Allison Brennan - Carnal Sin

“It’s all the souls the demon stole!” Moira had to help Rafe. Tears streamed down her face as she knew exactly what he was facing, trying to keep his own soul intact as the spirits fought to get inside. Why had he done it? Why had he risked himself? The demon had been busy this week-or were these all the souls who’d died since it was released from Hell two weeks ago? How many had died that they didn’t know about?

Moira placed the base of the chalice in the baptismal font. The holy water steamed, and the chalice became so hot it burned Moira’s hands. At this rate, the water would dissipate in minutes! What else could she do?

She grabbed the small vial of holy water from her pocket. It was nearly gone. She poured it over the glass. It steamed, and the ground shook beneath her. She and Nina held on to the edge of the font to keep from falling over.

The lid wouldn’t fit over the font with the chalice inside. “Nina-go to the sanctuary and look for bottles of holy water.”

“How will I know?”

“Jackson said he put his supplies in there; he has to have some!”

The ground shaking, Nina did as Moira commanded.

Moira’s cut had started to clot. She squeezed her skin and drew out more blood, which she smeared on the top of the glass ball. The shaking stopped. She didn’t know what to believe, but right now she didn’t care-saving Rafe was the only thing that mattered. She’d figure everything else out later.

The spirits had beaten Rafe into a fetal ball. He was praying fervently, but Moira couldn’t hear him over a rumble she couldn’t identify.

She began her own exorcism and saw from the corner of her eye Jackson run into the church. “The doors are open,” he said.

“Help me!” she cried.

“What’s happening?”

“They’re souls trying to possess Rafe. Give them last rites.”

“I’m not-”

“Are you a man of God or not? What do you do when someone dies? Do it!”

Jackson raised his hands and began a prayer.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.”

Good enough , Moira thought as she stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Jackson asked.

“Keep praying, dammit!”

She feared opening her senses would give the souls a way to enter her body, but she needed to discern how many they were dealing with. As Jackson prayed, Rafe gained strength. He rose to his knees. She was about to step into the trap when he ordered, “Stand back, Moira!”

She hesitated, not wanting to obey, but she had to trust Rafe.

Rafe rose from the floor. He saw the souls moving around him, confused, suffering, none of them knowing where to go. None were pure, but many had color, some light, some dark. Some black as night.

“Dear Lord, help me help them,” he whispered in Aramaic.

The ground violently shook. Moira almost ran into the trap again, but Rafe couldn’t risk it, so he put up his hand to ward her off. She stumbled back as if hit, but he barely noticed. One by one, each soul spun away as he spoke, finally disappearing. He didn’t know where they were going, but they were gone from here. Rafe had opened a gateway to the astral plane, where all souls go on their way to Heaven or Hell.

Their passage through him to reach the astral plane weakened him. Pain tore at his mind, pain so great that he thought he would die. As they pushed through him, they deposited their shackles in his mind, leaving with him their last wish. He couldn’t do this. He was going to die. And still they came through him and departed, a never-ending line of souls searching for peace.

A crash sounded outside the trap, though it sounded far, far away. Rafe forced his eyes open, and through blurred vision saw that Wendy had knocked over the baptismal font. The chalice crashed to the ground, the glass ball splitting clean in half.

Moira ran toward the font. The demon rose from the broken glass.

“Moira!” Rafe cried out, sounding as though he were far down a tunnel.

Rafe flexed his mind-he couldn’t explain it any other way-and pushed every soul through to the astral plane. As he crawled from the spirit trap, he said the closing prayer, sealing the split between their world and the spirit world.

Jackson helped him up. “What the hell was that?”

Rafe shook his head and stumbled toward Moira as she righted the font.

The demon grew into a monstrous-sized creature. Wendy laughed hysterically as she crawled away, insane or in shock. The demon took its claws and picked her up, squeezing her body until Rafe heard her back break.

Nina rushed from the sanctuary with two bottles of holy water. She screamed at the sight of the huge demon that continued to grow.

Rafe ordered Jackson, “Grab the chalice! Melt it! I’ll distract the demon.”

Jackson didn’t argue. Rafe, still weak from his ordeal with the spirits, stumbled over to Moira’s side.

She stared at the creature. “What’s Plan B?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

“I didn’t know we had a Plan A,” Rafe countered. He took her arm; she was bleeding profusely. “You’re losing blood.”

“I might have cut too deep.”

“Dammit, Moira.” He ripped off his shirt and wrapped it around Moira’s arm.

“No-” she said, pulling the shirt off.

“I’m not letting you bleed to death!”

“We have a bigger problem here,” she said. She stared at his black shirt as her blood darkened the fabric. “Take the shirt-hit the demon with it.”

Rafe unwrapped the shirt, wet with Moira’s blood, and rushed the demon. Its claws reached for him, and he dodged.

Moira ran in the other direction to distract the creature. She shouted an exorcism and the demon laughed, a low, sick rumble that terrified Rafe. The demon Envy was bad; this demon seemed to have even more power. A thought dawned on him: all those souls-what if the Seven grew more powerful the longer they were on Earth? A pit formed in his stomach. If they got any stronger, they’d never defeat all of them.

He slapped the demon with the bloody shirt. It hit and the demon cried out as if shot, shrinking away from Rafe. He slapped it again and again. The demon bellowed and reached out for Jackson, who had picked up the chalice.

Nina grabbed one of the bottles of holy water, took off the cap, and threw it at the demon. The demon flinched, but it was enough time for Jackson to get into the sanctuary with the chalice, pulling Nina with him.

Hurry up, Pastor! Rafe rushed toward the demon, and it grabbed him with its huge hands.

“You will suffer, Raphael. You will know the truth and you will die forever!”

Moira watched in horror as Rafe was lifted off the ground by the demon, who’d grown to over twelve feet tall with snakes in its hair and black wings growing out of its back. Its clawlike hands were more like talons on a bird. It moved as if walking on air, the lower body still smoke, as if it couldn’t completely take shape. If this was its weakened state, they were as good as dead.

She ran to the two perfect halves of the glass ball. She picked them up and dropped them into the baptismal font. The demon flinched. This was its connection to the underworld. Wendy’s spell had bound it somehow to the chalice, and because it couldn’t fulfill its mission-Grant’s soul was still intact-it wasn’t completely free. Even though it had gained power, it was still tethered to the chalice.

Nina had dropped the other bottle of holy water. Moira grabbed it and poured the water into the font. The demon cried out and dropped Rafe.

Suddenly, the room became hot. So hot Moira felt her skin burn.

Rafe ran over and grabbed her. “Run!”