The Sinner

My heart clenched with sudden pain.

He’s saying goodbye.

“Can we please get a drink now?” Abby griped.

The Lake was growing gray under a heavy sky. Jana and Brian hung back to talk to some people, while the four of us headed for the bar. Abby slung her arm through mine and slowed me down while the men went ahead.

“I’m not feeling the loose cut of your dress, but the cleavage makes up for it. Great rack, babe. Guy is going to flip.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked without energy. “He hasn’t said a word to me.”

“Of course not. Why would he when you’re sticking so close to Cas, staring into his eyes like that? You looked like you were about to kiss.”

My fingers went to my lips. A flicker of…something came and went. Abby was shaking her head.

“I think you’re safe but don’t do it again. I’ll run interference for you, and just watch how fast Mr. Baker comes running.”

“Interference…?”

We joined the men at the bar.

“You look pretty, Luce,” Guy said, and Abby mouthed I told you so.

But his friendly grin showed no signs of the drunken devotion he’d had at karaoke. “Something to drink?”

“Water, please.”

“Borrrring,” Abby drawled. “Come on, Luce. Live a little.”

“Nope, I’m good,” I said, my voice uncharacteristically firm. I didn’t believe for a second that I’d drunk too much wine the night before, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Good idea,” Guy said. “I’ll stay sober with you. Abby?”

“Vodka and soda for me,” Abby said. She wedged herself next to Cas, hip to hip, and gave him a seductive grin. “Vodka makes me reckless. How about you?”

He turned a flat gaze on her. “It gives me a headache.”

I almost burst out laughing and took a swift sip of water. Abby pouted but recovered quickly. She linked her arm in his. “Maybe you just haven’t found your liquor,” she purred. “Or the right person to drink it with.”

Cas glanced at Guy. “Maybe not,” he said with a faint smile, and my laughter drained away.

We took our drinks and headed back out to rejoin Jana and Brian. Baby Wyatt was awake now, blinking sleepily at the scene around him. Kim and Nylah had come outside too, wading through well-wishers as they made their way to us.

“Beautiful ceremony,” Guy said. “Congrats, you two.”

The rest of us echoed his sentiment and then Casziel bowed low.

“Šùde níñ-mí-ús-sá. My best wishes for a joyous life together.”

His voice was low and deep, his native language flowing off his tongue like rich wine. Everyone stared, charmed but confused, no doubt feeling that peculiar sense that something was…off.

Abby broke the silence with a screech. “Oh my God, what was that? Iraqi?”

“It was beautiful, whatever it was,” Kimberly said, exchanging smiles with Nylah. “Thank you, Cas.”

“I believe Arabic and Kurdish are spoken in Iraq.” Guy frowned a little. “I’m no expert, but that didn’t sound like either.”

Because it wasn’t. I’d learned in that anthropology class at NYU that Sumerian was a language isolate. It had no connection to other languages. No roots and no branches.