Original Sin

shit. It was a lot of hopes and dreams and ifs. But other than them, who else was there? Skye was a cop, not an exorcist or demon hunter. Bullets would do nothing to a demon, but would certainly kill the victim.

“Father, what is Serena saying?”

He whispered, “Pure evil from the Conoscenza.”

“What language?”

“The language of demons.” He looked at her. “Only you can destroy the Conoscenza.” Tears sprang to his eyes.

It dawned on her slowly why only she could destroy it. “Because I’m a witch,” she said in shock, her eyes burning. “Is that how you see me?”

“No, child, I only see you through eyes of love.”

An armoire fell over, and Moira jumped. She had to get out of these restraints. She could do nothing trapped like an animal.

She saw the broken glass from Father’s lenses. And the twisted wire frames.

She glanced around. The witches were all chanting and concentrating while Serena continued her summoning ritual. She scooted over inch by inch until she could reach the frames, then discreetly palmed them.

Father Philip saw what she was doing and helped shield her hands from the surrounding coven. As they huddled together, the air in the room heated and swirled around the demon trap.

Moira snapped off the side from the frame, still watching the coven. She carefully worked the shaft into the manacle lock. Dammit, it wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be.

Father continued his praying, and Lily moaned. “Moira,” she sobbed. “I feel something. Something is coming for me. Help me, please. Please. God, please!”

Her cuff opened. The movement was subtle, and rather than immediately jumping up, she started working on Father Philip’s restraints. “How do I destroy the Conoscenza?” she whispered. “Is it here?”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen it.”

“How?”

“Blood and fire.”

She shivered. “That sounds like something they would do.”

“You’re not sacrificing anyone, dear. But …”

Moira understand. “My blood. But why? Why mine and not Fiona’s?”

“Because magic can’t destroy it. I don’t have all the answers. But-it’s dangerous.” Father Philip’s shackle snapped open. He said, “The cardinal has answers.”

“Who? The cardinal? Which cardinal?”

Before he could respond, a black cloud rushed into the room through the vent above the circle and filled the double circle, swirling around and around the altar.

Moira had seen the strange and supernatural in her life, but never had she seen anything like this. Never had she felt raw evil as it brushed past her, hot, vile, reeking of decay. But it wasn’t the malevolent personality that terrified her. It was the intelligence within the creature that made her realize there was no way they could defeat it-not one of the Seven and certainly not all of them.

There was no way to survive. She wanted to curl up into a ball and pray to God to make death quick.

It was not just her soul on the line. Inaction was not an option.

Moira jumped up, shaking off the shackles she’d unlocked only moments ago. She kicked over every candle and threw each of the seven chalices outside of the circle. But it didn’t matter. It was too late.

The Demon Envy had arrived.

FORTY

I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap in the dark.

— THOMAS HOBBES, 1679

Envy took form.

Moira stared, standing in front of Lily and Father Philip, protecting them with nothing because she had nothing to protect them with.

Envy was alternately hideous and beautiful. A man with long, golden hair turned into a hoofed creature standing on hind legs, horned and deformed. The changes were fluid, but the creature was corporeal. It had mass and body like the demon that had wrenched itself from the walls of Good Shepherd. But there was something different about this one. The eyes had intelligence. The demons she’d encountered before were driven by one thing: destruction. They acted purely on instinct.

Envy acted on forethought and intelligence.

It smiled at her.

Father recited a psalm; Moira knew it but couldn’t remember which one. Envy didn’t react to the invocation of God.

“Your words have no effect,” it hissed.

Envy’s voice was low, rumbling, loud. It echoed throughout the warehouse. That was when Moira first noticed the chanting had stopped. The coven watched those trapped in the circle with Envy. Moira didn’t dare take her eyes off the demon, but she felt fear all around her and it wasn’t coming from just those in the circle.

The damn coven should be scared. They would be next.

“I am the One,” Envy said.

“God is the One,” Moira spat out.

Envy growled.

Good going, piss off a demon while you’re trapped with it.

“I am the one who gave you knowledge. I am the one who felled mankind. I am the one you should bow to.” Envy smiled as it changed form, its legs turning into a snake, a rattle at the end, its body a hairy chest, its head turning back to the golden-haired Fabio, now with fangs that dripped poison. It slithered on the floor, seven feet tall, growing and shrinking as it circled around the trap.

“You think you can keep me here?” it asked.

“Don’t blame me,” Moira said, circling the altar to keep herself between Lily and the demon. “It was them-the witches and wizards who want to trap you.”

“And you?”

It slithered toward her so fast she couldn’t help but scream, her shriek short as her breath was stolen from her. Envy’s breath reeked of dead flesh, sulphur, and maggots. Its narrow, forked tongue shot out, impossibly long, and touched her cheek, burning her skin.

Moira flinched from the demon’s touch. With courage she didn’t know she had, she said, “You have delusions of grandeur to think you were the serpent who spoke to Eve. You’re but one of seven; the serpent didn’t have to share his power.”

She had no idea why she’d intentionally antagonized Envy; she had no idea if he was the demon who’d lured Eve or was just making it up because that’s what demons do best: lie. But all she could think about was buying time, otherwise Rafe and Anthony would have no chance to get the tabernacle in place.

The demon hissed in rage and pushed her aside with such force she flew across the room and hit a hutch. Glass broke around her, cutting her arms, and she fell to the ground.

Get up! She couldn’t move. She tried to rise, but glass dug into her hand, cutting it open. She bit her tongue to not cry out as she rolled away from the glass and lay on her back looking at the ceiling. She couldn’t save them-what was she thinking? She was one human against a demon who could kill her without straining itself. It could have killed her then, thrown her farther, higher, harder … like Peter.

Lily screamed. Moira forced herself to her feet, shook off her dizziness, and stepped forward.