Divine Evil

She held up a hand, trying to stop herself. “I'm not making sense. I need to get to Cam. Can you follow me?”
    “I don't think you're in any shape to drive. Why don't you let me take you home?”
    “I'm fine,” she told him when he stepped out of the car. “We can't stay here. They've already killed the Jamison girl and probably Biff. It's dangerous.” Her breath hissed as she felt the prick of a needle on her arm.
    “Yes, it is.” There was regret in his voice as he sent the drug screaming into her bloodstream. “I'm very sorry, Clare. I tried very hard to protect you from this.”
    “No.” She struggled away, but her vision was already wavering. “Oh, God, no.”

Chapter 29
    I T WAS A DREAM . In dreams you didn't really feel anything, and voices floated in and around your head. She had to open her eyes and wake up. Then she would find herself curled on her sofa, groggy from a late nap.
    But when she was able to lift her heavy lids, she saw a small room, draped in black. The symbol of Baphomet leered down at her. Panic struggled with the drug so that she tried to move her weighted limbs. Her wrists and ankles were bound. The scream that ripped through her mind came through her lips as a moan. Since she couldn't be heard, she had no choice but to listen.
    “She can't stay here.” Charlie Griffith paced on the other side of the platform. His hood was thrown back now, revealing his mild brown hair and worried eyes. “Damn it, it isn't safe for any of us as long as she's here.”
    “Let me worry about safety. I always have.” The mayor ran his long, bony fingers along his silver pendant. His smile was faint, even mocking, but Charlie was too wound up to notice.
    “If Doc hadn't been so late and run into her right outside—”
    “But he did,” Atherton pointed out. “We're protected. How could you doubt it?”
    “I'm not—I don't—it's just that—”
    “Your father helped form our brotherhood.” Atherton laid a hand on Charlie's shoulder, more in restraint than comfort. “You were the first of the new generation. I depend on you, Charles, for your good sense, your discretion, and your loyalty.”
    “Of course, of course. But holding a service here is entirely different than keeping her here. I have to think of my family.”
    “We all think of our families and of each other's. She'll be moved.”
    “When?”
    “Tonight. I'll see to it myself.”
    “James …” Charlie hesitated, afraid his words would show not only his fear, but his doubts. “You have my loyalty, as you have for more than ten years when my father brought me to be initiated. But Clare … I grew up with her.”
    As if in benediction, Atherton grasped Charlie's shoulders. “Destroy before you are destroyed. Is this not the Law?”
    “Yes, but … if there was another way.”
    “There is only one way. His way. I believe she was sent. We know there are no accidents, Charles, yet she came here tonight. I believe her blood will purify, will make clean the smear that her father tried to mark us with so many years ago. She will be the sacrifice to appease Him for the betrayal of one of our own.” Atherton's eyes glittered in the shadowy light, with delight and with hunger. “Your son, it will not be long before he joins us.”
    Charlie wet his lips. “Yes.”
    “Take comfort in that, knowing that the next generation will prosper and succeed through His power. Go, and leave this to me. I want you to contact the others, see that they're calm and quiet. On the night of the solstice, we'll meet and sacrifice, and grow stronger.”
    “All right.” There was no other way, and the Law left no room for guilt or conscience. “Do you need any help?”
    Atherton smiled, seeing that he had once again overpowered the weak. Domination was his drug of choice. “Mick will be all the help I need.”
    Atherton waited until Charlie slipped through the curtain before turning to Clare. He knew she was conscious and listening. It pleased him. “You should have left the boy alone,” he said. “He's already mine.” Bending, he took her face in his hand, turning it from side to side. “Still a little glassy-eyed,” he observed, “but you understand well enough.”
    “I understand.” Her voice came to her ears as if through a tunnel. “It's been you, all these years. You killed that poor girl.”
    “Her, and others. The Master demands His sacrifice.”
    “You don't believe that. You can't.”
    He pursed his lips as he often did