The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,261

her from head to toe until only her blue nose is sticking out. She grumbles, but when I squeeze her she goes silent.

We sit like that for half an hour, silent but for the crackle and pop of the fire.

Eventually Trinity starts wriggling in my arms, muttering about sweating and that she can’t breathe. If the others didn’t peel my arms off her, I wouldn’t have let go.

She keeps her coat on, sitting in my lap and staring at the fire as we wait.

I guess we all changed tonight.

Even Trinity.

Maybe even Zach.

Because instead of me or Zach speaking up, mapping out the next course of action, Trinity clears her throat and says, “We need to get cleaned up.”

We’re on our feet in an instant, Cass and Zach heading for the corpse.

“No. Leave him.” Trinity gets slowly to her feet and I scramble up a second later. She stares up at each of us in turn, and then pushes Apollo and me aside so she can see the dead man in the chair. “Leave the door open, and let the animals have him.”

“That’s not safe—” Zachary begins.

“Someone could identify—” Cass says right over him.

Trinity holds up her hand again. “Pull out his teeth. Cut off his fingers. Take his clothes.” Her honey-gold eyes study us, and the faintest smile touches her full mouth. “God can decide where his bones will rest.”

Chapter Two

Trinity

I was still groggy when the elevator opened into the penthouse suite of the hotel we’d booked for the night. Couldn’t stop myself from falling asleep in the car, especially since Reuben insisted on cradling me in his lap the entire way. They woke me up a few minutes ago and smuggled me through the hotel’s foyer—Cassius keeping the receptionist occupied so no one would see my dirty face.

Zach doesn’t even wait for Reuben to bring me out of the elevator first. He swarms past all of us and heads straight for the master bedroom down the hall.

I flinch when the door slams, and Apollo lets out a nervous laugh. “Think he’s packing his bags?”

“He should,” Cass mutters under his breath as he heads for the open-floor kitchen a few yards away. “It’s a night for celebrating, not sulking.”

I wriggle in Rube’s arms until he reluctantly puts me down. “He’ll come around.”

Cass spins on his heels, eyes narrowed. “I admire your optimism, but sometimes even you have to admit when you’re wrong.”

I’m tired. I’m dirty. And I feel strangely weightless at the same time. It’s surreal thinking we’re done. That it’s all finally over. But it’s as if there hasn’t been a second to feel the joy associated with such a momentous achievement…because Zach is hurting.

Zach is always hurting.

I don’t know what to do anymore. Cass is right—even I’m starting to tire of constantly hoping he’ll change. They say you should never get into a relationship with someone expecting to change them, but I can’t help that I fell in love with him.

All of them.

“I’m going to sleep,” I say, ignoring Cass’s imploring stare. He wants to argue, wants to debate, but I don’t have the energy. And I’m not the only one.

Apollo slumps onto the closest couch and turns on the flat-screen television, one leg dangling over the side of the sofa, the other propped on the armrest. Reuben sighs and washes his hands over his face.

Usually, we’d all be in bed right now…but no one would be sleeping. We used to celebrate every kill with a night of wild abandon, often staying up until the sun painted the horizon pink and orange.

Before I get halfway down the hall, Zach slips out of the bedroom and pulls the door shut behind him. When he looks up and sees me, he stops.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I snap, stalking closer and shoving him out of the way when he tries to block me.

He stumbles, and that catches me so off guard that I pause to glance back at him. But he rights himself an instant later, and then pushes away from the wall with a grimace.

As I close the door behind me, I hear Zach say something that sounds like, “Give me ten,” but all sound cuts off the instant the bedroom is closed off from the rest of the suite.

I lean my head against the wood for a second before dragging myself into the en-suite bathroom.

Why did Zach leave the shower on?

But I don’t bother trying to figure him out—I strip down and climb straight into the gushing