Page 1 of Avenger of Sins

ONE

Ryan’s head throbbed,a fierce ache that started behind his eyes and encompassed the rest of his skull, until even his teeth hurt. He leaned over the bathroom sink of the seedy motel in some backwater town in Mississippi. He’d chosen it because it looked like the sort of place that would take cash, skip asking for a driver’s license, and in general want to know as little as possible about its guests in case the police came calling. He’d been right on all counts.

It was a dump, of course. Stains on the carpet, beds, ceiling. The cloying stink of mold. Towels that looked like someone had used them to wipe off grease from a car repair.

But none of that mattered. He’d endured far worse in sterile surroundings. He’d take honest dirt any day.

A glance in the mirror revealed the whites of his eyes had gone entirely scarlet. It had been years since he’d used his telepathy so regularly, pushed himself so hard, and it was taking a toll on his body. Unfortunately, resting his talent now was out of the question.

He filled an off-brand dixie cup with tap water and drank it down. The water tasted faintly of rust. Or maybe that was just the lingering flavor of blood in his mouth.

The vampire.

For a moment, when he’d first heard John’s thoughts, he’d been certain he was mistaken. Vampires weren’t real; everyone knew that. And sure, he’d gone on one of the hokey “vampire tours” shortly after he first moved to New Orleans. Forced Jennifer and Marc to go with him, because he knew they’d hate it and all he wanted was to make them miserable in ways both big and small.

His parents had been terrified when he turned up on their doorstep so many years after they threw him away. Their fear was the first thing to make him feel as though he had any control since childhood. Gods knew they’d deserved every second of it after what they did to him.

But vampires were just a fun way to scare the tourists. Until one showed up on John’s arm.

Damn the creature for escaping the bank vault; he’d been so sure it wouldn’t be able to get out before he came back for more blood. Instead, it had shown up at the abandoned naval base on Poland Avenue. Prevented John from grabbing the Director of SPECTR herself.

Prevented John from escaping.

Now John was back in SPECTR hands. A prisoner once again. Bile rose to the back of Ryan’s throat, and he gripped the sides of the ancient porcelain sink.

A part of him understood why John had been drawn to the vampire. He’d picked fragments of their relationship from John’s thoughts, enough to know Caleb had been an ordinary telekinetic before being involuntarily possessed by the fucking thing. Even with his true memories blocked, John felt a twinge of kinship.

From the outside, the vampire didn’t seem all that bad, considering most demons were driven to maim and destroy. But in the lab, at the Center for Loving Redemption, Ryan haddemons forced into his body, over and over again. Heknewtheir madness, hunger, and pain. Knew the foul stain they left behind, even after they were gone.

He’d tried to spy on the vampire’s thoughts just once. Only surface thoughts, of course; without etheric energy to boost his telepathic ability, he couldn’t go any deeper than that. At least, not on a subject that wasn’t otherwise impaired, like Granddad had been the night he’d sent him to meet the rougarou.

Caleb had seemed fine, but the demon inside him…

It felt big. Terrifying. Like Ryan was standing before an oncoming storm that would sweep him away. As though Katrina had returned with all its power and destruction, tucked away into the body of a thin young man. Unleashed, it would wreak untold havoc.

Ryan longed to turn around and go back to New Orleans. Save John from SPECTR, from the vampire. John belonged here, with him and Jo. The only three survivors from their time as lab rats.

But that wasn’t an option. SPECTR would grab him again, and he’d spend the rest of his life locked away in some underground facility, experimented on just like he’d been for so much of his life. They’d be careful this time, learn from their mistakes. Rotate personnel so he couldn’t manipulate their thoughts slowly over the span of months and years.

Then there would never be any justice. The people who had done this, who had destroyed their childhoods and their lives, would continue on free and happy. So, no, he couldn’t turn back. John was lost to him.

He straightened his shoulders and wiped the tiredness from his face as best as he was able before returning to the main room. Jo sat in a chair beside the window looking into the parking lot, staring out in silence. She appeared as exhausted as he felt.

“Did we really do that?” she asked, almost to herself.

Her thoughts unspooled in a jumble:we’re going to get arrested, that was so stupid, why did I go along with that, I’m going to jail, can we run?

“It’s going to be all right,” he told her firmly. Considered pushing his thoughts into hers, redirecting them…but no. The vampire was on the loose now; there wasn’t going to be another source of etherically charged blood conveniently waiting for him. He needed to conserve it for more important tasks.

Such as interrogating their captive.

Agent Pittman, executive assistant to Director Kaniyar. Her pet empath she’d brought up through the ranks with her, ready to do whatever she asked of him.

It didn’t take a telepath to guess Pittman’s thoughts right now; his expression of fury told its own story. But underneath, Ryan heard fear.

He wants names, he has to, met Carrie Lydell at—no! Stop! Think about something, anything, concentrate on breathing, in, out, in, out, fuck is he going to kill me?

Pittman lay propped up against the headboard of one of the beds, securely bound with a duct tape gag. The perks of a motel: back the car up to the door, yank someone out of the trunk, and it’s only a couple of feet until they’re inside and out of sight. Not that there were many other guests to see anything; no one stayed at a rundown motel on Christmas Day unless they had no choice.

---