Sins of Eden by SM Reine

Author:SM Reine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Iris Books

Elise felt the instant that McIntyre’s life ended. His heart stopped beating just as suddenly as Neuma’s had, ending the sweet flow of blood, silencing the healthy patterns of his brain. One minute, he was a normal mortal—alive and hale and full of thoughts—and then he was suddenly a blank spot in her senses.

Lucas McIntyre was dead, and she was vomiting bullets on the street less than a block away.

They surged from her stomach, slippery and black, as though her body was rejecting a diseased liver. Elise felt hot. Her muscles shook as they spilled out of her.

She’d only been able to toss McIntyre her sword before the sickness overtook her. And it felt like he’d emptied the entire magazine of one of guns into her back, so it was emptying from her system too slowly. She was helpless to react until the last of the bullets emerged, splattering in a sac of liquid on the broken street.

Worst fucking timing.

Now the military was drawing closer, their headlights spilling over the street, inching toward her as they approached. They’d heard the fight. They were coming to investigate far too late.

Elise wiped her mouth as she got up, and as soon as she was certain that she was done throwing up, she phased away from the headlights and back into the relative safety of the train shelter. So close, and yet distant enough that she hadn’t been able to help them when she heard the screams.

She reappeared on the edge of the platform and shielded her eyes from the sparking of electricity. McIntyre had cut the wire as she’d suggested—good for slowing Clotho down, but dangerous for Elise to approach.

There was no reason for her to risk getting near the cable now.

It was already too late for the McIntyres.

Two of the bodies were under the bench where Elise had left Leticia behind to fight Clotho, but it was difficult to tell that the woman was, in fact, Leticia McIntyre. There was too much blood. Elise didn’t bother looking closely enough to verify. There were only so many pink-haired women who had been carrying their toddlers through France.

She couldn’t look at Deb at all.

Elise had hated the way those children shrieked, hated how they pulled at her hair while trying to braid it, hated the constant cacophony. She hated kids. She hated that child in particular. Elise was shaking and her eyes were burning and she couldn’t seem to get control of herself.

She had told Nathaniel herself that everyone got one life and that it was better that way. Maybe it was true with Neuma. She’d been in her eighties, maybe her nineties; she’d had a good, long life. Even Leticia was in her thirties. But Deb…

It was too much.

So she turned to the train trench instead. Lucas McIntyre wasn’t recognizable, either. He was a charred mess of flesh that smelled like burned hair and fat. His victory rested inches away from him: a puddle of ichor that had been Clotho. Elise hadn’t

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