Page 17 of Saint, Sorrow, Sinner
“Power isn’t pretty,” Tehlor said, toeing at the floor. “C’mon, get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the hall.”
Once Tehlor left, Sophia gazed out the window, watching birds cut across the sky. She’d tasted malice at the revival. Knew the weight of it like an axe in her hand. A part of her wanted to wield it again. But the rest of her, the larger, morally sound majority, wanted to bury the woman she’d became at the first taste of revenge. She scrubbed the thought away while she dressed, sliding her legs into starchy denim and tugging a terracotta long-sleeve over her head. She stopped by the bathroom to fix her hair and brush her teeth.
The Belle House leaned into wakefulness the same way a youngling did. Like a kitten or a fawn, the place seemed to stretch, warming as its occupants puttered about. After Sophia turned the bathroom light off, Tehlor extended her arm, allowing her to lead the way.
Sophia crossed the hall, descended the staircase, paused on the last step, and turned toward the back of the house. Last night had been a dream, hadn’t it? She caught the faint scent of decay—flowers, turning—and saw the yellow-gold rope tied around the curtains, cinching them shut. She remembered the sound—cards, flipping—and startled horribly when Tehlor touched her shoulder.
“Have you ever smoked before? Because a joint might help with”—Tehlor wiggled her fingers, flicking them down Sophia’s body—“all that.”
Sophia shot her an impatient glance, strode across the foyer into the parlor, and walked through the beaded curtain, joining the rest of the household in the kitchen. Bishop and Colin stood together next to the table where Lincoln sat, legs outstretched, arms folded. Juniper pawed through ingredients at the sink, uncapping a honey jar with one hand and grabbing a small wooden spoon with the other.
Juniper beckoned Sophia with a nod. “Honey is nature’s greatest healer,” she said, and opened her palm. Sophia stepped toward her and rested her knuckles on Juniper’s hand. The psychic dolloped honeyonto her damaged heart line, spreading the sweet, viscous syrup over the wound. “Who did you see last night?”
“What?”
“You saw someone. I did too. Who is she?” Juniper met her flighty gaze through long, painted lashes.
Sophia swallowed. “Kimberly, I think. She was Haven’s first holy mother. Rose picked her.”
“Yousawher?” Tehlor seethed.
Juniper flashed her free hand, silencing the witch. “The Breath of Judas is a tether between two realities. Using it opens a mutual pathway. You’re not controlling Kimberly anymore, but her corpse is still an unlocked door that something—or someone—could potentially crawl through.” She wrapped a white bandage around Sophia’s palm and yanked it tight, jostling her. “You’re haunted, remember?”
Sophia gave a curt nod. “And yousawher?”
“I saw you too,” she said, and arched a coarse brow. “Meddling is for mice, mija. No need to be a ghost in my home.”
Heat filled Sophia’s face.So it wasn’t a dream.She set her teeth and brought her freshly bandaged hand to her side. Like an insect, wings pinned, encased in glass and carefully displayed, Sophia De’voreaux had become a specimen. Something to be exhumed, studied, and pondered.
“How do we close whatever Haven opened?” Sophia asked.
Juniper tsked. “Youopened,” she corrected, and stepped around her, reaching for the kettle. She fixed a cup of sencha and handed it to Sophia. “I’d like to perform a séance.”
“A séance,”Tehlor deadpanned.
Colin cleared his throat. “June—”
Juniper raised her voice and continued. “To contact whatever is attempting to occupy the marionette Sophia possessed at this”—she waved her hand in the air—“revival.If I can locate the breakage and assess the damage, we might be able to find a solution. Allowing the spiritual fissure to go unchecked will only make our problem worse, no?”
“She’s a clown car full of ghosts,” Tehlor said, gesturing wildly at Sophia. “You really think an open forum is a good idea? I’m not sayin’ we shouldn’t, but it could be one hell of a night if we aren’t careful.”
“We’ll fortify the house,” Juniper assured. “We’re in a unique position. Five powerful practitioners sharing a common goal.”
“Megazord,” Tehlor said matter-of-factly.
Juniper’s lips curved. “Sure.”
“What’s our fail-safe?” Lincoln asked.
Everyone turned toward him.
The psychic paused. “¿Perdón?”
He glanced at Sophia. “What’s the plan if something goes wrong?”
Bishop’s knuckles paled around the lip of the counter. “Whatcouldgo wrong?”
“Given the situation? Anything,” Colin said.
