Carnal Sin

had been removed, and a spirit trap was painted on the wooden floor. Pam Erickson watched from one of two doorways, and Nicole had laid out her tools on the table: an asthame, glass bowl, and a variety of dried herbs. Moira also noted a vial of blood.

“Kent Galion’s house,” Wendy said. “It’s perfect. Rape, murder, violence-perfect to complete the ritual. I like the balance.”

She sounded so much like Fiona, except for one major difference. Moira had never doubted Fiona’s sanity-she was simply evil and selfish. But Wendy was a magician and crazy. A dangerous combination.

Moira said, “As I told Nicole, you’re a fool. You don’t have a succubus in your power, you have the demon Lust, and she’s only playing along with you until she completes your demands; then she’s free.”

“You know nothing about my magic!” Wendy lit all the candles in the room with a simple incantation.

Moira laughed. “Parlor tricks.”

“I didn’t believe Nicole when she said you turned your back on your heritage. I’m shocked it’s true.”

“I know more about magic in my little finger than-”

Moira sucked in her breath involuntarily as Wendy delivered a psychic punch to her chest. She couldn’t speak as she recovered from the jolt.

“Yes, please be quiet.”

Julie Schroeder entered the dining room. She wore a thin, flowing red gown. As she sashayed past the flickering candles, Moira noted she wore no underclothes.

Moira found her voice enough to say, “Lying bitch.”

Julie laughed and Moira frowned. She’d closed off her senses when she’d been kidnapped, out of fear and self-preservation. Now, she slowly opened them.

It only took a few seconds to realize she was facing a demon.

Not just any demon. Lust inhabited Julie’s body.

“Where is my soul?” the demon asked.

“We’ll begin the ritual and find him.” Wendy glared at Moira. “You screwed up my plans when you showed up at Velocity. I couldn’t wait for Grant.”

“I feel just awful about that.” Moira feigned a yawn, keeping an eye on Nicole’s ritual.

“It doesn’t matter because I know how to find him.”

The three women circled the demon and held hands. The demon closed her eyes, a secret grin on her face.

Wendy spoke an ancient Latin incantation that at first Moira didn’t recognize. She listened, unable to translate it quickly. Then she heard one word, oculus, eye. It was an all-seeing spell, for the witch to locate someone. Eye … blood …

My eye, his eye. My blood, his blood. As it is above, so it is below.

Wendy held up the small vial of red liquid that Moira knew in her heart was Grant’s blood. She twisted off the cap, and for a second Moira thought she was going to drink it. Instead, she held out her wrist and the demon cut it with Nicole’s asthame. Wendy gasped, then poured a few drops of Grant’s blood on her wrist. The demon put her finger in the mixed blood and wrote a symbol on Wendy’s arm.

The intimacy of the ritual astounded Moira. Even Fiona would not have risked her life by allowing a demon to cut her skin, even for added power.

Wendy held her arms out and the demon spoke the language of the Conoscenza, the ancient book written by demons that Fiona had found. The book Moira needed to destroy to prevent the Seven from being summoned again. Unable to translate the words, Moira didn’t know what the demon Lust was saying, but the rhythm and tone chilled her until she couldn’t stop shaking. The ground beneath the house shook slightly, barely enough to feel, but magical energy flowed around them until on a breath of stirred air, the spell left in search of Grant.

“I see him!” Wendy cried. She laughed and didn’t sound sane.

A cell phone trilled.

Nicole said, “That’s Julie’s phone.”

Wendy, eyes bright with demonic magic, answered the phone.

Moira heard Rafe’s voice on the other end.

“I have Grant Nelson. You have Moira. Let’s trade.”

Wendy laughed until tears ran down her face, then hung up without answering Rafe’s question. She faced Moira with a glowing smile. “I hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend because you won’t see him until you meet again in Hell.”

The demon, Wendy, and Pam Erickson left.

Nicole smiled at Moira. “It’s just you and me.” Moira felt the energy building again. “I can’t kill you yet, but I can have some fun.”

THIRTY-ONE

Rafe had Grant Nelson restrained in the reverse spirit trap. They were in Jackson’s church, in the large area where the altar had been. A twenty-foot-tall empty cross hung on thick wires from the ceiling, the base eight feet overhead and behind them.

A thick line of salt circled Grant, as well as a nearly invisible circle of sacred oil. Rafe hoped they weren’t making a mistake using the church as their last stand-it had once been a Catholic church, and Jackson said the relics beneath the altar had never been removed. They were safe in a wooden box beneath the floor. Maybe it was overkill, but Rafe tied Grant to a chair directly above the relics. If the cop didn’t calm down and listen, Rafe wouldn’t be able to free him, and if Grant couldn’t defend himself it could put him at greater risk.

He hoped he was doing the right thing-and he wished Anthony would call him back with answers. They were cutting it far too close. If Anthony didn’t know what to do, then they would have to wing it. Which might well get them all killed. Rafe tried not to dwell over Moira’s captivity otherwise he’d lose his edge. Wendy’s laughter had been borderline hysterical, and Rafe expected the demon any minute.

He didn’t know if he could do this without Moira, and prayed she was safe.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said as he checked Grant’s restraints.

“You kidnapped a cop. Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” Grant glared at Jeff Johnston, who stood to the side, his eyes red with restrained emotion and uncertainty. He’d been the one to Taser his partner. “I’ll have your badge, Johnston.”

“I’m sorry, too, Grant, but you’re not yourself.” Jeff asked Rafe, “Is he possessed or something?”

“No. He’s infected. The demon Lust did a number on him, and now she’s coming to finish the job. Steal his soul, then end his life.”

Grant fought his restraints. “You’re both fucking insane! I’m going to kill you!”

“I want to cut you loose,” Rafe said, “but you’ll only endanger yourself if you leave this spirit trap.”

“I’m going to throw the book at you,” he growled.

Jackson Moreno brought the chalice from the sanctuary. “I don’t think we should bring that out,” Rafe said. “Not until Anthony calls.”

“I’ll keep it with me.”

“But-” Rafe was unsure. Moira had been adamant about keeping it well secured until the demon was trapped. “I’m going to call Anthony now,” he said. “We can’t wait.”

“What’s that?” Grant demanded. He was obviously in pain, but not from the restraints. His hair was dark with sweat, his face flushed, his eyes bloodshot. He was fighting the lustful urges, but Rafe suspected he’d be vulnerable as soon as the demon arrived. Rafe couldn’t free him; Grant Nelson wasn’t in his right mind.

“I’ve been telling you the truth, Detective. Wendy Donovan is a witch,” Rafe told him as he called Anthony. “She summoned a succubus-a demon who steals the souls of men during sex-in order to gain favors. But this time, she trapped one of the Seven Deadly Sins, and it’s not as simple to get rid of it.”