Sin Eaters: Devotion Book One Read online

  Tears fell down her cheeks as she stumbled out of the kitchen to head to her private office. With the hallway wall as her anchor, she fell into a black abyss and sobbed as another memory raked her brain.

  A year ago, Kyo had taken Sanna to BJC Hospital downtown. They had been looking at an empty historic building with a representative from Protection Corps, an architecture and restoration firm, wondering if this was the spot for a nice upgrade to their restaurant. The art deco feel of the granite and marble walls called to her. She couldn’t believe she had found this treasure, especially with a lot of old buildings in St. Louis being torn down. She felt this was what they needed, this old building that filled her with a sense of hope.

  Walking away from Kyo and the flirting representative, Sanna took in the huge, comfortable space with a beautiful street view and great access, especially for parking. She was happy she went with a new firm that had a taste for rehabing old buildings throughout St. Louis, East St. Louis, and Alton, IL. She loved the respect they gave to the buildings and land. The firm made sure that the buildings they worked on were eco-friendly, which was especially important to Kyo. The building’s statues of standing guards from Japan and Egypt as well as Native American guards had drawn Kyo as soon as Sanna showed them to her. They couldn’t believe they had both driven by this prime piece of property and never noticed it. Six months later, they were its sole owners.

  Sanna smiled, looking at her marble stairway with beautiful Egyptian etchings. The work was exquisite, and one could tell it was all carved in love. Reaching out, she let her manicured fingernails softly brush its smooth surface. The heating marble melted and slid against her fingers, making her touch the etchings more as she stared in amazement, not noticing each intricate marking softly glowing with her strokes.

  She inhaled sharply as she heard a sudden, soft humming song fill her mind and being, while her body fell with a hard thud, pain searing through her.

  The migraine made her think of the time when she’d had it so bad that she had to be hospitalized. She was twenty-one then and in culinary school. One moment she was vying for a chance at working in France as a sous-chef for an exchange program, the next she was waking up in the hospital looking at a set of her old childhood drawings her tear-streaked mother had given her.

  Her migraines had always brought forth strange images, but she had no idea that even as a child she’d drawn those very scenes. Each bright well-drawn squiggle had depicted her life in the present. She was an adult, surrounded by her family, owning Aset restaurant, and a tall man stood behind her, with his hand on her waist as darkness tried to reach for them. Her drawings took her mind off the reality that she was laying in the hospital because of her blackouts, even though the images scared her.

  This time it felt worse than when she was twenty-one. She clutched the side of a nearby wall, a slight pain continuing to sucker-punch her temples. Her body felt as if it was overheating when she stumbled into her private office.

  Tears of pain slid down Sanna’s soft cheeks as the blackout took her over, making her twist and turn. The images were coming faster and harder every day now, as if she had to help someone or something. Each image flashed past her like she was in the middle of a live slide show, the gust of force of each picture stinging her cheeks as she reached out in pain. She felt her mind split as she fell to her knees on the floor of her office, her psyche begging for the pain to stop. She was sure she was dying.

  Fighting for the pain to stop, she swung at invisible hands as she heard the distant shouting of a scared voice demanding that she wake up and get up. She felt the hands rock her and pull her as the images suddenly sharpened around her mind then broke into a piercing scream in her mind, “Get Out!”

  Breaking out of her vision, she jerked up, sweat blanketing her brow. Instinct had her push herself up into a low crouch with an urgency she had never felt in her life. Fright-flight had her suddenly running as she noticed Kyo leaping over falling debris and flaming pieces of their restaurant falling from the ceiling. She didn’t understand how her baby was on fire. Yet, as she looked around, she swore she saw a lone body with glowing eyes watch her then begin to chase both her and Kyo.

  She heard Kyo hiss as her body suddenly compressed and slid through a narrow opening, pulling Sanna with her.

  Blinking at that smooth move, Sanna didn’t even want to ask how the hell her homegirl had just pulled that off. Their baby, Aset, was on fire, and something was chasing them hard.

  “I got you, sis!” Kyo yelled as she clutched Sanna’s hand. Carefully pulling her up as she ground her feet and tried to keep her cool.

  Sanna sputtered, her head spinning while her body tensed with adrenaline, “Aww, hell to tha naw. Kyo, you see what the hell is happening?”

  Looking around, Kyo shook her head, tears filling her eyes at their restaurant in disarray. She herself couldn’t believe what was going on around them.

  Kyo had been waiting for the last patron to leave. She had just happily put up the wedding cake she’d made for a customer who’d begged for her custom sugar art to be used on it while they were both in the kitchen working their asses off.

  She knew Sanna was finishing the last sample dessert for the patron, and so instead of keeping staff on hand for one man, she’d decided to let the last remaining waiter clock out. As co-owner she would handle whatever else needed to be done.

  They both hated working overtime and making staff stay late just for one customer, but they had decided to always treat the last customer with no less hospitality than any other customer, an approach that brought great reviews to the restaurant. So today wasn’t any different with this patron.

  The handsome man kept eyeing Sanna and watching both of them. Kyo wasn’t offended. She had seen many quietly observe her and her “sister,” thinking of ways to flirt with them. It amused her, but this time it felt a little off.

  Kyo wanted to smile and flirt back, but something kept making her skin crawl. The man commented on how beautiful she was and how her skin seemed to shimmer with starlight.

  “Oh, thank you. That’s just lotion,” she lightly commented. She had to chuckle and try to please the customer as she waited for him to leave.

  People often commented on the soft glow of her skin and how it seemed to shine in certain light. She was used to it. Her skin had always had that glow. Her own mother had the same glow and didn’t think anything of it. Kyo always put it down to her dark-complected mother, who was of Okinawa descent.

  Kyo stood at a statuesque five eight with a curvy, athletic build. She loved playing with her thick black hair, getting it in spiked asymmetrical bob haircuts with a single stripe of color in her eye-covering bang.

  Her mother and father had always said her personality came out in her art, and it was her art that introduced her to Sanna. They grew up together in North County and went through everything together, including defending their friendship, because in St. Louis it wasn’t often that a young black girl was seen with a young Asian girl, or a young Asian girl with one jade-green eye and one ever-changing hazel eye for that matter.

  From the day they’d met in kindergarten during finger painting, to them both going to college, to Kyo dropping out of med school and, later, both of them enrolling in culinary school at the same time, they’d stayed with each other like white on rice. She always felt she had to protect her best friend through everything, and it didn’t bother her in the least bit. Sanna’s battles were teaching her to protect herself, and it made Kyo proud to call her “sister.”

  Her mind still recalling what had happened prior to the attack on Aset, Kyo was ready to ride out as she stood in the kitchen. She was tired, and when she saw her sis stumble to her back office with another migraine, she knew it was time to close shop for the day. Her best friend’s blackouts scared the religion into her. That’s how bad Sanna’s fits were, and that always made Kyo act as her guard of sorts.

  Kyo had walked into the front room to collect the patron’s dishes
, but the way he watched Sanna as she left the back kitchen made the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention. Smiling at the patron, she reached for the empty cup and dessert plate. She flinched as the man grabbed her wrist. Her eyes narrowed as he gently stroked the soft underside of her wrist.

  It took every ounce of patience to not slap the taste out of him as he murmured, “Hmmm. You and the chef are such artists and exceedingly good with the tastes and flavors presented.”

  She watched as he held firm to her wrist and leaned in to inhale her perfume. This man had the audacity to lean in and brush his lips against her flesh, making Kyo jerk back, as if millions of stinging ants were eating at her skin. She quickly clutched her wrist as she unconsciously scrubbed it while quirking an eyebrow and staring at the man.

  “Excuse me, but I think it’s beyond time that you leave, sir.”

  The man slowly smiled and looked up at Kyo with dark eyes. “Your friend is in pain. I think she needs your help.”

  Kyo was about to curse the man the hell out when she heard a thud come from somewhere in the back of the restaurant. Absentmindedly rubbing her ear, it tripped her out sometimes at how good her hearing and sight were. She thought she saw the man bow with his hat and exit the restaurant when she turned to gather his bill. But something about the eeriness of the moment made her quickly move to the front of Aset and lock the door.

  Concerned about her sister, Kyo headed from the front of the restaurant to the back, rushing down the hallway to check on Sanna in their shared office. As she rounded the corner to the office, she heard an explosion come from the main dining room. Stopping in her tracks, she quickly re-routed toward the dining suite. She saw the table where the man had been sitting on fire.

  Confusion, anger, and a sudden fear hit her hard as she tried to stop the fire with a nearby extinguisher. White foam sprayed around her, but nothing stilled the flames that moved as if it had a life of its own. All around her, items exploded, and the straw that broke the camel’s back was when the kitchen exploded. Nothing made sense. Nothing seemed to be occurring naturally was all she could think as she ran to Sanna’s office.

  Her pulse quickened as she sprinted though the restaurant and burst into the office. Her body felt as if it was on fire, and her limbs suddenly felt like sturdy liquid as she shook Sanna awake, who lay in a crumbling heap on the office floor. Fear chewed at her heart as she watched her best friend twisting in pain, a soft sheen of sweat kissing her brow.

  Sanna was speaking in a strange language again, as Kyo always noted during her blackouts, but it freaked her out even more that as she yelled and shook Sanna, trying to pick her up and wake her, she understood what Sanna was saying.

  A piercing screech hit the air as Kyo heard, “Get Out!”

  The words seemed to explode from Sanna in a jumbled ramble, making both of them jerk back as Sanna woke, hoisted herself up, and ran.

  As they ran down the hall, all Kyo could think about was protecting her best friend and getting out. Looking around she swore—no, she knew she saw that strange man standing in the middle of the dining room around the flames watching them, a dark, sinister smile on his face.

  She innately knew he wasn’t human when his eyes flashed an unnatural, glowing yellow. They burned like flames, she thought as she caught up with Sanna, who she swore was moving like a jaguar.

  The man flicked his nail, and a flame burst over the women.

  Kyo instinctively ducked and slid into a backflip, dodging the attack. “The hell is going on?” ran in her mind and fueled her attempt to get herself and Sanna out safely.

  She yelled in fear as she saw that same man leap and rush after them like the fire that was engulfing their restaurant. She believed she had to be dreaming, until Sanna confirmed in so many words that she too saw that “thing of a man.”

  Kyo suddenly swung a hand out, pushing them both out of harm’s way. At the same time, Sanna rolled and gave a floor sweep of her leg.

  Both women looked in twin shock as the body of the man chasing them abruptly stopped in the middle of the flames and combusted by a flashing light. The impact of that hit was so strong, it knocked both women out of the restaurant and into a safe spot across the street. Later they would swear that, after they’d watched their beloved restaurant almost burn down with all of their hard work, they’d felt comforting hands guide them out. Those very hands, Sanna knew she had felt before, although she couldn’t remember where.

  Chapter 3

  “Damn, cuz! You smell like death.” Sarcasm laced the deep drawl of Marco’s curled lips.

  The Attacker strolled into the shared complex he lived in with his House family. Though he was of the House of Vengeance, or V’ance, as is the ancient name by birth, he also lived in a mixture of Houses, mainly his own established household and his cousin’s House of Templar, or T’em.

  By right, because of his ranking birth, he was able to form his own sub-house within their unique culture, due to his Society caste, and out of necessity to survive he did so, just by happenstance. He and his cousin jokingly called their home House of the Unknown, or as he’d heard from the underground, they were being called the House of Dusk.

  Throwing his coat down on the floor, the Attacker rolled his shoulders. With one stroll, he plopped on his couch with his leg resting on the swirling glass table in front of him.

  Marco slowly shook his head as he watched his cousin from beneath his thick, dark lashes. A wisp of smoke escaped from his well-formed lips as he relaxed with his cigarillo.

  Private memories of the past strengthened the unity between the two men as they joked with each other. He was his cousin’s Shield. He would ride or die for his blood, and nothing was going to change that, because he knew his cousin was his Shield as well.

  “Feels good to just sit, ya know. Was out there on the grind, man, and got hit with double duty,” his cousin replied.

  Marco sharply inhaled through his teeth and let out a deep rumble as he eyed his exhausted brother-in-arms. Fatigue made his typically erect stance slump as he noticed the powerful undertone of strength emitting from him as he rested on the couch.

  He had fed. This was good. When his cousin ignored his base nature, it usually resulted in an almost diabetic shock. Fever would take him over. Convulsions commanded his body, as an inability to breathe and complete weakness of the form would have his cousin locked in his room for days until he fed properly. It wasn’t a good look. He was damn sure glad none of that was going to happen as of now.

  “That’s why I stay to my role, and I just watch, man. I don’t get involved. Don’t hafta, on the real,” Marco replied, letting out another stream of smoke as his cousin let out a low laugh.

  Marco raked a hand over his intricately braided dark hair, scratching his scalp as he sat up and rested his forearms on his thighs, looking his cousin in the eyes.

  “Escucha. When you gonna tell the parentals, man? You been trying to live in both worlds, and ya can’t. Don’t know why you won’t let me just watch her. She fine as hell, and I don’t got a problem watching. Hell, baby gotta body like . . . ” Marco licked his lips as he let the image blend into his high. He leaned back in a laugh.

  The Attacker, smooth like a panther, shifted up from the couch steadily observing him with a lethal gaze, the sound of metal hitting glass as he dropped his gun on the table in a noncommittal warning.

  “Ha! I’m clownin’ on ya, cuz. I know what’s up. So what happened? What made you work double time today? A girly like that shouldn’t have had you workin’ like this. ¿Comprendé?”

  The Attacker crossed his arms over his chest. His arms creating a barrel of muscled, tattooed flesh as he calmly sat back and thought over everything that had happened.

  “First off, Marco, shit was mad good today. The hunt was as it is. Saved some humans from being polluted, was on my way to do my duty and watch but got delayed, my man. Found a hit that just couldn’t be allowed to live.” The Attacker rubbed his chin before continuing o
n, speaking with his hands. “You know, Pops and Ma are not going to understand what’s happening with me. Hell, I don’t even know. I’m supposed to be a Guardian like you, but naw. I been like this since I found ya, man.”

  Marco flinched at the memory, his thoughts abruptly turning dark. “Mmm-hmm, I remember. You fed off them, and I thought you were coming after me. Man, you not supposed to be able to do what you do, Khamun. You are like me. You watch, but you remind me of the Stalkers.”

  The Attacker calmly slid back into the conversation and finished Marco’s statement. “Yeah, and I saved ya ass that day and learned how they are my prey.”

  He slowly stood to walk into the kitchen and grab a cold drink as he heard music thumping in the library, which connected to sitting area.

  Studying his cousin Marco from the edge of his bottle of beer, Khamun casually replied, “Calvin mixing again?”

  As the music flowed seamlessly in their mutual home, Marco nodded his head.

  Plopping back down on the couch, the Attacker took a swig of his beer and exhaled. “So I needed to feed. You know how it is. So it wasn’t easy to find that Italian cat that I been stalking for some time. You remember the pedo?”

  Marco agreed and took another puff as he listened, his mind ticking with the intel. Finding that bastard took the team on an emotional roller coaster. The children he took, the girls and boys he hurt, would forever add to the lists of haunting dreams which he knew his cousin would relive at night. Taking in the sins of demons and purifying them always came with a cost, and that cost was sleepless nights for several weeks.