Page 108 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

Hannah glances up from her book. “Maybe you should rest.”

“I’m fine,” she grits out.

Wesley touches her good shoulder. “Let me get it.”

The lovey-dovey eyes they give each other feel like nails in my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

He reads Thea’s notes and grins at her. “I think you’re right.”

“Care to share with the class?” I ask.

“The sword needs to be mended before it can cut the cords of deception.” He puts the note paper down and points to the line I remember reading this morning. I’d been more focused on the Saint devouring the Sinner part that I missed the link between an archangel’s flame cutting and this.

Wesley turns to Cisco, who is sitting quietly beside Dominic and Zeke. “And if the missing piece is in Rome, then that’s where Father Angelotti must go.”

“Why me?”

I’m surprised at the tone of disbelief in his voice. He knows the prophecy notes Wesley and Thea refer to. He read them before we entered the pool hall. Still, he acts like he doesn’t know. Maybe he’s in denial.

“You’re the Lamb who takes away sin,” I point out. “You’re the Saint.”

“The line about the judge,” Wesley adds. “Surely it’s you, mate.”

Dominic mutters something to Zeke, who glances at me, and then quickly looks away with a glower.

Beneath the table, I squeeze my thigh until the sting there is stronger than the one in my eyes.

“It’s you, Father.” My words are barely audible, but I know he hears because his jaw tightens, and now, he refuses to look at me.

He says to Jasmine, “Pick it up.”

“Pardon?”

“The sword.” He gestures. “Do it.”

“I don’t take orders from you, priest.”

His phone pings loudly with an incoming message. He drags his gaze from Jasmine to it, then to me. Waiting for permission.

I pick it up and type in the passcode, then the encryption code. The message isn’t what I expect, and once I’m done reading it, I flick back to read the multiple messages I missed today. Shit. Each escalates the warning from the previous one. My gut twists into knots when I read about the threat to Cisco’s family.

“What is it?” the Rev asks, but it’s not her I look to.

“Your friends want you back in Rome,” I tell Cisco, and slide the phone across to him. “And your uncle is up for parole.”

He sits as still as a statue, fists on his knees, expression blank.

“This could be a good thing,” Wesley says, voice pitched a little too high.

“How so?” Cisco snaps.

“It’s just … I mean—” Wesley glances at the sword.

“He means, Father,” Thea explains, “that if you’re in Rome on official business, it won’t look so suspicious if you bring a Sinner with you.”

“Especially if she’s dressed as a nun.” Raven nods, gesturing at the Rev’s robes. “The habit is great for hiding weapons. While you’re dealing with diplomacy, she can infiltrate the tombs and find the missing piece of the relic.”

An ugly, twisted, sick feeling wraps around my stomach and lungs. If Jasmine is the one the sword reacted to, then she’s the one Cisco needs to take.