Sins of the Innocent - Jamie McGuire Page 0,10

confusing for him. He stood up, bringing me with him, and then dusted himself off, flicking off glass and dirt.

I yanked out of his grip. “I’m not interested in starting a war.”

“Cambion,” he said. “That’s an awfully offensive term. Why so angry?” he asked, picking dirt off the tip of his tongue.

I’d half-expected it to be forked, but it wasn’t.

“You’re breaking the rules,” I warned. “The Cimmerians could show up at any moment.”

“They won’t,” he said, sure.

Bex took a step, seeming uneasy. “Eden, we should go.”

I tried not to show my surprise at Levi’s audacity. Even though he was the Prince of Hell, disturbing the Balance came with a death sentence that I would be well within my station to carry out—without inciting a war … unless that was the plan.

“What’s he going to do?” Levi asked. “Send me to Hell?”

“He could kill you,” I said quietly.

“Huh,” he said, backing away. “I thought that was your job.”

In a blink, all trace of him was gone.

I looked to Bex. “What the hell was that?”

He sighed, gesturing for me to walk with him to the car. “I don’t know, but he’ll be back.”

Bex drove me home, probably best since I was so preoccupied with thoughts of Levi. I barely noticed when the Audi came to a stop in the drive.

Knowing that Levi would be back didn’t worry me. In fact, it made me a bit giddy, and that thought made me angry. So, I did what any teenage girl would do. I took it out on my family. “You just … you just stood there and watched him toss me around?” I asked, scratching my hair like a dog before shaking out some of the filth and grime.

“You let him,” he said, shameless accusation in his voice.

He opened the door and stood on the lawn, and I did the same.

I pointed at him. “I’m your responsibility. If I’m attacked, you protect me. That’s the deal.”

“You weren’t attacked. He was toying with you.”

“Why?”

Bex shrugged, his patience wearing thin. “I don’t know, Eden. I just work here.”

“You know. What aren’t you telling me?”

Bex didn’t respond.

Their secrets felt like a knife in my back, and Bex’s silence was the hand twisting it.

“You’re supposed to be my best friend. Do you really think keeping anything from me will help? Let me rephrase that. Do you really think keeping me in the dark will solve anything? How does it improve the cause exactly?”

Bex’s expression softened. “C’mon, Eden. Don’t make me feel worse than I already do. I’m just trying to respect my brother’s wishes.”

“So, it’s Dad, not Mom.”

He straightened. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did.”

I spun around, rushing toward the house as if someone were chasing me. Dad was already standing by the door when I slammed it behind me.

I glared at him but didn’t speak.

“Eden …” he began.

“Don’t. If you can’t trust me, then I’d rather we just not speak.”

Mom hurried into the foyer just as I reached the stairs. “Eden, what on earth?” she screeched, noticing that I was covered in dirt.

“I’m sure Dad will tell you in three hours,” I snarled at my dad, “after explaining everything in excruciating detail.”

Bex spit out a laugh, but Dad didn’t find it quite as funny.

Dad frowned. “Why did you allow that, Eden? Have you lost your mind? What if he wasn’t just testing you?”

“I don’t know. I just had a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt me and that I shouldn’t hurt him. I can’t explain it,” I said.

“Allow what?” Mom asked. “Who did this to you?” she asked me.

“Leviathan,” Bex said. “He’s been watching her for a while. Don’t worry, Nina. We had it handled.”

Dad shot Bex a death glare, and he winced.

“Who is we?” Mom asked, her voice echoing across the marble floors and down the hallways.

Our house had tall ceilings and numerous vast rooms. The wood was imported Italian, the craftsmanship unequaled in the state of Rhode Island, much less the city. It’d been constructed by my grandfather to be strong, to protect my mother who was meant to be the last Merovingian, the descendants of Jesus Christ. She was supposed to be the last … until me.

That fortress was my second home, the first a loft my father had built. But my family had needed to work together to raise me for whatever lay ahead, and that required more room than the loft had offered. Jack Grey’s was the only house I remembered, but it had never felt like home. I wondered if anywhere