Mortal Sin (38 page)

Kyle reluctantly agreed. “Fine. At least let me get you to Anacortes.”

“That help, we’ll accept,” Rico said.

Brody and Kyle left the room and Rafe sat next to Rico. “Who are we getting to help rescue Moira?”

“There’s no one.”

“What do you mean,
no one?
”

“We’re spread thin. With Lily at Olivet, I can’t pull Andrew. Someone needs to make sure she’s safe, and Tristan can’t handle it on his own—as well as manage everything else. No one else is close enough to get here by the morning.”

Rafe didn’t want to believe the Order was so weak. In all his years, they had never been so greatly in jeopardy.

“Our best bet is have Kyle take us to Anacortes. I have a contact there. At least someone who will be helpful in locating Phineas. We’ll need to do quiet reconnaissance so as not to spook Phineas, but you’ll have to get in, grab her.” Rico paused. “She might not be in a fighting mood.”

“Because he’s already taking her blood? I’ll kill him.”

Rico grabbed Rafe’s wrist so tight, Rafe winced. “This is why women are not allowed in St. Michael’s Order. Love is a deadly distraction.”

Rafe pulled his arm away. He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Do you think I wanted this to happen?” Rico continued. “I’ve been fighting two wars for years. Against my former friends in Gabriel’s Sword and against the protectors of Hell. I have lost friends and brothers to both. I have had to kill those who sold their souls and turned evil. I have blood on my hands, a darkness in my heart, and the gates of Hell are closer than ever before. Moira is the only bright spot in the darkness, and I would do anything to save her.”

“I know you would.” Because he loved her too. Rico might preach about the necessity of forsaking romantic attachments, but it was his deep affection for Moira that had him training her to protect herself against all dangers. Not simply because of her ability. Rafe saw it; why didn’t Rico?

Rico continued. “My contact, a young pastor who runs a small non-denominational church, has faced evil in his youth. He may be able to join us, but I’ll admit, I’m hesitant to ask him because I can’t guarantee his safety.”

“I can do this, Rico.”

Rico nodded, closed his eyes. “I’ll contact Glenn tonight.”

“You should rest.”

But Rico was thinking, planning. “You need to get Moira out quietly before Phineas knows she’s gone. He has at least six people who travel with him regularly. They will be wherever he is. He lost two people in Victoria, but we can’t assume he has less than six. Gabriel’s Sword has more than ninety members around the world.”

“They’ve grown.”

“Phineas is good at selling his vision. But his core group will never be larger than a dozen people. He doesn’t trust easily.”

“I am not my brother,” Rafe said quietly.

“Maybe not.”

“I chose St. Michael’s. Even when you told me to leave, I stayed.”

“I didn’t tell you to leave.”

“You said if I didn’t like the way you trained me, I should join Phineas and his crusade.”

Rico hesitated. “I feared you would do what your brother did.” He paused. “Phineas and I, we’d been close. We came to St. Michael’s the same year. We were raised together. You know this, Raphael. When Phineas left… he betrayed not only the Order, but me. Our friendship. Our brotherhood.”

“I understand—but he’s my brother. My twin. I can reason with him.”

Rafe got up and crossed the room. He didn’t remember anything from his early childhood. Most infants were left at St. Michael’s before they were two years old. Phineas had been nearly three when he was found at the gate. He kept repeating that his brother had been taken by a monster. A year later, Rafe had walked to the gates—scarred, wild, malnourished. Phineas knew him. Blood tests later confirmed that they were genetically brothers, of the same mother and father. Never before had twins been left at St. Michael’s, and no one knew where Rafe had been for the year he’d been missing. The island that St. Michael’s was on was large, but uninhabited. There were animals, some people, but mostly nothing but woods. Some people even believed that Rafe had been taken from the island for the year he was missing.

Rafe didn’t know what had happened to him that year. Sometimes, he had flashes of memories—of hiding. Of eating plants. Of sleeping in a dark cave. Of an old, old man who saved him from drowning—who didn’t talk, but seemed to show up when Rafe needed him the most. Rafe didn’t know how he survived; he shouldn’t have. He’d been a toddler. And he had no words to explain what had happened when he did show up at the monastery. He didn’t speak for years afterward.

“Still,” Rafe said as he considered who Phineas was and who Rico was, “while Phineas may be my blood brother, you are my true brother. You and Anthony and everyone else at St. Michael’s. I will not—ever—turn my back on the Order. Phineas’s ways are not my ways. I don’t approve of his methods. I don’t approve of when the Order hunted him down, either, but I certainly don’t approve of everything he’s done.

“I love Moira. I am not ashamed of my feelings. But they will not hinder me. I will do anything to rescue her. Because if Phineas has her, there’s a greater chance of Fiona learning about it.”

Rico frowned. “Why do you think that? Phineas is no fan of covens.”

“Because Phineas does not know how not to gloat. He’ll take Moira’s blood and use it. And
then
Fiona will know. And while Phineas is a fine and noble hunter in many ways, and a true believer in the core cause that Gabriel’s Sword shares with St. Michael’s, he doesn’t understand magic like we do. Like Moira does.”

Rafe started for the stairs.

“Raphael? Don’t sneak out.”

Rafe didn’t respond to that. He couldn’t because it both saddened and angered him.

He looked at his watch. “Seven hours, and we’re leaving.”

#

Moira watched as a half pint of blood drained out of her body. Her head was light and she was dizzy.

Phineas stood watching. “You can’t do this every day,” she said. “I won’t be much good to you dead.”

“We didn’t realize the potency of your blood, and overused the pint we took two days ago. This, however, should last us longer, now that we know how powerful it is. If you would work with us, I wouldn’t have to restrain you.”

She didn’t say anything. Maybe she’d played her cards wrong yesterday when she challenged Phineas. But she doubted he would have believed her had she said she was now loyal to the Sword. At least
she
wouldn’t have believed her if she were in Phineas’s shoes. Now, however, she was paying the price—they took more blood, weakening her, and had her tied to a chaise lounge. A bit more comfortable than the chair upstairs, but not by much. Because being tied up
really
sucked.

“What did you do with all my blood?”

“There was a black magic coven on a nearby island who was calling up demons; we stopped them.”

“If you stopped the coven, you wouldn’t have needed my blood.”

He didn’t say anything. The truth hit Moira like a hammer. She jerked against her restraints.

“You fucking prick!” she exclaimed. “You
let
the ritual happen? Didn’t you? Just so you could test your newest weapon?”

He reddened. “I really don’t like your mouth.”

“And I don’t fucking care what you like about me. Do you realize the continued danger on that island? Once the demons are brought forth, the membrane between the Underworld and this world thins. The more it happens, the thinner the line. We stop the rituals
before
they’re complete so we don’t have these hot spots.”

“It was a test. And it worked. The demons were killed, the coven destroyed, and we know our contact was not lying about you.”

“The coven destroyed? What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“
You killed them
?” Phineas had the coven murdered? In cold blood? She almost didn’t believe it. But as he spoke, she believed every word, and her blood ran cold.

“Of course not. I’m violent when I need to be, but I’m not a brutal killer. After what the women of that coven witnessed, they were half out of their minds. Their own spells were turned against them. Serves them right for summoning demons, especially for greedy, self-servicing purposes. Likely, they’re all under psychiatric lock-down. I’ve done it before, and I don’t regret it.” He paused. “Moira, we only take a human life in self-defense.”

She didn’t know if she believed him or not. “They should have a chance!”

“I always give them a chance to repent. None ever do. It’s you who are deceiving yourself. They would never have changed. They had already sold their souls to the underworld for worthless information. They are not worthy of your mercy or mine. Maybe, after time locked away, they’ll have a change of heart. That will be God’s doing, not mine.”

Phineas nodded at the guy drawing her blood to stop. “Half a pint. I hope we don’t need more.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Moira said, feeling sick as much from the information she’d learned as from the draining of her blood.

“Then you’d better hope we don’t need more.” He untied the leather bands that had bound her to the chair and handed her a glass of orange juice. “This will help.”

Her hand shook as she took it.
Damn, damn, damn.
She was in no condition to fight. She drank the orange juice. She needed the nutrients. She needed to be strong.

Phineas and his minion left, locking the door. She looked for a way out, not that she wasn’t restrained. She was in the basement. No windows and only the one door leading up to the kitchen.

Our contact was not lying about you.

Contact. Phineas had someone on the inside. How? Not many at St. Michael’s knew about her blood… except that she had reported everything to Rico. She’d told him about the Cerebus she’d killed, how they trapped the Demons Envy and Lust, she hadn’t lied. Who had Rico told?

Three months ago, Rico had drawn her blood. He’d tested it, but never told her what he was testing for or the results. Had he done it himself? Or given it to someone else? And then there was Anthony—he’d been spending a lot of time at the mission, buried in his books. He’d taken trips to St. Michael’s, returning with more anger and hatred of her. Maybe everyone there knew, and anyone could be the traitor.

But clearly, there was a traitor in St. Michael’s Order. And she’d taken Lily to Olivet to be safe.

Moire feared she’d made a grave mistake.

Rafe and Rico arrived on Anacortes at 8:30 Tuesday morning. They walked up from the dock to where a young black man was pacing in the small parking lot, looking from the water to the road and back again. As soon as he spotted Rico and Rafe, he approached.

“I was worried you were waylaid,” the man said.

“We were cautious,” Rico said then introduced Rafe. “Reverend Glenn Younger, Raphael Cooper.”

“Call me Rafe,” Rafe said and extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting us.”

“I owe St. Michael’s my life. Anytime I can help I will.”

“Did you find them?” Rico asked.

“Yes,” Glenn said. “They’re on Guemes Island, north of town across the channel. I can take you there. But I need your help—something horrific. And I can’t help but wonder, knowing that this is Gabriel’s Sword, if they’re responsible.”

Though curious, Rafe wanted to say no. Moira was in trouble.

But Rico said, “Tell us.”

“I need to show you.” Glenn led them to a white van with
Holy Cross Ministry
painted on the side. Rafe glanced over at Rico. He had a cane, but he was struggling just to keep up. Rafe didn’t know how Rico would be able to help.

As soon as they’d buckled, Glenn pealed out of the parking lot and turned onto the road. He drove along the water—any other time it would be a pleasant drive. Today, Rafe could only think about Moira. And Phineas. From the moment he knew that Phineas was responsible, Rafe had been thinking about his brother.

“My wife just came back from the island,” Glenn said. “Gail doesn’t rattle easily, but she is greatly rattled. She’s waiting for us because I know time is vital. I wouldn’t divert you if I didn’t think it was important.”

“I know that,” Rico said. “What has Gail scared?”

“Mass murder.” He didn’t say anything else for the remainder of the short drive.

A few minutes later, they passed his church and the small house next to it, but he didn’t stop. He drove down a gravel road to a short pier on the sound. A tall, young woman stood there, as pale as Glenn was dark. They were both six feet tall.

As soon as Rico got out of the van, she rushed over. “Thank you for coming, Rico. I was worried your other mission would take precedence, but we need you to see this.” She grasped her husband’s hand. “They are all dead. An entire coven, burned at the stake. It happened last night. We must hurry—I don’t know if anyone will be returning to bury the bodies, dispose of the evidence.”

They boarded the good-sized motor boat. Gail navigated. Rico told Rafe, “Glenn and Gail monitor coven activity in the Pacific Northwest and alert St. Michael’s if any group is gaining power or getting out of control. They help separate the harmless groups from the dangerous groups.”

“Your wife said someone was burned at a stake?” Rafe asked Glenn. He wasn’t sure he believed it. It seemed so… far-fetched. But he’d seen worse.

“We’ve been monitoring a local group,” Glenn said. “We thought they were harmless for a long time, but last month they successfully summoned a demon. They sent it back, but once a coven starts down that path, it never ends well. We alerted St. Michael’s and were told to monitor the situation, that they would send someone as soon as they could.”

Rico didn’t say anything, but Rafe knew what he was thinking. That they didn’t have anyone to send.

“Three days ago, the coven went to a small, uninhabited island,” Glenn continued. “Gail has been watching them. If someone killed them—”

“Phineas,” Rico said with a dark scowl.

“That would be murder,” Rafe said.