Mortal Sin (52 page)

Rico.

He had to believe that Rico and Nikolas had escaped; if they hadn’t, there were dead.

“Meeting spot,” Phineas said.

Rafe nodded. They moved slowly, giving the house a wide berth. “Another portal,” Rafe said. How many had these acts of dark magic opened?

“Maybe not,” Phineas said. “The ground was consecrated. Adrienne may have been able to breech the protections, but she couldn’t undo what was done.”

“We’ll need to return to make sure,” Rafe said. “But first, we help the people in Santa Louisa.”

“You want me to join you?”

“Yes.”

“After everything I did?”

“You keep saying that. Would you do it again? Can I trust you now?”

“I always wanted your trust. You… you never gave it freely. To anyone. Until Moira.”

As Phineas said it, Rafe knew it was true. “If Moira can find it in her heart to forgive you, I can forgive you.” Rafe had always been able to freely forgive. He didn’t hold grudges; he didn’t hate anyone. He didn’t understand why forgiving Phineas was so much harder.

They walked in silence, and light to the north distracted Rafe.

Moira.

“Moira’s in trouble,” Rafe said.

“She must have destroyed the circle for the exorcism to have worked.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she got away.” Rafe started toward the flickering light, centered among trees.

“Stop,” Phineas said.

“I’m not leaving her.”

“We need a plan.”

A scream echoed in the night, over and above the roar of the fire behind them. An electric charge in the air made both of them jump.

Phineas grabbed Rafe’s arm. “It’s suicide to go in without a plan.”

“It’ll come to me.” Rafe had to have faith that these memories wouldn’t fail him when he needed them most.

“Let me go around to the other side. Give me five minutes. Back-up. Remember what Rico said during training.”

Trust your brother.

He’d meant brother to be anyone in the Order. Anthony was his brother, Rico was his brother, John had been his brother. But with Phineas, it meant more. Because of their blood.

Rafe nodded. “Three minutes.”

Phineas ran, parallel to the lights, among the trees to avoid detection.

But Fiona was a powerful magician. She might already know they were there.

Rafe had to give his brother the chance to get into position. He looked to the sky in prayer. A fog hung above him. An unnatural fog filled with anguish and anger.

A chant filled the air. He couldn’t make it out, not exactly, but the hair on his skin rose.

He had two minutes to wait. He edged closer to the ritual. At first he couldn’t see anything distinct. The fog blurred his vision, making each person indistinct, but as he got closer, he saw three women in black gowns forming a triangle around a stone altar.

On the altar was another woman. Stripped naked.

Rafe’s blood raged. It was humiliation Fiona sought. Stripping all protections from Moira, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

His hands fisted. One more minute.

His mind was blank. He didn’t know what to say or do to stop this. He didn’t know what Fiona’s plan was, but killing Moira was at the top of the list.

Worse than murder. Fiona wants to torment Moira until the end of time. She wants to make her suffer. She wants her soul.

Rafe couldn’t wait a second longer.

#

Moira jerked against the ropes out of instinct. She didn’t want to give her mother any satisfaction that she was scared, but dammit, she
was
scared. She didn’t want to walk between the worlds. She didn’t want to serve her mother in death. She finally had something—someone—to live for, and dammit, she wanted to live!

Fiona and the other two chanted a binding spell. Moira had no idea what or how Fiona was going to make this happen, but if her mother believed it would, Moira believed it too. Because even though Fiona had been acting a whole lot crazy, she was still powerful.

Moira recited an ancient Jewish prayer. She had no idea what it meant, but Peter had taught it to her years ago, and whenever she was imprisoned or restrained, the prayer gave her some peace of mind. Maybe because it reminded her of her first love, reminded her that even those who were good could stumble and fall. That Peter couldn’t redeem himself wasn’t anyone’s fault but Fiona’s—and Moira had to believe that God wouldn’t punish him for eternity. Moira had to believe that Peter’s soul had been saved and was not suffering.

If she didn’t believe it, she might never have the strength to battle.

“Stop!” Fiona said. She waved her hand and sprinkled herbs over Moira’s face with a quick spell. Moira couldn’t speak out loud, but she still ran the prayer over and over in her head, while working at her binds.

“She’s fighting it,” Tiffany said.

“She has to be alive for it to work,” Fiona countered.

“Maybe you got it wrong,” Tiffany said.

Fiona roared. “I. Am. Not. Wrong!”

Definitely
going off the deep end.

Fiona put her hands over Moira’s eyes. “See, hear, feel. As it is below, it is above. Watch them suffer.”

Moira tried to fight it the spell, but her head exploded in pain and suddenly she was no longer on the altar, but in Phineas’s house. The fire surrounded her, but she felt no heat from the flames.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

She walked through the house. Screams of the dying echoed around her. Spirits flew past her, but didn’t touch her. She walked on fire, but did not burn.

It’s fake. All fake.

Phineas came to her in flames, his chest bloody, his mouth open in an endless scream. His eyes popped and melted as she watched. She turned her head, but couldn’t stop the sight of him.

Why, Moira, why?

Girls of all ages filled the living room. These were the girls Fiona had sacrificed after Moira ran away, denying her destiny. Sacrifices necessary to appease whatever demon Fiona had sold her soul to in exchange for youth.

Why, Moira? Are you so selfish that we must die so you may live? What did we ever do to you?

She ran through the house, fighting for a way out of the vision.

Help me!

It was Rafe.

It’s not real, not real, not real.

Moira, I need you. Save me.

She turned to face the man she loved. A knife protruded from his chest. Her knife. The knife that Peter had given her, that had been given to him by his guardian, that had been given to his guardian by another.

Why did you kill me? I loved you, Moira.

“Rafe!” she cried out. Her voice echoed in her ears. Her back burned with the cold from the stone altar.

Fight her, dammit!

Moira opened her eyes and looked into Fiona’s, eyes just like her own.

“You can’t control me,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I can and I will!” Fiona lifted her arms to the sky and called upon all the elements to aid her in her endeavor. The wind whipped around. Lightning cracked. The Earth shook. Rain fell.

As Moira watched, streaks in Fiona’s hair turned white.

“You’re killing yourself,” she said through clenched teeth. “You’ll die before I succumb.”

“Baal and Prziel, here is your servant, here is your master.
Amicitia ad inferos, amicitia ad inferos
,
amicitia ad inferos mea est anima tua!”

Moira convulsed as a thousand points of pain hit her simultaneously. She bucked against her restraints, breaking one of the ropes. It whipped over her and hit one of the witches. She didn’t know who, but they gasped and moved back. Moira wished she could take them all out, right now, it wouldn’t take much, and the pain would stop. She would be the one inflicting pain, a thousand pin pricks all drawing blood…

“Yes, do it,” Fiona said. “Do it now!”

 She felt the magic around her and she froze. She knew a spell, a magical incantation that would do to Fiona what she’d done to her. The overwhelming urge to hurt her mother made her shake.

No. No magic. For seven years you resisted, don’t do it!”

Was this craving Fiona’s doing? Was her mother working on a spell to force her to use magic?

You have free will. Look inside, to your God-given talents. You have the answers in your heart.

She breaths were shallow and weak, but she whispered, “
Libera me ab iniquitate.
” Fiona would not break her. She would not succumb to the urge. She’d fought against the temptation for years, fought when she was a weaker person. Today, she was strong. Inside, where it counted.

“There is no god who will deliver you,
amicitia.
”

“
Omnem principatum et potestatem et dissipationes, potestates rectores tenebrarum harum, malignos spiritus in vita, et in omni opere malo me adversus nomen Jesu Christi,”
Moira’s voice was weak. Fiona had suppressed her throat, making every word a struggle, but Moira fought to speak, fought to finish the banishment even as she felt the demons around her, trying to break into this world through the portal Fiona was creating.
“Custodi me a malo, et Spiritus Sanctus super omnes vindicabant potestatem tenebrarum regnum. Ego præcipio tibi, et spiritibus malis, et dimitte dimittere alicui malum facere in aeternum, te et me, et in nomine Domini.”

Moira jumped as a woman screamed.

“No!” Fiona cried. “You’re dead, Raphael!”

“Not today,” Rafe said.

Moira turned her head and saw Rafe as he lept to the altar and cut the remainder of her binds. The ropes had been infused with magic, turning her weak and helpless; now, her strength returned.

Tiffany Truxel had her dagger. She wanted it back. It had been Peter’s, and damn if she was going to let that witch abuse it.

Tiffany was rightfully stunned by the battle. Rafe had tackled Fiona, knocking her to the ground, then proceeded to run around the circle, tipping the candles and obliterating all symbols. The rain still fell, harder than before. Moira used the distraction Rafe created to roll off the stone and rush Tiffany. She tackled her at the knees, and the witch fell to the ground. Moira hit her in the jaw, then swore as pain shot up her arm. Wincing, she reached into Tiffany’s satchel and retrieved Peter’s dagger.

Tiffany pushed her off and started working up a spell, but Moira was ahead of her. She countered the spell, word for word. It was as if the solution had been there all along, just outside of her vision.

“You have no power over me,” Moira said. “I have free will. No one can force me to serve.”

She looked over at Rafe just as Phineas limped into the circle. “You jumped the gun, Rafe,” he said.

Rafe didn’t hear him. He had his knife out and was about to kill Fiona.

“Rafe!” Moira called. “Rafe, don’t!”

“Do it!” Fiona hissed from where she sprawled on the ground, dirty and bleeding from Rafe’s attack. “Do it and I will be so much stronger.”

“No, Rafe.” Moira couldn’t let him kill her in cold blood. She wanted him to; she wanted to kill Fiona for all the destruction and dead bodies she’d left in her wake. But not like this. They could not easily recover from cold-blooded murder.

Phineas grabbed Rafe’s wrist. “Brother. You have a choice. But there are consequences.” He paused. “I should know.”

Rafe slowly lowered his arm. Fiona laughed.

“Raphael, you are weak and pitiful.”

Rafe hit her, then got up and walked away. Phineas tied Fiona’s hands behind her back. “Don’t move.”

“I wouldn’t think of it, Phineas.” She smiled. “The Cooper brothers, together again. How very interesting.”

“Shut up,” Moira told her. “Where are we going to take her? We can’t just leave her here. But I don’t trust her with us, either.”

“We can tie her up in the barn,” Phineas said. “Can someone from Olivet come for her?”

Tiffany tried to get up, but Moira pushed her down and tied Tiffany’s hands behind her. “I don’t know,” Moira said when she was done with Tiffany. “Fiona could summon for help.”

“Not if we gag her,” Rafe said.

“Never underestimate the power of a united coven,” Moira said. She glanced around. “Where’s Adrienne?”

“She ran as soon as she saw me,” Phineas said.

Rafe walked over to Moira’s side. He pulled his torn and bloody shirt off his body and put it on her. It hung mid-thigh. Her clothes were shredded all around the clearing from her mother’s rage. He was shaking. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

Fiona slowly rose from the ground. Her perfect face was stained with dirt and blood. Her lush, curly red hair was a tangled mess, shot through with white.

“This isn’t over.”

“It’s over, Mother,” Moira said. “Sit down.”

“No, Moira, it’s just beginning,” Fiona said. “And you will never get back to Santa Louisa in time. I will win. I always do.” The ropes dropped behind her.

Moira pulled out her dagger. “I will kill you, Mother.”

“Do it, and seal your fate.”

Moira hesitated because she didn’t know if Fiona was right. If she killed her own mother, would she unleash something worse?

Her hesitation cost her.

Fiona pointed her finger and, using the parlor tricks she loved so much, ignited the circle with a flick of her wrist. White smoke filled the air and they all began to cough.

“She’s escaping!” Moira cried out. But she couldn’t see anything, and her eyes burned.

“I don’t see her!” Phineas called.

“Run! Out of the smoke!”

They did, falling to their knees in a coughing fit. Moira’s head spun. She shook it to clear it.

The smoke drifted away. Fiona was gone. So was Tiffany.

Moira hit the ground and put her head in her knees. “I should have killed her.”

“No.” Rafe sat next to her and held her. “You were right. We don’t know what would happen if we did. I don’t have the answers, but we’ll find them, together. And we’ll find her and lock her in a dungeon at Olivet for the rest of her life.” He paused. “She’s dying, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She still has power, but it’s erratic. Erratic power is dangerous.”