Page 54 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
I turn to look behind us through the rear window. The glow of blazing orange is now distinct and reminds me of my nightmares.
“I’m sorry,” Zeke murmurs, still with his eyes on the road. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit. I just don’t like seeing you lose your humanity over this.” Then he mumbles, “You’ve already lost so much.”
I face the front and stare ahead. “You need to prepare yourself, Zeke. Before this is over, we’ll lose a whole lot more. Asmodeus transformed into a winged beast I’ve never seen before. And if he couldn’t care less about Lilith, the Mother of all Demons, then we have to consider he’s more powerful than her.”
His knuckles whiten on the wheel. “I get it. If we hesitate, we’re all dead.”
Twenty-Three
Leila
Looking into the small motel bathroom mirror, I put the finishing touches on my makeup. Menial and repetitive tasks let my thoughts turn to things I usually try to avoid. Zeke is out there, doing whatever he needs to do to reconnect with his old gang. After we arrived in the middle of the night, I slept on the bed, and he slept on the couch.
Seeing the death in that bar has done a number on both of us. It’s made it more real somehow. I didn’t kill Pete, and so far, we haven’t been chased down by the police, but we burned down the bar. We burned it to free ourselves to find this relic and fight.
I start to ask myself, do the ends justify the means? At what point are we the villains?
When I woke, he was gone.
It’s funny, years of suffering denigration and judgment from the Sisterhood hasn’t affected me as Zeke’s disappointment did. He says he understands now, that our mission might have consequences we won’t like. I know I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but a part of me still yearns for his approval. It wants to be that sweet person who made him smile when she shoved a cookie down his throat.
I should have gone with him. Should have tracked him down and made sure he was safe. That’s what Leila the Sinner would have done. The mission comes first. But Lei Ling can’t face another minute, knowing her iron heart is unsteady. First Zeke, then the fires, then Pete—I’m losing confidence in my decisions. Stupid to dwell on this now. I’m a hop, skip, and jump away from pretending to be someone else. I should be using this time to disassociate, and channel Madam Mina, but each slide of my eyeliner doesn’t hide my own eyes behind it.
It’s now seven o’clock, and we’re due at this poker game in an hour. Zeke was missing for most of the day. He texted me and said our invitations are sorted and that he has a few errands to run before he returns.
Frustration flays my nerves. My mind travels in circles, thinking about everything Zeke confessed. And I get it. He left me because he tried to protect me. He went about it in a way I wouldn’t recommend, but I only know that because I’m an adult now. He was seventeen. When I was seventeen, I was being led by the Sisterhood from mission to mission. Having already completed my training in the Art of War, poisons, how to seduce and kill... I had no opinions for myself. I didn’t know how. That took time. That took my Sinner sisters and countless tiny moments of bonding.
Sometimes we sat around a fire pit in the walled garden and talked all night. It was never about work but about the world outside. We talked about how we didn’t fit into it anymore. Somehow, those conversations morphed into unspoken bonds.
The girls and I might shout at each other, fight, and keep secrets, but we’re sisters. You don’t choose your family, but you can keep the ones you find if you’re lucky enough.
After sweeping a layer of dark, smokey eyeshadow over my eyelids, I step back to study myself in the mirror. My black patent leather corset cinches my waist so tight that my breasts virtually spill over the top. The corset stops above my belly button. My red lace thong sits high on my hip bones. I’ll put a tight black skirt on in a minute, and that little red flag will flash above the waistband, luring in any male with a pulse.
With my eyes made up so dramatically and my hair cut short into a bob, I look nothing as I did when a child. It’s no wonder Zeke didn’t recognize me. My face has sharpened into a pixie shape. For all intents and purposes, Ishouldlook like the girl he knew, but there is nothing familiar about the cold, soulless eyes blinking back at me.
I try smiling, but I don’t feel it. The woman in the mirror is a doll. A puppet. A madam about to dominate the answers out of our target.
I wouldn’t recognize me either.
The front door opens and then shuts. I should probably grab a robe, but as I glance through the open bathroom door, I see Zeke frozen by the bed, looking at me. He has a new black eye. It must be windy outside because his hair is messy. My gaze darts over his body and I look for evidence he’s been in a fight, but his knuckles are clean. Which means that black eye is from someone hurting him.
Anger simmers in my blood. It’s one thing for me to bite his lip, but another for someone else to hurt him. I roughly open the lid on my mascara and scowl at my reflection.
“What happened?” I ask tonelessly as I swipe my lashes with the wand.
All the while I’m seething inside, hoping I get to lay my hands on the person who hurt him. The last time I saw him beat up was that night in his room with Puck. He’d fought to protect my honor, but I’m finally old enough and bad enough to do the same for him.
He clears his throat and drops his garment bag onto the bed. He steps closer. That’s not my pulse quickening. I’m just here, unaffected, getting ready for another gig. I’m about to be a cold-hearted dominatrix. I shouldn’t be panting beneath my corset.
“It’s sorted,” he says gruffly, resting at the door. “We’re invited to the poker game. Andrei won’t kill me.”
“He just gave you a black eye?” I ask. “Seems a bit light for a betrayal that cost him enough money to want you dead.”
That’s the story I’ve gathered from his little reveals. In the periphery of my reflection, Zeke leans against the doorframe and watches me until my skin buzzes with awareness and heat.
“I gave him something he’s always wanted.” His voice is a little too rough for me to consider him unaffected by my attire. Stupid. I should have closed the door and dealt with this later. I can’t let my hormones distract me before a mission.
Wait.Something he’s always wanted?The mascara wand pauses near my eye. “What did you give him?”
