My jaw went slack and my eyes watered. Was it true? Was I enough without the magic?
“I'm here, Vervain!” Sin growled as he grabbed me by the upper arms and shook me. “I'm here with you. I haven't been affected by the Tablet. I know who you are, and I think you're incredible. You're human and magic-less, and I don't care one whit because that doesn't change who you are. That's why I'm here!”
Sin pulled me against his chest and kissed me. I was so shocked, that I let him. I crumpled against him and took comfort in his strength and conviction. He still wanted me. As I was. Beaten and broken and looking like a hot mess. This god still wanted me without any magic. It was wrong to kiss him back, but I didn't care. I needed one little piece of validation. I wrapped my arms around Sin and used him to help me feel something. I drank deeply of his love and basked in his admiration.
Sin's hands roamed my back as he growled into our kiss. His tongue, hot and eager, lashed against mine as if it had been waiting impatiently for this moment. His breath blew hot against my cheeks as he pulled me onto his lap. A thick shaft pressed between my thighs and things started to clench low in my body. I started feeling a little too much. More than I could handle. When Sin pulled me down on his erection, pressing against me through Kirill's jeans, I finally found some sanity.
I jerked away, panting. “I'm so sorry. I can't, Sin.”
“It's okay,” Sin whispered and smoothed my hair back from my face. “I'm here, Vervain, and I'm not going anywhere. Take as long as you need.”
I stared into his stunning silver eyes; so earnest and full of adoration. My heart was beating fast enough to feel in my throat. I could barely speak, but I had to say something. I had to put some distance between us again. Come on, Vervain, you've always had a witty comeback. This was the perfect time for one.
“Well, this is your place so, of course, you're not going anywhere,” I murmured as I climbed off his lap. “I'd be the one to leave.”
Sin snorted as he laughed. “See? This is what I mean. Losing your magic doesn't change who you are.”
“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But it does make me have to pee more often.” I scrunched up my face at him. “I had no idea how superior a goddess bladder is.”
Sin's laughter followed me to the bathroom.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sin put my suitcase in the guest room I'd been using and told me that I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted to. Behind his wards, I was safe, and I could relax while we tried to come up with a plan. Sin stayed in seclusion with me, only leaving for provisions that couldn't be delivered; like booze. I'd taken to day-drinking. And night-drinking. And twilight drinking. I drank a lot. Not so much that I became a sloppy drunk, but enough to keep the edge off. To hold the pain at bay and stop me from falling into shrieking bouts of hysteria. I hated myself a little for it. I should have stayed sharp. Instead, I convinced myself that I'd be able to think better if I wasn't in so much blinding agony.
But even with that alcohol cocoon, the heartache would still seep in and catch me unawares. Give me a nice punch in the gut and leave me gasping. I'd spend excruciating minutes trying to breathe through it and stop my mind from swirling down the drain into that deep cesspool of dark thoughts. Down there lay insanity, and I refused to let Marduk break me.
Marduk; when I mentally made my drain dives, I often wondered if he were merely the hand of karma. I had taken magic from gods. Yes, they'd taken it first, but they were given it willingly, weren't they? Humans sacrificed to them, and the Gods grew more powerful. Then I show up and stole their magic along with their lives. Then there was Marduk himself. I had done some evil things to his pantheon when I was dark and when I fought him recently, I had cast heartache on him. Now, here I was, heartbroken. Oh, the bitter pill of perspective; it just loves to stick your throat and choke you.
So, I'd drink more to wash it down.
I sank into a routine. Every day Sin and I would bounce ideas off each other in the morning and then spend the rest of our time drinking, watching TV, drinking, playing card games, drinking, and eating take-out, or delivery, rather. Sin wasn't much of a chef, and I was never in the mood to cook. It was growing monotonous but, in the way of all routines, it also began to be comfortable. Sin and I slid into an intense friendship born of our shared past, forced intimacy, my trauma, and our goal of recovering all I'd lost. I was growing dependent on him and I knew it, but there was nothing I could do to stop myself. Sin was all I had left, and he was making my cataclysm bearable.
Except at night. Alone in bed, the demons I'd been hiding from all day would find me. When I managed to get to sleep, they'd slip into my dreams and torment me there. I'd see my children standing in the distance, calling to me with tears streaming down their reddened cheeks, but between us would be their furious fathers and uncles; an insurmountable wall. All of my lovers persecuted me in my dreams, calling me horrible names and accusing me of
