Page 106 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

“If the curse returns to a single host,” Bianchi continues, gesturing to the story within the pages, “it will be too much for one soul to resist. Since the curse began, the descent into darkness was gradual. Over thousands of years! The angel always had a chance to sway the devil. But this time . . . with two souls’ worth of darkness, there’s a chance the single soul will be consumed by darkness immediately.”

He flips a page. Only one figure is left—the dark one. In his belly is a ball of swallowed light.

“Then I’d better hurry and stab her.” I raise the sword.

“You do not understand.” He shakes his head and puts a hand on my shoulder.

A coldness comes over me. “What did he do?”

The cardinal mumbles a prayer and looks to the heavens, but Bianchi makes the Sign of the Cross and looks in the direction of the osteria.

“Cisco’s family?” I choke out.

Faces flash in my mind, smiling and joking on the terrace. Enzo’s goofy smile. His sister teasing him. Nonna. Aunt Rosa’s hair. Uncle Vince. Marco. Elena.

Finally, Bianchi meets my eyes, and I see the truth glaring back at me.

Cisco killed them all.

“No.” My eyes water. “I refuse to believe there’s nothing left of him. I would know.” My voice breaks. “I would know.”

It feels as if I’m living in a dream, a nightmare. Nothing seems real.

Am I too late?

The instant I think it, I force it out. I’m not that person. I won’t stop fighting until the end.

Fingers flexing on the grip, I turn over options in my head. Should I go in blind? Lure them out? Enlist the cardinal and the exorcist to try a few spells? Or maybe I should go back to the prophecy.

“Before it was split into two portions, the Vatican translated Mary’s Gospel, didn’t they?” I ask them. When they nod, I look to Sharma and add, “There was a passage in there that we translated recently. Something about a Saint devouring a Sinner and Hunger. Do you recall it?”

“I can do better.” He pulls out a stack of folded letters, rifles through it, and then reveals one to me. “Is this it?”

“That’s it,” I mumble. “Thank you.”

That’s the passage we read at the airport.

To slay the starvation of the world,

The Saint must devour the Sinner.

But beware the feast of the righteous.

For every sin devoured to cleanse the world only fattens the beast within,

and so shall the Sinner and Saint become one and the Grievous Hunger shall ride forth . . .

At the time, we’d assumed Saint meant Cisco, and Sinner meant me, but now that I know the story behind the curse, it puts a different spin on it.

“Is it possible,” I ask Sharma, “that the words Sinner and Saint also translate to Devil and Angel?”

Mary’s language was slightly different from the ancient Latin. I remember Thea and Wesley’s frustration over the interpretation.

“Yes.” Sharma rubs his jaw. “If this has the same meaning, then⁠—”

“Then I just need to figure out which of the siblings was the original Devil and which was the Angel.” I pause, my pulse thundering in my ears. “And then I need to help the Angel devour the Devil.” My eyes drop to the final line. “Otherwise Famine will ride forth.”

If all else fails, then that’s what the sword is for.