Page 42 of Capturing Sin

It wasn’t the first time my uncle had starved me in punishment. One of his favourites, because, in his words, the psychological element would strengthen my resolve. I knew he preferred the physical abuse, but now and then, he liked to spice things up.

Plus, it would be harder to blame my cuts and bruises on demons now that I’d switched divisions. Not that anyone here had particularly taken notice of my injuries in the past, no matter how suspicious they were.

“I’ll still have food,” I whispered, gripping the porcelain for support.

Before I’d moved out of his house, he could take every crumb away if he’d wanted.

Someone tried the handle, making me jump.

“Occupied!” I called out, voice too shrill, but I doubted anyone on the other side would notice.

A low grunt sounded before the person stomped off.

My heart squeezed at the sight in the mirror. My face was bordering on gaunt already, with my pale skin and the sharpness to my cheekbones enough to rival a runway model, but not in an attractive way.

I ran a shaking hand through my mousy hair, smoothing back the wisps that had come loose from my bun. Dark brown eyes looked haunted behind oversize wire-rimmed glasses.

I had my mother’s eyes. Their Asian tilt made me borderline exotic-looking for the small city of Riverside, but my father’s British genes had come through with my chestnut hair and freckles.

I shoved my glasses up and splashed cold water onto my face, trying to erase the evidence of my near breakdown. Any hint of weakness was like a drop of blood in the water to these sharks.

The humans and the demons.

I eased out of the bathroom, heading for my one and only assignment left today. If luck was on my side, today’s compound would be the one, and I could get my “bonus” already. Hopefully it would be enough to buy train passage to eastern Europe and the provisions to live off-grid for a few months.

Or at least keep eating this week.

Already, I was craving food. The thought of creamy pasta loaded with parmesan like a mini cheese mountain was making me salivate.

I shoved down the hunger clawing at my middle, and my constant longing for Italian food, swiping my pass and entering the lab that had become some twisted mixture of pleasure and pain.

As usual, the monster lounged on the floor at the back of his cell, forearms resting on his knees. Pale eyes waited for me, swirling with violent hunger.

“Ah, there she is, the only part of my day that matters.”

Chapter 17

Sin’s words burrowed into me, bringing a strange mix of guilt and loneliness.

It was a sad existence when the only person who cared whether you showed up was the monster you fed.

I quirked a brow, but my voice came out flat, crushed by the heaviness sitting on my chest like a boulder. “What, you want a squeaky toy or something?”

He snorted, rising to his feet with an otherworldly grace. The three spikes topping each shoulder looked even sharper today, stabbing the air with every breath he took. Or maybe that was because everything seemed dire right now.

The demon closed the four steps to the reinforced glass holding him captive, assessing me with his usual intensity. “You’d get jealous if I had another plaything.”

I tried to sneer, but even I could tell it was barely a twitch of my upper lip. “I’m not your plaything.”

His presence was just as overwhelming as when I’d first seen him. Somehow, his powerful frame took up even more space than physics allowed.

He bared his fangs in a vicious imitation of a smile. “And yet when I get free, I’m going to toy with you until I finally grow bored enough to snap your tiny neck.”

“Not when. If.” I shot him a flat look, but anxiety rattled me until it was hard to focus.

He chuckled, the gravelly sound breaking through some of the distracted haze. It shouldn’t affect me, yet he’d dragged me to the edge of bliss too many times, that damned mocking laugh rumbling through the glass as he stopped just short of my salvation.

To say I was in a perpetual bad mood would be an understatement, yet I could almost feel his wry amusement. Despite it all, to my shame, seeing him made me feel alive in a way nothing else did. My days were in shades of grey, and facing off with the monochrome beast was the only thing that brought me colour.

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