Page 64 of The Sinner and the Scholar
When the seatbelt light flicks off, Thea unbuckles, unzips her hoodie, and tosses it on the seat next to her. Grumbling under her breath, she walks to a bar fridge beside the credenza and rifles through it. Two seconds later, she’s back with mini bottles of alcohol.
She plops down, cracks the lid on a vodka, gulps the contents, then tosses the empty bottle on the seat beside her.
“You want one?” She waggles a bottle in the air. “It will calm your nerves.”
I want to say no, that I don’t need calming, but it would be a lie.
I nod.
I catch the one she tosses and then wait until she chugs her second bottle before cracking mine. The burning liquid warms me from the inside out, but it fails to douse the fury in my blood.
I’m so fucking angry that I fear it leaks from my pores like radiation. I can’t let her see. If it gets out, I’ll poison everything around me, including her.
It’s shameful enough that she knows Vepar wasn’t killed, or that she suspects the demon will be back for me, but I’m sure she’s figured out that I know the manuscript is missing from my trunk. She’s probably wondering why I haven’t asked for it back. It won’t be long before she learns I’m not worthy of Team Saint.
I’m someone she should hate.
But that’s not why I’m full of rage.
It’s the dark gift Vepar left me when I touched her. It crawls through my veins, changing me, robbing me of time, and stealing hope—right when I finally learned to have it again.
Thea’s eyes lit up when she watched me play with that puppy. I ached for the childhood she lost, for the need to give it to her. My uncle brought home pets for me, and I’d never felt more loved, more part of a family… Even if it didn’t last, I’ll always cherish those moments of happiness. It sounds utterly pedestrian and domestic, but with Thea, at that moment, I glimpsed a future I’ve always wanted but was too afraid to hope for. She eased into the charade of a happy couple like it was something she wanted, too.
An invisible string connected our souls.
Even when she shut me down afterward, I knew it wasn’t because of me. It was out of fear. Our feelings for each other are growing, but big feelings come with big changes and consequences. Her reaction was proof that I was right. I thought I could break through her fear because I wanted mine gone too. Our kiss shattered my world. It made me yearn. Hunger. But the kiss broke her differently, and I’m still trying to understand… I’m trying to wrap my head around so many things that it hurts to think.
Her mind. Her soul. Her body. Why do I feel so drawn to her that my throat aches to taste her again? Awareness of her proximity is a constant buzz over my skin. I would know wherever she went, even if I was blind.
I watch her lick the remnants of vodka from the rim of a bottle like it’s ice cream. She’s strong, intelligent, feminine, and everything I didn’t know I needed.
She’s not for you. Not anymore.
I wince at the tight feeling in my crotch, but it’s useless. The tip of my hard shaft inches toward the waistband like it’s drowning and needs air.
Thea is my air.
I exhale, unzip my damp hoodie, remove it and cover my lap to hide my embarrassing lack of control. Thea tosses me another bottle. I gulp back the bourbon and wince at the burn, then put my hands on my lap, palms down, hiding them in my hoodie.
I stare at my buried hands and remember when Vepar realized Thea could see her true demonic form. There had been a moment of complete, predatory focus. The demon was going to murder Thea.Because of me. Because I’d drawn on dark powers that I shouldn’t have.
Use her—I’m your only friend.
Vepar’s voice kept repeating in my head, just like it used to. My life had flashed before my eyes—my uncle’s hand slipping through mine, the screams of tortured souls, the insanity and loneliness I suffered at the asylum, the fact that I might lose Zeke—and I stepped between Vepar and Thea before my brain caught up to my heart.
Nothing else mattered but keeping her safe. But now the danger is over, and we’re in this private jet thousands of miles above sea level, my promise to Zeke is glaring.
“Is it going to work?” he asked.
“When have I ever steered you wrong?”
“Well, I can name a few—”
“You know what I mean. We’ve been planning this for a long time. Every part has worked. Even Asmodeus says it heals. It will work on you.” I clutch his shoulder and squeeze. “I’ll bring it back.”
The smudges under Zeke’s eyes never disappeared, no matter how much sleep he had. Inoperable tumors have a way of doing that. Zeke’s parents died when he was a toddler. He lived in a group home with his baby sister Amira for a few years. But then she was killed by a demon before his eyes. No one believed him. They’d taken one look at him and thoughthedid it—a child. He lost faith in humanity and eventually ran away. As a teen, he lived on the streets, getting into brawls and dabbling in organized crime while he hunted demons on the side. Anything that brought him closer to gaining justice for his sister. After he saved my life, I wanted to give him that. We had so much in common. He was a perfect candidate for Team Saint. And he’s good with a gun. He can shoot a penny off a bottle with his eyes closed.
It’s your fault everyone dies around you.
