Carnal Sin

replicated inside the confines of a physical body. No one who hadn’t experienced astral projection at its purest could possibly understand or appreciate true inner balance. It was as if the symmetry between being human and being a goddess was achieved only when Julie was a spirit. The more she participated in the natural oneness with earth, the more she craved it. Except for the not insignificant fact that her physical body was vulnerable when she was separated.

She shivered as if wrapped in a cool breeze and found herself floating above the Los Angeles County Morgue.

At first, Julie thought her reflections had turned her melancholy, but she was dangerously wrong.

The closer she got to the morgue, the more apprehensive she became. Her spirit kept fighting her will, trying to fly away, and she fought back, knowing Grant was inside.

For a split second she thought he was a corpse. Ignoring her instincts, she descended into the morgue.

Everyone looked at her.

There were specters here, remnants of the dead who had come through. Certainly not all of the dead; otherwise the place would be overrun, since hundreds of bodies came through the morgue each week. But even a dozen apparitions were fearsome, and they saw her. They not only saw her, but they knew she was alive.

One ghost walked toward her. It was a girl in her early teens, and she looked sad.

Why are you here? she asked Julie.

I’m watching that man. He’s in danger. She gestured to where Grant was talking to a petite black woman. Julie was relieved that he was still breathing.

The girl looked at Grant and frowned. He is dying.

Julie shivered and resisted the urge to go to Grant. How do you know?

Look. You have to look for the colors. He’s dark. Dying.

Julie took the ghost’s word on it. Why are you still here?

The ghost looked around at other apparitions. I don’t know. I’ve been here awhile-my body is in the other room.

She motioned, and Julie saw the deep freezer. On one slot was a small sign:

DOE

They don’t know who you are.

She shook her head sadly.

Everyone here is unknown?

No. Most spirits come and go. They’re attached to their bodies, can’t seem to leave them. When their body goes, so do they. Most of the bodies who come through don’t have spirits with them. I have no friends anymore. I want to leave but don’t know how. I’m scared. Can you help me?

I’ll try. What do I do?

The girl looked as if she was about to cry. I don’t know.

When I get back to my body, I’ll figure it out, okay? Julie didn’t know if she’d survive, let alone be able to figure out how to find peace for this girl, but she’d try. What’s your name?

The girl brightened. No one has ever asked me before. I’m Amy Carney.

I’m Julie.

The others hate you, you know.

I’m not going to bother them.

The girl shook her head. They don’t care. You’re alive. They’re not. I’m not. I just don’t know why I can’t leave. I don’t know why I can’t go to Heaven. Is it because I’m bad?

Of course not.

This girl could not possibly have done a fraction of the bad things Julie had done over the years. More than anything, Julie wanted to fix everything, starting with saving Grant’s life.

You need to go before he sees you.

Was she talking about Grant? Julie looked at him. He was viewing Nadine Anson’s body. A chill ran through Julie’s noncorporeal form.

He saw you. Julie, go! Now!

Julie had no idea what Amy was talking about, but all the ghosts disappeared, including Amy. All the ghosts, except for one.

It was a man, old and deformed, and it stared at her. For a moment she was frozen, but then she thought, what could a ghost do to her?

Mine, he said.

Julie didn’t want to find out. Whatever he thought he could do, Julie realized she was vulnerable. The ghost could see her, but she had no way of defending herself. She rose to leave, but the ghost rushed at her. She flew as fast as she could out of the building, but it chased her. Faster.

She thought she was clear, blocks away from the morgue, and she stopped flying, fearing having expended too much energy. She needed to calm down or risk not having the strength to communicate with Grant.

She felt the spirit rush at her.

Mine.

Its icy darkness wrapped around her like a snake, squeezing her, trying to mingle its dead energy with her living aura. Julie was drifting, helpless and terrified.

Her fear fed the entity, and it whispered darkly: Mine.

No! She gathered all the psychic energy from the air around her, used all her magical strength, and repelled the evil spirit. Like a slingshot, it flung back to the morgue, to whatever tangible item or body it was attached to.

Julie drifted down to earth, weakened. She’d had no idea what she would encounter at the morgue, or that the dead could see her. It seemed impossible, but of course it wasn’t. She had once thought so much of what she was now able to do was impossible. But nothing was; she could do anything. She could be anything.

Yet she would be nothing if she couldn’t get her body back.

She didn’t dare go back inside the morgue, but she floated lazily to the parking lot until she found Grant’s car. Inside it, she relaxed for the first time since leaving her body. She’d wait here for him, and hopefully figure out how to save him.

He is dying, the ghost-Amy-had said. Dying.

Please, whoever’s listening, help me save him.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Moira and Rafe sat in Pastor Jackson Moreno’s sunny kitchen, where she explained her plan to trap the demon Lust and save George Erickson’s soul from eternal suffering. He didn’t seem to like it any more than Rafe did, but Moira was certain she could pull it off. She had to try.

“Your plan is not only dangerous,” Jackson said, “but the chances of success are next to nothing.”

Moira said, “Others have been successful. It has worked before. And I’m good at this.”

“Arrogance-pride-is one of the deadly sins,” Jackson said.

“You don’t have to remind me,” she snapped. “You want to check my back? See if I’m marked?” She began to lift up her shirt, but Rafe grabbed her arm.

“You are good, Moira, but Jackson is right. You can’t ignore the inherent dangers,” Rafe said quietly.

“I know,” she said, equally quiet. “I promise, I’m not being a hotdog. I have to at least try. I won’t do anything rash.”

She and Rafe had been through this earlier at Starbucks and again in the car after she’d spoken to Rico.

He hadn’t wanted to share the exorcism rite with her because it put her in too great a danger.

“Why are you risking your life for this man?”

“It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only way to save his soul, or are you going to tell me I am more important than he is?”