Mortal Sin (40 page)

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

He just smiled. He didn’t believe her.

But she took advantage of the time to explore the house, check out every room, every door, imprinting the exits in her memory. Some were locked. She didn’t feel any magic. The blonde—Adrienne she learned—must have suppressed it and not used her skills anytime recently. Why? Could she also be a repentant witch? Or was she truly in deep cover for Fiona?

She had to convince Phineas that he had an enemy within. Force Adrienne to reveal herself.

Phineas had protected the house well against demons and dark magic, but with a traitor inside, those protections could disappear without him noticing. She checked and double checked the vents, the outer doorways, the windows. She looked out—it was light out. Blue skies. How many days had she been here? At least two nights. Maybe three.

A clearing surrounded the house—easy to see anyone approach—and a lone driveway disappeared into dense trees. They did appear to be in the middle of nowhere, and she had no idea what was close to this nowhere spot.

She almost turned away when she saw Adrienne exit via the front door. She talked to one of the others, laughed at something he said, then headed toward the side of the house.

Moira ran to another room, down the hall, and found an unlocked door. She didn’t know whose room she was in, nor did she care. She went to the window and saw Adrienne feed chickens in a pen. Then a raven, black as death, flew over and perched on one of the fence posts. Adrienne turned to the raven and spoke. A minute later the raven flew away.

Oh, shit.

Moira started to recheck all the demon traps on the upper floor, in the rooms she could access, but realized that anything she did was fruitless. If she was a conniving, traitorous witch, she’d use her own room. In her private space, she could destroy any protections without Phineas or anyone else being aware. The demons would literally come from inside. A Trojan horse.

Moira had no idea what room was Adrienne’s, and it would take her too long to search. Too many of the doors were locked. She went back downstairs to look for Phineas—maybe she could convince him. She had to find a way. Not only was she in danger, but Fiona wouldn’t spare anyone in Gabriel’s Sword. She despised rogue hunters almost as much as those affiliated with St. Michael’s.

She found him in the living room.

“I know how to ward a house,” he said from the doorway. “But I’m glad to see you care about such things.”

He’d been watching her. Had he seen her looking out the window at Adrienne?

“Of course I care,” she said. “This is my life you’ve put in jeopardy.”

“I have no intention of getting you killed, Moira. In fact, you’ve proven that you’re the most important person in this battle.”

“We’re all important.”

“Yes, to God we are, but in
this
battle, some are more valuable than others. You should not be allowed to risk yourself every day. You should be protected from the fight, cherished.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you die, your blood dies with you. Alive, you can fuel an army.”

She was finally beginning to understand, at least how he thought. “Phineas, I don’t think you know what we’re facing out there.”

He scowled, his face darkening in anger. A sudden switch. Damn, she should have stroked his ego more. Coddled him. Praised him. This guy was a narcissist. Did he really believe he was some sort of savior? Riding out into battle to save mankind? He was out of his mind.

“I know better than most,” he said. “I’ve lost people, just like you. I know what is at stake. That’s why I lead Gabriel’s Sword.”

She pushed. “Do you
really
know what’s at stake? Do you believe I’m only valuable because of the blood in my veins? I understand dark magic. I know it better now than I did when I was a practicing witch. I see the spells, know what’s happening before it happens.”

He shrugged. “You’re psychic.”

“No—”

“You deny it, but you are. I’ve seen the signs. You knew I was coming to the hotel basement before I arrived.”

“I have good instincts.”

He laughed. “Hardly, Ms. O’Donnell. I agree, you are valuable to the cause, and that’s why I want you on my side, where we can actually do good instead of simply putting a Band-Aid on problem after problem.”

“I think you have enough problems in your own organization. You shouldn’t worry about St. Michael’s.”

“The loss of Robert and Frank was troublesome. But they’ll get help. They’re alive.”

That wasn’t what she meant. She hesitated telling him about the traitor. How would he take it? He might turn against her. Lock her up again. Worse, restrain her.

If she didn’t tell him, and she was right, then they were all in danger. She couldn’t do that. Even though they weren’t on the same team, they were ultimately on the same side. She had to make him see.

“I am extremely sensitive to magic,” she said cautiously.

“I saw you on Sunday. I was truly impressed. You don’t have to convince me of your value.”

“
Extremely
sensitive,” she repeated. “For example, on the plane to Olivet, I knew that two of the girls were Wiccans. They had played around with a few relatively harmless spells, and nothing recent. But when I passed them in the aisle, my skin pricked. And I simply
knew
that they had magic their veins.”

He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded in front of him. Was he genuinely interested or suspicious?

“I can usually tell when someone is under a spell or has been cursed. I can feel the spell and know how to counteract it, without using magic. It’s more like deflecting the spell. Using sacred objects, like my dagger, to fight.”

“Again, an extremely valuable talent.”

“I know that there is a witch in this house.”

She stared at him, waiting for a reaction. His face was impassive. “You’re lying, Ms. O’Donnell.”

“It’s Adrienne.”

He laughed. “Adrienne has been with me for nearly two years. If she were a witch, I would know.”

“Not only is she a witch, but she’s a practicing witch. I wouldn’t care if you believe me, except my life depends on it.”

“Are you saying she’s put me under a spell?” He slowly rose from his chair.

“No. She’s too smart for that. You would sense it. You’re not an idiot.”

“What praise.” There was no humor in his voice, not anymore. His eyes narrowed.

“This whole thing—Phineas, it’s a trap. For
me
.” She hit her chest. “Fiona wants
me
. She needs me, but more than that, I was disloyal. She’ll do anything to put me in a dungeon again. To torture me before she kills me. She enjoys toying with her prey.”

“You are safe here, Moira.” His voice was firm, angry, and his eyes darkened. “I see what you’re doing. You want me to change my methodology to throw me off guard, enable you to get the upper hand. To create friction between me and my people.”

“I swear to you, Phineas Cooper, Adrienne is a witch, and we’re not safe here. She’s already alerted Fiona through a messenger. A crow. I saw her. Check her room. She probably removed all demon protections so they have a way inside.”

“If Fiona is stupid enough to come here, she’ll deserve the punishment she receives.”

“You have no idea how powerful she is.”

“We have the power of righteousness on our side!” he shouted. “I will prove once and for all that St. Michael’s needs me. They’ll regret banishing Gabriel’s Sword. But you’re wrong about Adrienne. I’ve had enough of this, Moira.”

“At least give me my dagger back.”

“So you can stab me in the back?” He shook his head. “You’ll have to rely on me and my people to protect you should any witch attempt to break our barriers.”

“Then I’m as good as dead—and so are you.”

He grabbed her left arm and squeezed. “You will be grateful for my protection. My wisdom! No witch has breeched my walls. We are powerful, and you will not pit me against my brothers and sisters, you heathen.”

“You’re a narcissistic fool.”

His slapped her so suddenly she almost didn’t see it coming and had no time to jerk her head away. The sting of his hand burned her cheek as tears burned to her eyes. But she refused to let this man see her cower in fear. She wasn’t scared of him; she was scared of what his ignorance would bring down on her and everyone else.

His eyes widened and he dropped her arm and stepped back. He stared at her.

Moira had screwed up. She didn’t understand him, and she’d gone about this big reveal all wrong. She should have found another way. If she had more time, maybe she could have tempered the information. Found physical, tangible proof.

“Phineas,” she said quietly, “I can prove it if you’ll give me a chance.”

He turned and walked out.

He hadn’t believed her. She hoped she’d instilled enough doubt that he would at least check Adrienne’s room. Moira hoped she was right. What if Adrienne was
that
good at being undercover? What if it wasn’t demons but Fiona herself who was coming to this house?

Moira paced, checked and tripled checked all the security in the room. Phineas had locked her in and there was no way she was getting out. The windows were double-paned, and even if she were able to break them, the steel frames were too small to crawl through. She searched the room for a weapon, any weapon. There were none. Not even a flimsy letter opener in the desk.

A key slipped into the lock fifteen minutes later. She whirled around, expecting a battle.

It was Nikolas. He had a tray.

She didn’t want to hurt him, but behind him was the door. Which he closed. He had something in his hand under the tray. “Moira?”

“I’m not hungry.”

He said, “I only have a minute before anyone will be suspicious of the glitch in the security feed. I heard what you said about Adrienne—I was monitoring the security room.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“I think you’re right. I can’t explain why because I don’t have time.” He crossed the room and placed the tray on the desk. “When you take the lid off the plate, put your back to the camera. Your dagger is under the sandwich.”

“If you believe me, you need to convince Phineas.”

“I will try, but I can’t be direct. Phineas is a good man, and he’s intensely loyal. Adrienne risked her life for him, more than once. He will not believe she’s one of them without seeing it with his own eyes.”

She noted whatever was in his hand he put in his pocket, then shook his head ever so slightly. “Enjoy your sandwich. Tomorrow will be a long day.” Then he left, locking the door behind him.

Monday had been mostly a waste—Skye found herself solving one problem and then faced with ten more. Skye hadn’t been able to reach Rafe to ask him about the triad and the church fire; Anthony had nightmares the night before, even while in the induced coma. She’d called Rod—woke him up—and he told her to let him be. Anthony was larger-than-life; everyone noticed when he walked into the room. Now, he was weak. Helpless. And if they took him out of the coma, he’d most likely die.

Jared was staying at her place, and she couldn’t express how much she appreciated it. “It’s your senior year, I hate that you’re missing school,” she told him as she poured coffee into a to-go mug.

“My grades are solid, and finals aren’t for two more weeks. And if we don’t fix this, more people will get sick. We may not even have a graduation at that point.”

Skye hadn’t thought that far down the road. For six months, she’d been in crisis mode, solving first one problem, then the next, then the next… Tthey kept coming and she couldn’t think about the
what ifs.
What if they couldn’t capture Wrath? What if Rico and Moira never returned? What would happen to Santa Louisa? To the people she cared about? To Anthony? To Skye herself?

She couldn’t think about tomorrow at this point when today had so much shit happening.

“Let me know if you have any problems,” Skye told Jared before she left. “I’ll try to get someone to relieve you.” Though other than her, she didn’t know who. Rod was already stretched so thin she thought he’d break and quit. She didn’t want to add any more to his plate.

She didn’t get to the station until after ten in the morning. That was largely because she’d been working there until dawn. They were short staffed, partly from injuries and partly because she’d had to put two of her deputies on leave out of suspicion that they were marked. One had beaten a suspect nearly to death. It wasn’t that the guy didn’t deserve it—he’d been looting after the hostage situation at Floyd’s—but it had been too much, and now the suspect was in critical condition. Another deputy had thrown his computer across the bullpen. His partner said he was frustrated because he couldn’t get information on a case he was working.

Definitely anger at work in her town. She could feel it wherever she went, a subtle undercurrent that made her alternately depressed and angry herself. She buried those emotions as best she could because if she lost it, who else was there?

The other issue she was going to have to deal with sooner rather than later was state law enforcement. She was sending an unusual number of suspects to the state penitentiary. They were violent and kept in isolation, but already one had died in state custody, and she couldn’t very well explain it was because he’d been infected with a demonic virus and was acting angry because he was naturally an angry person. A lot of criminals were fueled by anger—the prisons were already filled with them. But what else could she do? The Santa Louisa jail wasn’t big enough and Rod had already used up all the beds he could in the psych ward. Dr. Charles Wicker had proven to be a help there, but if they didn’t figure out where this demon was, and trap him, their town would be destroyed. And if it this spread beyond Santa Louisa? What then?

Dammit, Moira! Why did you have to leave now?

As soon as she walked into the station, Hank approached, a grin on his face. “I got her.”

She perked up as she poured more coffee into her to-go mug. The station coffee wasn’t close to being as good as her home brew, but she needed more caffeine. “Brianne Graves?”