Page 18 of Magic of Sins (Magic of Sins #1)

I don’t dare ask when exactly it was that he stopped. Was it when I started unbuttoning his pants? Or much earlier, when I climbed onto his lap? What must he think of me now?

Shamefaced, I move away from him and lean against the wall, tucking my legs up against me. Caden puts his hand on mine, stroking it gently with his thumb.

“Thanks. You probably saved my life.”

He says it like I’ve been stitching up wounds and changing bandages instead of climbing all over him, driven by desire. And I’m grateful to him for that.

“Are you feeling better?” I ask, immediately annoyed at my squeaky voice.

Caden’s hand is still on mine—warm and big and reassuring.

“Much better,” he says.

I’m waiting for a stupid comment like, We should do that again sometime. But it’s not coming. Does he even want to? Maybe I did such a bad job at it that he’s glad to have it over with. My heart restricts painfully at the thought. I stare straight ahead at the steel door in front of us. I’ve never been so uncomfortable about anything in my life. Never have I felt so guilty—or so alive. As if I were on fire. I felt so… free.

“Now what?” I ask.

Caden leans his head against the wall at his back.

“Now we wait.”

The hours pass. It never gets totally dark in our prison. Probably because there’s a streetlight outside the small grated window. Its yellowish light eventually gives way to dawn. Caden’s still holding my hand. I don’t dare to move, just as I can’t look at him after what’s happened.

“What are we going to do if your people don’t show up?” I ask him.

“They’re coming.”

Caden sounds more confident than I feel. Despite his coat around my shoulders, I’m practically frozen now. My teeth chatter, and my eyes keep wanting to close, but I’m afraid to fall asleep. Jared or Syrus might come back, and I don’t want to be defenseless against them when they do.

“Tell me something.”

Caden lifts his head and looks over at me. When he sees me shaking, he puts his arm around me and pulls me toward him. I should push him away, but instead I snuggle up to his body, savoring his warmth.

“What do you want to hear?” His chest vibrates with each word.

“Tell me something about yourself. Did you grow up in the East End? What was it like for you to use your powers for the first time?”

He stiffens, and for a moment I’m sure I went too far.

“I’m sorry, I—” I begin, but Caden interrupts me.

“I grew up in the West End. My father was a cobbler, my mother a seamstress. They had a shop together in Carnaby Street.”

If I expected anything, it wasn’t that. I look up at Caden in surprise.

“But aren’t your parents sin mages? How come you grew up in the West End?”

“They thought they could keep what they were a secret from the world.”

There’s a sadness to him now, and I don’t dare to ask anything further. But I don’t have to because Caden keeps talking.

“Everything went well for a while. Sure, people were suspicious after the riots, but my parents were careful. I don’t know if they ever fed on anyone—they never did around me, anyway. They tried to deny their heritage as best they could. Only I wasn’t in control of my sin magic yet. I was young and brash. And once, when two of my classmates got into a fight, my powers erupted. I was so surprised by it that the teacher quickly found the culprit and I was sent home. In those days, no one knew how to handle situations like that. After all, I was just a little boy. But that very evening, three members of the Guard showed up at our door.”

I swallow. I can tell by looking at Caden that he’s struggling to get the words past his lips. His eyes are wet. He puts his head back and takes a deep breath before continuing with his story.

“They were the most harmless and kind people I knew. When the guards came, my father offered them tea. He apologized to them for the inconvenience, and they…”

I entwine my fingers with his, wanting to give him the strength to continue talking. This gesture, which once scared me so much, suddenly seems like the most natural thing in the world.

“They beat my parents to death in front of me.” Caden speaks quickly now, as if he needs to get the words out. Like he’s ripping off a band-aid. “My gentle mother, who could never hurt a fly, spent her last breath inciting the wrath of the guards. She managed to get the two men to turn on each other. In their rage, they went at each other with their batons, and I managed to escape.”

Silence.

I barely dare to breathe after that awful story. A tear drips from Caden’s cheek onto my forehead. He wipes his face and when I look at him, he smiles grimly.

“Sorry, that probably wasn’t the bedtime story you wanted to hear.”

I don’t know how to respond. I’m sorry seems too small, too insignificant for all that he’s been through. I raise my hand to his cheek, where the bruise is just barely visible now, and brush away his tears with my thumb.

Right then, a key turns in the door lock.

Caden and I leap to our feet at the same time. His tears are gone. The soft expression on his face has turned back into an impenetrable mask. But when the door opens and a man with black hair and Asian features pokes his head in, he relaxes a little.

“Choi! What took you so long? I was beginning to think you were going to leave us in here to rot.”

A grin spreads across the man’s face. It’s so engaging that I want to smile back at him.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d get yourself locked in a basement dungeon instead of being the knight in shining armor?” He winks at me. “Kaya, I assume. Caden wasn’t exaggerating.”

“Excuse me?”

Confused, I look back and forth between the two men.

“When he said how pretty you are.”

Choi says it lightly, but Caden’s cheeks actually turn a little pink. So, there are some things that can embarrass a sin mage like him after all.

“Shall we, my lady?” Choi asks and gestures toward the door.

“It’s Your Royal Highness , actually,” I correct him and have to grin despite everything that’s happened in the past few hours.

As we step out into the hallway, I catch sight of Rey. Armed with two knives, she gives me a curt nod. She has assumed the wary stance of a predator. At least there’s no blood on either blade.

“How did you guys get in?” Caden asks.

“Through the sewers,” Rey replies as she keeps a lookout for any of Jared’s men.

Considering how they entered the building, the two still look quite impressive, Choi in his black suit and Rey in black motorcycle leathers. She no longer looks as tame as when we first met.

Caden holds a hand over his mouth and nose, groaning. “That explains this unbearable stench.”

It’s not as bad as he implies. Choi chuckles, but Rey looks seriously offended.

“How about next time you don’t get involved with petty thugs like Jared,” she suggests. “I can think of better things to do than saving your ass. I’ve got a hot bath and a bottle of red wine waiting for me back home.”

“Well, you will definitely need that bath later,” Caden comments dryly. “Which way, you guys?”

We follow Choi and Rey to a corridor that I didn’t notice when I was first led through here.

“A wine cellar,” Caden notes, grabbing one of the green bottles as he passes. He wipes away the layer of dust that has formed on it and eyes the label. “Did anyone remember to bring an opener?”

“Give me that!”

Rey works the cork with one of her knives, while Choi pushes aside a few wine crates to reveal a small passage.

“Can we please hurry before Jared or any of the other idiots notice us?” he says. “I know you wouldn’t mind a fight, Rey, but I don’t want to ruin my suit.”

“Spoilsport!” Caden grumbles.

Rey makes a triumphant sound and raises her knife into the air, with the cork pierced on the tip. Caden reaches for the bottle and takes a big swig.

“Do you want some?”

He wants to hand me the bottle, but I shake my head. This is the weirdest escape I’ve ever seen. Not that I have much experience with this sort of thing.

We all freeze as a squeaking sound comes from above. It must be the steel door that leads to the cellar.

“Stop being such a grouch,” I hear Jared’s voice say. “Someone needed to teach that pompous jerk a lesson. Who does he think he is? The king of the East End?”

“ Pompous jerk ,” Rey whispers. “I think he’s talking about you, Caden.”

Choi pushes us all into the low passage behind the wine crates. He seems to be the only one out of the three of us who’s taking the situation seriously. If Jared finds us here, he’ll call for backup. And I’d rather not find out if we’re up to another fight.

Jared’s footsteps are getting closer. He’s stopped talking. Presumably the person he was talking to is still upstairs in the club. My heart skips a beat as he enters the wine cellar. We’re standing not three steps away from him in the narrow hallway. The wine crates only half cover us. It would have made too much noise to push them back into place.

Jared hums to himself as he strides along the racks. His finger slides over the bottles. When he gets to the empty spot where the bottle Caden grabbed is missing, he pauses and falls silent. With a furrowed brow, he examines the empty spot.

Damn!

My heart is beating so loud now, I’m surprised he can’t hear it. Caden’s hand closes reassuringly around mine. Rey braces herself. Her blue and green eyes flash dangerously, and the way she holds her knives tells me she’s ready to pounce on Jared should he spot us.

“Has that son of a bitch been helping himself to my Burgundy again?” Jared mumbles.

He turns away and leaves the basement with quick steps.

“Syrus!” I hear him bellow. “Syrus, how many times have I told you…”

“Go!” Choi hisses.

He pushes us deeper into the corridor before pulling on the wine crates to cover our escape route. The path is narrow, and sand and gravel crunch under my shoes. Water drips down from the stone ceiling. At least, I hope it’s water.

We follow the passage down for a while until we come to a larger, vault-like one. It’s mostly taken up by a murky brown river, but there are narrow ledges to the left and right of it on which one can walk dry-footed.

Choi leads our small group, with Caden and me in the middle and Rey bringing up the rear.

“Nasty!” Caden comments on the biting stench of the sewers. “I should have taken the time to drink the whole bottle, then at least I wouldn’t have to walk through here sober.”

I stifle a squeak as a rat crosses my path.

Don’t look. Just don’t look.

“This is the way out.”

Choi points to an alcove. There are rungs in the wall, and daylight filters in from above. He quickly and skillfully climbs up to the exit.

“You’re next.” Caden pushes me toward the ladder.

My skirt gets tangled several times before I reach the top. On the last steps Choi stretches out his bare hand to help me up. I hesitate to take it, but after everything that’s happened, it really doesn’t seem like such a big deal to touch someone’s hand anymore. Surely a brief touch doesn’t hold a candle to me kissing Caden.

Jesus, I kissed Caden.

I let Choi pull me up. Caden and Rey soon follow.

Cool morning air wafts over me. The day is gray, the sun still hiding somewhere behind the clouds. We are standing on a street, smack-dab in the middle of the East End with casinos and clubs all around us, but everything is deserted. A drunkard sleeps between two garbage cans, a bottle still in his hand. A shaggy dog roams the street, sniffs a lamppost, then lifts its leg. I guess the residents of East End aren’t morning people.

“Should we go to the Asmodia?” Caden asks, plucking the white handkerchief from Choi’s lapels to wipe his hands, which still have his blood on them.

The others nod.

The Asmodia is a brothel named after the lord of lust, Caden explains to me with a wink. It’s owned by a friend of his. As soon as I enter the building, which looks more like an elegant club from the outside, I feel dizzy. Caden holds me up so that I don’t sink to my knees.

“Looks like someone hasn’t gotten a grip on their powers yet,” Rey comments, unable to keep a smirk from her face.

Choi smiles apologetically at me, as if it’s his fault that sin permeates this place like a thick fog.

I feel like I’m going to choke on its taste. Coughing, I bend over. I feel feverish and my head aches. I am only vaguely aware of my surroundings.

The entrance area has an Asian look. Wooden lanterns bathe a cozy seating area in dim light. Heavy, golden-yellow curtains separate the hall from a room to our right. I catch a brief glimpse of what lies beyond as Choi pushes them aside, but a wave of nausea rolls over me and makes me cringe again.

“Maybe offer her some of your wine,” Rey suggests to Caden, but I wave him off.

The very idea makes me feel even worse.

“I should have expected this,” Caden mutters, stroking my back reassuringly. “Come on, we’ll go to one of the rooms upstairs. Choi, tell Catherine to bring us some tea and bread.”

“Tea and bread?” Rey grimaces, looking disgusted. “I’m not even sure they serve something that boring here. How about hot chocolate and cake instead?”

“Tea and bread,” Caden repeats firmly, lifting me into his arms.

I gasp in shock as I lose my footing, but everything’s still spinning and I’m kind of glad I don’t have to climb the winding stairs to the second floor on my own two feet.

From somewhere I can hear soft, melancholic music playing. A flowery scent hits my nose, and I swallow against the nausea. We enter a room, and Caden gets me into the adjoining bathroom just in time for me to vomit into the toilet bowl.

“Don’t worry, we’ve all had to go through it,” he says as he brushes my hair out of my face and hands me a damp washcloth. “At first, all the sinning can be overwhelming, but you get used to it. Do you want me to leave you alone so you can shower and freshen up?”

I nod. The dizziness has eased a little since we put a door and two floors between us and the action on the ground level. I haven’t seen much—just a couple of scantily clad girls and two gentlemen who pointedly looked the other way when Choi pulled the curtain aside. They were probably uncomfortable being seen here.

It’s still early morning. I imagine these rooms will be much more crowded in the evening. Hopefully I’ll be far away from here by then.

After Caden leaves, I rip off the awful princess dress Jared forced me to wear. I want to rip it to shreds, but I don’t know if Caden has any spare clothes for me. The idea of having to put the thing back on makes the nausea rise again.

I step into the shower on wobbly legs. I feel numb. The hot water splashes against my back, but I hardly notice it. Memories crowd in, weighing me down and eventually cause me to lie down on the floor of the tub, arms wrapped around my legs.

In my mind, I list all the things I’ve experienced in the last few days, especially the last few hours. Each one feels like a punch to the gut.

Number one, I’m a sin mage.

Number two, the king is my father. Which makes me a princess and the rightful heir to the throne, since I’m older than Ophelia.

Speaking of… Number three, Ophelia is my half-sister. I have a sister, and she seems to be the only ray of hope in all this darkness right now.

Number four, Caden knew all of this and didn’t tell me. I still don’t know what part I play in his little game. Did he really think he was freeing me by bringing out my powers? Or was there more to it than that?

And finally, number five, Ava…

Lying there. Dead. Murdered.

My best friend is dead because I’m carrying a dark secret.

The water from the shower mixes with my tears. I try to find the strength to stand up again, but it all seems so terribly pointless. After a while the water starts to turn cold, but I barely notice. Ava’s gone, and she’s never coming back. How am I supposed to go on now?

From the next room I hear the clatter of dishes and Caden talking to a woman. It must be that Catherine he was talking about. Maybe she’s the owner of the brothel.

After the woman says her goodbyes and her footsteps depart, I make myself get up. I can’t sit here forever. Maybe Caden will take me back to the palace. I don’t want to go back to my apartment. Not after everything that’s happened.

I quickly dry myself off. On a hook by the door I find a fluffy white bathrobe, which I put on instead of the horrible princess dress. In the mirror I check my face for traces of tears. I can’t do anything about the redness in my eyes, but hopefully Caden will blame it on fatigue.

When I come out of the bathroom, he’s sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his fingers interlaced behind his head. Next to him is a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a few buttered biscuits. He sits up and looks at me anxiously.

“Are you feeling better?”

I nod and settle on the edge of the bed, trying to subtly wipe at my face because his question brings fresh tears to my eyes.

He nods as well. “That’s good, because we still have a ways to go,” he says.

And that’s when I realize this nightmare is far from over.