Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

“You are pathetic. From what your mother told me, you used to have power. Where is it, Moira? Where’s your magic? It’s there somewhere, weak, unused, but magic is in your blood. You can’t escape. Why don’t you find it? I would have more fun in a fair battle.”

Moira drew in a sharp breath, her lungs aching from having the wind knocked out of her repeatedly. “I can beat you without magic,” she whispered.

Nicole laughed. Not the half-insane hysterical laugh of her deranged sister, Wendy, but an I-have-a-secret laugh, low and full of humor.

The witch held up her hands and chanted a spell. Moira closed her eyes and used mental tricks Rico had taught her to battle the curse, repeating a Psalm in its original Hebrew. It must have been working, because Nicole stopped speaking. Moira slowly opened her eyes and was surprised that Nicole had knelt next to her, her asthame in hand.

Trapped, Moira was not going to let this bitch see her panic. She said, “You won’t kill me. You don’t have the courage.”

Nicole took the blade and broke the skin on Moira’s forearm, an inch long. Blood seeped quickly through the cut. Nicole grabbed her arm and squeezed. Moira bit back a cry as her arm exploded in pain. Nicole twisted her arm so Moira’s blood would drip into a small glass jar.

“Fucking bitch,” Moira ground out through clenched teeth.

“I already contacted Fiona. She’s waiting for you.”

Panic bubbled in her chest, but Moira forced it down and said, “Why doesn’t she come for me herself? Too scared?”

“I’ll tell her you said that.”

Her mother was the one person she feared more than anything. Even more than demons. Demons didn’t play around; they were just bad. They were, in fact, predictable, and could be dispatched with exorcism prayers that differed from witchcraft in one fundamental way: they didn’t ask for favors. Sure, demons were fearsome-and Moira didn’t enjoy battling them. But Moira would rather face down the demon Lust than her mother.

Because Fiona knew her greatest weakness. Fiona didn’t want to kill her. She wanted Moira to suffer for eternity.

Your fear will kill you .

Shut up! Moira wanted to strangle Rico for his pithy sayings and devout wisdom. Why shouldn’t she be afraid? Why shouldn’t she fear demons and her mother? Rico was a hunter; he’d never been hunted. Not the way she’d been. In life and in her nightmares, she’d been the prey. She’d died a thousand deaths in her mind, and still, she lived. She’d suffered the pain of others and still she survived. The mere mention of Fiona’s name, of what she was and what she’d done, was enough to grow panic in Moira’s soul.

When Fiona imprisoned her, she’d play with Moira because that’s what her mother enjoyed. But the best way to hurt Moira was to take what she loved. To kill that which made her feel human. To destroy the only thing that gave her hope for a future.

Rafe.

No!

She trusted that Rafe had a plan-though Lord knew she had no fucking idea what it was. She had to get out of here and get to the church before it was too late. She had far more important matters to concern herself with than when-or if-Nicole delivered her to Fiona.

She didn’t have her daggers. Wendy had stripped her of her jacket, with her other tools hidden inside. But she had her mind.

“So, Wendy left you to babysit me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nicole said smugly. “As soon as the demon takes Grant’s soul, she’ll take Wendy’s body -and her soul.”

“That’s your brilliant plan? Kill a cop, then your deal with the demon is to give her your sister?”

“Wendy thinks she and the demon have an understanding. She has no clue. Wendy will finally know what it feels like to be used and manipulated.”

“Poor little baby sister Nicole. Manipulated by Wendy, manipulated by Fiona, a fucking doormat for anyone and every-”

“Shut up, Moira. I know what you’re doing.”

“What? I’m half naked and you have me tied up in a spirit trap waiting for a demon to come get me and deliver me to Fiona. You think I’m manipulating you? Are you that pathetic?”

Moira continued to work at her binds and wished Nicole wasn’t so damn efficient with knots.

Nicole paced. “You don’t know me.”

“I know that you seduced Hank Santos to get information from the Sheriff’s Department and to keep an eye on Lily when her mother couldn’t. I know your mother was a bitch who killed two innocent people to get that damn chalice back. I-”

Nicole whipped around. “What? You-who-I knew it!”

“Knew that you’re a sociopath? No, that would be your sister. Hell, it runs in the entire Donovan family.”

“You’re still a witch. You hide it well.”

“No,” she said, “I’m not a witch; I don’t summon demons or cast spells. What I know comes from …” She looked pointedly at Nicole. “A higher authority.”

Nicole burst out in laughter. “Oh! Oh!” She couldn’t talk, hysterical that Moira would imply that God had something to do with her abilities.

At first, Moira was irritated at Nicole’s reaction-but then realized she could take advantage of Nicole’s funny bone. She wiggled around to sit up, her tied hands behind her. Tears ran down Nicole’s face, blurring her vision. Moira worked her binds frantically.

“That’s. So. Wrong.” Nicole giggled and wiped her eyes.

Moira was getting pissed. “Excuse me? You summon demons and you don’t believe in God?”

“Oh, I’m sure He’s around … somewhere . But like He cares? And even if He does, what does that matter to me? The power I get from my contacts down under, it more than makes up for anything that might happen because some distant God is oh so sad.”

Nicole stared at her, shaking her head, and added, “You can’t believe that anyone in the Heavens cares about you . After everything you’ve done.”

Moira inwardly grimaced, swallowing bile-filled guilt. She’d hurt so many people … how could anyone forgive her? How could anyone love her?

She closed her eyes and pictured Rafe, the man who had chiseled an opening into her hardened heart. The man who gave her the will to find a way to survive even after this battle was over. The man who gave her hope for tomorrow.

How could Rafe love her?

God has already forgiven you. But you haven’t forgiven yourself .

Moira’s eyes shot open. Father Philip’s voice as clear as a bell-but he wasn’t here. She’d heard him, but he wasn’t here! He’d died, because he’d come to Santa Louisa to save her, to give them all a chance at fighting the evil Fiona had unleashed. She would not let him down.

She worked her restraints.

Nicole sighed. “I see what you’re doing, Moira, and it’s not going to work.”

Nicole strode over to the spirit trap and reached down to tighten Moira’s binds.

Moira leaned back then kicked Nicole in the chest and jumped up, her balance off because her hands were still bound. She twisted her arms as she stumbled back, the ropes falling to the floor.

“I don’t want to kill you-”

Nicole ran toward her, an asthame in hand. The ceremonial dagger was sharp as Nicole had proven when she cut Moira’s arm. Moira pivoted, but the tip of the dagger nicked her shoulder.

Moira leapt out of the way and ran over to her jacket in the far corner. She didn’t have her daggers, but she had something up her sleeve-the devil’s cuff, a thin lead chain usually used to protect the possessed from hurting themselves during an exorcism. Moira could use it in other ways.

Nicole hesitated, then laughed again, though a little less forcefully. “You think that can hurt me?”