Page 129 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

“Me too.” I smile tightly and squeeze her thigh. “I think we all needed it.”

“I don’t think you needed those clothes, though.” Thea raises her brows at me.

“And shoes,” Leila adds and pays the cab driver. “Haven’t you done enough online shopping these days?”

I cough into my hand as I say, “Blasphemy.”

Tawny rolls her eyes at me. “That’s so cringe.”

Cringe? Thea, Leila, and I all raise our brows and then burst out laughing.

“What?” Tawny pouts. “What’s wrong with that word?”

The fifty-year-old male cab driver pipes up, “It’s okay. My grandchildren call me that too.”

I give her ponytail a fond tug. “Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with the orphans.”

We gather our overloaded shopping bags, get out of the taxi, and watch it leave.

The midsummer sun is in that gorgeous, “everything is golden” part of the late afternoon. It’s too beautiful to leave, so we stay outside for a moment longer, soaking up the atmosphere. I think a part of us also knows that after a day of self-care, reality is right through those double doors and it’s not looking so bright.

We watch the light change hues across the estate. Birds call across the mountains. Frogs croak. Water trickles, then splashes. Down by the lake, half hidden beneath a giant oak, a certain demon prince broods, tossing stones into the water and watching them sink. Noctis and Jinx sit quietly by his side, apparently moping too.

“Brooding must be contagious,” Leila remarks.

“What do you think his problem is today?” Thea asks.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Tawny huffs, spins on her heels, and stomps up the porch steps. After she enters the abbey, the door slams and Asmodeus’s head swivels our way.

He immediately clocks who stormed off and turns back to face the lake. I swear his shoulders have sagged further. A pang of compassion for him stabs my heart. We welcomed him to stay here after he saved not only mine and Cisco’s lives, but Tawny’s too—getting hurt himself in the process.

The wound he gained hasn’t healed. He refuses to let Thea use the staff on him, citing a butt-load of trauma over the last time it locked him in a stony prison for centuries. I’m not sure if the relic would help anyway. Something isn’t right with the world—with nature—since Raven left and Death arrived.

We kept expecting people to drop dead, birds to fall from the sky, or plants to shrivel up. But the weird thing is that everything has stayed the same. Literally. It’s like he hit pause on time and everything is in stasis.

The weather hasn’t changed. No new crops grow, but none die. Wounds won’t heal. Nothing is decaying. Nothing is growing either—except mine and Cisco’s hair, which is actually growing super fast. It’s unnatural, but we put that down to the relic being used before Beelzebub became the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse.

I gingerly touch the scarf covering my now three-inch hair. Part of today’s shopping expedition was to run reconnaissance on how widespread the supernatural stasis was. But I also really needed a spa day.

With a sigh, I turn and head inside. Thea and Leila are right behind me as we climb the stairs to the dormitories. We’re too tired to speak, or just soul weary, and split up into our individual rooms without a word.

The moment my hand locks on the doorknob, I hear movement inside and smile. Cisco must be waiting for me. I’ve been thinking about him all day too and can’t wait to see him, so I burst inside the room.

It’s not him.

“Mercy!” The three orphans all jump up from their spot crowded over my cot, all looking very guilty.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” Mathilde complains.

I glance around the room, even check inside the overflowing closet, and pick up one of my pink satin bras. “Pretty sure this is mine—ooh, look. Yes, this is Father’s.” I hold up a shoe. “So this is definitely where I’m supposed to be.” I give them a dubious look. “You three, however, are not supposed to be here.”

“She meant, yet,” Lucia corrects, then covers her mouth and talks sideways to me. “They are better at English but not best—yet.”

Mathilde sticks her tongue out in return because the secret sidebar hand gesture I showed Lucia does not hide the volume of the words. I bite back a smile and remind myself to teach them that little nuance again.

“I’m impressed, Lucia.” I scruff her mop of hair. Then I do it to the other girls for good measure, and because I love their giggles. “I’m actually impressed with the lot of you for keeping up your linguistics studies. But why are you in our room?”

I raise my brows and do my best to act like a disapproving adult by tapping my new Saint Laurent pump.