Original Sin

Rafe watched her turn abruptly from him, mumbling an excuse as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

The pain in her voice was tangible, and Rafe wanted to take it away.

Moira was wrestling with something deep inside, as insidious as a snake, twisting her as it did him. A powerful urge to protect her washed through him, followed by a desire he knew he could never act on.

Only a moment later she stepped from the bathroom and said, “Ready?”

“Let me get my shoes.”

He stepped into the adjoining room and heard a card slide into the lock. He stopped.

Moira was right behind him. “What?”

Someone swore outside the door and moved away.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She was concerned, her voice tight. She walked over to the door, listened. “They’re gone.” She frowned. “No-someone is there. Voices.” She closed her eyes. Rafe slipped on the shoes Anthony had brought with the clothing.

“Moira-”

“Shh.”

She was listening so intently, Rafe wondered if she could hear his heart beating.

Suddenly she said, “They know we’re here. We need to get out of here.” She ran back to the main room and grabbed her bag.

He followed her. “But they can’t get in. It’s safer if we stay.”

She shook her head. “Sure, we’re just fine for a while, but those guys were human. They can walk right in and do whatever they damn well please. And I don’t want to kill anyone, okay?” She frowned. “We can’t go out the door; I don’t know how many there are and they might be waiting for us to leave. The key didn’t work because they’d cast a spell on it, and at least my protections worked long enough to keep them out. The balcony-hey!”

Before she could finish her sentence, the lights went out. The emergency lights flickered on, blue and low to the ground.

“We’re so fucked,” Moira said.

TWENTY-ONE

Years of living in motel rooms and cheap apartments had trained Moira to travel light and stay packed. She had everything she needed in her bag and slung it on her back.

“Stay out of sight,” she said.

Moira crossed to the balcony and, while squatting, slowly opened the door but not the drapes. So far so good. She heard people in the hallway, guests complaining or worried about the power outage. Also good. She said to Rafe, “Stay here, by the door, don’t go out. I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Chaos. That’s a strategy that usually works.”

She ran to the door and listened again, but there were at least a half dozen people chatting in the hallway and she couldn’t distinguish the voices of the men she’d heard outside Rafe’s door. She closed her eyes, picturing the hall as she’d seen it when they first came in. They were three rooms from the end. To the left was the main hallway, and at the far end, the elevators. To the right was the staircase. The bad guys would assume they’d go to the staircase since it was closer. She hoped.

But next to the staircase was the fire alarm.

Outside her door she heard the shrill voice of a woman. “I was drying my hair! My hair is going to frizz if I can’t dry it! Kenny, can’t you do something?”

Moira took that moment to open her door and step out. The woman jumped. “Watch where you’re going!”

By the time she finished her sentence, Moira had opened the small door of the alarm and set it off.

The clanging of the emergency bells and a piercing siren trilled through the hallway.

“What are you doing?” the woman demanded as Moira stepped back into her room, shut the door, and slid both the bolt and the chain.

A swirling red light in the corner of the room had gone on with the alarm, along with a mechanical voice informing them of a possible fire and to leave the building.

“Let’s go,” she said to Rafe. “Stay low.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Ask questions later. We’re going to jump. It’s only about twelve feet.”

In case someone was watching the balcony, she didn’t want to be obvious. The power outage helped some, though the emergency lights didn’t.

“On three,” she said.

They counted together, then she pushed open the sliding glass door and without hesitating, they both ran to the far corner of the wide balcony. They jumped together, rolling to soften the fall, and then were up and running low toward the trees on the north side of the lot where she had parked Jared’s truck.

Moira kept pace with Rafe, who didn’t have all his strength back but was moving fast enough. She spotted Jared’s truck under a street light and turned in that direction, Rafe right behind her. The fire alarm faded in the distance, but she couldn’t hear any sirens. She glanced behind her and saw no one in pursuit, but she didn’t dare slow down.

She hadn’t told Rafe what she’d overheard in the hall, but he needed to know as soon as they were clear that he was in danger. The thugs hadn’t said a word about Moira but had mentioned Rafe by name.

Moira sprinted the last fifty feet so she could get the car open and started by the time Rafe got inside. Keys in hand, she clicked the unlock button and reached for the door at the same time that someone leaped out from between two cars in the next aisle. It happened so fast, while she was focused on who might be behind them, that the tall guy had an extra few seconds to grab her, and he slammed her head against the glass.

Shit! She tried to shake her head to rid it of the stars in her eyes. She was furious with herself; her instincts weren’t as sharp as they needed to be.

“Well, surprise surprise! It’s little Andra Moira,” the asshole cooed.

“Don’t say that name,” she hissed, jerking against him. He whipped out a knife and spun her around, holding the blade against her throat.

He laughed. “Your mother will be so pleased to see you again, Andra.”

Rafe watched as Moira was grabbed by the beefy thug and ran forward as if to tackle the attacker, halting ten feet from the truck when the man put a knife at her throat. Blood seeped through a cut on Moira’s forehead. Rafe’s chest burned, but everything around him stilled, his eyesight sharpened, and he focused on the immediate danger to Moira.

“Cooper,” the attacker said, pressing the knife into Moira’s flesh. “Come with me and I won’t kill her.” Blood dotted her pale skin.

“He’s lying.” Moira’s eyes were dark with fear, but her voice was steady. “Run.”

He wouldn’t be alone, Rafe knew. There had been at least two people outside his room, and someone had turned off the power to the hotel. They would be nearby. He didn’t have time to escape, nor would he leave Moira. Moira had dropped the keys when she was grabbed. Rafe had no weapon.

He said, “Let her go and I’ll come.”

“Get out of here, Rafe!” Moira ordered.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Dammit!” She was angry and fought against her attacker’s arm.

Rafe pointedly glanced to Moira’s left and saw that she understood his signal, even though they’d never trained together.

It was going to be risky, because he had to wait. Wait until the attacker’s backup was in sight in order to create a distraction.