Chapter SEVENTEEN
"You know, you could just kill Kat off."
"Kish!" Sin snapped, wanting to splinter his servant across the wall behind him.
"What? It's been a full week since she left and all you've done is sulk like a dying cow."
"Dying cows don't sulk."
"How do you know? Do you make it a habit to hang around dying cows?"
Sin glared at the man who was busy trying to clean up his penthouse. For over a week he hadn't left his couch except to kill demons and hunt for Kessar and his brother. He'd slept on it, eaten on it, and sulked on it. And all in a useless effort to push Kat out of his life.
But the truth was, he missed her. He missed the scent of her skin and hair. Missed the way her forehead crinkled whenever she thought he was nuts. He missed the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand.
Most of all, he missed the laughter they'd shared. Her razor-sharp sarcasm.
His stomach ached from the emptiness left by her absence. It was a pain so profound that it permeated everything about him. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He had no energy.
All he wanted was Kat back.
Damn her to hell for that.
Kish picked up the pizza box, which still held an untouched pizza, and added it to the garbage. "I'm just saying a dying cow could sulk."
"The least you could do is call him a dying bull," Damien said as he entered the room behind Kish. "Man his ass up a bit. At least that would be an improvement to the whiny little girl we've had to deal with these last seven days."
Sin shot his hand out and sent a jolt to each of them. They yelped before they went flying. "Anything else you girls want to complain about?"
"Ow," Kish whined. "I think he broke my body."
"What part?"
"My whole body. It all hurts."
Damien pushed himself up on one of the bar stools to glare at him. "Do you even own a mirror?"
Sin scowled at him. "What are you talking about?"
"You. Man, no wonder Kat left you. You smell, your hair is knotted, and you haven't shaved in how many days? Forget fighting the gallu. One whiff of you would kill them." He looked at Kish as he stood up. "Don't strike a match. The alcohol fumes alone would send him up like a Roman candle."
"Shut up," Sin snarled as he got up and grabbed the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's off the coffee table. He headed for his bedroom so that he wouldn't have to put up with their nagging anymore.
At least that was the plan, but the walls were so thin, he couldn't help but overhear them.
"When was the last time he changed those clothes?" Damien asked.
"I think it was the last time he bathed... the day Kat left."
Sin heard the sound of glasses clinking together.
Damien cursed. "How much shit is he drinking?"
"Let me put it to you this way... I restock the cabinet twice a day now."
"Damn, how can he fight the demons and be that wasted?"
"I think you were right earlier. He strikes a match and breathes at them. Like a human blowtorch."
"If it wasn't so sad and probably true, I'd laugh."
"Yeah. I hear ya. Personally, I stopped laughing when I found this under his pillow."
Sin cursed as he realized what Kish had found and he went to his bed to quickly verify exactly what was in his hands. Just as he feared... Katra's heinous flannel pajamas.
What a pathetic fool he was. He'd been keeping them near so that he could smell her whenever he slept. Her scent had comforted him on a level that was unimaginable.
And right now, he felt like a jackass at having been found out. But that feeling vanished behind the realization that another man was holding Kat's clothes...
Infuriated, Sin stormed back into the main room and snatched them from Kish's hand. "Do you mind? These don't belong to you."
"Sorry."
He turned to catch Damien's smirk.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing. I'm just trying to imagine you in flannel pink sock monkey pajamas. I'm sure you look stunning in pink."
Kish burst out laughing. "Actually, with his skin tone, he probably does look really good in it. I would definitely say he's an autumn."
"That's summer, you dweeb."
Sin gave them a cold look. "I find it fascinating that you two women know that color palettes for clothes have a name." He turned to Damien. "The fact you corrected him really scares me."
"Hey, I'm not the one sleeping in pink pajamas. I don't want to hear it from you."
Sin glared at him. "It's a good thing you don't embezzle from my casino or I'd kill you where you stand." And with that he returned to his room.
Sin closed the door and leaned against it. Before he could stop himself, he lifted the pajamas to his nose and smelled the gentle scent that was unique to Kat. How something so stupid could both soothe and crush him he didn't understand. But there was no denying what he felt.
He wanted her here with him. And it killed him to be here alone.
"What have I done?"
But he knew. He had to keep her away from him. It was for her own good. If Ishtar had fallen to the gallu, what chance did Kat stand? He would never jeopardize her safety for his selfishness.
Disgusted with his own weakness, he forced himself to toss the pajamas to his bed and head for the bathroom. As soon as he caught himself in the mirror, he understood Damien and Kish. He did look like hell.
His eyes were sunken from lack of sleep... he couldn't remember the last time he'd shaved. His hair was shaggy and unkempt. Kat would kick him sideways for looking like this, and he probably did smell as bad as he looked.
Disheartened, Sin went to the shower to bathe and prove to all of them that he could function without her.
He just didn't want to.
As he waited for the water to heat, he balled his fist and placed it against the cool wall outside the shower before he pressed his forehead to the tile. Closing his eyes, he could see her so clearly in his mind... feel her.
"Sin?"
He tensed at the sound of her voice saying his name. It sounded like she was right behind him. But he knew better.
Then he felt it. The soft whisper of a hand on his shoulder. Afraid it was nothing more than torture invented by his mind, he didn't want to open his eyes.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Whether or not you're still there when I turn around."
"Do you want me to leave then?"
The word "no" hung in his throat. Dammit, man, shake your head and tell her to leave. It's for her own good. It's for your own good.
Still her touch was on his skin.
Forcing himself to turn around, he opened his eyes and saw the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. Kat's face. Unable to stand it, he pulled her to him and kissed her.