Lessons in Sin

“—abruptly ended. No one seems to know why you traded your expensive ties for a priest’s collar nine years ago. But I can find out. I can learn all a man’s secrets when motivated. Don’t motivate me.”

My mind spun in the silence that followed. I imagined her arrogant expression as she stared down the impassive priest. If I did the math…

He was forty. Older than I thought. But young enough to be her child. Just another pawn in her self-aggrandizing quest for control. With any luck, he would say something to piss her off, and this would all work itself out on its own.

“I wonder,” he said, his voice rumbling like a distant storm, “what kind of woman threatens a man of the cloth.”

“A smart woman. I trust no one. Not even a priest with a squeaky-clean record.”

“If you’re suggesting—”

“I’m not. You agreed to my conditions. Don’t let her leave the property. No males in her room, including yourself. Don’t allow her in your private quarters, no matter how innocent the reason. Don’t bend any of the rules I put forth without speaking to me first, or I’ll shut down this school and make sure you disappear for good.”

A swallow stuck in my throat. Was she protecting me? My mother, a mama bear? I couldn’t believe it, but man, did I feel it. It warmed me to the marrow.

Until she added, “I don’t want a scandal, Magnus. It’s that simple.”

My stomach bottomed out, and my eyes closed, hot and achy.

This had nothing to do with me. It was just another one of her power trips.

“Her tuition is paid in full,” she said. “And I signed off on the terms of the endowment—”

The clamor of sound returned to the rafters, jerking me away from the door. Just as well. I’d heard enough.

Turning my attention upward, I tracked the cacophony of rustling, flapping movements. Something small flitted about in the darkness, flying with agitation, crashing into beams, and skidding along the apex of the ceiling.

A bird?

How did it get inside? Through an open door? Oh no, that meant it was trapped. Without food or water, it wouldn’t survive. Worse, it seemed injured, or disoriented, darting unsteadily in the shadows. Never landing. Never coming close enough to let me see it.

Shit. It hit the wall.

I inched forward, gasping as it bounced across the floor and came to a stop. What a strange-looking bird. It wobbled, using its folded wings like crutches, balancing itself, and…

Was that fur?

It took flight again, swooping awkwardly, almost drunkenly through the doorway at the end of the hall.

A bat.

What else could it be? And the poor thing was hurt. Probably starving to death.

I hurried after it without a plan. I just didn’t want it to get stuck somewhere and die. Bursting into the dark room, I flicked on the lights and paused.

Another classroom. Smaller desks. Lower ceilings. But the ambiance was the same, all dark woods and worn surfaces, aged with doom and gloom.

Like Father Magnus.

Why would a self-made billionaire become a priest?

Money didn’t buy happiness, but the almighty dollar sure as hell kept this school running. Five-figure tuitions and million-dollar endowments, all that glorious cash pouring in from wealthy families like mine.

So here was an elite school for rich girls whose parents sent them away to be babysat by a priest who practiced corporal punishment. Given what I’d just overheard, Father Magnus had a past. Was he a predator? Like a pedo who preyed on girls in Catholic school uniforms?

I shuddered, scrubbing my hands over my hair. Jesus, my thoughts had taken a grisly turn.

I was just here for the bat.

Moving on silent feet, I zigzagged around the rows of desks. Where had the little stinker gone? There were no sounds, no movement, not a single sign of it.

Then my gaze snagged on a life-size statue of a woman in robes. The Virgin Mary? I couldn’t see her face because it was covered by a trembling winged furball.

“There you are.”

Clinging by feet and forelimbs, the tiny brown bat hugged the statue’s head. I approached slowly, trying not to frighten it. A few paces away, my heart melted.

“Awww. You’re just a pup. Look at you, with your tiny mouse ears and baby snout. You’re lost, aren’t you? Where’s your mama?” I had no idea what to do, only that I needed to do something. Except… “You wouldn’t, by chance, have rabies?”

If I had my phone, I would look up the symptoms. Without it, all I knew was that rabies was one hundred percent fatal.

“Just to be safe, maybe don’t bite me, okay?”

The pup twisted its neck, fixing me with an alert, beady stare as it held on tight to the Virgin Mary’s face.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was already hurt. A cut sliced across its little head, probably from its dive-bomber maneuvers in the hallway. It didn’t look sick, but that didn’t mean I should touch it, which made for a tricky rescue.