Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

An astral projection of Julie Schroeder.

“It looks like Julie,” Johnston said.

“It’s a reflection or something,” Grant said. “Julie wasn’t there. We would have seen her. She couldn’t have been there.”

Johnston shrugged. “You’re probably right. But it’s weird.”

Moira wasn’t going to explain it to them. They wouldn’t believe her, for one thing, but the realization that Julie Schroeder had left her body and projected herself at the scene of Nadine’s breakdown changed everything. Dammit, Moira had known that Julie was lying about something! Why did this deception surprise her?

She said, “I don’t know what you both are talking about, but I have places to go and people to see. So let’s get this over with.”

She still hadn’t figured out how she and Rafe were going to save Grant’s ass, but the one thing she did believe after her bizarre encounter with Julie this morning was that the witch really didn’t want her boyfriend to die. Maybe Julie thought that if she killed Nadine she could break the spell. But that made no sense-the demon had already left Nadine before she died. It was the departure of the demon that sent Nadine over the edge.

Maybe Julie hadn’t known the demon had jumped out of Nadine’s shell. Yet she had to have seen how Nadine was suffering, even if she’d been observing from the astral plane. Julie might not have been able to hear everything, but she’d have seen the physical violence Nadine had done to herself. Maybe she’d wanted to save her.

Or she was following Grant. To protect him, expecting that the demon would be going after him next.

One thing was clear: Moira couldn’t trust her. Worse, though, was that Moira had believed her when she said she didn’t want Grant to die. Normally, Moira was an expert at spotting the lies. Was Julie playing both sides? Trying to save Grant Nelson while turning Moira over to Fiona?

“Let’s go to the interview room,” Grant said.

“Here’s fine. Nothing formal. I’m helping you . You obviously watched the video-you have Nadine’s confession and it’s clear we both tried to help her. You have the marks to prove it.” She pointed to the Band-Aid on his face. Then she gestured to the bruise on her cheek. “So do I.”

The plan Moira and Rafe had come up with on the drive over no longer seemed like all that hot an idea. Moira was going to suggest that she tag along with Grant while he finished his interviews, giving him her assessment of “the cult” while keeping an eye on him. Rafe was going to contact Anthony about the chalice and whether it could be used to trap the demon Lust, and if so, how they could keep that wench trapped.

“Take a seat,” Grant finally said, rubbing his temples.

“Headache?” Moira asked.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Grant scowled at his partner. “Stop it with that damn video. Either finish up the paperwork or listen.” He turned to Moira and Rafe.

“First,” Grant said, “I typed up the statement you gave yesterday. You’ll need to read and sign it.”

“Of course.”

“What I want to know is why did Nadine say to you, ‘I know you.’ Had you ever met her before yesterday?”

“No,” Moira said. She didn’t know why Nadine had said that, though it likely meant that Nadine-even within her possession-still remembered everything. Which means that she’d seen Moira in the alley. Demons could impart memories and information to their human victims, if they were powerful enough and had a reason. The demon Lust was certainly powerful enough, but why would it share anything with Nadine about Moira?

“You’re sure about that.”

“I’m not answering questions twice. Why did she tell you that she hated you?”

Grant just shook his head. “I’ll be the cop.”

“Fine.” Moira bit her thumbnail, pretending to be disinterested, but she watched Grant closely. She knew he had the mark on his back only because Julie had told her. She wanted to verify it, but she could hardly demand that he strip. And she remembered that when Deputy Hank Santos had been affected by Envy and unconsciously battling the demonic virus, he had a badass headache, as Grant Nelson obviously did now. Still, a killer migraine wasn’t proof positive of a demonic infection.

“Yesterday,” Grant said with a long sigh. “What happened in the alley?”

“I told you.”

“You lied to me. Sheriff McPherson promised that you’d tell me the truth. Dammit, I want the truth!”

“Can you handle the truth?” Moira asked. Rafe put a hand on her back and squeezed. She shrugged it off. She’d dealt with people like Grant Nelson before.

“Try me.”

“I saw Nadine kill Craig Monroe in the alley.”

Grant stared at her in disbelief. In a low voice he said, “You were a witness and didn’t come forward? Do you know that’s a crime? Accessory after the fact?”

“I wasn’t actually here Wednesday night. I saw her do it yesterday afternoon.”

“Don’t fuck with me, O’Donnell!” He slammed his palm on the desk.

“I’m kind of psychic,” she said. The psychic excuse sounded good, as most people would at least consider the possibility. Why people more readily believed in psychics than demons, Moira didn’t know.

“Psychic,” Grant said flatly.

“I saw his death imprint.”

Grant put his head in his hands. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

“You asked.”

“I should put you in jail, but I honestly don’t have the energy.”

“I can prove it.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nadine gave him oral sex. I’m sure they took some sort of sample or whatever it is they do. Since Nadine is dead, can’t you compare her DNA to whatever you found on Monroe’s body?”

Jeff Johnston coughed.

“Nadine could have told you,” Grant said.

“Right. I told you I never met her before yesterday on the sidewalk.”

“Of course you could be lying.”

“I’m trying to help you! I know Skye got a copy of the coroner’s report; you want me to call her? See if there was female DNA on Monroe’s dick?”

“That’s how you know. Sheriff McPherson told you.”

“Skye didn’t tell me shit. She left yesterday because she had to deal with a crisis back in Santa Louisa. I honestly don’t care if you believe me. You’re the one who wanted me to come down and play nice.”

Grant rubbed the back of his neck. “For the sake of argument, let’s say you are psychic and you saw Nadine kill Craig Monroe … how?”

“That I don’t know.” She ripped his soul from his body and ate it . “Her back was to me in the vision. But I know what she was wearing-a red dress. With a high neck but backless.”

Grant froze. He knew that dress; Moira saw it in his stunned expression.

Rafe whispered in Moira’s ear, “Anthony’s calling me back on my cell.”

She nodded. Rafe excused himself and walked down the hall.

“Where’s he going?” Johnston asked.

“Phone call,” Moira said. “We’re not under arrest; we can talk on the phone, right?”

“And how did you get hurt? You had a big welt on the back of your head.”

“What I saw caused me to faint,” Moira lied smoothly. “I hit my head. The bricks in that alley are uneven. And hard as a rock.”

Grant leaned forward. He had an expression on his face that Moira couldn’t read. It was almost … admiration. “Moira,” he said quietly, “you don’t impress me as a girl with a weak stomach. Fainting?” He shook his head.

She leaned back and stared at him tight-lipped.

“Okay,” he said, “you can leave. But stay in L.A. Until I know what’s going on at Velocity, I need you where I can find you. Because you’re lying to me, and it’s pissing me off.”