Original Sin

tried the same prayer she’d used before, and one of the demons evaporated. The other two still came at her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large, solid demon wrenching itself from the old, moldy brick walls. The building shook around her and Moira flashed on the image of killing the demon the same way Dorothy took out the Wicked Witch of the West, dropping this building on him. Except that she’d be under the house, too. She would have laughed but she had both her hands full-one with holy water, the other with her blessed dagger.

She flicked holy water onto the weak demons in front of her and both of them dissipated.

That seemed too easy.

Noise at the top of the stairs distracted her. A stranger was running toward them and Moira at first feared he was another witch. He stopped and stared at the destruction of the basement and the charging demon.

“Watch out!” the man cried.

Moira whirled around as a hoofed demon, looking much like a deformed mythological centaur, charged her.

This was no earth demon. It was a corporeal demon, no question about it. Straight from the pits of Hell and smelling as vile as a decomposing corpse on a summer day.

Moira backed up, reaching into one of her pockets and pulling out a vial of sacred chrism. She broke it across her blade, coating the iron with oil that was poison to demons. A sliver of glass from the vial cut her finger, but she pushed back the sharp pain, which was far less important than imminent death at the hands-hooves? — of an ancient demon.

The demon spoke a language she didn’t know, and she didn’t ask for a translation. It rushed her and she deliberately fell to the ground, to urge the demon to run over her. It reeked of rotting flesh and black magic, and she could scarcely breathe. She stabbed her arm out and into the underbelly of the demon, slicing its guts open with her oily dagger.

One hoof stomped her in the thigh and she screamed, but her voice couldn’t be heard over the agonized high-pitched cry of the tortured creature as it hit the wall. She jumped up, shaking out the pain, thankful her leg wasn’t broken, which would have been icing on the cake of this shitty day.

The demon centaur was bubbling ooze as it liquefied in front of her, steam rising from the remains. The ooze stunk worse than the demon itself.

Was it dead? Dead? As in no longer in existence in this world or the underworld? Impossible. Its form was dead; there was no way to annihilate a demon.

“Holy shit, what the fuck was that?” Jared asked.

The demon inside the trap was surprisingly silent.

“What did you do to … it?” the stranger asked.

She looked at her dagger almost as if she’d forgotten it was there. The demon’s blood-if it could be called blood-was black. It dripped from the oily knife until the knife was clean.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked.

She turned to him, careful to keep a fair distance. He was in his forties, tall and attractive, with short, sandy hair and a solid, square jaw to match his solid, square shoulders. He wore a white button-down shirt and jeans.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he said. “I’m Matthew Walker. This is my church. Or-it used to be.” He looked pained. “We need to get out of here.”

“You’re the pastor who left last summer?”

“Sheriff McPherson called me earlier today and told me someone was defrauding my congregation. I got here as fast as I could.”

The demon in Ari began to laugh.

“Let me help,” he said.

“You’re an exorcist?” she asked skeptically.

“No, but I’ve assisted in exorcisms.”

The demon continued to laugh, and Moira felt the energy building again.

“Matthew Walker,” the demon hissed.

Matthew jumped and began a prayer.

Moira continued her exorcism and Matthew said a parallel prayer in Greek. While she recognized the sound of the language, she didn’t understand most of it. But the dual exorcisms seemed to be working, faster than she expected. The demon stopped laughing almost instantly, and Ari’s body began to convulse. Within minutes, the demon screamed and left Ari’s body in a tornado of smoke. Ari collapsed.

The energy in the room had stabilized but not disappeared. “We have to destroy the altars Ari set up,” Moira said.

“I know where they are,” Jared said. “I’ll do it.”

“Be careful.”

“You mean you’re not coming with me?”

“I trust you. Just-later, we need to talk about you and this.” She gestured toward Ari.

“I’m sorry, Moira. I wanted to help.”

“I know you did,” she said, understanding Jared more than he knew. “Once the first altar is down, it breaks the vortex, so get to the easiest location first.”

“Got it.” He started up the stairs.

Matthew walked over and felt Ari’s pulse. “She’s okay, but we should call a doctor.”

“Can you stay? I need-”

“Well, hello,” a voice bellowed from the top of the stairs. “I’m-surprised to see you both here.”

Garrett Pennington walked down the stairs, pushing Jared in front of him.

Matthew stepped in front of Moira in a protective gesture. It gave her the opportunity to quickly assess the situation. Pennington didn’t have a weapon in hand. That gave her the edge. Though a woman, she played dirty when warranted. And three against one? Was Pennington a fool? He had witchcraft on his side, but the numbers benefited the good guys this time.

“Who are you?” Matthew demanded.

Pennington raised his eyebrows and touched his chest mockingly. “You don’t know me?”

“Are you the bastard who did this”-Matthew waved his hand toward the altar-“to my church?”

“Church? If you want to call it that.”

Matthew stepped toward him, and Moira put her hand on his arm. “Watch it. He’s a witch. Or, I suppose, technically a wizard.”

“I prefer magician,” Pennington said.

“I prefer you get the hell out of my way,” Moira said.

“You’d be insane if you thought I’d let you walk out of here. Fiona will be thrilled to see you again.” He continued down the stairs, pushing Jared hard to the ground.

Moira said to Pennington, “Listen to me. We have a problem here. Ari created an energy vortex and it’s still here.”

“She’s unconscious,” Pennington said. “It’ll dissipate soon.”

“No, something else is drawing it in here and it’s probably something in your office or behind your altar, asshole, or she created a loop of some sort, because I feel it. If we don’t stop it, a hole is going to be punched into the underworld, and I don’t think Fiona wants to spend her time battling wayward demons celebrating newfound freedom when she’s trying so desperately to recapture the Seven.”

For a moment, Pennington waffled. “How do you know that will happen?”

“What good are you if you don’t know? Seriously, how do they train you guys? I’m not even using magic and I can feel the charge! Dammit, I’m not fucking with you! Call Fiona if you don’t believe me!”

“Let’s go, then.”

“We can’t leave her here,” Moira said, pointing to Ari.

“Why not? She created the problem in the first place. She should have to suffer the consequences.”