Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

“I can help you, Detective.”

“With this cult. Right.”

Moira fumed. “Yes, with this cult . I don’t really care if you believe me or not, but let’s look at the facts. Three men are dead. Kent Galion, Craig Monroe, and George Erickson. They all had the cult mark on their backs. Nadine confessed in front of dozens of people that she killed them. You’ll find her DNA on Monroe’s body, and you already found her prints all over Erickson’s bedroom. She obviously lost it yesterday and had a mental breakdown.”

“The way you say it, the case is over. Suspect dead. Case closed.”

Moira opened, then closed her mouth. That wasn’t what she wanted the detective to do, was it? Close the case?

But maybe that would be good. Get him out of the picture so she and Rafe could find the demon, trap it, and de facto, Grant Nelson would no longer be infected.

They had only one day. If the detective died, according to Julie Schroeder, the demon was supposed to head back to Hell. But if Rafe was right, if the demon fulfilled its obligation to Wendy’s coven, the psychic leash that bound it to the chalice-or to the coven-would break. Because they weren’t dealing with a succubus but Lust itself, who hadn’t arrived through the chalice, it couldn’t be used to send Lust to the underworld.

Moira bit her lower lip. How could she keep an eye on the detective at the same time she tracked the demon?

“I guess you’re right,” she said, acting dumbfounded. “Case over.”

“It’s done, as far as you’re concerned.” Grant rubbed the back of his neck again. “I have details that need answers, and I’m going to find them-which is why you’re staying in L.A.”

An attractive woman strode into the room, her eyes pinned on Grant. She wore tailored slacks and a blazer over her substantial hourglass figure. “Nelson, what is going on? I’ve been monitoring this case since I spoke to you yesterday morning and you didn’t tell me that you had a suspect and now she’s dead! Suicide?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I read the police report.”

“Those aren’t public.”

“I know.” She held up an employee badge. “It helps when you work for the Board of Supervisors.”

“Nina-please. I’m in the middle of an interview.”

“Is it about this case?”

“I can’t tell you. You put yourself in the middle of it when you told me you had an affair with the deceased.”

She angrily got in Grant’s face. “Dammit, Nelson! Don’t blow me off. Did you look at the files I gave you? The orgies? The occult rituals? There isn’t just one person responsible, and you know it.”

Moira’s interest piqued. She sat up. Grant shot her a look. “You can leave, Ms. O’Donnell.”

“I don’t think I want to now,” she said.

Nina looked her up and down, then extended her hand. “Nina Hardwick, attorney for the Board of Supervisors.”

Moira shook her hand, sensing the energy that made up Nina Hardwick’s invisible aura. She wasn’t a witch. And now she had an ally.

“I’d like to hear about the orgies and occult rituals,” Moira said.

“No! This is a police investigation,” Grant snapped, losing his temper.

“But you said the case was closed,” Moira snapped back.

“Closed?” Nina said. “You closed it?”

“No! I didn’t.”

“But you said-” Moira countered.

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Then you still need my help,” Moira said.

“The time I call in a psychic to help me in an investigation is when I turn in my resignation.”

Nina stared at Moira, eyes wide. “You’re psychic?”

Moira couldn’t tell whether she was skeptical or in awe. “Not exactly; I sometimes have visions of past and current events.” She wasn’t even lying with that statement. She liked Nina Hardwick. The woman was tough as nails and she irritated Grant Nelson. “What files?” she asked.

“Where are my files, Grant?” Nina asked. “I want to show this girl, Miss O’Donnell?”

“Moira.”

“They’re part of a police investigation,” Grant said.

“Ah-ha! So the case isn’t closed.”

Grant stood up. “That’s it, both of you out of here or I’m putting you in custody for interfering with a police investigation. Nina-stay out of it. You, O’Donnell-don’t leave L.A. until you hear from me.”

Nina was going to argue, but Moira quickly said, “Thank you, Detective Nelson. You have my number.” She gave Nina a sideways glance and the woman picked up on the hint.

Nina said to Grant, “You’d better tell me exactly what you find out about Pamela Erickson and this dead suspect or I swear, I’ll make your life hell.”

If he lives long enough , Moira thought.

Julie drove her sporty convertible to Wendy’s spacious house in the Hollywood Hills. She had never been so terrified in her life.

“Wendy doesn’t know,” she whispered to herself. She couldn’t know! Then why ask her to meet now?

Julie had done everything Wendy asked of her. She’d planted the hex bag. She’d lied to Moira O’Donnell because she wanted her on her side to save Grant, but the hex bag would let Julie find him anywhere-just like the one she’d planted on Nadine. She’d gotten Rachel Prince to drink the potion so the demon could possess her. She’d tracked Nadine when Wendy couldn’t reach her-how were they to know that the demon could release Nadine on its own? It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. Julie wondered whether Moira O’Donnell had done it. She didn’t believe for one minute that O’Donnell wasn’t a full-fledged practicing witch. If she wasn’t, why was she still alive? What she knew-what she could do with that knowledge-could damage covens across the globe. If she weren’t a powerful witch, she would have been killed.

Julie had done everything she’d been asked-everything except turn Grant over to the succubus-so why did she feel that Wendy was lying to her?

“We’re having a meeting at my house to discuss the problem of Moira O’Donnell and her boyfriend. Don’t be late.”

Julie was early. She parked in the driveway. Pam was already there. With Nadine dead, that left their coven with eight members. Nine was the perfect number; who was Wendy going to recruit? Julie didn’t see Nicole stepping up to take orders from her sister Wendy.

She took a deep breath and got out of her car. She walked around to the side of the house and down the outside stairs, to the bottom level. Glancing in through the window, she saw that the room was a mess, but there was a new circle cast on the main hardwood floor-not in front of the altar. She didn’t know how Cooper and O’Donnell had gotten out alive-other than by using magic. Moira O’Donnell had incredible powers. It was the only explanation.

Why had she denied it?

She opened the door. Wendy was on the far side of the room, with her sister Nicole and Pam Erickson.

“Julie,” Wendy said without turning. “I have someone for you to meet.”

Julie’s blood ran cold. She froze as her eyes fixed on the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, standing naked in the center of the spirit trap.

The stranger’s golden hair flowed down her back in waves of silk moving as if blown by a gentle breeze, though there were no windows or doors open in the room. Creamy, flawless skin encased graceful arms, shapely legs, and full, round breasts. Her bright eyes, as exquisite and sharp as two amethyst crystals, locked on Julie. Though she smiled, the chill in Julie’s veins settled deep in her bones.

As the strangely beautiful woman moved to the edge of the circle, Julie noticed a naked man lying on his back. His eyes were open, his contorted face frozen in shock. His penis stood straight up, impossibly long and engorged. But he didn’t move. Was he dead?