Carnal Sin

be used to trap the demon Lust, and if so, how they could keep that wench trapped.

“Take a seat,” Grant finally said, rubbing his temples.

“Headache?” Moira asked.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Grant scowled at his partner. “Stop it with that damn video. Either finish up the paperwork or listen.” He turned to Moira and Rafe.

“First,” Grant said, “I typed up the statement you gave yesterday. You’ll need to read and sign it.”

“Of course.”

“What I want to know is why did Nadine say to you, ‘I know you.’ Had you ever met her before yesterday?”

“No,” Moira said. She didn’t know why Nadine had said that, though it likely meant that Nadine-even within her possession-still remembered everything. Which means that she’d seen Moira in the alley. Demons could impart memories and information to their human victims, if they were powerful enough and had a reason. The demon Lust was certainly powerful enough, but why would it share anything with Nadine about Moira?

“You’re sure about that.”

“I’m not answering questions twice. Why did she tell you that she hated you?”

Grant just shook his head. “I’ll be the cop.”

“Fine.” Moira bit her thumbnail, pretending to be disinterested, but she watched Grant closely. She knew he had the mark on his back only because Julie had told her. She wanted to verify it, but she could hardly demand that he strip. And she remembered that when Deputy Hank Santos had been affected by Envy and unconsciously battling the demonic virus, he had a badass headache, as Grant Nelson obviously did now. Still, a killer migraine wasn’t proof positive of a demonic infection.

“Yesterday,” Grant said with a long sigh. “What happened in the alley?”

“I told you.”

“You lied to me. Sheriff McPherson promised that you’d tell me the truth. Dammit, I want the truth!”

“Can you handle the truth?” Moira asked. Rafe put a hand on her back and squeezed. She shrugged it off. She’d dealt with people like Grant Nelson before.

“Try me.”

“I saw Nadine kill Craig Monroe in the alley.”

Grant stared at her in disbelief. In a low voice he said, “You were a witness and didn’t come forward? Do you know that’s a crime? Accessory after the fact?”

“I wasn’t actually here Wednesday night. I saw her do it yesterday afternoon.”

“Don’t fuck with me, O’Donnell!” He slammed his palm on the desk.

“I’m kind of psychic,” she said. The psychic excuse sounded good, as most people would at least consider the possibility. Why people more readily believed in psychics than demons, Moira didn’t know.

“Psychic,” Grant said flatly.

“I saw his death imprint.”

Grant put his head in his hands. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

“You asked.”

“I should put you in jail, but I honestly don’t have the energy.”

“I can prove it.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nadine gave him oral sex. I’m sure they took some sort of sample or whatever it is they do. Since Nadine is dead, can’t you compare her DNA to whatever you found on Monroe’s body?”

Jeff Johnston coughed.

“Nadine could have told you,” Grant said.

“Right. I told you I never met her before yesterday on the sidewalk.”

“Of course you could be lying.”

“I’m trying to help you! I know Skye got a copy of the coroner’s report; you want me to call her? See if there was female DNA on Monroe’s dick?”

“That’s how you know. Sheriff McPherson told you.”

“Skye didn’t tell me shit. She left yesterday because she had to deal with a crisis back in Santa Louisa. I honestly don’t care if you believe me. You’re the one who wanted me to come down and play nice.”

Grant rubbed the back of his neck. “For the sake of argument, let’s say you are psychic and you saw Nadine kill Craig Monroe … how?”

“That I don’t know.” She ripped his soul from his body and ate it. “Her back was to me in the vision. But I know what she was wearing-a red dress. With a high neck but backless.”

Grant froze. He knew that dress; Moira saw it in his stunned expression.

Rafe whispered in Moira’s ear, “Anthony’s calling me back on my cell.”

She nodded. Rafe excused himself and walked down the hall.

“Where’s he going?” Johnston asked.

“Phone call,” Moira said. “We’re not under arrest; we can talk on the phone, right?”

“And how did you get hurt? You had a big welt on the back of your head.”

“What I saw caused me to faint,” Moira lied smoothly. “I hit my head. The bricks in that alley are uneven. And hard as a rock.”

Grant leaned forward. He had an expression on his face that Moira couldn’t read. It was almost … admiration. “Moira,” he said quietly, “you don’t impress me as a girl with a weak stomach. Fainting?” He shook his head.

She leaned back and stared at him tight-lipped.

“Okay,” he said, “you can leave. But stay in L.A. Until I know what’s going on at Velocity, I need you where I can find you. Because you’re lying to me, and it’s pissing me off.”

“I can help you, Detective.”

“With this cult. Right.”

Moira fumed. “Yes, with this cult. I don’t really care if you believe me or not, but let’s look at the facts. Three men are dead. Kent Galion, Craig Monroe, and George Erickson. They all had the cult mark on their backs. Nadine confessed in front of dozens of people that she killed them. You’ll find her DNA on Monroe’s body, and you already found her prints all over Erickson’s bedroom. She obviously lost it yesterday and had a mental breakdown.”

“The way you say it, the case is over. Suspect dead. Case closed.”

Moira opened, then closed her mouth. That wasn’t what she wanted the detective to do, was it? Close the case?

But maybe that would be good. Get him out of the picture so she and Rafe could find the demon, trap it, and de facto, Grant Nelson would no longer be infected.

They had only one day. If the detective died, according to Julie Schroeder, the demon was supposed to head back to Hell. But if Rafe was right, if the demon fulfilled its obligation to Wendy’s coven, the psychic leash that bound it to the chalice-or to the coven-would break. Because they weren’t dealing with a succubus but Lust itself, who hadn’t arrived through the chalice, it couldn’t be used to send Lust to the underworld.

Moira bit her lower lip. How could she keep an eye on the detective at the same time she tracked the demon?

“I guess you’re right,” she said, acting dumbfounded. “Case over.”

“It’s done, as far as you’re concerned.” Grant rubbed the back of his neck again. “I have details that need answers, and I’m going to find them-which is why you’re staying in L.A.”

An attractive woman strode into the room, her eyes pinned on Grant. She wore tailored slacks and a blazer over her substantial hourglass figure. “Nelson, what is going on? I’ve been monitoring this case since I spoke to you yesterday morning and you didn’t tell me that you had a suspect and now she’s dead! Suicide?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I read the police report.”

“Those aren’t public.”

“I know.” She held up an employee badge. “It helps when you work for the Board of Supervisors.”

“Nina-please. I’m in the middle of an interview.”

“Is it about this case?”