Original Sin

Another rash act. Fiona’s going to the jail early this morning in her attempt to kill Moira had been particularly unwise. Now Moira knew for certain that Fiona was nearby, and probably Anthony Zaccardi did as well. The coven had been protected here in Santa Louisa partly out of ignorance-St. Michael’s Order didn’t know where they were. But now it was only a matter of time before hordes of witch hunters descended on the town and their efforts were hampered. She didn’t want to leave and stake out new territory-Santa Louisa was perfect for their purposes for many reasons.

After the failure to apprehend Rafe at the abandoned cabin, Fiona sent out her Third Eye again, but Rafe seemed to have learned how to shield his aura from exposure-a difficult and almost impossible task against Fiona’s psychic eye. Whether she was conscious of it or not, Serena didn’t know, but the more Fiona tried to find him-and failed-the more irritable she became. Now she was on the verge of exploding.

“The ingredients need to sit.” Serena put a clear crystal into the bowl and recited the spell that summoned Prziel, the demon of lost enemies, and trapped him in the crystal. Once the crystal glowed red, Prziel could be used to find nearly anyone, though he was primarily used against enemies.

Fiona paced. “When I get my hands on Raphael Cooper, he will understand true pain. If he thinks he can walk away with what I need …”

“He doesn’t know what he has locked in his mind,” Serena interrupted.

Fiona whipped around and angrily shot an electric charge at Serena. Used to her mother’s mood swings, Serena held up her hand and sent the charge into the fish tank. The water sizzled and steamed, and in seconds more fish were floating on the surface. Dammit, Margo had just put in the new fish three hours ago.

Fiona barely noticed. She whirled around and peered into the mirror, inspecting her perfect skin with a critical eye.

“We have the arca back,” Serena reminded Fiona.

“But we don’t have the Seven and they’re becoming stronger. I need them under my control before they gather so much strength even I can’t control them. We don’t have the time to screw around. I’ll pull the information from Raphael Cooper’s mind if it kills him.”

It likely would, and if it didn’t, Fiona would find other ways to torture him and make him beg for death.

Serena didn’t want Rafe to suffer, but he’d made his decision when he fought them ten weeks ago at the mission. There was nothing Serena could do to end Fiona’s wrath. If only the process had been completed then, they would have had the Seven under their control the night of the fire on the cliffs when they first opened the gates. But Rafe had led Anthony Zaccardi to Santa Louisa. The demonologist’s presence had forced them to be cautious, lest he discover them. They’d been smart, and while he was suspicious and had walked the ruins nearly every day, he hadn’t figured out why he was suspicious, and that enabled them to continue their work.

But Moira had somehow tracked them to Santa Louisa. Fiona thought Moira was weak, foolish, annoying-a pest, a gnat to swat dead. Fiona wanted to torment her for fun and revenge, but didn’t consider her a real threat.

Serena suspected that Fiona underestimated Moira.

Serena had once dreamed that she and Moira would band together and defeat their psycho mother. Together, they would be more powerful than anyone could imagine. But Moira didn’t want to run the coven and had turned her back on their gifts.

Serena desperately missed her sister, loving and hating her at the same time. Did Moira ever think about her? Did she remember that there was a time when they were best friends? Did she know that it was Serena who put a magical shield around her so Fiona didn’t know she’d slipped out? Did Moira know that Serena had saved her life?

Serena stared at the glass bowl. The clear liquid began to bubble, though it was nowhere near a source of heat.

“I need his blood,” she said.

Fiona walked over to the locked mini-fridge behind her desk and typed in the secret code. She didn’t trust anyone, even Serena, with that information, though Serena had broken the code many times. Fiona always underestimated her, just as she underestimated Moira. It pleased Serena to have so many secrets from the sorceress, the one who believed no one could lie to her.

Fiona handed over the small test tube of Rafe’s blood that Richard had obtained for them. They had only a few left-in a rage, Fiona had once fried the fridge, destroying everything inside. They were still rebuilding their supplies.

Serena held up the tube of Rafe’s blood, opened the stopper, and chanted the words she knew by heart, a spell she had perfected. Few witches today did anything but what the old books told them; Serena could write her own grimoire with powerful, original spells. She understood more than even the most seasoned of witches, more than Fiona herself, though Serena wouldn’t say that out loud.

She dripped two drops of Rafe’s blood into the potion. “As it is above,” she said, adding two more drops, “it is below.” Two final drops were added and she sealed the tube. Fiona took it from her but didn’t return it to the fridge. She, too, was entranced by the metaphysical reaction in the bowl.

The clear liquid turned blood red, bubbling and churning. A whirlpool began to move faster and faster, and the table the bowl rested on began to shake violently. Serena held the sides of the bowl so it wouldn’t crash to the floor, the liquid warm but not burning.

She chanted the name Prziel over and over and suddenly the shaking stopped; the potion settled and returned to its clear color. At the bottom of the bowl, the crystal, now red, glowed.

Serena removed the crystal with iron tongs to prevent the demon from escaping into her. She carried it over to a map of Santa Louisa County and put it down, spinning it gently with the tip of the tong.

“Find him, find this blood,” she commanded the demon.

The crystal moved across the map. It started lazily, then began to spin faster like a child’s top, all over the map. Faster, faster, faster, until it spun itself off the table and across the room, hitting the wall with enough force to embed it inside the wood.

Fiona ignored the trapped demon and looked at the map. “There!” she announced excitedly.

One blood-red drop told them that Raphael Cooper was at the Santa Louisa Coastal Inn.

Rafe pretended to be asleep when Anthony arrived in the two-room suite. Moira was arguing with Anthony.

“Don’t wake him. Give him an hour, at least, okay?”

Movement at the partially open door. Rafe felt it was Anthony, making sure he was both alive and present.

“Did you seal both rooms?” he whispered.

“Of course,” Moira snapped. “I’m not a complete novice.”

“No, you’re not.”

It wasn’t a friendly comment.

Rafe breathed a sigh of relief when Anthony didn’t try to wake him. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to Anthony-he wanted to see his old friend. But he felt safe here, at least for the time being. Safe enough to try to organize his thoughts before Anthony bombarded him with questions. Moira already had many; Rafe had seen them in her brilliant blue eyes.

Moira had insisted he lie down while she sealed the rooms against demons and witchcraft, but he watched her. She was meticulous, pouring salt, reciting prayers as if they were spells, not leaving any edge unprotected. But while demons couldn’t come in, and spells couldn’t attack them, both he and Moira knew that the protections were mere stopgaps in the battle. A temporary fort that could be breached with time and strength.

He prayed silently in the dark, blocking out the loud whispers of Anthony and Moira in the room next door. A verse from the Book of Sirach came to him, and he shuddered:

there is anger and envy and trouble and unrest,

and fear of death, and fury and strife.

And when one rests upon his bed,

his sleep at night confuses his mind.

Sleep … how could he sleep? He’d been in a state of sleep for ten weeks. Ten weeks of a coma? A drug-