Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

“How can you tell?”

“The strength, the power. It’s in her clothes, in everything she has.” She looked at the name on the locker. She blanched.

“Moira?”

“Donovan. It says Wendy Donovan. That can’t be a coincidence.” One of the witches in Fiona’s coven who escaped during the chaos when they trapped the demon Envy was Nicole Donovan. She had seduced a cop and had an in with the police. Information obtained by her had helped the coven elude police. Nicole had also recruited students from Santa Louisa High into the coven and had nearly killed Moira.

The door opened and Detective Nelson walked in with a stately, beautiful woman in her thirties. The woman glared at Moira. “She looks fine to me.”

“Wendy, I just need a place to talk to them and find out what happened in the alley.”

Moira knew that Wendy was the head witch, the high priestess, and this was her locker. Magical energy bubbled beneath the surface of the woman’s skin, ready to lash out, but she kept it under tight control.

Detective Nelson handed Moira a water bottle.

Wendy said, “First you come in here making accusations against me and then expect me to help you?”

“I explained I have to follow up on every lead.”

“Lead? You can’t think that the lawyer’s death had anything to do with the club. We’re already dealing with press issues because of what Kent did.”

“I’m not going to publicize this. You know me better than that.”

Wendy didn’t look happy, but Moira suspected it had more to do with her presence than with Nelson’s investigation. The negative energy coming from Wendy was aimed right at her. If she was a witch tied into black magic like Moira thought she was-and her sister was in fact Nicole Donovan-Wendy would know who she was, and who her mother was.

“Fine,” Wendy said, “but we open in forty-five minutes, and I need you gone.”

“Can we use your office?” Nelson asked.

“No,” she said and walked out.

Moira said, “Hostile, isn’t she?”

Nelson ignored her comment. “What were you doing in the alley?”

“We told you.”

“I’m not buying it. Did McPherson send you down?”

“The deaths of Mr. Monroe and Mr. Erickson are connected,” Moira said. “You saw the marks on their bodies.”

“The coroner found no evidence of homicide,” Nelson said.

“Then why are you still investigating?”

He hesitated. “Do you have evidence that proves the deaths were not natural?”

Neither Moira nor Rafe said anything. Detective Nelson looked tired and frustrated. Moira began to feel odd-the hair on her skin rose. She feared she was being watched, but when she surveyed the room there was nothing here. Yet … she trusted her instincts. Slowly she relaxed the internal barrier that protected her senses. She allowed herself to feel the magical energy building in the air.

“We might be able to help,” Moira said.

“You have evidence?” He sounded sarcastic.

Moira was taking a risk telling the outsider anything, but she didn’t know how else to bring him to their side. “Does Wendy Donovan have a sister named Nicole?”

The question surprised Nelson, and the answer was clear on his face even before he said yes.

“I knew it,” Moira said.

“Meaning?”

Rafe answered. “Nicole Donovan is wanted for questioning as a material witness in the murder of a priest two weeks ago.”

“Ask Sheriff McPherson,” Moira added.

Detective Nelson stood. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t tip them off!” Moira said.

He looked at her squarely. “I have no intention of doing any such thing, but I’m going to verify your accusation.”

As soon as he left, Moira said, “Do you feel something?”

“No-but I can tell you do.”

“I don’t know exactly what, but I think someone is in the process of casting a spell. It’s not a full ritual-too subtle-but it’s definitely here.”

Moira went back to Wendy Donovan’s locker. She picked the lock in five seconds and Rafe said, “What are you doing?”

“We’re leaving, but I need to know where I can find her.”

“We should call Skye, get her over here to straighten this out. I don’t want you going back to jail.”

Moira closed her eyes and said, “I think-it feels to me like the spell is aimed at Detective Nelson.” She looked at Rafe. “What if that’s what they’re doing? Trying to get him to put us in jail? Right where Fiona can get at me?”

Panic rose and she swallowed uneasily.

“Okay, let’s get out of here. He’s not going to be happy if we walk out but I don’t see another option.”

“Better we walk than if he finds our weapons.” She frowned, reaching into her pocket. “My-”

“I have your dagger.” Rafe slipped it from his pocket to her. She breathed in relief. “But he saw your gun. Didn’t say anything; maybe he thought you’re legal because you work with Skye.”

“He knows I’m not a cop. I’d rather take my chances out there than here. But I want to see what’s in the witch’s locker. Maybe she knows where Fiona is.”

She looked through all Wendy’s things. “No wallet, nothing! We need to find out where she lives. Maybe Nicole is there, hiding out-dammit, she needs to answer for what she did! How do we find her? Follow her when she gets off work?”

“We should talk to Jackson Moreno.”

Moira froze. She closed Wendy’s locker. Jackson Moreno-she had tried to forget about him and his family. She’d been so arrogant, so damn stupid back then. When she thought she could save everyone. When she thought everyone wanted to be saved.

“No,” she said emphatically. “We don’t need him. Besides, he won’t want to help me.”

“Jackson knows more about witches in Los Angeles than anyone else.”

“I know, but-”

“He has supplies; he’s supported St. Michael’s for years.”

“He’s not one of us.”

“Technically, neither are you!”

Moira bit the inside of her bottom lip. It was true, but she expected comments like that from Anthony, not from Rafe. It hurt, reminding her that she was still alone.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said immediately, his voice full of remorse. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s obvious you have issues with Moreno. But Father Philip trusted him. What about you? Do you not trust him?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that,” she said softly. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, and there’re some people I don’t want to see again. But you’re right-Jackson will know everything there is to know about Wendy Donovan, or know where to get the information.” She held up a small book.

“What’s that?”

“Wendy’s spell book. It seems to be notes and ideas, not her primary grimoire . But it might help us figure out exactly what she’s up to and how it connects to this demon.”

She suddenly jumped, her neck ice-cold.

“What’s wrong?”

“We have to leave now. Detective Nelson is returning. I can’t go back to jail, Rafe.”

“I’m not letting anyone take you anywhere.” He grabbed her hand and they ran out the back door.

Rico stepped into the sanctuary of Olivet, but he didn’t feel the relief he normally experienced when he arrived at the place he called home in the foothills outside Missoula. They were close enough to the city that winter posed only an inconvenience, while many other places in Montana were completely cut off.

Olivet itself was a virtual fortress, with four connected L-shaped buildings surrounding a courtyard that blossomed breathtakingly in the spring and summer. When Moira had first arrived at Olivet, for her original assessment six years ago, she’d come in May, and the only time he’d seen peace cross her face was when she walked through the lush gardens in the courtyard.