“I feed her fine,” Beckett shoots back as he takes a seat beside me. Annoyance still lurks in his tone, but there’s no real bite to his words. He doesn’t seem genuinely angry, and I wonder if this is something he and Remington do all the time.
They are brothers, after all. Don’t brothers give each other a hard time?
Once the two of us are settled, Remington disappears into the kitchen. Within minutes, we’re being served absolutely delicious food by waiters dressed in tuxedos.
“I don’t get it,” I say, as I start to dig in. Oh, wow. If I thought last night’s meal was the best thing I’d ever eaten, it was nothing compared to this. I’m practically salivating as I try not to stuff my mouth full. I want to savor this. Who knows when I’ll get to eat food this good ever again? “I expected Gluttony to be…”
“Overweight?” Beckett looks amused. “Yes. Just as I’m sure you expected me to sleep on a pile of gold every night. We’re not stereotypes, angel. We embody the idea of whatever sin we are. And if I did sleep on a pile of gold, do you think people would be so quick to do as I told them, to follow me in pursuing their greed? True sin doesn’t come with a neon sign. It’s subtle. That’s how you hook people.”
“Huh. That’s not paranoia-inducing at all.”
Beckett chuckles. We finish the first course, and another is brought to us.
“Look,” he tells me in a low voice. “People have started wars over Remington’s cooking. He’s poisoned world leaders and led kings to fall down a rabbit hole of feasting and thinking of nothing else. He’s caused nations to fall. Just look at the bickering and backstabbing he causes in the culinary world today—although you might not be aware of that if you’re not in those circles.”
I shake my head. I didn’t even know there were culinary circles. My understanding of fine cuisine extends only as far as “liked it” and “didn’t like it.”
Beckett dips his chin. “Remi represents the desire to live a good life at the expense of making hard choices and doing hard things. He makes you want to over-indulge in the things that feel good so you forget the things that don’t. So you can ignore the difficult things you should be doing. Just like I make people hunger for more. For better.” He shrugs.
“But he’s a good person too,” I argue, and in that moment, I believe it. I feel like I can taste it in the food I’m eating. The warmth, the sense of home, the feeling of belonging. It’s like I’m learning who Remington is by eating this meal that he’s prepared.
Beckett arches an eyebrow at me. “You taste what you want to taste; what you want to indulge in.”
I pause.
Remington’s food… tastes like home.
What is home, to me? It’s the place I can’t go. The place I was banished from. The place I’m trying to get back to. I’m lying and manipulating these sins so I can achieve that. Remington’s food tastes of what I want more than anything.
Well, then.
“Ever since you started eating, what have you been talking about? Remington. About how great he is.” Beckett nods at the servers as they deliver us another course. “What about that whole demon portal you were so eager to get help with just a short bit ago? You know, the one you were so determined to stop yesterday that you were going to march out by yourself while injured to make it happen?”
My jaw drops, probably giving Beckett a very unappetizing view of the half-chewed food in my mouth.
Oh, no.
I completely forgot about that.
I forgot about everything. I was so focused on getting more of the delicious flavor, the feeling of home, that everything else faded from my mind.
I quickly shove the plate of food away. Beckett laughs and pulls it toward him instead, digging in.
“What does it taste like to you?” I ask.
His eyes darken. For a moment, I see real anger and pain in his green irises before he snaps back to normal. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, is it, angel?”
A shiver runs down my spine, and I remind myself for the dozenth time that there’s so much I don’t know about these men. There’s certainly more to Beckett than I thought.
“How are you guys enjoying the food?” Remington asks, walking back up and breaking the tense moment that hovers between us. He’s all congenial smiles, and I hate the fact that he looks, sounds, even smells like home. I know it’s just a trick, the power of his sin working its magic, but he’s gotten under my skin—and I don’t know how to undo that.
“It’s delicious, as always,” Beckett says like he’s at the head of the table in a boardroom. “Sit for a minute. We need to talk.”
“About what? Is it one of the others?” Remington sounds immediately concerned. He slides into the seat on my other side, meeting my gaze. “Are you here about one of my brothers?”
“They’re all fine. As far as I know.” Beckett adds the last bit almost as an afterthought.
“Geez, Beck.” Gluttony shakes his head, letting out a breath. “Give a guy a heart attack. Maybe lead with that next time?”
“It’s not my fault if you jump to the wrong conclusions.”
“Given our history? You can’t blame me.” Remington shoots me an apologetic smile, and I find myself smiling back. No, stop it. Bad Trinity! “Sorry about us. Siblings, you know?”
I nod, even though I don’t know. I suppose technically the others who used to work with me Upstairs are my “siblings,” but we never acted like it. Not like these men do. We acted more like coworkers. Fellow employees.
“I don’t know if you happened to notice anything unusual last night, seeing as you’re married to your kitchen.” Beckett raises an eyebrow. “But a sinkhole to Below has opened up right here in the city.”
The other sin blinks a few times. “Are… you’re serious? A sinkhole to—” He stops and looks at me. “Um. I’m assuming you’re not a normal human if he’s saying this kind of thing in front of you.”
“She’s an angel,” Beckett says with his usual flair for being bluntly honest in the most annoying way possible.
Remington’s mouth falls open. He looks me up and down, seeming a little in awe, then smiles. “I haven’t seen an angel in millennia. Wow.” He frowns. “He didn’t sleep with you, did he? I’m so sorry if he did.”
“Are you insulting my skills in the bedroom?” Beckett sounds highly offended.
“More your interpersonal skills. But we’re working on those.” Remington says this last bit to me very seriously, like he is in fact having a once a week meeting with Beckett on how to be a nicer person to his one-night stands.
I swallow hard and then clear my throat, my entire mouth suddenly going bone-dry.
“Um… we haven’t… no. Uh, we—I sealed up the portal for now but it won’t last, my seal I mean, and we have to find a way to close it permanently. Beckett said he needed backup? And that he would get you guys to help him?”
Remington takes my hand and squeezes it, and he does look extremely soft and sincere. I feel relaxed around him, even though I know I shouldn’t. “Wow. Beckett offered all that, did he?” He beams proudly at the man on my opposite side. “I told you a little friendliness wouldn’t hurt.”