Sins of the Flesh

“No, I do not deny it.”


On the far right, Hathor edged slightly forward in her seat. “To feed from one such as he is a betrayal.”

“It is not specifically forbidden,” Calliope said, her tone even and cool. “We are discouraged from feeding from other supernaturals. There is no law against it that I am aware of.”

“She speaks truth,” Beset observed.

“She bends truth. The law is implied.”

“Implied is not the same as inscribed,” Calliope said.

“A betrayal,” Hathor repeated.

“A choice,” Calliope replied. “The good of the collective over the preference of the individual.”

“Explain,” Beset ordered.

“I was sent to retrieve Pyotr Kuznetsov. I was about to lose him to a soul reaper. It was either feed from him and use his strength for the successful completion of my mission, or forfeit my prize. A prize of great value to the Guard and all Daughters. The latter was less acceptable than the former. I fed from him and used his own power against him.”

She wondered if they knew what it had cost her to take his blood, if they knew the disgust that had crawled from her belly up her throat in a bitter, stinging wave. At the same time, she had gloried in the taste. In that moment, she had truly hated herself.

It had been decades since she had required blood in order to sip the prana of another.

“You are linked to him now,” Amunet intoned.

That was the risk, the reason that members of the Asetian Guard were not to feed from any full-blooded supernatural. A one-way psychic link, with information flowing to the Guard, would be acceptable. But there was no way to guarantee that. The possibility existed that information would flow both ways. The risk of that increased if there were repeated feedings.

She thought of the dream she had had at the base of the mountain. A dream was not a link. It was only the conjuring of her imagination that had brought him to her. If the soul reaper truly had found her and entered her mind, he wouldn’t have wanted to kiss her. After the way she’d left him, burning like a torch, his car stolen, his prize stolen, more likely he’d want to kill her.

“At the base of the mountain, I slept briefly before I climbed,” Calliope said. “The soul reaper featured in my nightmare.” Nothing but the truth. It was a nightmare to imagine engaging in sexual congress with a soul reaper. Doubly so because she’d almost done exactly that at her own instigation the night she had lured him to the basement of the club.

“Understandable, but do you know if it was only a dream and not a true connection?”

“I felt no link,” Calliope said. “I feel none now.”

“No?” Beset asked, sounding almost amused. “Have you sought it? Reached for it?”

“No.” The very thought of crawling into the soul reaper’s thoughts was disturbing.

“Do so now.”

Calliope blinked. Of course, they would order her to do that. It was exactly the course that made the most sense. They needed to know if she shared thoughts with the soul reaper now that she had shared his life force.

She took a slow breath, knowing that argument was futile. Knowing, too, that this must be done. The choices she had made had all been to protect the Guard; it would be bitter irony were she the one to lead the soul reapers directly to them.

“If you find him, if your thoughts become one with his, we will know,” Hathor said. “And your freedom will be permanently forfeited. If you can see through his eyes, we will be forced to consider the likelihood that he can see through yours. We cannot risk that he will discover this place, discover us. You understand this?”

Despite the circumstances, Calliope’s lips turned in a dark smile. Did it matter if she understood? Would her preferences matter? She preferred to stay alive and free. She would have preferred to have never tasted the soul reaper’s cursed blood. But it had been the right choice in the circumstances. Even viewed through the clear glass of hindsight, magnified and clarified, it had been the right choice. Her assignment had been to retrieve Kuznetsov. She’d completed her assignment. Taking the reaper’s blood had been a means to an end.

“Understood.” Her stomach churned at the thought that he might invade her mind, know her secrets.

As though sensing Calliope’s concerns, Amunet explained, “If your efforts do produce a link, be at ease for your privacy. He will not know all. Such a link is more of a dreamlike state. It is not mind reading, but rather a sense of the other being. He might share the scene that is before your eyes in that moment, or you may share a view of what is before his eyes. But unless you are thinking about them in that moment, he will not be able to crawl through your memories, or you through his.”