Kay Hooper - Blood Sins

All that changed when he met Diana Brisco.

So it was less than a year since he'd begun actually seeing visions, and since they were still comparatively rare, he hadn't yet grown accustomed to the sheer power of them.

They still came out of nowhere with no warning, and they still brought him to his knees.

"Christ."

"Quentin?"

He knew Bishop was there with him, in the same roombut after the blinding burst of pain, the room shimmered and then faded, and in its place was hell.

Dark clouds rolled and banked heavily above, so dark they shut out the sunlight, and thunder boomed and echoed. The air above his head crackled and sparked with pure energy; acrid smoke stung his nostrils with a smell that turned his stomach and caused his soul to flinch, because it was a smell he recognized.

Burnt flesh.

He didn't want to but forced himself to turn and look at what he only vaguely recognized as the outdoor amphitheater used by Samuel and his congregation. It was a charred and scorched place now, the large boulders intended to be seats blackened, still smoking. And among the rocks were other still-smoking shapes.

Human shapes.

They were twisted and contorted in mute agony, and it was obvious that many of the adults had tried in vain to protect children. But none of them had had a chance, Quentin realized sickly.

He heard a scream and pivoted sharply, finding himself looking up at the area of the granite "pulpit" where Samuel preached.

Samuel stood on the pulpit, staring down at his dead followers, his expression chillingly serene. His hands were smoking.

At his feet, staring up at him, sat a dark-haired little girl, her expression every bit as serene as his.

"Ruby!"

It was Tessa who had screamed, who cried out the little girl's name. She was she was bound to a cross, one of four placed on either side of the pulpit. Ropes at her wrists and ankles would have held her securely; the monstrous iron spikes driven through her hands and feet were clearly intended to maim and torture.

Two of the other three crosses held identically bound figures, but only Tessa was conscious; the others were unconsciousor dead. Hollis and Chief Cavenaugh hung motionless.

There was a lot of blood.

Samuel looked at the little girl, then smiled tenderly. He placed his left hand on the top of her head.

Before Quentin's horrified eyes, she began to smolder and, without a sound, she burst into flames.

Tessa screamed again. Samuel turned his head to look at her, his smile fading, replaced by a slight frown, just barely this side of indifference. He looked at her, Quentin thought, as one would look at a fly that annoyed with its buzzing. Then, with his left hand still on the head of the burning child, he extended his right hand, and a jagged bolt of pure energy shot from his fingers toward Tessa.

"Quentin."

Blinking, drawing in a gulp of blessedly normal air, Quentin looked down at the hand gripping his arm, then up to meet Bishop's concerned gaze. "Jesus. How do you and Miranda stand this?" The hoarse sound of his own voice startled him.

"Practice." Bishop helped him to his feet, and into a nearby chair. "What did you see?"

"I sawhell. Listen, I need to get to the Gray house. Like ten minutes ago."

"Why?"

"Because they're about to make a very, very, very bad decision. Trust me on that. And I don't think anything short of an unexpected visit will dissuade them."

Bishop reached immediately for a phone. "The chopper can land in that clearing between the house and the road; that should get you close enough without alerting the farmhands."

"Can he get away this time of day?"

"He'll have to. I can't risk getting that close to the Compound, and we don't have another pilot available right now. Bring them back here."

"Sure?"

"Quentin, you're white as a sheet. I don't need it described to me to know you saw something we do not want to happen. So it's time we pool our resources. All of them."

SAMUEL WAS ALWAYScareful, when he used Ruth, not to drain her to the point of unconsciousness. Partly because he preferred to take the energy of younger women, and partly because Ruth's energy wasodd. He wasn't sure what was different about her, but over the years had come to understand that her role in his life and his ministry was different from the role other women played.

Perhaps it was because she had been with him longest and had known him through all the stages of his journey. Or perhaps it was simply that God had decreed she would stand with him in order to remind him, again and again, of the devil who had borne him.

Because he could never draw Ruth's energy without remembering

He was nearly twenty before he truly began to master the gifts God had bestowed with that bolt of lightning years before. Until then, he was erratic, uncertain when he would be able to hold a congregation spellbound with his power and when he would be forced to rely on the knowledge and tricks he had gained when preaching had been merely a means to earn enough for a bed and a meal or two.

But that day, that particular day, had been one of the more frustrating he'd endured, with his gifts eluding his grasp, and in the dark night he had found himself walking the streets of a cold and dirty city a lot like the one in which he had last seen his mother alive.

Perhaps that was why.

The whores were easy to find, as they always were, and he chose one with little thought beyond the knowledge that she was cleaner than most and promised him a room.

The room turned out to be at a rundown motel that brought back too many ugly memories, and in a rage, in the middle of the furtive act for which he'd paid, Samuel put his hands on her throat and began to strangle her.

He probably wasn't the first John to like his sex rough, but she must have seen something on his face or in his eyes, because she choked out a quick protest before he could cut off her breath completely.

"Waitdon't! I cando something for you. Something better"

"You can die," he grunted, fingers tightening.

"No! I canshow you death."

That got his attention. And earned her a reprieve. But he finished with her first, his hands still at her throat, just tight enough so that the sight of her red, sweating face and panicked eyes brought him to orgasm.

He got off her once he was done, stripping the condom off and tossing it into a corner, then using his own handkerchief to clean himself. He straightened his clothing, then sat on the bed beside her and stared down at her. She was no longer gasping, but watched him warily, as if afraid to even move.

"What did you mean? That you could show me death?"

She licked her lips nervously. "It's justmy grandma could see spirits. So can I. Is there anybody you want to talk to, honey? Anybody from the other side? Because I can make it so's you can talk to them."

Disgusted, he said, "You really think I'm going to fall for that bullshit? Where do you keep your crystal ball?"

"It ain't like that, honey, I swear! I'm no phony. I think about it, about opening a door to the other side, and the spirits almost always come through. I can see them and hear them."

"Can you?" He laughed and, obeying an impulse, lunged to once again grip her throat. "I think I want to be able to do that, honey . I think you're going to give me that. Aren't you?"

This time, she couldn't answer, because he was strangling her in earnest. And as he choked the life out of her, he reached. Reached with his mind, thrusting into her as his body had thrust into her just minutes before. Thrust and thrust and thrust

" Sammy ! What're you up to now, you little bastard?"