Page 62 of Sins of the Heart

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SINS OF THE HEART

His brother arched a brow.

Dagan replaced the baking soda, let the door swing

shut and then checked the freezer; it held its own

unique surprises—a neatly stacked array of plasticwrapped severed hands.

A body cut into bits, some parts stored here and the

rest left…where? These humans had been butchered,

just like Lokan. But that’s where the similarity ended.

Finding and reassembling all the body bits of a dead

human wouldn’t change the outcome. They’d still be

dead.

Finding Lokan’s parts, though, was a whole different story. Because Lokan hadn’t been human. He was

a soul reaper, the youngest son of Sutekh, and he could

be brought back. He could live and breathe again if

Dagan and his brothers could find him in time, before

he ate the food of the dead and severed his connection

to the world of the living.

Problem was, Dagan had no clue where Lokan’s

parts were, and without them, his brother’s life force,

his Ka, was confined to an unknown limbo. He didn’t

walk the mortal realm and he wasn’t in the Underworld. He was somewhere else. Somewhere none of

them could travel, his spirit locked away from them by

an unseen barrier. They couldn’t sense him. Their

psychic link failed them.

So far, every effort Dagan and his two remaining

brothers had made to find Lokan’s body had been met

with failure. Fucking failure.

And thinking about it brought out unfamiliar, unwelcome emotions, not the least of which was guilt.

Dagan was the oldest. The strongest. He should have

been there. Should have protected him.

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