Sins of the Flesh

“Black. I’m guessing obsidian volcanic glass,” Alastor replied, his voice tight.

“Good guess,” Mal stared at the black-bladed knife that was one of the two items in the safe. There had been a second knife in that video. But it wasn’t here. And his earlier investigation of the other rooms hadn’t revealed anywhere that Kuznetsov could have hidden it.

“You there, mate?” Alastor asked.

“Yeah. And so is one of the knives.” His head jerked up as he heard sirens in the distance. No doubt the broken window had set off some alarms, or perhaps a neighbor or a passerby on the street below had called it in. The safe wasn’t wired, so it hadn’t triggered any alarms. He rattled off the condo’s address and described the location of the safe. “You’ll probably have to make your way through some cops. They’ll be here to investigate a shattered window.”

“Why don’t you just bring it along yourself?”

Mal smiled darkly. “I’m going hunting, and I don’t want to risk losing this in the scuffle.”

“Hunting?” Alastor asked, his tone dusted with amuse ment.

“What?” Mal asked.

“Dae said something similar to me not too long ago.”

“Yeah? What was he hunting?”

Alastor laughed. “Roxy Tam. And you?”

Choosing to ignore the question, Mal ended the call. He stared at the knife. Volcanic glass. The hilt was metal, intricately wrought with dragon scales and at the very bottom, a dragon’s head. He was no expert on weaponry, but he knew enough to hazard a guess that the knife was old. And it was Japanese.

Mal took a deep breath. He’d recently had occasion to visit the Japanese goddess of death, Izanami, in her Underworld realm. He’d found himself liking her during the brief time he’d spent in her company. He’d liked her all the more when she’d set his brother Alastor, and his mate, Naphré, free.

He’d hate to name himself her enemy, for a whole boatload of reasons. So he didn’t want that knife to have anything to do with her. Didn’t want her involved in his brother Lokan’s death.

But a Japanese knife used in the kill ceremony made that a strong possibility.

He took the second item from the safe. A cartouche, the insignia of pharaohs and kings—living gods. It was old gold. And it shouldn’t be here because the name inscribed within the sacred oval was not Sutekh’s, but Aset’s.

“Fuck.” Every time he turned around, the lineup of suspects got longer. Setnakhts. Xaphan and his concubines. Traitors from within Sutekh’s own ranks. Izanami by dint of the obsidian knife, and now Aset’s cartouche.

Kuznetsov, a Setnakht priest, shouldn’t have either of these items in his possession. The fact that he did muddied the mix because the only way Mal could see one of Aset’s Daughters working with Sutekh’s priest was if she was a traitor.

Instead of finding answers, Mal’s digging was only turning up more questions.

He locked the knife in the safe for Alastor to recover, but the cartouche he put in his pocket. Then, to prevent anyone else from trying to open the safe before Alastor got here, he crushed the external apparatus.

Alastor would retrieve the knife. He had the strength to rip the door of the safe clean off. Not too many other beings did. He’d get it analyzed using Topworld forensics and their own Underworld techs. They’d find its secrets, preferably sooner than later.

Mal crossed to the bed and snagged Kuznetsov’s robe, then he used Calliope’s blood-drenched sword to slice the sleeves off. He wrapped the blade with the remainder of the cloth before creating a makeshift sling from the sleeves. Then he tied the sword she’d skewered him with across his back, much the way she’d worn it earlier.

He had a feeling that Ms. Kane would want her little toy back. While he hadn’t yet decided what price he was going to demand for relinquishing it, two things he did know: it would be steep. And she was going to pay it.

He was definitely going to enjoy that.





CHAPTER SIX



I ally myself with the divine Aset.

—The Egyptian Book of the Dead, Chapter 78

THANKS TO THE SOUL reaper’s blood, Calliope managed to land on her feet despite the four-story drop and the weight of Kuznetsov on her shoulder.