Page 51 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

“Wesley,” Raven snaps, punching the bed. “Here. Now.”

“I’m not a bloody dog.” He huffs and shuffles over.

“Good boy,” she coos.

He begrudgingly sits.

I kneel at his feet and hold out my hands, palm up. “Your wrists.”

He squares his jaw. “What are you doing now?”

“Lie detector.”

“Oh.” And just like that, he gives me his hands. “Right-oh. Ask away.”

I press my fingers over his pulse points, a little miffed that he acquiesced so easily.

Tawny stands at my shoulder. Raven leans into Wesley’s side, breathing in his personal space until he flicks her an awkward glance.

“Don’t mind me,” she purrs. “I’m checking your aura.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do many things, scholar.”

“Wesley.” I bring his focus back to me. “Tell me what you know of the Vatican’s plans for the Hildegard Sisterhood.”

“You know what I know. The official mission was to investigate you lot, gain your trust, and assess for a demonic infestation. Apart from that, it was to take over the heretical organization and to send all worthy relics back to Rome for safekeeping.” He clears his throat. “And yes, they wanted you gone. But … not dead. As far as I know.”

His pulse stays steady.

Raven takes his glasses and inspects them. “So, you’re basically assassins with better laundry service.”

“Oi.” He tries to snatch them, but I hold him steady by the wrists. “Give them back.”

“Answer the question.”

“No, we’re not assassins.” He scowls. “Not for humans, anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!” His lip twitches. “Unless you count spreadsheets as weapons.”

We girls deadpan.

“Do you?” Tawny leans in close, and I want to laugh because her expression is serious.

“Um. No?”

Raven gets up, kicks the desk chair closer, and straddles it backward, arms crossed over the backrest to face him.

“I don’t buy that’s all you know,” she declares. “The priest is Entity. You said it yourself. You also didn’t even know he was a spy, while simultaneously working under another superior from their secret boys’ club. Seems they’re playing multiple angles. Seems they’re hiding something big. Something you might be afraid to say, knowing what they do to traitors.”

The chair creaks as she leans closer to him, unblinking, staring.

Wesley’s Adam’s apple bobs. “To be honest, I’m shit scared of what they’ll do to me for stealing Mary’s Gospel. You know that.”

“Okay,” she counters, “then tell us something we don’t know.”