Page 95 of The Sinner and the Scholar
She shoves me into the group home’s courtyard and then leaves. I hug Mr. Snuggles tightly and look over his fluffy bear head to inspect my new home. The slate courtyard has high walls, a few straggly trees in pots, and a lingering sense of hopelessness. Three boys and one girl kick around a ball, taking turns to play piggy in the middle. Right now, the piggy is a boy with a limp. They’re all older than me—big kids.
Hugging Mr. Snuggles, I shuffle forward. Maybe these will be different than the others. Maybe they won’t care about the fires.
A red-haired boy notices me first. “Oh, what do we have here?”
“Fresh meat,” says another.
Before I know it, I’m the new piggy, and they’re using Mr. Snuggles as the ball. Tears streak down my face as I jump to intercept, but it’s useless. I’m eight, and they must be twelve or older—all lifers, all too wretched to find a forever home. Compared to them, I’m weak. But I don’t let it stop me. I snarl, hiss, scratch, and kick shins until one of them grabs my arms and holds me, preparing me for punishment. I buck and struggle.
“Hey!”
Everyone looks to the entrance. Another big kid is there. He’s scarier than the others. Dark floppy hair, angry eyes, fists clenched and ready to fight. He stalks toward us, and I almost pee my pants. But he doesn’t come at me. He shoves the redhead hard enough he falls on his ass.
“You wanna pick on someone, Puck? I’m your huckleberry.”
My eyes widen as a brawl starts. They all jump on the newcomer, but he’s tougher and stronger. They eventually scatter, limping away with black eyes and swollen lips. The new guy stoops to pick up Mr. Snuggles and wipes a bleeding cut on his chin with his shoulder so he doesn’t soil my toy when he dusts it off.
I startle when he hands Mr. Snuggles to me, then bare my teeth and hiss.
He laughs. “You’re a real wildcat, huh?”
Zeke’s knuckles go white on the railing. He faces me with a peaky complexion but says nothing.
I’m fucking done. If he wants to be a jerk about it, the least he can do is own up to it.
“Wh-what did you say?” he gapes.
“You heard me.” I jog down, passing him without another look.
“Wildcat?”
My heart clenches at his old nickname for me. It’s more ingrained into my soul than the old Tombstone movie references he spouted during our imaginary forays into the Wild West. He was always Doc Holliday, and I was a lot of people. Sometimes a damsel, sometimes a villain, but mostly Wyatt Earp.
None of it matters now except to serve as a warning—always guard your heart, especially from those closest to you. They have the most power to break it.
Thirty-One
Thea
Wesley and I head straight to the infirmary at the abbey. The flight here was fraught with tension and worry. We couldn’t relax, and it had nothing to do with Jinx scampering about the cabin, getting into mischief, and chewing on the leather. It also had nothing to do with the stolen artifact in my hands, and how we managed to sneak it on the jet and out of the country.
It's all to do with the things we’ve learned. Wes and I compared notes on the gospel, and my hunch about the blank pages was correct. He’d never seen some of the words written on them. So they’re new and meant only for us Sinners. It will take a long time before we can translate everything.
As we hurry through the corridors, I can’t help but notice how the abbey feels different. The air is different. The smells are different. Or maybe it’s just me who’s changed.
The relic warms in my hand as we cross the threshold to the infirmary. It must sense the demonic energy vibrating off the walls. Two steps in, I stop. Sunlight glaring from the window paints the scene of a horror movie.
In the corner, surrounded by Sinners and Saints, Prue isfloating. Straps anchor her bowed body to the bed. She thrashes, bucks, and throws something wet from her damp hair and face. Probably a mix of sweat and vomit from the stench amongst the disinfectant.
Everyone is here from both teams except the Monsignor.
Zeke suddenly blocks my path. The desperate look in his eyes freaks me out. I’ve never seen him so wild.
“It will work for more than one,” Wesley tells him. “Let her through.”
For a moment, I think Zeke will fight me for the relic, but Wesley steps around me with Jinx in his arms and whispers something to Zeke.
His face crumples in relief. I might even see tears in his eyes.
