Sinners' Kingdom #1: The Book of Lust (Complete)

71

We stared at each other for a moment. A long, long moment. An unmistakable flush painted his cheeks while my heart went off like a jackhammer, slamming any possible response right out of me for far too long. It might have been a century or two before I managed to dredge up something.

"S... sorry," I stammered. "I should have asked first. Got ahead of myself."

"It... it was fine." His flush deepened. "It didn't... hurt."

Yeah, I bet it didn't. Oh, God. Please. I cleared my throat. "I guess they're a p... part of your body, then. I thought they were just accessories or something. Um, I apologize. Anyway, I guess they're not talismans after all, but if they're... attached to you, you're almost definitely not human unless you modified yourself. That can't be common. The Coven banned cosmetic Either way, you have magic. Can you, I don't know, try something? Anything?"

He still looked, um, distracted. It took him a moment to gather himself, and I respectfully — remorsefully — gave him all the time I needed. Even if he turned out to be a villain in disguise after all, I owed him for accidentally groping him, or whatever it was I just did. Clearly the feathers were a... an erogenous zone, or something. Shit.

"Try something?" he asked faintly. "I don't know where I would start. Could you show me?"

"I don't have magic at all to—" I began, but stopped myself. After everything that had happened, I could no longer claim that with any certainty. Lust and Mammon acted like I'd possessed magic all along which was patently false, but more likely was that my contract bond with Lust had infected me with demonic magic. Infernal powers were a mystery. Reading Enochian in the tunnels below the Kunlun Temple, supposedly using magic to chase off the proto-sirens, that didn't mean I had latent magical ability. Even so, if I could use it secondhand, that would explain some things... and meant I was capable of more than this. Feathers Guy was right. If I expected him to work a miracle, then I should hold myself to even higher expectations.

Even if it made me feel like an idiot, unfortunately. I sat cross-legged now on the grass, getting into Grandma's meditative pose. When Mom wasn't around to stop me, Grandma would let me sit by her and pretend... Another one our secrets.

If she were here, she could tell me what to do.

But she wasn't. So I had to do it myself.

Feel. Open. Let it in. The magic should be there and reach up for me. Even if it didn't, it should connect to the world, flowing passively outwards if it couldn't penetrate inside. The root of magic was the world and all its elements, physical nature, the intrinsic power of the cosmos that shaped it all. All basic magic theory taught even before witch kids learned their alphabet, one of the few flecks I was allowed to learn before I was cut off.

But would it be enough for me now?

I searched and searched. Waited and waited. I laid myself open, no defenses, so it could find me the way I needed it to. There was no time to waste quibbling with my conscience over the rightness of letting what could be secondhand Infernal magic infect me even more, and even to use it for my ends. I was trapped in an exit-less pocket with no help, no allies except maybe someone even more lost than I was, and no prospect of rescue. This negotiation over ethics was not in my favor.

Feel. Open. Let it in.

The magic would flow.

And—

I smiled. Opened my eyes. A crystal-clear blue gaze stared back, practically in my face. It was so soothing I didn't even react.

"Sabrael?" he pressed. "Are you...?"

My smile remained. "No," I said calmly. "Just like I thought. I might be doing it wrong, that's all. I wouldn't know. But it won't come easy if it's there at all, so it's better to invest our time into you instead of me. I have a clear memory of you being magical, while the only indication for me is that I have a true name. But that's circumstantial at best. Some rare humans have had true names before. Hybrids or vestigial witch blood lurking in their DNA, things like that. It's not even close to a guarantee I have magic myself. Our time is better spent on trying to get your memories back since you're way more likely to be useful. Got it?"

He nodded, unsure but willing. Wow. I'd spent so much time the last two days in frustrating company that I'd forgotten what it was like to have such a good-natured companion so willing to cooperate. I wished I could have this all the time.

"Okay. Then follow my directions, I guess."

It could have taken ages if I was in for another bout of bad luck, but the universe must have finally taken pity on me. Only moments later, when he sat cross-legged like I had with his eyes closed, I leaned in close to better observe his face. The slightest changes might clue me into something, I'd thought, or if nothing else I should examine the feathers and hope they jogged my memory of who or what he might be. A long shot, but worth a tr—

His eyes flew open. Before I could react, his hands wrapped around my jaw, long fingers enclosing my upper neck. Fear engulfed me, emptying my head in an instant and numbing my body, until he pulled me in and leaned forward to meet me.

There was no kiss. There wasn't even an embrace. He simply placed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes again. With only our breaths between us and my heart racing like a trapped bird beating against the bars of its cage, I could do nothing but stare at his closed-eyed, peaceful expression, unable to even wonder what he was doing.

"I can't fail you this time," he murmured. "I'll save you. Whenever you need me, I'll here for you. I promised."

Speechless, I could only watch as a strange fog of energy leaked out of him, so dense and powerful that even from the first instant, I knew something was wrong. It intensified, the fog becoming a thick cloak of violet that swamped his body, eating him up until it swamped even his pale face. It was deathly. It was terrifying. It was...

"You—!"

I didn't get to finish stammering anything out. The abyssal haze he exuded swelled and leaped out in all directions like a dark sunburst. I should have been swallowed up, too, but the overwhelming wave of energy divided around me in a perfect halo, leaving me untouched — guarding, protecting me from everything that could ever reach me. I curled in on myself, rocked by a paralyzing terror at the sheer power that surrounded me like a river of hellfire, darkness and the void and infinite impossible things, a glutted stream that flooded its banks and threatened to overwhelm everything in its sight.

Oh, God.

I knew this power.

I knew this strength.

I knew—

"You're a Prince," I whispered, but maybe it was only in my thoughts. Above the mad rushing and roaring of the power all around me, I could no longer tell the difference.

I only knew that the man who'd looked like an angelic prince, ethereally divine, untouchably beautiful—

— was a demon.

A Prince of demons.

I buried my face in my knees and hid from it all.