Page 93 of The Sinner and the Scholar
“I think I healed one of them. I remember having compassion for it. It just looked so sad! It didn’t burst into water but was thrown across the street. It must have healed into this, followed us to the car, and crawled in. Or it found our scent across London and came here.”
“That thing can track us?”
“Shh.” She scowls and hugs it to her. “You hurt his feelings and don’t call him a thing. What’s wrong with you? You love puppies.”
“It’s not a puppy,” I grumble.
“He needs a name.”
“Thea,” I warn, seeing where this is going.
“Hmm. You look like a Squishy. Or a Flynn because of your fins.”
“Thea, you can’t take a demon home.”
“Ex-demon,” she corrects. “Or maybe Jinx because you knocked over all the paint in the garage. Yeah, I see the red paw prints, buddy, and it’s how I knew to look under the car.”
“We have to go.” I open the car door.
“We can’t leave Jinx here. He’s my responsibility. I made him this.”
“You sure it’s a he?”
“Oh, shit.” She lifts the animal’s frilly tail and gasps. “It’s a girl!”
I toss my backpack onto the back seat, then look at her. She gives me big liquid eyes, just like the demon puppy. But she’s not wrong. She made it, and we can’t leave something like that running around the streets of London. And I did wish for a puppy with her.
Christ.
“I guess we can work out what it is at the abbey. Just don’t let the pilot see.”
She grins and jumps into the car, taking my spot in the passenger seat. “You can drive.”
“Really?” Yesterday she refused to let me get behind the wheel. “I see. I’m replaced already.”
She rubs the little critter on the belly and then coos as its long tongue lolls from its mouth.
“Impossible,” she says without looking up. “You’re irreplaceable.”
Thirty
Leila
Ifinish screwing the cylinder onto my revolver. I probably don’t need to clean it as often as I do, but it’s a habit that keeps my fingers and mind busy. It’s either that or becoming like Prue and working myself to exhaustion from exercising. With everything happening right now, I need routine more than ever, and the old gun can take it.
The smell of oil is strong in this tiny cell. I hope if my roommate returns early from her mission, the smell will encourage her to find another place to sleep.
I need my space.
I need…
My thoughts shift to the newcomers. To Zeke. I can’t believe he doesn’t recognize me. Or maybe I’m worth nothing to him. Fucking asshole.
He was my only friend at the group home for orphans, and then he made me think he was dead.
My alarm pings on my cell phone. It’s my turn to take watch by Prue’s bedside. It’s not a pretty sight. I want to help my colleague, but I was never really close to her. Not that I’m close with the others, but Prue and I never got along. She didn’t like my dry attitude. I wish I wasn’t this insensitive, but years of this sinning life have weighed on me.
Prue is old enough to know why I was brought to the abbey. She probably heard rumors of fires at my foster care homes—of no one adopting me because of things mysteriously burning around me. She put two-and-two together.
