Zoe’s grandmother was one of them?
I pull out my tablet and examine the photo I took from her phone. Even the Almighty makes mistakes on occasion, and this is one of those times. Despite the photo’s time stamp being a solid fifteen years ago, the digital metadata—the underlying code that marks where and when the picture was taken—is mostly missing. And what is there…fuck.
Two years ago. It was taken less than two years ago. When Thorn and Regina were mistakenly freed from Hell.
Zoe—my Zoe—is a celestial being. Of what sort, I have no idea. Why does she not remember? Why give her a human history, human memories, a very human personality, and send her here?
Tablet in hand, I stride for the guest room door, but just before I knock, I hear her crying. Everything inside me aches to comfort her, but her emotions hit me like a tidal wave. She is terrified of me. Of the moment we just shared. Of falling prey to my talents and losing herself.
Pressing my hand to the door, desperate for even a single moment of connection, I whisper, “You have nothing to fear from me. I will walk away before I will ever harm you, even though it will be the hardest thing I will ever do.”
And it is. Each step towards my bedroom feels like I am mired in quicksand, and the pain in my heart deepens with every footfall. But eventually, I close the door. Tomorrow, we will need to find a way to work together to stop Thorn once and for all. But for tonight, I will leave her be.
Zoe
I’ve cried so much, my eyelids are swollen to twice their normal size, and I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep tonight. My head still aches from resisting Sin’s influence—not that I even knew I was doing it at the time—and as I flop down on the bed, all I see are images I don’t understand.
Dark stone. Blood. Flames. And Sin. But not like he is now. Could…could he have left me with some of his memories when he fed from me? That’s not possible. Is it?
It’s still early, and while I”m exhausted, I’m not sleepy. So I pop in an earbud. I need a friend. Need to take my mind off of everything that’s happened in the past forty-eight hours. But as I dial, it strikes me as so odd that I literally only have one person I can call.
“Hey, hon,” Dion says, her voice smooth. There’s music in the background, but it’s quiet, relaxing. Jazz or maybe Blues?
“Hi. Um, shit. I didn’t even think. You’re not working tonight?”
“Nope. I’m only at the club on weekends. I work the streets the rest of the time.” As soon as I start to sputter because I’d never have guessed she was a sex worker, Dion chuckles. “Oh, I wish I could see your face right now, luv. I’m kidding. Kinda. I’m a counselor for at-risk BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ youth in the other community. Which usually involves me walking the streets of the Tenderloin and the Haight all day.”
“Maybe I’ve been on the job too long,” I say. “Before I joined the Bureau, I was with the SFPD. You had me worried all my supposedly ‘finely-honed’ investigative instincts had failed me. Which…after the day I’ve had… I’m starting to worry I shouldn’t be in this line of work.”
“Zoe, every single thing about you screams cop.” The music in the background quiets. “What happened when you went back to the office? If that demon was an ass to you—?”
“No. He actually wasn’t.” With a sigh, I curl my legs up and settle back against the pillows. “This is about me. I’m not…fuck. Dion, there’s something about me that isn’t human.”
I’ve cataloged every single line and whorl of the ornate cornices in Sin’s guest room, and I still can’t sleep. Talking to Dion helped, but it also highlighted just how “different” I am. She has all these amazing, vivid memories of her parents and sister, her first shift, even her high school prom. And me? I can barely remember my mother’s voice. Or getting my driver’s license. All those big life events that should have made an impact on me? That should have shaped who I am? They’re like faded photographs I can only see from a great distance, and that terrifies me.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since lunch. Sin’s been quiet for a few hours, and it’s late enough he’s probably