Chapter 2
Two
Mercy
On my way out, I check on the orphans and find Tawny inside their fort, braiding hair, popping gum, and listening to Alice’s old Nina Simone records.
The thought of our old Team Leader makes my throat ache. I itch to give her a call just to hear her voice, but I know I’d just make myself miss her more.
Tawny freezes when she sees me. “Uh-oh.”
The girls gasp, wide-eyed.
“Okay.” I fold my arms. “That doesn’t seem suspicious at all.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” By the foot of the fort, Lucia subtly slides something behind her back.
My brows raise, and I turn to Tawny. “I hope that’s not contraband.”
She screws up her nose. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The girls laugh. That’s when I notice jelly bits stuck in their teeth, and I gasp. “You found tasty candy!”
Famine’s mark on the quality of food this past week has taken its toll on many of us. When everything you put in your mouth tastes like ash, your appetite fades.
My stomach grumbles. The girls squeal and burrow deeper into the fort, disappearing beneath the sheet. Tawny goes all pale and stiff, then averts her gaze.
Wait. Is she still angry at me for joking with Cisco about her cupcake evil-taste-testing?
“Babe,” I say, voice soft. “I love you. Are you okay?”
She tenses and plucks at a pillow. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” I tug at the habit’s veil. “I wish I could stay and talk, but unfortunately, we’re running late as it is.”
When she doesn’t answer, I get down on my knees and draw her in for a hug. She goes stiff and keeps her arms stubbornly at her sides. I’m around fifteen years older than her. Sometimes I forget how much more experience I’ve had than her, and how much of it has made me jaded.
“We’re going to be okay, right?” she asks.
I rub her back and whisper into her hair, “I promise.”
Something in those words breaks her, and she throws her arms around me, squeezing hard. My god, she’s trembling.
“Is Father Angelotti okay?” she whispers.
I don’t have an answer for her, but it warms my heart that she’s worried about him. “We’ll find out more about his family curse in Italy.”
She nods.
“Tawny.” I pull back and search her eyes, but she puts on the mask Sinners are all too aware of.
“You’re going to need to keep your blood sugar up.” She reaches into the fort and drags out a crackling plastic bag. The orphans whine and moan, but she tells them, “I’m just giving her one.”
Lucia pokes out her scowling face. But then she sighs and dips her hand into her pocket, handing me something. “For Father Angelotti.”
I look down. It’s a sweaty Twizzler stick. Tawny hands me a fresh one from the packet, too, but they hoard the rest. I don’t blame them.
“Thank you.” I tuck the sweets in a pocket. “These will definitely be appreciated.”
She gives a diplomatic nod and then disappears again.
“See you when I get back, girls.” I smile tightly at Tawny. “Can you walk with me?”
Her hesitation is so fleeting I almost miss it, but she climbs to her feet and accompanies me outside.
We’re almost to her room when I ask, “Did you get a chance to ask them about Spain?”
This morning, while Cisco showered, I told the team what he saw inside Jasmine’s sin and how he thinks Hannah is involved. They reminded me that the demon prince Beelzebub is associated with flies and promised to double down on translations and research on him.
Tawny volunteered to hang with the orphans and fish for information.
She stops and fidgets. “I couldn’t get much, but I think it’s as Father said. They weren’t hiding behind a corpse for three days. Everyone turned on each other, not just the Vatican representatives. There were lots of flies.”
“Did they mention Hannah?”
“Only that she wasn’t fighting.”
“But she was there as it happened.”
She nods.
I glance through their room’s open door at the occult paraphernalia. Chalk lines, salt lines, blood, candles, bones.
“I’m worried about Raven,” I mumble.
Tawny exhales in a rush. “So it’s not just me?”
“I didn’t see her this morning.”
Tawny shakes her head. “She’s out. Like, off the estate.”
“Really?” I frown.
“She’s been . . . different lately.” She quickly adds, “I don’t mean demonic different like Jaz . . . or maybe Hannah.”
I nod at the door. “Are the occult rituals still happening?”
Tawny chews her lip and walks into the room, picks up a dried chicken bone, and twirls it. “She said it’s all for my protection.”
I follow her inside. It’s like a witch’s cauldron in here. Talismans hang from the ceiling. They’re everything from herbs, people made of sticks, and symbols.
“Do you think she’s the one who left all that shit in the crypt?” Tawny asks.
“I had the same thought. It looks like things we’ve seen in Wesley’s ancient arcane books.”
Then there’s the fact that the demon Asmodeus called Raven a bruja when we summoned him. It means “witch.”
“Whatever is going on with her,” I say, noticing nuns leaving Jasmine’s room with cleaning supplies. “It will have to wait until I get back. Keep an eye on her. Let me know if—”
“She’s possessed?”
A short laugh huffs from me. “She’s not possessed. We’d see it as we did with Prue.”
“But we didn’t with Jaz or Hannah.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?” She fidgets. “Because the same thing afflicts Father?”
“I don’t know.” I pat the hidden sword at my back. “But this means I’m the next fated Sinner, and I trust him, so that has to count for something.”
“So you admit it.” She gives me a coy look. “You want to—”
I slap my hand over her mouth. “Shut your pie hole.”
She laughs. I glower. Then I spin and head to our room to finish packing. Shit. I just called it our room.
“Mercy and Father sitting in a tree,” Tawny sings behind me.
“Stop calling him Father.”
“But he’s still a priest.”
For the love of God. I shake my head, enter the room, and collect the travel bag I packed this morning. When I return to the hallway, Tawny is disappearing into the orphan’s bedroom.
“We’ll all be okay,” I whisper, and then head down the stairs.
Cisco is waiting for the taxi outside the abbey. He’s not alone. Zeke, Dominic, Thea, Leila, and the Rev are there too. All in a heated discussion.
“What’s up?” I dump my bag on the porch with a thud.
Silence. Crickets. They all look at me with wide eyes.
“If this is about Raven’s chicken bones, can it wait until I get back?”
We’re only gone for a few days.
“Her what?” The Reverend Mother blanches.
“Chicken bones?” Wesley scratches his head.
“What are you talking about?” Leila asks, eyes narrowing.
“You know, the occult shit we found in the crypt last night.” I gesture in the direction of the church. “It’s the same as what’s in her room.”
“It is?” Thea’s eyes grow wide.
“I thought that was the psycho Sinners,” Zeke says. He grunts when Leila slaps him in the chest.
“They weren’t always like that.” Leila looks at Wes. “Wait, were they?” Then at Cisco, and raises her voice an octave. “Were they?”
A flash of yellow appears in the distance outside the estate gates. “Taxi’s here. Quick—tell me what I walked in on. What did I miss?”
Everyone starts talking at once. The Rev and Dominic both speak to Cisco. The others are in my face, and Wesley has papers in his fist. My gut sinks when I see the symbols and handwriting. New translations already.
I hold up my palm when they speak over each other. “One at a time.”
“Fuck.” Thea scrubs her face. “Okay, so I’m just going to say it.” She gets a constipated look and then turns to Wes. “I can’t say it.”
“I’ve got it, love.” He squeezes her shoulder and hands me the papers. “There have been new developments.” When I open the notes, he points at a verse. “That one in particular. Read it in the cab. Memorize it. Then throw it out.”
I gasp when he makes me fold the papers. “I wasn’t done.”
“Sorry, it’s just that . . .” He gets the same constipated expression that Thea still wears.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Leila shoves him out of the way and looks me in the eye. “It talks about Lilith again.” Pauses. “And you.” Another pause. “And the antichrist.”
Crunching gravel alerts us to the arrival of the cab. Two seconds later, the car door opens.
“I’m sure it’s all baloney.” I shove the notes into my pocket. “I think I’d know if I’m the mother of all demons reborn. I think you’d all know.” I glance at Cisco, who’s dropping his duffel bag into the taxi’s trunk, jaw clenched. Annoyed. “I think I’d know,” I repeat, turning back to the group.
“We agree,” Wesley says. “But . . .”
“Spit it out,” I say.
It’s Zeke who answers, and by answer, I mean lean toward me and mumble almost inaudibly, “Famine.”
I don’t have time for clarification. Cisco arrives, freshly shaven, pressed black clericals, and combed hair, but glowering.
“Andiamo,” he clips, jerking his head to the taxi and taking my bag.
“I hope that attitude isn’t directed at me,” I return.
“It’s not,” the Reverend Mother says, coming to my side. “They told him the news before you arrived.”
“Oh. Famine.” I nod, as if I understand what any of this means. The Rev launches into a list of side hustles and missions while I’m in Rome, particularly at the Vatican.
“I asked Father already,” she says, “but I also think you should try to sway the Cardinal to our cause.” She purses her lips. “I refuse to believe they were completely lying about the merger.”
“Um . . .” Wes starts, but the Rev shuts him down.
“I know you were told we’re heretics, but Mary’s Gospel proves we’re not.
It’s too late for them to stick their heads in the sand.
” Her fingers pick at the handle on her cane.
“And we need to get ahead of Spain. To make sure they know it’s not normal.
” She glances at the abbey building. “It’s not us. ”
“Do you really want to go legit?” I scrunch my nose. “And join them?”
“We don’t have a choice,” she counters. “We can’t beat them.”
“So we join them?”
“We will always walk to the beat of our own drum, but we’re still women of the Faith.
” She stares at the taxi, at Cisco. “We all believe in the same God. Besides—” She turns back to us.
“Isn’t legitimacy what you all want? No more Sinner missions?
We can build a better world for women without the killing. ”
She talked about legacy in the reliquary a few days ago, and I get what she’s saying. I didn’t just catalog history in that room. It was tragedy, distance, and loneliness.
There has to be a better way to live.
Banging on the taxi draws my attention. Cisco stands beside the open passenger door, glaring at us across the roof.
“I’m coming!” I shout and start walking. “Don’t stress your dress, Rev. You’ve got the best Sinner on the case.”
I give a finger wave over my shoulder and meet Cisco on his side of the cab.
“We’re late,” he grumbles.
“It’s fine.” I smile. “We have plenty of time before check-in.”
He huffs, but in a resigned kind of way, a calming way. He looks my disguise over, and the crease between his brows completely melts away. With a heavy sigh, he straightens the veil framing my face.
“I suppose,” he says quietly, “if you’re going to sin, then at least let me make you presentable.”
“We’ll be fine.” I poke him in the abdomen, wishing it were a kiss instead, and slide into the cab. “Trust me. I have everything under control.”
He gets in after me and closes the door. “I thought I did, too.”