Blood Sins

Chapter Seventeen

AMY LET OUT a long, guttural moan and began to sway. Before she could topple over, Father smoothly took her candle and Ruth appeared out of nowhere to catch her. Held in the older woman's arms, Amy continued to jerk and moan for seconds longer. Her face was flushed, her slack mouth wore a blissful smile, and she ran shaking hands down over her body from breasts to thighs in a gesture so sensual it made Ruby's stomach lurch sickly.

Still chanting, Father placed Amy's candle in the tall copper holder closest to her circle. And while he did that, Ruth was silently arranging Amy's limp body on the floorfaceup, her head on the little velvet pillow and her arms spread wide, feet together and just touching the base of the copper stand holding her candle.

Amy's lips began to move as she resumed chanting.

Theresa was next, and though Ruby tried not to watch it all happen again, she was unable to look away. Her heart was thudding as if she'd been running and running, and her mouth was so dry it was difficult to keep chanting, and she was desperately afraid that her shell was not going to be enough to protect her this time.

When Father was done with Theresa, Ruth laid her out on the floor in the same way, arms wide, toes touching the candle holder, and Theresa also resumed the chant, her voice languid.

Always before, Father had come to Ruby next, but this time he went to Mara instead. And her experience was visibly different from that of the other girls. Father took more time with her, and it seemed to Ruby that Mara was slower to respond to whatever it was he was doing to her. Maybe because she was only eleven and this was her first time.

Ruby and Brooke had talked about their first times, and both agreed that it was weird and scaryand not at all pleasant. Their skin tingled, their scalps crawled, and it was difficult to breathe. But both of them had shells, and they hadn't been at all sure what a first time was supposed to feel like.

They had simply copied what the other girls did, how they behaved, and they pretended to enjoy their Becoming. Father had seemed satisfied by that.

But Ruby was alone now, the only one of the girls with a protective shell, and she wasn't at all sure it was going to protect her this time.

All she did know was that she was next.

She was last.

And when Father turned toward her finally, there was something in his face she had never seen before, an odd smile, a curious light in his eyes.

Then she saw something in his true face, in that mask over the dark and hungry thing she had seen earlier, that thing she felt sure could swallow the world.

It was knowledge, awareness.

He knows.

"Ruby," he said softly. "You've been naughty, my child. I'm afraid you must be punished." And he stepped around behind her.

"I think the so-called plan stinks," Sawyer said.

Hollis looked at him with slightly lifted brows, then glanced at Tessa. "You know, I think I'll take my laptop up to my room. Check in at the office. Do a few other things to kill a little time. Or maybe I'll take a nap, because it's been a really long and eventful day."

"Don't go on my account," Sawyer called after her.

Tessa leaned back against the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffeemaker to finish its work, and said mildly, "We really don't have a lot of options, you know. When it comes to a plan."

Despite her seeming calm, he knew she was tense and on edge. He could feel it. Almost as if he had a hand on her. Which he very badly wanted. Even though he knew that, once again, his timing was, to say the least, off. "We're assuming too much," Sawyer said, doing his best to keep his mind on business. And even as he forced himself to remember that, all the risks of what they were going to attempt flooded in and nearly stole his breath. Christ, we're all out of our minds. "For starters, we're assuming that the weird energy inside the Compound is going to affect every psychic's abilities."

"Because energy fields do affect us. And that one certainly affected me. It's affected DeMarco. And it affected you."

"I'm still not so sure about that."

"I'm sure. And so is Bishop."

"Yeah? And what makes you both so sure I can control it?"

"You'rewhat? Thirty-eight?"

"Thirty-six."

Tessa nodded. "And became an active psychic in your teens."

"I started shorting out electronics is what I did."

"It's all about energy, Sawyer. You've spent about twenty years learning how to dampen down your own energy field. That can be a very valuable ability, especially when it's enhanced by what's going on in the Compound."

"Yeah, right. Assuming it works like that. Assuming I can do what I need to do at will. And there's no guarantee of either."

"No guarantee anywhere." Tessa shook her head. "But the one thing we're all agreed on is that we can't just wait around for Samuel to make his next move. Because someone is likely to die and because he's not likely to suddenly begin leaving evidence lying around for one of us to find."

"Besides, like Bishop said, the law can't touch him. The courts wouldn't know what to do with him. But we know how dangerous he is. We know he's either going to continue to get more powerful until he reaches some kind of critical massor he's going to explode trying to get there and kill an awful lot of people."

"So we have to destroy him. Yeah, I got that. Fairly ruthless, your Bishop."

"He isn't mine. And the thought of doing something like that isn't an easy one for me. But in this case, I happen to agree with him. We have to make absolutely certain that Samuel can't hurt anybody ever again. With his mind, at least."

"Because he's dangerous. And because you're worried about Ruby."

"I'm worried about all of them. But, yes, Ruby especially." Tessa rummaged in the cabinets for coffee cups. "I hope she doesn't mind that I left Lexie up at the mountain house."

"Bishop was right; the farther she is from the compound, the safer she's likely to be. Plus she's not being a drain on your shiny new ability to hide things." Sawyer paused, then added, "Interesting that she took right to Bishop."

"Yeah, Hollis says he has that effect on animals and kids. They trust him instantly. Says something good about his character."

"Or about his abilities." Sawyer shrugged when she looked at him. "Well, it could be that, you know. Bishop's a telepath, so he could be using a shortcut to win their trust."

"Cynic."

"Realist." He watched her pour coffee, then added wryly, "Though how I can call myself that after a day of talking about psychic abilities andwhat's the plural of apocalypse?"

"I don't know. Apocalypses?"

Sawyer repeated the word aloud, trying it on for size, and accepted the cup she handed him. "Thanks. Apocalypses. Spending the day talking about psychic abilities and apocalypses, and I call myself a realist."

"That's the real situation. No sense in pretending other-wise."

"I guess. But it's still just so damn hard to believe. That Samuel could have killed so many over years without anyone noticing. And that he could kill them without even laying a finger on them. That's not supposed to be humanly possible."

"Maybe he's not human."

Sawyer eyed her. "Serious?"

Tessa sipped her coffee, then sighed. "No, not really. Whatever he is now, he's the human variety of monster. We do seem to turn them out from time to time."

"Yeah, but not many of them decide to be God Almighty. Literally."

"Well, not only am I not a profiler, I also have no intuitive feel for the minds of cult leaders or other monsters, so I really don't get the whole messiah complex. First, why would anybody want to rule over the world? And, second, if that's what someone wanted, then why want to destroy the world over which one rules? I mean, what's the point of that?"

"Absolute power."

"I still don't get it."

Sawyer smiled at her faintly. "Probably just as well. That Nietzsche quote about hunting monsters and looking into the abyss is all too true. There are some dark places in the human mind, Tessa. Don't go there if you don't have to."

"Spoken from experience." It wasn't a question.

"An experience most every cop has." He shrugged. "The things people do to each other, often for the stupidest reasons, is more than enough to keep us up nights. Even in a small town like Grace, we get our fair share of lunatics and losers."

"So all this is the extreme end of nightmare for you."

"Well, not all of it is."

The comment seemed to hang in the air between them, possibly flashing in neon. Sawyer could see that he had surprised Tessa, taken her off guard, and he swore at himself mentally.

Oh, yeah, idiot, a day spent talking about monsters and apocalypses is just a perfect day to cap off things with a totally awkward and uncalled-for hint that you're glad you spent the day with her.

The only positive aspect of his seemingly chronic foot-in-mouth disease where this woman was concerned was that he was now reasonably sure that the sarcastic voice in his head was entirely his own.

He finished his coffee so quickly that he burned his tongue, then set the cup on the kitchen counter, saying, "Hollis was rightit's been a long day. And no matter how tomorrow goes, I think we should all rest while we can get it."

"Yes. You're probably right."

She set her own cup aside and walked him to the front door, her slight frown worrying him until she said, "On second thought, maybe we should spend some of our time tonight practicing. Whose idea was it to do this tomorrow, instead of waiting a few days? Oh, rightmine."

Sawyer wanted to put his arms around her but fought off the impulse, determined not to make a second mistake on the heels of the first one. Instead, he said, "Well, you and the weather forecasters seem to be in agreement on this one. Get some rest, Tessa. I have to go see a friendly judge about some paperwork."

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Tessa closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.

"That," Hollis said from the stairs, "was mean."

"I thought you were going to take a nap."

"I changed my mind. Besides, it's so late now I might as well just wait for bedtime. And don't change the subject. Why didn't you throw the poor chief a crumb or two? In my book, he gets points for not being a practiced smooth talker."

"In my book too. But wrong time and place. Maybe when all this is over and the dust settles"

"Seize the day," Hollis advised. "When all this is over and the dust settles, there may be only a few of us left standing."

"Yeah," Tessa said. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Sure you want to do this?" Galen asked.

Bishop looked up from the map he'd been studying to find both Galen and Quentin watching him. "I'm sure."

"We're banking on an awfully big maybe," Quentin pointed out. "A whole series of them, in fact. Maybe the weather will cooperate. Maybe our abilities will be affected in ways we can usehell, just controlinside the Compound. Maybe Samuel won't figure out what we're up to until too late."

"My favorite maybe," Galen offered.

"It's a doozy," Quentin agreed.

Dry, Bishop said, "If either of you has a better idea, now's the time."

The other two exchanged looks, then Galen shrugged. "I've got nothing."

"No," Quentin said. "Me either. Sadly."

"Then we go with what we've got."

Quentin sighed. "Reese hasn't been able to find evidence in that place in more than two years of trying, and he's good."

Galen muttered something under his breath.

Quentin ignored him, keeping his attention fixed on his boss. "If there was anything there to hang a warrant on, he would have found it. So even if your friendly federal judge agrees we have cause and signs a warrant, all that does is get us inside legally. And since we're trying to avoid Samuel's apocalyptic version of Waco, we go in low-key and casual."

"Wouldn't do any good to go in heavily armed anyway," Galen pointed out. "Not against Samuel."

"Which will probably reassure the judge, since he has no idea we're dealing with something a lot more dangerous than guns."

"Actually," Bishop said, "Judge Ryan knows all about psychics and how dangerous psychic abilities can be."

"Judge Ryan." Quentin stared at him. "Ben Ryan?"

"Ben Ryan. He was appointed a federal judge a year or so ago, and we're in his district."

"So how's Cassie?"

"Cassie's flourishing. And so are the girls."

"Ah," Galen said, making the connection. "Your cousin Cassie. Did she ever get her abilities back?"

"She's telepathic with Ben, but with no one else. Which suits both of them completely."

Quentin was thinking along different lines. "So Ben's out on this limb with you. I mean, if we leave that Compound without Samuel in custody and/or without enough evidence or enough willing witnesses to make a case against him, there's going to be egg on a lot of faces."

"Worth the risk," Bishop said briefly. "And Ben agreed with me."

"The Director could use any failure against you, Bishop. Especially something as potentially explosive as going after a religious leader, cult or no cult. It's exactly the kind of thing he's been waiting for."

"I know."

Looking at Galen, Quentin said, "But no pressure."

"We should be used to it by now. How many times have we gone into a high-stakes situation functionally blind?"

"A few. And yet we prevail. So far, at least." Quentin frowned. "But I sort of wish Hollis wasn't here. She's got more lives than a cat, granted, but she's used up most of them by now. And with Samuel's fear of mediums"

"It's a weakness," Bishop said. "We use it against him if we have to."

"And how do we do that?" Quentin inquired politely.

"Hollis knows what to do."

"Yeah, and knowing that is fine and dandy if the energy in the Compound affects us the way we hope it will. But if it doesn'tif things go horribly wrong, as things so often do in the kind of confrontation we're setting upthen what? Hollis is standing in the open doorway between this world and the nextand one good shove the wrong way means we lose her."

"I know," Bishop said.

"My guess is that Samuel won't hesitate to shove. In fact, I'm guessing that'll be his knee-jerk response."

"I know," Bishop repeated.

"And then there's Tessa. Not only will she be going into that place alone, but the chances are damn good Samuel will know she's coming and have the time to conjure a nice little welcome for her."

Bishop didn't repeat his words, but merely waited.

Galen murmured, "Making your point the hard way."

"I don't know any other way to make it," Quentin told him.

Galen opened his mouth to comment, but the summons of his cell phone distracted him.

"That's another thing," Quentin said in a lowered tone as Galen took the call. "Cell reception down in the valley seriously sucks, and Sawyer said the police radios weren't much better. Especially now, with all the fluctuating energies trapped in that valley. The very energies we're hoping will enhance our abilities is going to make it tricky as hell for us to time this thing, especially when we aren't sure how much time Tessa will need to do her part."

"I have an idea about that," Bishop said.

Galen snapped his cell phone closed and said, "Huh."

The other two looked at him.

"Reports of my death," he said, "have apparently reached the Director."

"He's still in Paris," Bishop said slowly.

"Yeah. But my question is, how would that information have gotten to Washington, let alone Paris? Nobody here reported it. Aside from Reese, only two people witnessed me being shot and killed. Neither of them could have known I was FBI. And both are supposedly loyal members of Reverend Samuel's church."

Washington

It was nearly midnight when the phone rang, but Senator LeMott was still awake, propped up in bed not reading.

He tossed the unread newspaper aside, pulled off his reading glasses, and answered the phone. "LeMott."

"I have a message for you, Senator. From down South." The voice was muffled, not even clearly identifiable as male or female.

"What's the message?"

"He found himself a friendly judge. A federal judge. The warrant was signed about an hour ago. They're going into the Compound late tomorrow morning."

"In force?"

"Not exactly."

LeMott listened to the muffled voice for another minute or two, then merely said, "Thank you." And hung up.

He sat there in bed for several more minutes, staring at the wood fire crackling in his bedroom's fireplace without seeing it. Then he reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a cell phone. He pressed one number and waited while the call went through. When it was answered on the other end, he spoke a single word, very clearly.

"Viper."

Then he closed the phone. Without hesitation, and with unerring aim, he threw it across the room and into the fire.

He wasted no time in pushing newspapers and covers aside so he could sit on the edge of the bed and use the phone on his nightstand for the second time that night. Again, his call was answered promptly.

"Yes, Senator?"

"Get the jet ready. I'm on my way."

"Yes, sir."

Senator Abe LeMott hung up the phone, then went into his dressing room, turning on lights as he went. He drew an already-packed bag from a shelf in one of his closets and set it near to hand.

It had been packed for quite a while.

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, flexing his shoulders as though shifting a burden.

Then he began getting dressed.