Page 66 of Sins of the Heart

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That drew a startled laugh. “Blimey, you think of the

strangest things. You take souls, steal hearts. Literally.

What do you care about a human skull?”

“I care about respect.” His answer sucked, but it

was all he had.

“Respect,” Alastor echoed, glancing at the skull.

“It might have been someone’s brother.”

The silence stretched until Alastor gave a deceptively lazy shrug and set the skull back on the shelf.

Their eyes met and held, both grief and the unspoken

promise of retribution hanging thickly between them.

“Maybe he killed a supernatural elsewhere,” Dagan

said, shifting the conversation back to Alastor’s

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SINS OF THE HEART

original question. He passed his brother the photograph. Alastor studied it, then shrugged and shook his

head.

“Look again.”

Alastor did, taking his time. “The pendant,” he said

at length, handing the photo back. “You think he killed

one of Aset’s Daughters?”

“I think he killedsomeoneand took a photograph.

Can’t say if it was one of Aset’s Daughters.” Or if it

was a smart-mouthed girl with toffee-cream skin and

sleek, dark ringlets that fell over her shoulders. The

possibility made him feel like he was going to burst out

of his skin.

“What do you know about Aset’s Daughters?”

Alastor’s question hurtled him into the past. He’d asked

her almost the same thing as he’d held her necklace in

his hand, studying the hieroglyphics on the back,

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