Page 101 of Our Sins in Shadows (Coven of Sin 2)

His lips curled into a smoldering grin. “I appreciate your offer to instruct me, but I think you should be the one to do it.”

Chapter forty-one

Ground Rules

Sterlingendedthecall,pushing his phone back into the pocket of his sweats. His thoughtful gaze grew distant. It was these moments, while steeped in thought, when he appeared the most otherworldly to me, as still as a statue. I don’t think any of the guys needed to breathe, that it was just a habit. Sterling seemed to forget the ritual while entrenched in the chasm of his own mind.

“So...” I reached to stroke his tattoo, wishing I could discern the details of his flayed flesh. “Do I get to know what the plan is?”

The vampire didn’t answer me. I thought maybe he was too deep inside himself and maybe he hadn’t heard me, but after several more seconds, a subtle smirk flitted across his face. “I think I shall allow Eros to explain the details.”

“Um, okay, now you’re making me nervous. What are you two plotting?”

“Not telling,” he said through a chuckle rife with mischief. “Eros has to gather some equipment so until he gets here, you can drive yourself mad dwelling on all the possibilities.”

“Tease,” I said, unable to keep the smile from my face.

Sterling’s shoulders bounced with his laugh as he wrapped his arms around my middle to tuck me into the contour of his body. The melodic purr he omitted ribboned around my ear like a primal song with a low, sultry beat.

My eyes drifted closed. “We’re spooning. I’ve never done this with anyone before. TV shows always made such a big deal out of it.”

“I enjoy spooning.” His mouth tugged into a gleeful smile against my cheek as he leaned in, whispering, “My name is Sterling, after all.”

My mind stalled for a second, wondering if I’d missed something. Oh my God. Was that supposed to be…? I shook my head against his chest, snorting through an ear-to-ear grin. “That’s gotta be the worst joke I’ve ever heard. Call the newspapers. Alert the press. Sterling said something dumb.”

Sterling’s frame rumbled with his full-bodied laugh. “I’ll have you know, puns were once considered the highest form of humor. Your mother always said... Hmm, how did she put it...” He clicked his tongue in thought. “Oh, yes. She said I had the ‘lamest’ sense of humor, and I needed to order more joke books for the library.”

My smile fell away when my thoughts drifted back to my mom. My attention went to the Helsing Guild Guide—abandoned on Sterling’s pillow—where a slice of moonlight fell on its deteriorating cover like a spotlight. I plucked the book up and thumbed through its browning pages.

For several minutes, Sterling held me in silence as I scanned the guide. It was filled to the brim with Sapphire’s notes. Each page contained detailed accounts of monsters, what they ate, where to find them, weaknesses, debunked myths, and more. She’d even scratched out a lot of her grandfather’s notes, sometimes slapping colorful stickers over them with a scrawled, glittery script that said:Fake news, gramps.

Another note read:My grandfather’s findings on light fae are just a wee racist. From my findings, these creatures are intelligent, kind, and will not harm humans even when provoked. Unless you count harmless pranks as hostile cultural practices. Dark fae are an entirely different matter. Kill on sight.

A heavy sensation sunk to the pit of my stomach like sediment settling at the bottom of a lake. I felt sick, angry, sad, and horny all at once. Just as dark and derisive feelings began poisoning my mood, Sterling reached around to turn the page.

“Don’t read her notes on dark fae. Not tonight,” Sterling said softly from behind me as he tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “If we want to awaken your body from this defensive paralysis, you can’t dwell on Vincent.”

Heeding the prince’s advice, I flipped to the section on vampires.

My grandfather rambled on about vampires being feral creatures that should be killed on sight. He even gave some disturbing tips on how to block out instinctual human empathy to kill the ones that looked like children. My mom had scrawled out at least ninety percent of Edric Lockheart’s writings. In the margins, she wrote:These creatures are capable of love and empathy. Try telling it a joke first to gauge its reaction before staking. Also, for anyone reading this, don’t kill the silvery one, even if his jokes are shit.

I glanced at Sterling. “She’s funny.”

“Her humor to this day makes no sense to me, but that was Sapphire Lockheart’s charm. It’s almost like she existed in her own reality and ventured out only to eradicate evil, leaving a dash of glitter in her wake.” Lifting his hand from my tummy, he turned to the last page of the guide, where a piece of paper had been tucked.

I turned the paper over, frowning. “It’s blank.”

Sterling took my hand gently in his and ran it over the paper. I couldn’t feel the ripples, but as I focused, the raised bumps stood out in the dark.

The note wasn’t blank at all.

It was in braille.

“What is this?” I asked, half referring to the note and half to the strange stirring in my heart as Sterling guided my fingertips over the braille.

“This, my dear, is the note found tucked beneath you in your basket the night she left you on our doorstep.”

My thoughts frayed and splintered into a thousand different directions. What was someone supposed to feel when they held a note from their mother that abandoned them? Since there was no way of knowing what it said, my brain went into overdrive.

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