Page 9 of The Sinner and the Scholar
My gaze tracks from her feet to her head. Like all the Sinners here, she’s beautiful. It’s as though the devil himself reached into his bag of tricks and pulled her out for one purpose only—to tempt and corrupt me. She has smooth brown skin and dark, luscious hair hastily tied at the nape. I’m sure her big eyes have made lesser men fall to their knees. Her dress is torn in places that tease her femininity. She has a bold look about her—something that’s so magnetic I have difficulty pulling away. It’s enough to make me wonder what she looks like clean.
Cisco clears his throat, returning my attention to his watchful gaze.
“Remember the plan,” he repeats.
Zeke and I share a look. Then I open the door.
Five
Thea
While Team Saint removes suitcases and trunks from their limousine, I am both underwhelmed and intrigued. I thought Saints would be scarier. More… holy? But they’re five ordinary men. One old priest, one younger priest, two in suits—one well-built and the other wearing spectacles—and a man wearing torn jeans and a well-loved Rolling Stones T-shirt.
These are our male equivalents. I screw up my face and glance at Mercy, expecting a similar reaction, but her eyes are full of heat as she twirls her coppery hair.
“Now,” she says huskily. “A man with lips like that has no business being a priest.”
“You better not be talking about the old timer,” Leila says.
“They’rebothordained!” I exclaim a little too loudly. Ew.
The men glance over.
Raven takes a puff of her cigarette. “When has that ever stopped her?”
Tawny snorts. Prudence scoffs. Mercy shrugs. Her robe falls another inch off her shoulder.Nipple.There it is. I roll my eyes.
“Ladies.” The Rev’s mumbled warning has zero effect. We all start talking over each other, trading teases and insults.
“Put your tits away,” Leila mumbles to Mercy.
“I just want to go back to bed.” Tawny yawns. “It’s too early.”
“Like you haven’t slept all morning?” Mercy scowls at her.
Tawny pokes out her tongue. “At least I know how to use the bed properly.”
“You know how to get lazy,” Leila adds. “That’s what you know.”
Tawny’s mouth widens to an O of shock. Push the sweetheart’s buttons, and the viper springs free. Tawny’s eyes flash, and she steps past me toward Leila.
To stop the coming fight, I point the severed hand and say, “I can’t believe none of you told me about Team Saint.” The hand accidentally slaps Tawny in the face, distracting her. She swats it and I almost drop it. “Seriously. Don’t ask me any favors.”
Raven pinches her nose. “Like what, don’t do our laundry in the same load as yours?”
“Maybe I’ll rub your face in it instead.” I step down with the hand poised to strike, but Prudence captures my wrist and shakes her head. Our eyes meet.Poker face,she used to tell me during training.Don’t let them see your cards.
I return to my position. The girls begrudgingly follow suit. We all make our expressions blank, much to the Rev’s relief. By the time the men walk up to the base of our steps, our tension is sufficiently released, and we can turn the smoldering remnants of our fury toward the five men without killing them. The… Saints? I’m still not understanding. They look like a ragtag circus.
The older priest struggles to move his frail body up the steps. The Rev stays put on the landing and looks down as she balances on her cane.
“Monsignor,” she greets. “Welcome to the Hildegard Sisterhood. I trust you and your men had a comfortable flight across the Atlantic.”
There is a bite to the Rev’s tone. So much so that we pause. Tension zings. I want to laugh but hold it in. Raven doesn’t.
“Roasted,” she snarks, flicking her cigarette butt. It arcs through the air and lands on a shiny designer loafer belonging to the handsome brown-skinned man in a tailored suit. Square jaw, hard eyes, shaved head. His nostrils flare as he glances at Raven, probably because she’s right. This isTeam Saint,and yet they arrived in an expensive limo. They probably flew First Class. He wears frickin’ Versace, for Christ’s sake, but damn, he makes it look good.
As he bends forward, I glimpse a crucifix branded on the back of his scalp. That had to hurt. A thin layer of shaved hair grows everywhere except that scar. His fist swallows the smoldering butt and shoves it deep into his pants pocket. Raven glares at him. He ignores her.
