Sins of the Soul

He could feel her watching him. Judging him.

He felt as though he were on trial, or subject to some sort of test.

“Do you wish refreshment?” she asked gently.

He stared at the platter, his stomach roiling. His instinct was to swipe his arm across the tabletop, to send the entire platter smashing against the stone of the cave wall.

Mastering his emotions, he tightened the reins of his control. He was to spend an eternity here. Best not to set off on that tone.

Besides, who had he to be angry with but himself?

“No, thank you,” he managed, his throat tight, the words clipped. “But please, go ahead.”

Her laughter was like rain, like a dance, like the wind.

“I cannot eat this, Alastor Krayl. I can eat only the food of the dead.”

He stared at her uncomprehending. Then a tiny seed sprouted. “Explain.” He barely managed to get the word out.

“Ah. You are back to giving orders.” But she sounded more amused than angry. “This is Topworld food, brought here by the Shikome for a specific purpose.”

“The specific purpose being me. Testing me.”

“Yes. Did you not listen to my story, soul reaper? Did you not hear what I said about Naphré’s father? About Naphré herself?”

He thought back, ran her words through his mind. “She’s your granddaughter.”

Izanami gave a small nod. “Many generations removed, but my granddaughter still.” She paused, and turned her head to the side. “You would have saved us both time and distress had you greeted the Shikome in the alley and come when she bid. As it is, someone sent you to Jigoku in an effort to keep you from me. Or perhaps, an effort to keep you from some great truth. It was not me that did so. And I can tell you that Naphré’s mother did not know her destination, so could not betray it to Aset. More than that, I do not know. I leave that to you to discover.”

“You’re sending me back.”

“Carry my greetings to Malthus Krayl. Tell him his choice of flower was appreciated.”

Before Alastor could ask, she summoned a portal, the chill reaching through the hole to seep right through to his bones. He thought the temperature absolutely lovely.

“Thank you,” he said, pausing before it. Then he turned to look at her over his shoulder. “My father’s claim—”

“Is null and void. I had prior claim to Naphré Kurata’s soul, which nullifies anything he might say is due him. But more than that, Aset never revoked her claim, regardless of what Naphré did. Now that she has taken first blood, Aset has even greater claim.

“And finally, Alastor Krayl, I have gifted Sutekh with the return of his son. You. Let him try and insist on my granddaughter’s debt. He will deal with me, and while your father is immensely powerful…well, let us say that I would provide him with a challenge.

“But to ensure no questions, no arguments, I give Naphré’s soul into the keeping of the one who truly values it. The one who has earned her heart. You, Alastor Krayl, are now the sole claimant to the sins of her soul.

“Go, now.”

He went.





NAPHRé SLAMMED HARD AGAINST the ground, panting as she tried to get the pain under control. Pain in her shoulder and hip where she hit when she rolled through the portal, pain in her gut from the topsy-turvy ride, but worse, the pain in her heart.

He was gone. Alastor was gone. He’d sacrificed everything for her, picking her over duty. Choosing her over his obligation as a soul reaper, his duty to his father, his brothers. He’d sacrificed Butcher’s darksoul. He’d sacrificed his life. He’d chosen her above all.

And it hurt. It hurt so bad she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Rolling to her side, she tucked her limbs tight and wrapped her arms around herself. Vaguely, she realized that the portal had dropped her on her living room floor.

She needed to think. She needed to reach past the pain and loss and think. Plan.

She rolled onto her back, her chest so tight she felt like a vise was crushing it.

There had to be a way. There had to be a way to get him back. She could find Roxy Tam. Talk to Dagan. He could help her get to Sutekh. She’d go to Aset. She’d—

The breath whooshed out of her as something hard and heavy landed on her. She struggled, pushed. Instinctively, she reached for her knife.

“I wouldn’t bother.” Clipped consonants. “With the weapon, I mean. You’ll find it of little use.”

She stilled.

Time stopped.

“How—” She stared up into incredible blue eyes that were inches from hers. He lay full atop her, his breath warm on her cheek. And suddenly the how didn’t matter. The why didn’t matter. There was only this moment, and if she’d learned anything, it was to make certain that she didn’t let the moment pass.

“I’m in love with you, Alastor. I love you.” Hot tears streaked from the corners of her eyes. “I love you. I thought I’d lost you, that I’d never get the chance to tell you. I love you.”

“Do you?”