Page 25 of Magic of Sins

Panic rushes through me, and I start to run. The lights of the bars and casinos blur before my eyes—red, orange, bright pink. Music blares loudly and then gets muffled as a heavy door slams shut somewhere. A woman with a tangled updo and overly dark made-up eyes points a finger at me. Her mouth contorts into a grotesque sneer as she laughs and laughs and laughs. Apparently, my panic is just another part of this night’s grand spectacle.

No one offers to help me. No one cares that I’m being chased by a drunken sin mage whojust wants to have a little bit of fun.

Is he still behind me?

I cast an anxious glance over my shoulder, immediately regretting it because my heel catches in a groove in the cobblestones and I stumble. The ground hurtles toward me. At the last moment, I jerk my hands up to catch myself. The photo of my mother flutters out of my hand. Everything is happening insanely fast and yet seems to be happening in slow motion. And then I hit the cobblestones.

There’s a sharp pain and tears come to my eyes. At any moment, I expect to feel the hands of my stalker on me. But nothing happens.

When I look up, he’s gone.

My gasping breath calms a little. I want to sit up, but my legs are shaky, and when I try to pull the skirt down that’s ridden up back over my knees, I see blood. My hands and knees are scraped, and I pushed pebbles into the wounds when I landed.

“That looks bad. Do you need some help?”

My head snaps up.

It’s a girl. She’s maybe seventeen or eighteen years old, wearing a denim jacket, and her hair is pulled up into a blonde ponytail. She squats down next to me and reaches for the picture I dropped.

“Is this yours?”

I nod.

She briefly glances at the photograph before handing it back to me. I’m careful to only touch the edges so as not to stain it with blood. It’s my only memento of my mother. I want to cry tears of relief because the guy who was chasing me is gone. I want to cry tears of shame because of what I’ve done—and tears of fear because I’m in the middle of East Virtue and completely lost. But I pull myself together and clench my teeth so hard it hurts.

“Can you stand up?”

The girl straightens and offers me a hand. I hesitate to take it, but she seems harmless enough, and I’m afraid that if I send her away, the drunken sin mage will come back. So I grab her hand and let her pull me to my feet.

“It’s not so bad,” I mutter more to myself than to her.

“Here.” The girl digs a handkerchief out of a small pink purse and hands it to me. “For the blood.”

“Thank you.”

I wipe the blood off carefully. It looks worse than it is, and I actually only have a few abrasions. I suddenly remember the knife in my purse. How useless it was in a situation like this. Nothing could have made me stop and threaten the man with it. He probably would have laughed at me if I’d tried.

“I’m Amy.”

“Kaya,” I reply, still busy cleaning my hands.

“Who is the woman in the photo?” Amy asks curiously.

“My mother.” I wad up the bloody handkerchief. Since Amy’s been so nice to me and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, I add, “I’m here because I want to find out what happened to her.”

Amy’s eyes grow wide.

“Did someone hurt her?” she asks, and the shock in her voice sounds genuine.

I swallow. Maybe I shouldn’t tell Amy all this. I don’t know her, and it’s really none of her business. But Iamhere to find out more about my mother.

“She was murdered. By sin mages,” I whisper.

Amy nods in understanding.

“I’m sorry.” She plucks at her lower lip thoughtfully, then her face brightens. “I know someone who might be able to help you. He knows everyone here in the East End. Come on!”

Amy beckons me to follow her and heads for a side alley. Stunned, I stumble after her. She’s fast and I have a hard time keeping up with her. I only vaguely register that we’re moving deeper into the East End. There are hardly any people around. The alleys become darker, with only a few streetlights lighting the way. Instead of bars and nightclubs, we walk past a string of apartment buildings. The facades shine in dark red or green, entrances and windows are framed with stucco decorations.

---