The Sinner

Right before my eyes, his demeanor shifted. The worry left his expression, fell away like a mask, leaving him cold and stony. Empty.

“Cas?”

Slowly, a smirk curled his lips, and he heaved a sigh. “I suppose the game is up. A pity. You’ve been a delight, Lucy Dennings. The most entertainment we—Ashtaroth and I—have had in long years.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He grabbed a glass of red wine from a waiter’s passing tray. “You know,” he said conversationally, “humans are fools, but most have sense enough not to fall so thoroughly for our machinations.”

“Machinations…”

“But you are astonishingly naïve. Gullible.” His smile became a sneer as he sipped his wine. “Silly Lucy. What a treasure of amusement you have been.”

The blood drained from my face, and I took a step back. “What is happening right now? What are you doing?”

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” he said in a sing-song voice and gave me a mocking bow. He straightened, and his wicked smile fell away, leaving a countenance of pure malice. “I am the Nightbringer. King of the South. Slayer of men and archduke of hell.”

“No…”

“Yes.” The demon’s eyes flashed black, and a cold wave of dread washed over me. “I am as you found me, Lucy Dennings.” He held up his wine, swirling the red liquid in th

e glass. It thickened until it became like blood. “A creature of the night. Of the damned. Commander of legions…”

The glass was suddenly as big as an ocean, the wine swirling like a vortex, taking me down, down. Red all around me—the sky, the clouds, the ground was muddy with blood. A battlefield. And demons—hairless and slavering like rabid dogs—raced across the wasteland, thousands upon thousands of them. More filled the sky, their wings black, their screams drilling into the center of me.

At the rear of the legion, Casziel rode in a chariot drawn by horses, the flesh hanging off their bones, flapping and showing rotted tendons and yellow eyes. His black eyes were as merciless as his whip, his wings outstretched like an endless night.

I saw all this, while at the same time, an image drifted over the first. Superimposed. A battlefield under a blue sky. Human men raced along a field, swords drawn, their faces curled in rage. Humans and demons blurred and merged, the sky was blue and then bloody again.

And I understood what I was seeing. Casziel led demons on the Other Side, while the humans were on This Side, and the Veil was the mirror that reflected them both. I watched in horror as Casziel drove his legions of demons across the landscape, whipping them into a fury. And on the other side of the Veil, the fury seeped into the human men, and they fought and died…

I gasped and staggered a step back, blinking out of the vision. “Stop. Why are you doing this? This isn’t you—”

“No?” Cas cocked his head in mock curiosity. “Who am I? One of the heroes of your stories, willing to do anything for his lady love?” His voice turned sinister, his eyes flashing black again. “I told you before, Lucy Dennings, I am not, nor will I ever be an angel.”

I shook my head. “No…”

His gaze went to something over my shoulder. Abby stood at the railing, overlooking The Lake. She twiddled her fingers at Casziel suggestively, and he smiled back, promise in his eyes.

“Did you ever wonder where I spend my nights?” Cas asked. “Whose arms I fall into? Whose legs part for me? Whose warm cunt I sink my cock into—”

“Stop it,” I cried. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” he inquired, and every single thing I thought I knew about us was disintegrating in the cruelty in his eyes.

No! I know what I saw. Who I am…

“I know what you’re doing,” I said. “You’re trying to push me away. To protect me from Ash…from him. It won’t work.” I sucked in a breath. “I-I’m your wife.”

Casziel stared and then, to my horror, he threw back his head and laughed. “My wife? You?” His laughter died and he moved in close, all seething malice and barely constrained disgust. “My wife was fierce and brave. She didn’t hole up in a small dark room, living her life between the pages of books. She was remarkable in every way.” He moved even closer, brushing his nose against my cheek to whisper hotly in my ear, “The only remarkable thing about you, Lucy born of light, is how easily you are fooled.”

It felt as if the floor had fallen out from beneath my feet to the center of the earth. My hand went to my heart that was breaking.

“No. Don’t…please.”

His face was impassive. Cold. He sipped his wine with a final shrug that dismissed me completely. “It’s what we do.”

“Uh, hey. Am I interrupting something?”