Chapter 5
Ruadan
For a second, I almost felt bad for the guy.
He was clearly dizzy and disoriented, an effect of the shadows, and he’d nearly collapsed, propped up against the wall.
His hood had fallen back during the chase, revealing his short brown hair, soaked with sweat and clinging to his forehead, and his face looked pale and clammy as he rested his head back against the dark brick.
The tendrils of black smoke I’d seen seeping from him were nowhere to be seen now, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t existed.
That he didn’t still have answers for me.
I hardened my heart against the tender pity that tried to flare up for him.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I told him, while also reminding myself that I wasn’t the bad guy here. “I’m just doing my job. I’m a private investigator, and I think you might have some information for me. Nothing more.”
He made a soft snort in disbelief but otherwise didn’t move, so with cuffs in one hand, I approached him slowly, as if he were a feral animal, liable to bite.
He didn’t fight me, which if I’d been paying proper attention, should’ve been a red flag.
Nobody ran like that, only to give in at the first sign of defeat.
When I went to put the cuff on him, the guy’s eyes snapped open, and the first thing I noticed was how they weren’t just brown, but flecked with yellow and orange, like autumn leaves.
The second thing I noticed, just a fraction of a second too late, was that I’d made a huge mistake.
He wasn’t too tired at all.
He dodged with a speed that seemed to surprise us both. His mouth popped open, eyes wide as they locked on mine, and I felt his shock, but it quickly shifted into a sly smirk.
Narrowing my eyes, I took a step toward him, and he mirrored the move, backing away.
Another step, another retreat. The alley was a dead-end behind him, he had nowhere to go, so I kept moving on him, aiming to box him in.
He backpedaled, keeping a few feet of space between us, but he gasped when his back came up against the wall.
“Gotcha,” I gloated with a smirk, swiping at him, but he spun away, darting past me.
“Not yet you don’t,” he huffed, sounding almost amused as he made a break toward the street.
Reaching, I managed to hook a finger in the back of his hoodie and swung him back around. I didn’t want to hurt the lad, but if I didn’t put some muscle into it, he was going to slip through my fingers again. Shite, how was he so fast? What manner of beast was he?
Every time I thought I had him, he managed to duck, dodge, or scramble away. I’d be annoyed if I wasn’t having so much fun. “You’re a spicy one, aren’t you?” I said with a breathless chuckle as he swatted my hand aside and ducked under my arm.
I finally managed to catch one of his wrists in mine.
It was too delicate, narrow enough that my fingers touched over his pulse point, his heart racing beneath my touch.
His skin was strangely cool as his sweat evaporated.
This close, I could pick up on his subtle scent, like dark chocolate, though unfortunately masked by sweat and sour adrenaline.
Frankly, he smelled delicious, and I couldn’t help breathing him into my lungs, like a man starved.
He looked right at me with those amber eyes, and something inside me twisted, almost to the point of pain.
I had no excuse for being distracted by him.
It was my own fault, I allowed him to get under my skin.
A gasp burst from my lips as he used my grip on him to his advantage, yanking me closer and throwing me off balance.
I should’ve just let go, but he moved faster than I would’ve thought possible—for a human, anyway.
I teetered forward and braced on the wall where he’d just been, and with a lightning-fast flick of his wrist, he reached across with his other hand and caught the cuffs.
“No!” I shouted right as I heard the metallic click. The man backpedaled away from me, and I snapped a hand out to grab him, but my fingers could do no more than brush against his shirt before my body came up short, my own cuffs tight around my wrist, locking me to the fire escape ladder.
I chuckled darkly, shaking my head. Fool, I scolded myself.
I’d been doing this for thousands of years—spying, solving mysteries, catching the bad guys—but too easily I’d allowed myself to be taken in by a pretty face.
In this moment, I was no god. I was reduced to nothing but a horny alpha—and I’d paid the price for it.
“What now, little mouse?” I asked, smirking at him.
“There’s nowhere left for you to go.” I gestured behind him to the dead end.
I might have been handcuffed to the ladder, but the alley was narrow enough that he wouldn’t easily be able to slip past me.
His expression shuttered as he realized this too.
He spun around, looking for another exit, perhaps the back door of a business he could knock on, but at this time of night, everything was shut up tight. “Fuck…” he muttered, dejected, game over.
I didn’t want to admit that I felt a flicker of amusement toward the intriguing man.
Who was this guy? He was tricky like a demon, and his looks certainly invited me to sin, so maybe that was it.
Although in my experience, there was always a tint of sulfur on demons, and this man was far tastier.
His lips were ripe, his face accented with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones, far too pretty to be a creature of Hell.
But he was no angel either… Incubus, maybe?
I tugged on the cuffs to test the ladder’s durability, and flakes of rust floated down. I debated reaching for the key in my pocket. Would he be able to get past me, get away before I could free myself? It would help if I knew what his abilities were.
“Who are you?” I finally asked with mounting curiosity. “What are you?”
He quirked an eyebrow as he brushed back his damp hair. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be asking questions. Why don’t you tell me what you are.”
My laugh was low and rough. “You’ve got quite the balls on you, you know that? But I’m feeling in a generous mood, so I’ll tell you. My name is Ruadan, and like I already told you, I’m a private investigator.” I reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a business card, flicking it his way.
He bent down to retrieve it, frowning as he read. “No last name?” he asked. “What, like Cher or Adele or something? Are you a diva?”
“I’m a bit old for last names.” I chuckled. Old was an understatement.
“But that doesn’t explain the whole…” he wiggled his fingers in the air, “smoke-monster trick. You’re not exactly human.”
He seemed surprisingly calm as he said it, which made sense, since he was clearly something beyond human too.
“You’re right,” I said, nodding slowly as I offered him a crumb, hoping he might be in the mood to reciprocate.
“I am also the god of spying, and being able to shapeshift allows me a certain freedom to intrude where I might not be otherwise welcome.”
The man inhaled sharply but seemed to absorb the information. “Okay, but… then why were you chasing me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“If you haven’t done anything wrong, then why were you running?” I countered. “You know who runs? Guilty people.”
“Or ones who feel threatened,” he said, baring his teeth in a sneer. “You should really work on your people skills. Next time, try introducing yourself first.”
I didn’t bother explaining that most people wouldn’t have noticed me there in the shadows.
I was actually quite stealthy, under normal circumstances.
I sighed. “Look, I’m working a case in coordination with the district attorney, tracking down information on a series of crimes with some…
disturbing similarities. And you,” I said, narrowing my eyes on him, “smelled off to me. There was black smoke leaking out of you. What can I say, I was curious, so I followed you.”
“W-What?” He bit down on his lower lip, a true crime with lips like those. At the very least, it should’ve been me biting it. “Th-That’s not possible,” he stuttered.
“Look, why don’t we start small. What’s your name?” I asked, using the kind of voice used for children and skittish animals.
Frowning, he seemed to debate whether that would be admitting too much. He must’ve decided it was safe, because he finally said, “Ulysses Teresi. Uly, for short.” I gestured for him to continue, and like admitting some great secret, he added, “I’m a sin-eater.”
Interesting… I narrowed my eyes, scanning him head to toe. “It’s been a long time since I ran into one of your kind. I don’t remember them being so…” Hot, I thought. “…out of shape,” I said instead. “Your legs are wobbling.”
His face scrunched up, and I took great satisfaction in the angry blush that rose to his cheeks as he locked his wobbly knees and stood as straight as he could.
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m normally in much better shape, but I just…
had a large lunch.” His blush turned embarrassed and deepened further to a dusky rose that only enhanced his appeal.
“And was that the smoke I saw streaming out behind you?” I asked, catching what kind of meal he was implying. “Sin?”
He sighed, deflating, his eyes drifting off. “I guess. That’s never happened before.”
My interest pinged at that, and I followed my instincts; they’d never steered me wrong before. “Tell me, sin-eater, was there anything strange about this meal?” I asked, fishing. “Anything else that stood out?”
He let out a little snort, crossing his arms over his chest. “How about all of it,” he muttered, and thankfully he elaborated without coaxing.
“He was an elderly man, but he died violently. And when I purged his sin, it was… cloying, thick enough that I choked on it. And it tasted awful, like nothing I’d ever consumed before.
Like, like tar.” He chewed on his thumbnail for a second, thinking. “And they paid in cash—a lot of it.”
“That’s odd?” I asked.
Uly shrugged. “There’s no set price for my services. I often get paid in return favors or possessions, like heirlooms or even food.”
“What was the man’s name?” I asked, mentally drawing up the list of perps and victims given to me by Lagamal.
“Samuel Lear,” he said, and I tried to hide my disappointment. Damn, not someone known to the case, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somehow involved.
The sin-eater shifted, his shoes scraping on grit. “So… can I leave then? I’ve told you anything I know.”
I glared at him. “No, you can’t leave. You’re still a suspect.”
“But—” he sputtered indignantly. “I answered your questions! I had nothing to do with any crimes.”
“Like I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” I had to admit, I was enjoying keeping my cool, while this little firecracker blew a fuse. Getting under his skin could easily become my new obsession.
Uly fisted his short hair in frustration. “I was just walking down the street, which I presume wasn’t the crime scene?” He pointed a finger at me, glaring. “You’re discriminating against me because of what I am!”
While I wanted to dispute the accusation, I had to admit it was a little hard to assume his innocence when sin was baked right into his DNA.
So instead, I said, “How about you just agree to hang out with me for the evening. No handcuffs, I promise. We’ll take a look at some police reports and see if we can’t find out how your client died.
And if everything is kosher, then you’re free to go. ”
His lips thinned into a hard line, nostrils flaring with a huff. “Or I could just fight my way past you.”
“You could try…” I drawled, giving my cuffed wrist a hard tug, snapping the rusted run right off the ladder with a loud clang. He opened his mouth to keep arguing, but I cut him off. “If I wanted to hurt you, sin-eater, I would’ve done it already. I’ll even buy you dinner as an apology.”
Uly sighed, and I could see him thinking through his options, which admittedly weren’t great.
“Come on,” I coaxed gently, offering my hand. “Truce?”
He stared at my hand for a long moment, before finally nodding and reaching out to set his hand in mine, his palm cool and soft as silk, in contrast to my callused grip. “Truce… for now.”