Sins of the Son: The Grigori Legacy Read online

  PRAISE FOR

  SINS OF THE ANGELS

  “[An] extraordinary debut. 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 Howl

  “Strong storytelling and a pair of intriguing characters make this title a strong draw for urban fantasy readers and heralds a new voice in the genre.”

  —Library Journal

  “Poitevin’s debut fantasy full of angels and threats of the apocalypse starts with a nice brisk pace that is maintained throughout. This is a new series to watch.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “I found myself so engrossed in the story that I didn’t want to put it down because I just had to know how it would all turn out. I can’t wait to read the next installment to see what is in store for Alex, Aramael, and Seth.”

  —Nocturne Romance Reads

  “Sins of the Angels is an enthralling start to a new series, and I will be anxious to see where Ms. Poitevin goes from here. This is definitely a series that you must read!”

  —Bitten by Books

  “Sins of the Angels shook me, spun me, flipped me, and then ground to a halt, leaving me breathless and reeling. What a ride!”

  —Rabid Reads

  “The urban fantasy world just gained a highly promising new member with Poitevin’s debut release…a taut thriller that also works as the springboard for future adventures.”

  —RT Book Reviews (4 stars)

  Ace Books by Linda Poitevin

  SINS OF THE ANGELS

  SINS OF THE SON

  SINS OF THE

  SON

  THE GRIGORI LEGACY

  LINDA POITEVIN

  ACE BOOKS, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

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

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL,

  England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin

  Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community

  Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive,

  Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books

  (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  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. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  SINS OF THE SON

  An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Ace mass-market edition / April 2012

  Copyright © 2012 by Linda Poitevin.

  Cover art by Mike Heath.

  Cover design by Annette Fiore.

  Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.

  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,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-56121-8

  ACE

  Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  For my husband, Pat,

  who believed in me before I believed in myself

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Most people think of writing as a solitary endeavor, but the truth is, it’s kind of like raising a child…It truly takes a village. While a story certainly begins with me, turning it into a book that I can put into the hands of you, the reader, is very much a group effort. Here, then, are some of the inhabitants of my village who deserve special mention:

  My husband, who acts as my sounding board, my police procedural encyclopedia, and my head cheerleader—and who uncomplainingly picks up the slack around the house when I’m facing a deadline.

  My daughters, whose belief in me carries me through my not-infrequent moments of self-doubt—and who, for the most part, don’t complain too much about the lack of groceries in the house when I become a little too wrapped up in a story.

  My many friends who have patiently endured the ups and downs of my becoming a published author, and who share so generously and enthusiastically in my excitement.

  My editor, Michelle Vega, who has provided a calm, steady guidance through the whole publishing process and is as excited about my story as I am.

  My agent, Becca Stumpf, whose perfectionism rivals my own and keeps me honest to myself, my story, and my readers.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Forty-one

  Forty-two

  Forty-three

  Forty-four

  Forty-five

  Forty-six

  Forty-seven

  Forty-eight

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  Five thousand years ago

  “Do we have an agreement?” the One asked.

  “You’re serious.” Lucifer turned from the window, a scowl etched between his brows, eyes clouded with suspicion
. “You would do this to your own son, burden him with this destiny.”

  “We would do this to our son,” the One corrected, “because we have run out of other options. We both know the pact between us won’t last forever. There are too many variables. And if we go to war again, it will never end. Think of it, Lucifer: you wish the annihilation of the mortals, I wish their survival. When the peace now between us comes to an end, let our son decide which of our wishes will be granted. Seth is equal parts each of us. Who better to decide who is right about the mortal race?”

  “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you’ll abide by the agreement if he chooses against you?”

  “Because I am the One,” she said simply. She met her former helpmeet’s gaze with an unflinching one of her own. His mouth drew almost imperceptibly tighter. She felt her heartbeat catch. For a moment, she wondered if he might have guessed at her secret. Then, deep within him, she sensed his desire to accept her words, his longing to believe her. She offered him a small smile.

  Lucifer’s gaze flicked to the wall and then returned to her. He rocked back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets.

  “You’ve always said my mortal children are worthless,” she pressed. “That there was no point to their existence. If you truly believe that, if you’re certain you’re right, then this is your chance to redeem your views. Our son, reborn into the mortal world to live as one of them, raised by them, growing to adulthood—and then, by his own choices, deciding their fate. If he chooses to live a life of good, to live up to his potential by mortal standards, then you acknowledge the inherent worth of all humans and withdraw fully from their realm. If he chooses otherwise, then I accept defeat. And if either of us does anything to interfere with him once the contract is signed, we forfeit. Do we have an agreement?”

  “Forfeit how?”

  “We accept defeat according to the terms.”

  Nostrils flaring and jaw tight, Lucifer stared at her, hovering on the edge of decision. “And us?” he asked at last. “What of us?”

  The One hesitated. She had anticipated this question and agonized over it for days before coming up with a response that would satisfy Lucifer without being a lie. Vague as the words were, however, they still proved difficult to utter. She straightened, finding resolve in the certainty that she did what was right. That it was the only way.

  Without meeting his eyes, she recited the words she had rehearsed. “One way or the other, my mortal children will no longer stand in our way.”

  “That’s not much of an answer.”

  “It is the best I can give. A great deal of betrayal has passed between us.”

  “Betrayal on both sides.” Bitterness edged Lucifer’s words.

  The One inclined her head, acknowledging his perspective without commenting on its truth—or lack thereof.

  Lucifer’s jaw hardened. “What is to stop me from breaking the pact now and triggering this agreement you propose? If the decision will be that final, perhaps we should just get it over with.”

  “We could. But with an equal chance that Seth might take my path, are you willing to take the risk before you must? I don’t propose this as an alternative, Lucifer, but as a last possible resort.”

  He stared at her for a long moment without speaking. Then, suddenly, hostility fell away to reveal raw agony shining from his eyes. “Is there any hope?” he asked. “Can you ever love me again?”

  The One stared at him, her most beautiful of all creations, wrought from desire and longing and her own infinite capacity for love. She had not laid eyes on him since his departure from Heaven more than a thousand years before, had refused even to call his image to mind, and so allowed herself a moment now to study him. To remember all he had been…see all he still was.

  He stood before her, tall and fair, his eyes the pure, crystalline color of amethyst, his magnificent wings pulsing with a glow that had faded only slightly in the years apart from her. The One’s heart contracted in a spasm of pain a hundred thousand times greater than his would ever be. Could ever be. Even now, even after all he had done, all he had become, it seemed light itself originated within him.

  Lucifer, her Light-Bearer, stared back at her, waiting.

  She answered with the truth. “I never stopped.”

  The hope she needed to inspire within him sparked in his eyes at last. He held her gaze a moment longer, then crossed the room to the desk. Pulling the parchment toward him, he plucked a feather from his wing, dipped it into an inkpot, and signed his name. The scratch of quill tip against paper was loud in the silence that had fallen. He held the feather out to her.

  “We have an agreement,” he said.

  With all her heart, she wanted to believe him.

  ONE

  “Yo, Jarvis!”

  Alexandra Jarvis lifted her forehead from the hand supporting it and peered over the jumble of files strewn across her desk. Raymond Joly stood in the entrance to the elevator hallway.

  “You got company.” The other detective jabbed his thumb at the woman beside him before strolling away, coffee cup in hand.

  Even before Alex’s gaze settled on her sister, she remembered. After three weeks of hedging, she’d finally given in and promised to meet Jen for an early lunch—she shot a look at the clock above Jen’s head and winced—half an hour ago. Great. The entire morning had dragged by in thirty-second increments, and still she’d managed to lose track of time, giving her older sibling yet one more lecture topic.

  Heaving a sigh, she climbed to her feet and grimaced at the stiffness of a body unaccustomed to week after week of desk duty. Three files slid off the pile, heading for the floor. Alex grabbed, missed, and with another sigh, stooped to retrieve the waterfall of paper.

  Her sister arrived desk-side as she dropped the wayward files on top of the others.

  “I think you’re losing.”

  “I think I lost before I even started,” Alex replied. This lunch date was a bad idea. She and Jen had so little to say to one another these days, with both of them skirting the issue of what had happened. What might have happened. What Alex knew to be true and Jen preferred not to know at all.

  Jen waved at the files. “What do they have you doing?”

  “Cold cases. Making calls to see if anything new has turned up. Some of these go back thirty years. You can imagine my success rate so far.” Alex grimaced. She paused, then added, “And you can see how far behind I am.”

  “Are you trying to get out of lunch, by any chance?”

  “I wouldn’t if I didn’t have so much—” Meeting her sister’s brown eyes, she stopped. She couldn’t lie. Not to Jen. Not after what she’d put her sister through. And her niece. She swallowed. “I just don’t want to get into anything with you, that’s all.”

  Jen lifted her chin. “And I don’t want to start anything, but you have to know I’m worried about you, Alex.” She crossed her arms and looked away, biting at her lip. “You haven’t been over to the house, you never call Nina…”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy with the insurance and the repairs and—” Again the lies stuck in Alex’s throat. Aware of far too many ears in the vicinity, she jerked her head toward the conference room. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

  She led the way into the windowed room, closing the door behind them. Pasting a smile onto her face, she turned to Jen. “So how is Nina, anyway?”

  “You could call her yourself and ask.”

  “Jen.”

  Her sister sighed. “She’s okay. We found a great therapist and Nina seems to like her. She still won’t sleep alone, but the nightmares aren’t as frequent.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  It was good—and nothing short of miraculous, given that Nina had witnessed the mass murder of twenty-one people, seen a Fallen Angel in his demonic form, and very nearly been driven to suicide by the experience. A shudder rippled through Alex at the stir of memories. She crossed her arms over herself and perched on the
edge of the conference table. Not going there, Jarvis. Not now. Not with Jen watching.

  “The real question is how are you?” Jen asked. Her gaze moved to the scar at Alex’s throat, then dropped to the three additional ridges slashed across her chest.

  Alex tightened her arms against the urge to pull her blouse closed over the remains of the gashes that had so nearly ended her life. “Surviving.”

  “Are you still seeing the department psychiatrist?”

  “Not by choice”—Alex grimaced—“but yes. It’s force policy. Roberts tried to pull some strings, but he didn’t get far.”

  Her staff inspector had been amazing, in fact, doing everything he could to have the usual post-traumatic-event evaluation waived for her. Roberts might not know exactly what had happened in Alex’s house the night she’d almost died, but the careful way he didn’t ask too much told Alex that he had his suspicions. And that, like Jen, he would rather not know about the reality of Heaven and Hell, or angels and demons, or the impending war between them. A war almost certain to wipe out humanity.

  “Is it helping?” Jen asked. “Have you told him what happened?”

  Alex snorted at the idea of confiding in the pompous, irritating Dr. Bell. He’d restricted her to desk duty based on what little he did know. If she told him just a fraction of what she carried around in her head these days, he’d slap her into a psych ward and throw away the key.

  Well, you see, Doc, it turns out my soulmate is an angel and he’s been cast out of Heaven because he fell in love with me and killed his twin brother. That was the demon who tried to do me in, by the way, and the whole mess may well have triggered the Apocalypse, and…

  Oh, yeah. She could just imagine how fast the department shrink would draw up those commitment papers. Alex squeezed her eyelids shut against the ache in her right temple, a dull throb that never quite went away. Another leftover from her near-fatal confrontation with Aramael’s twin.

  Opening her eyes, she met her sister’s frown. “Bell isn’t the confiding type.”