Page 45 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
“Me? How?”
“You looked similar. Were of the same age. We were close by. With what we now know about you Sinners being targeted, it had to be you.”
Her shock contorts into agony. “Youblamedme?”
“No.” I reach for her, but she slaps me away. “Fuck, I can’t get anything right.”
“Oh, I think you did.” Her emotion disappears until her face is a cool mask of indifference. It saps the beauty right out of her and breaks my heart.
I scrub my hand through my hair. “I left with the toy because as long as it was near you, the demon would keep coming for you. I thought Snuggles was some kind of beacon for demonic activity. It’s the only thing that made sense. So I left and took the toy. I had this grand plan for it to come after me so I could kill it.”
“But...”
The shame heats my face. “I failed to kill it, Leila. It never came for me. I waited and waited. I spent all my free time and money learning about demonology and the occult. A year after I left you, I received an alert for a house fire. A local orphan girl had died.” I pull out the charred red string from my pocket, curl my fist around it, and then show it to her. “I found this in the rubble.”
“The Sisterhood,” she whispers, mesmerized by the bracelet. She touches it. “I forgot about this until recently. I gave it to another foster kid—I thought your death was my fault. Thought I didn’t deserve the protection.”
My throat clogs, and I force myself to breathe. “I thought you were dead, Leila. That’s why I didn’t recognize you. Even knowing Leila is so similar to Lei Ling... I just never guessed I would be so lucky. I did some very bad things after I thought you had died.” I slide her an empty look. “Eventually, I found Wes... or he found me. He helped me escape the country. Together we figured out which demon killed my sister... and you. Flauros was its name. I saw its real form once—do you remember?”
“You said it looked like a man that was a cat, and it had glowing red eyes.”
I nod. “We tried to summon it, but it never came.”
“I’ve never seen it. Do you think it gave up?”
“Maybe. But also, Wes said that if I saw its true form, it came through physically into this realm. That kind of transference takes alotof power. The gates of hell are closed. The cracks weren’t big enough for demons to just slip through. He thinks if, by the time it found you, all it could do was light fires nearby, then it likely had little power left. It’s probably still back in hell, stuck there until it’s strong enough to escape again. Maybe that last fire with the girl and the bracelet was the last of its strength.” I exhale and close my eyes. “It’s like everything I ever sacrificed was for nothing.”
“And then you got sick.”
I nod, brace myself on the porch railing, and hang my heavy head. I thought I would feel lighter if I confessed everything. But it doesn’t change the fact that because of me, Leila is now an assassin—a woman who uses her body to get close to slimy men. She lost that spark in her eyes because I wasn’t good enough. Because I made mistakes.
“I was supposed to be your huckleberry, but I fucked up.” My voice is rough. I look into her eyes. They’re not full of hate. There’s something else I can’t grasp. Something warmer than the cold.
“Zeke,” she says. “The only fuck up is that you cared for me.”
Every cell in my body rebels against her words. “What?”
“I’m the problem. Thea made it clear that we, the Sinners, are fated to wield the relics.Weare the targets. Anyone close to us is a target too.”
“I’llneverregret fighting for you.” I bluster, trying to find the right words. “I just regret I did it wrong.”
“You had nothing but hell because of me. And now you’re back here with demons and death.” She gestures at the bar door and winces. “I know you’re trying to hide it, but I can smell the blood from here.”
“Leila.” My tone is hard and commanding, my movements steady and sure. I take her chin and lift her gaze to mine. “I’m going to say this once, so listen up. You are not my hell. You are my heaven.”
She inhales sharply, knowing what I mean. She has to. The hours of watching that stupidTombstonemovie have to count for something. There’s a scene when the flirty actress asks Wyatt Earp what his idea of heaven is. It takes him the entire movie to find his way to her... his heaven.
Her gaze darts over my face, and then she does something I’ve only dreamed of. She puts her palms on my chest, lifts up on her toes, and presses her soft lips to mine. A dam of yearning breaks in my body. My groan is long, deep, and shuddering. I’m in agony. From my head to my heart to my toes. I only want to kiss her back but restrain myself.Don’t scare her away. Let her lead.Her lips are on mine for two eternal seconds. But then she lowers with an unreadable expression and a soft sigh.
What was that?
My lungs heave. I can’t think.
She kissed me. She doesn’t hate me. Her hands are still on my chest, but what the fuck was that? It was almost a sisterly thank you. A chaste placation. Something you give a family member because you’re obligated to.
It occurs to me I’ve never told her I want anything else. I’ve held it all back. Even Puck knew why I beat him within an inch of his life after he taunted me about why I kept a pretty young girl around. I whaled on him because his taunt held a kernel of truth somewhere in all the lies. I couldn’t understand or name the longing in my soul back then, but it was always there. She was mine.Ismine. We belong together.
Her eyes slide to the door. “We have to go in.”
