Chapter 2
Two
Mercy
The priest is still looking at me when Zeke opens his mouth.
“Yo, wildcat!” he shouts at Leila and then stretches out the hem of his shirt as he detours off the walled garden path toward us. “Check it!”
A glower darkens Cisco’s face, and he checks his watch. Since the tasteless food debacle, both teams have taken turns patrolling the estate for signs of demonic activity. Tonight is Team Saint’s turn.
So far, we’ve had no signs of evil. No more omens.
The vegetables and fruit in the walled garden are bouncing back from their withering.
Even the food tastes better. We’ve had zero signs of demonic activity related to the arrival of the Third Horseman of War, Famine.
But that doesn’t mean Famine isn’t here somewhere.
Pestilence and War behaved differently to each other; the only unifying factor was that each Horseman was also a Demon Prince of Hell.
It feels like we’re waiting for the penny to drop.
Still breathing hard, Leila meets Zeke halfway. The rest of the Sinners aren’t far behind, but I hang back to face the lake one last time before the evening mist swallows it. A prickle on the back of my neck tells me the priest is watching.
With casual, deliberate movements, I fix my long, sweat-damp hair into a top knot. Every twirl of hair, tilt of my head, and jut of my hips is designed to make the most devout men weep. A smile tugs at my lips when I hear Cisco’s brusque reminder: “Ezekiel!”
I twist around and see him a little too flushed in the cheeks for the sun, and glowering at his watch.
When I start toward the abbey, his gaze flicks to me, and then he walks in the opposite direction.
I’d feel triumphant if not for the way he’s tucked a large wooden crucifix and a bottle of holy water into his rear pocket.
It wobbles when his tightly black-clad buttocks flex, drawing my attention, raising my temperature.
Zeke’s lips flatten briefly, but then he kisses the air in Leila’s direction and jogs after the man, already five steps along the long winding perimeter path.
“Is that on his shirt what I think it is?” Tawny scratches her head.
Leila groans and drags her palm down her face. “I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”
Raven snorts. “Did he make one for all of them?”
“Yes.” Her groan deepens.
“Why so glum?” I clap her on the back, lips twitching with the urge to stifle my smile. “I’m sure you’ll look perfect.”
“I will not.”
“I think it looks great!” Tawny adds with a bright smile. “Anyway, we’ve been trying to get a straight answer out of the priest for days now. He’ll either agree to wear the shirt—proving his loyalty—or he won’t.”
We all stare at Tawny. Blink. Stare some more.
“Like torture?” Leila asks, eyes narrow.
“Babe.” I soften my tone for Tawny. “I don’t think this would prove a lot. Cisco could just pretend.”
“I still think it’s cool,” she mumbles.
The five of us watch the receding pair. The typography and logo on the back of Zeke’s top are still legible.
Instead of wearing his usual beat-up band t-shirt, he’s made a new one.
The front reads, “The Sinner Sisterhood Official Fan Club.” The back reads, “Enjoy the Ride” and features a grinning devil skull logo, burning in the fiery pits of hell.
“I suppose it could have been worse.” Leila winces. “He was going to make a shirt for us, too.”
“Oh-ooh. Yes, please.” Tawny sticks up her hand and bounces on her toes. “I want a bedazzled, pink skull.”
If she didn’t enjoy napping so much, I’d think she drank from the fountain of youth with her impressive recovery rate.
She swats a fly out of her face, and then her gaze lights up with another idea. “Ooh, and I also want the skull to have headphones on.”
“If he’s taking requests, then I want a dagger embedded into my skull symbol.” Raven mimes stabbing her head at the top. “And bloody tears dripping from each eye socket. And a holy cross branded on my skull’s forehead.”
A branded cross? Like the one Dominic has on the back of his head?
“That’s … oddly specific,” I note, a little concerned.
She flips me the middle finger on both hands. “And I want it to say, ‘Fuck the Saints.’”
“You can’t.” Thea shoves her. “That’s my line.”
“You don’t own it.” Raven steps up to her, a challenge in her eyes.
“Girls, girls.” I raise my palms. “No need to fight. There’s plenty of fucks to go around.”
Leila points at me. “Slogan of your band T-shirt.”
We break out into giggles, and it feels good. I missed my bitches. My babes. I hate feeling like they don’t trust me.
Splashing in the lake draws my attention.
“Shh,” I hiss, and point at the water where something swims in the shallows, displacing mist.
I stupidly left my weapons in my room. The sweat towel will have to do. I’m not the only one rolling it around my fist for protection, eyes narrowing as we creep toward the misty shoreline. But when a small, iridescent, and frilly creature bolts out, I lower my hand.
Jinx, the ex-demon Thea healed with her relic, scampers up to us with a mouthful of flapping carp.
She shakes like a shaggy dog. Water sprays all over us.
Tawny squeals, shielding her face. In the distance, I see Zeke and Cisco stop on their path.
Cisco’s shoulders tense as he scrutinizes the scene, checking our safety.
He thinks I can’t protect my girls. Jaw clenching, I give him my back and return my attention to the slimy ex-demonic pet.
“Jinx!” Thea groans.
For a split second, I glimpse a flash of darkness in the creature’s eyes. Just enough to make me wonder how much of its demon side remains. Then Jinx bites down hard with her mouth of fangs. The flapping fish halts. Blood oozes onto the grass, and then a burst of flies.
A chorus of “Ews,” “disgusting,” and “What the fucks” rings out as we all jump back.
Jinx gives the fish a final, lethal kill shake, but this time, we see the danger coming and shield ourselves from the spray with our gym towels. The next time I look, Jinx is sitting at Thea’s feet, eagerly looking up at her with stubby horns pointed forward and a frilly, serpentine tail thumping.
“Did you … eat the flies?” Thea’s nose scrunches at the dead fish. “You want a reward?”
“She’d better not bring that inside,” I say. “Sister Edith will have a fit.”
“Don’t bring it inside,” Thea tells the ex-demon. But when Jinx lets out a demanding dolphin bark in response, we all exchange concerned looks.
I crouch and inspect the fish. The blood is off. Darker than usual. Almost black.
“Babes, look.” I use a nearby twig to lift the flap of skin where fangs tore through. A putrid smell hits me so hard that I fall back on my ass. “Oof.”
“Bad vibes.” Raven blocks her nose but also squats, getting closer to inspect it. She closes her eyes and hovers her free hand over the corpse. Two seconds, that’s all it takes, and she snatches her hand back as if burned. Then she’s up on her feet, backing away, face slack. “An omen.”
Raven has psychic abilities we’re still trying to understand. Sometimes it manifests as prophetic dreams, sometimes as visions, sometimes as general ‘vibes.’ We all know to trust them in any shape or form.
“Shit.” Leila takes a step toward the walled garden. “I should warn them.”
“No.” I stop her, hand on wrist. “It’s one fish.”
“But—”
“They need to complete the rounds first.” I widen my eyes, my silence making my point: Don’t fuck with me. “Text him when they return to the dorms.”
The struggle to disobey me is evident on her face, but guilt, or years as a soldier, make her fall in line, and she nods. Good. I don’t need a control freak priest telling me what to do right now.
“We only have twenty minutes to shower, and then we’re to meet the Rev in the archives.” To Thea, I say, “Bag up the fish and bring it.”
She nods, but a glint of worry flashes in her eyes when she looks at the abbey. Wes and Dominic are due to start their patrol of the grounds any minute.
“Good girl,” I tell Jinx, and then walk toward the abbey.
Tawny bolts past me, shouting. “Dibs on the first shower.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. Should have seen that coming. “How she still has energy, I’ll never know.”
“Hollow legs store all that energy.” Raven walks beside me, tapping her thigh. “You should see how many empty packets of food are beneath her cot.”
“So unfair,” I pout. “I have to work out twice as hard to stay fit.”
“Let her have it.” Raven’s expression darkens as we climb the porch steps. She gets that far-off look, which means she knows something we don’t. “Tawny needs all the wins she can get.”
“What does that mean?” I grab her shoulder, but she shirks me off and yanks on the handle, stepping back and opening the door like a bellhop. I have to move out of the way, or get knocked over.
She plasters a polite smile on her face when Dominic walks out. He’s not wearing a band T-shirt, just his usual tailor-made designer suit. Wesley is behind him in a crumpled three-piece, his hands loaded with occult weapons and geomancy cards.
I glance back at Dom. Apart from the cross branded on the back of his shaved head and the arcane tattoos on his body, he never carries a weapon.
It makes me wonder if being a Saint is the weapon.
I chalk that curiosity up to the mental board of truths I need Team Saint to explain before I can completely trust them.
“After you.” Raven gestures with her free hand for the two men to exit first.
Dom gives her a suspicious look, but strides through.
“Appreciate it, love.” Wesley nods at her.
“Don’t.” Raven sticks out her foot, tripping Dominic.
When 220 pounds of saintly muscle falls flat, you’d expect the foundations to shake. Or the wood to splinter. Or a hole to open in the ground and suck us straight to hell. But when Dominic falls, his hands fly out, and he lands softly, as if his beefy arms are springs.
“Shit, Dom.” Wes drops his things and rushes to aid his teammate. “You good, mate?”
“Sì,” he replies, accepting Wesley’s hand and climbing to his feet.
I raise my brows at Raven. What was that about?
But she doesn’t see the question on my face. She’s too busy studying the Saint, watching him as if he’s about to grow a tail and devil horns. Thea and Leila arrive, Jinx hot on their heels.
“You sure?” Wes asks Dom, but scowls at Raven.
Dusting himself off, the Saint slides an unreadable look her way. Not a flicker of anger. Not a hint of retaliation.
“You should watch where you step,” Raven warns, and then heads inside.
“We need to work together,” Wes grumbles, collecting his things.
Thea sighs and helps him. “I know.”
“With the Entity—” Wesley cuts himself off, jaw tense as they stand together. He glowers at me. “Zeke and I are as much in danger as you lot are. Believe it or not, we’re on the same side.” He darts a glance at Dom, who is halfway down the steps. “We all are.”
“You sure about that?” I raise my brows. “Has your priest explained his role yet? Has he even given you an ETA on the Entity’s arrival?”
Wesley hesitates. “No, but—”
“Nothing is set in stone, scholar,” I reply, gaze firm.
He adjusts his slipping glasses. “Which is why I’ve renewed the protection wards around the estate, spent hours teaching you all arcane spells, and continue to do everything in my power to keep us safe.”
Thea steps closer to her man and tells me, “They’re on our side.”
“So you keep saying.” I hold the door open and stare after Raven. “But it seems we’re not all on their side.”