Page 5 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

“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.”