Carnal Sin (13 page)

"You would." Moira began to reach for him, then dropped her hand, nervous.

"I don't know that I'd want to. And you know you'll be hard-pressed to survive another attack by Fiona if she can twist your pain and use it against you. She wants you dead, Moira. I don't think she's going to play around next time."

Jackson stood in the doorway and frowned. "Are you in danger?"

"No more so than usual," Moira said with a wry smile.

Rafe took the folder and sat back down on the couch, Moira next to him looking over his arm at Jackson's orderly documentation.

Jackson said, "They use traditional spells with blood and hair to create potions. From what I've learned about Azabet covens in general, they offer up one of their members to serve as the demon's vessel."

"They ask to be possessed?" Rafe asked, incredulous.

"Crazy, I know," Moira muttered. "Even Fiona wouldn't risk giving up her control, no matter what it might gain her. But sacrificing someone else? No problem."

Jackson continued. "The vessel is required to drink a potion, which marks her for the demon, and during the ritual the vessel is possessed for a specified time, usually twenty-four hours."

Moira interjected, "Because the victim is already prone to stray, he's easily seduced by the demon. After sex, the succubus steals his soul and his life, then leaves the vessel. But they have three victims racked up, and it doesn't look like they're slowing down."

"Maybe she lost control of the demon," Jackson suggested.

"What happens to the witch who was possessed?" Rafe asked.

"Sometimes she doesn't remember anything," Jackson replied. "She's often physically injured--the demon uses the body in unnatural ways. The possessed can lose their mind. I'm only aware of three of these covens operating in the world right now; they aren't common."

Moira flipped through the folder. She stopped on a picture of a brunette who was all too familiar. "This is her! This is the vessel used to kill Craig Monroe."

Jackson looked. "Nadine Anson. She's been with Wendy since the beginning."

"She's one of them! We know the demon is in her right now--at least it was. We need to find her."

"Her address is in there," Jackson said. "I believe it's near Velocity, where she works."

"We need to find her and figure out what ritual they're using to trap the demon," Moira said.

Jackson said, "I'll compile the rituals they may use to trap a succubus, but it'll take me a few hours."

"If they've trapped the demon Lust, is that going to help us?" Rafe asked.

Moira said, "It can't hurt. We have to assume that they trapped the demon Lust either by accident or on purpose. The demon is using the coven for purposes we don't know. Either way, covens are surprisingly traditional. While they experiment with new spells, when they find something that works, they stick with it."

"Maybe they were experimenting," Jackson said, "and that's why this demon is killing more than one man."

"You could be right. But first, we have to find Nadine. If the demon is still in her, we can at least contain it until we figure out what to do."

They all stood, and Jackson said, "I'll go through my notes, call a few experts, and hopefully have answers for you tonight."

"The sooner the better," Moira said.

"I understand the urgency," Jackson said as he walked them to the door. Then he added, "I owe you an apology, Moira."

She jerked her head around so fast she gave herself a pinch in the neck. "Excuse me?"

"I said some things to you four years ago that I've regretted. I should have written to you, I suppose, but I thought it would be better face-to-face, so you know I'm sincere. I expected our paths to cross long before this."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Moira said softly.

"Four years ago, I turned to Philip as my last hope of saving Courtney. I put all my faith in you when he said if Courtney could be saved, you could do it. But I'd already lost my daughter. Not a day goes by that I don't pray that she'll come home, and I'll welcome her. But it was her choice to leave, and good or bad, that's what God gave us in the Garden of Eden: free will. For better or worse." Jackson took her hands and squeezed. She swallowed uneasily. "But it wasn't Courtney who was at risk," he said, looking her in the eye. "She was already gone. It was Caroline you saved."

Moira was confused. "But--I don't understand. My arrogance sent Courtney away. I was so sure I could turn her away from black magic, but I said all the wrong things. Caroline was never practicing witchcraft. I tested her right when I arrived."

"You did everything right, everything you could considering the circumstances. You said exactly the
right
things. What you didn't know, what I didn't know either until weeks later, is that Caroline had planned on going with Courtney that night. She was packed and heard everything you said in the church hall. It stopped her from making the same mistake Courtney did. I didn't lose one daughter that night; I saved a daughter. If I had lost both of them ..." He took a deep breath. "You convinced Caroline to turn away from magic. She's in college now, majoring in psychology. I lashed out at you then because I only saw my loss; but sometimes, we don't always see the effect we have on others. I didn't see how my grief over their mother's death affected my daughters, just like I didn't see how my anger at Courtney's decision turned her against me. You tried to save her, but you couldn't because I'd already chased her away. But you did save Caroline, I believe with the help of God, and I owe you my deepest gratitude and sincerest apologies. I hope you accept them."

Tears burned behind Moira's eyelids. She wanted to argue with him; he hadn't been there, he didn't know how she'd messed up. But she hadn't known that Caroline was there.

"Of course," she whispered. "But I do take responsibility for my failures as well as my successes."

"Which is why you are as strong as you are."

"I think we have everything we need here." She handed him the folder, but he shook his head.

"Keep it. Read it over carefully, and be extremely cautious. These people are devious."

Jackson walked them to their truck. "Have you heard from Courtney?" Moira asked. "Or do you know where she is?"

"No, but I'm looking. She knows she can come home, but sometimes, we all need a reminder that God is a forgiving Father. More forgiving than I showed her before. I just want her safe, no strings attached."

It was Moira who now warned Jackson. She took his hands and squeezed. "Jackson, you be careful, too. Love is blind."

Rico returned to Olivet with a heavy heart. He didn't know why he was so uneasy. He'd known from the first report out of Santa Louisa after the demon Envy had been captured that Moira's blood was a weapon. But now he had proof. Her fate was set in stone.

He called the cardinal, who answered on the first ring.

"The test was positive."

"It worked?" His voice was calm but hopeful, as if he had doubted it even though it was his own theory that had prompted the test.

"Yes. The demon died."

But the man the demon had possessed would never be the same. The victim was in a special ward of a hospital, one that housed many victims of demons. Few recovered.

"Good work, Rico. The tide is turning."

"I think we should keep this information contained for as long as possible. You understand that if it gets out, Moira will be in grave danger."

"You explained your concerns earlier, Rico. There's no need to reveal the truth at this point, but you understand that the time will certainly come."

"She'll become a prisoner; we can't do that to her."

"It will be the only way to protect her, as you well know. When the word gets out--and it will, sooner or later--rogue hunters will want her, as well as the covens. They will double their efforts."

He knew it, and he hated it. He'd do anything to protect Moira.

"God bless you, my son," the cardinal said.

Rico hung up. He didn't feel like celebrating, and for the first time in his life he did not feel blessed.

THIRTEEN

Skye sat straight in her chair at Starbucks listening to Detective Nelson rant about her interference in his crime scene. Staring across the table at him, she decided to let him get everything out. He was obviously exhausted and running on fumes.

After he told her about finding Rafe and Moira in the alley, and how they walked out after he'd ordered them to stay put, he said, "They're damn lucky I didn't haul their asses to jail. I didn't say anything, but your
consultant
was carrying concealed, and I doubt she has a concealed carry permit for that little .38 I saw."

Skye restrained a wince. She'd warned Moira about carrying the gun, but Moira was stubborn. And she certainly had every right to feel threatened. Skye, as sheriff, had offered her a CCW permit, but Moira refused to go through Live Scan fingerprinting.
"I'm not putting my prints in your system," she'd said
.

"You could be deported if you're caught without a permit. Or put in jail."

"I'll take my chances."

"I think--"

He interrupted. "I've been working nonstop since seven a.m., when I was called to a possible homicide which may not be a homicide," Nelson snapped. "Ten hours with a sandwich on the run and not enough caffeine to keep a rat awake. I'm supposed to have the weekend off, but I already know that I'll be working for the next forty-eight hours on my own time because I have a high-ranking county attorney sitting on my ass claiming that George Erickson's fucking wife is a witch and cast a spell over him. I have a college kid who's dead but had no drugs and little alcohol in his system, and a small-town sheriff riding my ass with two sidekicks who don't obey orders!" He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "What were they doing at Velocity? I don't buy their pathetic excuse of wanting to see where Monroe died."

"Grant," Skye said quietly, "did you say witch?"

"Witch? Oh yeah, witch. I've known Nina Hardwick for more than a decade, since she was bright and shiny out of law school working for the Board of Supervisors. It sounds fucking insane, and if it was anyone other than Nina I would have sent them on their way. But Nina's not some flighty, birdbrained witness. She's one of the most respected attorneys in the county."

"This may be the cult I was telling you about."

He stared at her blankly as he gulped coffee, but Skye knew what he was thinking, because she had thought the same thing when Anthony Zaccardi had first tried to convince her that demons existed. She hadn't really believed him until she saw her best friend possessed. Until she was thrown across the room by a bolt of energy that couldn't be seen.

She continued, being patient with Nelson because she understood how he felt. "Moira O'Donnell, my consultant, would be a good person to look into this, Detective. You're right, she should have stayed and answered your questions. And I'll make sure she talks to you. Moira is an expert on this cult, and she'd be able to tell pretty quick if Erickson's wife is involved."

Nelson shook his head. "I'm not working with a civilian. I'm not working with you. I want you to leave and take your consultant and her boyfriend with you."

It took Skye a second to realize Nelson was referring to Rafe Cooper. "I really--"

He cut her off. "I
want
you to leave, but unfortunately, I'm screwed either way. So, you bring Moira O'Donnell down to the precinct at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow morning, and we'll go from there. I want to know what happened in that alley. She said a couple of teenage boys pushed her against the wall so hard it knocked her unconscious for a good three minutes. I find the whole story hard to believe.
Impossible
to believe. So if she tells me the truth about that, maybe I'll listen to her about this cult whose members think they're witches." He shook his head. "I can't believe I just said that."

"I don't think you should be working this alone--"

"I have years of experience over you,
Sheriff
, in Los Angeles, not some hick county where the worst crime is Miss Mabel stealing Miss Edith's prize tomatoes."

"Hold it right there, Nelson. I'm damn tired of your mightier-than-thou big-city-cop attitude. You need my help, and I'm not here to trample on your case or take any glory; I could care less about taking credit for this collar. The only person I care about finding is Nicole Donovan, because she's a material witness in an ongoing investigation. You can have the rest of them. But if you want any chance of finding answers, you have to open your mind. I thought that's what L.A. was all about--open-mindedness."

He stared at her. "We're a lot more close-minded than people think. If--shit, what is it?" He pulled his ringing BlackBerry from his pocket. "What?" he answered. His face changed. "Are you one hundred percent positive? ... Meet me at her condo and don't go in until I get there." He hung up. "Bring me Moira O'Donnell and we'll talk."

"What was that about?"

"Fingerprints all over George Erickson's bedroom belong to one of the waitresses at Velocity." He grinned humorlessly. "Murder or not, she walked out and didn't report a death. I'll find out if it's connected to Craig Monroe. One thing I'm good at, Sheriff McPherson, is getting answers." He stood. "Eight a.m. Tomorrow. If O'Donnell and Cooper aren't there, I'll have them arrested."

Skye watched him walk out and then she called Moira. Rod was on his way to pick her up so they could head back to Santa Louisa. When Nelson had called her about Moira and Rafe, she'd taken a cab to Westwood and met the detective at Starbucks while Rod continued his research at the morgue.

"What's up, Sheriff?" Moira answered.

"I just had my ass chewed out by Grant Nelson. Why did you leave when you were being questioned? You're really screwing with my authority."

"We had to--there're witches at Velocity, and they were working a spell. Did you see Nelson? Is he okay?"

"Tired, irritated, and hungry, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary."

"Good. I didn't know what they were doing exactly, but it seemed to be aimed at him. I figured they were working to have him arrest me."

"Can spells do that?"

"If the magician's any good. It's something like mind control, but not."

Skye shook her head. Talking with Moira could be exhausting. "I promised him you and Rafe will be at the police station to finish your conversation tomorrow at eight a.m."

"I'll try--"

"You'll be there or he'll put a warrant out on you. And leave your gun in the car--you're going to get me in trouble, and yourself deported."

"I'm sorry, I understand, but--"

"I don't think you do. You run around like the law doesn't apply to you. I'm trying to help, but you make it extremely difficult!"

"Skye, what's wrong?"

Skye took a deep breath. "I have to go back to Santa Louisa. The D.A. let Elizabeth Ellis out of jail."

"What? He can't do that!" Moira said. "I should have done it my way."

"That's not the answer, and you know it. Besides, Ellis is not the one we need to worry about. Let's get these seven bastards back where they belong and worry about the human problems later. Hank and Jared are keeping a close eye on Lily. They took her to my house, and I'll be there with her tonight. But right now you have to promise me, swear on a Bible if you have to, that you'll be at the police station to meet Nelson at eight a.m. tomorrow morning and tell him what he wants to know."

"He wouldn't believe the truth."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Skye--"

"Dammit, Moira, this is serious."

"All right."

"Promise?"

"I said yes."

"Did you check out the houses?"

"Yes--Galion's is locked up tight, gated, the works. I didn't sense anything, but we didn't go inside. I don't think there's anything strange there. Stephanie Frazier, ditto. The roommate was there, Rafe sweet-talked his way inside; I sensed nothing. From her house or her roommate."

"I thought it was a shot."

"We also met with a friend who has some information about Wendy Donovan and her cult, and we're going to follow up on that."

"Nelson just got a call about evidence in the Erickson case."

"What kind of evidence?"

"Prints all over his bedroom."

"Whose?"

"I don't know, one of the waitresses at Velocity. He's not exactly my best friend right now. He's keeping me in the dark until you come in. But he also has
another
witness named Nina Hardwick, who claims that Erickson's wife was a witch. He didn't believe it, but I think I convinced him that maybe it's the same cult we're both investigating. He's considering it." Skye rubbed the back of her neck and looked out the window. Young men and women dressed in anything from jeans and designer shirts to skimpy dresses and pressed slacks passed her on their way down the street to one of the many clubs, including Velocity.

"Where's the detective now?" Moira asked.

"On his way to the suspect's apartment."

"Alone?"

"He's meeting his partner. What's wrong, Moira?"

"You have to stop him. I know who killed Craig Monroe. It was Nadine Anson, one of the club's waitresses, and she was possessed. If that's the same woman who was with Erickson last night, that puts Detective Nelson in danger."

"Explain."

"I don't have time! I have her address."

"Hold it, Moira! How do you know who killed Craig Monroe?"

"I saw it. I can't explain how, but you have to trust me, Skye."

This situation was getting out of control. Skye wished she didn't have to leave right now. But honestly, how could she stop it? She had to focus on what she did best: being a cop. She could protect Lily. She couldn't battle demons.

Skye said, "Moira, put a lid on it with Nelson. He's a good cop, but this case is getting to him."

"I'll be good."

"Check in with me. Often."

"Roger that, Sheriff," Moira said lightly and hung up.

Skye pocketed her phone and waited for Rod Fielding. She hoped she'd made the right decision to go back to Santa Louisa.

She had a sick feeling she was leaving Moira and Rafe to the lions.