Born Sinner (Se7en Sinners #1)

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I bat my lashes dramatically. “What?”

  “Lucifer by Jay-Z? Are you sure you didn’t know anything about angels and demons before last week?”

  “Positive. Should I change it?”

  “No,” he smirks. “You can let it play. I like being inside your twisted little head, firecracker.”

  “What did you call me?”

  The barest hint of color touches his cheek. “Firecracker. That’s how Cain described you that first night. I think it rather fits.”

  I suck in my lips to keep from grinning like a buffoon, and train my attention on the road stretched out before us. I’m on a road trip with one of the biggest, baddest demons in history and here I am, sincerely stressed about some silly pet name and impressing him with my taste in music.

  Priorities, Eden.

  “I like this,” he says after a few more songs.

  “Yeah?” My heart actually stutters. If I could side-eye myself, I would.

  “Yeah. Who is it?”

  “Logic. I can make you a playlist if you want.”

  He nods once before his lips tighten, causing them to turn white at the seams.

  “Everything ok?” I ask, my voice meek.

  He nods again, but even that gesture seems contrived. I open my mouth to push for more, but decide against it. The moment has passed. The easiness that had settled between us, the casual banter—it’s gone now. Maybe I imagined it all.

  After several miles, and even more minutes, he finally sighs. “I haven’t listened to music in a long while.”

  I turn to look at him but don’t say a thing, for fear that his admission was not meant for me.

  “It reminded me too much of…home. There was always music there.”

  I hold my breath, picturing that foreign place in my mind. He’s remembering home. Remembering Heaven.

  “Tell me about it,” I urge softly, truly meaning it.

  His face seems to soften from its regularly tense state. His knuckles ease at the steering wheel. Even those broad shoulders seem to relax as he remembers a place so unlike the darkness and destruction of my world, and his.

  “It was eternal sunshine cradled in the soft down of grace. No strife or poverty. No wars forged of envy or greed. We smiled and danced. We loved freely and endlessly and unabashedly. Because love wasn’t just a feeling. It wasn’t roses and candy or other material possessions. It was what we were. What I was.”

  I don’t dare speak, or even breathe. I just watch him, wishing I could touch him in an act of comfort. Wishing some of that love that he speaks so ardently about would rub off on me.

  “But that was a long time ago,” he utters, his words weighed with emotion.

  “How long ago?” I whisper.

  “Long before creation. Long before the existence of humanity.” His voice takes on an ancient timber, as if he witnessed the birth of this world with his very own eyes.

  The realization that I’m currently sitting next to a man—no, angel-turned-demon—that walked this earth long before the creation of man, hits me like a ton of bricks. How? How can someone, or something, survive for so long yet remain youthful and vital? What kind of celestial magic runs through his veins?

  “How old are you?”

  He watches me from the corner of his eye and answers, “I am without age. I just am.”

  “So you have no idea when you were created?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “Earth was created some four and a half billion years ago. I believe what I once was—who I was once was—was birthed sometime before that.”

  My mouth dries, yet I soldier on. “So you’ve been alive for billions of years?”

  He shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. “Time moves differently as an angel. Years pass like days. Weeks are mere blinks of an eye. I had no concept of time then. Not until I left.”

  “So when…” I know I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help it. There’s so much to know. It’s as if I’ve been infirm my entire life, and now I’m seeing and hearing and feeling everything all at once. “When did you fall from Heaven?”

  His jaw tenses and darkness veils his face, despite his casual tone. “That’s a story for another time. How about another playlist?”

  I do as he requests, but I don’t ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut, urging me to dig deeper. Legion’s fall from grace is one story he’s resistant to tell. And it may be the most important one yet.

  “Absolutely not.”

  I dangle the cellophane bag of sugar dipped jellied corn syrup in front of Legion’s face, and put on my best pout. “Aw, come on. Sour Patch Kids are an American staple! And look—they’re fruit flavored. That has to be healthy.”

  “It’s riddled with dyes, additives and processed sugar. Of all the things to put inside your body, why would you want that poison?”

  I blink at the mention of putting anything in my body and turn around before he can see my flamed cheeks. “Toyol, please tell your friend that Sour Patch Kids are totally healthy, and he should stop being the old fart that he is and live a little.”

  Jaw practically on the dingy, germ-infested linoleum of the gas station, he looks to Legion then back to me, a mix of shock and amusement etched on his exotic face. “Ummmmm…”

  “I swear, it’s bad enough that he challenges all my music choices. I have to be subjected to veggie chips and turkey jerky too? Turkey is already dry as hell. Why would you dry it out even more?”

  “I mean, she has a point,” Toyol shrugs.

  With his arms crossed over his chest, making his black thermal shirt mold to every curve of his biceps and shoulders like body paint, Legion gives us his pointed look. “It’s better than consuming this toxic crap. And I am not an old fart.”

  Just the words on his lips causes me to break into a fit of laughter, with Toyol taking my lead. “Seriously, L,” he chuckles, clapping the larger man on the shoulder. “Live a little. Not like it’s gonna kill us.”

  Legion rolls his eyes before throwing the bag of candy contraband in the basket. “Fine. What else do we need?”

  “Ooooh! These!” I squeal, holding up a package of Honey Buns.

  Legion sucks his teeth but doesn’t fight me, for once. “Put it in the damn basket.”

  As I resume my search for sugar-laden sustenance, I catch Phenex approaching out the corner of my eye, his brows pinched in contemplation.

  “Status update?” L asks, reading his demon brother’s expression. He stiffly nods and tips his head to one side, signaling Legion to follow. L hands Toyol the basket and disappears with Phenex outside.

  “Everything ok?” I ask, feigning nonchalance.

  A glimmer of mischief sparks the black depths of his slanted eyes. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Will they be ok back…” Home. I stop myself before I say it. “Back in Chicago? Without you guys?”

  “Yeah. Probably breathing a little easier now that you’re gone.”

  “And why’s that?” I frown, a pang of offense piercing my chest.

  Toyol laughs and shakes his head. “The Jumper attraction. It’s a real bitch in confined spaces. Imagine your own personal live porn show going down everywhere you turn, for twenty-four hours a day for a week straight. Now maximize that overwhelming appeal by ten. That’s how it’s been living with you.”

  Warmth floods my face, and I quickly turn towards a display of honey roasted nuts. Unconsciously, I toss a bag in, needing something to preoccupy my hands. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Not your fault. But it can be difficult for those that aren’t as disciplined.”

  “Is that why you and Phenex came along, and not the others?” I turn toward him in time to see him shake his head.

  “I have a personal connection within the coven. Phenex is more of a diplomat than any of us. And L…well, you know how he is. Doubtful he’ll leave your side ever again.”

  My mouth dries and my tongue turns to lead. I swallow down the tho
ught of being tied to Legion for…shit. A few months? A year? Life? I can’t expect that of him, and I’m not sure I want to.

  No, absolutely not.

  How can I chain myself to a man—a demon—that despises what I am, and merely feels bound by some ancient feud to protect me?

  “Hey, would it be cool to ride with you guys in the Range for this leg of the trip?” I find myself asking. Toyol’s obligation to me may not be any different from Legion’s, but at least he isn’t playing nice to keep me complacent. Or maybe he is. Still…I didn’t confess my sins to Toyol. I didn’t sleep in the comfort of his strong arms while he whispered sweet words in the dark. And I didn’t press myself against him, begging with labored breaths and frantic heartbeats to feel more of his hard body.

  He looks at me suddenly, his eyes squinted in rumination. But before he can open his mouth to answer, a gruff voice does it for him.

  “No. It wouldn’t be.”

  I spin around and nearly collide with Legion’s taut chest. “Why not?”

  He simply shakes his head and takes the basket of junk food from Toyol before heading to the register. That’s all the answer I’m going to get.

  “What’s his problem?” I sneer at his back.

  “Problem?” Toyol chuckles. “This is him in a good mood.”

  It’ll be several more hours until we’re in Colorado, and we’ve already been traveling for a solid ten. The sun is slowly sinking over the horizon, and I feel sticky with road trip grime. Still, Legion refuses to stop at a hotel for the night.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I whine, shifting in my seat. Even though the Jag is top-of-the-line luxury inside and out, my butt fell asleep miles ago.

  “No.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “Then sleep.”

  “How? My neck will be stiff for days, even if I recline all the way. I need a bed, and a pillow, and a shower. And something to eat other than gas station hot dogs and Icees.”

  “You picked that stuff.”

  “I know, but…” I’m being a child—I know. But getting through to Legion is like trying to blow down a brick wall. I admire his tenacity, honestly. But I just wish he would give a little.

  “I can’t risk you staying in a place that’s unprotected,” he says quietly. “Even if I stay up all night and watch you, we could be falling into a trap. And I refuse to take that chance where you’re concerned.”

  I stare at him, watching the shadows caress his striking features. His deep set, silver eyes seem to glow with moonlight. “Why?”

  “I told you, Eden.”

  “Yeah, and I heard you. But…why? Why do all this for a stranger? Am I really worth it? Would you do this for any sad charity case off the street?”

  “Yes.”

  “So that’s your angle. You have a superhero complex and you see me as a broken bird that needs to be fixed.” I fail to keep the ache of reality from echoing in my voice.

  “No,” he answers, shaking his head. “You are really worth it.”

  A sour note of irrational anger taints my tongue and I look away, focusing my bleary eyes on the vast open fields shrouded in night’s approach. “See,” I huff, my voice quivering. “You have to stop saying things like that. You have to stop making me believe that I’m more than just a host or a weapon or a pawn. Because sometimes, I want to believe it. And when you say things like that, I’m able to forget—even if just for a second—that my fate is sealed in blood and tears. I forget that I have no future and no purpose in this life. And the moment I forget what I truly am is the moment I’ll allow myself to dream again.”

  I don’t turn back to face him, but I feel him. It’s just a feather-light brush against the back of my hand, but it’s enough to tell me that he’s heard me.

  “You shouldn’t have to forget,” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t be afraid to dream.”

  I nod but still refuse to look his way. I don’t want to him to see me cry.

  It’s midnight when Legion gently shakes me awake. I must’ve been lulled to sleep while watching twilight swallow the sun, casting a haunting gloom upon ochre fields dusted with late autumn. And just as I expected, my neck is stiff as a board.

  I lift my head and squint against the golden glow of floodlights intensified by soft white twinkle lights strung across a driveway. I stretch my sore limbs with a yawn.

  “Where are we?”

  “Hotel. It’s safe.”

  “Finally.” With sluggish fingers, I fiddle with the car door handle, but before I can get it open, Legion is on the other side. He waves off valet and opens the door for me. “Thanks,” I smile.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll get our luggage.”

  I stand on the cobblestone walkway in front of the hotel entrance steps, lost in awe at the sheer splendor of what lies before me. Across the driveway, encircled by a charming flagstone road, is a neatly tended garden featuring a grand fountain. Its backlit waters seem to flow into the foliage from spigots on either side, effectively keeping the trees and shrubs a bright green. Odd. From Chicago, all we saw were rust-colored, dried leaves and browning grass touched by the first signs of winter. Here, everything seems to thrive and bloom.

  “Ready?” Legion asks, sidling up beside me, although his gaze stays trained on Toyol who is talking to a giant wearing dark shades. The man is massive. Taller than Legion and broader than Cain. It’s a wonder how he was able to fit his solid frame in his black designer suit. But I guess when you work at a place like this, image is everything. Still, the blackout sunglasses at night seem a bit ridiculous.

  We follow the hulk-size concierge through the stunning lobby to the front desk. He says a few hushed words to Toyol before nodding once in my direction and disappearing behind a door several feet away. A chill creeps up my neck before crawling down my spine.

  “Good evening, my name is Dawson,” says the chipper host behind the marble counter. “I see Mr. Skotos has reserved four rooms to accommodate your party, Mr…”

  “L. Call me L,” Legion answers, his voice as smooth as satin. “And we’ll only require two rooms, thank you.”

  Poor Dawson looks at each of us, his keen green eyes filled with unasked questions. “As you wish.”

  He taps something into his computer before handing us each a card key and jumping into a diatribe about the resorts amenities, which I quickly block out. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s been so long. So long since I’ve stretched my mental limbs and crawled into another human mind. It’s risky, considering he, too, could be supernatural, but the allure of that power calls to me, beckoning me to reach out and scrape my nails against the thin barrier surrounding his thoughts. It’s pliable like putty or foam, and molds around me as I apply just a touch of pressure, sucking my intent into its welcoming arms. I slip in easily without resistance, as if he’s fearless. Safe. Unthreatening.

  Hints of serene, ocean blue and fresh cotton are the first notes to flood my senses. But there’s a foreign darkness lurking within an abandoned corner, as if he’s ignorant of its presence. Not an evil darkness, but an all-consuming one. One that obliterates light wherever it touches. It isn’t dead, although a bit cold and detached. The darkness does not belong to him, yet it has attached itself to him, as if taking ownership.

  I say the words before the unknown gloom realizes I’m there. I don’t want it to claim me too. “Upgrade our rooms.”

  Dawson lifts his head and beams brightly. “I’m pleased to inform you that we have upgraded your rooms to our executive suites. Complimentary, of course.”

  “Send food and wine.” My voice is wrapped in an unshakable timbre so unlike my own as of late. I barely recognize it. I swallow past the bitter taste of his blood on my tongue.

  “And we’ll be sending up a cheese board and wine from the kitchen.” He slides four key cards across the counter. “I hope you enjoy your stay here at the Broadmoor Hotel.”

  The doors of the elevator leading up to the upper floors aren’t even fully closed when Legio
n roughly grabs my arm at the elbow.

  “Are you insane? This isn’t our territory. The warlock could take what you did as a serious offense!”

  I try to twist out of his grip but it’s like cement. “I didn’t hurt him! I just wanted to see if I could still do it.”

  He tears his fingers away, yet steps in so close that the heat of his fury singes my nose. “You don’t get it, do you? This is about more than you and your petty, human desires. You can’t play with people’s free will, Eden.”

  “I’m not,” I bite back, refusing to let him intimidate me, even if he is right. “I’m still learning, still trying to wrap my head around all this. Excuse me for not being a reformed sinner like you.”

  “It’s not about being reformed. It’s about having a conscience.” He shakes his head and roughly rakes a hand through his mussed hair, backing into the other end of the elevator wall. “If you want me to save you, you need to start acting like someone that’s worth saving.”

  I open my mouth to retort, but he’s stolen my words, my voice. He’s stolen the fight right out of me.

  “I think what L is trying to say…” Phenex pipes up, stepping between Legion and me. It’s one of the few times that he’s spoken to me since he was nearly killed by the angel venom. Strange. I thought he’d be more gracious, maybe even a little grateful. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he’s avoided me. “Eden, we understand that humans, by nature, are not perfect, and we don’t expect you to be. But the more you lean on the dealings of the devil and willfully avoid the righteous path less traveled, the easier it will be for Lucifer’s influence to worm its way into your head. Angels and demons cannot interfere with the free will of humans, but you can. It’s what you do with that power that sets you apart.”

  Thankfully, the elevator dings and the doors slide open, revealing our floor, so I don’t have a chance to answer. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

  I follow Legion, feeling like a scolded puppy, although I refuse to let him see it. Head held high, I enter the executive suite. Phenex and Toyol are staying in one adjacent to ours.