Allison Brennan - Original Sin

“Fiona,” Serena exclaimed, eyes wide, “that’s the language of the Conoscenza!”

Fiona couldn’t think now of how Cooper knew the book, as the demons roared from their traps, shaking the foundation of her control. They could not be contained in the bowls forever, and with Cooper trying to reverse the ritual, she was losing them.

He continued to speak in the most ancient of languages and Serena murmured spells to counter him.

“Turn the bowls,” Fiona commanded her coven. “Release the Seven.”

Her followers stared at her, surprised. They were not allowed to question her.

“Do it! Or my wrath will be greater than any demon on earth! Turn the bowls and protect yourselves!”

The women turned the bowls that contained the demons and, while chanting protective spells, stepped into the inner circle. The demons roared, now free from the chains of Hell. They swirled within the trap, frenzied by their freedom. If the arca were here, the ritual would be near complete. The next step was for the arca to draw them inside herself.

If not for Raphael Cooper! He had sent her off, and now the demons had nowhere to go. Nowhere but freedom to roam the earth.

“You are to blame!” she pointed her finger at him. “You take responsibility for the deaths and souls the Seven will claim!”

She turned her face to the heavens and chanted, “Belial, Hecate, Sammael, and all the named and nameless fallen ones, I command thee to shield thy servants, protect the sanctified, and mark the one who thwarted my will!”

The demons broke through their traps, swirling within the double circle, faster and faster, a tornado of smoke and fire, as the Seven lost their growing physical forms and melded within each other, in and out, gaining strength and speed and volume as they rose like a column and surrounded the coven.

Cooper was brought to his knees by a screeching tumult of such intensity that it vibrated within the circle. All dropped to the ground, unable to stand, holding their ears. The candles were snuffed out all at once, and blackness fell. It was chaos as the light vanished-no moon, no stars, no flame. The gut-wrenching sound of demonic screams filled the void.

With an invisible explosion, the Seven burst through the double circle, up and out, into the world.

“Get him,” Fiona told Garrett as she rose from the ground. “Now I will learn his secrets.” She would take deep pleasure in torturing Raphael Cooper. He would tell all he knew before she was through. He would renounce all he believed in and swear allegiance to Fiona!

She would make Cooper suffer. Suffer for as long as it took her to hunt down each and every one of the Seven, even to the ends of the earth. He would pay dearly for his interference.

“He’s gone,” Garrett said.

“He’s not gone. Serena! Light!” Cooper could not have fled so quickly.

Serena fumbled in the dark and came up with a flashlight. She cast its beam around the circle.

The coven members were rising from the ground, the stench of fear rising from their skin. Pitiful.

Cooper was nowhere to be seen.

“How did he breach the circle?” Fiona demanded.

“How did he know the language?” Serena countered.

“Garrett, you and Ian stay and destroy the circle and bring the vessel.” She waved irritably toward Abby’s dead body. “Then find him. I want Raphael Cooper in front of me before sunrise.”

She looked at the others. “Disperse! Quickly! Speak to no one of this. Punishments you could never even imagine await anyone who betrays me.”

“Dammit!”

Moira slammed her fist on Jared’s dashboard as he stopped his pickup truck at the end of the short road that led to ruins along the cliffs.

“They’re gone,” she lamented. And for a split second, she was relieved. She wasn’t ready for this confrontation; she wasn’t ready to die. Guilt washed over her-she needed to prepare herself for the inevitable. She’d been trained for this moment, and now she wanted to run? She could never live with herself if she did.

“Maybe you’re wrong,” Jared said. “Maybe this isn’t what you thought.”

For a split second Moira hoped she had been wrong. It had been a mistake to come here, and she’d misread the vision. The feeling she had ten days ago when she walked across the scarred foundation and saw a burning river of tortured souls beneath the earth’s surface. No, she knew she was right about Santa Louisa, but that didn’t mean she knew what she was doing. What made her think she could beat her mother at her own evil game? Fiona had a lifetime of experience and a passionate- obsessive -desire to control the underworld. The power of Hell was on her side. Moira had fear, revenge, and a couple of years’ training with the top demon hunter in the world. That made her little better than a novice. An amateur. And amateurs died while masters prospered. Fiona, most certainly, was a master.

But if she didn’t do something to stop Fiona, Peter’s death wouldn’t be avenged. If she didn’t stand against evil, she stood for it. If she didn’t die fighting evil, she allowed it to flourish.

Rico always quoted some guy who’d said all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing . Being cocky, and scared, finally Moira had countered with, “You’re a man, I’m a woman. So you do it.” Rico just stared. He had no sense of humor. And when you faced life and death on a regular basis, Moira didn’t understand how anyone survived without enjoying a little humor in life.

She took a flashlight from her pocket and opened the passenger door. “I’m checking it out.” The interior light came on, and she quickly reached up and flicked it off.

Jared became incensed. “We have to find Lily! She’s not here, no one’s here! Where’s her car?”

She understood the kid’s frustration. What if … She shot a glance at Jared. Her instincts told her he wasn’t possessed or under a spell, and both Father Philip and Rico told her to trust her instincts, but she still doubted herself. With minimal movement, she reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a small bottle that looked like Visine. She squirted it toward Jared and the holy water hit him on the cheek.

“Hey!” He wiped his face, scowling. No mark, no steam, no rage, no rolling eyes. Even the strongest of demons couldn’t hide their first pained reaction after being hit with holy water, even if it was no more annoying than a bee sting.

“Sorry.” She pretended to put a drop in her eyes and pocketed her emergency “test” kit. She didn’t know why she had it. When she’d faced someone possessed, she knew it as certainly as she knew her name. But Rico insisted, and she was good at following orders. Most of the time. Sort of.

“I should have gone to Abby’s house first,” Jared mumbled. “Lily is probably there.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I’ve called her cell phone ten times … maybe she’s mad at me.”

“Stop second-guessing yourself.” Moira should have sat on the girl, or pushed her harder. Lily had seemed too fragile to handle all the information about the dangerous game Abby was playing with magic, and Moira had avoided the harder truths. Some people weren’t ready for any truth, let alone the tough facts. Friends who played with the dark arts were already too far gone, but Lily wouldn’t have been able to accept that truth about her cousin and confidante, Abby Weatherby. Once committed, there was no turning back. Once a person tasted dark power, giving it up was impossible.

So Moira had told Lily to stay away from her cousin, to let Moira know if there was anything strange going on, if Abby confided in her. She’d damn well learned her lesson-rely on no one else-and she prayed Lily was alive.