Page 61 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

His brows draw together. “As you say, same as you.”

“We are not the same.”

“I think maybe … yes.”

“You wouldn’t last a single hour in Hell.”

“I have lasted longer.”

She scoffs. “Three days?”

My gaze is ping-ponging between them, trying to catch up. Tawny looks as lost as me. I think Raven’s alluding to the three days Dominic was declared dead after rescuing the orphans from a fire in Romania.

Ghosts of pain echo in his eyes, and he finally looks away.

Oh shit.

Tawny and I glance at each other.

Was Dom in Hell?

No.

Surely not.

“So that’s the lie.” Raven steps back, disgusted. “You didn’t save children. You murdered them.”

“No,” he growls, eyes flashing. “I would never hurt bambini.”

“Then how do you explain ending up in Hell?” She cants her head. “Or is that a lie, too?”

Exasperated, he throws his hands up in the air. “I don’t know.” He makes the sign of the cross. “I tell the truth.” He falls into Italian. “But I came back, and I will do everything in my power to prove worthy of being saved.”

Raven flips her dagger. Once. And then goes still.

Sinner still.

Alarm bells go off in my head. I barely have time to launch across the space and grapple the weapon from her hand. She releases it easily. Too easily.

Because while I’m securing my grip on the hilt, she’s already using another weapon—her fist. A left hook strikes Dominic in the nose. Blood spurts onto Tawny, and she startles.

“Fight me!” Raven shrieks at Dom, slamming her knee into his groin.

He winces, eyes watering, but doesn’t retaliate. By the third hit, I take control of her. “Enough, Raven.”

She tries to wrestle from my grip, snarling and accidentally catching Tawny’s face in her crossfire.

“Enough!” I shout, but it’s too late.

Tawny stays hunched over, facing away, clutching her cheek. Chills skate up my spine when I see her free hand inch for her boot. It feels like I move through jelly as she brings her wild gaze back to Raven. I see the steel glint, but it’s not me who stops the dagger from entering Raven’s eyeball.

A big, powerful hand locks around Tawny’s wrist and halts her strike, the blade hovering millimeters from doing permanent damage. Dominic holds her as effortlessly as a giant would hold a feather. Normally, it takes hours of work to calm down a fight like this. An abbey full of girls encouraged to fight has gifted us with some doozies. But all Dom does is lean in and whisper something into Tawny’s ear, and she relaxes.

Blood-spattered blue eyes meet his.

“You are good, Tawny?” He nods. “Sì?”

“Sì.”