Free Original Sin by Allison Brennan Page B

coven has been preparing for tonight, sacrificing one of their own to bring forth something evil.” She glanced at Abby’s corpse.
    Wow, four sentences and not a lie in them! She was good.
    “What specifically were they trying to summon?”
    “Demons, of course.”
    “When you say ‘coven,’ do you mean witches?”
    She shrugged. “Or magicians. You say tomato, I say tomahto.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Witches and magicians are essentially the same thing, sort of like …” She thought about it. “All magicians are witches, but not all witches are magicians.”
    “Which means what exactly?”
    Moira was getting irritated. She really didn’t have time to educate the sheriff—why hadn’t Anthony done it? “Whatever the hell you want it to mean.”
    “Don’t screw with me, Ms. O’Donnell. I have one dead teenager, one missing teenager, and when I get back to the station I’ll have the D.A., reporters, parents, and cops to answer to. I don’t have time to play twenty questions.”
    “And I don’t have time to explain the nuances of the black arts! Go ask your pet demonologist and leave me the hell alone!”
    Moira knew she was overstepping, but she really hated being here. She was worried about Jared and Lily, not to mention that the ground she stood on was a portal to Hell.
    Anthony stepped forward to defend Skye. “Watch yourself, Witch.”
    “Asshole.”
    “Enough!” Skye said. “Why would they want to bring up a demon?”
    At least she wasn’t calling her crazy, Moira thought. That was a first. She noticed that Skye and Anthony exchanged significant glances.
    Moira ignored Anthony and continued. “It’s always about power and knowledge. This group is already potent. They’ve been summoning evil spirits for generations. The leader—”
    “You know who did this?”
    Moira bit her lower lip. “I suspect.”
    “Who?”
    “You can’t confront her. She’ll have you running in circles until you drop dead.”
    Skye tilted her head. “Look, Ms. O’Donnell, I’m trying to understand your position, but don’t play me for the fool. Abby Weatherby is dead. I need to talk to everyone who might be responsible. It’s my job.”
    Moira said, “Abby was in the coven. You don’t think they haven’t protected themselves? I would have gotten the hell out of Dodge as soon as I smelled the sulphur if I hadn’t found her body. They want this body; they aren’t usually this messy.”
    “You lost me. What do you mean that they want her body? You mean to destroy evidence? To bury her, cover up the crime?”
    Of course she thought like a cop. “There’re two main reasons black-art covens don’t leave bodies lying around. One is because of people like you. You see a dead person, you start investigating. So yeah—evidence, I guess you could call it. Which is why magicians are so good at … disappearing the dead. Really, do you think all the missing people in the world are still alive?”
    The sheriff wanted to ask her more questions about it but changed gears and said, “You said you know who’s the leader of this coven.”
    “I haven’t any proof.”
    Skye said, “But I can interview them. Ask questions.”
    “No.”
    “You’re obstructing an investigation.”
    “I didn’t see anything. I don’t have firsthand knowledge of who was here. When I arrived, the only thing I saw was this body and the disturbance you saw on the ground.”
    “When did you arrive?”
    “Maybe ten minutes after the ritual was over. We—Jared Santos and I—saw a—” How could she explain what she’d seen in the distance? And make it sound sane? “We were still a couple of miles away and there was a fluttering, like thousands of bats all rose into the air at once. But it wasn’t bats. It was something dark and thick and alive, but nothing I’ve seen before.”
    That wasn’t the entire truth. She’d seen it before. She’d dreamed it, had nightmares about the dark overtaking the light, throwing humanity into a