Original Sin by Allison Brennan Page A

all that—oh, I get it, you’re just pissed off that you weren’t in the loop.”
    Anthony stepped forward and grabbed Moira’s wrists before she’d seen him move. Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bait him. “Rico picked the wrong witch to train,” he said under his breath, then added to Skye, “Left inside pocket. She has a knife.”
    Skye’s face darkened. She reached where Anthony told her and extracted the knife. It was a dagger with a double-edged blade, in iron. The handle was gold, inlaid with the relics of saints. It had been Peter’s. She always carried it with her. She had little else from Peter.
    “Any other weapons?” the sheriff asked angrily.
    “Nothing that can hurt a human being,” Moria snapped. She glared at Anthony. He was trying to keep his face impassive, but he recognized the knife as well. The fury simmered inside him; she felt it rippling through his body. Moira almost didn’t blame him. She was angry with herself, too.
    But she had never hated him more than she did right now. She couldn’t go to jail. If Fiona had failed, she’d try again. If she had Lily, she most certainly would restage the ritual as soon as physically possible—possibly as soon as tomorrow night. If she’d been successful, Moira had to undo the damage. How, she had no idea. But first, she needed to confirm exactly what happened here. If the Seven Deadly Sins were on earth, she had to figure out how to send them back to Hell and stop Fiona.
    Skye searched Moira and pulled out salt, several vials of holy water, and a long, thin iron chain.
    “A garrote?” Skye asked.
    “A devil’s cuff.”
    “Excuse me?”
    Anthony explained. “A means of restraining a possessed human. It prevents the demon from escaping, and makes it easier to interrogate the beast without harm to the human.” He then added, “It doesn’t always work.”
    Moira glared at him; Anthony stared her down. She bit back a sarcastic remark.
    Skye looked torn. She asked Moira, “Why are you here?”
    “I told you. I found the gateway and I had to stop her.”
    “Who?”
    Moira squirmed.
    Anthony answered for her. “Fiona O’Donnell. Her mother.”
    Two cars pulled up behind the sheriff’s truck. “That’s the crime scene team and coroner,” Skye said. She pocketed Moira’s passport. “I think it would be best if you came down to the station so we can talk, until I find Jared and Lily to corroborate your story.”
    For a brief moment, Moira considered magic. She could find Fiona and hurt Anthony. Her urge to cause him pain for everything he’d said tonight and in the past scared her so deeply that her skin crawled and she felt physically ill.
    Magic was evil, even if her purposes were noble. That Anthony had been able to even get her to consider it, just for that moment, pained her. She was worse than a drunk, worse than a drug addict. Magic was the greatest power, the greatest high on earth, and resulted in the steepest fall.
    Anthony saw her internal battle and smiled cruelly.
    “I knew you’d never change. I warned Peter, but he trusted you. Now he’s dead.”
    She decked him.

SEVEN
    Fiona strode through the secluded mansion on the outskirts of Santa Louisa, her footfalls echoing through the cavernous halls, a virtual electric storm in her wake. Serena had rarely seen her mother so furious. Though she’d been equally upset—and shocked—when Rafe Cooper walked into the middle of their ritual, she couldn’t help but feel a little gleeful that her mother’s lack of foresight had bit her in the ass.
    “Why didn’t you know?” Fiona turned on Dr. Richard Bertrand when they reached the towering library in the back of the house. The property was owned by Good Shepherd Church, and Serena was usually amused knowing that the contributions to Pastor Garrett Pennington’s ostensibly Christian church were used to allow her and her mother to live in luxury.
    “Richard!” Fiona shouted when he didn’t immediately answer