Allison Brennan - Original Sin

Skye’s face darkened. She reached where Anthony told her and extracted the knife. It was a dagger with a double-edged blade, in iron. The handle was gold, inlaid with the relics of saints. It had been Peter’s. She always carried it with her. She had little else from Peter.

“Any other weapons?” the sheriff asked angrily.

“Nothing that can hurt a human being,” Moria snapped. She glared at Anthony. He was trying to keep his face impassive, but he recognized the knife as well. The fury simmered inside him; she felt it rippling through his body. Moira almost didn’t blame him. She was angry with herself, too.

But she had never hated him more than she did right now. She couldn’t go to jail. If Fiona had failed, she’d try again. If she had Lily, she most certainly would restage the ritual as soon as physically possible-possibly as soon as tomorrow night. If she’d been successful, Moira had to undo the damage. How, she had no idea. But first, she needed to confirm exactly what happened here. If the Seven Deadly Sins were on earth, she had to figure out how to send them back to Hell and stop Fiona.

Skye searched Moira and pulled out salt, several vials of holy water, and a long, thin iron chain.

“A garrote?” Skye asked.

“A devil’s cuff.”

“Excuse me?”

Anthony explained. “A means of restraining a possessed human. It prevents the demon from escaping, and makes it easier to interrogate the beast without harm to the human.” He then added, “It doesn’t always work.”

Moira glared at him; Anthony stared her down. She bit back a sarcastic remark.

Skye looked torn. She asked Moira, “Why are you here?”

“I told you. I found the gateway and I had to stop her.”

“Who?”

Moira squirmed.

Anthony answered for her. “Fiona O’Donnell. Her mother.”

Two cars pulled up behind the sheriff’s truck. “That’s the crime scene team and coroner,” Skye said. She pocketed Moira’s passport. “I think it would be best if you came down to the station so we can talk, until I find Jared and Lily to corroborate your story.”

For a brief moment, Moira considered magic. She could find Fiona and hurt Anthony. Her urge to cause him pain for everything he’d said tonight and in the past scared her so deeply that her skin crawled and she felt physically ill.

Magic was evil, even if her purposes were noble. That Anthony had been able to even get her to consider it, just for that moment, pained her. She was worse than a drunk, worse than a drug addict. Magic was the greatest power, the greatest high on earth, and resulted in the steepest fall.

Anthony saw her internal battle and smiled cruelly.

“I knew you’d never change. I warned Peter, but he trusted you. Now he’s dead.”

She decked him.

Fiona strode through the secluded mansion on the outskirts of Santa Louisa, her footfalls echoing through the cavernous halls, a virtual electric storm in her wake. Serena had rarely seen her mother so furious. Though she’d been equally upset-and shocked-when Rafe Cooper walked into the middle of their ritual, she couldn’t help but feel a little gleeful that her mother’s lack of foresight had bit her in the ass.

“Why didn’t you know?” Fiona turned on Dr. Richard Bertrand when they reached the towering library in the back of the house. The property was owned by Good Shepherd Church, and Serena was usually amused knowing that the contributions to Pastor Garrett Pennington’s ostensibly Christian church were used to allow her and her mother to live in luxury.

“Richard!” Fiona shouted when he didn’t immediately answer her. She sent a pulse of energy toward the double doors, forcing them to slam shut, to emphasize her anger. Richard winced as if physically assaulted.

The doctor groveled. Typical, Serena thought. Few people had the backbone to stand up to Fiona. But Rafe had been his resposibility. Richard had ensured everyone that Rafe Cooper would never awaken. Richard would be lucky if he was alive at dawn.

“He shouldn’t have woken up,” Richard whined.

“Shouldn’t have? Richard, since when have you reduced yourself to ridiculous understatements?” Fiona turned to Serena. “And you were supposed to kill him months ago!”

Serena straightened her spine and kept her chin up. She wasn’t going to let her mother reinvent the past. “When Rafe Cooper went into the coma, you said he was more use to us alive than dead,” she retorted.

“He should have been dead that night!”

Fiona flung open the doors of her library with a flick of her wrist-a neat trick, but a parlor trick nonetheless. Serena had lived with her mother long enough to discern the difference between games and power. No doubt about it-Fiona controlled more otherworldly forces than any magician Serena had ever known, but she also enjoyed the bells and whistles that went along with power. There had been no need for half the games she’d played at the ruins. Had she forsaken the frills for expediency, they would have been done trapping the demons in the arca long before Rafe Cooper broke their circle.

Fiona whirled around and glared at her as if Serena had verbalized her criticisms. Her mother couldn’t read minds, but she had a sixth sense that had kept Serena in line. “When I find Raphael Cooper I will make him suffer,” Fiona said, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that she would torture and kill him with great pleasure.

“Serena, go! Check on the others. Make sure they understand the consequences of disobedience.”

“Mother, I think-”

Fiona stared at her daughter and raised her brow. “I didn’t ask you to think.” Serena knew better than to countermand Fiona’s orders, especially when others were present. When it was just the two of them, they often battled verbally, and sometimes with magic. Fiona always declared herself the victor.

But someday, Fiona would learn who had the real power in the family.

As she left the library, Serena whispered, “Your wish is my command.”

Fiona watched her daughter walk out, considering whether her sarcasm should be punished. But when Richard opened his mouth, Serena’s slight was forgotten.

“I don’t understand how Cooper could have walked out of the hospital,” Richard said, “not without help.”

“Of course he had help,” Fiona snapped. “I want to know if it was human or other.”

She paced the length of her expansive library, picking up the Conoscenza where Serena had placed it on the desk. She flipped pages rapidly, searching for answers. None came because she couldn’t read the damn book, only Serena could. Why was that? Why did her foolish daughter have the gift, and not she?

And how had Raphael Cooper known the language? Impossibly enough, he had saved the arca and cost Fiona her prize.

It was doubtful that Cooper even knew what he had done. She’d find him, put him in her own, special reverse devil’s trap, summoning spirits one by one to torture him. He would beg to die. He would kill himself and be dragged under, a special offering that would gain her much favor and more power.

After tonight, she needed it.

She almost threw the Conoscenza across the room, but as if the book itself lived, as if sensing her intent, the ancient text became hot. Fiona dropped it on the table.

She picked up another thick tome, Twilight , and threw it instead. Its spine cracked when it hit the wall and dropped to the floor. She grabbed another, and this time threw it at Richard. He ducked, but the book hit him in the head, and she smiled.

“How did Cooper awaken? Tonight of all nights?”

“I swear, Fiona, medea , I do not know! I did everything I could to keep him in sleep. When I left he was the same as always.”