Blood Sins

frowned at DeMarco. 'Does Samuel leave the Compound often? Because I had the sense he was pretty reclusive up there.'

'He is now. Has been since last fall. Before then he'd go off for a few days or a week now and then, with an especially long trip occasionally. Last summer he was gone the better part of six weeks, even though he came back here several times over that stretch. It was usual for him to come back with a new recruit or two and say he'd been a guest preacher at this church or that revival. We'd no reason to suspect he was doing anything else.'

'He wasn't followed when he left here?'

'No. My instructions were to infiltrate the cult and do as much as I could to make myself indispensable to Samuel and his operations. That meant staying here and keeping things running whenever he left.'

'And fomenting a little rebellion?' Hollis suggested.

'I didn't discourage it. In hindsight, I should have.' He wasn't apologetic or regretful, merely matter-of- fact.

She nodded.

Sawyer said to DeMarco, 'I gather you're responsible for the electronic security up at the Compound?'

'Samuel wanted some state-of-the-art gadgets installed, and I know a bit about that sort of thing. I also have contacts. Military contacts. He liked that.'

Hollis said, 'Which is all well and good, but how did you manage to convince him you're a believer? Unless you are?' She was looking steadily at him, clearly bothered by that point.

'You won't see it,' DeMarco told her.

'See what?'

'My aura.'

When her blue eyes narrowed, sharpened, it was Quentin who said, 'Give it up, Hoillis, before you get a headache. Or have a stroke. Reese has a double shield.'

'I've never heard of anything like that before,' Hollis said, clearly dubious.

'I'm unique,' DeMarco drawled.

Half under his breath, Sawyer said, 'Jesus, I'm the one getting the headache.'

Quentin offered him a faint smile. 'Information overload? Well, the main thing you need to understand is that Reese, like Tessa, doesn't read as psychic, but he has an uncanny ability to create a persona that is readable when he allows it to be.'

'Convenient,' Hollis remarked.

'Useful,' Quentin corrected. 'Any psychic who manages to get through his top shield isn't likely to look for a secondary one, especially when they discover that manufactured personain this case, the bitter ex-military guy entirely willing to kill for, or possibly die for, a charismatic pseudoreligious leader.'

Chapter Fifteen

THE 'ROBE' WAS actually more like a dressor a nightgown. It was long, so thin it was nearly transparent, and sleeveless. It was white. 'The color of purity,' Emma Campbell said softly as she stood back and smiled at Ruby.

Ruby shivered, wondering again if she would ever feel warm. 'I can wear your cloak to the church, can't I, Mama? It's getting colder outside.'

'I suppose so. But you be sure to take it off once you're inside.'

'Yes, Mama.' Ruby was grateful for the warmth of the ankle-length stark black cloak and even more grateful that it covered the thin robe, but despite that she always felt uneasy wearing it. She didn't know for sure, but something told her that her mama had been wearing the cloak when she finally just went away.

Smiling, Emma Campbell said, 'You do as Ruth tells you, just like before. And do as Father tells you, of course. I'm so proud of you. Your daddy and I are both so proud of you.'

The painful lump rose in Ruby's throat again, so she merely nodded and tried not to think about her daddy. Or about her mama. Instead, she walked through the house and to the front door beside the shell named Emma Campbell.

'Be good. Remember.'

'Yes, Mama.' She went out into the chilly afternoon, walking steadily toward the church, concentrating hard on making her protective shell so strong even Father wouldn't be able to touch her through it.

Not the real her, at least.

And she didn't look back because she knew Emma Campbell had already returned to her sewing room.

It's needlework for her. And sewing for Amy's mom. Theresa's mom does quilts. Brooke's mom has all those jigsaw puzzles I know it all means something. Maybe he gives them things to do. So they don't have time to think.

So they don't want to think.

Maybe he found out what they like to do best and let them keep that.

Only that.

Ruby walked steadily to the church, seeing the other girls waiting on the steps for her. Seeing, with a catch inside, that Father had already replaced Brooke, as easily as though she had never existed.

Mara. Little Mara, only eleven, and visibly nervous at this, her first Ritual. And unlike the other two, she was wearing a long sweater over her robe.

Amy and Theresa, both thirteen, wore only the thin robes despite the cold.

They felt grown up in the robes, Ruby knew. They felt grown up, and special, and important to Father.

They felt Chosen.

'Hurry up, Ruby,' Amy called out to her impatiently.

'I'm coming,' Ruby responded, hearing the bright sparkle in her own voice, the sound of eagerness that was every bit as fake as the smile that curved her lips. She began to climb the steps to join her friends.

But she didn't hurry.

* * * *

'Sure that's just a persona?' Hollis muttered. 'Because the way I hear it, people who stay undercover for too long can get really lost in their role-playing.'

DeMarco glanced at her, then looked at Sawyer. 'That ability plus a few other characteristics make me an ideal candidate for undercover work. As Bishop discovered a few years ago.'

'So you're SCU?'

It was Bishop who replied. 'He's not FBI. But we realized early on that having operatives off the books would be helpful if not necessary in some situations.'

'I thought that's why you helped found Haven,' Tessa said, speaking up finally. She looked at Bishop. 'As a civilian offshoot of the SCU,' she added.

'A sister organization,' Bishop said. 'But Haven was set up primarily to provide short-term support, with operatives called in for specific, usually brief periods of time, to assist in criminal investigations. Most lead perfectly ordinary, normal lives the majority of the time, with their Haven work more like a series of temp jobs than anything else.'

'True enough,' Tessa agreed. 'On my last assignment, I didn't even have to unpack. And in my normal life, I design Web sites. Easy to set my own hours, work from home or on the road with a laptop, and take time 'off whenever I need to. Tailor-made for someone with a whole other life.'

Bishop nodded. 'It's different for those of us inside the FBI, and not just because it's a full-time job. Being an SCU agent means we're employees of the federal government all the time, with laws, rules, and regulations we're duty-bound to uphold.'

'Which can sometimes present problems,' Quentin murmured. 'For some of us.'

Sawyer wondered if he was talking about himself but didn't ask. On his long list of questions, that one seemed