Carnal Sin sds-2

by Allison Brennan

  “I know you would have given your life to save any one of those men.” Rico’s words stunned Rafe into silence. “However, you’re correct that I don’t trust you.”

  “What’s going on?” Rafe asked, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was asking. The pressure of the last two weeks-awakening from his drug-induced coma, saving the young Lily Ellis, stopping the coven, losing Father Philip, and then the rigorous physical therapy to regain his strength-weighed on him. Not to mention that while everyone else had had months to mourn the deaths of the twelve priests last November, in Rafe’s mind only two weeks had passed.

  “You could have been a brilliant theologian or demonologist, but you left St. Michael’s for St. John’s. You could have been a great priest, but you left St. John’s for Olivet. You could have been a top warrior, but you left Olivet to return to the seminary. Yet you never took your vows, leaving St. John’s for Santa Louisa de los Padres.” Rico assessed him. “How can I trust you? You have no direction, no true allegiance. It’s as if you’re waiting for something, unable to commit. At your age, that’s unacceptable.”

  Rafe’s blood boiled. “I am loyal to St. Michael’s.” Rico didn’t respond. “Dammit, Rico, how dare you doubt my devotion!”

  “Moira has never lied to me until today. She’s protecting you.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. Moira isn’t protecting me from you.”

  Moira lied to Rico? What had she said? Rafe had never asked her to keep any secrets, though they had skirted around some of their concerns about what happened to him in the hospital while he was in the coma. Was that what she didn’t want to tell Rico?

  “Then explain to me how you learned to stop the Conoscenza ritual. How you knew the language.”

  “I don’t know. The words just came to me.” Rico’s disapproval and doubt mirrored Rafe’s own heart, but he pushed it aside. He wished he knew how he’d been able to save Lily Ellis, the arca, the teenager who would have been sacrificed to house the Seven Deadly Sins in her body for Fiona and her coven to use at will. He’d just … known. And he hadn’t stopped the ritual; he’d only saved Lily and prevented the coven from trapping the demons. They’d been released into the world, and people were still probably dying because of it.

  He had some ideas about his knowledge, but those ideas terrified him. From his dreams-his nightmares-Rafe knew things he should not know. And sometimes he had the sense that he wasn’t quite himself anymore. But he couldn’t tell Rico any of this. Because deep down, while he never doubted Rico’s loyalty to the demon hunters he trained, he also knew that Rico was ruthless. Any members of the Order who showed signs of mental instability were sent back to Italy for “observation,” but they were really in a glorified prison. Even with all the screening and protection and training, some members snapped.

  “Anthony is protecting you, I understand,” Rico said. “You and Anthony have always been close, and I appreciate the support you’ve given each other over the years. So if Anthony is somewhat blind to what’s been going on, I can take his comments and report with a grain of salt. But Moira?” Rico slammed his palm on the counter, a rare physical burst of anger. “She’s never lied to me. But she did it fully knowing what she was doing. I know her better than she knows herself, and I will not tolerate her hedging.”

  “What are you going to do? Toss her in a dungeon?”

  Rafe was being flip, but Rico’s sharp reaction surprised him. “Don’t you dare suggest that I’m anything like her evil mother.”

  What did that mean? What had Fiona done to Moira-and what did Rico know about it? Rico’s comment reminded Rafe that he didn’t know Moira as well as Rico did.

  “You’ve distracted Moira long enough,” Rico continued. “Stay away from her. She has a vital job to do and she can’t do it if her loyalties are torn.”

  “Is that the real reason you don’t want me going to Los Angeles?”

  “I can see right in front of me what’s going on,” Rico said. “Moira is preoccupied with your problems, your coma, your dreams. She’s worried and not fully focused on finding Fiona and Matthew Walker. She’s not focused on destroying the Conoscenza.”

  Rafe defended her. “She is consumed by her search for her mother!”

  Rico shook his head. “If she wavers, even a fraction, she’ll die before she gets a chance to complete her mission. And if that happens? There’s no one else. No one that we know of who can destroy the book.”

  “That’s all she is to you? A tool?”

  “Isn’t that all any of us are? That’s why you’ve been wandering, Raphael. You refuse to accept that you have a calling more important than yourself. Moira is not you. She’s accepted her charge, and she’s willing to do what it takes to stop evil on Earth.”

  “Even if she has to die.” Rafe realized why Moira would not acknowledge their intense, growing feelings for each other. She believed she would die. She was trying to protect herself, and him as well. But he didn’t want that kind of protection. “You weren’t there during the last battle. You have no idea how bravely Moira performed. Nothing can distract her from her goal; you trained her well.” Rafe sounded as bitter as he felt. But he would not let Moira die.

  “Yes I did,” Rico said with complete confidence. “But make no mistake, Raphael-her situation is extremely dangerous and any distractions will prove fatal. I don’t know what you did to ingratiate yourself with Moira, to get her to lie for you. I don’t want you going to Los Angeles. Stay away from her.”

  “Like hell I will. Moira and I are a good team. We worked together trapping Envy. You can even ask Anthony.”

  “Moira doesn’t need a partner.”

  “Doesn’t that go against everything you taught us at Olivet?”

  “I am Moira’s partner.”

  “You?” Rafe laughed. “From way up in Montana? I can see how well you protected her two weeks ago when Matthew Walker nearly killed her. Or from the Cerberus who attacked her. Or from the demon-”

  Rico pushed off from the counter and was only a foot away from Rafe, his jaw tight and his dark eyes narrow. “I will be there when it counts.”

  Rafe didn’t back down. “It counted then.”

  “Stay away from her.”

  “No.” Why was Rico so fixated on Rafe partnering with Moira? They had the same goal: stopping the Seven Deadly Sins. And no one else cared about Moira the way Rafe did. He didn’t want her to die. He wondered if Rico or Anthony felt the same.

  “I’ll have you recalled,” Rico threatened.

  “I dare you.”

  “The cardinal won’t protect you if he thinks you’re stopping Moira in any way from completing her mission.”

  Suddenly, everything came clear. Rico’s attitude, his efforts to keep Rafe from partnering with Moira. His harder-than-usual animosity. Before he could stop the words from spilling out, Rafe said, “You’re in love with her.”

  Rico’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t realized it, but Rafe saw it as clear as day. Rico was playing the dominant male, trying to chase Rafe away from Moira because he considered her his territory.

  Rafe wasn’t about to be chased away from anyone he cared about, especially Moira.

  Rico said in a low voice, “You’ve been lying to everyone, Raphael, and maybe you’re even lying to yourself. Anthony told me how you cut open Moira’s hand during the battle with Envy. You claimed it was because the demon at the witch’s house died after biting her, and you were taking a leap of faith. Good excuse, which Anthony bought hook, line, and sinker. But we both know there’s more to it than that.”

  Rico thought Rafe cut Moira as some sort of excuse? A cover for nefarious activity?

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Rico. What I told Anthony was the truth.”

  “The truth?” Rico said. “I don’t think you know the truth.”

  Rico was baiting him and Rafe tried not to jump.

  “You took Moira’s blood because you think it’s a weapon.”


  “Isn’t that what you used it for? None of us even suspected her blood might hold the answers.”

  “It was just a theory, I didn’t know it would work. We were all going to die. I had to do something.”

  “But you knew exactly what to do.”

  “That’s why you want her blood. You’re going to test my theory, try to hurt a demon with it.”

  “It’s not a theory if you’re using magic.”

  “I’m not going to tell you again that I’m not.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Go to Hell.”

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Raphael.”

  “I’m not playing. I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  “If anything happens to Moira under your watch, I will kill you,” Rico said. He strode toward the sliding glass door, but Rafe wasn’t letting him have the last word.

  “The same goes for you, Rico. And I’m betting that your plans for Moira have more to do with her dying than mine.”

  Rico hesitated a moment, then continued out the door without looking back.

  Rafe stared after him. You’re on notice, buddy.

  FIVE

  Rico and Anthony retrieved the tabernacle that housed the demon Envy from St. Francis de Sales Church, and Anthony drove Rico to the small Santa Louisa airfield where Rico had landed his private plane earlier that morning.

  Rico always kept his emotions under tight rein, which was why most people thought he was heartless. In many ways, he was; his vocation required it. He had no time for the pleasantries that were customary among people. Like Anthony and the others, he’d been abandoned as an infant at St. Michael’s doorstep and raised by the priests and monks in the fortress they called home. He’d been trained to be a warrior for God. He knew nothing else. He didn’t want to know anything else. His calling was clear, and he had never doubted it once in his thirty-seven years. Never.

  Which was why Raphael was able to get under his skin. Ex-hunter, ex-seminarian, the guy was full of doubt and questions. And he had the audacity to question Rico about the single most important, most dangerous battle they’d faced this century-which also could be the last. Raphael had never understood that he was a soldier, and soldiers take orders. Though he didn’t agree with them, Rico had accepted Raphael’s choices. Until now. Raphael was spreading his doubts to others, including Anthony. The cardinal had always supported Raphael’s rash decisions, so Rico had kept quiet. But now Moira was showing shades of Raphael’s influence.

  Without her doing exactly what she was supposed to do, they would lose. All her training, all the time Rico spent working with her so she would have the mental and physical strength to do what now very much needed to be done, would be wasted.

  He hadn’t enjoyed being the lead trainer. He had to break down his people to ensure that they could not be broken when in battle. It was grueling work. Rico survived only because he knew it was necessary to ensure the survival of the human race. Few people wanted to go to war. But in the battle between the underworld and humanity, the underworld would never stop coming for them. It was relentless. Vicious. Evil.

  So Rico accepted his calling, but there were times he despised what he had to do. Such as when he had put Moira in a dungeon not unlike the one her mother had kept her in for nine days. Being physically trapped was Moira’s greatest fear. Rico had to put her in the same situation so she could learn to survive if it happened to her again.

  God, how she had suffered! Rico had wanted to pull her out time and time again, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. And she was stronger for it. She had survived jail when trapped there two weeks ago. She was still claustrophobic, but she now had the tools to overcome it. She had to be able to survive anything Fiona or the demons put in her path.

  There was more at stake here than their lives! That Raphael didn’t see and understand that was far more disturbing than anything the fool had done-or not done-to date. If Raphael corrupted Moira, turned her away from her mission, there would be chaos.

  And all Rico had done to prepare her would be for naught.

  “Would you like me to inspect your plane?” Anthony asked as he pulled up to the airstrip.

  “I’ll do it,” Rico said. “You need to catch that plane to Italy, and you have a long drive to San Francisco.”

  “I understand the importance of this trip, but the timing is very bad,” Anthony said.

  Rico was in no mood to listen to anyone else question orders. That it was coming from Anthony-who had always been loyal and righteous-was especially disturbing. “Your personal life is inconsequential, Anthony. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

  Anthony tensed. “I have not allowed my personal life to interfere with my mission.”

  “Any personal life interferes. I hope you understand that when you are forced to make a choice.”

  “You can’t be telling me I have to choose between Skye and St. Michael’s!”

  “Not now. But you know as well as I do that the time will come when a choice is inevitable. Every one of us who has become … involved,” he emphasized, “has had to choose between the Order and their personal relationships. It’s never been pleasant, and usually it’s deadly.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” Anthony said with anger. “Before he was killed, Peter was my brother.”

  “Yes. Peter. He was not just your brother, he was a brother to us all. But your affection for him clouded your judgment then, just like your affection for Raphael is clouding your judgment now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means exactly what I said. You are blind when it comes to Raphael. We don’t know what happened to him at the hospital, what those magicians might have done to him. What he’s doing now. If you stop and look at everything that has happened these last two weeks-objectively, not with rose-colored glasses-you’ll see that he is teetering on the edge. I don’t know which way he’s going to fall. But Raphael will fall, and he’ll take others with him.”

  Anthony slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “It’s her fault!”

  Rico’s gut twisted. He couldn’t share everything with Anthony-yet. But soon he’d have to know. For now, he said, “I understand why you have animosity toward Moira, but she’s essential to our mission. Without her, we can’t beat Fiona or destroy the Conoscenza.”

  “She’s not that good.”

  Rico disagreed, but arguing with Anthony on that point would be fruitless. “There are things we don’t fully know at this point, but the research is extensive and your meeting with Dr. Lieber is essential to filling the gaps in our knowledge.”

  “What research? It would help if you kept me informed!”

  “I would tell you everything I know, Anthony, except it would cloud your judgment. I don’t want you going into the meeting with any preconceived ideas. After Italy, you’ll fly to Olivet. We’ll meet and combine information. I still have some work to do but will have answers by the time you return to the States.”

  “Does your ‘work’ have something to do with taking Moira’s blood?”

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  Anthony expected more from him, but Rico remained silent.

  “I need to leave or I’ll miss my flight,” Anthony said after a moment.

  “Be careful, Anthony. These are dangerous times.”

  Rico retrieved the tabernacle and watched as Anthony drove away. Too fast. In anger.

  Anthony’s anger had always been his weak spot.

  Rico walked to his plane. He secured the demon in his hold, which he’d spiritually reinforced to prevent any possible escape. Still, flying alone with the demon tested even his steely resolve.

  But he always did what was necessary, no matter what the risk or cost.

  SIX

  Moira had never been to a morgue before.

  She’d seen dead people, but she hadn’t hung around to see what happened to the bodies after they died.

  And she kinda, sorta-okay, absolutely-w
ished she did not know now.

  Skye didn’t seem to have the same problem Moira had walking through rows of the dead in a very cold, very large, very sterile room in the Los Angeles County Morgue, following a petite black girl with a nose ring named Fern. Fern … something. Moira had been so floored by the atmosphere, she didn’t even remember the girl’s name. Fern called this cavernous room the crypt-just the name freaked Moira out. Dead people covered with sheets, gurneys stacked three high that could be summoned by the touch of a button.

  “I want to be cremated,” Moira said suddenly.

  Fern shot her a glance and a grin. “You’d still probably have to come through a place like this first.”

  “Great.” She plastered a smile on her face, but it didn’t feel natural and Skye shot her an odd look. Somewhere between concern and surprise. Moira could practically hear Skye saying:

  You nearly died facing down an incarnate demon, but a few dead people freak you out?

  Moira didn’t know why she was getting the heebie-jeebies. She wasn’t normally skittish. But the hair on her arms rose, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the dungeon her mother had locked her in, the first time she’d tried to escape Fiona’s coven. It had been cold-not this cold, but cold enough. And the smell was similar-not the antiseptic, overly clean scent of the crypt, but the underlying, subtle scent of death. Of decomposing bodies. That they were in a room that could be easily locked, where they could be trapped with the dead, terrified her. Another type of prison. A place Fiona would love to keep her while she mentally tortured her.

  “Moira.” Skye put a hand on her shoulder and Moira jumped.

  “Fine. I’m fine.”

  Skye didn’t believe her; who would? Moira was probably as pale as the corpses. She mentally closed down her senses-Rico would be pissed, but Moira didn’t want to feel any of the spirits that might be lingering. She was too jittery, like this morning when she came within inches of hurting Rafe after her vision. She didn’t think she would have-she’d been acting on what Rico called her mental muscle, instincts plus training that kept her alive.