Page 61 of Sin

I wanted to touch her so badly. Comfort her and make sure she knew she wasn’t in danger right now. My hand twitched with the effort to keep from doing just that. She’d think I was trying something because all I was to her—or anyone really—was sex.

“Merri—”

“I know you four aren’t telling me everything,” she said, but it wasn’t an accusation so much as a statement of fact. “Tonight was about whatever my aunt’s involved in, wasn’t it? The apocalypse?”

I kept my face as expressionless as I was able, knowing I wasn’t allowed to reveal the more intimate details of the role she played in said apocalypse.

“Sin, please? I need more than what you guys have given me. A fucking angel just tried to kidnap me.”

“Knight.”

“Exactly. Not just a regular demon. A Knight who serves some kind of Prince. This has to do with the end times, and they want me. You said so yourself. But why? As blackmail or revenge or something? A way to get back at my aunt for what she did?”

“Yes.” No one said I couldn’t tell her when she was right about something. And I didn’t technically answer all her questions, I was simply agreeing with the “or something.” She could assume what she liked.

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “Yes to which one? Why are you being so cagey?”

“Look, sweet cheeks, you’re smart. You’ll figure this out on your own, and honestly, the info I have is only gonna be provided to you on a need-to-know basis. For your own good.”

“Yeah, okay. Because you, who have known me for just over a week and have spoken to me on barely more than a surface level, are clearly an expert on what’s good for me.”

The return of her attitude was a relief, and if I’m being honest, a bit of a turn-on. I shifted, using my discarded shirt to hide my semi. I may not be the most self-aware of the horseman, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to appreciate looking over and seeing a tent in my pants when she was giving me what for.

What could I say? I liked a challenge. It was rare to find one in my—for lack of a better word—profession.

“Go on, then. Tell me something that’s not surface-level about you. You think I don’t know what’s good for you? Prove me wrong.”

She crossed her arms under her perfect tits and scowled. If she wasn’t careful, I’d wipe that expression off her face with my fucking mouth.

No.

No, Sinclair. We are digging deeper than surface level. We are getting to know each other. Learning about our vulnerabilities and stuff.

The possibility of getting to know more about the woman in front of me sent a little flutter off in my belly. Completely unused to the sensation, I thought it might be indigestion. A little heartburn after all the stress of the attack. Then I realized I was actually excited.

The realization was so unsettling I immediately told myself it was only because getting to know her better would help me with our mission.

“You first,” she snapped, hitting me with her vibrant blue gaze.

Me?

For as much as I was used to being the center of attention, no one ever asked me about... me. They wanted to know about my rock star persona. Notme.

“Uh . . . well.”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me youdon’twant to talk about yourself?” One perfectly shaped russet brow arched.

“Well, I mean... sure. But there’s so much to say, it’s hard to narrow it down.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’ve lived for—” Not wanting to date myself, I kept it vague. “A long time. You might need to narrow the scope a bit for me. What do you want to know?” I pat the blanket next to me, silently bidding her to sit.

She pursed her lips and sat down next to me on the edge of the bed. “Okay, let’s start with something basic. What was your childhood li—wait. Did you even have a childhood? I can’t imagine horsemen babies or little kids. You guys probably just popped into existence. Boom, hot men here to ruin the world.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“Sin,” she groaned. “If you’re not going to be serious, then I’m not going to waste my time.”

---