Page 26 of The Sin

I picked it up to examine. The card was completely black except for six digits in the bottom right hand corner. “Are these numbers the equivalent of our citizen number?”

“We call it a birth number.” He reached into his backpack again. “We don’t have ring tattoos here, either, and it’s imperative that you blend in. People here don’t generally get into your business, but if you stand out, they’ll notice.”

I set the card down and splayed my fingers out, studying the ring tattoo on my left hand. “Am I supposed to keep my hand in my pocket at all times?”

“I got something for that when I went out for groceries this morning.” He planted an elbow on the table and leaned in, and the tips of his fingers brushed the tips of mine.

A warm shiver rippled my spine at the sensation.

Then his palm slid over mine and he wrapped my four fingers with his, and looked into my eyes.

I had no idea what was happening. I was pretty sure he didn’t, either. He’d taken my hand and looked into my eyes, and now he seemed to have forgotten why.

I didn’t care.

The gentle strength folded around my fingers held me captivated. His skin was course where mine was soft, hot where mine was cool. It felt both foreign and familiar, not sexual and yet breathlessly intimate, and the way he looked at me, it felt like he was touching something deeper, much, much deeper, in me. It was the most unusual feeling I’d ever experienced, and I never wanted to let it go.

A smile shaped his mouth. Not a wicked grin. Not an arrogant smirk. Not amusement. This smile sank into my senses and warmed me from the inside out.

He seemed to catch himself. The smile faded as he separated my fingers, although his eyes never left mine, and I couldn’t look away, until I felt the slide of cool metal.

I blinked and dropped my gaze to see what he was slipping onto my finger. A ring of sorts, although unlike any ring I’d ever seen. The band was metal with a spray of blue crystal chippings embedded on the top, and wide enough to cover the tattoo.

He released my hand. “It’s just a cheap alloy ring I picked up at the market this morning. One size fits all, since I didn’t have your measurement.”

I turned my hand over and saw that although he’d slid it on, the ring actually hooked over my finger, nearly all the way around but not quite. I held my hand up again, admiring the sparkle as the crystals caught the light. “What gems are these?”

“Probably colored glass.”

Colored glass and alloy metal.

I loved it.

“It beautiful,” I said, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“It’s practical.” He shrugged me off, although I did detect a hint of gruffness in his tone. “One more thing. This suburb we’re in is called Gardens. If you get lost, ask around. Anyone will be able to direct you back here. But…” he trailed off.

I waited.

His brow lowered on me. “I know it goes against the grain for you to not do the opposite of what you’re told, but this isn’t Capra. Don’t wander too far from here and whatever you do, don’t go near the Packing District. That’s Blood Throat territory.”

I pulled a face at the gruesome description. “Lovely.”

“They’re a street gang.”

“With bloody throats?” I snorted.

He didn’t appreciate my humor. “They’re known for cutting out the throats of their enemies. And before you ask, if you’re not their friend, you’re their enemy. They don’t play well with strangers.”

“Okay,” I dragged through my teeth. “I’ll avoid them like the plague.”

“You do that,” he said with a sharp nod. “And make sure you keep to places where there are people around you at all times. There are unsavory parts to The Smoke, and unsavory characters everywhere.”

“And the wardens don’t care?”

“Most of them don’t, but that’s neither here nor there.” His eyes darkened, as if I’d brewed a storm in there with one careless observation. “Our jurisdiction falls strictly in the Hot Zone and the border to the wild.”

“Then who maintains order here?”

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