Sin Eaters: Devotion Book One (3 page)

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 on, 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.
“It was good. I needed that kill, and it balanced me out to watch my Guide. Been watching her for so long, trying to stay in the rules of the Guardians, but something is up with her. I noticed some shit today. After I got my dinner, I rolled out and went to watch her and her godsister. Everything was on point like normal. But, cuz, she doesn't feel like a normal human, man, nor does her girl.” Sitting forward, Khamun tapped the edge of his bottle against the table, lost in thought.
“I read the records on her, been watching her when I got this role at nineteen, but her difference hit me hard today, Marco, and it's not jiving that the Cursed are watching her too.”
“Why now?” Marco quizzically asked.
Khamun shook his head. “They've been watching her. They started coming around both of them for nine months now, heavy. Been providing me with good targets too, but today was different.” Hesitating, he tapped his ankh ring against his bottle. “Naw, let me go back. You know we can't interfere as Guardians, but you know me, I have to. She's been having blackouts again and almost ended up in the hospital yet again, man. I'm not down for that, so I been helping her, ya know.”
Marco gave a grunt and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Been giving her succubus dreams. I know, cuz.”
“Marco, man, that's not what the light does, bro, not succubus dreams. It's been . . . I don't know. Passion always heals, right? No harm in that.”
Marco howled in laughter and choked before taking another puff. “Naw, you know where I come from,
acere
. But, my man, you got moves like a succubus and like a Stalker, but I know that ain't what we do over here. So no harm. You was healing, not hurting. Not being The Attacker. I got ya back, family. But outside from all that standard intel crap, on the real, what got you smellin' like burnt ass, man?”
Khamun flashed a smile and snorted, “Fuck off, man! You know what it is. Pure unadulterated demon, and now they are no longer watching them. They are now hunting them. My guide had her usual blackout today, and her homegirl had to deal with a customer that wasn't who she thought he was. You know law dictates that we can't get involved unless they attack our guides, and guess what”—With a slam of his fist, Khamun dissolved into the Attacker persona, his eyes darkening in anger. “Muthafucka was feeling himself and breached that line, man.”
Marco's voice lowered, and his eyes flashed. “What kind of demon?”
Marco's voice passed him by as his mind played a mental rewind of the events. Everything that happened made the Attacker shake his head, checking his own anger.

¿Khamun, qué clase de demonio?

Khamun regarded his cousin as he hunched his shoulders and replied, “It's cool. It wasn't her, but it was a Warlock.”
Marco threw his smoke in the air, and it disappeared with a clap as he grunted, “Damn! What the hell do they want with your guide?”
Fury made Khamun push his empty beer bottle. He watched it roll on the table as he raked a hand through his locks. “Listen, it gets sick. Punk hunted them and played with them. My girl was having spasms, hard ones. The Warlock went in hard on my girl's godsister and set they spot on fire, man. I tried to wake her up, but her mind was locked to me. And when I say lock, I mean spiritual barriers were on her. What I just say? My guide, my human, she is not what I thought she was, and they know it. Neither is her girl.”
Khamun glanced around the room with a pause as he replayed the whole incident in his mind. “I had to set that shit straight, had to get to them, but my girl's godsis was on it, and so was my guide. When they escaped that Warlock, they looked like
us
, Marco. They are not what I thought, man! Humans wouldn't escape what that Warlock threw at them. My guide's bestie, Kyo, threw a gargoyle spell at that punk, and it knocked him back. Bastard was shocked, man, and I had to act fast. I pushed him back in the building, while moving them across the street, and cut that asshole's head off and fed.”
Before Marco could say, “What the,” Calvin appeared behind the couch, standing with his arms over his chest.
He bellowed, a scowl flashing across his handsome face, “What the fuck! How a human female do something like that?”
Khamun just shook his head and let out a sarcastic laugh. He pounded a fist with Calvin's while reclining.
“I'm not even done. Let me tell you what I saw my girl do in the building. Baby was moving faster than a nut, damn it!”
Everyone in the room laughed hard.
Khamun continued, “When Kyo held her hand to help my guide, Sanna ran, dropped into a floor split spin to dodge the Warlock, while making him fly back against a wall. And, my brothas, Kyo fell back into a backbend and slid under a blocking beam over the door, holding Sanna's hand as they ran outside. Damn, man! Y'all know the rest. That shit was raw.”
Calvin leaped over the couch, making it shake with his weight. Expertly landing in a sitting position next to Khamun, he exclaimed, “Baby girl acted like a Gargoyle. Khamun, what cha think?”
Running a hand over his face, Khamun sat back as he eyed his crew. “What do I think? I think that her skin was letting off the defense markings of a gargoyle, and her eyes sparkled like stone, man. Somehow, some way, that woman is a gargoyle, and all this damn time, no one in Society, none of the seers have documented this shit right here. Come on, man. One is a gargoyle, and the other, I can't tell yet, but the Cursed want them both and can sense them better than us! Who are these women? Calvin? Marco?”
His boys sat quiet, each one in a different pose as they either rested near the couch or sat on it.
Khamun closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “All I can think is, muthafucka, please. This shit right here is not on that okeydoke tip.”
Marco suddenly stood and walked out of the room. Snatching some keys, a cold chill followed him as he headed to the garage.
Khamun clicked into action before his cousin and was already sitting out in his Escalade before his last statement sank into everyone's mind.
Holstering his weapons and lowering his cap over his head, Calvin followed suit and sat on his cycle. With a glance to the moonlight, Calvin revved his cycle. His third eye sprung open at the sound of a comforting motherly voice, syncing with his psyche as images flashed before him.
Visions fed his mind as he understood what was going on. He put a gloved hand in the air for the fellas to see within, and both Macro and Khamun listened as he entered their mind.

None of the seers could feel this, but we can't go after them like this. We hafta hit them women at a different angle, so you can still do what you do, Khamun. I'm being told that they're at their fam's home and being questioned by the Blue.

Brows furrowed, Calvin's jade eyes illuminated as he licked his lips and tilted his hooded head to the side. “
Yo, your moms, Lady Eldress is channeling some heavy info, Khamun. She said she's been trying to position us where we can help the ladies, but since the other seers ain't having her dreams, she thought she was having memories of past guides we've helped. She's upset—naw, scrap that—she's pissed.

With a quick glance at Marco, who was ready to do damage, Khamun clutched the wheel of his ride, mentally listening to their brother-in-arms relay what they needed to know.

She said, ‘Go protect, go interfere.' Know what I'm sayin? But do not make yourselves known to the ladies, not yet. Ya heard me? She said to use the business to help them out, tell them that we heard what happened, and we want to move them to the building they had been looking at ASAP and that the fee will be taken care of because of what happened. I have to put a protection barrier around their homes, you know, do my thang, fo' sho.

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