Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

Maybe if she had more control over her visions … if she could find some way to use them to find the demons before someone died. But the only way Moira knew how to do that was through magic, and if she touched magic again, Fiona would be able to track her, whereas for now Moira was invisible to Fiona’s psychic eye. Worse, using magic would open Moira up to possession again. She recalled the last desperate moments with Peter, whom she’d loved so passionately. Who would she kill next time?

Rafe?

Her stomach flip-flopped and she involuntarily grabbed the door handle. When she realized she was gripping the vinyl so hard her knuckles were white, she let go. Rico was right. Fear was her worst enemy. It was going to get her killed.

Rafe broke the long silence. “Why did you let Rico take your blood?”

Moira hadn’t been expecting that question.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“He tied you down and took it against your will?”

“Shit, Rafe, you know how it is. Would you refuse an order?”

“He ordered you?”

She frowned, more than a little bit angry with this conversation. “So he wants my blood. It’s not like he’s going to drink it. Let him play his cloak-and-dagger games. It doesn’t hurt me.”

“And then you announce it to take a jab at Rico-which I admit was fun to watch-but maybe you should have told me in private so we could do something about it. He’s keeping far too many secrets that can get you hurt. Do you know why he took your blood?”

“I have some ideas, but I didn’t know I was supposed to give you a blow-by-blow of everything that happens in my life,” she snapped, knowing she was overreacting, but her heart was pounding and she didn’t know why. “It’s not like you’ve been eager to tell me more about these memories of yours.”

“It’s not the same thing, and you know it!”

“Yes, it is the same thing, because it has to do with trust.”

“So that’s why you didn’t tell me? Because you don’t trust me?” Rafe couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice, and that upset Moira, but she still wasn’t backing down.

“Rico took my blood because you cut my hand and stuffed it in the guts of that damn demon. He wants to know if my blood is ‘special.’” She said the word derogatorily. Of course it was special . She’d been conceived to serve the underworld. For all she knew, a demon was her father.

She dry-heaved.

“Moira-”

“Stop.” She put her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger-side window.

“I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Too late.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“This war is dangerous, Rafe.”

“Rico is using you.”

“Maybe that’s the only way to save my soul.”

“Don’t talk like that!” This was a futile conversation, but Rafe wouldn’t let it go. “Rico doesn’t care about anyone, only his cause.”

“His cause is my cause,” Moira said.

“Stopping Fiona is only one part of it, and you know that.”

“If you’re worried that I’m a pawn in Rico’s game, don’t be. I know what the stakes are. If I’m a pawn in anyone’s master plan, it’s the Big Guy upstairs, and you damn well know it. You, me, Anthony, all of us. All I can do is what I can do. Find Fiona. Stop her. Destroy the Conoscenza so no other magician can use it to summon the Seven Deadly Sins or whatever other evil purposes the book has.”

“And if you die?”

“We are all going to die someday. So what?”

“No!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, making Moira jump.

“This shouldn’t be a surprise to you, Rafe,” she said quietly. “You were raised knowing that you’d die a martyr.”

“I’m not going to let you die.”

“It’s not your call.”

“But it’s Rico’s?”

That Rafe sounded jealous was too simple. His emotions were more complex than simple jealousy, Moira realized, not that he had anyone to be jealous of . And Rico? They’d been arguing about something while she was getting ready this morning, but neither of them had raised his voice and she hadn’t been able to hear anything they said. Not for lack of trying.

“That’s the street,” Moira said, gesturing to the right.

He made the turn too fast, earning a foul gesture from an elderly woman walking four tiny dogs.

Rafe passed Velocity, which was two blocks off Wilshire Boulevard and only a couple of miles from the south entrance of UCLA. He then turned around and parked in a garage up the street from the club. All without speaking.

She glanced at him, confused and ticked off at his reaction and a little sheepish. She hadn’t wanted to give in to Rico’s demands this morning! But what choice did she have? While it was an odd and unnerving request, if there was something in her tainted blood that could help or hinder them in this battle, didn’t she owe it to them to give it up? Besides, Rico had trained her. He was essentially her commanding officer. And while she didn’t like to take orders from anyone, if she did, it would be from Rico.

“Fifteen dollars an hour?” Moira said, changing the subject as Rafe took a ticket from the machine. “It took us nearly forty minutes to get here-I swear, I don’t know how the people around here can stand all these other people-and now fifteen bucks to park?”

“This conversation is not over, Moira,” Rafe said through clenched teeth as he turned off the engine. He jumped out of the car and slammed his door shut.

Moira got out of her door and said, “That’s what you always say, but it’s done . Can we just do this?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. “You can’t die.”

The anger and fear on his face was surpassed only by raw pain. She wanted to pull away, to tell him to stop manhandling her, but she couldn’t. Rafe’s intensity unnerved her, had her at a loss and bordering panic. She didn’t want these feelings for Rafe, but they were growing.

“Rafe-”

He kissed her. This was no tame, sweet embrace; it was fierce. Moira froze, stunned by the depth of his emotion. Then Rafe’s hands reached for the back of her neck, holding tight, as if he feared she was going to bolt. And she wanted to; she wanted to run far away from Rafe’s feelings. From what he wanted from her. Emotions overwhelmed her, his and hers. Fear. Desire. A deep yearning for something intangible, a freedom neither of them had. Her stomach fluttered and she returned his kiss, mirroring Rafe’s passion with her own deep longing.

His body pressed against hers, pushing her against the truck. Her hands were on his shoulders, and her mind told her to push him away, that now was not the time to do this, she couldn’t think and she had to focus. The club. The demon. The men who’d died.

But she couldn’t think, Rafe’s need becoming her own, drawing out of her everything she’d been denying him, denying herself. From the minute she first laid eyes on him, unconscious, dressed in stolen medical scrubs, huddled in the corner of an abandoned cabin, she’d been irrevocably part of him as he was of her, far more than two demon hunters trying to undo the damage her witch of a mother had done.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as his mouth dove deeper into hers, his tongue mimicking lovemaking, and every cell in her body warmed to the brink of combustion.

Moira let the heat flow within her, Rafe’s hard, athletic body pressed firmly against hers, his leg maneuvering between hers, the friction making her shudder and cling to him. Her mind was mush, her body did all the thinking for her, and its thoughts were focused on one thing: getting naked with Rafe.