by Kay Hooper
“No.” Samuel shook his head. “You won’t.”
His hand lifted, clenching into a fist.
She didn’t fly backward as the chauffeur had done, but Hollis jerked again. Her aura vanished with a loud crackle that rivaled the lightning, and she was slammed backward to the ground.
And lay motionless.
Oh, Christ . . . this wasn’t supposed to happen . . .
“Someone’s talking,” Samuel repeated, turning his attention from the fallen medium as though he had brushed away a bothersome insect. “Bishop, is that you? Have I finally lured you to me?”
Bishop faced him, wearing a tight, grim smile—and on his very dangerous face it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “I thought it was time we finally met. We came so close last time, but you didn’t stick around for the grand finale.”
Move.
Sawyer realized suddenly that he could move, that he could take a step away. He wasn’t sure in that moment whether Samuel had released him or someone stronger had pulled him loose, but either way he was able to move to the side and allow the two combatants room.
Doing the only thing he could do for Robin now, for Hollis, for all those Samuel had murdered, he focused his cold rage on his part of what was left of their plan, concentrating on directing all the energy he could muster to help contain Samuel’s building energies.
It was like trying to catch lightning in a box.
The real thing crackled across the sky again, and the prickling, uncomfortable sensation of electricity filled the chilly, heavy air.
“I had to be somewhere else,” Samuel said to Bishop, apparently unaffected and unworried. “I knew you’d understand.”
“What I understood is that we managed to hurt you. Dani managed to hurt you.”
“Yes, well. Dani isn’t here.”
Again, Bishop smiled. “Wrong. She is here.”
Samuel’s smile faltered for the first time, and his eyes began to dart around as he searched the faces of the dozens of people who had gathered nearby in the Square. Puzzled, curious faces, the only oddity about them the fact that they seemed unaffected by the brutal murders committed before their very eyes. And all familiar faces. Faces Samuel knew well.
“You’re lying, Bishop. Not that I give a damn.” His hand raised abruptly, palm out, and Bishop was lifted off his feet and slammed back against the Jeep with an incredible force that shattered glass and crunched metal. He hung there, suspended, the vehicle almost wrapped around him as if it had run full speed into an immovable object.
Just like the chauffeur.
For a moment, Bishop’s body seemed stiff, but then, abruptly, it went limp. Blood trickled down to stain the gravel. “I’m almost disappointed,” Samuel said, sounding it. “I expected more of a fight.”
“Then you’ll get one,” Tessa said.
Samuel’s head turned quickly, and he frowned as he saw her standing only a few feet away to his right. Standing in front of her, pressing against her, was Ruby.
His hand lifted again, but this time a literal shower of sparks cascaded out from Tessa and Ruby, the residue of the deflected energy.
“Try again,” she invited.
He did, his frown deepening, his face twisting with effort as this time he lifted a hand straight up—and caught the lightning.
He became a living conduit. A crackling bolt speared his upraised hand and shot out from the hand extended toward Tessa and Ruby. It lasted only seconds.
And again, astonishingly, the force he directed at them was deflected, sparks and threads of energy hissing off in all directions.
“It’s amazing what you can hide, especially in a place like this,” Tessa said conversationally. No strain at all showed in her face or in her voice. “Like Ruby, under the baptistery. Left there to die, slowly, among the trophies you kept. I guess at the end of the day, a serial killer is just . . . a serial killer. For all your fine talk of doing God’s work, in the end you’re no more than a butcher.”
He let out a sound so primitive it could only have come from an animal and, with both hands, sent a white-hot stream of pure energy to strike them.
This time, it was deflected—and returned to the source, slamming him back against the stone column at the foot of the steps. He hung on, panting a little, his face pale, furious eyes narrowed.
“It’s amazing what you can hide,” Tessa said again.
Samuel’s head snapped around, because her voice came from his left now. And there she was, with Ruby as before. With Ruby and a dark, solemn-eyed boy. Cody.
“If you only know how,” Ruby said gravely. “We know how, Tessa and me. And Cody knows how to help us. Cody has a lot of power, but he hid it from you. Until now.”
Samuel, for the first time genuinely baffled and shaken, looked to his right again. Where Tessa and Ruby had stood seconds before, Dani Justice stood now.
“Hi,” she said. “Remember me? You took away somebody I loved a lot. And you can’t get away with that. You don’t get to hole up here, growing stronger and stronger by feeding off people. By killing people. You don’t get to be God. Not today.”
Her hands were at her sides, and as they slowly lifted she appeared to be inside a bubble of shifting, sparking energies. Her energies. Sawyer’s. DeMarco’s. Tessa’s. Ruby’s. Cody’s. And more.
Much, much more.
Lightning crackled in the sky above her. Then bolts of it struck her aura of energy, intensifying it in a wild explosion of sheer, raw power.
“Not today,” she repeated, and thrust her hands forward.
The sound was like an explosion. Was an explosion. A literal wave of incandescent energy surged forward from Dani and struck Samuel with the same kind of force he had used against Bishop—times ten.
The stone column crumbled to shards and dust, and he lay among the shattered remnants. He wasn’t dead, but his face was twisted with agony, blood trickled from his nose and mouth, and when he tried to lift his hands in another attack, it was clear he had nothing left. Not even sparks.
His hands trembled, then fell.
“Father!” Bambi stumbled from the small group of church members standing nearest the steps and knelt among the broken remnants of the stone column, cradling his head. “Father . . .”
Looking down at Samuel, DeMarco said calmly, “I can read him now. It. There won’t be another attack. Not today, at least. Maybe not ever.” He shifted his gaze to Dani. “Nice shot.”
“Thank you.” She sagged, a little pale but composed. “I’d been saving that up for a while. And I had a lot of help.”
A tall, whipcord-lean man emerged from another small knot of people and folded her in his arms. “Jesus, I wish you’d stop doing this to me,” Marc Purcell told her.
“Hey, you hitched your wagon. Your choice. Don’t blame me for the consequences.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He kissed her.
Even though all three were smiling at him, Sawyer made sure Tessa and Ruby and the boy were okay before turning quickly to start toward the ruined Jeep.
“Bishop . . .”
To his astonishment, Bishop, unhurt, was hurrying toward the crumpled vehicle that still held a man in its deadly grip.
“Galen, are you all right?” he asked, reaching his team member.
“Of course I’m not all right. I don’t know why you all think this dying shit is painless. Just because I can heal myself does not mean it’s a day at the park. Goddammit, somebody get a crowbar or something and get me out of here.”
“It’s amazing what you can hide,” Tessa said. “What you can change. If you only know how.”
Indignant, Sawyer said, “But why’d you hide that from me?”
“The same reason . . . they hid it from me. I broadcast . . . and Samuel was . . . reading you. Either one . . . of us . . . would have . . . given away . . . the plan.” The thin voice caused all of them to jerk around, but Bishop was the first one to reach Hollis’s side.
“Hey, boss,” she said, her voice stil
l weak. She was lying as she’d gone down, motionless. But her eyes were open—and were their normal blue color, if a bit darker than usual.
“Christ, Hollis,” Bishop muttered.
“Another . . . fun new toy . . . for me.” She winced and closed her eyes. “Sorry . . . busy now . . .”
All Sawyer could think to say was “What the hell?”
Resting on one knee beside his team member, Bishop explained, “Some mediums are healers.” The relief in his voice was obvious. “The energies here must have triggered it in Hollis.”
“Good thing . . . too,” she murmured.
“Will she be okay?” Sawyer asked.
“I think so.” Bishop put a hand on her shoulder for a moment and then rose to his feet. Leaving Quentin to work on extricating Galen from the Jeep’s unloving embrace, he turned to face LeMott. Both men were expressionless, but the whitened scar on Bishop’s cheek was as good as a neon sign.
“Senator, two people died today, and neither one of them had to. What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“I’m sorry for them,” LeMott said, his tone flat. “Especially Officer Keever. She was only supposed to relay information, you know.”
Sawyer took a step toward him, conscious once again of rage. “Information? You were paying Robin to spy for you?”
“She had dreams of leaving this small-town life.” LeMott shrugged. “Dreams cost money. And I convinced her it was her chance to help you, Chief. To put Samuel away, once and for all. So she called me last night. To tell me what would happen here today.”
“You son of a bitch,” Sawyer snarled.
Bishop said, “I’m sorry, Sawyer. We were all but certain that he had eyes inside your department. We just didn’t know who it was.”
Sawyer turned his head to look toward Robin’s lifeless body, then felt a hand slip into his. Tessa.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her other hand still holding Ruby close to her side. “We knew he’d go after Bishop and after me once he saw me with Ruby, but we didn’t think he’d see anybody else as a threat. So we weren’t protecting her. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.” His fingers tightened on hers. “So am I. You . . . said something about trophies?”
“He kept them in a space underneath the baptistery,” she said. “Where he left Ruby.”
“Awful things,” the little girl with eyes that were old now said gravely. “Locks of hair, bits of clothes and stuff.”
“DNA,” Bishop said. “With that, we can nail him.”
Senator Abe LeMott laughed. “You mean put him in prison? Allow him to live?”
“Justice,” Bishop said.
“You were willing to destroy him.”
“Yes,” Bishop admitted evenly. “I was. And if in destroying his abilities we had killed him, I wouldn’t have lost a night’s sleep. But this way is the right way. His abilities are gone and he’ll live the rest of his life in a cage. That’s good enough for me.”
“But not for me.” LeMott turned his head to look at the broken remnants of the man who had been Adam Deacon Samuel and said simply, “Viper.”
Still cradling Samuel’s head against her, Bambi used her free hand and drew from underneath her long, prim skirt a gleaming knife. Without a moment’s hesitation, she plunged it to the hilt in his chest.
Gazing steadily into his infinitely surprised eyes, her own icy, she said, “Say hello to Lucifer for me. And tell him a whore never forgets how to fake it. You should know that. Right, Sammy?”
Samuel died without making a sound, his life taken by a woman very much like the one who had given it.
Bambi pushed herself away from his body. She left him lying there in the rubble as she got to her feet, saying calmly to Sawyer, “It was self-defense, you know. Any jury will believe that.”
“I’ll make sure they do,” LeMott said. He looked at Bishop. “I was afraid that, in the end, you wouldn’t be quite as ruthless as you’re often painted, Bishop. So I had a backup plan.”
Epilogue
TESSA EASED Sawyer’s office door closed and joined the others in the conference room of the police station. “Ruby’s asleep. Worn out.”
Hollis shifted in her chair to look at a clock high on the wall, murmuring, “God, it’s only a little after five. This day’s gone on for a lifetime.” She was pale and obviously still in pain, but just as obviously well on her way to completely healing the damage Samuel had inflicted.
“On the plus side,” Quentin pointed out, “you emerged with a fun new ability. Thank God. Be honest—did you know about it when you decided to face off with Samuel?”
“Wish I could say yes. It would have saved me a lot of being, you know, scared half out of my mind. But, no. When I hit the ground, I thought I was dead. I didn’t even know what I was doing, until I actually started to feel bones knit.” She paused and frowned. “Which is a very creepy sort of feeling, I have to say.”
“Creepy, maybe. But useful in our line of work.” It was Quentin’s turn to frown. “And maybe that explains all your near-death experiences so far.”
“Probably,” Bishop said. “Medium–healers tend to have an incredibly strong will to survive.”
Quentin said, “I think it was the medium part that tipped the balance. It shook Samuel just enough to give Tessa and Dani the time they needed to get into position. Nice going,” he added to Hollis.
With a grimace, she said, “Yeah, well, he called my bluff.”
“You were bluffing?”
A soft laugh escaped her. “Had to. Either all the energies out there weren’t enhancing my abilities for once, or the spirits decided to stay out of it. Either way, I was sooo bluffing. Hard as I tried, I could not open a door.”
“Damn,” Quentin said blankly. “I mean . . . damn, Hollis. Thank the universe for that new ability and the will to survive.” “Yeah. I really did.”
Tessa shook her head wonderingly, then looked at Sawyer. “Speaking of the will to survive, what’s going to happen to Ruby?”
“I don’t know. Her mother and so many of the others seem . . .almost catatonic now. I wonder if, in the end, Samuel will have as many living victims as dead ones.”
“Bailey will do what she can up there,” Bishop said. “The guardians in the SCU are, among other things, psychologists or counselors. And we have others on the team who can help.”
“Can they?” Tessa asked steadily.
“Some. I don’t know how much, to be honest. Samuel was . . . a wholly destructive force.”
“Will he destroy Bambi?”
It was Sawyer who answered, with a faint grimace. “If Senator LeMott buys her the best defense money can buy, I doubt she’ll spend a day in prison. The bastard was abusive, and most of his followers look and sound dazed at best and brainwashed at worst. Hell, I didn’t want to have to put her in my jail. Even if I did see her kill him with my own eyes, I’d defend her in court.”
“I think we all would,” Bishop said. “Even Reese.”
“How long will he stay at the Compound?” Hollis asked.
“Probably not long, if I know him. He’ll make sure there’s someone to run things up there, assuming the congregation wants to continue. He and Galen will make certain all the evidence Tessa found is collected. Not that we need it for a prosecution, but perhaps for Bambi’s defense. And to tie up a few loose ends for us.”
“You know,” Quentin said, “we still have a few unanswered questions.” He realized he was being stared at, and qualified, “Even more than usual, I mean. Like, who was Andrea, our spirit who told Hollis where Ruby could be found?”
“Why did Samuel have an obsession about buying up mostly worthless property?” Hollis added. “And did he really intend to destroy the world?”
Tessa joined in. “How was Bambi able to hide her true intentions from Samuel? She didn’t read as psychic, and her mind seemed to be an open book.”
Bishop had an answer for that one. “It was because she wasn’t psychic, i
ronically. He’ll never admit it on the record, but Senator LeMott had her hypnotized, and planted very deeply and very carefully some post-hypnotic suggestions. That word he used out there today, ‘viper’? That was the trigger, what activated the order to kill. Until that moment, even Bambi wasn’t conscious of what she was going to do. Because she wasn’t conscious of it, Samuel didn’t read it.”
Quentin said, “I thought a person couldn’t be hypnotized to do something as drastic as killing against their will.”
“They can’t, according to all the research.” Bishop shrugged. “LeMott found himself someone entirely willing to kill. For a price.”
“The female of the species,” Quentin said, adding a hasty “Present company excepted, obviously.”
Sawyer said, “Do my questions count? Because I’ve got a lot of ’em, beginning with why all my officers act like they’re finally awake and ending with the significance of that medallion DeMarco said Sarah Warren had on her when she was killed.” “I can only answer the ones about Haven,” Tessa told him. “And probably not all of those. But the medallion is something we all carry when we’re on assignment.”
“It’s a start,” the chief said with a sigh.
Slowly, Bishop said, “What I really want to know is, who told the Director that Galen was shot and killed?”
Abruptly serious, Quentin said, “Only three witnesses were there that night. We both know it wasn’t Reese.”
Bishop nodded. “Which leaves the two church members he was with—Carl Fisk and Brian Seymour.”
“Funny thing,” Quentin said. “Brian Seymour hasn’t been seen since his last shift in the security control room late last night.”
“So . . . was he working for the Director?” Sawyer wondered out loud. “Or for somebody else who wanted to keep an eye on the SCU? Just how many enemies do you have, Bishop?”
“At least one more than I need,” Bishop answered. “And that’s the one I’m going to have to find.”