Page 25 of Saint, Sorrow, Sinner
“Great.”
“A banshee isn’t born,” she said, and walked toward the overlook. “She’s made.”
Banshee.Sophia flexed her toes, hands, legs, and recognized the effortless quiet encapsulating her mind. Ever since her explosion at the warehouse, the dead had gone silent. She trailed after Juniper, repeating the term to herself,banshee, and relived moments ago, gripping Juniper’s waist, racing through the city.I want to go back.She stood at the edge of the trail, counting glittering headlights instead of stars.I want to stay with you, like that.
“Removing the Breath of Judas will save your life, but it won’t undo the damage here.” She tapped her sternum, gesturing to her heart, then tapped her temple. “Or here. You understand that, right?”
Sophia curled her bandaged hand into a fist. Pain pulsed in the puncture on her palm.Yeah, I know.She stayed silent, though, spinning through the aftermath ofpowerandbansheeanddyingandlife.
Juniper looked out over the city too. “Everything evolves. You’re being spiritually attacked, so your spirit’s figuring out how to protectitself. Desperate times, desperate measures. Do you know what I mean when I say banshee?”
No.She shook her head.Sort of.
“A woman who makes death’s presence known.”
“Like Eve?” Sophia held her breath until her chest ached.
Juniper cocked her head.
“Before the serpent entered Eden, we knew nothing of sin. Nothing of death, or consequence, or mortality. Eve made death’s presence known,” Sophia said. She blinked at the horizon before turning to look at Juniper, fist still clenched, heart still hammering. “Our mother, defiler.” The last three syllables scraped her throat, stolen from Amy’s ghost.
“Maybe. But imagine being Adam, waking one morning to a bloody gash and a missing bone, remade to perfection,” Juniper said. “Father of all, defiled.”
Sophia pulled the jacket tighter around her. It was much too big, falling comfortably around her shoulders. “So, what, I can super-scream?”
Juniper laughed in her throat. “In time, you’ll probably track death from one place to the next. Sense patterns in cursed bloodlines, tap into the afterlife, communicate with spirits—”
“I don’t wantanyof that, like, none of it, I—”
“Evolution isn’t negotiable.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then pulled it shut.God, do you hear me? Are you listening?She met Juniper’s eyes. “Can you teach me?”
“Maybe. First, I need to exorcise the Breath of Judas and put it somewhere else. It won’t be simple, I’m afraid. But I might have an idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“I don’t like it. Colinreallywon’t like it.”
“I’m not Colin,” Sophia bit out. She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Tell me.”
“Judas is siphoning your life force to keep himself rooted inside you. That gateway, whatever fissure the Breath of Judas opened, is alive because it’s attached to a living vessel. Like I said, you’re haunted. But houses don’t have heartbeats.” Her mouth tightened. “The relic was planted in you during a death ritual, right?” When Sophia nodded, Juniper clucked her tongue. “Then I think you know where I’m going with this.”
Sophia’s jaw slackened. “You want to ... To kill me ...? You think—that’s your plan?” She sputtered out a laugh. Her eyes stung. “Kill meis the plan?”
“I said I didn’t like it,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, no shit.”
“If you leave your body like you did tonight, I can extract the Breath of Judas. But we need another vessel for the relic and you need a tether.”
“A tether?”
“Something to keep you here,” she clarified. “Faith, to be frank.”
“I have faith.”
“You have OCD,” Juniper deadpanned, too playful to be serious, too serious to be taken lightly. She flashed a grin and winked. “I’m kidding. But you will need a god or a saint—something to focus on, someone to count on.”
