1873

"Will your father be upset that I've entered your home?" I followed Priscilla through the doorway of her small house. The inside was incredibly cozy, with one large room connecting to a smaller one. I peered inside to see a single bed and blankets.

"Oh, I believe he's already gone." Priscilla hurried over to that room and looked at the bed. "Yes, he's already gone."

My brows raised. "That is where your father sleeps?" I asked. When she nodded, I frowned. "What about you? Is there another room?"

With a small smile, she shook her head. "Oh, no. I sleep here." She pointed to the blankets on the floor with a single pillow. My brow furrowed, especially when she laughed as if it were nothing. "This home is only temporary. My father travels to sell his goods. We will only be here for a month. Maybe less."

As she walked past me to fill the kettle over the fire, I felt the uncontrollable need to protect and save her. I hadn't forgotten my mission. Her death was inevitable—or so I was told. What if I moved to preserve her soul instead? There needed to be a balance between good and evil. What if she was it?

"The tea won't take long," she said as she stoked the fire.

"I appreciate the gesture," I said, licking my lip as she waved her hands through the smoke. She wasn't afraid of the heat. Her face, so close to the flames, glowed in the light. And it enticed me.

I approached her from behind, slow, measured steps to not startle her.

"If you need a place to rest tonight, you're welcome to stay."

I stopped. "I'm sorry?"

Priscilla stood and turned, smiling at me. She pressed her curls behind her ears as she glowed. She was timid, blushing; I couldn't read her thoughts or emotions. Were pure souls resistant to our powers as well as our sins? Did she think of me as an ordinary man?

I was Envy. I drew jealousy out of people. Jealousy that would destroy friendships and burn families. I was the gateway to all sins. It was refreshing that she couldn't see or feel it.

Standing in front of her, I felt anew.

"Why would you wish for me to stay?" I asked. "You don't know who I am."

"I do not." She straightened and gulped. "You do not know me yet stopped to see if I was in trouble."

My eyes widened. I hadn't stopped to help her. I planned to kill her. But I broke the one rule Gluttony gave me and looked into her eyes. I saw nothing but light and was compelled to help her, be near her, and follow the sound of her voice.

Still, I could endanger her any more than I was already. "Priscilla, I will happily drink the tea, but I shouldn't stay."

She frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. She glanced back at the kettle before looking back at me. Her luscious bottom lip glistened as it pushed out with a sigh, swollen from sitting between her teeth.

Blood rushed through my veins, down to my legs. My pants tightened around my crotch. What was happening?

"What if I asked you to stay?" she whispered.

I gulped. If I stayed, I needed to kill her. If I left, I could get answers and see if she could survive.

"My father leaves for nights on end after making a sale, and he'll leave me here until either we leave or he needs help with Duloc and the wagon." She looked down at her nails before lifting her gaze back to mine. "If you had it in your heart to help me with Duloc—"

I don't have a heart, Priscilla.

"—Then I ask if you can protect me tonight."

My brows pinched together. "Protect you from what, Priscilla?"

She gulped, and I could see the nervousness and fear travel down her throat. "There are men from town... and I am not that type of person."

***

Ripped pieces of white fabric covered my ribs and chest, folding and wrapping over my muscles like a skin-tight shirt. Priscilla tried to stop the bleeding, but it continued to seep through. The blotches of red turned my injuries into artwork, much like the portraits in her gallery.

I held one in my hands as I hid away from the windows in the back. The streaks of green and dark blue pulled me in. It reminded me of myself, my colors within the Seven. I stared at the paint until I heard a gentle knock. Turning around, I saw Priscilla leaning against the wall. She'd taken off her top, leaving just a tank on instead. Her jeans had red stains, and I frowned because of it.

"I'm sorry." I put the portrait back in its place on the floor. "Blood... that isn't easy to clean."

Priscilla shrugged, a smile on her face. "I'll toss it. Or," she lifted her leg to better look at the stain, "I can throw paint on it and make it art."

My brows lifted. "That's... different. It's..." I pointed at her jeans. "That's blood. You do know that, right?"

"I see the art in everything." She blinked at me in all seriousness. I cringed and gulped. I was a demon, a Sin; my spirit was born in blood. But to wear it? That was different. Was it normal? Who knew? I could be as far detached from the mortals as I was from my demon brothers.

Suddenly, she snorted and came toward me. "I'm joking," she said, touching my shoulder. "I'm tossing these as soon as I get home."

A sigh of relief came over me. Not that I would've thought she was any less pure of a soul for wanting to wear someone's blood on her clothes, but she would've been closer to a demon if that was the case.

"Speaking of home," her thumb rubbed my shoulders, "I need to close up shop and head out."

My brows shot up. If she traveled by herself and they grabbed her because I wasn't by her side, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. I couldn't abandon her like I did John; he could defend himself against Sins. But Priscilla? A normal mortal?

"But you?" She lifted her brows. "Do you have somewhere to go? I know you didn't answer me earlier, and I can't just leave you alone out there, especially not after this." She noted my chest. "So, please tell me I won't have to worry about you."

"I um," I passed my hand along the side of my neck, "I'll be okay," I lied but focused on her eyes. I needed her to see that I was worried about her, a little more than her worry over me. Sure, seeing someone with an X carved into their chest was terrifying, but I'd rather that be the most she'd see tonight; if the rest of the Seven came to claim her soul, she'd die of fright.

"But I'm a little worried about you," I said.

"Me?" Her brows shot up. "Why me?"

"I came straight here," I said, being honest without the details. "I shouldn't have. Someone could've seen me, followed me—"

"So someone is following you?" She blinked.

I raised both hands. "I said I hoped not. But I can't risk it, ya know?"

I chewed the insides of my cheeks. I couldn't say anything else. Speaking it out loud—that would be putting her more in danger than she already was. If there was one mistake I wanted to fix, it was... failing her. My Priscilla had seen me as her hero in the night, her protector through the darkness when I was her murderer and the cause of her death.

This Priscilla was strong-willed, just as friendly; she had the brightest soul I'd ever seen.

Were reincarnated souls stronger than they were in the past?

"Okay, I get it, and I appreciate it." She nodded, tucking her curls behind her ears. "I got one even better for you, hm?" She smiled. "Since you're worried about me, how about you walk back to my place? Be my guardian angel."

She'd said it, not me. But I had to accept it. If I was with her, then I could protect her. Not as an angel, but close enough.

"And if you don't have a place, you can stay with me," she said. "Or, if you don't feel right doing that, which I get," she sucked her teeth, "I can call the guy I know."

Again with this guy. She'd told Megan about him earlier. A guy she knew for situations like mine. Did I need to endanger someone else? "I don't..." I bit my lip, averting my gaze. "I'll walk with you, make sure you're all right, then... I'll figure it out."

Good. Stay away. Don't drag her with you. You've done that before, and it didn't end well.

"Um, yeah, no." Priscilla lightly tapped my shoulder before reaching for my hand. Her fingers linked with mine. Did I stop her? No. I grabbed hold, shuddering at the sparks of warmth pushing through my skin. And as she led me through the gallery toward the front door, I followed her. She glanced at me, reaching for her purse hanging by the door. "Either stay with me, or I'll call Gabriel. The choice is yours."

I looked into her eyes, trying to read her thoughts. There was nothing but light; a thick wall I couldn't penetrate. "I'll walk with you and see if you have space," I said. "How's that?"

"Ha!" Pulling the keys out of her bag, she pushed the door open. "I accept the compromise."