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Authors: C.D. Breadner

Sin Eater (33 page)

BOOK: Sin Eater
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Look who just digested an entire feast.

He followed her into the kitchen, and Iola handed him the can of coffee grounds she had sitting out on the counter. “Has she called you?” Iola asked, realizing with much guilt that she hadn’t thought of Claudia in … well … since Vinnie had brought her home last night.

“She called to say they had the guy in custody, and the cops took him to a different precinct, hoping that might make a difference. I think she’s coming back today.”

Iola knew what he was saying, she could follow it, but he could have been saying anything. That damn voice of his was like sinking into a warm pool.

“That’s good,” she said quickly when she realized he’d finished speaking and she was just staring at him like a moron.

“So … what does Vinnie do for a living?”

“Doctor. A surgeon.” How nice of him to remind her that she was seeing someone.

“I see. So you had a pleasant night?”

Anyone else would have gotten her cold shoulder and a dismissal.
Anyone
other than him. In front of him, she just … blushed. “Did … did we uh … keep you up last night?”

He shrugged, and she noticed the muscles in his shoulders as they fought to get free of the shirt he had on. It made her heart literally skip a beat. “I might have … heard a few things.”

She must have been bright red by now. “I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered, looking down at her feet. Shit. Her nipples were hard. No way
that
was unnoticeable. She crossed her arms, not looking up.

“Why be sorry? Claudia informed me the walls were thin, and she said we might have disturbed your rest a couple of nights ago.”

Like she needed to be reminded of
that
. The sounds that Claudia had been making, her peals of delight mixed with Damien’s low, erotic grunts and bellows …

She needed to get away from him before … she did something really stupid.

To Iola’s surprise, Damien muttered something like “Fuck it,” and stepped closer to her. She didn’t back away.

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

Essum had become aware of Jasper’s burning agony with sudden alarm. He’d been sitting in a park, watching kids play on swings. There was one little dude he had a certain interest in – the other kids avoided him like
cough syrup, keeping a wide buffer zone between themselves and the oddball in the green jumper.

In appearances the kid was totally normal, the same hai
r-cut as the other kids, freckles on his nose, brown eyes. He was clean, looked after, but the other kids were picking up on what Essum was picking up on. Evil was already with that kid. He’d already chopped up a few woodland creatures for morbid curiosity’s sake. He was going to be one hell of a nut job one day.

It was too bad. Sometimes the spirit could just take a kid over, even though technically kids were harder to crack than most adults. Kids didn’t have a concept of greed and lust. They didn’t question
why
things were right and wrong. They just knew what was proper and not. And they could always pick up on a weirdo faster than anyone else because they hadn’t learned the concept of manners yet. Kids were like drug-sniffing dogs when it came to something being off about another person.

He watched the young Dahlmer-in-training for a while when he had a sudden jolt to his consciousness, an invasion of Jasper’s thought patterns. It was like Jasper was on his “friends” list, so every time something happened to the guy Essum received an update.

Jasper was hurt. Not in an obvious way, but something was happening to him. Essum materialized to where Jasper’s signal was coming from, finding himself in the hallway to Jasper’s apartment building. He’d beat Jasper there, because just as he was turning to Jasper’s door the guy came through the fire doors at the end of the hall, his arm cradled against his chest, his face pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked like he had the flu to the point of gut-rot.

Now
what fun lessons was Jasper going to teach him? Honest to Christ, Essum was starting to think the guy was intentionally fucking with him.

“Not now,” Jasper insisted, raising a feeble hand. “I’m sick. I feel like shit. I just want to … lay down and die.”

I can help with that,
Essum thought snarkily. Instead he said, “Let’s go inside before your neighbours start wondering why you’re talking to yourself.”

 

 

 

Voro had watched Iola try to stay calm for long enough. The smell of chocolate coming off her was intoxicating, and the way she shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably was causing her chest to brush against the inside of the T-shirt she wore. Her nipples were hard.

There was a growl in the back of his throat, and she looked up at him, somewhat startled. To hell with the stories, there were some kids that didn’t know ovens were hot until t
hey got third-degree burns on a stove element. Apparently Voro was one of those kids. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and when he moved towards her he noticed her nostrils flare. And she didn’t back up. Even when he slammed the coffee tin back down on the counter.

Fuck him. Her chest was heaving, and he couldn’t look away from those twin points under that cotton. He was pretty damn sure she had nothing else on.

Another step and her chest and belly were against him. That was all it took for his erection to kick up and make itself known to him. Probably to her, too. But she still didn’t back away.

He slid one hand across her lower back, and she melded up against him without any
provocation. This was fine. No burning here. Just her breathing … quickly. Through parted lips.

What if Essum had just been screwing with him?

God help the wishful thinkers.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, and he nodded in agreement. Then he brushed one hand down over her left nipple.

She moaned loudly, her head falling back. He brought his hand back to that spot, teasing the tip while she whimpered, eyes closed and face turned up towards him.

The need to get inside her was intense, more than any similar urge he’d ever felt. The scent of her was getting in the fabric of his clothes. It was all he could smell. And she was all he could see.

The hand on her lower back slid lower, almost of its own volition, cupping her small but perfectly-rounded ass. It was his turn to moan. God, it was a fabulous-feeling ass. He kneaded it forcefully, giving himself shit for handling her so roughly but totally unable to help it.

He could smell the reaction her body was having to his touch. More than the chocolate, he was smelling her biological reaction. He wanted it all over his hands and face.

He lowered his hand from her breast, and she opened her eyes, watching him watch her. Her eyes were hot, needing. Her breath was a furnace on his skin.

His hand played with the bottom hem of her shirt, and as she caught the drift of what he wanted to do to her, she turned her back to the counter, leaning against it and dragging him along by the front of his shirt. Her thighs parted ever so slightly, and she raised her chin as though challenging him to do something really, really naughty.

Voro, for the first time in this rotation, had a nagging thought that this
really
wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Iola’s hands rested on his chest, stroking
the muscles under his shirt. He closed his eyes, her caresses and smell making him wonder if he hadn’t taken something that impaired his common sense.

She played with his nipples through the shirt, very gently, teasing because she pulled her hands away as soon as he gasped. When he opened his eyes again, his arousal gave another kick and he had no choice. Her eyelids were lowered seductively, and she was panting, staring at his lips and his face and neck and shoulders …

Voro slid one hand back around her hip to hold her in position by the ass, and his other hand went to the place where she was swollen from the want of him. He could feel the heat of her through the fabric of her shirt.

Voro was scared of her, scared of her skin burning him. But surely this had to be okay.

Iola arched her back over the counter, going up on her toes, her legs tensing with the sensation. Her cries were like a symphony in his ears, the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard, and when she rocked her hips to work against how he was stroking at her, he growled again. He hadn’t even kissed her, he realized.

Then the wetness seeped through the shirt fabric on to his fingers. He loved the feel of it …until he felt the burning. And not the good kind of burning.

“Shit,” he said quietly, backing away from her, closing his hand into a fist. It stung like a motherfucker. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

As he broke contact, she seemed to remember herself. She put a hand to her mouth, eyes widening. “Shit,” she echoed.

He took the coffee can and went to the door. She didn’t follow. When he was safely back on the other side of Claudia’s door, he looked at the fingers on his left hand. There were blisters along the insides of the first three digits, literally like he’d grabbed a hot utensil off the barbecue.

It’s not just the skin,
he realized grimly.
Any
part of her could kill him.

 

 

 

Claudia was pretty tired of her co-workers having to fill out incident reports about how she’d gotten beaten up. But no one was razzing her about it, especially since she’d been able to tell them who it was and where the fucker worked. Surely the radio station would supply them with his address.

Another Sergeant told Claudia she could just go home, and they would continue with regular patrols past her building until they had Jasper in custody.

She packed her things, threw them in the trunk of her car, and beat feet back to her building. She had to tell Iola about Jasper, she had to warn her. But she didn’t want to call her and scare her out of her mind.

It took just five minutes to get back to the building, and she parked in a visitor’s stall, daring someone to ticket her. She had bags to carry upstairs, after all.

She shoved her way through the apartment door, dropping her bags where she stood, and let the door fall shut. She threw the dead bolt, then looked down at her things. She really didn’t want to unpack all this crap –

Hands wrapped around her hips from behind, and she smiled, immediately recognizing Damien’s smell as he nuzzled against her hair and neck. And she recognized the erection he pressed against her as well.

“Welcome home,” he muttered, nipping at her earlobe.

“Mmmm. This is a very nice welcome.”

“It’s just getting started.”

He turned her to face him so he could kiss her, and just as she was closing her eyes he suddenly blurted out, “What happened?”

Claudia backed off and put a hand to her face, wondering what he was seeing. Did she reactivate a bruise somewhere? Then she noticed her knuckles, how they’d been pulverized against Jasper’s teeth.

“I got jumped,” she said weakly.

“What? Who?”

“A guy got
into my hotel room. But … I won.”

“That’s my girl. How’d you do it?”

She shrugged. “I just … lost it on him. I broke his nose, might have knocked some teeth loose.”

He put his forehead to hers, a small private smile on those luscious lips of his. “That is so hot.” She laughed, and he growled in response. “I mean it.”

“Okay, I believe you. Actually,” she freed one hand to pull the necklace up from the top of her shirt, the necklace he’d slid into her suitcase. “This thing really seemed to freak him out. I don’t know if he’s allergic to silver or what, but as soon as he touched it he was shrieking.”

“It’s not silver,” Voro said quietly, dropping it back down the front of her shirt.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m not sure,” he said evasively. “But I promise the guy wasn’t a werewolf. So … who was he? Did you know him?”

“Actually, I do.” She was alarmed by the look of shock on his face.

“Who is it?”

“A guy Iola works with. I have to tell her, actually. Just to warn her.”

“I think she went back to bed. The doctor left early this morning, and they didn’t get
much sleep last night.”

Claudia raised an eyebrow as Damien licked his lips, then bent his mouth to kiss her neck.

“And what did you hear?”

Damien’s breath tickled her skin as he chuckled. “I heard enough to make me wish I wasn’t alone.”

“Did she … seem to enjoy it?”

Damien pulled back to give her a small, surprised smirk. “Claudia … why would you ask that?”

“I’m curious is all.”

“Should we try to reenact it?”

Claudia felt herself warm down below as his tongue flicked over her bottom lip. “We have to be quiet,” she insisted, melting at his touch faster than ice cream at the beach. She shouldn’t have been aroused at this point in time. She’d just been attacked, almost raped, she really shouldn’t be …

“I can be quiet,” he whispered.

“Take me to bed,” was her throaty reply.

 

 

 

“What the hell
happened
?” Essum snarled once they were inside and Jasper was pacing back and forth in his living room. He was late for work, and he was bleeding like crazy. But most of all, his hand was stinging like he’d shoved it in a vat of boiling fryer grease.

“She kicked the
shit
out of me,” Jasper spat back, studying the burn mark on his hand. It looked like an animal’s face … but what?

“How?”

Jasper just shook his head. “How the fuck should I know? She’s … she’s really strong.”

“She’s a
woman
, and you have the power to crumple giants by using your fucking brain. What happened?”

Jasper took a deep breath. “She socked me right in the nose. Don’t you
see
what she did?”

“Why didn’t you get in her brain, just put her to sleep?”

Jasper stilled. He hadn’t thought of that. In the heat of the fight his only thought had been to fuck her. He sighed and closed his eyes. “Shit. Shit.
Shit.

“What happened?”

“She was naked. I … I got distracted. I wanted to fuck her.”

Essum sighed, rubbing his face. “You moron.”

“I know.”

“You have the ability to fuck
anything
you lay your eyes on. All I needed you to do was bring me this one woman in one piece. Put her to sleep, make her catatonic, whatever. You could have even done her then, as long as you ended up bringing her to me.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because this logic seems to be giving you some problems.”

“I’m … I’m sorry.
Fuck
.”

Essum was quiet for a moment then he really shocked the shit out of
Jasper. “It’s okay. We can still get her, it just might be more tricky now. Don’t worry.” He was calm, not angry. What the hell?

BOOK: Sin Eater
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