Carnal Sin

Erickson.

“Grab her before her boyfriend gets here,” Pam barked.

“Gladly.”

“Nelson hasn’t showed yet.”

“That doesn’t matter. Wendy and her stupid games. We’ll find him.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Enough.”

Moira struggled to get up, though she couldn’t see anything but spots of light and dark. She tried to shout for help but failed. She tried to reach her knives that had fallen when Pam Erickson hit her, but couldn’t see them. She felt her gun being removed from her holster.

The two witches pulled her up and half carried, half dragged her down the alley and around the corner to where a blue sedan idled. She was dropped unceremoniously in the trunk. The steel frame slammed down, wrapping her in darkness.

Her heart raced as Moira’s mind clouded in panic. She almost wished she had been knocked unconscious so she wouldn’t know she was trapped. She reached up, touching the cold metal of the trunk much closer than she expected. Her eyes were open but she couldn’t see her hand. She saw nothing, nothing but black and shadows. Shadows … a hint of light filtered in through the hairline seams where the lid closed. No real light, just a shadow, but she focused on it as if her life depended on it.

Moira wasn’t scared of the dark, even though she knew of monsters that lurked there. In the dark, she could fight, she could run, she had room to battle. But here, trapped, as effective as the bars her mother kept her behind, no room to maneuver, there was no escape.

Hadn’t Rico locked her in a dungeon so she could conquer this fear? Was her suffering for nothing?

It’s just a car. Just a trunk. Just two magicians who have a fraction of Fiona’s power. Think, Moira.

She focused first on even breathing while staring at the shadow, the promise of light when she got out. Her heart rate shifted from full throttle to fast. They hadn’t tied her up, but she couldn’t find a release in the trunk to pop it open. She couldn’t hear Nicole and Pam in the front of the car; either the sound didn’t travel over the noise of the road, or they weren’t talking.

The car picked up speed and the exhaust fumes filled her lungs, making her gag and light-headed. Still, she felt around the trunk. Nothing except rough carpet on a board.

A board? Didn’t cars have a spare tire in the trunk? She didn’t know enough about cars-she’d never owned one, and none of the cars she’d stolen had a flat-but it made sense that the tire would be in the trunk. And with tires came things like tools and bolts. Anything that she could use as a weapon.

She shifted in the tight confines, the pain above her ear coupled with the movement and fumes making her nauseous. She waited a moment for it to pass, then rolled over to her stomach and felt along the carpet for a seam or handle or something that she could pull up.

There it was, a small chain. She tried to lift it up but the board didn’t budge-she was on top of it. No matter how she moved, she couldn’t find a way to pull up the floor to reach the spare tire and the possible tools inside.

The panic rose again, an overwhelming sense of helplessness that had her shaking uncontrollably. How could she let her claustrophobia defeat her? She was no shrinking violet. She was Moira O’Donnell, and dammit, that meant something! What would Rico say if he could see her now?

“Your fear will get you killed.”

But it wasn’t fear that would get her killed, it was inaction. Letting her emotions win over her training. Healthy fear was a good thing; healthy fear would keep her focused on what was important.

Stopping Wendy and Nicole. Meeting Rafe at Grace Harvest Church, saving Grant Nelson, trapping the demon Lust.

What would Rafe do? He’d tell her to have a plan. Be ready to improvise. Not to act blindly, but to act smart.

The car slowed. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but not more than fifteen, twenty minutes. She stretched as best she could, moving her ankles and wrists in circles, working out the kinks, shifting her arms over her head and touching her shoulder blades. She flexed and relaxed, not letting her muscles fall to sleep.

The car stopped, someone got out, but she didn’t hear a door close. A moment later it did and the car moved forward. Slowly. Excruciatingly.

Then it stopped one last time and the ignition turned off.

Moira waited. Her first reaction would be to come out kicking and fighting as soon as Nicole opened the trunk. But she didn’t know how many there were, where she was, and she would be off balance coming out of the trunk. Her head was still fuzzy, now more from the fumes than the attack.

She would bide her time, seizing the best opportunity to fight back.

Waiting. Definitely not her strength.

Velocity wouldn’t open to the public for another hour, and the main doors were locked. Rafe ran around to the alley but didn’t see Moira. As he approached the employee door he saw her knives on the ground, one partly obscured by the dumpster. He picked them up and pocketed them.

“Where is she, Julie?” he demanded of the spirit inside him. “Tell me or I’ll send your astral self back to your body so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

Don’t, please-I don’t know where they took her!

“You knew she was in danger.” Rafe kicked the dumpster, then tried the door.

No. Only that Wendy was luring Grant here. I didn’t want Moira to get caught in the middle! Please, you have to find him before Wendy!

“I need to find Moira first!” He took a deep breath. They hadn’t killed her-they likely wanted to turn her over to Fiona. He had time. He had to think, be smart. If he had Grant, he could offer an exchange. “She could be inside.”

The code to the door is 65601.

Rafe typed it in and cautiously entered the employee break room. Two women were putting on makeup and stared at him.

Tell them you’re subbing for Ike. They’re not witches.

Rafe smiled. “I’m filling in for the bartender. Is Wendy around? I was supposed to check in with her.”

The taller girl said, “We just got here. She’s not here yet.”

But she was here! Julie cried.

Rafe smiled and crossed the room as if he knew what he was doing. “Where’s your security tape?” he asked Julie.

Reggie’s office. He’s the bouncer, but he doesn’t come in until five.

Julie directed him to the bouncer’s small office. Several security screens showed the club inside and out from various angles. He focused on the screen that scrolled through four different angles of the alley. He looked at the equipment, noted it was digital, and replayed the last fifteen minutes.

He watched Moira stride slowly but purposefully down the alley, then she halted, on full alert. She appeared to be listening-with all of her senses. Nicole came out of the door a moment later. Moira had her knives out so fast Rafe almost missed it. They began to argue.

A voice behind him said, “You have some explaining to do, Mr. Cooper.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Detective Johnston, who had his hand on the butt of his gun.

“Watch this-Moira’s in trouble.”

“I think-” Johnston stopped, watching the silent replay. Moira moved her knives in front of her with surprising speed as Nicole held her hands up. Not in a defensive posture, but almost as if she were conducting an orchestra. Every step Nicole took toward Moira, Moira took a step back.

“What the fuck?” Johnston stared in disbelief at the screen. “O’Donnell is the one with the weapons, but the other woman is the aggressor?”

Rafe said, “Nicole Donovan is a witch. She’s using magic to attack Moira.”

He threw his hands up. “You think I’m an idiot? If-” He stopped midsentence as Pam Erickson walked onto