Kay Hooper - Blood Sins

It helped that there were no longer any dogs acting as alert and faithful guards in the night. He wondered if they had thought of that. If they might have regretted that. If they had even guessed it might happen.

Ah, well. Hardly his fault if they were unable to think like soldiers.

It was what happened when amateurs tried to make war.

Things got sloppy.

With a shrug, he slipped over the fence and into the Compound. There was virtually no moonlight tonight, with the full moon ten days in the past and overcast skies to boot. He didn't mind. He adapted easily to the night and preferred darkness. He worked his way across the fields and through the woods and the undergrowth that also provided something of a barrier, at least for a casual intruder: big, prickly holly bushes.

Not fun, but also not unbreachable.

Within minutes, he was through the woods and into the clear fields on the other side, in the central area of the Compound.

Where all the homes lay.

Where the church lay.

He had a set pattern in mind, a definite plan, and followed it methodically, moving from house to house in utter silence. At each small, neat cottage, he probed the exterior of the building, pinpointing every piece of electronic security and then tagging it with a very tiny electronic device of his own. An electronics expert would have been hard-pressed to spot it; he didn't expect any of these amateurs to.

No one would discover his handiwork.

He began at the outer edges of the Compound and circled his way in, moving house to house, toward the church itself, keeping an eye to that direction all the way. But the church was still and silent. No one came or went; only a few lights on the upper floors illuminated two or three of the stained-glass windows.

There was an almost eerie quiet out here, he acknowledged.

In January there weren't even crickets, or bullfrogs calling from the river, and without summer sounds or dogs barking, it was silent.

Strange and uncomfortable, that realization. He who enjoyed silence had finally found a place where it screamed at him.

Shaking off the decidedly unpleasant sensation, he went on, keeping to his schedule. By the time he reached the main building, even the few lights on the upper floors had gone out, and the interior was dark and silent. It would have been a peaceful sight, if not for the security lights casting pools of bright, harsh light around each entrance.

He didn't worry about those.

It took him more than half an hour to slowly work his way around the very large church. He was more careful now, efficient, less inclined to assume he was dealing with amateurs.

Because not all of them were.

He found and tagged more than two dozen cameras and an equal number of motion detectors, and by the time he reached that point, he was grimly certain there were experts involved in protecting at least this building. And they were very, very good.

Almost too good.

But he was good himself, and though it required that he'd spend at least two more hours than he planned in the Compound, he was reasonably sure he had found everything of interest. Not absolutely positive but reasonably sure, which was all he had been aiming for on this trip.

He glanced toward the eastern sky and saw the first gray beginnings of dawn but lingered another few minutes to check some of the locked doors. Then he planted just a few more of his own devices and retreated toward the fence, leaving as silently unobserved as he had come.

Or so he thought.

Tessa didn't sleep well, which was hardly surprising. It took a lot out of her to open herself up like that, especially in a place that literally radiated negative energy.

Negative energy in a church.

A giant red warning flag from the universe, that.

She had gone over everything with Hollis but hadn't been able to offer a decent interpretation to the federal agent. Because the truth was, Tessa had never experienced anything quite like that.

"Cases almost always affect our abilities, usually in unexpected and unpredictable ways," Hollis had told her, more resigned than anything else. "Considering what we know about Samuel, that he's probably one of the most powerful psychics we've ever encountered, it stands to reason the energy there is going to be supercharged, for want of a better word."

"You mean not just more but more powerful?"

"Negative energy tends to be."

Tessa frowned. "I can't say I like the sound of that."

"None of us does. The problem is, most of us deal with, positive energyliterallyin our own abilities. We don't know why, but that's what all the science we have to depend on is telling us."

"Good guys equal positive? And bad guys equal negative?"

"Weird, isn't it? Like I said, we don't know why that would be true. Maybe it's just a chemical thing in our brains; the same hardwiring that makes us inclined to be cops or investigators also makes our psychic abilities work from the positive pole. And whatever wiring gets crossed to produce a sociopath also causes any psychic energy to be negative in those particular brains."

"Because it's all about balance."

"That's the theory."

"Mmm. So in this case my own abilities aren't going to work the way they always have?"

"If I had to guess, especially after your experience today, I'd say probably not. Energy affects us. And negative energy can affect us in some really bad, really painful ways. I speak from bitter experience."

"But there's no way for me to know just how my abilities may have changeduntil the change becomes obvious?"

"Yeah, pretty much. The good news is, it's seldom a drastically different ability but an expansion or enhancement of the ability or abilities you already possessed."

Tessa had been warned about that, but as with so many things about being psychic, experience was really the only teacher. Up until now, she had never experienced any drastic change in her abilitiesuntil she sat in that bathroom stall inside the Church of the Everlasting Sin and deliberately opened up her mind, expecting the usual jumble of thoughts and emotions.

She had not expected actual physical sensations.

Her body still felt sore from the waves of pain it had endured inside the church.

And no use telling herself it had all been in her mind. Like most psychics, she had long ago discovered the often unpleasant truth that what happened in the mind could be and, in fact, usually was far more "real" than anything the outer five senses could claim.

She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, her mind replaying what she had seen and heard and sensed in that place, all the disjointed emotions and fragmented thoughts. Always circling back to that final, oddly chilling statement.

I'm hungry.

Who was hungry? Hungry for what? Everyone had certainly looked well-fed and, besides, every instinct told her it was not food that voice, that presence, hungered for. So what was it?

And who was it that had offered the simple I see you ?

A friend, or at least a potential ally? Someone trying to tell her that another mind up there was capable of communicating in silence and secret?

Or bait on a hook?

Tessa pulled her pillow around so that she was as much hugging it as resting her head on it, conscious of a strange, unsettling feeling. She kept wanting to look over her shoulder, though every time she did there was only her bedroom in the Gray family home, illuminated for her by the light she left on in her bathroom. It was, admittedly, a space that was still strange to her, but until this night she had not felt uneasy here.

Not felt as though someone was watching her. Almost as though someone was, even now and very lightly, touching her back.