or even to the prior incident. It's all just speculation, which isn't enough to justify the expense of posting a guard for anyone, including you.'

'Me? I…I don't need a guard. I mean, the guy doesn't even know who I am.'

'Have you forgotten about the Trib article?' Dan asked, his expression grim.

'Damn!' He had to think, but was finding it difficult. His head still ached from the concussion, and he massaged his brow.

Why did that reporter have to write that story now? Why did she have to write it at all? How was he going to take care of things with the camera if he had a media entourage? He swallowed a groan but pushed that problem aside for the moment. Right now, he needed to figure out what he should do about the cult guy, Kern.

Mark tilted back in his chair, letting a sigh escape. 'I don't know what to do. Maybe I can just hope he doesn't read the Tribune?'

'Well, then he'd have to avoid TV and radio too. Seriously. You're a huge story right now and the guy would have to be living under a rock to not know who you are.' Jessie's voice held a touch of anger, but Mark couldn't tell who it was directed at so he ignored it for now, wondering about something else she had said.

He leaned towards her. 'Television and radio?' Mark hadn't tuned in to either yet today, and dread at her reply began to build.

Jessie exchanged a look with Dan, and Mark felt a flicker of irritation. What was with all the secret looks?

She turned to him. 'It's true. We had the radio on in the car on the way over, and a least a couple of shock jocks were talking about you. One referenced something he'd seen on TV already.'

Mark bent forward over the desk and wrapped his arms around the back of his head, unable to suppress the groan this time. Things just got better and better all the time.

'Speaking of the Tribune…do you have any plans to respond to the accusation-or whatever you want to call it?' Jessie asked.

He wanted nothing more than to keep hidden in the safety and darkness of his arms or better yet, crawl back into bed and pull the covers up. He raised his head and scrubbed his hands down his face. 'No.'

'No?' Dan's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Mark shrugged. 'What's to be gained by responding? It would just add fuel to the fire. We all know it's just a reporter exaggerating stuff for the sake of a story. If I ignore it, it'll just die away sooner.' He looked at his watch and jumped up. 'Damn! I have to get going. Hey, I wonder if you guys could do a favor for me?'

'Maybe. What kind of favor?' Dan exchanged yet another look with Jessie. Mark envied their unspoken communication

Snatching his jacket off the back of his chair, Mark shrugged into it. 'I just need a diversion so I can get out of here without attracting a whole slew of media. I have that errand to run.'

Jessie arched an eyebrow in his direction while gathering up the photos and putting them back in the folder. 'What kind of errand is it, Mark? Do you have another damsel in distress to go rescue?'

Mark paused while straightening his collar, and then resumed the act with a casual air. He didn't want to discuss anything in front of Dan. Jessie had mentioned telling her partner about the camera and dreams at one point, but it had been while Mark had still been locked up. He didn't know if Dan knew the full story. 'Not exactly. It's more like I have to go pay my ER bill-hate to let those things linger-and maybe run up and see Judy, if she's still a patient.' It was the truth even if it wasn't the whole truth.

'No problem, Mark. Come on, Jessie, let's go out there and create a ruckus.' Dan wiggled his eyebrows at Jessie. 'I know what we can do to divert their attention. I can make a pass at you, and you can slap me!'

'Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?' Jessie smirked. 'I have a better idea. Let's just go tell them that Mark is resting after an ordeal last night.'

Mark waited a few moments until he heard a loud commotion in front of the building. Hoping that was his cue, Mark opened the back door a smidgen and peeked out just in time to see a reporter running from the back door around the side of the studio to the street in front.

He took the opportunity and raced out the door as quickly as he could. After a couple of minutes of brisk walking, he dared to sneak a look over his shoulder and was relieved to see that nobody was following him. Sighing, he pulled out notes he'd made upon waking this morning and re-read the details of the child's impending fall.

CHAPTER FOUR

Adrian Kern read the article for the fifth time then slammed the paper onto the table. 'What a bunch of shit!' He sneered at the smiling photo of Mark Taylor. 'Damn do-gooder.'

First, this Taylor guy disrupts last night's ceremony and now the man was all over the news, taking headlines that should rightfully have belonged to him. How was he going to gain any power and prestige if nobody knew what he was capable of doing? Of course, if he'd been successful last night, only his accomplishment would have been in the news, not his identity, but, that wasn't the point. Now, he looked like a failure to his followers.

Last night was supposed to be a punishment for the girl, but more importantly, it had been meant to show his absolute power over the group-the guild-as he liked to think of them. It had taken months of careful preparation to set the stage. He'd had to find the perfect sacrifice. Someone who appeared pure and innocent. If he could get the guild to sacrifice her, he could get them to do anything and claim it was Satan's command.

How many times had he warned his followers of Satan's disappointment and need for retribution? The groundwork had been laid with the precision of a master architect building a monument.

Judy Medea hadn't been a random recruit, although she didn't know it. Kern had set out months ago to find the right person. She had to be young and at least give the impression of innocence. When he'd spotted Medea working at a coffee shop near the university, he just knew she was the one. After striking up a conversation with her, he realized just how perfect she was. Estranged from her family and struggling to make it through college on her own, she was desperate for money.

It wasn't long before he had her running a few errands for extra money. After that, he'd convinced her to move into the guild's quarters and save money. Soon, she was a devoted member, her college aspirations put on hold.

Just when she was content, he'd planted the seeds of doubt in her mind. Just a comment here and there about how it was too bad she wasn't going to get her degree.

It all fell into place when she told him she wanted to go back to school. All he had to do was bait the other members with examples of everything they had sacrificed for the good of the group. After all they had done for her, how dare Medea think she could just walk out and take what they had so generously given?

Kern smiled at the memory. Oh, he had been in top form and the guild had devoured his speech like a pack of wolves feasting on a downed deer.

The drums and chants had built the cult's frenzy to a fever pitch and just at the moment when justice would have been served, Taylor had spoiled it all. Kern had considered killing the man right then, but the ritual had already been ruined.

Everything had to be just right during a ceremony or the group members would lose faith in him. There was no way he'd let that happen. On the spur of the moment, he'd decided to allow Taylor and Medea to go free, confident that he would exact his revenge in the near future. He always did.

One of his followers had shown him the Tribune article first thing this morning and later a local morning show had discussed Taylor. The story seemed to have been picked up fast by other news sources as well. Kern snatched the newspaper off the table and strode to the door leading to the common room, scowling when the door emitted a loud creak as he opened it. This place was a dump. The group's former residence in Oak Park had been much nicer.

He missed the spacious old Victorian set well back from the road. It had afforded them the room and privacy they needed to operate. With five large bedrooms, it had housed twenty members. If only he hadn't been forced to abandon it and lay low for a while.

Kern knew he'd been lucky to get this one cheap because the prior owner had defaulted on the loan, but even so, he cursed the leaky plumbing, warped floors and dingy walls. The home had been listed as a two flat with three

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