Eoul fired. Darius leaped through the Realm with such speed I felt him pass around me in a smooth, nearly indiscernible heat that overcame my body in a wave barely an instant before the Sin reappeared in the bullet's path. It struck him in the ribs with an ugly wet sound.

The shell casing pinged upon the floor as Eoul grunted, looking from the gun in his hand to Darius standing before me. "I'm beginning to see why the hitmen encountered so many problems. You have a firm hand upon your Sin, Gaspard. For such an abysmal receptionist, you are a formidable adversary."

"Your opinion doesn't mean shit to me!" I screamed at the man as I tried to shove Darius out of my way, but the Sin kept himself between me and the loaded gun. I realized I was being foolish and took a breath. "You monster."

"Ha!" Eoul barked as he took another step into the room. Peering past Darius' arm, I spied a second person in Eoul's shadow wearing one of those disgusting robes I had seen the cultists don in the warehouse. Eoul patted his stomach as it shook with mirth. "Says the woman who contracted a demon to kill for—what? Her anger? Revenge? You don't even have a purpose for the destruction you reap and leave behind you."

Eoul fired and struck Darius for a second time. The Sin snarled but did not move.

"And what do you kill for Eoul?" I demanded. "Don't pretend you're the righteous one in this situation!"

Eoul rubbed the fingers of his free hand together in rapid succession, grinning widely. "Why, for money, Ms. Gaspard."

Money. "You killed my sister for money?!" I gripped the back of Darius' jacket and didn't let go, afraid I might lose my mind and attack Eoul—gun or no gun. "That doesn't make any sense! How much did you waste on Mitch just to lure us into your trap!"

Eoul continued to smile, but he didn't respond to my accusations. As egotistic as the man was, he wasn't about to blather cult secrets to one of their victims.

"You're right, girl. That doesn't make sense," Darius echoed as he brought the room's attention onto himself. The rapid patters of his blood hitting the floor dissipated, and the wet splotches on the tile evaporated like water under the summer sun. "Why target Klau Incorporated?"

"Isn't the answer to that simple and obvious?" Eoul slashed his hand in a swift, cutting motion. "It was necessary. Someone needed to bring Jackson and his bitch down to level. They steal anything not yet patented and locked in a box. Every tech firm in Verweald has had innovations snatched by Klau's jaws. We tire of starving at the edges of Klau's table while Jackson grows fat with his ill-gotten gains. They robbed IMOR Advances, lost the Exordium a shit ton of money, and now they will learn not to challenge their betters."

Darius' laugh rose the hairs upon my neck and shattered Eoul's grin. The CEO's breath issued from his lips in a silver plume as the shadows took on the Sin's encroaching chill. Standing directly behind Darius, the heat he created was reminiscent of a tropical monsoon. I removed my hand from his person for fear of being burned.

"How naïve. You are killing for vengeance. You spit upon my host and claim to be the better man, but you're little more than a schoolyard bully who has encountered a larger, meaner bully he cannot beat up. Ah, humans never change, never lose that final, myopic spark. You do you realize what Amoroth is, right? You do realize she's a Sin?"

Judging by the sudden ghastly shade of puce tinting Eoul's face, Darius' revelation was news to him. "Of course!" he blustered, the gun drifting lower as he recovered from his shock. "Naturally!"

Darius' laughter continued to ebb away at the building's heat and paint frost upon the walls.

"Enough!" Eoul snarled as he brandished his weapon. The man—or woman—behind him abruptly chucked a scuffed briefcase to the stretch of floor separating Darius and me from the cultists. Eoul and the robed person took a large step back, though the gun did not waver again. "There you are, demon. There is what you seek. The identity of our members."

Neither Darius nor I moved. He's bluffing, I thought as I caught a glimpse of the case before Darius blocked my sight again. Why on earth would Eoul throw his fellow cultists to the wolves? Why on earth would he even have a briefcase containing all their identities? "This is a trick," I stated, though I believed it hardly needed to be stated. The Sin wasn't stupid. Nor was I.

"No tricks, Gaspard," Eoul quipped as he held his free hand aloft. "I give my word there's nothing within that case but the information you and your bloodthirsty mutt desire." He jostled the pistol in Darius' direction, much to the Sin's displeasure. "He can tell you. That's one caveat of information Envy has actually imparted; the Sins can sense the truth of words, if they're willing to. Well, dog? Am I telling the truth?"

Darius didn't reply but I saw the way his muscles tensed. He abruptly strode forward, leaving me standing alone. "Arrogant, petty human," he sneered as he reached for the briefcase. "There is nothing you possess that could possibly stop me."

What the hell is he doing?!

Eoul's eyes glittered with assumed victory and I choked. "Pride, no—!"

The robed figure stirred. A male arm emerged from the black cloth's folds with red splashed upon the supine palm and fingers. Darius didn't have the chance to touch the briefcase before the man's wrist flicked outward and light streamed upward from the floor. I shouted in surprise as a blue ring rose ghostly and ethereal around the briefcase and the Sin. Blazing circles spun intricate chains around and around the limits of the blue ring until it looked like it was alive. Darius stumbled and gasped.

"Speaking of arrogance—Pride, was it? Ah, yes. Pride. There's irony, there. One of the first fallen, if our research is correct. I am quite impressed, Gaspard, and rest assured: before you breathe your last and I put a bullet through your head, you will tell us how you summoned him."

Darius crumpled to his hands and knees as he let out a strange, keening whine of pain. Another glowing ring joined the first, hovering above it, building an intricate net of transparent chains. I rushed to the construct's edge, desperate to do anything to help—but I yelped as my hands were burnt by a surge of pure electricity.

"I'm being rude," Eoul crooned as he paced the opposing curve of Darius' prison. The Sin's wide eyes landed upon the CEO. Darius clasped his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out a sound I could not hear. "I should introduce my guest. You see, I think you've direly underestimated my order, creature. We understand the danger inherent with your species. We respect it. With that respect comes precaution. We did not summon one of your ill-tempered brethren and not think to protect ourselves."

The cloaked man swept his hood aside to reveal his head and face. In the wintry light of his construct, the mage looked positively ghoulish. His messy black hair stuck to his temples and forehead with a thick layer of sweat, and wide, thick-rimmed glasses covered his eyes and reflected the cold light.

"Blue...Blue-Iron," Darius rasped. The Sin coughed and splattered black, viscous blood upon the floor.

"That's right! All the way from the prison in Itheria." Eoul said, delighted by Darius' recognition. "Oh, we had to pay the Blue-Iron Syndicate quite a bit to keep one of their wardens on retainer. Emerson here was eager to assist, however, when he was informed your ilk may be involved. You see, Emerson was the one who killed the last Sin of Greed a century ago."

Darius snarled and surged toward the circle's perimeter—but a third ring, red in color, joined the two blue rings in their ceaseless revolutions. The rings had risen to mid-torso height, well above the downed Sin's head. When the red ring locked in place, Darius was flattened to the floor and began yelling in agony.

Eoul had another demeaning rejoinder for the Sin of Pride, but I didn't hear what was said. I was stunned by Eoul's previous words. Emerson was the one who killed the last Sin of Greed.

Killed the last Sin of Greed.

Killed.

I couldn't breathe.

Darius was going to die.

BereftWhere stories live. Discover now