Page 116 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

“Mercy!” Cisco’s voice is breathless. “Are . . . you⁠—”

“I’m safe! I’m here, and I’m safe!”

He slumps a little more.

Something doesn’t feel right about this. I don’t know if I’m just nervous or we’re wrong. Where is Beelzebub? Why isn’t he gloating through this?

A quick check of my wounded shoulder reveals the bleeding has stopped. Relief and pride flood me at the thought that Hannah is trained well.

I grab the sword and stand, ready to do my part in this plan. Flames erupt along the blade, burning with a ferocity I’ve never felt before. The metal turns red, then heats until it glows and turns white through the flames. A buzzing, holy power fills me from head to toe, protecting me from the burn.

It’s then that Beelzebub decides to play his hand. He appears beside Cisco, whispers in his ear, and smirks at me with that stupid waxen, youthful face.

Whatever he says causes Cisco’s body to tense and straighten. Cisco looks my way but doesn’t see my face. He only has eyes for the sword. Blackness swallows the brown of his eyes, and he snarls, “You would deceive me?”

“W-What?” I blurt, eyes wide.

“You think you can weaken me just to kill me?” he roars, and the world roars with him.

All around me, the swarm intensifies. It darkens, swells, and speeds up. I raise the sword before me to shield myself from the pests, but he sees it as a threat. And then I feel a shift in the atmosphere beyond what eyes can see. Whatever was passing between Hannah and Cisco reverses. The swarm changes directions.

“No!” Hannah shrieks. “Cesco, no!”

She tries to crawl to him, but he’s already staggering to his feet. The ribbons of shadow pulse and undulate, just like they did that night with Jasmine in the crypt. He’s feeding from Hannah—taking the entirety of the curse into himself.

Fool, girl.

Beelzebub’s voice whirls around me, trapped in the storm.

You were never going to win.

My grip tightens on the sword with my resolve, and I feel it hum in response. Even if I use the sword on Hannah, Cisco’s already taken too much. It will achieve nothing. And since he’ll have no recovery time, the window of opportunity closes with every second he grows stronger, sucking Hannah’s life force, her sins, and the curse.

Eyes locked on Cisco’s heart—my target—I take a step toward him. Then another. And a third. I raise my sword a little with each step, inching closer to that safety spot to the side of his heart. If he’s too busy and overcome during his feed to notice me, I’ll have enough time to aim true.

But my luck runs out. Cisco’s eyes unnervingly slide my way, even as his face remains pointed in Hannah’s direction.

Caught.

“Forgive me, Father,” I whisper, and then throw my full body into the lunge.

Forty-One

Mercy

One minute I’m staring down the flames of an orange-and-gold blade, aiming for a black button mid Cisco’s chest. The next, I’m staring at Hannah’s wide brown eyes.

I try to pull my strike, but it’s too late. The heated blade meets her sternum and enters her body like butter.

“No!” I shriek, reflexively releasing the hilt.

It wobbles, embedded in her chest, purifying flames already licking outward from the puncture site. She glances down, then up and locks wide eyes with me. Her lips part as she tries to speak, but all that comes out is a mouthful of blood.

Behind her, Cisco roars. Suffocating power explodes in the atmosphere, a melding of divine and infernal, and then it’s gone.

The swarming storm cloud of flies dissipates. Blue sky filters in. Birds chirp, and the Piazza del Popolo is empty and all around us under the baking midday sun.

“Maria,” Cisco croaks. “Angelo mio, what have you done?”