Allison Brennan - Original Sin

Moira had thrown it all away. She’d walked away as if none of it mattered! And she wanted to deny them the right to infinite knowledge, to share in the wealth of the worlds.

Fiona hadn’t given Moira’s chosen position to Serena. She said she couldn’t, it wasn’t possible, but it was! It was possible! Serena had figured out how she could have everything that Moira had given up, as long as Moira was dead.

You’re not free, you’ll never be free, and I will kill you .

Moira sensed someone watching her as she stepped toward Jared’s truck. She stopped, discreetly slid the address book into her pocket, and listened.

A distant dog was barking; a closer dog responded with a higher-pitched yelp.

Distant voices. Movement. A door slamming shut.

Right here, right now, someone other than she was breathing.

Rico called it “mental muscle,” where instincts took over and the reaction to a threat came before conscious, coherent thought.

That mental muscle saved Moira’s life.

She hadn’t registered the movement when she faked right, then dove to the left, between two redwood trees, as a charge of energy hit the ground where she’d been. She fell into a somersault and jumped up ready, dagger in hand.

A strawberry blonde, taller than Moira. Slender. Willowy. Pale.

So familiar, the laugh a memory from the past. Of green and salt air and clover and lavender fields. Of tea and dark beer and freedom.

Of youth and innocence.

Of hope.

Moira shouldn’t have been surprised to see Serena-she’d already gone head-to-head with Fiona-but she was nonetheless startled by her sister’s presence.

“Serena.” She cleared her throat.

Serena grinned. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. You don’t scare me.” Not like Fiona.

Serena wrinkled her nose and said mockingly, “You should be scared. If I’d trapped you in a jail cell, you wouldn’t have lived.”

Moira’s heart nearly broke. She remembered Serena as a little girl, so sweet, so perfect. Moira had practically raised her during the years they lived in Kilrush before Moira knew about Fiona’s plans for her, before she realized that the magic she used hurt people.

But she hadn’t seen Serena since she’d escaped from her mother and found Father Philip. Serena had just turned thirteen when she helped Moira run away the last time.

Moira hadn’t forgiven herself for lying to Serena that day, but she had to-Serena wasn’t going to leave the coven. She was too needy, too attached. Moira had given her a chance, two days before she planned on leaving, a small test. Shared a “secret” to see whether Serena would tell Fiona. Serena had failed, revealing the false secret, and Moira accepted that her sister would never leave Fiona.

“It’s not too late for you to turn away from the coven. Leave Fiona.” Moira was buying time. She doubted Serena was of the mind-set right now to leave. If only Serena would listen and believe the consequences!

Serena shook her head. “You had everything. You could have walked between the worlds-”

“It was a fucking lie and you bought into it.”

“I’ve been there. It’s no lie.”

“End it now. Tell me where Rafe is and I’ll get him. Fiona won’t have to know you told me anything. We can stop this. Serena. The demons you released are killing people! You don’t have control, but you can help stop the insanity.”

“ We didn’t release the demons. Rafe did. He interfered. We would have had them under control and he loosed them. Now, we will get them back. You saw the message. We want her.”

“I’m not giving you Lily.”

“Yes you will.”

Moira watched her hands. There was something shimmering, shiny, almost seductive, that Serena was playing with in her palm. Moira felt energy building in the still air, the magic growing as Serena was silently working a spell. Her sister had indeed developed as Fiona wanted-into a strong, powerful magician.

Serena said, “Rafe has caused severe damage to our movement, and Fiona is punishing him. Because you stole our arca.”

Serena was trying to twist Moira’s heart and make her feel guilty. Moira forced herself to stay calm and put Rafe-and what Fiona was doing to him-out of her mind. “I don’t want to hurt you, Serena. Walk away now-”

Serena laughed, and her hands seemed to shimmer with a faint orange glow.

“You hurt me? You have no power. You gave up your power. But me?”

She turned her palms toward Moira. A bolt of energy, almost unseen, a sliver of brightness, came forth. Moira put up her dagger as a shield in reflex, but was too late. The energy hit her chest and Moira was thrown back ten feet, right on her ass.

Moira was stunned, but no more so than Serena, who seemed to be uncertain how she’d performed that magic.

Moira knew how Serena had done it. Her sister had somehow tapped into a stream of power from the underworld. An open gate … were the gates still open? Few witches could channel such energy directly from their body-they generally used crystals and rituals to generate that kind of charge. Serena had done it at will.

Serena put her hands up again, an odd smile on her face, but this time Moira was prepared. She held out her dagger and repelled the energy into the closest tree. Her addiction bubbled to the surface, the overwhelming desire to use her dormant magic returning. This morning in Skye’s house, she had felt it; it was stronger now, as if each small taste made her craving grow.

Serena glared at her. “I will kill you!”

Moira realized that it wasn’t a craving to use magic, it was a reflex. She remembered the pain of Fiona’s attack in the jail, how she had battled it internally, not with an exchange of magic. She’d survived. Maybe next time she wouldn’t, but there was hope for her without turning to supernatural forces.

She held her dagger as if it were her lifeline.

Serena laughed. “I’m not possessed. I’m not a demon. Your religious symbols and amulets don’t scare me.” She stepped forward. “You have to believe for them to work. You don’t.”

“I do!” Moira bit her tongue, furious with herself that she’d allowed Serena to goad her into defending herself.

“You don’t!” Serena’s palms went up and Moira turned the dagger to repel the energy shock, using the power of the relics and her internal hope.

The dagger burned in her hands and she cried out, but held tight as the sacred blade reflected the energy safely away.

Serena tried again, but whatever energy she had drawn in was extinguished. And worse for the witch, she was drained. Moira could see it in her stance, the way she swayed like a drunk, in her eyes, in her voice.

Moira said, “Walk away, Serena. Leave Fiona.”

“She needs me.” Her voice was small, almost childlike.

“All the more reason to run away while you can. She’ll weaken if you leave. I can stop her. You can’t let this go on! You can’t continue to play with human lives like we’re game pieces. We’re flesh-and-blood people, just like you.”

Serena attempted to gather more energy, but the attempt pained her, bringing her to her knees, and she struggled for breath.

“I loved you, Moira,” Serena whispered, and Moira remembered the little girl she’d raised when Fiona went off on her extended trips. So beautiful, so fair, so quiet, so smart. Sweetly Serena, Moira used to say.

“I love you, Serena.”

“Don’t talk of love! You don’t know anything!” Serena reached into her pocket and Moira raised her dagger.

Serena threw something small, a crystal smaller than a Ping-Pong ball, on the ground, while saying, “In the name of your master Baal, in the name of your master Baltach, I command thee Prziel to steal Andra Moira’s soul!”