Page 27 of Saint, Sorrow, Sinner
“What’s in this stuff?”
“Herbs, aloe, milk, magic.”
Magic.The concept still shook her. “Doyou trust her?”
Bishop met her eyes. “Tehlor? Depends on the day.”
“Juniper.”
They chewed their cheek and leaned forward, whispering an incantation against sore skin. Spanish fluttered from them, quick-tongued and raspy, until they rounded their lips and exhaled. Magic, power, sacrifice—a trio of uncanniness she couldn’t parse. She didn’t know if they were cousins or enemies, if magic came from power, if sacrifice was the cause or effect of either or both, but she closed her eyes and allowed Bishop’s warmth to pass through the burn and sink into her body. As her flesh knitted together, she chased their ethereal strength and heard the mindful click of their tongue. She cracked her eyes open, met with gold flaring outward from their pupils.
“I learn lessons the hard way.” They placed their finger on her jaw, pushing left, then right. “And after my last one, I swore off trusting anyone for a while. Colin fucked that up,” they mumbled, smiling sheepishly. They nodded, pleased with their work, and dropped their hand. “But if I were you, I’d trust her.”
“Ifyouwereme?That’s a real ass-backward way to sayno,” she said.
At that, Bishop laughed. It came from their belly, strong and surprising. “Fine, I’ll rephrase. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust anyone. Which you don’t—I can tell. But if you weregoingto trust anyone, I’d let it be her.”
“And your priest,” she said.
Bishop’s smile split into a grin. “And my priest.”
Tehlor’s delighted voice shook the house, flitting from the adjoining room. “You’re a banshee now, huh?”
Bishop lifted an eyebrow. The metallic flash dancing behind their lashes flickered out.Banshee,they mouthed, silently asking for clarification. Sophia shrugged and gave a curt nod.I don’t know,she wanted to say. Vessel, banshee, betrayer, defiler. She’d been called a lot ofthings recently, but before that, she’d always been Sophia. Pretty, but not as beautiful as her sister, and holy, but not as clean as she could be, and obedient, but not as submissive as she should’ve been. She’d kissed boys after choir and snuck glances at girls in the locker room. Saidyes ma’amandno sirandpleaseandthank you.Offered blessings to newcomers who wandered into Haven. Prayed like someone listened. Flinched at the sound of too-bright lights and held food in her mouth for years before swallowing. Banshee was new, but she’d always been something to someone. Fixable, controllable, irredeemable.
“Thank you,” she said to Bishop, and cleared her throat, stepping through the curtain. “I’m dying,” she corrected, trailing her hand along the back of the sofa. “Proximity to death made me somethin’ new, I guess.”
Colin inclined his head. “Someonemade you new.”
Sophia stiffened. His statement needled her.
“It’s late,” Lincoln said. He drained the rest of his beverage and lolled his head, granting Sophia a once-over. “You look tired.”
“Let’s rest, then.” Relief rang heavy in Juniper’s voice. “We’ll make a plan in the morning.”
When Tehlor turned toward Sophia, her rat did too. Gunnhild blinked. The witch blinked. They breathed at once. “Get some sleep, okay?”
Sophia nodded. She flicked her attention to Lincoln and tipped her chin. Her smile was stony and fraught, but he smiled back and there was forgiveness in that, somehow.You did what you had towritten in the quiet pass of two people suspended postmortem. He might’ve been the only one who understood that part of her. The shared experience of dying and returning. Coming back wrong.
As Sophia made for the stairs, Colin touched her shoulder. “Bishopmended you?”
“They did, yeah,” she said.
He smiled faintly. “I ... I’m sorry. For earlier, the séance,” he said, clipped. “I meant to protect you—Itriedto protect you. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” And it was the truth. Even in the dark, faced with her sister’s corpse, she’d heard him calling for her. She’d heard them all. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Colin opened his mouth, but before he could continue, Bishop appeared beside him.
“C’mon, Colin. It’s been a long night,” they said, guiding him up the staircase. They shot Sophia an apologetic glance. “Good night.”
“Thank you for ...” She gestured loosely to her neck.
Bishop nodded over their shoulder, hand clutched in Colin’s palm, and said, “Anytime.”
Sophia waited for Colin and Bishop to reach the landing before she followed.
Juniper cleared her throat from the foyer. “Good night, Sophia.”
