Carnal Sin (15 page)

"Watch it," Moira warned. "Everyone has a fucking camera-phone."

Grant told the crowd to back off, then turned to Nadine. "Nadine, it's me, Grant Nelson. You remember me, right? From Velocity?"

"I hate you!" Nadine screamed.

Moira didn't know whether Nadine was talking to Grant or the crowd. She watched Grant closely. He had a familiarity with Nadine.

"You know her?" she stated.

"I go to the club a lot. I know most of the staff." Grant stepped forward. "Nadine, I'm here to help you. I want to help. Step back from the curb."

"Get back! Get back!" Nadine screamed. "I can't see!"

If she couldn't see, how did she know Grant was there? Moira wondered. Was she missing something?

Nadine felt around wildly.

Grant said, "Honey, it's okay. You'll be okay, I promise. Come here, I'll take care of you."

"No! No! I killed them. I didn't mean to, I didn't know it was going to be so awful, no, no, no! Don't do this to me! Don't!"

Grant mumbled, "Shit." He said to Moira out of the side of his mouth, "Circle around the other side; I'll go this way."

"She's going to get herself killed," a bystander said.

"Grab her," Moira said. "Get her away from the traffic."

Grant moved away from Nadine's line of vision and Moira distracted her by moving in the opposite direction. "Nadine, my name's Moira. I can help you. You need to let me help you."

"I know you! I know you! No, no--" Her face twisted and she put her hands on both sides of her head, her fingernails clawing her skin, drawing blood.

Grant ran toward Nadine, but she whirled around and screamed at him. "It's your fault! Go away! Leave me! God, help me, I'm dying!"

Grant got ahold of her wrist, but she scratched his face with sharp nails and he stumbled backward, unable to keep his grip.

Moira grabbed Nadine from the other side and held her tightly around the waist. Nadine threw her head back once, twice, into Moira's face and she tripped, trying to pull Nadine back with her, away from traffic, but Nadine dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand, which was still healing from the deep cut two weeks ago.

Moira saw black. Blood poured from her nose as Nadine wrenched herself from Moira's hold and ran off the curb. Grant reached for Nadine, but the crazed woman turned and lurched headlong into the traffic, slamming against a car. Brakes squealed, but not before Nadine fell onto the pavement and was run over by a bus trying in vain to stop.

Moira screamed, her hands on her face, shaky from Nadine's quick and surprisingly violent assault. Grant wore a bewildered expression, his face bleeding from where Nadine scratched him. Bystanders shouted, some woman cried hysterically, but Moira stood stock-still. She was stunned, shaken to her core.

Strong hands from behind pulled her back. She turned and found herself in Rafe's tight embrace. She held on as if he were her lifeline, and then the tears fell.

FIFTEEN

When the irritated and extremely exhausted Grant Nelson left Moira and Rafe in their hotel room after confirming that they would be at the police station at eight the next morning, Moira turned to Rafe. "If he thinks I'm going to hole up in some stupid hotel while those witches who killed Nadine set up another victim, he's delusional."

"I expected you'd come to that conclusion," Rafe said.

She frowned. "You agree, right?"

"One hundred percent. But we need a plan."

"We read Jackson's notes; we know most of the players. I understand generally how these rituals operate." She wished she knew more about them. Her mother had never called on a succubus, though Moira had heard of the rituals. Would her limited knowledge be enough? She wished she had more time.

She crossed to the window and looked out at the lights in the parking lot below. She didn't like being this high up--she'd requested a ground-floor room, but there were none available. They were on the fourth floor. She supposed if she had to jump she might survive, but she didn't want to test the theory.

They were in a hotel, not a motel, and it was damn expensive. Moira would never have stayed here in a million years, but when Nelson gave them the ultimatum of hotel or jail, Rafe said they were planning on staying at the Palomar. It was sleek and contemporary, and Moira felt that she didn't belong. She was used to sleeping in rooms that rented by the hour, places where she could dump salt across every opening and no one would say anything. She didn't fit in this high-class environment, but surprisingly, Rafe seemed comfortable and at ease.

Moira couldn't explain Nadine's bizarre behavior, but she wasn't wholly surprised. The demon had had complete control over Nadine, but Nadine was awake during the entire possession. Demons don't eat or sleep; they feed on human souls. What could that do to a human being for a week?

Rafe had given Nadine last rites and anointed her with oil to prevent her spirit from wandering the earth lost and vengeful, but neither he nor Moira knew if it would work, or where her soul might be trapped.

Moira's cell phone rang. "It's Jackson. Finally," she said and answered it, putting it on speaker so Rafe could hear.

"Hey, Jackson, Rafe and I are both here."

"I have some information that might help," he said. "I found the chalice that Wendy's coven is using."

"You have it?"

"A photograph. I'd rather discuss this in person; it's rather complex and we need a plan."

"We
need a plan," Moira said, "Rafe and me. You're not joining this expedition to Wendy's house. You have a daughter, someone who relies on you. I'm not risking your life, too. Besides, Rafe and I are trained--"

Jackson cut her off. "I sent Caroline out of the area to stay with her grandmother. You need my help. Let me show you everything I've found and we can figure out what to do. But I think we can get rid of this thing tonight."

"Halleluia," Moira said. "We're at the Palomar. How fast can you get here?"

"Thirty minutes."

She glanced at the clock. It was just after ten p.m. It had already been a long day, and promised to be even longer.

"Hurry," she said and hung up.

"I'm confused on one point," Rafe said.

"Only one?"

"Wendy's coven uses a succubus. How would they know how to trap one of the Seven when even Fiona couldn't do it?"

Good point. Moira considered. "Fiona thought she knew how to trap the Seven one at a time. She had Lily on the altar, was going to give her body to Envy until we stopped her. Nicole Donovan was there--she must have learned the ritual. Shared it with her psycho sister Wendy."

"But the demon left Nadine's body when you were chasing her, so it wasn't trapped. Why did it allow itself to be contained at all? After facing down Envy two weeks ago, I don't think any of those bastards are going to willingly be controlled by a mortal."

Moira frowned and turned from the window. "I don't know--but since a succubus is all about sex and stealing the souls of men, maybe the demon Lust is playing the game because it amuses her. Or--" She hesitated.

"Or what?"

"In my vision she said she had to find another vessel."

"You mean, that vision that threw you against the alley wall." He stepped over so he could touch her face. She knew she must look like death warmed over after the attack in the alley and Nadine head-butting her. Her hand still stung, though Rafe had bandaged it--and kissed it--for her.

She swallowed nervously, the proximity to Rafe clouding her thoughts, and said, "She may have been drawn out and contained in another vessel."

"Spontaneously?"

"I don't know! Demons are like yo-yos. They can sometimes be pulled back to the point where they entered the earth. Like they're attached to an invisible umbilical cord that leads right back to whichever Hell's gateway they walked through."

"If that's the case, why can't we draw all of them back to the cliffs in Santa Louisa and send them back from there?"

She considered. "We may have to do just that. But Anthony is certain that if the Seven are brought together we won't be able to defeat them. There's so much we don't know!"

"I hope Dr. Lieber has the answers we need," Rafe said quietly. "We should seal the room."

"He's still there."

"Who?"

She nodded toward the parking lot before closing the curtains. "Grant Nelson. He's sitting in his car looking at this window." She accepted the bag of salt that Rafe handed her. "I'd hate to imagine what housekeeping will think when they come in tomorrow morning." She smiled wistfully at the thought. She'd accepted that she wasn't like most people--she was strange and peculiar. Usually she didn't care what anyone thought because she'd always been alone, cut off from normal people, if not physically, then emotionally. Yet now, thanks to Rafe, she felt almost like part of society ... almost. Would this invisible barrier ever disappear?

She focused on the task at hand. "You put up the crucifixes; don't forget the vents."

"You okay, Moira?" Rafe asked, concern in his tone.

"Just peachy."

They worked in silence for several tense minutes. Moira fidgeted, uncomfortable and tired and hating this feeling that she didn't fit.

"Did Nadine see you?" Rafe asked quietly.

"See me? She said she couldn't see, but it was obvious that she--"

"No, before the demon disappeared. Before the thunder."

Moira paused. "I think she saw me as I was crossing the street."

"What if the demon didn't want a confrontation with you?"

"Me? Why the hell not? I didn't stop Envy from attacking you, me, Father--" She coughed as emotion thickened her voice.

"But it could have a plan, and we weakened Envy enough for Anthony to draw it into the trap. If it thought you could do it damage--" He cut himself off.

"What? Spill it, Rafe. What are you thinking?"

"Rico wanted your blood for something. Aren't you curious why?"

"No," she lied.

Rafe just stared at her, obviously not believing her.

"One thing at a time, Rafe! I don't want to put my thoughts back there and think what might be wrong with me--"

"Why would you think anything's wrong with you?"

"My
blood?
It's just sick. I don't want to think about what he's doing." But of course she couldn't stop thinking about it now that Rafe brought up the subject. She looked down at her hand where Rafe had sliced it open and stuck it in the burning guts of the demon Envy. It hurt from Nadine's attack earlier, but nothing she'd ever experienced had been as shockingly painful as sticking her hand inside the demon.

"If it's my blood--my tainted blood--that has the answers? What does that make me? Inhuman?"

Rafe took her hand and kissed it. "Don't do that."

She shook her head and tried to pull her hand away, but Rafe didn't let go. "If my blood is the answer, then take it. We end this now."

"We didn't kill Envy; we slowed it down so it could be captured. We don't know what will contain Lust. And I'm not risking your life until we have a solid plan."

Rafe kissed her on the top of her head, her forehead, her temple. "You're scared," he whispered in her ear. "So am I."

"I live my life in fear. I know what's out there. I want to run away so badly, but there's no place to hide. I can die cowering in a dark room or I can die fighting."

"Death is not the only option."

She stared at him. He was only inches from her. "Eventually it is," she said. "Or I can join my mother and sacrifice people so I, too, can be immortal," she added sarcastically. "Did I do enough to save Nadine? I keep playing the scene over and over and don't know what else I could have done."

Rafe stepped closer and she tried to step back, but the dresser was in her way. His proximity had her hormones rushing every which way, making her confused and nervous. She turned around, facing the mirror, Rafe right behind her. The power of his gaze in the reflection held her captive.

Rafe had never met anyone outside of St. Michael's who had more internal fortitude than Moira. He'd never met anyone in or out of St. Michael's who cared as much about the fate of others. But it wasn't just what she was willing to do in this supernatural battle; Moira had an inner spark, a strength that belied her stated willingness to die for humanity. She would never go down without a fight, and she wanted to live. He saw it in the way she recognized and appreciated beauty in the world, even when they were surrounded by ugliness and evil. She gave him hope; she gave him strength; she made Rafe a better human being. Only with Moira did he feel he wasn't stumbling on the path drawn for him by St. Michael's, God, or the devil.

If Moira hadn't found him two weeks ago, he would have died. He owed her his life, but he also felt deep inside that she'd also saved his soul.

"You did everything you could, Moira." His fingers trailed up her face, gently skirting the bruises, brushing aside a curl that had escaped her hair tie. "You were faced with something you'd never faced before, and you acted because you care."

"I don't want to care," she whispered.

"It's not a choice. It's in your heart."

She cast her brilliant blue eyes downward, breaking the lock on his gaze. "I've spent my life not caring, just doing what needs to be done."

"That's a lie."

Her body tensed under his hands. Her head shot up, a flash of fire in her eyes as she glared at him in the mirror. Good. They'd need that fire, that confidence, when they walked into Wendy's lair tonight.

"You don't know me."

She tried to step to the side, but he wouldn't let her pass, trapping her against the dresser. She was going to listen to him. "You haven't spent your life not caring, you've spent your life
trying
not to care. But I know you, Moira--stop." He put a finger on her lips when she opened her mouth to argue. "I see who you really are, underneath the armor. You care, and it hurts because you can't save everyone. But still, you go on, every day, fighting a battle you didn't start, you never wanted, because it's the right thing to do. Most people ignore evil. Of those who believe in evil, few do anything but kneel and pray. Most people shy away from those in need--like those bystanders watching Nadine go crazy and kill herself. And while we need everyone doing what they can, most aren't willing to put their lives on the line to save any soul but their own. I admire you more than you can possibly know. You give me strength, Moira, strength I never knew I had."

Moira was speechless. Rafe's impassioned expression touched her deep inside, in a place she didn't know still existed. A door opened in her heart, just a crack, but Rafe's foot was in the way and she couldn't slam it shut. A door that had been locked tight for seven years, since the day Peter died.

"Rafe--" Her voice sounded rough around the edges.

He leaned over and kissed her neck, his breath a whisper across her skin. He kissed her again, lightly, moving to her jawline, a tickle, a hint of something more, a promise. Confident and unyielding even in the delicacy of his touch. His thumb brushed across her lips and she kissed it, drawing it into her mouth. He tasted salty and warm and sexy.

She gasped when his other hand moved up her shirt and pulled her tightly against him, his hand under her breasts. His firm chest against her back, his pelvis rigid against her rear, she felt both wildly free and deliciously trapped. His kisses became more urgent, against the back of her neck, to the side, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder, giving him access to her throat. He bent over her shoulder and licked her throat greedily, then stepped forward, pressing her thighs against the dresser with the weight of his body.

Moira's thoughts fell away as all she wanted was Rafe's body on hers. His legs were on either side of hers, his penis hard against her backside. His mouth on her neck, her jaw, her ear. She turned her head to kiss him, and he responded with a groan as he adjusted his position, his body mimicking lovemaking though they were fully clothed. The dresser moved and she used her arms to brace herself. Rafe had her bra undone and was kneading her breasts, pleasure winning over pain. She gasped as his thumbs rubbed her nipples, at first gently, then harder until she squirmed, her breath coming in short bursts.

There was no reason, there were no thoughts, as Rafe unzipped her jeans, his fingers slipping under her panties. This was it, she'd been apprehensive about this moment, but she was ready to risk everything for Rafe. Even her heart. She tensed, shaking, but didn't try to stop him.

Rafe slowly removed his fingers before they touched that one spot that needed attention. He eased up her zipper and used both hands to close the button. She opened her eyes and looked at Rafe's reflection. Their skin glowed with perspiration; her face was flushed. Her neck was red from Rafe's stubble, and one breast peeked out from her shirt. Rafe didn't say a word, but stepped back and rehooked her bra, unhurried, and pulled her shirt back down.

"Rafe--" She didn't know what to say.

He wrapped his arms around her, rested his chin on the top of her head and let out a long breath.