Page 85 of The Sinner and the Scholar
“Citywide power outage,” I mumble.
The safe house is three floors high, but it entered our care in the eighteen hundreds and needs renovation.
The staff glows in my hand, and I smile. “I think it’s trying to help.”
“The relic?”
“Yeah, it seems to have a bit of a personality.”
“Fascinating.” He stares at it. “May I?”
I hesitate but hand it over. The instant he touches it, the light dims, and it looks like a regular wooden stick.
“I don’t think it likes me,” he jokes and hands it back. But before I accept it, I think we better test it.
“Can you feel anything weird about it?”
“It potentially gave me a splinter.”
I chuckle. “I mean, like mystical energy?”
He shakes his head and hands it back. “It’s not meant for me. You’re the special one.”
I scoff. “I’m just the one who connected with it first.”
“No, Thea.” His voice turns soft, his eyes serious as he continues. “You were meant to have it. I see that now. Everything in that gospel points to you five women. I think a part of me always knew, so I sent the other half to you instead of trying to find the relics myself.” His gaze turns distant. “Even my uncle knew our teams had to work together.”
We stare at each other in the gloom. I’m not even looking at the blood, wine, and mess on our clothes. I’m just looking at him. His perfect honey eyes, his messy hair, and his lips.
“We should probably look over the prophecy,” I mumble. “Now that we both know and compare notes.”
“Probably,” he agrees, although his gaze drops to my lips. “We should clean up.”
“I should give you the tour.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us moves. We’re frozen to the floorboards, staring at each other in the moonlight filtering through an old window. And then we’re both dropping our bags, the staff, and rushing to meet in the middle. He holds my head between his hands. I fist his shirt, tugging him down to me. Our lips meet in a bruising kiss. I could do this forever. Taste him. Feel his warmth. Thank God he’s alive. And then his hand slides down to my arm, and I hiss as he brushes a wound.
He breaks away with wide eyes.
“You’re injured.” He checks me over, notes all the scrapes and bruises, and berates himself. “Of course, you’re injured. You fought multiple foes. How stupid and bloody selfish of me. We should get you fixed up right now.”
He goes to leave, presumably to find a first aid kit, but I tug him back and kiss him again. His tongue swipes in, and gives me a passionate lick, but then he groans in frustration.
“Thea… you’re hurt.”
“All I need is this,” I murmur.
“Can you heal yourself with the relic?”
“I’ll be fine.” I chase his mouth with my lips.
“Thea, you’re injured.”
A scowl forms on my face. I step away so I can inspect myself. He’s right. Now that I see the wounds, I feel them more acutely. My ribs are bruised from when the demon crushed me with her tail. My knee bleeds from an open graze, and my arm has a shallow slice.
“I’ll try the relic,” I concede.
