Sins of the Soul

“The circumstances of her revelation were life or death, and she didn’t exactly tell anyone. It was more of an accidental discovery.” He held his hand up, palm forward. “That story is not relevant at the moment. But it might interest you to know that Dae was Roxy’s first blood.”


“What? You mean…they…” She shook her head, completely mystified. Roxy Tam had taken the blood of a soul reaper. She couldn’t imagine that. From the second that she’d understood what she was, she’d been told that Sutekh and his soul reapers were the ultimate enemy. The purest evil.

Except Alastor wasn’t.

He’d saved her ass. Saved Marie’s ass as well, though if she was honest she’d have to admit that was more by happenstance than intent.

She wasn’t going to paint him as a saint when she knew he was a sinner.

“Now that we’ve established my knowledge of first blood, give me your story. Make it clear and concise.” He was back to ordering her around. “I am not going into Izanami’s realm unprepared.”

No. Of course he wasn’t. He liked to be in control. No doubt he planned for every possible contingency. Alastor didn’t like to simply run with things. If she’d figured out anything about him, she’d figured out that much.

And really, what did her secret matter? He was Sutekh’s son. It wasn’t like he could judge her for the company she kept.

“I sold my soul to a demon so I could survive.”

“So you said before.” Something indecipherable flashed in his eyes. Whatever it was, he hid it quickly, and it left her feeling uneasy, like there was something he knew and wasn’t sharing. “You said that instead of working for the devil you knew, you ended up working for the devil you didn’t. Explain.” His tone promised that now was not a good opportunity to ask him any questions. More of a time for her to be offering answers.

She blew out a breath. “About six years ago, I had some shit go down. I left the Asetian Guard.”

“Why?” Clipped. Cold. He expected an answer.

“They wanted me to step up, and I didn’t like the smell of the shit they were asking me to step in. There are three lineages of the Daughters of Aset. Keeper. Adaptive. And my lineage, Guide. We’re aggressive by nature. Predatory.” She huffed out a breath. “Once blooded, Guides kill people. Those who threaten the hierarchy of the Asetian Guard.”

“And you appear to be extremely competent at it. I fail to see the difficulty.”

“Yeah, me too.” She took a deep breath. “Now.”

“Naphré.” A growled warning. Alastor Krayl was growing impatient. “I didn’t want to kill people. I didn’t want to be an assassin. I’d already carved the dark mark in my skin, but hadn’t taken first blood. I tried to explain that I wanted out, that I wanted to do something different. I was young. I was torn. Duty against morals.” She gave an ugly laugh. “That’s funny, isn’t it? Me talking about morals now.”

“Go on.”

She did. The words came in a rush now. “It was a mess. A big fucking mess. I was a mess. My dad and grandfather raised me. You know what it’s like to be raised with those expectations, those traditions? The Japanese culture is all about respect and duty. I’m all about duty. That’s who I am…was…and I ran away from who I was supposed to be. Like a coward.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t reassure. Just listened.

“I was twenty years old. I was freaked out and afraid. I tried to go to my superior, to tell her how I felt. She was away on a retreat, so I went to her superior.

“You know what I found? My mother! I found that her superior was my mother. My missing mother. The one who’d left me. She left me. For the Asetian Guard. Put duty over her daughter. And you know what? The worst part of it was, I hated her for that, but I understood, too. I understood. She gave up everything for them, her daughter, her husband, and I didn’t want to.

“I freaked. I ran. And got caught in what amounted to the perfect storm. I was in the middle of fucking nowhere. I hitched a ride and made it to a gas station. Called my father. He came for me, even though I’d left him without a word or an explanation. Hours later, there we were, in the car, all buckled up nice and safe, driving down the highway. A gravel truck came at us from the opposite direction. A car turned out in front of it. That was the perfect storm. The truck swerved to miss the car. Hit us instead.

“I was hurt. Broken ribs. Fractured thighbone. I was bleeding. Weak. And there was a horrible pressure low in my belly. I think I must have been bleeding inside. But my dad was worse. His chest was ripped open and blood was pulsing out in spurts. On my hands. On the seat. He was going to die. I think maybe I was going to die, too.”

Her heart was racing and she felt sick as the memories took her. Alastor brushed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Just that. It was enough to steady her.

“I was sobbing, praying, begging for help. Promising anything if my dad could just live. The car was a twisted mess. There were sparks. The smell of gasoline.