with me.
“You need to work on your speed,” Sin says, coming up behind me. “And your technique.” Kneeling, he slides his fingers over mine. “Your dominant hand will have better control, so let your other sense the movement of the tumblers. A lock this size probably has three. No more than four. Which one is loosest?”
I close my eyes, trying to ignore the feel of his body against mine, and probe the tiny lock carefully. “The back one.”
“Good. Now find the next.”
Despite practicing my skills for years, his simple piece of advice has me flying through the lock in under fifteen seconds.
“You learn quickly,” he says, taking what feels like way longer than necessary—but less time than I’d like—removing his hands. Before I can slide the drawer open, he’s halfway across the room, leaning against the wall. “I am afraid I judged you without cause yesterday. When we met. I was angry at the commander and did not want a new partner. Particularly one with no knowledge of our world.”
“I was kind of surprised you could walk with that extra large stick up your ass.” Offering him a small smile, I pull a stack of papers and a cardboard box out of the file cabinet. “Is this your way of saying you want a do-over?”
“It is my way of apologizing. Or telling you I want to. I am sorry for misjudging you, Zoe. I will try not to let it happen again.”
We spend a few minutes rifling through the papers, but they’re just mundane remnants of a young woman’s life. Her birth certificate, social security card, and a few bank statements.
Sin opens the box, and suddenly, it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room. My chest tightens, and panic floods me, chilling me to the core. There’s no logical reason for my reaction. It’s just a dried flower in a small lucite box. But when I finally manage to take a breath and look to Sin, he seems to be as affected as I am.
“Wh-what kind of flower is that?” I ask.
“An orange blossom.” His voice holds a quiet reverence, and he lifts the small memento like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “One of my last memories before Regina found me was of walking through the orange groves of Florence in springtime. The scent...it is—it was—like nothing you have ever imagined, Zoe. I always thought it smelled like...freedom.”
Fifteen
Zoe
When I was partnered with Temple, I always drove. Grunt work, he used to say. To sit passively while Sin drives is…odd. And a little terrifying. He claims his reflexes are better than a human’s, but that doesn’t mean I want him taking curves on two wheels.
“Will you slow down? Please? You’re making me dizzy.” I crack the window, sucking in the fresh, salty air to try to settle my stomach as he weaves through some of San Francisco’s less traveled streets. He hasn’t said a word since we left Jacinda’s apartment. Seeing that orange blossom affected both of us deeply, but he was so trapped in his own memories, I don’t think he noticed my panic.
I’m not about to tell him. I can’t explain it, after all. I have no emotional connection to orange blossoms. They’re pretty. I like orange juice as much as the next person. But that’s all the attachment I feel towards them.
As he’s forced to stop at a red light and I get my bearings, a sinking feeling twists my stomach. “Sin, where are we going?”
“Commander Eve spoke with your former lieutenant. The death of James Temple is now the Bureau’s to investigate.”
Oh, shit.
After I got out of the hospital, I begged Sergeant Perkins for access to Temple’s apartment, but he refused me. Every time. I thought I was ready, but I’m not.
“Zoe. Look at me.” Sin’s voice snaps me back to the present, and I blink hard as I realize we’re parked a block away from Temple’s building. I was mired in my own head for at least five full minutes. “Temple was the first to be taken—that we know of. If we can find out how, where, and when, perhaps we will be able to predict their next move. The human detectives who searched his apartment would not have known what to look for. We may find evidence they missed.”
“I know. I can do this.” Maybe I want to convince myself as much as Sin, because I’m out of the car before he even kills the engine.
Still, I hesitate at