Sin

By Sharron Burnett

Maggie had a life long aversion to touch, which kept her apart from normality. She hid behind a fortress of solemnity that few could bridge. Her sister introduced her to music. A Single voice stood out above all others, a voice so revenant in tone, so pleading, wore through her fibrous being. He alone awoken her. She had to see him.



She was odd, this different little human. He was drawn to her in the most dangerous of ways. He was the moth, she the flame. He wanted and feared her equally. Was she the promised one? Her blood spoke to him, called to him throughout eternity. How could one slight beauty feed the promise of redemption? He had to keep her safe, even from himself,..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645316428

Book preview

Chapter 1

Maggie smiled, dragging her gaze away from the blur of colors racing by outside the passenger window. Her eyes strayed to her left.

Rebekah drove too fast, but she did so with a casual familiarity that was instinctual. She was fearless and tough. Funny, everything she was not.

Put another one in, Rebekah spoke up over the loud roar of the engine.

Maggie dutifully unzipped the cd case, flipping through the pages with an unhurried grace, feeding her selection into the stereo’s cd slot.

You do know you’re obsessed, right? Rebekah said gravely.

A bit, she spoke quietly. Her tone impassive as she looked outside of the vehicle’s side window, a smile of pure pleasure curving her lips.

His voice was unmistakable. His intensity was a tangible thing, and he was, well, beautiful. There really was no other way to describe him.

They were on their way to see him right now in concert. They’d be there in another half hour.

I wonder what his name is.

Rebekah flashed her a sideways glance.

It’s probably something like Maynard or Norton, more mysterious to not have one.

Yeah, she said, closing her eyes as his music washed over her.

How’s the moxie? You holding up? Rebekah’s voice intruded like a bell, jarring her tightly strung nerves

Yes, Maggie spoke softly, moving her ring around a slender finger.

Sure? she said, flashing her a sidelong glance.

Hope so.

Me too.

The journey continued with a companionable silence. They arrived at the stadium with only minutes to spare.

An enormous security guard stood just inside the entrance, directing cars of all size, age and worth.

Last chance to turn back? Rebekah questioned.

Okay, she said tightly as she fished the tickets out of her purse with unsteady hands. She offered one to Rebekah, pocketing the other along with some cash and her id.

I’m proud of you, Rebekah said brightly, a smile transforming her face.

She was cute with her upturned nose and squinty smile.

Our first concert. She sighed. Let’s go before you change your mind.

She jumped out of car, lighting up a much-anticipated cigarette.

It’s this way, she said when Maggie stood beside her.

They joined a long line of people walking slowly toward the arena’s grand entrance. Security was checking each person as they reached the main gate searching them.

Shit, Maggie muttered, slowing.

It’ll be painless, trust me. Rebekah dimpled reaching out to clasp her wrist with a steely grip.

They were next.

Rebekah walked to the security guard, arms outstretched, allowing the invasion with a disinterested grunt.

He turned to Maggie, closed his eyes for a moment then motioned her through with a curt wave.

Maggie’s feet barely touched the ground, bodies surrounded her on all sides, squeezing her until it seemed her next breath might be her last.

Oh my god.

You’ll not find him here. A voice whispered close to her ear. She turned, seeing the shadow of a smile cross the face of a long-haired goth with colorless eyes.

Back off there, buddy. Rebekah cautioned brightly before dragging Maggie through another particularly dense inlet of bodies, slowing only when they were free from the heaviest foot traffic.

Damn, Mage, this place is a gang bang waiting to happen.

What! The whole experience of flesh on flesh touching her flesh was so alien to her, she looked about ready to revolt.

Hello, ladies. A young man slid up between them. His bare chest glistening with the late afternoon heat.

"I’ve got E," he cooed, showing off a perfectly dazzling smile, between his teeth, a round brick colored tablet.

Re-hilly, Rebekah purred, pulling his mouth into her questing lips.

Maggie turned away; her eyes encountering an area where a copious amount of people were engaging in various sexual acts.

Maggie groaned, averting her eyes again. She was becoming increasingly more aware of how out of place she was.

Rebekah cracked him none too gently across the face. Smiled brightly before patting him on the butt.

Off with you now.

She turned her back on him walking toward Maggie as she opened the water bottle, throwing back her head as it reached her lips.

Want one? she offered.

Better not, Maggie mumbled a giggle close to erupting from her throat.

Probably a good thing, Rebekah said absently.

I gotta find a place to squat. Rebekah groaned looking up.

The sun was setting; the sky ablaze with color.

Holy shit that’s purty. She sighed.

It’ll be another half hour before it’s completely dark. Your vampire won’t show himself before then.

The stage was covered with a large screen, old horror movie clips rolled, giving them something to look at.

They were in the grassy area, the stoner section, if her nose was on the right track. Too far away to see him but just knowing that they shared the same space at this time would be good enough, almost.

I wish we could see him, Maggie said, watching the screen intently. They are going to project him on that, right?

Most likely. She danced. Don’t move. I’ll be right back. Rebekah groaned, jetting off in the next instant.

Maggie froze, suddenly alone. She sat down cross legged in the grass, finding a benign interest in the flowering weeds that grew there in abundance. Their long stems were ideal for tying.

She had a long chain of the perfect little flowers by time the sun set over the curtained stage.

Awe man, I didn’t think I was going to make it. Rebekah knelt beside her.

Sweet and just in time.

Maggie smiled, lifting the flowering hair band with a shy smile. She stood up placing it on Rebekah’s head as carefully as if were the queen’s crown.

A hush swept over the crowd as the music began to pound out a familiar rhythm. A delicious pain tightened inside of Maggie’s chest as she watched the screen melt away just as the sun disappeared completely behind the horizon.

The band members were visible only as shadows among a vivid kaleidoscope of colors. The strains of the instruments were pure, secretive as the chaotic beat of the drums illuminated the darkness.

He appeared then; his long black hair hanging well past his shoulders. He was bare to the waist; his body sculpted, starkly white in the dim lighting. She smiled, hearing the roar of the crowd over her own heartbeat.

Dig your grave

cold and deep

burn out your soul

then try to sleep

pray to the dead

for your soul to reap.

He bent over in a crouched position, the maniacal music sending out a harsh intensity.

Your words mean nothing

There’s no need to repent

When this life is over

the legacy’s spent

Come on, Rebekah said, taking hold of Maggie’s hand, pulling her through the straining crowd, closer to the front of the stage.

Breeding jealousy and malcontent

He’s twisted sadistic

Controlling

Simplistic

Maggie saw him clearly now. His nose was large and hooked, hinting at a Native American heritage.

The music changed tempo. The slow hesitant reverberations of the bass guitar sending a wild flutter deep into her suddenly shortened breath.

A soft breeze lifted his hair, turning it a deep purple as the stage lighting dimmed. He was well defined; his hips and pelvic muscles exposed above what could only be a loin cloth.

He stepped out, scanning the sea of faces before him, seeming to stop as they rested on her. She looked away, feeling a rush of heat. The lights dimmed to black. She felt his voice move through her like a current. She began to move her hips in a graceful dance.

You all right? Rebekah grimaced.

You’re not going to—

Maggie grinned. Her eyes dancing with a familiar light. She smiled sweetly, motioning back to the stage before sprinting off into the crowd.

Awe, hell no. Rebekah grasped. Are you fucking kidding me!

She cried, pushing through the masses, calling her name as the distance between them stretched.

Chapter 2

She looked like none who came to worship at his altar. She was as natural as rain; her long dark hair fell in a multitude of silken whorls to a lean and slender waist. She wore loose fitting jeans and a T-shirt several sizes too large.

Her hands were soft, her nails even and trimmed. They were not idle, those hands. She was forever creating, even the blank canvas of her shoes was not left untouched. They had been skillfully penned with delicate paisleys.

He drew back, watching her through a veil of dark lashes.

Wake up, Maggie, he intoned. His voice reaching her through the vast distance of an unnatural sleep.

Her eyes opened slowly, cautiously, looking at him with a widening expression of horror. She wanted to look away but couldn’t.

His eyes were changing, their color darkening, swirling, merging, from blue to green and finally to grey. His stunning gaze traveled from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, his unhurried perusal causing her inexpressible agonies.

He was dressed completely in black, from the spider web of material that shrouded his lean chest, to the indecently low cut of his leather pants.

He sat beside her, close. She was in a bed. His bed? She opened her mouth, yet no words would come. Her eyes darted away.

Oh, she whispered. Her voice rusty.

She seemed to diminish in size. All but her eyes. They stood out, large, and shining. Hello, he said gently.

Hi. She could feel the heat of his stare. I’m Sorry.

For what? he said softly.

I don’t know, she whispered, breathless. Probably something— she said, below her breath.

He caught her hand in his, holding it captive when she would have pulled away. He turned it over, bringing the delicate wrist to his mouth.

Nothing has happened. His hand was cold, his fingers long, nails painted black.

You are safe.

Please… she pulled free, searching wildly for a way to escape this particular moment. She stopped, stunned by the image she saw, hanging just above her head. Her eyes flew to the bottom right hand corner.

Magdalene Paine.

She couldn’t believe it; one of her paintings hung in his house?

It’s actually rather good, he said with a hint of pride. It was your first if I’m not mistaken.

Her eyes were fixed on the likeness of Jesus. It was a disturbing image, not the usual subjugated reflection of his suffering on the cross but an accurate depiction of the violence and torture he’d endured.

He rose with a languid stretch, covering his eyes with the same small black shades that he’d worn during the concert.

We have company, he said, turning his face away from the brilliant radiance enveloping the space right beside him.

A figure appeared, indistinguishable. A shadowy silhouette backlit by a brilliant sphere of