Page 91 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

I hated to admit that I missed her. She had no right to be missed.

Almost a month had passed since I last saw her—when she’d been unconscious as Vincent wrenched her head back to expose her throat to me, telling me the reason why she’d kept me locked up wasn’t on account of a weak heart.

It was because I was the devil’s spawn.

I didn’t believe it at the time. Now, with this hatred festering in my heart at the thought of Lexi and the malevolent glee curling through my insides as I imagined taking my retribution, I believed it. I wasn’t a bad person. But there was no denying that I was not all good either.

My mom’s weird relationship with religion had put a sour taste in my mouth about the whole thing. Whether or not God was real was something I didn’t think too much about. So it was funny how I found myself thinking about it more now that I lived among the dead in a vampire coven.

Maybe it was the fact that more and more, I believed something was watching over me.

It was more likely that it was Satan, rather than God, by the way my dark deity seemed to love watching the world try to kick the ever-loving shit out of me. As inconvenient as that was, I could deal. Because sometimes? Sometimes it did me one heck of a solid.

Like Lexi—after disappearing into her room for a moment to change out of her ruined top—oh-so-conveniently deciding to take a midnight stroll through the cemetery, minutes after she’d sealed her fate with her tit-filled testimony and her snide remarks in the hallway.

When we saw her slip outside from the manor’s main entrance, Vincent led me through the kitchen to slip out through the servants’ exit so we could avoid the Elders’ guards standing sentry out front.

This was my first time in the manor’s kitchens. They were more modern compared to the rest of the house and looked totally empty until we rounded a corner to see a couple entangled on the counter.

Isa—the coven’s oracle, was spread out on the kitchen island, her back flush with its granite surface and her legs bent and splayed open.

She still wore the fluffy yellow bathrobe I’d seen her in earlier, and now bunny slippers covered her feet. Everything the vampire witch wore was sunny and cute…with the exception of her ravenous mate buried between her thighs.

I tried not to stare too much, but it was hard not to gawk. They looked good together.

The witch’s French-tipped fingers twisted into Tau’s dreadlocks, while her hips bucked against the mouth ravaging her.

“Just like that, baby. Bite me. Spill me open...”

Her mate growled into her, his palm splaying over her navel while his other rubbed vigorously over her clit.

Her blonde-lashed eyelids flickered open to settle on Vin and me sneaking to the door. “Ahh!”

At her scream, Tau jolted upright while tugging the flaps of her bathrobe down to cover her. His chin dripped with his mate’s inky blood. He’d been feeding from her while giving her oral at the same time. Damn. That wasn’t exactly vanilla foreplay. I mean, any couple who’d been together as long as those two were bound to develop ways to keep sex interesting.

But Isa’s bright and cheery disposition, and those fluffy bunny slippers, really made it a surprise to see this twisty side to her.

The witch scrambled into a sitting position and clapped her thighs together. A flush stained her cheeks at the way her bloody flesh made a wet slapping sound. “P–Prince, Princess. How long have you been standing there?”

“Er, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Tau was as composed as ever, looking more amused than embarrassed. “Prince Feral, Princess Ruby. Please excuse us. We just came down for a midnight snack.”

“Yes,” Vincent said with a snort. “We can see that.”

Isa sent us an apologetic smile, which slipped from her face on the next beat. Her hand flew over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

I stared at her, confused by the sudden shift in her demeanor. You’d think she’d seen a ghost.

Vin’s chest caved with an exhale, and his giant hand rubbed over his face. “Fuck.”

Then it hit me. At times, the witch could see bits and pieces of the future when certain people came within proximity to her.

“Wha–what do you see?” My voice came out calm and panic-free, which was impressive since I had a pretty good idea of what she’d seen.

The witch took a few deep breaths, eyes drifting shut. “Death. I see death.” She frowned. “I’ve been seeing a lot of that these days.”

“Whose death?” Vincent impelled her in a gentler-than-usual tone as his weary eyes scoured her face for clues to her vision.

---