Allison Brennan - Original Sin

She closed the pantry door without making a sound, then moved through the room to the hall. Above, the shower still ran.

In the short hallway leading to the front of the house, there were two doors. To the right, and to the left, under the staircase. The floors creaked. Though Moira trod with exceptional care, if the water went off, Lily’s mother would surely hear the squeaky hardwood floors.

The door under the stairs was locked.

Moira took out her pick. This lock was newer, but she popped it quickly.

As soon as she opened the door, a potent aroma of powder-wormwood, blue cohosh, and something Moira couldn’t immediately identify-rushed into her senses. They were herbs used to create a dust to protect against maleficent spirits and opposing witches. To keep a person safe from possession, as well as compliant. Lily wouldn’t fight, scream, or try to escape. She’d be calm …

A tearful voice came from below. “Mama? Can I come out now?”

And terrified.

Moira crossed herself and whispered her own special prayer. “St. Michael, you’d better be watching my back this time, and don’t let any of our enemies stop me.” As an afterthought, she added, “Please.”

She walked down the wood steps. A wall was on one side; the other was open, without a railing. The stairs creaked worse than the floor above. The basement was damp and moldy.

“Lily,” she whispered in the pitch black. “It’s Moira.”

“Go! It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“It’s too late. My mother-”

“Tell me later. Move. Now.”

Lily shuffled over to her.

“Faster.”

Upstairs, the shower shut off.

Moira pushed the teenager ahead of her up the stairs, a faint light coming from the hall as the sun continued to rise and break through the early morning fog.

Lily stumbled, but Moira kept her moving forward. Lily didn’t know the meaning of the word quiet , but fortunately she was small and her movements reflected that. They rounded the corner and Moira knew that Elizabeth Ellis was standing on the second floor at the top of the stairs, listening. Lily’s mother was smelling the mixture of herbs that Moira had unintentionally released when she’d opened the basement door.

Moira pushed Lily into the kitchen.

Someone ran down the stairs.

Moira said to Lily, “Move it, now, out the door.”

“Hecate, Beliel, and Achiel …” Elizabeth Ellis began when she saw them.

Not about to let her finish the incantation, Moira whirled around and kicked Ellis in the stomach, almost surprising herself that her aim was dead accurate and Ellis was standing exactly where Moira had sensed. Her mental muscle had kicked in. Thanks, Rico!

Without hesitating, she kicked again. The white towel wrapped around Lily’s mother fell off. Moira almost laughed as she slammed the palm of her right hand in the woman’s face, pushing the naked woman to the floor.

Lily screamed.

“Run!” Moira commanded.

“You’ll never make it, bitch!” Elizabeth Ellis cried at Moira as she got to her feet. “I call all the spirits, seize-”

“Shut. Up!” Moira backhanded her twice. Her left shoulder throbbed and she began to bleed again. The warmth seeped through her bandage. Dammit , it hurt.

She knocked over the kitchen table on the way out, to impede the woman’s pursuit, then pushed Lily through both doors and outside.

Lily limped toward the street, but Moira shoved her in the other direction, into the backyard. “This way. Over the back fence.”

Lily obeyed, though she was hampered by the long, thin nightgown she wore. She shivered, but Moira couldn’t concern herself with the girl’s comfort.

“Faster!”

Moira cupped her hands for Lily to step in and she boosted the girl over the fence. Her arm ached and the bruises from her mother’s attack yesterday made her want to scream, but instead she bit her tongue.

The side door burst open.

Lily was over the fence and Moira grabbed hold of the top and pulled herself up, favoring her right arm. Elizabeth Ellis began an incantation that Moira knew well. Simple and effective.

Dogs all over the neighborhood began to bark. They barked because there was a demon.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Earthquake.”

The ground shook as an earth demon rose from the soil in front of her. It was generally harmless because the incantation itself was weak, summoning latent demons out of living, nonhuman organisms. But it would delay Moira-she couldn’t let the demon wander and hurt someone.

Lily stumbled and fell. Moira pulled her up and said, “Jared’s truck, around the corner! Now!”

Elizabeth Ellis wasn’t strong enough to summon a more powerful demon at will-the ritual would take either more time or more witches-but the command of environmental demons was an easier trick to learn. Moira longed to create a short bolt of lightning to zap her. The desire, deep and unbidden, unnerved her and she touched the medallion around her neck, the one that had been Peter’s.

She held out her hand and began a short rite of exorcism as the wavering demon came toward her. It was more of a sprite, not a lost soul, and though she intended to send it back into the ground, her powerful words twisted it instead, surprisingly turning the demon inside out before it disappeared.

“What the hell just happened?” Moira said.

Elizabeth Ellis had seen it too and stopped dead in her tracks. Moira, suddenly terrified by what she’d done-because she didn’t know exactly what she’d done-ran. She caught up with Lily before she reached the truck, and pushed the girl along.

To her credit, Lily no longer cried out, though she wore no shoes. In socks only, she ran over the rough concrete and gravel.

Move move move! Moira willed.

“Jared!” Lily suddenly exclaimed, panting.

“Just his truck. Get in.”

She obeyed, obviously disappointed. Moira started the vehicle and sped off. Only then did she glance in the rearview mirror. Elizabeth Ellis was more than a block down, no longer chasing them but still naked.

Moira grinned. “Victory is sweet, but sweeter when your opponent is butt-ass naked in defeat.”

Ari Blair woke up in her bedroom at 6:30 that morning shaking, her sheets wet with perspiration.

You’re dead. You’re dead. You’re dead . The chant repeated until the high school senior felt her head would explode, the dry monotone as disturbing as fingernails on a chalkboard.

She got up, stumbling from bed to bathroom as if she were hungover. She threw up and rested her clammy forehead on her arm.

Her life was over. She was eighteen, and this was the end of the line.

Slowly, she rose from the cold tile floor and stared at her sickly reflection in the mirror. Her skin was grossly pale, matching nearly white hair. She used to think she was so beautiful-tall, blond, and blue-eyed, the girl-next-door type. She had friends and a terrific boyfriend; she was popular . A cheerleader, a straight-A student, the student body president, perfect!

“I was accepted into Berkeley!” she told her mirror image.

Then Abby had brought her into the coven. It was everything she wanted. A secret society. It matched her New Age sensibilities, her need to elevate to a higher consciousness. She wasn’t going to follow her parents in their male-centric religion. She was smarter than that. She would make her own path, live her own life, wholesome and good. She believed in the Wiccan motto: Do no harm .

But Abby died! There were evil spirits, demons , and they wanted pain. She had felt it very clearly as she stood next to one of them; Ari could have reached over and touched the thing . It was there and not there, smoke and solid mass. It was not right.