Sins of the Lost Read online

  Praise for the Grigori Legacy novels

  “Extraordinary … Poitevin’s world-building is superb … It has everything I love in a novel—a fascinating mythology, plenty of twists and surprises, a tormented hero on a mission and a courageous heroine … I’m already looking forward to the sequel!”

  —Christina Henry, author of Black Wings

  “Strong storytelling and a pair of intriguing characters make this title a strong draw for urban fantasy readers.”

  —Library Journal

  “A dark urban fantasy novel like you haven’t read before. It is electric, thrilling and extremely intelligent. Linda Poitevin’s world building is rich and layered and her writing is excellent. A fantastic new series which will appeal to urban fantasy, paranormal romance and thriller fans!”

  —Ex Libris

  “Urban Fantasy deeply infused with a richly developed mythology, excellent world building, characters you’ll love, and villains you’ll love to hate.”

  —The Qwillery

  “Dramatic and wrenching.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “[Poitevin] is an engaging new talent.”

  —RT Reviews

  “Those who like a darker Urban Fantasy will eat this up.”

  —Paranormal Haven

  “This is a new series to watch.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “A gritty thriller that will keep you on the edge of the seat and up all night!”

  —Romancing the Dark Side

  “Absolutely engrossing.”

  —Fiction Vixen

  “An epic battle story of good and evil with so many scrumptious twists and turns … Using scintillating character development and fast-paced action, Linda Poitevin has crafted an amazing series in the Grigori Legacy. If you’re a fan of paranormal romance of the supernatural variety, you should definitely read Sins of the Son!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “It’s got sexual tension, angels, Lucifer, and amnesia. What more can a girl want? Oh! A kick ass storyline that keeps on moving even when your eyes try to close and go to sleep. Definite late night read!”

  —Heroes and Heartbreakers

  Also by Linda Poitevin

  Sins of the Angels

  Sins of the Son

  Sins of the Lost

  The Grigori Legacy

  Linda Poitevin

  INTERMIX

  INTERMIX BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  USA • Canada • UK • Ireland • Australia • New Zealand • India • South Africa • China

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  A Penguin Random House Company

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  SINS OF THE LOST

  An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  InterMix eBook edition / October 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by Linda Poitevin.

  Excerpt from Sins of the Angels copyright © 2011 by Linda Poitevin.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

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  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-63526-1

  INTERMIX

  InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group

  and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  Dear Reader,

  When I began writing the first book in the Grigori Legacy series, I had no idea that I was starting a series—or even that I was writing an urban fantasy. Sins of the Angels, you see, was supposed to be a single-title paranormal romance. But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men … and, apparently, of writers.

  As I was writing the first draft of the story, a chance conversation with a friend led me to do a little research, which led to a lot more research and a little more conversation, and so on. Before I knew it, what had begun as a relatively narrow idea had grown and evolved beyond anything I had ever expected. I had taken the rich mythology of angels, built an entire Heaven and Hell around them, and then, in Sins of the Son, brought them into conflict with our already fragile human world.

  Now we find ourselves here, at book 3. Sins of the Lost is by far the darkest of the three novels, and if I’ve done my job as well as I hope, the most heart-wrenching. The war between Heaven and Hell is upon us, and the choices that have to be made—by Alex, by Seth, by Aramael … even by the One—are nothing short of awful. The consequences, equally so.

  And where does that leave you, dear reader? About to embark on one hell of a ride, I hope, so hang on tight … and enjoy!

  Warmly,

  Linda

  P.S. To find out more about the Grigori Legacy series, including some of the mythology used, be sure to visit my website at www.TheGrigoriLegacy.com

  Contents

  Praise

  Also by Linda Poitevin

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dear Reader

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

 
Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Special Excerpt from Sins of the Angels

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “You want me to what?”

  The Archangel Mika’el stared at his Creator. For more than a week he had awaited her summons. He’d been prepared to endure her wrath, her bitterness, her disappointment … but this?

  Nothing could have prepared him for this.

  The One gazed back at him with equanimity. “I want you to convince Seth to take back his powers.”

  Her words made no more sense the second time around.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said, because it wouldn’t do to tell his Creator, “You’re insane.”

  Steel formed in the silver depths of her eyes. He held himself rigid against the desire to look away. He’d earned his place as Heaven’s greatest warrior through strength and counsel, not by folding at the first sign of the One’s displeasure. Straightening his shoulders, he met her glare with his own.

  “Two weeks ago, your son’s instability damn near cost us the mortal realm,” he said. “We have no reason to think he has changed, so why would you give him his powers back?”

  The One sighed. “I’m not giving them back.”

  “You just said—”

  “I said I want you to convince him to take them back.”

  Mika’el’s irritation stilled. As her words sank in, he let his mind sift through to their underlying meaning. To what she wasn’t saying. Understanding glimmered.

  “The earthquake,” he said. “In Vancouver.”

  The One stared out the window, her gaze unfocused. “When Seth chose the mortal woman over his destiny, the energy he discarded put the entire physical world in flux. I’ve been dealing with the consequences ever since. Earthquakes, storms, tsunamis. They’ve been manageable so far, but if we don’t contain what he released soon, it will destroy the planet. Perhaps the entire universe.”

  Mika’el’s blood turned cold. He’d seen the consequences of Seth giving up his power in the first place: buildings reduced to rubble, an already earthquake-prone city made more unstable. If the One was right, they’d removed one threat posed by her son only to have it replaced by this, an entirely new problem. And if her proposed solution was to have Seth take back his powers, it could only be because—

  He whirled to face her. “The energy. You can’t control it.”

  “I can’t so much as touch it.” Bitterness laced the Creator’s voice. “Every time I reach for it, I make it more unstable. Its very nature makes it reject my presence.”

  As much as he’d expected the confirmation, it still stunned him. Still made his universe drop from under his feet. “You’re certain?”

  You’re certain that you—the All-powerful, the Creator, Mother of everything—cannot control this? Cannot contain an energy that is—should be—so much less than your own?

  Raw honesty gazed back at him, piercing deeper than any steel might have done. “The energy is not mine to hold, Mika’el. It was created by my union with Lucifer. It belongs only to the product of that union. I wish it could be otherwise, but—yes, I’m certain.”

  “If he does this, if he takes back his powers, how strong will he be?”

  If something goes wrong, if he chooses not to return to Heaven, can you stop him?

  “I don’t know.”

  Her answer, he knew, encompassed both questions, spoken and unspoken.

  He pivoted on his heel and stalked the width of the room in one direction, then the other. “There must be another way.”

  “We tried your way.”

  The words held no recrimination, only a statement of fact, but they stopped him in his tracks. She was right. He’d created this mess. He’d let himself be ruled again by the arrogance that had separated him from her side all those years before, and in that arrogance, had loosed an unknown, unquantifiable force upon the world when they could least afford it.

  When war between Heaven and Hell already threatened humanity with Armageddon.

  He cleared his throat. “One—”

  The tiny, silver-robed figure by the window held up a hand. “What’s done is done. There is no point in belaboring the issue. I just need you to convince Seth. I’ll hold things together as best I can, but I don’t know how much time I can give you.”

  “He will never listen to me.”

  “No. But he might listen to the woman.”

  The Naphil. Of course. After choosing her over his own destiny, Seth would almost certainly listen to her. Still Mika’el hesitated. He wanted to ask what would happen afterward, if Seth did take back his power. Wanted to know … and already did. The measures he’d taken—the risks—none of it had changed her mind.

  “You know we’re not ready to lose you,” he said gruffly.

  Infinite sadness gazed back at him from silver eyes. “Loss isn’t something you’re ever ready for, my Archangel. It’s something you survive.”

  Chapter 1

  Alexandra Jarvis jolted awake, heart racing, lungs sucking for air. Bathed in sweat, she lay rigid, waiting for reality to replace the nightmare. Again.

  As she had every night since Lucifer had raped her.

  Then, through the horror she’d begun to think she might never come to terms with, came the touch of a man’s gentle hand. She flinched, fighting back a shudder, and made herself relax.

  “Again?” Seth’s deep voice asked quietly.

  She nodded. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see her in the dark; after two weeks, he was as familiar with the nightmare as she was.

  He tugged her close. She let him slide an arm beneath her and curled into him, head resting on his chest. She focused on the steady tha-dump of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his breath. Slowly her fingers uncurled. She matched her own breathing to his. Inhale, exhale, inhale.

  His voice rumbled beneath her ear. “It’s not getting any better, Alex.”

  She tensed anew, but his arm held firm. “I’m doing my best,” she muttered.

  “I know. But I’ve been doing some reading”—his hold tightened against a second attempt to free herself—“and I think maybe you need help with this. I think it might be post–traumatic stress—”

  She succeeded in pulling away, scowling down at him in the dark. “I know what it is, Seth, and you’re right. I probably should talk to someone, but who the hell do you suggest? Being raped by Lucifer himself isn’t something I can discuss with just anyone, for chrissakes. We mortals tend to medicate people who spout off about things like that. Especially people with my history.”

  And you refuse to talk to me about any of it.

  Seth stroked her hair. The faint tension in his hand told her he knew full well the words she’d swallowed back, but once again he avoided the subject. “I know. And I know you’re trying. But you can’t go on like this. We can’t go on like this.”

  Like this. Words too small to contain all that lay behind them: the disappointment; the recriminations never stated but always underlying; the hurt she knew she inflicted whenever he reached for her and Lucifer loom
ed between them yet again. Lucifer in Seth’s form. Lucifer turning her into nothing more than another pawn in the cosmic mockery of a game he played with the One.

  Reassurances gathered in her throat but refused to move farther. She couldn’t make herself say what she didn’t believe to be true, couldn’t promise that everything would be all right. Not anymore. Not knowing what she did of Heaven and Hell and the Nephilim and—

  On the bedside table, her cell phone shrilled. She extricated herself from Seth’s hold and rolled over to grab it.

  “Jarvis.”

  “I need you at a scene.”

  Surprise made her fumble the phone. “Staff?”

  “Does anyone else call you at three a.m. to attend a murder scene?” Staff Inspector Roberts growled.

  Well, yes. Usually dispatch. She kept the observation to herself and reminded him instead, “I’m not cleared for active duty.”