“And then he’ll kill me. But only after I have watched him torture you.”
She flicked a look at him. “Why? Do you care about me so much it would cause you pain?”
He touched her cheek, stroking his thumb along it. The touch was so intimate it made her want to lunge forward for the kiss she so desperately needed.
“Desdenova, you and I, we don’t get to love.”
Swallowing, she looked aside. “I know that.”
“Love is a cruel emotion.”
“So says the guy who probably doesn’t even understand guilt and honour and. . and emotion. You’ve no capacity to love, do you?”
“I see that love hurts those who cared about the deceased. They are torn apart. Why do you insist love is so good?”
“Blackthorn, love is the reason we are here on earth. To love, and be loved.”
“I am aware that love feeds the soul.” He explained, “I know how to love. I know how to want, to desire, to pine for something. I ignore that evil.”
“Don’t call something so perfect evil.”
“It is something you pine for.”
“I do.”
“Is it more important to you than honour and truth?”
“I think so. I had it once, from my parents.”
He nodded, pleased. “That is not your ego talking, but your truth.”
“You’re missing a lot if you don’t feel it,” Nova said.
“You think so?” He sat beside her and took her hand between his. “If love can be a distraction, you are it.”
A blush warmed her cheeks.
The moment felt so freakin’ normal. It wasn’t as if some immortal man who had the ability to enter Above and Beneath sat beside her. He was just a guy. A handsome, warm, wonderful guy she wanted to kiss all day and night until she had to leave this world.
Leave her entire life behind. All because of a ten-year-old’s naive promise.
“I won’t allow this to happen,” he said. He kissed her knuckles and held them there at his lips.
“I won’t let you force me to break a promise.”
“Keep your promise. Go to that bastard tomorrow.”
She turned and clutched his vest, the fine silk too soft and rich. “Don’t screw things up for me. If I steal these sins from you—”
“I’ll be fine. But you. . The devil will not have your soul,” he said with determination. “Nova, trust me.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“I like you.” He winced, as if the words had cut his tongue. Or maybe it was such an odd declaration, he didn’t know what to think of it.
“You like me? Like. . romantically?”
Nova liked him, too. And she didn’t have a reasonable explanation either, other than that he appealed to her. He made her want to know more about him. To want to show him that love was not always cruel.
“You’re not frightened of me,” he said. “You were born into a family tradition, and yet you face it with remarkable courage. There’s not a sin-eater in this world who doesn’t revel in sin and indulge because he knows the taint in his soul will see him Beneath when death calls his number.”
“I may be tainted with the sins of others, but it’s not my sin. I believe the greater power — be it God, Allah, Buddha, whoever you want to name — sees only those sins that belong to the person, not others.”
“Interesting theory.”
“You know otherwise?” Please say no, please say no.
“No.”
She relaxed. She would have enjoyed getting to know this guy if she’d more time. But she couldn’t mourn the things she’d miss if she hadn’t yet had them. Things like love, desire and sex.
He clutched his heart. This time the wince creased his forehead. “Sorry. I’ve to go.”
“Souls?”
He nodded. “You will see me tomorrow.”
“I know. But it better not be until after I’ve done the deed.”
Blackthorn’s smile disappeared like the Cheshire cat’s as he shimmered away from her side, leaving Nova shivering for the lack of warmth, and the thrill of new desire.
Nova walked up the pristine sidewalk to the penitentiary. Not a bird chirped, there was no breeze to cool her sweaty palms. The sun was so bright it bleached the sky white. The prison’s red brick walls made it look a schoolhouse, if not for the chain-link fence, razor wire, floodlights and towers with armed guards.
“Farewell,” she whispered, knowing it sounded dramatic, but feeling it in her marrow, “to all my earthly attachments and my family.”
And then there was Blackthorn Regis. Talk about wrong place and wrong time to find Mr Right.
Heck, she didn’t know enough about him to decide if he was right or wrong. Probably a smart woman would say wrong because the man could never be around all the time.
Yet he believed in her. He accepted Nova held her own beliefs, and didn’t try to make her something she was not. That was something no girl should let slip from her grasp.
She started to wonder how painful it would be, dying. It was never a picnic vomiting up sin. What followed after she’d performed the eating today was going to be that, multiplied by a hundred.
“Stop it,” she muttered. Her black sneakers tracked the sidewalk. “Focus on the now. You can’t change any of this.”
Yet Blackthorn believed she could.
Certainly, she could make a different choice. But any choice other than this one would see her promise broken.
She had to respect a promise, no matter that it had been made fifteen years ago. Then she’d honour the promise made to Blackthorn.
The door to the prison opened with an ominous creak and shut so quickly Nova wondered how many had skinned a heel if they hadn’t stepped in fast enough. A steely-eyed officer wearing full uniform and a gun at his hip waited for her to approach. This was no reception area playing muzak and offering magazines while you waited.
“I’m Desdenova Fleetwood. I have an appointment to see Scott Weston, er. . after?”
“Right, the religious liaison,” he said, noting something on the schedule before him. “Here to view the body and bless it, eh? The killer’s dying wish. Sweet.”
She nodded, nerves keeping her silent, for to speak she would have to reveal the truth. It wasn’t her lie; it had come from Weston.
He pointed to the right. “You’ll need to go through security.”
“Thanks.”
Shouldn’t a dying man’s last wish be honoured?
You have too much integrity.
At what point did a man lose his rights if he had taken the lives of so many? Truly, did he deserve a dying wish?
Nova was not the person to make that call. She was simply here to do a duty.
You’ve no right to be their judge. You are a thief.
Blackthorn had a point.
Nova clutched her neck. Was this wrong? She needed someone to tell her what to do. She was one person. One soul who followed her beliefs. But who was to say those beliefs were the right ones?
She glanced over her shoulder. Where was her rescuing knight?
You’re letting him influence you, to sway you. Be strong. Don’t succumb to base attraction. The man could never be right for you. He isn’t even mortal.
Summoning courage, Nova walked onwards.
The security check was tedious. She was frisked from head to toe. It was embarrassing, even with a female officer doing the frisking. Nova thanked a God she wasn’t sure existed for the freedoms she had enjoyed all her life.
Must a Soul-bringer lead a tethered life? He was always at the beck and call of souls waiting to be collected. A man couldn’t possibly develop meaningful relationships that way.
They were two alike, in so many ways it heartened her. She wanted to know him. She wanted more time with him.