Chapter 9 #2
Uly scooped up a forkful of eggs onto his toast and took a bite, sighing as he chewed.
A thrill of satisfaction ripple through me.
He might not have needed to eat, but it sure looked like he enjoyed it.
And I enjoyed watching his mouth as he devoured the food I’d made for him.
“I was thinking maybe we could map out the crimes, see if there’s any pattern to the locations?
And then, if we assume they’re based on basic human urges—greed, wrath, lust, you know, essentially the seven deadly sins—then we might be able to make some predictions about where they could hit next.
Ooh! Can we do a stakeout? I’ve always wanted to do a stakeout! Is it just like you see on the movies?”
“No, not exactly,” I said, reluctant to admit how dull it could be to just…
wait. He had this childlike enthusiasm that kindled a spark inside me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed my calling, but just being around him sent a flutter through me, reminding me of what it had been like in the beginning.
Uly continued, undeterred. “You know, I’d bet I could track the scent.”
“What scent?” I asked, lowering my fork to my plate.
“Every sin carries its own unique scent and flavor. Like, greed is chocolate and strawberries, sweet and fruity, but with a hint of bitterness. Sloth is like rich savory tarts and buttery pastry. It’s not always easy to tell with a single sniff what sins live in a person’s hearts, because some flavors are more overpowering than others, and they all blend together into an entire banquet.
” I was suddenly dying to know what I smelled like to him, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
He continued, “But the sins I purged from Samuel, it wasn’t like anything I’d ever come across before.
If the cases are related, I know I would recognize that scent again.
You just need to get me close enough to take a whiff. I’ll track them down for you.”
The idea of Ulysses getting close to someone who was possibly possessed, undoubtedly dangerous, grabbed my stomach in a fist and squeezed. Nope, I didn’t like that idea at all.
But I soon found that sin-eaters were particularly stubborn—or at least this one was.
As soon as we were done eating, he’d cleared the table and began unfolding a large paper map of the city—who the hell still used paper maps?
—marking all the locations of the crimes with a neat little X in red Sharpie.
“Look! Most of them took place downtown, almost all of them at night. Our best bet would be to set up shop in the area and listen to the police scanner, ready to move at a moment’s notice. ”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked across the table at the sin-eater, with his flickering eyes and frustratingly warm smile.
Every survival instinct I had said to keep my guard up around this man.
I refused to be manipulated by a pretty face.
On principle alone, I wanted to shoot down his plan, tell him it was an awful idea, but I had admit, there was a certain simplicity to it that might just work.
After all, I’d stumbled onto the sin-eater while just wandering around downtown. Maybe fate would throw me another bone.
“This is going to be so fun! We’ll load up on snacks, and I know a guy with a van we can borrow. He owns a plumbing company, and the side is marked with their logo. It’ll be the perfect disguise. Nobody ever suspects a plumber!” he said eagerly.
I shook my head, frowning. “Everyone suspects the plumber,” I snapped without thinking.
“And the phone company, electrician—any van without windows, actually, is innately suspicious.” I usually worked alone, so I’d simply blurted out my thoughts, and I felt immediate regret for poking a hole in his plan when his smile slipped.
“Oh… Right.” He shrugged, leaning back from the map to wrap his arms around his middle. “I guess I should stay in my own lane, right?”
Well, shit. I hated the look on his face, like a kicked puppy, and I hated even more that I was the one who put it there.
“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways we could set up a stakeout,” I said, scrambling to say anything to get that bright-eyed look of enthusiasm back on his face.
I couldn’t seem to fight this instinct to make everything better for him.
“It’s a good idea, really,” I assured him. “What kind of snacks should we get?”
He shook his head, smiling dimly. “It’s fine, you don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”
“It’s not—” I began to explain, hoping to smooth over his hurt feelings.
I huffed. “If spying were easy, everyone would be doing it. I’ve been doing it for thousands of years, using gods-given abilities, and I still don’t always get it right.
Just look at how quickly you picked up that I was following you, and I was literally made of shadows. ”
His eyes flicked up, curiosity lighting his gaze. “Were you born with the ability to shapeshift?”
“No.” I laughed bitterly. “I was born human. It wasn’t until I was resurrected and blessed by Danu that I gained my status as god.”
“How did it happen?” he asked, captivated, leaning one elbow on the table on the map, right over Dragon City District.
I hesitated. Opening this door invited a lot of complicated emotions, even after all this time, but for some reason, I wanted to share my past with this man, this sin-eater who was more than he first appeared.
And so, I told him my story—the whole sad truth of it.