Ghostly Justice (Seven Deadly Sins, #2.5)(8)

“Demon,” Moira corrected.

Both Grant and Carter looked uncomfortable, but Moira stood her ground. Grant of all people should understand what they faced. “It’s not so important what we call it,” Grant said, trying to smooth over the difficult conversation, “but if these people are worshipping some dark lord or just killing teenage girls for kicks, we need to stop them.”

“When did Beth go missing?” Rafe asked.

“December twenty-first. Is there a significance to that date as well?”

“Winter Solstice,” Rafe and Moira said simultaneously. “And,” Moira added, “there was a full moon then, too.”

“Why does that matter?” Grant asked.

“It only matters in that the practitioners believe they have more power. It’s more about theatrics and presentation. They risk far more because they think they have a stronger protection from whatever entity they worship.” Moira frowned. “The Spring equinox is in two days.”

“You think another girl is going to go missing?”

“If you mean, do I think another girl is going to be drained of her blood?” Moira said. “Yes. If this club Defiance is involved, I’ll know. Let’s go.”

“Hold it,” Carter said. “It’s invitation only, and the doors don’t open until sunset.”

“How do I get one?”

Carter frowned.

“You know someone?” Grant asked.

“Me.”

Moira eyed the cop suspiciously. “You hang out at a club for wannabe vampires?”

“I’ve been in a couple times. Comes with the territory—I need to know who goes where, where I might be able to recruit a CI, if they’re heavy hitters. If there’re drugs going in and out of Defiance, it’s way under the table. But I have a CI who can get us invites.”

Grant warned, “This might get weird—and dangerous.”

Carter laughed. “Dangerous? You haven’t done undercover work in awhile, Nelson. Shit, I can handle a bunch of fake-fanged freaks.”

“All I ask,” Moira said, “is keep an open mind.”

“Open mind. Check.” He wasn’t taking her seriously, but Moira couldn’t be responsible for Carter.

Except that she was. If they brought him in, she’d have to find a way to protect him.

The weight on her shoulders grew heavier.

“And listen to us,” Rafe said. “If things go south, you have to do what we say.”

Carter bristled and lost his good humor. “I’ve been a cop for twelve years, the last seven in narcotics. I know how to do a job.”

Grant intervened. “I’m the only back-up you’ll have. I can’t get a warrant for a fishing expedition. I need something solid to take to the D.A.”

“I don’t care about warrants,” Moira said, “I want to stop another sacrifice. If you’re right and there have been two already, they’re not going to stop.”

“Now you sound like a cop,” Grant said.

“Oh, joy, just what I always wanted to be when I grew up.”

Carter assessed Rafe and Moira critically. “You know you can’t go in like that,” he said. They were wearing jeans and T-shirts. “Do you have anything else?”

“I know how to dress,” Moira said. “Where should we meet?”

Grant said, “I’ll pick you up at your hotel at ten. We’ll put together a plan driving over there. Where are you staying?”

Rafe said, “Same place as last time.”





Chapter Three




His World Nature Camp spread across more than one hundred acres above Placerita Canyon. Early spring had brought forth new growth on the evergreens, but the Angeles National Forest was nothing like the Montana wilderness where Moira had trained as a demon hunter.

While Rafe drove from Westwood in the heart of L.A. toward the mountains, Moira sat in the passenger seat and surfed the Internet for information about the camp. It operated year-round with a small full-time staff and larger seasonal staff. The core purpose was to teach stewardship of the earth through learning about nature. Campers were encouraged to pursue their own spirituality, go on nature walks, learn about the ecosystem, and live, in part, off the land. While the bulk of the weeklong camping experiences were through small private schools and churches, any non-profit youth group could participate.

“On the surface it looks normal,” Moira said. “Though the gardening part sounds tedious.”

“You don’t have much patience,” Rafe said.

“To watch my food grow? No, I don’t.”

“I had a garden at the mission, before the attack.”

Moira reached for Rafe’s hand. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad. Maybe if you found a hobby you wouldn’t spend so much time thinking about demons and all that is wrong in the world.”

“Maybe. But not playing in dirt.”

Rafe brought her hand to his upturned lips. “I don’t really see you wearing a sun hat and tilling the soil.”

Moira thought back to their game plan, but she still had questions. “How did Amy’s killer know she was a virgin?” Moira glanced at Rafe. “And how did you know?”