Page 47 of The Sinner and the Scholar
The fewer people who know about this, the better.
Wesley stares indignantly. He’ll make a fuss if I don’t let him come. I size him up and run through all the ways I can take him down. Pressure to the carotid, a hit to the temple, or a simple nosebleed will keep him suitably occupied while I get out of here.
“I can take care of myself,” I say weakly.
“I know you can,” he replies, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m saying you don’t have to.”
His words hit me hard between the ribs. I want to trust him. I do. But there’s still so much about these men that we don’t know. Like, most of them had those arcane tattoos. They whispered amongst themselves just as we did. They lied about who spoke English.
But we’ve lied too.
And Wesley knows his stuff.
And that magic card business might come in handy. At the very least, it deserves to be explored.
And I skipped lessons, so I should probably learn more.
Those eyes. Those earnest eyes look at me like this is more than a necessity, more than an order from his superior. This iswanted.
But why?
I toy with the charm around my neck. “Fine. You can come.”
“Again,” he says a little too gruffly. “Wasn’t asking permission.”
“Someone’s grumpy.” He doesn’t respond, so I add, “Just don’t get in my way.”
He checks his pocket watch and says, “Let’s go.”
He walks ahead, and I pull a face at his back.
Mercy pops her head out of her door. “Enjoy the ride, babe.”
I nod and give her a salute. Then I force my shoulders to relax and follow the mantra—enjoy the ride because we all know where we’ll end up.
Seventeen
Wesley
We catch a cab to the nearest city. When I press Thea about her plan, she assures me she has it under control.
I can take care of myself,she’d said.
I bite my tongue because at least I’m here. The Vatican thinks they have Team Saint under their thumb, but the truth is, every single one of us is in it for personal reasons. If that means we align ourselves with the Sinners, and keep secrets from our benefactors, then so be it. Dismantling a rogue, evil organization isn’t so black and white anymore. Lines are blurring.
I check my pocket watch for the tenth time since getting in the cab. My uncle carried it everywhere, and then one day—the day of the summoning—I found it on a pile of papers, maps, and old books in his den. I remember thinking it was odd that he left it behind, and maybe it was broken and needed repairing. So I collected it, wanting to do something nice for him since he’d worked so hard to care for me.
But there—stuck beneath it was a note.
Dearest Wesley,
The hour and the minute hand look separate, but they work together. The cracks try to split them apart, but breaking them breaks the watch. Keep your hands working together. Keep the cracks closed.
I turn over the watch’s metal casing and read those last two lines. I still have no idea what they mean, only that it’s important. Despite thinking the watch was broken back then, it worked perfectly fine. There were no cracks in the glass.
I dart a glance at Thea, then back at the watch. A secret organization run by women is a threat to the Vatican. But I saw something different when news of their existence came through the channels a few years ago. I saw a link to an old, discredited prophecy written by a supposed whore—a repenting sinner. I saw an opportunity to save the life of a friend and, in doing so, keep the team together.
If they discover what I’ve done by bringing the lost gospel here, all hell will break loose. I’ve put a loaded gun in the Sisterhood’s hands. They will have the power to change how the church sees women forever… from allowing women into the priesthood and rewriting history. They could bring about the fall of the whole patriarchal Holy See.
