The sounds Sin made while he accosted Cephissus were startling; growling, grunting snarls similar to noises I've heard the Hidden Ones make. So startling that they jolted me out of my shock. I ran to the kitchen and got a butcher knife.
“Sin!” I tossed him the knife.
Sin caught it with a vicious grin and started hacking at Cephissus' neck. Blood sprayed everywhere, covering Sin, my front porch, and a good portion of my entryway. Luckily, I have a hedge of thick bushes growing in front of the steps. The steps themselves are angled alongside the house instead of positioned straight out toward the street. The bushes create a screen that blocks my front door and, in this instance, Cephissus' murder. Still, if one of my neighbors to either side of me decided to pop into their yard and peer over, they'd get an eyeful. Then we'd have HPD to deal with on top of a murdering god. Or a murdered god, rather. There was even a police station right down the street from my house. But no one screamed and no sirens pierced the savage sounds Sin made or the wet thuds of the blade. Finally, Cephissus was in two pieces, one of them being his head.
Sin looked up at me, shoulders heaving. “I'm sorry I took so long. I had to find a weapon.”
“Um. It's okay.” I looked up from the body to Sin. “You blasted him with Lunacy?”
“Yeah, it was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Impressive. Lunacy usually takes a little longer to work for me when I use it against a god.” I blinked. “I mean; when I still had my moon magic.”
“Are you okay, Vervain?” Sin stared at me in concern.
“Am I okay?” I laughed with a note of hysteria. “You're the one holding a butcher knife and covered in blood. Too bad we just missed Halloween.”
Sin grimaced and looked down at the body. “Yeah, we're gonna need to deal with this. Give me a minute.”
He picked up the body and slung it over his shoulder then grabbed Cephissus' head by the hair. Sin winked at me through his bloody mask then disappeared.
I leaned out of my doorway and checked out the crime scene splatter. “Damn, this place looks like a slaughterhouse.”
Sin popped out of the Aether, appearing exactly where he'd been.
“Sweet Tarts!” I shouted. “Don't do that!”
“Sorry.” He chuckled, making himself look even more sinister.
“That was fast.”
“I dumped him in an incinerator; it's all good.”
“You just happened to know where to find an incinerator? Gee, have you done this before?” I grimaced at him.
“No, Vervain, I don't go around killing Gods and popping them into incinerators. Killing other gods is hard for us to do, remember?” He drawled.
“Yeah, I know. You have to be enraged,” I whispered as I stared at him. It finally occurred to me why he'd been grunting and growling like that; Sin had been furious—mad enough to kill another god—all because that god had threatened my life. “Thank you, Sin. You saved my life again.”
He gave me a soft smile and a nod before his expression hardened. “Things have just gotten worse, V.” He waved a hand at Cephissus' newspaper, its angry words glaring at me from a pool of blood. “I'm sorry, but I don't think you should stay here. You heard that guy; he was willing to lay siege to this place, and you're human now; you can't trace. You'd be trapped if someone else came for you.”
“Yeah. I know that too.” I sighed.
“Why don't you pack some things while I clean this up?” He waved at the blood. “And maybe hose myself off.”
I smiled wanly and started to head toward the hallway. “Okay.”
“Vervain,” Sin called after me.
I turned to look back at him.
“You've still got me and Ninka; you're not alone in this.”
I grinned and tried to make it genuine, but it was hard to be optimistic in the face of blood, death, and betrayal.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When I came out of my bedroom with my suitcase, Sin was just finishing rinsing off the porch. He was clean as well; wet but clean. I set my suitcase down by the door and went to the bathroom to grab a bottle of bleach because that's what you do when you clean up a murder, right? Everyone knows that you need to bleach the bloodstains. On the way back, I stopped in the art room. Kirill used to sleep in my art room, and he still kept some clothes there for times when we visited Hawaii. I grabbed a shirt and a pair of jeans for Sin. They might be a little big on him but they were better than soaking wet clothes.
“Here.” I handed Sin the clothes as I stepped outside. “Go ahead and change. I'll wash down the porch.”
“Bleach?” Sin asked skeptically. “Seriously? You think CSI is going to show up?”
“Shut up and get changed,” I huffed then turned away to give him some privacy while I soaked the cement. “If they do show up, they won't find anything.”
“I'm decent.”
I glanced over at Sin and froze. Heat suffused my cheeks.
“Made you look!” Sin grinned and winked at me.
Sin stood with his hands on his hips and chest lifted, dressed only in a wet pair of silk boxer shorts that left very little to the imagination. Deep, golden-brown skin covered his athletic body; not a single tan line in sight. Washboard abs led my eyes down to the soaked silk and as I stared, the long length of flesh revealed by his boxers grew and hardened. Sin cleared his throat and spun around self-consciously.
“Damn, V, I thought I'd tease you a little
