Original Sin

Father said, “We absolutely cannot afford to be reactive. The signs have been many, and after the tragedy at the mission-”

“What mission? What happened?”

“At Santa Louisa de Los Padres. There was a demonic ritual there that led to the murders of twelve priests.”

Her stomach rose to her throat. “Father-”

“I knew many of them.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“We were too late. Perhaps that was your vision. It happened three days ago.”

Though she couldn’t remember her vision image by image, only the overall feeling, she still recalled snapshots. “It happened tonight. A great fire, complete destruction.”

“Moira, you must open yourself to the visions. Learn to read them.”

“What if they’re from Hell? What if I’m being misled?”

“Every vision you’ve had has been of an event that is happening, not a deception.”

“That can change. They can use me to hurt people.” To hurt you.

“I will continue to research. Consult Rico, others. We can be proactive. With you, we have foreknowledge.”

“Foreknowledge? If it’s happening now, how can that help us?”

“You said that the portal was opening-which means we can stop it or close it. This is our advantage, and the only way to stop them.”

Rico had taught her everything he could during her time at Olivet, including his creed: gather intelligence, create a plan, execute the plan. It worked, and she liked the structure and preparation that went with being a demon hunter. But being given inside information? That scared her. What if Father Philip was wrong? What if Fiona and the demons were trying to deceive her? Trap her? What if Moira misinterpreted the visions? What if her mistakes cost more innocent souls their lives?

She just wanted to stop Fiona. She didn’t want-couldn’t bear-the fate of mankind on her shoulders.

Reluctantly, she asked, “What do I need to do?”

“Find where the gateway is opening. Go there.”

“How?”

“Meditate. Pray.”

Never. But Moira didn’t tell him that. She’d use more contemporary methods, starting with the Internet.

“And how do I close it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Terrific. I’ll just throw my body into the pit and battle it out to the death.”

“Do not be flippant.” Father sounded irritated. “I will find out how to close it. Let me know as soon as you locate it. I will need the specifics of how it was created and why. That might be harder to discover than its location.”

Moira closed her eyes. Everything was spiraling out of control. She didn’t want this responsibility. When she’d first accepted this mission, it was to locate Fiona, not a gateway to Hell.

But she had no choice. Fiona was somehow involved, and Fiona was her responsibility. “Fine, I’ll do it. But Father, I feel out of balance.”

“You need assistance.”

“No.” She wasn’t about to work with a partner. She wasn’t going to kill anyone again. Except Fiona, of course.

“My sweet child, your heart is broken, but your soul is intact. Give your pain over to God; you will heal.”

She snapped, “I don’t trust Him.” She didn’t buy into the whole benevolent God angle. Yeah, He was around, but it was hands off, fend for yourselves, children.

“Moira, go to Olivet and work with Rico on-”

“I’ll call when I find something.” Before hanging up, she added softly, “Good-bye, Father. I miss you.”

Moira picked up her pack, gathered her few things, and left the squalid motel room. She had no intention of returning to Olivet, not without answers. She scanned the parking lot. Slim pickings. Only five parked cars. She settled on the lone truck because she remembered the owner-he’d been drinking heavily in the greasy roadside restaurant when she’d stopped in earlier to order a BLT. She hoped he’d sleep through the sound of his truck starting up. She didn’t need the vehicle for long, just to get to a bigger town where she could use a library, find a coffee shop, and figure out where the damn door to Hell had cracked. She’d ditch it with a full tank of gas and twenty dollars in the glove box, the best she could do on her meager funds.

As she crossed the uneven concrete parking lot, the first snowflake of the season landed on her cheek. She brushed it aside like a cold tear. She wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy any white winter.

ONE

Present Day

It was the darkest hour of the night.

Fiona stood within the protective double circle that framed the perfect hexagram within a perfect triangle. Bowls of incense burned within triangles, six of which were perfectly and evenly cast between the inner and outer circles at the apex of each point of the hexagram, smoke slowly rising. Only when the fumes breached the invisible shield did the wind carry them off, swirling violently into the black night. The laws of physics did not apply to Hell’s gateway.

As it is below, so it is above.

The seventh bowl sat in the center, at the base of the altar. The trap was complete.

Her filmy, translucent white gown was unique in its meticulous and detailed silver embroidery. Woven through Fiona’s fiery hair was a knotted scarlet rope. Flames from the black candles at each point of the hexagram were virtually still, a testament to her careful preparation and growing power.

Seven of her coven stood sentry beside the seven triangles. They, too, wore white gowns with nothing beneath. Her obedient daughter Serena was at her left hand. Three men guarded the altar. And the key to the gateway to Hell lay naked upon the altar, covered with only a sacred red sheet. Abby was a beautiful sacrifice, her long, golden hair fanned out beneath her. She had no fear. She’d been taught well.

Fiona listened to Serena speak the ancient words from the Conoscenza, murmuring as if speaking to a lover. She’d searched her entire life for this book of knowledge, the book so many believed to have been destroyed. Fiona had never lost hope, never given up. And now it was hers.

Nine days of fasting, nine days of purification, nine days of denial culminating in tonight and the fulfillment of her promise. With power comes responsibility, and Fiona kept her word. With the knowledge contained in the Conoscenza, her gain would be far greater control and power over the elements, the spirits, the universe. One step closer to immortality. She saw it, tasted it, reveled in the electricity of the forces within her and around her.

As Serena spoke, her servants chanted their response. As she incanted, their voices swelled, fueling Fiona’s power. The energy grew, pulled into their sacred circle. She commanded the wind, she would command all!

This was only the beginning, and there was to be no end.

“Anoint our vessel,” Fiona commanded the three men.

Serena handed Garrett a gold chalice with a mixture of herbs, resins, and human blood. As he dipped his left thumb into the cup, Serena began to turn the supernatural key by reciting from the book. Garrett marked the vessel, ensuring that the Seven would soon be under Fiona’s command.

“As it is below, so it is above,” Fiona intoned. “For every good there is an evil, for every virtue there is a vice.”