Page 20 of Saint, Sorrow, Sinner
“Good,” Juniper said. She took a plate and handed it to Sophia, then passed another to Colin, Bishop, and so on. “Let’s eat.”
The group took turns spooning rice, meat, guacamole, and bread onto their plates and sat together at the table. With the leaf extended, there was just enough room for six. Sophia drizzled crema and homemade salsa verde over her ribs and dusted the rice in salt and pepper. She broke a piece of the loaf away and dunked it into broth and smashed avocado. Across from her, Colin made the sign of the cross and whisperedamen, and Bishop rolled up their sleeves. Pillar candles flickered in the center of the table, hollowing Tehlor’s cheekbones, and Lincoln hummed appreciatively as he tasted the sauce off his fingertip. Juniper hung her apron and took the seat beside Sophia.
“I’ve been on this planet for thirty-five years. All that time, and I thinkthisis the strangest dinner party I’ve ever hosted,” Juniper said. She propped her elbow on the table, cradling the bottom of her wineglass.
“Stranger than that ghost-hunting crew from Massachusetts?” Colin asked, pleasantly surprised.
“Oh, absolutely. They were exhausting, sure, but this is different.”
Tehlor drizzled salsa over her plate. “Bet TLC could make us famous.”
Lincoln scoffed. “We’re notthatmessy, c’mon.”
“Haven wanted that,” Sophia said. The table went silent. She bristled nervously, glancing around. “I mean, the television thing. Theywanted a camera crew, livestreamed prayer sessions, their own record label for worship music. All of it. That’s when it was safe, believe it or not. Back in Texas. Safer, I guess.” The comment came out of the blue.You’re disruptive.She tried to silence the voice, but it filled her skull, her own and someone else’s.Talking when no one wants to hear you. Blunt as a rock, girl. Dense as—“Sorry,” she blurted, and cleared her throat. “What’s unique about this one?”
“You’re allowed to talk about it.” Lincoln met her eyes. He shrugged, sipping his beer.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Tehlor said. She covered her mouth, speaking around half-chewed food. “But yeah, what makes us so weird, huh? Besides, like ...” She gestured between herself and Colin. “Ancestrally speaking, we’re enemies. And the whole”—she waved her fork between Bishop and Lincoln—“fucking their dead husband thing, but—”
“Jesus, Tehlor,” Bishop seethed.
“What?We’re all adults. Can we just, I don’t know, can we get over it? Can webeover it? Lincoln’s here, he’s back, you’re pissed, I get it. I’ll rub your feet, I’ll buy you a pizza, I’ll do your laundry for a month.” Next to her, sitting on the table nibbling carrots and chard, Gunnhild squeaked. “But I can’t put him back in the wall—” She slid her attention to Lincoln. “I mean, Icould—” Then back to Bishop. “But I won’t.”
“You two were married?” Sophia asked. She cocked her head, glancing between the brujo and the wolf-man.
Colin finished chewing and swallowed, flashing his hand. “It’s complicated, Sophia. I said the same thing a little while ago—”
“Seriously?” Bishop exclaimed, spitting sarcasm. Their fork clattered on the plate. “Nowyou?”
At that, Lincoln shook with laughter, muffling the sound with his palm.
Laughter hiccupped in Juniper’s mouth too. She giggled, clumsy and genuine, and Sophia laughed along, mostly at herself, at her heart for its sudden quickness, at her face for flaring hot again.
Juniper tapped her glass against Bishop’s bottle. “To patience,” she said, tempering the last bit of laughter. She reached, tapping the rest of their beverages. “And to family.” She clanked her glass against Sophia’s last. When their eyes met, Sophia thought the floor had fallen out from underneath her.So this is what it’s like,she thought.This is desire, this is infatuation, this is sin.“And to reawakening.”
Tehlor shouted, “Skål!” and everyone drank.
Chapter six
The séance took placeinthe parlor.
Freshly blackened wicks burned atop virgin pillar candles clasped in fanciful holders. Juniper dunked two fingers into a small bowl and touched the water to her forehead, muttering a blessing under her breath. Bishop stood behind her, leaning against the seam where the wall met the domed window, and Tehlor arranged wide-mouthed mason jars in a line across the floor. While the psychic prepared, Tehlor unsheathed a crescent-shaped blade with a pearly handle and held out her palm.
Lincoln frowned, cradling Gunnhild under his chin. “Use me.”
“I can bring her back—”
“Yeah, but still. Just use me.”
Tehlor huffed out a laugh and relented, snatching his free wrist. “Useus,” she corrected, and drove the blade into the heel of his palm. Lincoln winced but didn’t make a sound. Tehlor hissed, gritting out a curse before she brought her hand—marred with a wound identical to his—to her face. Red streaked from her brows to the baseof her throat.
Sophia couldn’t make out Tehlor’s whispered enchantment, but the witch’s eyes frosted over, and the air thinned. Lincoln held his hand above her, allowing blood to splatter the bridge of her nose, drip over her lips, and darken her hairline. Cold washed through the house, scented like sea spray and ash.
Colin placed his hand on Sophia’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
Do you?She swallowed uncomfortably, seated across from Juniper in an upholstered chair. The psychic slid the bowl to the far end of the round table and laid her arms flat, palms open. The medallion, etched with the image of her sacred saint, was paired with a garnet rosary. The crucifix dangling from the last bead was carved from obsidian, capturing candlelight like a firefly.
Sophia prayed. Nothing special. Nothing too desperate. But prayer all the same. She held scripture in her mind and thought of Galilee, a place of firsts and beginnings, where Christ might’ve walked, where ministry might’ve started.
