Sin Undone Read Free Page B

assassination services, or what?” She threw that out just to get a reaction from her uptight, always-in-control brother, but to her surprise, it was Con who made the noise.
    “You’re here because wargs are dying, and it’s your fault,” he growled, a hint of an odd British-ish accent tweaking his words. It happened when he got all pissy, and it was strangely… hot.
    But she still didn’t like him, and she wrenched her head around to peg him with a glare. Which might have been a good plan if he hadn’t looked so damned good in his black paramedic uniform, which set off his deeply tanned skin and sun-streaked blond hair so beautifully. Toss in those shimmering silver eyes, and there was no glaring at him. Only admiring.
    “Why are you even here?” she snapped, more irritated by her reaction to him than anything. “I didn’t think the disease affected dhampires.”
    “I’m on the Warg Council. I’m keeping them informed.”
    “Well, good for you.”
    Eidolon cleared his throat imperiously. “Actually, you’re both here for a reason. Sin, it’s time that we put some serious effort into working with your gift. We’ve got to determine a way to use it to treat the disease.”
    “We tried that before. My ‘gift’ kills. It doesn’t cure.” Her “gift” was something she’d really like to give right back to her Seminus father. Too bad he was dead.
    “Yeah, well, technically, you shouldn’t exist, so I’m not ready to write off the impossible.”
    Oh, she loved the reminders about how she was a freak of nature, the only female Seminus demon to ever have been born. A Smurfette, as Wraith liked to call her.
    “So what’s your plan?”
    “Can you use your gift to determine what kind of disease resides inside a body? If you touch someone who is ill, can you tell what they are sick with?”
    “Sort of. I can feel the arrangement of the virus or bacteria or whatever. And once I learn it, I can replicate that specific disease.” She shot Conall a smirk. “Khileshi cockfire is a favorite.”
    Wraith laughed. Conall paled. Eidolon looked at her like she was responsible for every case of the excruciating, dick-shriveling venereal disease he’d ever treated. The guy was so freaking uptight he probably starched his freaking underwear.
    “As disturbing as that is,” Eidolon said flatly, “it’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
    There was a tap at the door, and Lore strode past Wraith, who was still playing doorjamb sentinel. Lore held a folder in his leather-gloved hand, and Sin didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing her twin brother in scrubs. “I read the R-XR’s initial report on the immune wargs, and something jumped out at me. The wargs who didn’t catch SF after being exposed were born wargs. So I examined the bodies in our morgue and ran some tests. I know not every warg that’s been infected has come through the hospital, but the ones who have? Turned wargs.”
    Sin frowned. “SF?”
    “Sin Fever,” Wraith chimed in a little too enthusiastically.
    Sin Fever? They’d named the fucking disease after her? Bastards.
    E flipped excitedly through the folder Lore gave him. “Just when I thought we’d never find a link between the victims. I’ll call the R-XR and let them know. Excellent work, Lore.”
    Despite the grim subject matter, Sin couldn’t help but be thrilled that her brother, who had, as an assassin, known nothing but killing and loneliness until just weeks ago, was now mated, happy, and working in the hospital—the morgue, where his death-touch couldn’t accidentally kill anyone.
    “Wait,” Sin said. “How can you tell the difference between turned and born werewolves?”
    “Born wargs usually have a birthmark somewhere on their bodies, but we can’t always go by that.” Before Sin could ask why, Eidolon finished. “Outcasts are required to have them removed, and some turned wargs have them artificially applied, so we have to perform genetic testing to determine