Carnal Sin

by Allison Brennan

  “Right.” Moira pointed a finger at Anthony. “I’ll get it myself.” She crossed to the refrigerator and took out two water bottles. She tossed one to Rico without looking and the trainer caught it with ease, his reflexes almost feline. There was an easy camaraderie between Rico and Moira, which got under Rafe’s skin. He averted his eyes, kept his face impassive. The fact that Rico had trained Moira, and befriended her, didn’t change the depth or complexity of Rafe’s relationship with her. Given their past, it was natural that Rico and Moira had gotten close.

  How close?

  “I’ll be back in ten minutes,” Moira said, leaving the room.

  Rafe leaned against the counter.

  Rico stared pointedly at Rafe, putting him even more on edge. “Raphael. I see you’ve returned to the land of the living.”

  Rafe gave a nod. “You haven’t changed.”

  “You have.”

  Rico’s style was cool and hard to read. His comment was full of double meaning.

  Rafe had fought his own battles with Rico over the years. Some might chalk it up to a difference in opinion, like Anthony, who had worked with both of them and had respect for each man. But Rafe knew how his former trainer thought: as far as Rico was concerned, those who died in the battle against evil were martyrs, heroes, saints. Rico trained his men—and Moira—well, but in the end, they all knew they would die fighting.

  There were no old men who’d graduated from Olivet. That Moira was one of Rico’s hunters increasingly bothered Rafe.

  Skye broke the awkward silence. “Will you be staying the night?” she asked Rico.

  He shook his head. “The sooner I transport the demon to Olivet, the better for everyone.”

  Rafe watched Skye assess the situation as any experienced cop would. He wondered what she thought of Rico.

  “Why are you moving it in the first place?” Skye asked. “Not that I’m complaining—I’d rather have the creature as far from Santa Louisa as possible. But Anthony said the vault at St. Francis is strong enough to hold it.”

  Rico nodded. “It is. But Olivet’s facilities are far more extensive and better equipped to contain the demon. And we have guards. Father Isaac at St. Francis is devout and capable, but his age makes him vulnerable. I want to minimize his risk.”

  “And what are you going to do once you get it there?” Skye asked.

  “Keep it restrained until we find out how to send it back to Hell. Or kill it.”

  “Demons can’t be killed,” Anthony said.

  “We can’t be certain of that. Based on the evidence I’ve seen, Moira killed the demon that imprisoned Raphael. We’re exploring every possible solution to this crisis. We have no choice. The last time the Seven reigned on Earth, virtually every man involved in banishing them back to the underworld died.”

  Skye tensed. “This has happened before?”

  Anthony said, “Nearly a thousand years ago. It’s documented in the Book of the Unknown Martyr Father Philip brought with him before—”

  Anthony paused. Father’s death had been hard on him. As hard on him as on Moira. And still, Rafe realized, Anthony wouldn’t talk to Moira about it.

  Rico said, “In the Martyr’s book, there is a lot written about the Conoscenza. We also know from the Unknown Martyr that his battle was not the first. This has all happened before and it will continue to happen until the Conoscenza is destroyed. In this age, we can’t afford to lose everyone. This is but one battle in a war that will last until the end-time.”

  And that, Rafe realized, was the truth that unified them. St. Michael’s Order was founded on the core principle that inaction in the face of evil was the greatest sin.

  “How did they do it a thousand years ago?” Skye asked. “They had to have been successful.”

  “They were. They sent the Seven back to Hell. But we don’t know how, because everyone involved died in the process. The book ends with only an incomplete plan. We don’t know what they did, only that they believed they could destroy the Conoscenza with fire. Yet, it resurfaced twice in the last eight hundred years, and each time was allegedly burned. And it still survived.”

  “It sounds impossible,” Skye whispered.

  “The Conoscenza is written by demons with demon blood, on paper made from human remains,” Rico said matter-of-factly.

  Skye paled, and Rafe wanted to shake some compassion into Rico.

  Rico continued, “I read your report, Anthony, and Moira’s.” He turned to Rafe. “I didn’t get one from you.”

  Rafe looked Rico in the eye. “I didn’t realize I answered to you.”

  Rico said, “It would be helpful to know from your point of view what happened at the Mission last November. Your recovery is very important to St. Michael’s, as is anything you remember during your coma, and upon waking.”

  Skye straightened her back, and Rafe wondered whether she’d known Anthony had sent Rico her police reports. Rafe wondered if they were public.

  To Rico, he said, “You know what happened.”

  “I still have questions.”

  “Then ask them.”

  His refusal to bow down to Saint Rico irritated the trainer, though he hid it well. Rafe suppressed a grin. The man needed to be taken down a notch. He wasn’t a saint yet.

  Rico said, “We’ll get to that later. Anthony, I have an assignment for you.”

  “Of course. What do you need?” Anthony sat at the table and the others followed his lead.

  “We have battles all over the world,” Rico said. “Our Order is spread thin. Losing Father Philip was a severe blow—he was our spiritual center. He was our advocate. He was the reason the Order had quiet sanction from the Vatican to continue our thousand-year mission. I went to the sanctuary in Italy to solidify our position and ensure that we wouldn’t have to go underground, as the Order has had to do from time to time. That’s when I convinced Dr. Lieber to meet with you.”

  Anthony said, “That’s good news. I’ve been trying to reach him for the last two weeks. But I haven’t heard that St. Michael’s is worried about going into hiding. Has something changed?”

  “For now, nothing. But make no mistake about it: we have been put on notice. We must be discreet. We must be swift. This age—with the Internet and instant information, instant news—it both helps us tremendously and severely threatens us.”

  Moira returned, her dark hair wet from her shower. She’d pulled it into a tight ponytail, water still dripping down her back, her black high-necked shirt molding to her skin. She didn’t sit with them at the table, but perched on the edge of the buffet—both physically above the men and separated from them. Rafe wished she’d join them, and hoped she didn’t think that because she was the only female hunter she didn’t have equal say, or because Anthony dismissed her that she wasn’t part of the group. But he realized that Moira had the best vantage point. She could see everyone at once.

  Moira said, “Speaking of the Internet, I’ve been monitoring the message boards and there’s been increased chatter about paranormal activities. Most are garbage, but I’ve been following up on a few. In fact, I was planning on heading to San Francisco to check out a coven that may have been connected to Walker while he was up there.”

  Rafe stiffened and Anthony glared at her. They hadn’t known she was planning a trip. There was no way Rafe was letting Moira run off on her own. He had confidence she could handle most anything that came her way—she was unusually resourceful—but she was still threatened by Fiona O’Donnell and Matthew Walker, who had nearly killed her.

  Rico said, “The situation has changed. No one goes on any assignment alone. And right now, I don’t have anyone to spare, especially with Anthony’s trip to Italy.”

  “What?” Anthony asked.

  “I told you that Dr. Lieber has agreed to meet with you. John is driving him from Switzerland as we speak. You’ll meet him at St. Michael’s.”

  “With all due respect, Rico, I have a lot of work to do here.”

 
“Dr. Lieber takes precedence. He refuses to fly, and will speak only with you. There’s no other option.”

  Moira said, “I can still check out the situation in San Francisco. I don’t need backup—I’ve been on my own for the last seven years, and a few days by myself isn’t going to kill me.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Rafe said.

  “We will discuss it later,” Rico said in such a tone that Rafe knew he’d never consider sending Rafe with Moira. Was it because he didn’t trust him? Because Rafe hadn’t finished the training at Olivet? Or because Rico just didn’t like him? The feeling was mutual.

  Rico continued, “Ensuring that the demon you captured is secure is our number one priority, followed by Anthony’s trip to Italy. Dr. Lieber is a brilliant man, if extremely paranoid, and while I don’t think he knows the answers, I believe he has information that could lead us to the solution on how to send the Seven Deadly Sins back where they belong.”

  “How long will he be gone?” Skye asked. She was trying to sound nonchalant, but Rafe sensed she was upset about Anthony leaving.

  “Two or three days. I don’t want him away from Santa Louisa too long. We’ve decided that the Santa Louisa mission is, for now, one of our most important bases. We must continue rebuilding. We need a place for our people to regroup. We’ve lost many in the battle. And many like Father Isaac, who’ve provided sanctuary in the States, have grown fearful in the face of threats and adversity. Some of our allies have closed their doors to us.”

  Moira said, “What do you expect? They don’t see the point of fighting when they think they just have to be good little children, and when the end comes they worry about their own souls and no one else!”

  “Moira!” Anthony said harshly. “That’s enough.”

  Rafe leaned forward and said softly, “She’s right and you know it.”

  If Rico noticed the friction, he said nothing, commenting instead on the state of the mission. “I’ve been authorized to provide any resources necessary to restore the mission as quickly as possible, and Anthony is the best to oversee the project.”

  “So Anthony is going to Italy,” Moira said, “and you’re taking the demon to Olivet. What do Rafe and I do? Sit around and twiddle our thumbs?”

  Rico said, “You will continue to do what you need to do.”

  “Can you be a little more vague?” Rafe said.

  “Raphael, we need to find out exactly what happened to you during your coma, or you could be a risk to all of us.”

  Rafe slowly rose from his seat. “I am not a risk.”

  “That’s not what he meant,” Moira intervened. “Rico.”

  “But that is what I meant,” Rico said flatly. “I appreciate loyalty, but for ten weeks the coven had Rafe under their thumb. We don’t know what they did to him, and we need to know. I have every available man searching for members of Fiona’s coven. Any luck with Richard Bertram?”

  Skye said, “I’m still working on a subpoena for destroying Rafe’s medical records, but Bertram claims it was an accident.”

  Rico dismissed her legal authority, and Rafe saw it irritated the sheriff. Rico said, “Make no mistake: our primary responsibility is to capture the Seven before we lose more lives. And second? Find and destroy the Conoscenza.” He looked at Moira. Something crossed his face, but when Rafe tried to figure out what had disturbed Rico, the trainer’s cold, blank expression returned.

  For a split second, Rafe thought Rico had looked scared.

  “That’s my job,” Moira said lightly, belying the seriousness of the conversation.

  “Yes it is,” Rico said softly.

  Something was wrong, and it bothered Rafe that he couldn’t put his finger on it. It had to do with Moira, and by extension her safety. He would damn well figure out what was going on.

  Skye’s phone vibrated on the table, and she grabbed it up and excused herself, walking outside onto the deck.

  “Where’s the girl now?” Rico asked, changing the subject.

  “The girl?” Rafe asked.

  “The arca.”

  “Her name is Lily,” Rafe said.

  Anthony shot him a glance. Rafe wasn’t about to back down. Rico could damn well think of Lily as a person. When she was thought of as anything less, she’d become expendable, a martyr to the cause. Rafe wasn’t going to let that happen to the teenager that Father Philip died to save.

  “She’s with Deputy Hank Santos,” Anthony said. “He has assisted us.”

  “I read your report,” Rico said impatiently. “Santos was affected by one of the demons; he may be susceptible again.”

  “Jared is keeping an eye on the situation,” Moira said.

  “The girl’s—” Rico hesitated, then said, “Lily’s boyfriend? So we have hormones involved? Can we trust his judgment, considering he was willing to participate in an occult ritual ostensibly to save his girlfriend?”

  “He understands the situation now,” Moira said. “He’s not going to make the same mistake.”

  “All it takes is one mistake. He either exercised poor judgment or he was under the influence of a spell. Either way, he’s weak.”

  “He’s not weak,” Moira defended Jared. “Young, but not weak. I’ll work with him.”

  “Then he’s your responsibility,” Rico said, showing his irritation and his true colors. Rico did not like mistakes, not even one. “You’d better keep him in line.”

  “One mistake is all it takes to die,” Rico had told Rafe during his training at Olivet. “One mistake and people you care about die. One mistake and you lose your soul.”

  Skye stepped back into the room and cleared her throat. “If you’re done bickering, I have some news. Rod—Dr. Rod Fielding, the coroner,” she added for Rico’s benefit, “got a call from the Los Angeles morgue. Three confirmed demon’s marks in L.A.” She held out her BlackBerry to show Rico.

  He glanced at the digital photograph and asked, “What do you think?”

  Anthony held out his hand, but Rico handed the phone to Moira. A wash of unease ran down Rafe’s neck from the anger coming off Anthony. No one else seemed to notice.

  “Fuck,” Moira said and handed Anthony the phone. “Not identical to the others, but close.”

  Skye said, “The L.A. coroner will allow me to view the bodies, but they won’t send them up here.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Anthony said.

  “You’re going to St. Michael’s,” Rico reminded him. “Your flight leaves today.”

  “Skye can’t go to L.A. alone,” Anthony said. “She doesn’t know what she’ll face, she doesn’t have the training—”

  Skye said, “Rod Fielding and I are going to view the bodies, talk to the coroner and the investigating officers, find out about the victims. Rod wants to show the L.A. coroner the brains of two of our victims. Apparently, one of the L.A. vics has a similar anomaly. I’ll be back tonight—it’s only a three-hour drive.”

  “What if you locate Fiona’s coven? It’s too great a risk, and if the marks prove to be true demon’s marks, we’ll know that one of the Seven is in L.A. It’s too dangerous to go there alone—for any of us.”

  Rico said, “Moira will go with her.”

  “I’ll go as well,” Rafe added.

  “No.” Rico didn’t even look at Rafe when he spoke. “There’s no need for you to go. Moira is a trained hunter.”

  Rafe bit back his displeasure, wanted to argue, but Moira was looking at him, silently asking him why he was being so hostile. Rafe didn’t like seeing Moira worried about him, but her eyes betrayed her concern. She’d been apprehensive about him and the memories he had—memories that weren’t his. They didn’t speak of it often, and Anthony had dismissed Rafe’s recollections as remnants of his magic-induced coma. At least Anthony pretended he wasn’t concerned. But Rafe didn’t like being the brunt of scrutiny, and he didn’t want Moira or anyone looking at him as though he were crazy. Or worse, that he was somehow being used by the coven.

  Then she
said, “Rafe should come with us to L.A. We can cover more ground with the three of us there, and leave Dr. Fielding to talk shop with the coroner.”

  Rico didn’t look happy that she’d contradicted him, and Rafe held back a grin.

  “That’s fine with me,” Skye said. “But we should get going. It’s a long drive.”

  Moira walked around the table. “Is this what it’s going to be like?” Everyone turned to look at her, unsure of what exactly she was driving at. Her eyes settled on Rafe’s. “We won’t know where the damn demons are until people start dying?”

  Skye said, “My thoughts exactly.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to swing by the station and let them know I’ll be out all day, clear up a few things.”

  “I’ll get my stuff together,” Moira said and left the room.

  Skye asked, “How do we know which demon is at work and where it is?”

  “That’s easy,” Rafe said. “Look at the deaths and find out what the victims were doing when they died. That will lead us to the demon.”

  Anthony nodded in agreement. “When we trapped Envy, it was because we figured out the common denominator of the four people who died. Once we know what connects the victims in L.A., we can devise a plan on how to trap it.”

  “With another tabernacle?” Skye asked.

  “That,” Anthony said, “is one thing I’m uncertain about. I hope Dr. Lieber has the answers. At this point, I’d be happy with a theory.”

  Moira returned wearing her custom leather jacket, her satchel with the tools of her trade draped over her shoulder.

  “I’m ready when you are, Sheriff. And Rico?” She paused until Rico looked at her. “If you learn anything from my blood, let me know.”

  After she walked out, Rafe glared at Rico. What was he planning for Moira?

  FOUR

  Grant Nelson had been staring at the dead young woman for several minutes when Johnston said, “Nelson? You okay?”

  Grant turned his back on Stephanie Frazier’s frozen remains, her body folded improbably into Kent Galion’s freezer. He didn’t work Missing Persons, but he’d heard from Julie at Velocity that Stephanie had been missing since she’d complained about Galion hitting on her Wednesday night.