Ghostly Justice (Seven Deadly Sins, #2.5)(30)

“Help me!” Grant called. He’d pulled out the needle and had put pressure on Tori’s arm, but she was already going into shock. Her skin was deathly pale and her eyes unfocused, but she was awake and breathing.

The curtains were now completely engulfed in fire, and the couch on the far side of the room was burning fiercely.

Moira helped Rafe up. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, still unable to speak. As Gwen died, his voice returned and he gasped for breath. “Out. Now.”

“We need to get Tori out.”

She turned back to Grant and saw why he hadn’t removed her.

A heavy chain bolted her to the altar around her waist.

“Grant, take her blood out. She’ll need it.”

“I’m not leaving you in here.”

“Do it!” Moira ordered. She was used to people doing exactly what she said. She looked under the altar and inspected the chain. “Rafe, I’m going to lift the chain up; you pull her body out.”

The ceiling above them was beginning to cave with the pressure of the fast-burning fire. The flames themselves felt alive, at first caused by magic, then physics took over.

The chain was not only heavy, it was drenched in dark magic, making if feel infinitely heavier. Moira took the bottle of holy water and poured the rest over the chain. It sizzled under the water and Tori cried out, then fainted. At least Moira hoped she simply fainted and wasn’t in active shock. They had to get her to a hospital immediately or she would die. She didn’t know how much blood had been removed, but it was substantial.

Coughing from the smoke, Moira lifted the chain up and Rafe dragged Tori’s body out as quickly as possible. He then picked her up in both arms and carried her from the burning room. Moira followed, and as she stumbled down the porch, remembered the men in the cellar.

She ran to the door and was faced with a combination lock. She had no idea what the code was! She pulled at it, but it was locked tight. Smoke poured from the cracks, and the house above looked like it was going to cave on itself. Sirens and lights from emergency vehicles filled the sky with sound and illumination.

She pounded on the wood, hoping it would splinter, but it had been reinforced.

A firefighter rushed over with Rafe. “There’re two people trapped in there!” Moira told him.

He had an axe and broke down the door. Two men went inside.

Rafe said, “We have to go.”

“But what about—”

“Now. Grant understands.”

Moira didn’t know what story Grant was going to concoct to explain what had happened here, or what Tori would remember and tell the police. But like last time, Moira couldn’t risk being detained by the police.

Rafe took her hand and they disappeared into the night.





Chapter Twelve




Late Sunday morning, Rafe and Moira awoke again to knocking on their hotel door.

“It’s Grant,” a voice called from outside.

“Shit,” Moira muttered and pulled a pillow over her head.

Rafe kissed her shoulder. She had bruises and scrapes all over, and her voice was raw from the smoke. But she was alive, and that was what really mattered.

“Come on, sweetheart, rise and shine. It’s nearly noon.”

Rafe got up and opened the door. Grant looked surprisingly rested. And he’d shaved. “Come in,” Rafe said.

“I can’t stay long, but I wanted to let you know that Tori is stabilized. Nearly four pints had been drawn. But the paramedics were on scene when you brought her out, and they started immediate fluids. She’s going to be okay. Right now, she doesn’t remember anything after she was kidnapped on her way to the gym early Saturday morning. At least, that’s what she said. I certainly am not going to push for more details.”

“Good.” Moira stretched, but didn’t get out of bed. “What about Carter?”

“He’ll be okay. They’re calling it food poisoning, and he still feels like shit, but they’re releasing him tomorrow.”

Rafe was relieved. He’d been harboring a load of guilt over leaving Carter at Defiance in the first place.

“So, what’s the cover story?” Moira asked.

“This one is a little tricky. The men in the cellar identified you as their attacker. I had to think fast. You’re now officially my CI.”

“Excuse me? What the hell does that mean?”

“Criminal informant.”

Rafe reddened. “Criminal?”

“I said Moira O’Donnell was your street name. I couldn’t unring that bell. Your crimes are drug related, you work with Carter, and if it weren’t for you we’d never have found this gang. But I need your gun, Moira. I filed the report that I shot the bouncer with my back-up weapon. Otherwise, even as a protected informant, you would have had to come in for questioning.”

Moira sighed. “I understand.” She reached into the nightstand and pulled out her gun.

Grant took it and wiped off her prints. “Thank you both. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Well, I suppose we should thank you as well. For trusting us.”

“You don’t always make it easy, but I understand more now than I did...before.” He hesitated, then said, “It’s been a rough month since Julie died.”