The Sinner - Page 11

Pain hung over him, weighing him down like a second coat. Or a suit of armor grown too heavy. Against my will, my heart softened toward him, but he was right. I did bend over backwards for others, and sometimes—most times, if I were being honest—it left me feeling as though I’d been taken advantage of.

I crossed my arms. “How can I trust you?”

“Your own father assured you that you can.”

“And if you’re lying about him too?”

“You asked earlier if he were here, and my answer was…inadequate.” Casziel winced, annoyed. “Fine. It was rude and dismissive. Better?”

Despite everything, I smiled. I could almost see Dad standing over Casziel, hands on his hips, scolding him. Almost. As much as I wanted to believe, there was no one there.

“The hardest part of losing someone is thinking they’re gone forever,” I said. “You know in your heart that’s not true but the little voices of doubt whisper what if it is?”

Casziel nodded, then cocked his head, listening. When he spoke, his tone was gentler than I’d ever heard it.

“He asks me to remind you of your youth. How you would do your homework at the dining room table while he cooked dinner in the kitchen in your house in Milfred.”

“Milford.” Tears filled my eyes. “I remember.”

I could see it as if it were yesterday. Dad banging around in the kitchen of our cozy house, the scent of pot roast or spaghetti sauce in the air. Me in pigtails at the table, my papers strewn all over but organized. I was an A student, always striving to do my best. To make Dad proud, even if he never demanded more of me than I could give.

“If you needed help with an equation or had a question,” Casziel said, “he’d come in from the kitchen to help, then go back when you didn’t need help anymore.”

I n

odded, my voice a whisper. “Yes. That’s what he did.”

“It is so now. He’s always here, Lucy. He’s just in the next room. And if you need him, he will come.”

The tears spilled over now. I smiled through them, feeling as if a weight had been lightened. It wasn’t gone; it would never lift completely, but for the first time in six months, I felt like I could breathe again.

“Thank you, Casziel.”

I hadn’t said his name before. Probably my imagination, but it felt as if the air between us had shifted. A shimmer, like the blurred air above a fire, wavered between us, then vanished.

“And I’ll help you,” I said. “I don’t know how or where to even start. But…I’ll try.”

Casziel’s eyes widened as they met mine. “My thanks, Lucy Dennings,” he said softly. Then his irritated scowl returned, as if he’d remembered to put it back on. “Now can we get pizza?”

I ordered pizza for my demon and curled on my bed while he watched television from the couch. Eventually, my eyes grew heavy; the events of the day and every wild emotion in it had left me drained. I began to doze, listening to Casziel’s running commentary on whatever he was watching—he laughed derisively or muttered in that strange language of his. A language that sounded unearthed from a tomb—dusty and guttural and not heard by living ears in centuries.

I drifted to sleep and dreamed of a woman

standing in the field, her back to me, her black hair braided in a thick rope down to her waist. She wears a shapeless wool dress, belted above the hip. Her skin is bronzed, and silver bracelets with blue stones slide down her arm as she shields her eyes from the setting sun. In the distance, a city of low mud-brick buildings sits against the banks of a river.

I follow her line of sight and can just make out a procession of soldiers marching into the city. The faint sounds of cheering crowds emanate from under horns bleating in triumph.

The woman lets out a little cry of joy, and my heart jumps too. She hikes up her skirts and runs toward the city…

Four

A demon in the guise of a human bouncer lounges at the entrance of Idle Hands. The tavern, tucked in a dark alley, is full, judging by the dark laughter, cursing, and noxious odors seeping from behind the heavy oaken door.

The bouncer watches me approach with flat eyes. “I fell to Earth and here I lie…”

“Who will help me up again?” I finish.

He nods. “You may enter.”

Tags: Emma Scott Fantasy
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