. But Hammurabi ruined me when he killed her, and I surrendered to damnation because I couldn’t save her. Her eyes were pleading, and then they opened her throat…

Now I’m a fiend. She’s an angel. She won’t find love again until she’s free of me.

But gods, kissing her…

I can still feel her mouth on mine after so many millennia—soft and sweet, warm and wet. I taste her on my tongue, feel her body pressed to mine, eager and willing, wanting to take me inside her. I fight the overwhelming urge to climb into her bed, to wake her and finish what we started…

But I can’t. I shouldn’t.

And Ashtaroth is waiting.

I transform into a raven and take flight through the open window. I’m not a meter from the apartment when the pain wells in me, anchoring me down. The rage and anguish. Touching and kissing Lucy have awakened it like a beast.

I want my wife.

I change course, tilting my wings to circle back to the empty lot behind Lucy’s apartment. I take my demon form and let my huge wings bring me to the ground, where I hunch down and curl with rancor, the vile infection of my corruption. I let loose an inhuman scream of rage that no living ears can hear. My hands make fists in the dirt, grabbing handfuls. The grains fall from my grip, slipping away.

“Her life. I let it slip through my fingers…”

“Oh, jeez, don’t be so dramatic.”

I stand and whirl, my sword already drawn…then bite off a curse and return it to its scabbard between my wings.

“You again,” I snarl.

“Me again. Can’t get rid of me, can you?”

He’s leaning against the wall, glowing with an aura of blue-white light. His hands are tucked in the pockets of his Hum-free Bo-gart and a hat is pulled low over his brow. He clenches a pipe in his teeth, and his shrewd but kind eyes regard me through the curling smoke.

“What do you think?” He tugs the brim of his hat. “I always felt the fedora completed the look, but Lucy refused to be seen in public with me if I wore it.” He chuckles. “Kids.”

“What do you want? I’m late for a meeting.”

His jovial smile tightens. “To offer your pound of flesh? Your meeting

can wait. I have something to say, and you will listen.”

I start to protest but like the obedient son-in-law I’d been, I nod grudgingly.

“That’s better. I just have one question: What the hell are you doing?”

I squat on my heels and fold my wings tight to me. “I’m doing the best I can. But I shouldn’t have kissed her. I should’ve left—”

“You should’ve stayed. You should love her. Let her love you.”