Page 51 of Sins of the Heart

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Turning his head to the left, he scanned the small,

single-story house across the street. There. The pale

oval of a face framed by a cracked and grime-flaked

front window. From behind a tattered curtain an old

woman watched him, white hair hanging in stringy

threads past her shoulders, her back hunched and

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SINS OF THE HEART

twisted. His gaze met hers, and he looked beyond her

face, beyond age spots and wrinkles and dull eyes. To

her soul.

She jerked back, trembling. With some justification,

he supposed. Part of the reason he had come here was to

kill.

But she wasn’t on the job board. Not tonight. She

was already near the end of her time; no need for him

to hasten her course. Her greatest sin lay at the bottom

of a gin bottle, and so her soul was not for him to

harvest.

Too shiny.

Dear old Dad would choke on it. Sutekh preferred

to dine on those that were obsidian and opaque, stinking of rot and malice. Darksouls.

The wind picked up, dancing an empty cardboard

box down the deserted street. Dagan reached into his

pocket and pulled out a lollipop, removed the wrapper

and folded it once, twice and tucked it away in his

pocket. Then he popped the candy in his mouth.

Cherry. Nice. He and his brothers each had their own

poison. His was lollipops. Alastor liked English toffee.

They could just as easily have downed spoonfuls of

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