Authors: Allison Brennan
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
He nodded, then a screech came from the basement, followed by a male scream. Phineas jumped. The sound was not Kyle, Moira was certain. That left Phineas’s other man, because Robert wasn’t talking right now. Moira doubted he’d ever talk again, not without serious intervention.
“We’ve gotta trust that Kyle knows what he’s doing,” Moira said. “We need to prevent these bastards from getting out of this room. Do it now.”
She stood in the center of the circle, cold tendrils of spirits rushing by her. She wished she
could
see them because the sensations were downright creepy when she couldn’t see what was touching her. Icy-cold touches, though the ground she stood on was hot, almost too hot.
She took Rico’s holy water and poured it over one of the blood symbols. Steam rose from the packed dirt. Relieved she’d been right, she continued shaking water out until every symbol had been at least touched by the pure water. She tossed the empty bottle to Phineas, who threw her a full one. She continued the ritual, steam rising until it filled the room. She could barely see Rico and Phineas, but she knew the moment Rico had completed the circle.
The spirits built up around her. Suffocating.
She’d done everything she could. The spirits were trapped and she’d closed the portal so no more could escape, but how the hell did she send them back? She couldn’t just leave them whirling around in this salt circle. All it would take was one city worker coming down and disturbing the circle. Then there’d be a couple dozen pissed off ghosts on the loose in Victoria.
A gut-retching sound made Moira shiver.
That
sound she knew.
Two Earth demons grew from the dirt, each within arm’s reach of Rico and Phineas. They were dumb creatures, mindless. They were easy to dispatch, serving more as barriers for the uninitiated.
Rico and Phineas each took care of their own demon, but as that happened, a third, far more dangerous creature emerged from the ceiling.
“Moy-rah,”
it hissed from above her.
She had her dagger out and the demon laughed. It began to take shape, drawing in the energy from the still-trapped spirits. Growing, gaining form from the formless. It was trapped in the circle with her.
Rico ran toward her but Moira said, “Stop! I’ll handle it!”
She could battle the demon the traditional way, but that would exhaust her and she had no idea what this demon was capable of. It had been waiting for her. It knew her name. It wasn’t one of the Seven, but it had knowledge, and that knowledge would damage her, inside and out.
She turned her back on the men and discreetly cut her left palm, not so deeply that her nerves would be damaged, but deep enough to draw blood. She didn’t want Phineas to see this, and honestly, she didn’t want Rico to see it either. Rico knew what her blood did, but he hadn’t witnessed it firsthand.
She smeared her dagger with her blood and crouched down, waiting for the demon to attack.
“
Moy-rah,
I know your weakness.”
The demon shifted into a half-human, half-snakelike form. Similar to Envy but on a smaller scale. It slithered around her, its foul breath making her gag. Then it lunged for Rico.
She took her dagger in both hands and stabbed the demon in the back. The creature screamed in agony and withered in front of her. The size and breadth of the demon had been an illusion; it was a pitiful example of a demonic force.
Created to continue the illusion.
I know your weakness.
Programmed. Programmed to scare her.
Kyle ran into the chamber, Phineas’s woman on his heels. He ran into the center of the circle where Moira was on her knees.
“They’re gone,” he said. “You did it.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Kyle.” She gave him a brief hug, out of relief and exhaustion and fear. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“The other two guys are catatonic. I don’t think they’re dead, but—”
A gun shot made both her and Kyle jump. She reached for where her gun usually was, but she didn’t have it with her.
She whirled around and saw Rico on the ground, blood flowing from his leg. It had been the woman who’d shot him.
“You bitch, I’ll kill you!” She lunged for the blonde, ready to slit her throat. All the fear and anger at what they’d just gone through bubbled up as Moira tackled the woman and immediately disarmed her. She hit her in the jaw, pleased the woman cried in pain.
“Moira!” Phineas shouted. “Let her go or Rico dies.”
She didn’t let the woman go, but jumped up, the girl in front of her, holding her tight, Moira’s dagger at her throat.
“Leave and I’ll let her go.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
Phineas had his gun right at Rico’s head. “You kill Savannah, and I kill Rico. And I’ll bet I can shoot Kyle before you can throw that dagger into my heart. Would you like to play that game?”
“Fuck you.”
“We’ll have to fix that mouth of yours. I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Truly, I do.”
Moira looked at Rico. He was bleeding a lot, unable to move. If he didn’t get medical attention, he would die.
Phineas had already sacrificed two of his men, and she looked in his eyes, and knew he would sacrifice Savannah as well. He was right—he could shoot Rico and Kyle before she could take out both him and the girl with her knife.
“What am I to you?”
He smiled. Arrogance and strength and power emanated from him. “I’m the leader of Gabriel’s Sword. And the time has come to prepare for battle.”
Moira opened her mouth, then closed it.
Gabriel’s Sword.
More than a hundred years ago, a small faction broke off from St. Michael’s Order after a major disagreement over how to dispatch demons. St. Michael’s focused primarily on protection—retrieving and protecting ancient artifacts that can be used in demonic rituals, purging demons from people and places, and disbanding dark magic covens that sought to use their powers to weaken the barrier between Earth and the Underworld. St. Michael’s was reactionary by necessity—and there was plenty to keep the dwindling numbers on their toes.
Gabriel’s Sword was founded by Monsignor Filippi Mancini, one of the leaders in the Order who had a bitter argument with the rest of the leadership, including whether to bring in “outsiders.” The Order was very closed—only those who had been abandoned at the monastery could grow up to be full members of the Order. Mancini and his group wanted to expand, among other things. He broke off with six others and they first went into hiding in England, then moved to the U.S. They recruited from both within St. Michael’s and outside of it, and the last she’d heard, they were larger than the Order itself. They were also violent and proactive. She didn’t wholly disagree with them, but they were ruthless and their casualty rate was high. They brought attention from law enforcement when it was better to keep their activities on the down-low.
A tickle of fear crept down her spine. She knew why they wanted her.
They’d heard her blood could kill demons.
And she’d just proven it to him.
She was so screwed.
She glanced at Rico. He shook his head. “I’m prepared to die. Fight them.”
Rico might be prepared to die, but Moira wasn’t prepared to lose another friend.
I know your weakness.
She said, “Kyle, get Rico to a hospital.”
Phineas smiled. “You’ve made the right choice.”
She pushed Savannah down to her knees.
“This isn’t a choice,” Moira said. “It’s blackmail. And I’ll never be one of you.” She spat in his face.
He flinched, just a bit, and frowned. He grabbed her by the wrist and she reluctantly let him disarm her, though she had the overwhelming urge to stab him in the heart. “You will be when you learn the truth.”
She stared him in the eyes. “Fuck. You.”
He slapped her.
Three, nine, three, two.
Three, nine, three, two.
The numbers chased each other in her dream.
Three, nine, three, two.
It was a game. Lily liked games. She hadn’t played in a long time. Her life had once been fun; it was now a life of fear.
Save Moira.
“Yes, Father,” Lily said. She sat upright in her bed. “I don’t know how.”
I’ll show you, child. Three, nine, three, two. Follow me.
Father Philip held out his hand and she took it. She left her small room and, barefoot, padded down the hallway. The stone floors were cold, but she barely registered the temperature.
“Why did you save me? You shouldn’t have died for me.”
It was my time, child.
“Everyone is very sad. Moira is sad. She kneels by your grave almost every day.” Lily didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.
Save Moira.
“I will. Tell me how.”
You, dear Lily, are special. Do not mourn me. My death was meant to be. If you had died, everything would have been upside down.
“It feels upside down now.”
We don’t have much time. Dr. Lieber’s papers.
“Who? What papers?”
But he didn’t answer. Because this was a dream and when she wanted real answers, she couldn’t get them. It was a riddle. A game. But now it wasn’t fun.
Lily walked down the stairs to the main floor of the large house. It was like a castle, hidden away from everyone. Father Philip led her through the entry hall, around a corner, and to a set of double doors.
The library, child. Be swift.
There was a key pad. She typed in a code, numbers she’d been dreaming about for the two nights she’d been here.
Three, nine, three, two.
The red light turned green and a faint click told her the door had been unlocked. She stepped in.
Father was no longer with her. She closed the door and looked around. There were faint lights from wall sconces, but not bright enough to read by. She didn’t want to make them brighter because she wasn’t supposed to be here. What did he want her to do? Why had he brought her here?
She looked at the rows of bookshelves, at the tables and desks. It was like a small college library. But one desk seemed to shimmer. She walked over to it and sat down. The drawers were locked. She had never picked a lock before, but she succeeded on the first try. This was just a dream, she reminded herself. Of course she could pick a lock in a dream.
But her feet were cold and everything in front of her was bright while everything to the sides was fuzzy. What did that mean? Was she losing her mind?
You’re dreaming, Lily, she told herself.
You must be dreaming. Father is dead. You can’t talk to him.
In the bottom drawer of the desk was a loose leaf folder filled with handwritten notes. She picked it up, put it on the desk, and read.
This is wrong. It’s opposite.
She couldn’t know that. But as she read, some words faded out and some words became darker, and she realized that the papers were altered.
Lily shook her head to clear it and looked around. How had she gotten here? Where was here? She remember dreaming… talking to Father Philip… three, nine, three, two.
She had her cell phone in her hand. She hadn’t remembered picking it up off the charger. She dialed Moira first.
There was no answer. She didn’t leave a message.
She called Rafe. He would know what to do.
He had to know or Lily wouldn’t be able to save Moira.
#
It wasn’t even six in the morning when Rafe’s cell phone rang. It was a blocked number, and he hoped it was Moira. He hadn’t spoken to her in nearly two days, and he was getting worried. After last night at the bar… he didn’t know how to process everything he’d seen and heard, and he wanted to make sure Moira understood they were both in danger, in a different way than before. Skye also needed his support because Anthony was too wrapped up in Juan’s papers. Anthony was too wrapped up in a lot of things, things that were making Rafe suspicious.
“Hello?” he answered on the second ring.
A faint voice said, “Rafe?”
“Lily?”
“Yes.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m scared.”
He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What happened?”
“I just woke up. I don’t know where I am. No, wait, I do. A library. Books and desks.”
There were two libraries at Olivet, the main library and the study hall. The study hall was locked, but that’s where the desks were.
“Just be calm and tell me exactly what happened. Did you sleepwalk again?”
“Yes. I tried calling Moira, but she didn’t answer.”
Rafe tried not to worry about Moira—she wouldn’t answer her phone if she was in the middle of something. But his nerves were on edge. “You’re at Olivet, right?”
“Yes. I’m in the library—I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why, no. Yes. I know why.”
They were supposed to be keeping an eye on her. How had she slipped through Olivet security? Even leaving her room should have alerted Tristan and the others. “Slow down, tell me exactly what you’re seeing and feeling. You’re in the library.”
“Yes. Lots of books. A big fireplace. Several desks. I’m sitting at Rico’s desk.” She paused. “I don’t know how I know that.”
“The room is usually locked.”
“I think I knew the code.”
He tensed. “What do you mean?”
“Numbers were running through my head. Three-Nine-Three-Two.”
Rico changed the code often, but it was always a four digit number.
“You have to save Moira,” Lily continued. “They want to kill her.”
“Who?” He was already out of bed. He started dressing.
“It’s a lie.”
“You’re not making any sense, Lily.”
“It’s confusing. I don’t understand!”
“Slow down.” He should be there. With Lily, with Moira. They needed him.
So did the people in Santa Louisa. But none of it would matter if anything happened to Moira.
She took several long breaths. “Okay. Okay.” She paused. “Dr. Lieber’s papers. Does that mean anything to you?”