Page 63 of Of Angels & Absolution

“I got the usual lecture,” he grumbles. He doesn’t have to tell me what it was about. I see the guilt and uneasiness in him, and I know it was the one about how he’s ruining his reputation, compromising his future, by associating with heathens like me and Angel. Saint isn’t a member of the Skulls, but some blood runs deeper than gang affiliation. He’s still our brother, and he always will be. I know that’s what he says to his father when the asshole lights into him about it. I know he defends us, fights for us, even when we’re not around.

At last, Angel comes in. He talks to his mom for a minute, and then she comes to the table with him and my drink. At last, we’re alone, Angel and I sitting across from Saint, waiting.

“I’m going to fuck Mercy.”

“What?” I snap, sure I heard him wrong. “Since when?”

The guy has been insisting she’s his sister since day one—and promising I would get to exact my revenge on her when the time came. She wasn’t his to take.

“Yesterday,” he says.

“I tongue-fucked her again the other day,” Angel admits. “Her pussy’s so fucking juicy. She tasted ready.”

“I’ve barely touched her,” I growl, glaring at Saint. “Because you told me she was your sister, and she was special, and no one was supposed to fuck with her until you said so. But I guess that rule doesn’t apply to Angel, who gets to play with her pussy whenever he feels like it. And apparently it doesn’t apply to you either.”

“I haven’t done it yet,” Saint says. “I went to ask if she wanted to come for Christmas, but the Master caught me going in. He thinks if I fuck her, we’ll be even or some shit.”

“So this is your thing now?” I demand. “You’re just going to fuck everyone’s sister, even your own?”

He flinches, rubbing his thumb against the side of his mug, and I know I shouldn’t have hit him there, but it’s true. He’s no more to blame for what happened than the other guys, or Mercy, or me. But he did fuck my sister. It seems only right that I fuck his.

“Better not even think about my sisters,” Angel says, his voice unusually fierce. Sometimes I forget he’s as dangerous as the rest of us. Usually, he’s such a teddy bear I forget he got his bones before me and most of his family.

“I’m not fucking your sisters,” Saint growls, glowering. “The Master ordered me to fuck M at our next ritual, so I’m going to. I’ll probably fuck her in the ass. I don’t want her pussy. If you do, it’s all yours, but I’d get it sooner rather than later if you want to bother with that shit, because if the Master tells meto take it, I’ll fuck that too. Not that it matters. It’s probably as trash as her ass.”

He drains his coffee, slams down the cup, swipes his coat, and storms out.

“That must have burned the fuck out of his throat,” Angel says, snagging the coffee and pouring himself a cup.

“I can’t believe Master chose him,” I mutter. “She’s supposed to bemine.”

“I can’t believe he’s going to do it,” Angel says. “Though maybe once he stops denying he wants to fuck his sister and gets it over with, he’ll stop being such a dick up our asses.”

“Fuck him,” I snap. “He doesn’t get to have everything and then act like a little bitch about it. He’s been promising I can fuck her first since she showed up.”

“Maybe he needs some dick uphisass,” Angel says. “Know anyone who could do him that favor?”

“Fuck you too,” I say, and I shove my hot cocoa away and stomp out of the diner. I can’t stomach the thought of all that sugar when I’m so pissed my guts are churning with it, a toxic cauldron of anger and resentment and rage. Saint’s already gone when I reach the parking lot, and I’m way too pissed to be with my family right now. Good thing I know exactly where to find the person who deserves to be on the receiving end of my fury.

I shoot Dad a text saying I’ll meet them at midnight mass, and then I hop in the Hilux and head that way. Ten minutes later, I swing open her door.

She sits bolt upright, clutching her blankets to her chin, her eyes wide with terror.Home Aloneis playing on her TV, and candles flicker around the room for light. Her room is warm and smells like toast and butter, an inviting scent that draws me through the door. I slam it behind me. Her dorm is empty. No one will hear it.

“Surprised to see me,lamb?” I ask, tossing an envelope onto her bed.

“What’s that?” Mercy asks, staring at it like it might be a bomb.

“Someone left you a note,” I say. “Why don’t you read it and see what it says?”

“It’s not from you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Why would I leave you a note when I can come in your room and see you any time I want,” I say, twirling my keychain around my finger. “That’s so much more fun, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing here?” she asks, muting the TV and then gripping her blankets like a shield again.

“You think that’s going to protect you?” I stride over and yank off her blankets. She lets out a little shriek and grabs for them, but I wrench them from her hands and drop them to the floor.

“What are you trying to hide?” I demand. “Were you fingering your cunt to a Christmas movie?”

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