Rafe wanted to assure Moira that he was okay, that this new development wasn’t going to jeopardize their lives, but she didn’t let him speak, and she wouldn’t have believed him, anyway. He didn’t really believe it either, but every breath was a risk while the Seven Deadly Sins were still at large.
“Don’t,” Moira said between kisses.
“Don’t what?” he asked, barely able to speak.
“Don’t die on me.”
She blinked as she moved away from him. “I’m not,” he said. Then he realized she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
He knew what had happened to Peter, Moira’s lover, seven years ago at St. Michael’s. Peter was another orphan raised at the monastery. Rafe hadn’t been there when a demon possessed Moira and killed Peter through her. He hadn’t been there when she’d been sent to Olivet for training to be a demon hunter. The Order had used Moira’s anguish and skills to manipulate her into joining the battle St. Michael’s had been fighting for hundreds of years. And she was one of the best. But at what cost?
“We need to get to the camp,” Moira said.
“Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” Rafe said.
Moira stared at him, not believing what he was saying. She wasn’t a liar. She hadn’t kept anything from Rafe.
“Lie?” But her tone faltered, she couldn’t muster up any more anger. Her fears were so intense sometimes she wanted to scream—worry for Rafe’s life, that he could die, that they both would be killed before this battle was over. But it wasn’t just their physical safety. Rafe was holding back something, she’d felt it from the minute they returned from Los Angeles last month. She’d talked around it, trying to get him to share, and now they were closer than ever before to him admitting there was something going on with him. And she was willing to drop it. Why? Because she was afraid of the truth?
Maybe. Maybe she was. She didn’t want to lose Rafe to Fiona’s coven—either his life or his soul. When they returned to Santa Louisa they’d have to address it. But not now.
She said, “We really need to get up to the camp. We’ll talk when this is over—I promise.”
He kissed her again, and for a moment she embraced the impossible dream. That they could turn around and leave. Run away and live on an island where no one could find them.
She sighed, touched her forehead to Rafe’s, savored the quiet minute. Peace.
Give up the dream. Peace isn’t in the cards for you.
Maybe not. But for a moment, she could lie to herself. The lie gave her hope, and without hope she had nothing.
Chapter Four
Ten minutes later, after driving up an old winding, patched road, Rafe drove into a clearing. In the center was a man-made stack of boulders with a sign on top:
His World Nature Camp
Discovering spirituality through stewardship
Grant had told them not to talk to anyone, but Moira and Rafe had already decided that the fastest way to get answers was to ask questions. After reading about the camp on the Internet, and making a quick call to people at St. Michael’s who kept tabs on havens for the occult, they determined that the camp itself was legit. That meant any dark influence had been temporary. Maybe a summer counselor, specifically one who was here at the same time as Amy and Beth.
“Ready?” he asked.
Moira gave him a quick kiss. “Let’s do it.”
They stepped out of the car. It was chilly this high up in the mountains and Moira was glad she’d worn a sweater, though she loved the cool, overcast day. The newscaster had predicted rain by tonight, but right now it was perfect.
She breathed in the clean, fresh air, the scent of pine and redwood and moss and damp earth filling her nose. She didn’t want to leave. She lowered her inner shields so she could feel any magical energy. That’s when she felt it.
“Wiccans.”
“This is a Wiccan camp?”
“No—but someone here is a Wicca. There’s been a casting of basic spells—harmony, growth, stuff like that. No dark magic but—” She frowned.
“What’s wrong, Moira?” He sounded worried.
“There’s a protection spell—no, a cleansing spell. Someone has been here recently and tried to dissipate negative energy.”
“Are you in danger?”
Because she sensed magic so strongly, she ran a greater risk of exposure to spells when she lowered her shields, especially since she couldn’t fight back using magic itself.
“No. I need to find the source of the cleansing spell—that’ll tell me where the dark magic started. It’s still there, just being suppressed.”
“Are others at risk?”
“I won’t know until I find it.” She glanced back at Rafe. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. There’s nothing active, only residual magic.”
He nodded, but his face was clouded and Moira wished she knew what he was really thinking. Sometimes, he could be so open and want to talk about everything—sometimes to the point of making her want to shut him up with a kiss—and other times he shut down and getting anything out of him was impossible.
They walked across the clearing and as they approached the wooden stairs to the natural wood two-story cabin, a gray-haired woman opened the door. Her smooth skin suggested someone in her thirties, but her hair was completely gray, and pulled back into a loose bun. Fifty, plus or minus. She had black-rimmed reading glasses on a chain around her neck next to a small, simple gold crucifix. Moira relaxed—just because she wore a crucifix didn’t mean she was one of the good guys, but chances that she was dabbling in the dark arts diminished greatly.
“I heard you drive up. Lost?”
“No, ma’am,” Rafe responded. “I’m Raphael Cooper. This is my wife, Moira.” He lied so smoothly—something that was easy for Moira, but she didn’t like how much easier it was becoming for Rafe since she’d met him two months ago. “We’re visiting friends in Los Angeles and heard about your camp. We thought it was a nice day for a drive—before the rain starts—and wanted to see the place.”
“We primarily serve the teen community.”
“We’re thinking about my younger sister, Lily,” Moira said. Another lie, but Moira was well-versed in lying.
“Wonderful. I’m Evelyn Masters. I’ve been the director of His World for seventeen years. I used to teach at an all-girls high school. Loved my job, but when I was diagnosed with Stage Two breast cancer at the age of thirty-four, everything changed.”
As she spoke, she started walking away from the administrative building. Moira and Rafe walked beside her. “I went through surgery and chemotherapy and if it wasn’t for my faith and my husband, I wouldn’t have survived. I was so angry at everyone, but it’s no one’s fault.” She sighed, but smiled. “The experience made me realize that even though I loved my job, I wanted to fulfill my dream of being a naturalist. I wanted to teach young people to love God’s creations and be good stewards. A woman I met through a support group knew all about His World and one thing led to another. They needed a director and caretaker. Kenny and I knew it was our calling. We’ve been here ever since.”
She stopped in a clearing with a large willow tree in the center. “We have one other full-time staff member, Carmen, who supervises the counselors and helps run individual programs. She also travels to high schools and churches to talk about the camp and what we offer. She came on eight years ago.”
It was the willow tree that was the source of the Wiccan spell. There was a strong sense of peace surrounding it. And it was a repeated ritual. Someone was fearful of something, but Moira couldn’t get a sense of what dark energy was being suppressed.
“This is lovely,” Moira said.
“It is, isn’t it?” Evelyn smiled. “This is our main gathering spot.”
Moira rested her hand on the tree trunk. A flash of the past came and went. She’d had these visions before, but they were related to the Seven Deadly Sins. This was di
fferent.
She stumbled and Rafe was suddenly at her side, holding her up. “Moira?” he said quietly.
“Nothing.” It wasn’t dark or evil, at least she didn’t think so. But she couldn’t dismiss the physical jolt she’d had.
“Can I get you some water?” Evelyn asked, concerned.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Really. Just a bit dizzy.”
“She doesn’t eat right,” Rafe said by way of explanation.
“If I can splash water on my face,” she suggested.
“We’ll go back to the office.”
“I can find my way. Rafe, why don’t you look at the cabins? Take some pictures for Lily. I’ll catch up with you.”
Rafe was more than a little concerned about Moira, but he couldn’t question her further in front of Evelyn, and the opportunity was perfect for her to search the main building for any information about Amy, Beth, or the staff at the camp.
He watched her walk away, then smiled at Evelyn. “She’ll be fine. She lives on energy bars.” That was, unfortunately, true. She never thought about eating, and when she did eat it was protein bars and fast food, whatever was easiest. He didn’t know how she’d survived without him.
“We can wait here for your wife,” she said.
“Let’s take a quick look at the cabins, then we’ll come back here.” It would be quick, because Moira would need to inspect them as well, for things he couldn’t sense or see.
“Certainly.” Evelyn talked about the history and activities of the camp, but Rafe was only half-listening.
Wife. No one from St. Michael’s married. That he and Moira were together caused consternation among the Order. They knew what they faced. Getting married was forbidden. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a priest, they were charged with fighting supernatural evil on earth to save souls from horrific pain and suffering. And until God flipped the switch and ended it all, they had a mandate.
He wanted to marry Moira. It would shake the foundation of St. Michael’s Order, but Rafe knew without a doubt that he was meant to be with Moira until they died. He had to convince her of it, and convince her to walk away from their job. If they survived the capture of all seven of the sins.
That, of course, was against the odds.
He realized that Evelyn was waiting for him to answer a question. He searched his subconscious memory for what they were discussing, then he saw several dead trees and plants. They surrounded one of the cabins used by the campers.
Evelyn followed his gaze. “The trees here inexplicitly died. Kenny didn’t understand what had happened, thought there was a disease, but couldn’t determine what could have killed so quickly—one week they were healthy, the next dead. We’re going to remove the trees; fortunately, the other plants are coming back.”
“Others?”
She gestured to the shrubs and perennial flowers that were growing near the cabin. “We thought we’d lose everything, that maybe it would spread to the other trees, or that there was a contaminant leak of some sort. We finally decided it was an act of God.” She crossed herself.
Rafe inspected the plants around the cabin that had new growth. They appeared black and rotted in the stems, but were sprouting new buds. The three trees nearest the cabin, however, looked as if they’d been set on fire at one time.
“Do you know plants?”
Rafe said, “A bit. I had a vegetable garden at one time.”
She smiled. “I have one behind the main building. Keeping the deer and rabbits from destroying it is a daily job.”
He returned the grin. “I had the same problem.” Over her shoulder he saw through the trees a clearing covered with blue and yellow flowers. It seemed odd so early in the season. “What’s over there?”
She looked. “Amazing, isn’t it? That building on the other side is our activities room and cafeteria. The flowers came up last summer. It used to be just dirt, but we’re not complaining.”
“May I go look?”
“Of course.
They walked over and Rafe answered questions about Lily. Fortunately, she was real, even though she wasn’t Moira’s sister, nor was she sixteen, so it made it easy to talk about her.
As soon as he squatted to look at the flowers, he knew exactly what was there. Bluebell and St. John’s Wort. Flowers used in truth spells. But why would there be a field of such flowers in the middle of nowhere? It was odd—but was it magical or natural?
Moira approached from behind them. “I thought I saw you over here.”
“Feeling better, honey?” Evelyn asked as a concerned grandmother might.
“Much, thank you.” She winked at Rafe, then noticed where they were standing. She stared, unable to keep the surprise from her face.
“Do you have any questions for Mrs. Masters?” Rafe asked Moira.
“No, not really.” She was still distracted, and stepped back, away from the flowers.
Rafe followed her lead, and soon they were walking back to the main cabin. Moira said, “Rafe, do you remember the girl Lily mentioned who came here last summer? Shoot, I can’t remember her name, but it was with a youth group in San Luis Obispo. They met when—oh! Elizabeth. She was here end of June.”
Evelyn nodded. “Of course, every year the Southern California Spiritual Coalition raises money to send forty-eight teenagers here for a week. Wonderful organization. I can get the youth director’s contact information for a reference.”
Moira pulled a small note pad from her pocket. “We have dinner plans, but if you could email it to me?” She wrote out her email address and handed it to Evelyn.
“Of course.”
“Thank you for your time,” Rafe said. They’d reached the car. “We truly appreciate it.”
“I hope to see your sister here.”
As soon as they drove away, Rafe said, “What happened?”
“I copied the files from the week Amy and Beth were here. Not only were they here at the same time, they shared a cabin.”
“There was one cabin where all the surrounding plants and trees were dead. Except the smaller shrubs had some new growth.”
“I saw that. I’ve seen it before. Black magic killed the plants—but not just black, demonic. The new growth must have come from the protective spells I felt that were centered around the willow tree.”
“Is that what caused the flowers that scared you so much?”
“I wasn’t scared. Shocked. Everything came together for me at that moment. Every truth of what happened.”
“I don’t understand.”
“When I touched the willow tree, I had a vision—it was a snapshot in time, like a super short movie, but it didn’t make sense until I saw the flowers.” Moira stopped for a moment, but Rafe let her think. Then she said slowly, “All the darkness came from that cabin. A truth spell, but very dark. All the girls were mandated to tell the truth—they couldn’t lie. There was also a control there—some sort of power of suggestion. That’s what I saw at the willow tree. I saw Amy sitting alone under the tree, in a trance. No one else was there, but I felt a wave of black magic pass around me. It was a command, and when Amy heard it, she whimpered. I saw it all in an instant, but it was overwhelming. That’s why I think Carmen focused on the willow tree for her protection spell.”
“Carmen? The other staff member?”
“I thought she might be the wannabe vamp, so I pulled her files. She wrote under her religious affiliation Wiccan. She has a room in the main house, so I checked it out. No black magic, but a lot of protective spells. She was spooked by something, but I don’t think she knew specifically what because she was covering all her bases. The problem is, she’s weakening the separation of the astral plane here.”
“What about the flowers?”
“Bluebells and St. John’s Wort are used in truth spells. I suspect that whoever is responsible cast a powerful truth spell over the camp, one that summoned Astaroth’s legion. Astaroth is the demon of spies, and the spell brought in invisible demons, creati
ng a paper-thin line between our world and the underworld. The magician became a human truth detector, relying on these demon spies. The spell centered in the cabin shared by Amy and Beth, then spread throughout the camp. But it was cloaked. That’s why I couldn’t feel the specific spell at first.”
“So we’re dealing with an experienced, connected witch. She wanted the truth because she needed to be one-hundred percent certain the girls she targeted were virgins.”
“With that spell, she would know with certainty.”
“I still don’t understand where the flowers come in. Did she plant them?”
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