A Necessary Sin: The Sin Trilogy: Book I

I don’t really want her in here with me when I piss for the first time. I’m expecting blood—maybe lots of it considering the abuse my kidneys and bladder took. I’m afraid she’ll freak out. “Come on, Bonny Bleu. You won’t even take a piss without closing the door.”


“I shut the door because I’m a lady and I prefer you didn’t know I have bodily functions. You, on the other hand, use the toilet in front of me all the time. You’re not shy so there’s no need to start now.”

“Don’t fight me on this.”

She sighs and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

I finish using the toilet and I’m glad she wasn’t with me. It was a lot of blood—enough I should probably tell Jamie. I’m not sure that’s normal even for what I went through. “All done.”

She helps me back to bed and removes my prosthesis. “Can I get you something to eat?”

I was hit in the gut too many times to have much of an appetite. “Maybe something to drink. A Johnnie Walker.”

“You’ve mixed enough whisky with narcotics. I’ll get you tea instead.”

I smile at her retreating figure. She’s going to be a total pain in my ass while I recover. And I love it.



* * *



It’s been a week since endurance. I’m much better, thanks to Bleu’s excellent nursing, so it’s time for her initiation into The Fellowship. The ceremony is taking place at my parents’ country estate outside of Edinburgh. My mum has gone all out, making it a formal affair. It’s the complete opposite of the usual meeting in the conference room with a few witnesses, followed by lots of whisky at Duncan’s.

Mum’s plans for Bleu’s inception aren’t routine but they’re fitting. Neither Bleu nor our relationship are typical. Her acceptance into our circle is the first of its kind; therefore, her commencement should be as well.

I stand outside the bathroom door and check my watch. “Bonny, are you almost ready? If we leave right now, we’ll still be five minutes late.”

“Just a few more minutes.” Right. She said that ten minutes ago when we should have been leaving.

Fifteen minutes later she comes out of the bathroom smoothing the front of her clothing. “I’m not sure about the dress. What do you think?”

It’s sexy—black, fitted, and short. A combination that can never go wrong on my bonny lass. Her hair is pinned away from her face on each side and cascades down her back. Suddenly every minute she spent getting ready, including those that will cause us to be late, becomes worth it. She’s breathtaking.

“I’ve never seen you look more lovely.” No one will look at her and wonder why I was willing to go through hell and back.

“Good. Then I’m ready to go.”

“Not yet.” I take out the box I’ve been hiding in my jacket pocket. “I have something for you to wear.”

I flip the top so she may see the Celtic knot pendant I had made for her. “Oh, Breck. It’s beautiful.” She takes a longer look and I wait for her to make the connection. “Is that what I think it is?” I smile and she knows the answer. “It matches your tattoo.”

“I could’ve chosen something more feminine—or romantic—but you seemed to really like my Celtic shield. And I liked the idea of us wearing matching ones, even though mine is ink and yours is platinum.”

“I love it.” She turns and pulls her hair from her neck. “Will you?”

“Aye.”

I close the clasp.

She frees her hair and goes to the mirror to take a look. She touches the pendant hanging in the dip of her throat. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”



* * *



Mum steals Bleu from my side within minutes of our arrival. This is about so much more than a Fellowship ceremony for my mother. She’s delighted to introduce Bleu as my lass. She too has become quite taken with her. And that makes me happy.

We enjoy drinks and hors d’oeuvres before my father calls everyone out into the garden area. A large tent protects tables covered in white cloths and adorned with lit candles and huge floral arrangements. It looks more like a wedding reception than an initiate ceremony.

“We gather here tonight to receive Bleu into The Fellowship as one of our own. Come forward, Sinclair and Bleu.” We join my father on the portable wooden dance floor next to a tall table in the center. It’s garnished to match the larger tables throughout with one exception—a dagger.

I purposely didn’t tell Bleu about this part. “Liam Sinclair Breckenridge, do you accept responsibility for Bleu MacAllister?”

“I do.”

“Take the dagger.” I lift it as my father instructs. Without any warning, I grasp Bleu’s hand and drag the blade across the center of her palm. She gasps, either in pain or surprise. I’m not sure which. I pierce my own and lace our fingers together so we’re palm to palm. Blood runs the length of our forearms, collecting at our elbows.

“Will you have her as your novice and guide her in the ways of the brotherhood?”

“Aye.” I squeeze her hand, my eyes locked on hers. “I will have her.”

“Repeat after me, Bleu.”