Chapter 12
Twelve
Mercy
They think I’m the antichrist. Me.
A part of me rages at the word, but another, deeper part remembers other words. Truer words I’ve worked to bury in the past.
You’re not normal!
He’d still be alive if not for you.
Only the devil would love such an evil child.
A touch on my hand startles me, and I turn to focus on the Rev’s gnarled fingers. Tawny reaches across the table and covers my other hand with hers. Leila joins in, then Thea, and Raven does the same. Each takes hold of a part of me.
“Of course, we don’t believe it,” the Rev says. “It’s purely a coincidence.”
“Even if you were the antichrist,” Tawny adds, fierce loyalty burning in her expression, “I would find a way to save you.”
“We all would,” Leila insists.
“But you’re not,” Raven finishes, resolute in her gaze.
“You might look like Lilith, but you’re not her.
Just like she—” She casts a wry glance at Tawny.
“Looks like a Tay-Tay and talks like a Tay-Tay, but she don’t quack like a Tay-Tay.
” At our blank faces, she explains, “She can’t hold a tune to save her life. ”
“Hey.” Tawny pouts. “I’m an awesome singer.”
“Yeah.” Raven nods, expression flat. “You should audition for the Voice.”
“You think?” Hopeful eyes swing to me. “I mean—”
“She’s kidding, babe,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips. “You kind of suck.” Her bottom lip pops out, and I squeeze her hand back. “But I would find a way to listen to you.”
Laughter erupts around the table, and when Tawny throws in a jibe about Raven in return, we’re in stitches.
“Alright, enough of that.” The Rev claps her hands. “We need to get on with the reports, or we’ll be here all night.”
“Ooh, an all-nighter.” Tawny looks far too excited. “Camp out?”
“A sleepover?” I shrug. “Why not. It’s been a while since we all did that.”
“Pizza!” She jumps to her feet, one hand already dialing the local delivery service, the other pointing at each Sinner and reciting her usual order.
“Pepperoni, Meat lovers, Vegetarian, and you’re Supreme.
” She doesn’t wait for confirmation and walks off into the quieter parts of the archives to finish her call.
“Back to the reports,” the Rev says.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Team Saint?” Leila shoots a worried glance at the staircase leading down from the archives. “They’ll be back any minute.”
“We can’t wait.” The Rev motions for Tawny to open her laptop and then slips on her spectacles.
“Hannah called from the airport. She’s with Jasmine and should be here any minute.
” She points at Raven, then at the ledger before her, indicating she is ready for the report.
She doesn’t even look up when she adds, “And she’s bringing recruits. ”
At least it’s not just me who’s surprised by this news. We all stop what we’re doing and ask for more information. Recruits? Who? From where? Aren’t we pausing that function of the Sisterhood? Didn’t we promise not to train up new assassins?
“All will become clear when they arrive,” the Rev says, giving me a pointed look.
Right. I nod. Team Saint will be back from their rounds soon. We can’t talk about them behind their backs if they’re standing in front of us.
I turn to Thea and Leila. “You asked for time to get the truth about loyalties out of Team Saint the easy way. You’ve had time. Do they stand with us or the Vatican?”
Leila winces. “Zeke’s tried to get a straight answer out of Father, but no dice.”
“Wesley too,” Thea adds. “It seems Father’s not a huge talker unless it’s part of the liturgy.” She sighs. “The most he’s shared about his true mission is what they already know—they’re supposed to dismantle us. Apparently, he just keeps telling them he’s got it sorted.”
Raven takes a swig of her flask and mutters to me, “This would be a lot easier if you boned him already.”
Heat races up my throat, choking the air from my lungs.
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” I drop the pile of translations I’d been pretending to organize. The thud is an explosion in the small room. “Are you deaf? The man is a priest. That collar is a leash for a dog of God, and I don’t untie other people’s mutts.”
Raven just smiles, that slow, predatory curve that says she sees exactly how much this is tearing me apart.
“He’s a hot man with a secret, Mercy,” Raven drawls, lifting the flask again. “You like breaking rules. His vow is the biggest rule in the abbey. Break it, and you break him.”
My teeth grind so hard my jaw aches.
“I’d rather break his bones. A few crumbs of intelligence aren’t worth the drama that comes from fucking him.”
“Since when do you care if drama gets in the way of a good fuck?” Tawny points out, then grins at Raven. “It would be good, wouldn’t it?”
“A man with that much repressed—”
The Reverend Mother loudly clears her throat, staring point-blank at Raven until she returns to her paperwork.
“Regardless, it’s more than crumbs,” Thea continues, ever the pragmatic strategist. “He’s their spiritual leader here. Uniting with him gives us leverage.”
I look to Leila. She shrugs, her eyes earnest. “Let’s be honest. You and Father are both walking, breathing sexual catastrophes waiting to happen. Stop pretending you don’t want to hit that.”
I scoff. “This isn’t about a prophecy, and it’s certainly not about sex.
It’s about control. The Entity thinks they can send a spy here to dismantle us, to condemn us.
” My vision narrows as I recall Cisco hunched in prayer after my confession, refusing to look at me.
He might have claimed to want our trust, but actions speak louder than words.
“I want to see the stain on that priest’s soul.
I want to make him beg me to take it. I want to shatter that stoic control so completely that when he looks in the mirror, all he sees is me. ”
Silence.
Crickets.
My eyes widen. Did I just say that? Out loud?
Is that what I really want?
Slowly, I face my team. Even the Reverend Mother wears a knowing expression.
Male voices on the stairs save me from facing my feelings. Dominic and Wesley arrive, faces flushed from the cold outdoors. Dominic takes a spare seat beside the Rev. Wes, who sits beside Thea, gives the Rev a quick nod, and says, “All good on our side.”
No signs of demonic activity.
The Rev orders Tawny to report on world news.
“Okay, so the global news outlets are starting to report strangeness,” Tawny begins, her voice tight as she reads from her phone. “The World Health Organization is calling it a ‘taste and texture disorder.’ Some are calling it mass hysteria, the latest online viral trend.”
“I suppose that’s good, right?” I glance around the table nervously. “If they think it’s a hoax, then we might have more time before shit goes sideways.”
The mumbled agreements don’t sound too convincing.
Tawny scrolls, tapping the screen with an agitated fingernail.
“There’s also a new agricultural anomaly in the Midwest. They’re calling it ‘The Black Blight.’ Crops are failing en masse, not rotting yet, but collapsing and wilting in the field.
” She pauses, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.
“Many reports mention a strange, thick, black sickness in livestock. They’re dying with black fluid on their mouths and infested with flies. ”
Black blood. The fish Jinx dragged in from the lake. The one Raven called an omen. I feel the last vestiges of blood drain from my face.
Tawny continues, oblivious to the terror she’s sown. “Those infestations aren’t that common, though. They’re weirdly localized and only new … like today, new. I’ll have to fact-check—”
Mid-sentence, she glances toward the door and cocks her head. For a moment, I think the worst, that there’s a reason the priest and Zeke are late returning from their security sweep of the grounds. But a grin splits across Tawny’s face, and she jumps to her feet. “Pizza’s here.”
After she dashes out of the room and toward the staircase, Leila murmurs, “She’s like a dog, I swear.”
Raven starts running through the latest inquiries from the Sisterhood’s fake paranormal activity hotline. We set it up years ago to help us investigate fact from fiction when demonic activity first appeared.
“Two suspected possessions in Tricott,” she drones, “Three in Forks County. One thinks her neighbor is possessed because their dog barks at her all day.”
“Um, guys.” Tawny’s voice filters in from the main archives.
I gesture vaguely to the door, eyes still on the hotline report. “Someone help her bring in the pizza.”
“It’s not pizza,” Thea says, eyes wide.
The atmosphere shifts around me. From the tension-filled expressions on everyone’s faces, it’s not good. I turn to peer through the open doorway to see Tawny at the top of the staircase.
She’s not alone. Beside her stand two women dressed all in black except for the red cross splashed across the front of their hoodies.
If it weren’t for their Sinner uniforms, I almost didn’t recognize them.
Hannah’s dark hair has been cut into an austere bob, her demeanor every bit the Senator she was impersonating at the Pentagon.
Weapons strapped to her body are spotless.
Jasmine, on the other hand, is covered from head to toe in dirt, scratches, and old blood.
But I know it’s her because of the way she stands, one hand gripping the bloody dagger on her hip like it’s a security blanket.
When she first arrived at the abbey, she would sleep with that dagger under her pillow.
Her long brown braid is frayed, and her eyes are wild with alarm.
The three young girls hiding behind her are much the same, banged up and alarmed, each holding a small suitcase.
They can’t be older than ten or eleven years.
“I thought you weren’t taking in recruits.” Wesley’s harsh voice cuts through the silence.
Jasmine’s eyes snap to him and narrow. “Who the fuck are you?”
Oh shit.
“You didn’t warn her?” I ask the Rev, brows raising.
Her helpless look says it all. Jasmine’s flung dagger at Wesley’s head says the rest.