"I leave you for five minutes and you're already having dinner with wolves," Darius complained as he led me from the dining room to the foot of the stairs. His wrapped his hand around the bag's strap and lifted it with ease. "Trying to keep you from danger defines futility. Idiot."

"Hey," I argued. "They weren't dangerous. They were very nice." I paused on the bottom step, frowning as his words sunk in. "Wolves? Plural?" 

Darius stopped as well. His face caught the glow of the gaudy chandelier, casting part of his features into shadow. He twisted his hand as if to say, "Yes," or "It wasn't obvious?" Or perhaps he was only calling me an idiot again. Sometimes it was hard to interpret that gesture.

"You mean—?! They were wolves?! Like werewolves?!" I yelped. 

"Gavin's a barghest, but yes. The concept's the same." The Sin started to climb again. "The other man was not a wolf, but he is...dangerous in his own right." 

Darius's mention of Gavin's name, his reaction to Anzel's presence, and their urgent whispering upon his departure made it obvious the Sin had been to Crow's End before. When? Just before becoming my Sin? That was only a few weeks ago, and their behavior in the dining room was too extreme for Darius to have been gone for such a short amount of time. When had the Sin of Pride last walked this eerie manor?

"If you hadn't taken so long, I wouldn't have been in there," I retorted at the Sin's back. "Where did you go? I understand us not being able to enter the building together, but for someone who can poof in and out of existence at will, you sure took your damn time."

Darius stopped at the top step, exhaling. "I was checking behind us, Sara." 

"Behind us?" 

"I went to Exeter, to Bristol. I had to ascertain he didn't...." Darius hesitated as his hand rose to touch my shoulder. It fell away as I stood next to him, wondering what the demon was thinking. "I checked if Sethan has found our trail yet. He hasn't. It's inevitable, but we've a few hours lead."

"Does it matter if he's found it or not? I thought we were safe here behind that—." I shook my arm in the entrance's general direction. "Ward?"

"We are." The Sin led me across the barren mezzanine to the spiral stairs. Dejected by the idea of more climbing, I resigned myself to my fate and trudged after Darius. "But he might not let us stay."

The dreaded question of where we could go if denied sanctuary floated to the surface of my thoughts, but I swiftly drowned it and said nothing. There was only one answer to that unspoken query: there wasn't any where else to go. Not if we hoped to stay alive. 

We climbed higher in silence. I studied the manor surrounding us, reaching out to brush my fingers over the flocked wallpaper. It was soft red in color and had a faint sheen to it, like new skin convalescing over a recent burn. It was also warm and tacky—just like real flesh. I removed my hand and shuddered.

Short landings offered exits into various dark corridors and small halls. I peeked into each one as we passed, occasionally meeting a reciprocal pair of inquisitive eyes peering at the Sin and me from the shadows of a doorway. I could hear others now, their voices disembodied by the hidden twists and curves within the manor's layout. We met no one on the steps, however. Anyone coming down immediately turned into the next available hall and disappeared.

Darius and I came upon a landing that didn't open into another passage. Instead, there was a single door with a curved top embellished by a carved marble inlay. There was a plaque upon the door with the words "Corvus oculum corvi non eruit," written in blocky, dated letters.

The Sin took hold of the handle. "Brace yourself."

"For what—?"

Darius opened the door and stepped inside. 

If I hadn't seen the outside of the building, I would have said we were standing inside a castle's turret. The walls were curved and comprised of thick, gray blocks, and despite the height and size of the inner keep, there were no windows. The only light came from a series of twisted candelabrums.

There were innumerable shelves lining the outside of the solitary space. Books of every color, shape, age, and size crowded those shelves, adding an aroma of aged paper to the heavier scents of dust and incense. There were cubbies where scrolls and edicts were stored, stacked atop one another in haphazard pyramids. Crumbling slabs chiseled with hieroglyphics were kept in glass displays.

The frames that had cluttered the foyer's walls continued in here. What little space available between the wood shelves was taken by large portraits and Romantic paintings of mythological creatures. One in particular attracted my eye. I had never seen it before, but I had seen a painting of a similar style and composition somewhere else. The man in it—the horned demon with vibrant, liquid eyes—had his head bowed toward the craggy earth. Sparrows roosted upon his horns, and one held a wilted rose in its narrow beak.

There was a large desk situated below a metal balcony, but its throne was vacant. The room's single occupant was perched upon a three-legged stool behind an easel and a prepped canvas. He leaned to the side to watch us as the door swung shut, and the sound of the latch catching echoed in the room.

The shroud of his energy whispering across my skin was so overwhelming I was surprised it wasn't visible. He was the Sin of Sloth.

"Darius," the golden-eyed man said as he rose. "My friend."

He was shorter than the Sin of Pride, perhaps only a few inches taller than me. Of all the Sins I had met, Sloth was the shortest—but what he lacked in height, he had in physical strength. His chest and arms were thick with muscles, and his posture was impeccable. If Pride looked like a renegade and Envy was a debonair socialite, then Sloth was what I imagined a warrior king would appear as. Regal, and yet bodily intimidating.

He was visually older than Darius, hovering somewhere between thirty-five and forty with the barest kiss of silver at his temples. His umber hair was kept short and swept forward from the crown of his head. His keen eyes were golden, shining with soft highlights of orange and amber.

Sloth was smiling as he extended his hand toward Darius. I had not expected him to be friendly.

I was wondering why Darius had said to brace myself—and then I saw the wall.

The shelves behind Sloth were in shadow, so I had neglected to see their contents until my eyes had adjusted to the shift in lighting. Hundreds—thousands—of skulls were placed there. A thousand white, lipless smiles bore down upon us.

I often reiterated in my mind that Darius was a demon, a Sin, but no matter how many times I practiced that mantra, I sometimes forgot he was a creature who killed humans to survive. It was difficult to remember something like that when I saw him stuffing granola bars into his mouth, or sleeping on my sofa, or puzzling over some facet of technology he hadn't mastered yet.

But Darius was a Sin. So was Sloth. I stood in a room with two immortal monsters who had crawled into this earth through cracks in the foundations of the world. They were demons that slipped through realms to reap Terrestria's sweet, vulnerable bounty. Behind them was a grisly collection of careless humans who had gotten too close to a Sin.

Humans like myself.

Sloth's gaze slid past Darius. He stepped by my Sin and, holding his hands behind his back, approached me. "Hello."

His voice was softer than I expected, deep and introspective. Sloth continued to smile and I sensed nothing malignant in that gracious expression. Only mild, polite interest. He was dressed in a casual linen day suit without a tie. His sleeves were rolled back to expose his tanned wrists and forearms. There was flecks of red on his skin. I prayed it was paint.

I swallowed the mad urge to flee. "Hello," I returned, unable to meet his eyes. I averted my gaze beyond Sloth toward Darius, who was paler than usual as he watched the two of us.

"You must be Darius's host." The Sin brought one of his hands forward and extended it with his palm facing upward. "May I?"

I was frightened, though I tried to deny the fear. I was used to Darius's arrogance, or Amoroth's passive aggressive death threats, and wasn't prepared for this creature's well-mannered behavior. Sloth's gentle familiarity was unnerving. Even so, I wasn't a coward and refused to act like one. I laid my hand within his.

"I'm Sara."

"Sara." Sloth's fingers encircled mine. Heat lanced through my arm and seemed to strike at the darkness crouching in the anterior of my thoughts. Dazed, I began to list to one side, but Sloth laid his other hand upon my elbow to steady me. He lifted my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles. "You may call me Peroth."

Simpering, I extracted my hand from his and resisted the urge to recoil.

Peroth stepped back as if sensing my unease. "It's been ages, my friend," he said to Darius, dismissing my presence with a graceful turn upon his heels. He began to pace across the room toward Pride. "Forty years is a long time to wait to hear from you."

The Sin drew level with Darius. They studied one another, their faces kept placid and void of emotion. Sloth's easy smile had been replaced by an impassive frown. A cool draft eased over my shoulders as I remained by the shut door. The muscles in Darius's jaw drew taut with tension.

"I worried," Peroth finally muttered, breaking the silence drawn between us. "I feared you had met the same fate as your brother. If you needed help, you should have come to me."

Darius shrugged, though I sensed new hostility brewing beneath his indifferent mask. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

Peroth observed him for another moment, the skin about his eyes tightening. After a time, the curious look of dread dissolved and Peroth chuckled. "You are indeed."

The Sin of Sloth moved, drifting nearer his cluttered desk. Darius beckoned for me to come closer, though he never took his eyes off the other Sin's back.

There was a sofa facing a television bracketed to the wall behind the desk and its chair. The sofa was covered in a black crushed velvet, and the television was an unexpected incongruity of modern technology. So was the silver laptop left on the desk's top. Overhead, a mobile of blades and daggers swayed in the shifting air currents.

Darius hopped onto the couch's back and crouched there, his arms propped upon his bent knees for balance. He dropped the bag onto the wood floor with a heavy thunk. Sighing, I stood next to him and resisted the childish urge to push him over as we waited for Peroth to speak. The other Sin had rounded his desk and was taking his place behind it.

"So...I doubt you've come for a social call if you've avoided doing so for forty years," Sloth said, the reproach clear in his tone. Darius didn't have the grace to look chagrined.

"No," Pride admitted. "We've come for asylum."

Peroth's gaze wavered and flicked in my direction. "Have you, now?" He slouched in his chair with indifferent motions, crossing one leg over the other as he considered Darius and me. A raven let out a startling caw, and I looked upward to find it skipping on the balcony's railing above Sloth's head.

"Balthazar has been...tenacious of late," Darius seethed as his fingers curled into fists. "I require somewhere to stay. For a while."

"Don't lie to me, Darius. I don't appreciate it." Peroth lifted his arm and the raven fluttered down from its perch, landing on the Sin's given hand. "Rumor tells that you've run afoul of our green-eyed brother yet again, and this time he's out for blood."

"When is he not out for blood?" Darius countered. "Don't accuse me of lying. I am many things, but I am not a liar."

Peroth didn't respond, as his interest was now centered on the bird. He stroked its glossy plumage, lost in thought.

"Peroth!"

The Sin's golden eyes landed on Darius as his hand stilled.

Darius glowered, his teeth bared in a fierce snarl. I shivered as the cold guttered the candles in their candelabrums. "If you mean to turn me out, then do so now. Not later."

Peroth exhaled and continued to stroke the raven as if there wasn't an aggravated Sin perched on his sofa. "I see you haven't changed, Darius. I guess I should be relieved, seeing that people hardly ever change for the better." He flicked his wrist and the candles reignited, heat abruptly returning to the macabre office with brutal force. The raven squawked in protest.

"I do not know if I can offer you both asylum, my friend. You bring unprecedented danger to the manor, and I have more than just my own welfare to safeguard."

Darius dropped from the sofa and straightened to his full height. His hand curled around my upper arm in a loose grip as he turned away from the Sin of Sloth. "Let's go, Sara," he snapped. "We haven't the time to play his stupid games."

Dismay slunk through my veins as I realized we were about to be denied sanctuary. Somehow Peroth knew of our predicament, and he was refusing to become a part of it. We couldn't leave. I wouldn't allow Sloth to push us from his doorstep and forsake us to the endless night waiting for the Sin and me.

"If you won't take both of us, then take Darius," I blurted out before I could convince myself to be quiet. "Let Darius stay. I'll leave."

Darius's grip tightened. "Will you shut up?" he hissed in my ear—but I yanked free of his hand and faced Peroth. My knees were trembling so hard they almost gave out.

"'Corvus oculum corvi non eruit,'" I told the Sin as I batted away Darius's efforts to rein me in. "I know what that means. 'A crow will not peck the eyes out of another crow.' Honor among thieves."

Peroth smirked and rose from his seat.

"Sara—!"

"Stop it!" I snarled at Darius. "If he's going to send me out to die, he might as well do so knowing my thoughts on the matter." I drew in a breath. "Anybody who would put that upon their door and then abandon a friend in need is a coward and a liar."

Peroth was suddenly before me, kneeling on the seat of his couch to put himself at my eye level. The wind of his motion struck my face and rifled through my drying hair. Darius's arm came between Sloth and me, but he did not shove either of us away. There wasn't any point. If Peroth wanted me dead, I would be dead. His little display of speed made that notion perfectly clear.

The demon didn't speak, watching me as a cat watches a bird dance blithely upon a wire. The cat knows if it extends a modicum of effort, it can leap up onto the wire and eat the bird—but the cat just can't decide if the bird is worth that effort. I was under the distinct impression that only Peroth's indulgence and curiosity were keeping me alive.

"I wasn't going to turn either of you away," he said in the same measured, quiet toned. "But your reaction to the implication that I would was quite...interesting."

I felt the Sin of Pride relax as his arm dropped to his side once more. "Don't mock her," he growled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "She'll be insufferable for hours."

I burned with indignation but didn't deem his insult worthy of a response. "Thank you," I told Peroth as I met his gilded gaze. "I'm sorry for being rude."

He nodded, then tipped his head to speak with Darius, dismissing me. Though the Sin's mood had never wavered from patient insouciance, his mind seemed to...drift, casting aside ideas, people, and conversations he was no longer interested in. "What will you give me in return for my hospitality?"

Darius's brow quirked. "You demand payment though you've said you will not turn me away?"

"I can make your stay quite...uncomfortable." The Sin's grin widened. "But I'll keep her. She amuses me."

Pride scoffed, casting his hungry eyes heavenward. "You always had a sick sense of humor."

I couldn't decide if that insult was meant for me, or for Peroth. Perhaps both of us.

"You owe me a favor." Darius lowered his gaze. The small strains of levity that had worked their way into his voice were gone. He and Peroth shared a mutually serious look. "I'm asking you to honor that favor."

Peroth was surprised. Judging by the oddity of the expression, I didn't believe Sloth was surprised often. "You've held that marker above my head for four centuries. You're calling it in now?" He glanced in my direction. His flat, white teeth glimmered in the candlelight. "I find myself...intrigued."

Darius grunted as he bent and lifted the duffel bag. "Whatever."

Peroth pouted. The raven landed on his head and proceeded to peck at his scalp, demanding attention, but the Sin hardly seemed to notice. "I was wrong. You have changed. You've become quite boring."

The hand gesture Pride tossed over his shoulder on his way out the door was not complimentary. I hurried to follow him, sparing the Sin of Sloth a final glance as I stepped over the threshold.

Peroth ruffled the bird's black feathers, chuckling under his breath. A shadow fell across his features in an unsettling wave, like a great beast sliding through the transparent waters of a loch. His eyes glowed in the somber lighting.

"Welcome home, Darius and Sara."