She would not die without fighting back.
The demon was far more fearsome in appearance than in action. He staggered, weak, and didn’t seem to see her clearly. Moira could use that to her advantage.
He lunged at her, his body not quite fluid but moving fast and breezily, as if his corporeal form were made of thick gas. He had form, but he over-exerted himself in the failed attack and wavered before her eyes before solidifying again.
He was blind, sensing her through smell or instinct. He staggered, screaming in pain. She hadn’t touched him, only jumped away, into a controlled fall to bring herself back on her feet and ready to fight.
She pulled out what Rico called a poisoned dart: a three-inch iron barb that had been blessed and saturated in sacred oil and ash from Sunday palms.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, go back to the pit!”
It took all her willpower and control to stand her ground as the demon attacked again. She held the dart out and as soon as it pricked the demon’s corporeal shell, the creature screamed an agonizing bellow that Moira felt deep in her chest. She fell to her knees, unable to breathe, unable to move. The demon turned to dust, and a gust of hot air swooshed down and consumed the dust like a vacuum. It happened so fast, and Moira was in such pain, she wondered if she were delirious.
When she could finally look up, her sister was gone.
THIRTY-ONE
My friend, this life we live
Is not what we have, it’s what we believe.
—3 DOORS DOWN, “It’s Not My Time”
When Anthony and Lily arrived at the mission, he spotted an unfamiliar car. He pulled up close behind it and proceeded with caution.
Lily had slept during the drive up the mountain, and he let her continue to sleep while he inspected the intruder’s vehicle. Just as he noticed the car had a rental sticker in its back window, Father Philip stepped out of the mission’s only remaining structure.
“Anthony.”
He took long steps to reach the only father he’d ever known, and hugged him tight. “Father. It is good to see you.”
“And you, son.”
Anthony stepped back. “Why did you come here instead of Olivet? And without a bodyguard. It’s dangerous here.”
“We have much work to do, but not enough time. Where’s Moira?”
“Gathering information on where to find Rafe. The coven has taken him!”
“Anthony—we need to talk. Moira didn’t go after Rafe alone, did she?”
“We had to split up. She’s at Good Shepherd Church, a front for Pastor Garrett Pennington—one of Fiona’s magicians—hoping that there will be information there to help us find where they’re holding him.”
Father tensed, concern crossing his tired face. Anthony had always known Father was older than most of the elders, but now he appeared even older than his years, and it greatly worried him. “Who is her backup? She shouldn’t be alone.”
“We had no choice. I need to protect Lily Ellis, the young woman they called the arca. The coven wants to trade Rafe for both Lily and Moira.”
“They will never exchange him. Rafe’s too valuable to them. Come inside. Fill me in while we prepare.”
“We? You can’t be part of this! You will stay here, where it is safe. With Lily.” But Anthony didn’t know if Father Philip and Lily were safe anywhere, alone. He’d left Rafe in what he believed was a safe refuge, yet they had found him. No one was truly safe as long as Fiona O’Donnell was alive. He wished Rico could come, but he was battling evil elsewhere. Despair rushed Anthony. How could they possibly battle against a coven as large and powerful as Fiona’s with just him, an old priest, and Moira—who wasn’t even part of the Order? So far she had been more diligent and useful than he’d expected, but she’d also rushed off this morning without discussing it with him. Moira was a maverick. St. Michael’s couldn’t function with mavericks; it was their communication and planning and union that gave them the strength and intelligence to fight supernatural battles on earth without succumbing to the dark forces themselves. How could their pitifully small group possibly save Rafe and make sure Lily didn’t fall into their adversary’s hands?
Despondent over their options, Anthony gently woke Lily and carried her inside. There were two small rooms remaining at the mission, the small entrance and what long ago had been the caretaker’s office. He placed her on the cot in the corner, where he sometimes slept when he worked late and the weather was too poor to drive down the mountain.
Father Philip sat next to her and took her hand. “Lily,” he said, smiling. “My name is Philip.”
“Hi.” She swallowed nervously and blinked.
“You’ve been very brave.”
She shook her head. “I’m scared.”
“Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not afraid. I have a few questions for you.”
She glanced at Anthony. “You can trust Father Philip,” he told her. “I’ve known him all my life.”
Father Philip said, “I don’t blame you, Lily, for not trusting me, or Anthony. But—”
She shook her head and sat up on the cot, leaning against the stone wall. “I trust you. Moira told me the truth from the beginning, but I didn’t want to believe her. She told me I could trust Anthony, and I do. I’m okay—I just wish I understood what was going on. My mother—she’s a witch. I don’t understand, but I know what I saw.”
“Did you see your mother on the cliffs when Abby died?”
She shook her head. “But she was there! She told me she was; she knew what happened before I told her.” She looked from Father to Anthony and asked, “Is Jared okay? I haven’t seen or talked to him since yesterday morning, when his dad took me home. My mom took my cell phone, wouldn’t let me talk to him, or go on the computer. When I tried to leave, she locked me in the basement and said—” She paused and bit her lip nervously.
“What did she say?” Father Philip prompted.
“That I was here for a purpose and I should be proud. But Abby died, and my aunt came over last night and I heard them talking—”
“Your aunt? Abby’s mother?”
She nodded. “Aunt Darcy. She’s my mom’s cousin, but I always called her aunt. And she wasn’t crying or anything about Abby. She was actually mad! At me because I’d run away.”
Father nodded. “Abby, I’d like to baptize you. A Christian baptism. I need you to answer the questions I ask truthfully. You are of the age of consent, and if you lie, I can’t help you.”
“I already was baptized.”
Anthony asked, “By Garrett Pennington?”
“Y-yes. How did you know?”
“He’s not a minister.”
“But—I don’t understand.”
“He’s a witch, just like your mother, just like Fiona O’Donnell and the rest of the men and women you saw on the cliffs. He could not have given you a valid baptism,” Anthony explained. “And likely, you were baptized long ago to serve the underworld.”
“Lily,” Father said, “this is important. It’s to protect your soul. I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, but a valid baptism removes the stain of original sin from your soul, the sin that Adam and Eve brought into the world.”
“It doesn’t seem fair that we all are being punished for things we didn’t do,” Lily said.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” Father agreed. “But we’re human beings, and our faith keeps us strong. Stronger than we think we are. We don’t always see the signs of God in action. We think He hates us, that He allows evil to prosper. Good people die. Bad people live. But truly, is God to blame? Are we not culpable because we are blind to His help and the help of others? Anthony, myself, Moira—we all belong to St. Michael’s Order.”
Anthony’s ears pricked. Moira part of the Order? Never had a woman, let alone a witch, been initiated. He would have known. Yet he’d never known Father to tell a lie. He was torn, not knowing which would be the greater error.
“In the Order,” Father Philip explained, “we are taught to see signs. To interpret them. If the Seven Deadly Sins remain free, humanity is in great jeopardy. But worse still, if Fiona’s coven gains control of them, she can target her enemies. The greatest threat to her power on earth is St. Michael’s Order. If we fail, there is no one stopping the reign of evil on earth until Jesus Christ comes again.”
“How can we—I—any of us—stop it?”
“By following the signs. And the first thing is to purify you so they can’t use you to store the Seven Deadly Sins. Anthony and I will do everything in our power to protect your life; and the first thing is to ensure your body cannot be used by the Seven. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Do you want to be baptized into the Catholic Church?”
She nodded. “Y-yes.”
Father Philip began the baptism rite. It was bare-bones, but included ancient traditions. He spoke the sacrament quickly, his hands steady on Lily’s head. He took a small chalice, removed the lid, and with a gold spoon took a teaspoon of salt and fed it to Lily.
The salt was for wisdom and to help prevent the corruption of sin. It was rarely used anymore in modern baptism, but St. Michael’s Order insisted. And in this context, with the pinnacles of sin freed in the Seven, even more appropriate.
“Lily, do you renounce Satan?”
“I do.”
“And all his works?”
“I do.”
“And all his pomps?”
“I do.”
A chill rushed through the room, but if Father felt it, he didn’t let on as he anointed Lily with sacred oil.
But Anthony felt it, and heard the voices that had been silent for weeks.
help us help us help us help us
The same voices he’d heard when he first arrived at the mission ten weeks ago, minutes after the murders. He hadn’t heard them since those first days, had hoped the souls of the dead priests had found peace, all the while fearing that they were still trapped somewhere between heaven and Hell, imprisoned by someone or something.
help us help us help us help us
Anthony stood perfectly still while Father finished asking Lily questions about her belief in the Holy Trinity.
She answered the last question affirmatively.
Father had poured holy water over her head with each of the last three questions, and when he was done, Anthony felt a slight tremor. Father felt it as well, and said to Anthony, “It’s good.”
Anthony didn’t want to argue with Father Philip, but he’d never experienced any physical reaction to a baptism, which was an internal cleansing of sin.
Father finished the baptism by handing Lily a candle and lighting it.
“Lily, go in peace and the Lord be with you. Amen.”
Lily was silently crying.
“Child, don’t cry,” Father said, holding her face in his hands.
“I can’t help it. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“You are humble. Humility is a virtue. Lie down and rest. We have a long night ahead of us.”
She lay on the cot, and Father covered her with a blanket. He turned to Anthony and said, “She will sleep. Let us go to the office and you can tell me everything that has happened. And maybe, together, we can find the answers we need to reverse the evil Fiona O’Donnell has done.”
“First, Father, tell me where Rico is. Why can’t he be here? Why can’t he send someone?”
Father said solemnly, “The Seven Deadly Sins have disbursed. Only one remains in Santa Louisa. Rico and his people have trouble in every—how did he say it?—every hot spot in the world. We are on our own, yet they all depend on us to find answers and stop Fiona’s coven. If we can’t do those things, these battles will be our end. No one in the Order will be left standing.”
THIRTY-TWO
When Moira saw the flashing red and blue lights in her rearview mirror, she almost floored the accelerator. She hesitated just a moment too long with her decision, because the police cruiser flashed its brights and flipped the siren on and off twice in a piercing chirp! chirp!
Moira looked at the roof of the truck. “You really don’t like me, do you?”
She kept her hands on the steering wheel and stared in the side mirror as the deputy got out. Hank Santos.
“This is getting better and better.” She should have floored it. She’d had a chance.
More likely she would have gone off the road and killed herself. But instead of bliss in death, she’d probably be dragged down to the pit and be summoned by her mother so Fiona could torture her lost soul for the next decade. Fun.
She rolled down the window. She hoped she could talk her way out of this, because not only did she have a knife on her, she also had a gun on her. She couldn’t kill a cop, nor could she go back to jail.
Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Deputy Santos, right?” she smiled.
“Step out of the truck, please.”
“Sir, Jared loaned me his truck. I wasn’t speeding.” She honestly didn’t know whether she’d been speeding but thought it sounded good.
“I asked you to step out, Ms. O’Donnell.”
“Why did you pull me over?”
“If you don’t step out of the vehicle, I will forcibly remove you. Please step out.”
Moira slid out of the truck, feeling the same odd sensation she’d had when Santos came to her motel yesterday morning. She concentrated with all her senses, but he wasn’t possessed or under a spell. Still … something about him was off. She said, “You’re mad about yesterday morning. I tried to—”
“Keep your mouth shut, Ms. O’Donnell. You’ve manipulated my son, but this truck isn’t his to do with what he pleases. It’s mine. My name is on the registration, and I did not give you permission to drive it.”
“Fine. It’s yours. I’ll walk.”
“Your license, please.”
She bit her lip and pulled out her wallet. She showed him her driving permit from Sicily.
He glanced at it. “I need your international driving permit.”
“I don’t have one.” She’d been in and out of the United States for the last seven years, and getting an IDP was the last thing on her mind.
“This license is expired as well,” he said.
She wasn’t surprised. She’d had it for years. Other than her passport, renewing government documents wasn’t high on her list of priorities.
“I said I’d walk.”
“You’ve already broken several laws, Ms. O’Donnell. I’m going to ask you to come down to the station while we sort this out.”
“Deputy Santos, please, I really can’t.” She doubted begging would get her out of this mess, but she’d try anything at this point.
His face darkened. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but ever since you came to town you have been a thorn in my side.”
“What? I haven’t done anything to you.”
“You are coming between me and my son. He never lied to me before now. He ditched school today. I don’t know where he is, but I’ll bet you do.”
“I don’t.” What on earth was Jared up to? Moira was worried. She should have made it a point to talk to him earlier today, make sure he was keeping a low profile.
“I need to search you.”
“No. Do not touch me.” She was beginning to panic. She didn’t want to hurt Hank Santos, but she couldn’t go to jail. “Call Sheriff McPherson.”
“Turn around and put your hands on the car.”
A car pulled up behind Santos’s cruiser. Another cop. Great. Now she was going to be manhandled, searched, and they’d find her weapons, haul her to prison, and …
Skye McPherson got out and strode over. Moira sighed in relief.
“Hank,” Skye said. “I’ll take care of this.”
“With all due respect, Sheriff, I don’t believe you are impartial in this matter.”
“Why did you pull M
s. O’Donnell over?”
“She’s driving a stolen vehicle.”
“Hank, you know Jared loaned her the truck. He told me yesterday afternoon that he had.”
“He didn’t have my permission.”
“Bring it up with your son. If Ms. O’Donnell wasn’t breaking any laws while driving, you’ll need to let her go.”
“She’s driving without a valid license.”
Skye asked Moira, “Is that true?”
“I don’t have an IDP.”
“I can’t let you get back in the truck.”
“I’m arresting her,” Hank said.
“For driving without a license?”
“I have the right.” He rubbed his head as if he were in pain.
“Hank, can I have a word?”
They walked back to Hank’s cruiser. Moira breathed easier and tried to pinpoint what it was that disturbed her about Hank—other than his being an asshole.
Whatever Skye said to him, it had to have been good. Five minutes later, Jared’s father drove away.
Skye came over and said, “You have to leave the truck. Get your stuff.”
Moira grabbed her bag from the backseat. “Thank you.”
“I saw him follow you out of the school parking lot. I’d called him when I learned Jared ditched school. But I have a more immediate concern.”
“What?”
“I saw something on his neck.”
“I saw it yesterday. A birthmark. But—”
“I’ve known Hank for years. He never had it before. And I have four dead bodies with so-called birthmarks that they didn’t used to have. I’m worried about him now, I don’t even know if I should have let him go, but what am I supposed to do? Arrest him? Ask him to remove his shirt so I can compare his mark to the dead?” Skye shook her head, motioning for Moira to get in the passenger’s side of her cruiser.
“If it’s the same mark that Anthony showed me this morning,” Moira said, “I’ll tell you what I told Anthony. It’s the mark of a demonic baptism, but the fact that these marks are showing up spontaneously makes no sense. They usually come during the ritual baptism itself. Could Hank have been on the cliffs the other night? Is he part of the coven?”
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