Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

“Where did Cooper and Moira go?”

“To that nightclub, Velocity.”

Skye didn’t want to leave them in Los Angeles, but she didn’t see how she had a choice. She felt torn and hopeless. “I hope Rafe and Moira find something at the club; otherwise we’re at a dead end, and I need to get back to Santa Louisa right away.”

Velocity spanned half a block, from the corner to a narrow alley wide enough for one car. Opaque black glass, embedded with blue and green neon lighting that flowed in a minimalist version of ocean waves framed the exterior on two sides. It had the simple, understated elegance only achieved with a lot of money.

“You’re quiet,” Rafe said.

Moira didn’t address his unspoken question. She’d pushed their argument in the garage aside; she had to focus on her other senses, not the feelings between her and Rafe.

“I’ll bet they charge twenty bucks a drink,” Moira muttered. “And they probably don’t have Guinness on tap.”

“It doesn’t look open.”

Moira pulled out her phone and looked Velocity up. “Friday night, open from five until two. It’s only three. I don’t really want to hang around for the next couple hours.”

A woman walked out of the building, an oversized tote over her shoulder. She wore impossibly tall heels, but when she reached the corner, she slipped them off and put on Vans.

“So we know people are inside,” Rafe said.

“I can pretend I’m interviewing for a job.”

“I doubt they interview right before opening.”

“I can pretend I’m a health inspector.”

He just stared at her and shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about this. The demon can go anywhere it wants, right?”

“Pretty much, though they’re probably looking for easy marks.”

“So why here?”

She thought about it. “You’re right, you’d think the demon would want to spread its warm fuzzies. Why stay in one club? There’re probably a hundred of these places that appeal to the raging-hormone crowd.” Moira straightened. “Maybe-” She hesitated.

“What?”

“As far as we know, no one in Fiona’s coven was affected by the demons. Yet we know they were in contact with Envy’s victims.”

Rafe nodded. “The demons could be connected to them in some way. Following them around.”

“If Fiona figures this out, she’ll have a way to bring the Seven back together by reuniting her coven.”

“Not if we trap them first.”

She glanced over at the nightclub. “Maybe Fiona is here.”

“Moira-”

“I’m not planning anything stupid, Rafe. I just want to be prepared.” She switched subjects, because Rafe seemed to understand too much about what she was thinking. She didn’t want to lie to him about what she had planned when she found her mother. “Let’s check out the alley. Maybe I’ll sense a spell at work. Maybe that frat boy had a curse on him.”

“You think you can sense the magic even after two days?”

“Possibly. After being so close to Envy, I think I can pick up on residual energy, over and beyond the foul stench the demons leave behind.”

“Their scent doesn’t last long.”

“Probably not two days.”

They walked past the building toward the alleyway that ran parallel and several blocks south of Wilshire Boulevard. Moira relaxed, focused on the energy in the area. But Rafe’s close presence distracted her. She felt his emotions, and they were all directed toward her, even as he looked down the alley and assessed the area. His feelings were clogging her senses.

“Rafe, I need to go down there alone. You’re messing with my head.”

“Are you sure?”

She smiled, widely, hoping to alleviate Rafe’s worries. No luck, he still looked concerned.

“I’ll be right here.”

Moira walked slowly down the alley. It went all the way through to the street on the other side, but was narrow and didn’t look as if it was used for much of anything but servicing four dumpsters. A few unmarked doors on both sides of the alley suggested emergency or employee entrances.

Craig Monroe had been found with his pants around his ankles, with no outward sign of homicide. Had there been no demon’s mark on the college kid’s back, Moira wouldn’t even be here. It would have been a human crime, not a supernatural murder.

What drew the demon to Velocity? What made it stay? Why had it not spread the deadly rages of unrestrained lust far and wide? Perhaps it wasn’t as easy as simple contact. Moira realized there were far more complexities to these demons than any of them understood. What needed to happen before the demons affected someone? It had been more than two weeks since the Seven Deadly Sins had been released. Had the demon Lust been in Los Angeles since the beginning, or arrived more recently? Envy had managed to destroy many lives and families in two short days; why was Lust taking so much longer?

Moira moved farther down the alley. Though direct sunlight was nonexistent between the buildings and the stench of days-old garbage uncomfortably filled her olfactory senses, she’d nevertheless much rather be here than in the morgue watching some dead guy get cut open.

While the signs of police activity were gone-and there were no convenient chalk outlines like in the movies-Moira knew exactly where the body had been found. In the center of the alley between two dumpsters was a surprisingly clean square of stained cement. It had probably been picked clean by cops collecting evidence.

She leaned over, noting a faint stain on the gray brick wall, at approximately the height where a sitting body would rest. Her heart quickened when she considered it might be washed blood, but that was impossible. Craig Monroe hadn’t had a scratch on him.

Moira touched the wall. A wave of pain spiked down her nerve endings and sent her jumping back several feet.

An odd, unsettling sensation washed over her as the pain faded. She wanted to run far away, but if she didn’t figure out what was going on here in this alley, who else would? She slowed her breathing and concentrated, using her “Spidey Sense,” as Rico in a rare moment of humor dubbed her sharp instincts. Intuition, a sixth sense, whatever others might name it-she had it in spades, and she’d worked hard to learn to decipher her subconscious thoughts and feelings. But it didn’t come easily. And honestly, she didn’t like it. Opening her senses forced her to lower her guard, making her vulnerable and defenseless. But there was no other way to know for certain whether there had been demonic or magical energy in the area.

She reached into her jacket, her weapons now within easy reach.

Her peripheral vision darkened. The air cooled around her. A light breeze swept down the alley, rustling newspapers and food wrappers that had missed their designated receptacle. The sky overhead grew darker and lights came on at either end of the alley and over doorways, except for the one door marked VELOCITY EMPLOYEE ENTRANCE.

Lights … why were the lights on in the middle of the day?

It was no longer day, it was night. Moira froze, rooted in her spot, staring at the dark space between the dumpsters, and realized a young man stood there. Craig Monroe.

“Damn, but you’re hot,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m doing this here. I want to fuck your brains out.”

With shimmering brown hair that seemed to sparkle in the dim light, a voluptuous woman stepped forward and kissed him. Moira couldn’t see her face. She knew this was a vision-it had to be a vision; they couldn’t see her. But she was awake! It seemed so real. And it was more vivid than a vision, brighter. She smelled the alley, felt the chill, and saw everything sharply-too sharply, as if altered through a prism. She glanced around her, but everything was dark. All Moira saw were lights above doorways and deep, endless shadows.