Carnal Sin (11 page)

ELEVEN

Rafe ran toward Moira as she flew across the alley and hit the brick wall. Intense rage and deep-seated fear filled his mind even as his instincts had him scanning the area for threats. Moira tried to rise, then collapsed. She wasn't moving by the time he'd reached her side.

Rafe glanced at the wall where Moira had been staring. There was nothing there. He'd known something was wrong, but she'd made it perfectly clear she needed space to concentrate, and his presence distracted her. If he had gotten there sooner, she wouldn't have been hurt.

Her charge is extremely dangerous and any distractions will prove fatal
.

Rico's warning came unbidden, and Rafe scowled, pushing the thought from his mind. But Rico had planted the seed, and now Rafe feared his former trainer was right.

He knelt next to Moira and checked her pulse. Strong. Rapid, but steady. Thank God. She was unconscious, though, and that worried him. "Moira? It's Rafe." Her face had a nasty scrape from where she'd fallen, and there was a bump on the back of her head. He pulled his hand from her hair and came away with a smear of blood, but there didn't appear to be a deep cut.

Dammit, he shouldn't have let her go down the alley alone!

Her knife had fallen out of her grip. He heard something behind him and quickly pocketed the dagger inside his jacket.

"Slowly move away from the body," commanded a deep voice behind Rafe. "This is the police; keep your hands where I can see them."

He hesitated. Moira's gun was partly visible.

"Now!" the cop shouted.

His back to the police officer, Rafe gently placed Moira's head on the ground, and while doing so shifted her jacket so that her gun wasn't visible. He couldn't take the chance that the cop would see him remove it from her holster. Slowly, he stood up and turned to face the cop, who had his gun drawn and aimed at Rafe.

Rafe said, "She needs help."

"Step away from the body."

"I'm not leaving her lying in this filthy alley!"

"Step away from the body," the cop repeated as he walked briskly down the alley, his eyes never leaving Rafe. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

Rafe did what the cop demanded. The cop knelt to check Moira's pulse, his gun still on Rafe.

"What happened?" the cop said.

The alley door across from Rafe opened--it was the employee entrance to the nightclub. A muscular black guy walked out. "Trouble, Detective?"

"Call an ambulance, Reggie. How long has she been out?"

Rafe said, "Two or three minutes." He started toward Moira and the cop said, "Stand back. Do you have identification?"

Rafe began to retrieve his wallet and the cop shook his head. "Back right pocket," Rafe said.

"Turn around, put your hands on the wall."

Rafe complied. The cop pulled out his wallet. "You can turn around, but keep your hands where I can see them."

"Name's Raphael Cooper. I live in Santa Louisa."

The cop's head shot up, his eyes narrowed. "Santa Louisa?"

Moira moaned and tried to get up. Rafe stepped toward her, and the cop put a hand on his chest. "Hold it, Cooper."

The detective looked again at Moira. "Moira O'Donnell," he said as he recognized her. "From the morgue." He shook his head. "Well, fuck me. I told Sheriff McPherson to stay the hell out of my case."

It would have to be Detective Grant Nelson, the lead cop in the deaths they were investigating.

"Skye didn't know we were here," Rafe said.

"I don't buy that for one minute."

Moira got up on all fours. "Please," she said, "no ambulance." She spit out saliva tinged with blood.

"Moira," Rafe said, "don't move."

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

Nelson helped Moira sit up and lean against the wall. It was obvious to Rafe he'd spotted her gun as his stance changed from helpful to suspicious.

"Tell me what happened," he demanded of Moira, watching both her and Rafe closely.

She took a deep breath, glanced at Rafe, then proceeded to lie smoothly. "I was walking down the alley and someone pushed me against the wall. I must have banged my head harder than I thought, because I went out."

"Who pushed you?"

"I don't know."

"They? How many?"

"Three boys. Older boys, in their teens."

"They just ran through the alley and pushed you down."

"They were huddled together. I think I surprised them."

"Know what they look like?"

She shook her head.

"White? Black? Purple?"

She glared at him. "White. Skinny and dressed like kids--jeans and T-shirts. It happened fast. My head hurts."

"An ambulance is on its way."

"I'm fine."

"You should be checked out."

"I said I am fine."

"Why were you here in the first place?"

"Is it a private alley?"

Rafe saw that Nelson was getting irritated with Moira's answers, so he said, "Detective, we just wanted to see the club where the kid died."

"You're not a cop. Your friend the sheriff doesn't have jurisdiction. You're interfering with a police investigation and I swear, I'm this close to taking you both to jail."

Moira paled, and Rafe wasn't going to let anyone imprison Moira again. He said, "We'll go, Detective. Sorry to have caused a problem; we didn't mean to interfere."

"Nelson," Reggie said, "the girl doesn't look too good."

The detective lost some of his hard edge. "Let's get her inside." He glanced at Rafe. "You want to help me?"

Rafe wrapped one arm around Moira, Nelson did the same on the other side, and they helped her to her feet.

"I can walk," she insisted, though she leaned heavily on Rafe. Her eyes were half closed and Rafe noticed she was trying to shake off the dizziness.

Reggie opened the employee door. "This is the break room. You can sit in here a minute."

Rafe said, "Let's get you some water."

"Cancel the ambulance. Please."

"No," Nelson said.

"Please," she said again, in her
don't-argue-with-me
tone.

"It's against my better judgment," Nelson said, then nodded to Reggie, who was back on his cell phone, shaking his head.

As soon as Moira stepped through the doorway into the break room, she felt magic. It wasn't strong, but there was enough here to have her skin tingling. She wasn't consciously searching for it; the wave hit her unexpectedly, and she shivered.

"What is it?" Rafe whispered.

"Detective," Moira said, "could I get some water?"

Reggie said, "I'll get it. I'll tell Wendy you're back here."

Damn, she didn't want to talk around the cop.

Reggie popped his head back in. "Nelson, there are two cops up front."

Detective Nelson said, "Stay here. I'm serious." He tapped Rafe's wallet. "I'm keeping this, because we're not done talking."

As soon as he left, Moira stood. When Rafe protested, she said, "I'm fine. Shaken. I had a vision. I think."

"What the hell happened out there? A ghost?"

"A demon."

He reached for his dagger, but Moira motioned for him to keep it hidden. "Not now, in the past."

"I don't understand."

"I don't, either. I thought at first it was a death imprint--everything darkened, the lights came on, and I saw Craig Monroe walk in front of me, followed by a woman. It was the same woman I had the vision about last night. The brunette."

"You're certain? The woman you thought was possessed?"

Moira nodded. She felt so cold just remembering the image of Craig Monroe dying so violently, his soul drawn out before he was gone. She sat down again to collect her thoughts.

"At first I thought she was a victim and he'd been infected. By the way he was treating her--she seemed to be willing, but he was rough and mean. She gave him oral sex, but right when ... you know ... something else happened. He was dying. He saw something in her face and he was scared shitless--I couldn't see her face, but I saw his." She shivered. "He begged her to stop, then she sucked his soul out of his body, swallowing it with her mouth. She's a demon--very powerful--but she was definitely in a human body." She frowned. "I didn't know she was a demon--I couldn't feel anything, no magic, no otherworldly power; it was like watching a movie. But when she spoke she said his soul was hers."

She hesitated, and Rafe prompted. "How did you get thrown against the wall if it was a death imprint?"

"It was the demon. She saw me."

"That's impossible."

She scowled. Rafe sounded as though he didn't believe her. "I don't know how it happened! She turned and saw me. It was unreal. Like--like maybe I went back in time. I know that's not possible--dammit, I don't know what's possible anymore! But the demon saw me, looked right at me, called me by name!"

Rafe looked as though she'd slapped him. "The demon talked to you?"

Moira couldn't stop shaking. Rafe sat next to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed. "Moira, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe now."

"Safe." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then whispered, "I don't think we'll ever be safe."

"Have you heard of anything like this before?"

She shook her head. "I started an exorcism--I knew subconsciously that it wasn't going to work, because Monroe was already long dead and the demon wasn't there, but I thought maybe the demon was just coming back to the scene of the crime, or I was in Hell or something. I don't know! But she looked at me, laughed, said I didn't understand. Called me a fool and tossed me against the wall. Didn't touch me. Couldn't." She opened her eyes. "She knew me."

"Anthony understands how demons operate. I'll call him."

"He's still on a plane to Italy."

"We'll figure it out. It could be a mind trick, a spell--something that had you seeing Monroe's death."

"She said something else, that she had to find another vessel. I think she was angry that I'd seen her victim. But I don't know the woman. I don't know where to start looking."

Moira stood, and Rafe said, "You need to take it easy. You have a nasty bump."

"I've had worse. I need to shake it off. I don't like it here." She began to walk around the room, stopping in front of the employee lockers. She closed her eyes, her hand inches from the front of each locker as she walked by. "There's magic here." She hesitated in front of the next locker. "And here." She kept going. At the end she stopped. "There's a witch for virtually every locker! But this one belongs to the leader."

"How can you tell?"

"The strength, the power. It's in her clothes, in everything she has." She looked at the name on the locker. She blanched.

"Moira?"

"Donovan. It says Wendy Donovan. That can't be a coincidence." One of the witches in Fiona's coven who escaped during the chaos when they trapped the demon Envy was
Nicole
Donovan. She had seduced a cop and had an in with the police. Information obtained by her had helped the coven elude police. Nicole had also recruited students from Santa Louisa High into the coven and had nearly killed Moira.

The door opened and Detective Nelson walked in with a stately, beautiful woman in her thirties. The woman glared at Moira. "She looks fine to me."

"Wendy, I just need a place to talk to them and find out what happened in the alley."

Moira knew that Wendy was the head witch, the high priestess, and this was her locker. Magical energy bubbled beneath the surface of the woman's skin, ready to lash out, but she kept it under tight control.

Detective Nelson handed Moira a water bottle.

Wendy said, "First you come in here making accusations against
me
and then expect me to help
you?"

"I explained I have to follow up on every lead."

"Lead? You can't think that the lawyer's death had anything to do with the club. We're already dealing with press issues because of what Kent did."

"I'm not going to publicize this. You know me better than that."

Wendy didn't look happy, but Moira suspected it had more to do with her presence than with Nelson's investigation. The negative energy coming from Wendy was aimed right at her. If she was a witch tied into black magic like Moira thought she was--and her sister was in fact Nicole Donovan--Wendy would know who she was, and who her mother was.

"Fine," Wendy said, "but we open in forty-five minutes, and I need you gone."

"Can we use your office?" Nelson asked.

"No," she said and walked out.

Moira said, "Hostile, isn't she?"

Nelson ignored her comment. "What were you doing in the alley?"

"We told you."

"I'm not buying it. Did McPherson send you down?"

"The deaths of Mr. Monroe and Mr. Erickson are connected," Moira said. "You saw the marks on their bodies."

"The coroner found no evidence of homicide," Nelson said.

"Then why are you still investigating?"

He hesitated. "Do you have evidence that proves the deaths were not natural?"

Neither Moira nor Rafe said anything. Detective Nelson looked tired and frustrated. Moira began to feel odd--the hair on her skin rose. She feared she was being watched, but when she surveyed the room there was nothing here. Yet ... she trusted her instincts. Slowly she relaxed the internal barrier that protected her senses. She allowed herself to feel the magical energy building in the air.

"We might be able to help," Moira said.

"You have evidence?" He sounded sarcastic.

Moira was taking a risk telling the outsider anything, but she didn't know how else to bring him to their side. "Does Wendy Donovan have a sister named Nicole?"

The question surprised Nelson, and the answer was clear on his face even before he said yes.

"I knew it," Moira said.

"Meaning?"

Rafe answered. "Nicole Donovan is wanted for questioning as a material witness in the murder of a priest two weeks ago."

"Ask Sheriff McPherson," Moira added.

Detective Nelson stood. "Wait here," he said. "I'll be right back."

"Don't tip them off!" Moira said.

He looked at her squarely. "I have no intention of doing any such thing, but I'm going to verify your accusation."