Page 45 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

Tawny offers another mug to Jasmine. “Here you go. With⁠—”

“I don’t want your sugar bombs,” Jaz snaps, shooing her away.

Tawny jumps back to avoid the mug being hit. Cocoa sloshes over the rim of the mug and drips down her fingers, hot and sticky. Normally, she would apologize, laugh it off, maybe lick the sugar, and declare it “gross but worth it.” Instead, she stares at her fingers.

“It took me ages to find marshmallows that haven’t lost their taste,” she murmurs. Tawny, the heart of our team, wipes her hand on her sleeve in a slow, mechanical way and then sits without another word.

We all poke fun at Tawny’s obsession with food, but it’s lighthearted. She knows it, just as I know when they make fun of me for my hypersexuality, they’re not calling me a slut. Not the way Jaz almost did.

I level my best boss-lady stare at Jasmine. “Apologize to your sister.”

“You’re not my mom,” Jaz fires back.

Jinx rises on Thea’s lap, frilly hackles up, scales catching the soft glow of the healing staff.

“If your pet bites me again,” Hannah warns, “I’m killing it.”

Thea gasps. “Don’t you dare⁠—”

Jinx launches across the table, tiny body arrow-straight at Jasmine … or is it, Hannah?

Jasmine’s fingers curl, and she slowly rises. Is she going to punch Jinx?

Right. That’s enough.

I meet Raven’s dark gaze across the table, and then we move in sync. It all happens in seconds. Raven’s behind Jasmine in a blur, yanking her ponytail down and forcing her into the chair. Her dagger flips once, and the point kisses the skin near Jasmine’s carotid.

“Jinx.” I whistle, shrill and sharp. “Come here.”

The little demon diverts and dashes toward me, leaping deftly over mugs and into my arms. I gather the scaly, warm body and hold tight. When she’s facing Jasmine again, Jinx lets out a strangled, warning growl that says, I’m watching you.

My skin prickles as I meet the eyes of the original four Sinners—Leila, Thea, Tawny, and Raven. Jasmine is a wild card. She was never this volatile before Spain. Lethal, private, and opinionated, yes. But most of us are. This feels off.

The Rev takes a calming sip of her hot cocoa, glances at Raven’s dagger, and says, “Perfect technique, as usual, Raven. Perhaps you might hold it a little longer.” She shifts her attention to Jasmine. “We wouldn’t want another accident tonight.”

I’ve always loved the Rev’s no-nonsense bullshit detector.

“Oh, no chance of that,” Raven drawls, twirling the blade. “I only slip intentionally.”

“This is … I can’t believe…” Flames virtually erupt on Jasmine’s cheeks. “Can you believe this, Hannah? What a welcoming party.”

Hannah simply stares at her.

“We don’t have all night, Jaz.” I cross to Thea and deposit Jinx in her lap. “I still have to find alternate sleeping arrangements.”

I let the words hang, evaluating her reaction as I return to my seat. Jasmine bristles, and her gaze slides to the Rev, looking for backup, but doesn’t get it.

“Start from the beginning, Jaz,” I add, voice flat. “And don’t leave out the parts that matter. Like, what the fuck is in that sack?”

We could get Hannah’s take first, but she seems the calmer one here. She was also clean upon arrival, which likely means she was too late to do anything to help Jasmine survive whatever went on at the Spain chapter. It’s best to get Jasmine’s raw, unfiltered story and to fact-check it later.

I gesture to Raven to stand down. She returns to her seat beside Jasmine but leaves her dagger resting on the table in her hand. Jasmine squares her shoulders and takes a single, shaky breath.

“I was at the Spain chapter, as you know.” Jasmine brushes her hair from her eyes. “Things were tense but under control. A couple of weeks ago, we received an anonymous tip to secure all relics⁠—”

“That anonymous tip was from Wesley,” Thea snaps.

Jasmine ignores her and continues. “So, we cataloged the relics and prepped them for extraction. Nothing new. Just protocol.” She swallows. “But then, a few days ago, we were attacked. Masked men, tactical gear, normal-looking mercenaries until we heard them scream at us in Latin and Italian: heretics, traitors, blasphemers. The Team Saint that was supposedly on our side conveniently disappeared. The soldiers went for the archives first. Wanted Mary’s gospel and any evidence supporting our cause. Didn’t care what got in their way.”