Storm of Sin - Patricia D. Eddy Page 0,37
a glance over my shoulder, and her green eyes are wide, awe bringing a beauty to her features I never want her to lose. But she will, any moment now. Returning my gaze to the window, I run a hand through my hair, the memory of how I wore it back then—long enough to brush my shoulders—so at odds with the more modern cut I favor now. “There was much unrest in Florence then, but still, the people celebrated every chance they could. A crowd of drunken Italians provided ample opportunity to feed, and I was ravenous. I know I glamoured two women that evening, but left them both with their virtues intact, and happy memories of dancing in the streets with their friends.”
“You can do that? Change someone’s memories?” The stool rattles, but I do not turn to her.
“Yes.”
For several moments, neither of us speak. This is a mistake, but now that I have started, I cannot stop. “I was…drunk. On sexual energy and wine, and I cut through an alley on the way to my rooms. This is where my memories fade. But I remember Regina. Her voice. Her words. ‘You are a strong one, incubus. Come closer.’” Shaking my head, I brace my hands on the window sill. “I knew I should not listen, but her voice was like a siren’s song, pulling me closer, like a drug. So I went. She kissed me, and then my mind…it is like a thick fog obscured everything. I have vague memories of walking, of falling, of pain. When the haze lifted, I was underground in a cage so small, I could not stand.”
Zoe inhales sharply, and I continue. “They left me there for so long, I was out of my mind with hunger and thirst. No food or water. No energy I could sense anywhere around me to restore my strength. When Thorn—mio maestro, he ordered me to call him—entered the room, I tried to glamour him, but his mind is stronger than any other demon—any other creature—in all the known realms. And I...was too weak to move.”
I am no longer in San Francisco. My body and mind are trapped in Italy. Locked underground and at his mercy. “‘You will be my greatest weapon,’ he said as he dragged me out of the cage. ‘Your mind and body belong to me, and you will obey.’”
With a shudder, I bow my head, as I did back then.
“I tried to protest, but he called for two others. Men he had trapped and already broken. They chained me to a wall. Naked. My arms and legs spread wide. Once he started whipping me, the memories are so fragmented…” The scarred flesh of my arm throbs, and I dig my fingers into the old injury, needing the pain to keep me focused. “I know he used me to lure dozens of women. Regina brought in most of them, but the few who resisted her? All mages, for some of them had warded themselves against all other magical energy. They were no match for me. He would starve me before he allowed me out of the cage or the chains he kept me in, then force himself into my thoughts for hours until I was nothing but his puppet.”
“And after? After you…helped him capture his victims?” Zoe asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“I was the one who chained them so he could brand them. Who transported them to whatever location Thorn had chosen to allow others to come and torment his victims. I cleaned up their dead bodies when their minds broke entirely. And I am the one who failed to help so many who begged me to kill them.”
I slam my hand against the sill, cracking the wood, then whirl around. “Are you satisfied now, Zoe? Because I could go on about the parts I remember. How they screamed while being branded. How they sobbed as Thorn invaded their thoughts. Do you want to know how it felt? Because I can tell you that as well.”
Zoe strides over to me, shoulders thrown back, but her breath stutters in her chest. I expect anger. Horror. Disgust.
Instead, she wraps her arms around me. She’s shaking, and I know I am the cause, but still, she offers comfort? All I want to do is lose myself in her embrace, but I do not deserve this, and I pull away. “What was that?” I ask.
“My way of reminding you that you don’t have to solve this case