Allison Brennan - Original Sin

From that drawer something magical pulsated with dark energy. She hesitated, then picked its lock. Sliding open the drawer, a wave of heat washed over her, brushing by her on a stench of evil. She shook involuntarily and barely resisted slamming the drawer shut.

Inside was an old wooden box as thick as a ream of paper, but half the size. Carved on the outside was a sigil similar-possibly identical-to the one under the altar in the main room. The wood was dark and aged, the corners worn and black. Two dark orange eyes looked in opposite directions yet seemed to look right at her-through her-like twin flames. She stifled a scream, as if the demon on the box were alive.

The box was locked and required a number code. Seven wheels-old and worn so dark she could barely make out the numbers-would need to be set exactly right to open it. She considered taking it, but as her hand neared the thing, every instinct inside her told her not to touch it. She wished Anthony were there. He’d know exactly what this was and how to handle it.

Instead, she took a picture of it with her cell phone and emailed it to Anthony with the message:

This scares me to death; I don’t want to touch it. Dark magic-the blackest-is coming off it in waves. But if you want me to grab it, I will .

She clicked Send , pocketed her phone, and turned her attention to the file cabinets. She was looking through the paper documents for property-where did Pennington really live? She’d bet her last dollar that he stayed with Fiona. Fiona liked her inner circle close.

Good Shepherd owned a lot of property, not only in Santa Louisa but all over the country. She wanted to grab everything but couldn’t carry it all, so focused on places in or around Santa Louisa.

Fiona would live somewhere private. Preferably near the ocean, but that wasn’t a requirement for her mother. Size-it had to be big. Opulent. Fiona liked to live well, and she was good at manipulating people into giving her things. Anything she wanted, including money. Moira wondered how wealthy Good Shepherd was-with three hundred church members, it was neither large nor small.

It took her several minutes, but she found three properties in Santa Louisa that seemed to fit Fiona’s criteria, at least on paper. Moira pulled up Google Earth on her iPhone and looked at the property images. The first was a Victorian house in downtown Santa Louisa. Large, on half an acre, but on a busy corner. The second was promising-in the mountains, in fact off the same road that led to Santa Louisa Mission. Fiona would appreciate that irony.

But when Moira pulled up the last property, she instantly knew this was the one. Just south of the county line, no one lived a mile in any direction. The highway was close, but no other residences were. Fiona could see the ocean, and the place had three separate buildings aside from the main house, which had six bedrooms and eight bathrooms. This was it.

If Fiona was there, so was Rafe. There had to be some way she could pinpoint where he was being held without sending out her own magical feelers.

“Use all your senses, but focus on feeling. You are empathic when you allow yourself to be,” Rico had told her more than once. “Drop the shields and feel the emotions. Search for the emotions.”

Rafe would be scared. Hurting. She could do it. She didn’t want to-she’d spent years building up her shields so she didn’t feel the emotions of others-but to save Rafe she would.

Just in case she was wrong, she grabbed the files for all three properties before leaving the room.

Back downstairs, she realized at once something was very wrong.

Magic, active magic, vibrated off the walls. Moira could practically see the energy building in the room. Where was it coming from? It wasn’t directed at her, and it was coming from all around. Coming into the building.

She was at the center of an energy vortex. Someone was drawing in the energy. This didn’t happen spontaneously.

But no one was here.

She listened, then discerned the voice chanting. Downstairs? There was a basement?

Moira searched for another door, but there wasn’t one inside the building. She pictured the alley next to the church. And there had been another door to the right of the church’s rear entrance. She should have checked it out, but she hadn’t planned on being here this long.

She ran outside. The door was closed but not locked. She said a prayer, along the lines of I hope you’re in a helpful mood, Big Guy, because this feels very bad right now .

Moira pulled open the door. Incense swirled around her as she silently stepped inside. Candlelight flickered down below.

From the top of the stairs, she recognized that this was a permanent ritual spot. Many spells had been cast here, most so black that fear nearly made Moira run. How could she, one person, fight such dark magic?

She hesitated, listened to the voices. Felt the magic around her. Most of the spells were old. Lingering, but harmless. She focused on the spell being cast now. The energy being drawn into this room, the energy she saw upstairs. The vortex.

Ari Blair .

Was Jared still with her? Among the shadows and candle flames Moira couldn’t clearly see what was happening down below. Then she heard a male voice chanting along with Ari. Jared . She didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed off or worried. Probably all three.

Ari was calling on a variety of names to aid her, using a mixture of Latin and English, common among amateur Wiccans. Moira listened to the words, and only a moment later realized what Ari was doing.

It was a reversal spell. Relatively simple and easy if a witch wanted to reverse a curse or illness, but trying to recall the Seven Deadly Sins? Ari was not only going to get herself killed, she was risking the release of more demons.

Moira rushed down the stairs. Ari and Jared knelt in a pentagram surrounded by a double circle, candles all around them.

“Stop!” she shouted.

Ari looked up from the chalice she was incanting over. Fear, then irritation, crossed the girl’s face. Jared saw Moira and sighed in relief.

Ari scowled. “You need to leave.” She tried to sound tough, but Moira heard the hesitation in her tone.

“You need to stop right now. Turn over the chalice and tell me exactly where those three altars are so I can destroy them.”

“No!” She glared at Moira. “They killed Chris!”

“One of the Seven Deadly Sins killed Chris, and one or more of them are going to kill or possess you if you don’t stop playing around with black magic.”

“I’m a white witch.”

Moira shook her head. “That’s what I used to think. Until a demon used me to kill my boyfriend.”

Ari sucked in a sob. “I didn’t kill Chris!”

“You might as well have. It was a demon from the cliffs who touched him.”

“But Chris wasn’t there.”

“You were, though you were safe in the protective circle. Everyone else in the world is in jeopardy.”

Ari was listening, and Moira was relieved. The magic was stagnant now, without the continuing ritual to build it up.

But Ari was unconvinced. “That’s why what I’m doing here is so important! I’m sending the demons back so they can’t hurt anyone else. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

Moira continued to walk forward. She stood on the outside of the circle. “I believe you. You don’t want to harm anyone.”

“Do no harm . That’s what we believe.”

“That’s what you believe. It’s noble. You didn’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t think you planned on releasing demons.”