Allison Brennan - Original Sin

“It doesn’t seem fair that we all are being punished for things we didn’t do,” Lily said.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Father agreed. “But we’re human beings, and our faith keeps us strong. Stronger than we think we are. We don’t always see the signs of God in action. We think He hates us, that He allows evil to prosper. Good people die. Bad people live. But truly, is God to blame? Are we not culpable because we are blind to His help and the help of others? Anthony, myself, Moira-we all belong to St. Michael’s Order.”

Anthony’s ears pricked. Moira part of the Order? Never had a woman, let alone a witch, been initiated. He would have known. Yet he’d never known Father to tell a lie. He was torn, not knowing which would be the greater error.

“In the Order,” Father Philip explained, “we are taught to see signs. To interpret them. If the Seven Deadly Sins remain free, humanity is in great jeopardy. But worse still, if Fiona’s coven gains control of them, she can target her enemies. The greatest threat to her power on earth is St. Michael’s Order. If we fail, there is no one stopping the reign of evil on earth until Jesus Christ comes again.”

“How can we-I-any of us-stop it?”

“By following the signs. And the first thing is to purify you so they can’t use you to store the Seven Deadly Sins. Anthony and I will do everything in our power to protect your life; and the first thing is to ensure your body cannot be used by the Seven. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Do you want to be baptized into the Catholic Church?”

She nodded. “Y-yes.”

Father Philip began the baptism rite. It was bare-bones, but included ancient traditions. He spoke the sacrament quickly, his hands steady on Lily’s head. He took a small chalice, removed the lid, and with a gold spoon took a teaspoon of salt and fed it to Lily.

The salt was for wisdom and to help prevent the corruption of sin. It was rarely used anymore in modern baptism, but St. Michael’s Order insisted. And in this context, with the pinnacles of sin freed in the Seven, even more appropriate.

“Lily, do you renounce Satan?”

“I do.”

“And all his works?”

“I do.”

“And all his pomps?”

“I do.”

A chill rushed through the room, but if Father felt it, he didn’t let on as he anointed Lily with sacred oil.

But Anthony felt it, and heard the voices that had been silent for weeks.

help us help us help us help us

The same voices he’d heard when he first arrived at the mission ten weeks ago, minutes after the murders. He hadn’t heard them since those first days, had hoped the souls of the dead priests had found peace, all the while fearing that they were still trapped somewhere between heaven and Hell, imprisoned by someone or something.

help us help us help us help us

Anthony stood perfectly still while Father finished asking Lily questions about her belief in the Holy Trinity.

She answered the last question affirmatively.

Father had poured holy water over her head with each of the last three questions, and when he was done, Anthony felt a slight tremor. Father felt it as well, and said to Anthony, “It’s good.”

Anthony didn’t want to argue with Father Philip, but he’d never experienced any physical reaction to a baptism, which was an internal cleansing of sin.

Father finished the baptism by handing Lily a candle and lighting it.

“Lily, go in peace and the Lord be with you. Amen.”

Lily was silently crying.

“Child, don’t cry,” Father said, holding her face in his hands.

“I can’t help it. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You are humble. Humility is a virtue. Lie down and rest. We have a long night ahead of us.”

She lay on the cot, and Father covered her with a blanket. He turned to Anthony and said, “She will sleep. Let us go to the office and you can tell me everything that has happened. And maybe, together, we can find the answers we need to reverse the evil Fiona O’Donnell has done.”

“First, Father, tell me where Rico is. Why can’t he be here? Why can’t he send someone?”

Father said solemnly, “The Seven Deadly Sins have disbursed. Only one remains in Santa Louisa. Rico and his people have trouble in every-how did he say it? — every hot spot in the world. We are on our own, yet they all depend on us to find answers and stop Fiona’s coven. If we can’t do those things, these battles will be our end. No one in the Order will be left standing.”

When Moira saw the flashing red and blue lights in her rearview mirror, she almost floored the accelerator. She hesitated just a moment too long with her decision, because the police cruiser flashed its brights and flipped the siren on and off twice in a piercing chirp! chirp!

Moira looked at the roof of the truck. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

She kept her hands on the steering wheel and stared in the side mirror as the deputy got out. Hank Santos.

“This is getting better and better.” She should have floored it. She’d had a chance.

More likely she would have gone off the road and killed herself. But instead of bliss in death, she’d probably be dragged down to the pit and be summoned by her mother so Fiona could torture her lost soul for the next decade. Fun.

She rolled down the window. She hoped she could talk her way out of this, because not only did she have a knife on her, she also had a gun on her. She couldn’t kill a cop, nor could she go back to jail.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Deputy Santos, right?” she smiled.

“Step out of the truck, please.”

“Sir, Jared loaned me his truck. I wasn’t speeding.” She honestly didn’t know whether she’d been speeding but thought it sounded good.

“I asked you to step out, Ms. O’Donnell.”

“Why did you pull me over?”

“If you don’t step out of the vehicle, I will forcibly remove you. Please step out.”

Moira slid out of the truck, feeling the same odd sensation she’d had when Santos came to her motel yesterday morning. She concentrated with all her senses, but he wasn’t possessed or under a spell. Still … something about him was off. She said, “You’re mad about yesterday morning. I tried to-”

“Keep your mouth shut, Ms. O’Donnell. You’ve manipulated my son, but this truck isn’t his to do with what he pleases. It’s mine. My name is on the registration, and I did not give you permission to drive it.”

“Fine. It’s yours. I’ll walk.”

“Your license, please.”

She bit her lip and pulled out her wallet. She showed him her driving permit from Sicily.

He glanced at it. “I need your international driving permit.”

“I don’t have one.” She’d been in and out of the United States for the last seven years, and getting an IDP was the last thing on her mind.

“This license is expired as well,” he said.

She wasn’t surprised. She’d had it for years. Other than her passport, renewing government documents wasn’t high on her list of priorities.

“I said I’d walk.”

“You’ve already broken several laws, Ms. O’Donnell. I’m going to ask you to come down to the station while we sort this out.”

“Deputy Santos, please, I really can’t.” She doubted begging would get her out of this mess, but she’d try anything at this point.

His face darkened. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but ever since you came to town you have been a thorn in my side.”

“What? I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You are coming between me and my son. He never lied to me before now. He ditched school today. I don’t know where he is, but I’ll bet you do.”