Divine Trilogy

by Cheryl Kaye Tardif

  "We're about to find out, Brandon."

  Tribal drums echoed in the night air as the moon rose gracefully above them. The tempo increased with every step Jasi took, lending a sense of urgency to her actions.

  "They really know how to put on a show," Brandon said.

  "Reminds me of that scene in King Kong, when Jessica Lange is tied up and left as an offering to Kong."

  "There won't be any human sacrifices tonight."

  But Jasi wasn't so sure. "If this turns freaky, we're out of here. Okay?"

  Brandon squeezed her hand. "In an instant."

  "I believe we've reached our destination." She paused hesitantly, taking in the scene before her.

  In a clearing east of the largest barn, sat a massive teepee with open door flaps. Outside, two men drummed, the tempo reverberating in the otherwise peaceful night air. One by one, members of Sanctuary filed inside.

  "It's already freaky," she muttered.

  "We're gaining their trust, Jasi. Eventually someone's going to talk to us, give us a clue."

  Inhaling deeply, she headed toward the teepee. "We'll see."

  A second later she was swallowed up by the cavernous mouth of the teepee.

  She shivered, though it was anything but cold inside. Wooden benches lined the sides of the teepee, graduating in height toward the back. In the center, a metal pit contraption held hot stones that gleamed like red eyes. The stones hissed when a man in a black hooded cloak flicked a few drops of water over them.

  She sniffed. No indication of smoke. Reassured, she let out a slow breath.

  "You good?" Brandon asked as they sat in the back row close to the exit.

  A bead of sweat trickled down her brow. "I'll survive."

  In the hazy light cast only by the glowing stones and the scant rays of the moon that filtered in through the doorway, she tried to make out some familiar faces. Christiansen's wives sat up front. Amanda sat next to her mother and occasionally peeked over her shoulder at Eric, who sat three rows behind.

  Jasi felt sympathy for them. With Amanda's impending engagement to an older man, poor Eric didn't stand a chance. She wondered what would happen if Christiansen found out they had feelings for one another.

  "Christiansen's right-hand man is here," Brandon whispered.

  She spotted Lazarus a few feet away, on the other side of the opening. Was he guarding the door to ensure no one left?

  The drums outside ceased, and the drummers entered the teepee and closed the flaps. Thrown into almost complete darkness, Jasi waited, anxious to ease the rush of unexpected claustrophobia. After a second, her hand drifted of its own accord toward Brandon, and she felt immediate relief when he grasped it.

  One by one, the room was illuminated by the glow of a dozen candles that circled the stone pit, and her confidence returned—until the figure in the center of the room dropped his hood.

  Christiansen.

  Something about the way he stood—the supreme arrogance that emanated from him—combined with the gullible adoration of the cult members made her blood curdle.

  "Welcome, my family." Christiansen smiled and spread his arms. "And a special greeting to our esteemed guests from the CFBI. Tonight we celebrate the rebirth of one of our children. Katie, please join me."

  As the girl made her way to Christiansen, Jasi noted that Katie's expression was one of pride and happiness. She'd found a new family to replace the one she'd left behind. But did the girl really understand the implications of her actions? By joining Sanctuary, Katie would be expected to give up all communication with her birth parents and any other natural family members—forever.

  Jasi couldn't imagine being permanently separated from Pop and her brother, Brady. It was hard enough knowing she'd never see her beautiful mother again.

  "Katie, have you chosen your name?" Christiansen asked.

  "Yes, Father. My new name is Mia." She spelled it.

  Jasi clued in immediately. Mia...as in Jeremiah.

  Christiansen's eyes registered surprise, and pride washed over him. "Then Mia it shall be."

  Lazarus approached them, a rough burlap sack in his hands. With the help of Christiansen, he proceeded to pull the sack over Katie's body.

  Jasi hissed in a breath. What the hell?

  When the girl was completely encapsulated by the sack, they picked her up and positioned her on the ground, tying the sack beneath her feet. Christiansen and Lazarus stepped back and a hush fell over the room.

  The sack twitched.

  "It's time to be born, Mia," Christiansen said.

  The sack rolled and twisted.

  "Let me out!" Katie's muffled voice cried. "I don't like this!"

  "Push, Mia!"

  "Push!" the crowd chanted.

  "I can't breathe!" the girl said, sobbing. "Let me out! Please!"

  "We can't just sit here," Jasi whispered to Brandon.

  He patted her hand. "We can't interfere unless there's imminent danger. Otherwise everything we've worked for here will be lost."

  Brandon was right, but it didn't make it any easier to witness the girl's distress. The sack jerked back and forth, and Katie's sobs grew more panicked with every passing minute. When her hand reappeared from the opening of the sack, the cheering began.

  "Push, Mia!" Christiansen commanded.

  Without warning, the sack opened and Katie emerged, her eyes streaming with tears. Christiansen gathered her in his arms, comforting her.

  "This is the beginning of your new life." He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the room. "From tonight forth, we acknowledge the existence of our new daughter and sister, Mia."

  A murmur of "Welcome, Mia" swept through the teepee.

  Jasi caught herself saying the words and clamped her mouth closed.

  Katie returned to her seat near the front, a wide grin on her face.

  Christiansen gave a nod. The drummers began to softly beat their drums, while all but one candle was extinguished and the room darkened. A hiss of steam rose from the stones.

  "And now we prepare our hearts and minds for the ritual of release," the obscured figure that was Christiansen said. "I ask you, dear family and friends, to close your eyes and focus on the beating drums. Imagine them as your own heartbeat, strong and full of life."

  "No way I'm closing my eyes," Jasi said to Brandon.

  "Trust me. Nothing's going to happen here. They wouldn't risk it."

  Still, she didn't trust anyone in the teepee, except Brandon.

  The steady beating made her tired. She let her eyes wander around the room, but she couldn't make out anything other than obscure blobs. No one made a sound, not even a cough.

  The drums were mesmerizing, lulling her. It had been a long, tiring day. She inhaled hot, damp air and leaned against Brandon. Sweat rolled down her skin, over her cheeks, between her breasts. She felt as though she were on fire, from the inside.

  Against her will, her eyes drifted shut. Just for a moment.

  "Jasi?"

  Her eyes flickered open. "What?"

  Beside her, Brandon whispered, "I didn't say a thing."

  She closed her eyes again.

  "Jasi? Can you hear me? It's Emily?"

  She had to be imagining things. Emily only came to her at night, in her dreams. Except that other time…when she helped her in the woods.

  I dreamt that too.

  Hadn't she?

  Emily stood before her, blonde hair shimmering over her shoulders and blue eyes filled with terror. But she looked very different from Jasi's usual dreams. Emily was older, in her late teens. All traces of her normal bluish lips, mottled bruises and the jagged bruise across her neck had disappeared.

  "You're not dreaming, Jasi. I'm here, but I only have a few minutes."

  "Emily? What's wrong?"

  "There's not much time left. He's going to kill me. I overheard him say it."

  "To who?"

  "No one. I think he was just muttering out loud. He's losing it
, and I'm scared."

  "Can you tell me who has you?"

  Emily shook her head. "There's some kind of block. Whenever I try to say his name, I can't."

  "Do you have any idea where you are?"

  "No. He brought me here, blindfolded, years ago."

  "But you're in a house?"

  "I think so. I'm in the basement."

  "Any windows?"

  "None. I have a light, water…food sometimes."

  "And you have no idea where this house is?"

  "Somewhere in BC, about half an hour, I think, from the last place I was living. He moves me every so often."

  "Are you sure you're in BC?"

  "Yes. The furnace has a sticker with a 604 phone number on it."

  "What else?"

  "The house is near a river. I heard rushing water when we were arriving. And maybe a bridge. The car traveled over something hard, then gravel."

  "Any neighbors?"

  "I don't think so. I can't hear anything outside other than his car."

  "How long have you been at this place?"

  "I don't know. A year, maybe longer."

  "And how long have you lived with him?"

  Emily's eyes filled with tears. "Ever since I can remember."

  "Why haven't you contacted me sooner?"

  "He's been drugging me to keep me compliant. Today I poured the jug of water he brought me down the drain."

  "You need water to survive, Emily."

  "I'm okay. I cut into the water line, and I'm using it to fill the jug."

  Emily reached out, and when her hand touched Jasi's face it sent a tremor down Jasi's spine. Every nerve in her body sizzled. She had somehow felt Emily's touch.

  "So you're not a dream or nightmare?"

  Emily shook her head and swiped at a tear. "No."

  "But how is this possible? How can you be communicating with me like this?"

  "I have no idea. Whenever I've tried to reach out, I've only connected with you." Emily let out a sharp gasp. "He's coming, Jasi!"

  "You said you overheard him talking earlier. What did he say exactly?"

  "He said I'd let him down. And that I'd be dead by my birthday."

  "When's that?"

  "He said it was in three days."

  As the pounding of drums infiltrated Jasi's mind, Emily's body began to dissolve, atom by atom. "I'll find you, Emily."

  "You have to. You're my only hope."

  13

  As everyone filed out of the teepee, most of them withdrawn and covered in a sheen of sweat, Jasi watched their faces for furtive looks or glances, hoping someone would reveal something. No one said a word.

  "Well, that was fun," Brandon said dryly.

  "You have any out-of-body experiences?" she asked, arching a brow.

  "No. The only experience I had was one of discomfort."

  She laughed. "Wait 'til I tell you mine."

  The drummers had resumed their positions outside the flaps and were beating a somber rhythm. One of them, an older man with piercing black eyes, stared at Jasi. She trembled, unsure if this was a result of the cold night air hitting her hot, wet skin, or the man's intense gaze.

  "Come on," she urged. "I need to put on some dry clothes."

  "Agent McLellan," a voice said behind her.

  Turning, she recognized Beth, one of Christiansen's wives

  "Mrs. Christiansen."

  "Beth, please."

  Jasi waited while the young woman gathered her courage.

  "I just wanted to thank you."

  "What for?"

  Beth shrugged. "Hannah's daughter told us you talked to her. That you were nice to Amanda."

  It seemed odd that the woman was so interested in the treatment of one of the other wives' children.

  "I'm just doing my job, Beth."

  "Where I come from, police don't treat anyone with respect. So I just wanted to thank you. Oh, and that woman who died?"

  "Yes?"

  "Nan wasn't liked around here."

  "Why do you say that?"

  Beth chewed on her lower lip. "She was supposed to do her silence with dignity, but kept asking questions. Too many, if you ask me."

  Jasi thought about Sheral Downham. The woman was a reporter pretending to be a hooker. It couldn't have been easy switching roles. "Maybe she was trying to get to know you, make friends?"

  "Being nosy isn't the way to do that. Not around here. And she kept sneaking off to the river when she thought no one was looking."

  Jasi attempted an indifferent shrug. "Perhaps she wanted to take a bath."

  Beth's eyes flared. "That's a kind of indecency you won't find here."

  Jasi studied her. What other kinds of indecencies will we find? "Did you talk to Nancy Davison?"

  "Not after she started asking me about my husband." Beth lifted her chin. "It's not right to show interest in another woman's man unless you're married to him."

  Jasi exchanged looks with Brandon.

  "Beth!"

  The woman whipped around, her eyes wide with fear. Christiansen stood a few feet away, glaring at her as though she'd committed a terrible crime.

  "Coming, Husband," Beth said as she scurried toward him, almost shrinking in stature with each step.

  Jasi caught Brandon's eye. "Don't ever think you can command me like that."

  He chuckled. "I learned a long time ago to let you take the lead. I quite enjoy following you." Smirking, he lowered his gaze to her rear end.

  She elbowed him, and he grunted.

  She watched as Christiansen leaned down and whispered something in Beth's ear. The woman's face blanched. With a nod and downcast eyes, she gathered her skirt and rushed off.

  Christiansen made a beeline toward them. "Tonight is a time for celebration. I thought I made that clear."

  "We still have an investigation to conduct," Brandon said.

  "We have been more than cooperative. But tonight is Mia's night and a time for peaceful reflection, not to harass the innocent."

  Jasi almost told him the sweat lodge had been anything but peaceful. Instead she said, "We'll need samples of DNA from everyone over the age of thirteen."

  Christiansen blinked. "Is that really necessary?"

  "We want to rule out the innocent, don't we?" She gave him a sweet smile.

  He sighed with exaggerated impatience. "Fine. Can we do this in the morning? I promise. No one will be leaving Sanctuary tonight."

  "Morning it is." Turning to Brandon, she said, "Come on. I'm freezing."

  Back in the cabin they changed into warm, dry clothes and sat down on the sofa to process the evening's events. When Jasi told him about Emily, she could see his analytical mind churning. He still found it difficult at times to grasp the power of her mind. Hell, so did she.

  "I know it sounds crazy, Brandon. I wasn't sleeping so I couldn't have been dreaming. The only way I can describe it is that Emily…reached out to me."

  She tried to make sense of her vision in the teepee. Without doubt, any sane person would chalk her little chat with Emily up to extreme heat and humidity, lack of sleep and undeniable stress from the case. But nothing seemed sane where Emily was concerned.

  "I have three days, Brandon. What am I supposed to do?"

  "You could ask Matthew to remove you from this case, assign someone else."

  "I can't do that. It's not fair to Sheral Downham. She deserves justice."

  "What about Emily?"

  "Her too." She groaned. "I am so torn, Brandon. I want to find the bastard who killed Sheral, and I have to find Emily before she turns up dead too."

  "And you're positive she exists?"

  She gawked at him. "Of course I'm positive. My conversations with her have been far too detailed for them to be anything other than real. I don't understand this connection I have with Emily. This kind of…gift has never surfaced before with any PSI I know. And I never had any signs of it until Emily first appeared when I was a kid."

  "Could be she's t
he only one you share this with." He rubbed his chin. "That's weird in itself. Why her?"

  She shrugged. "Perhaps she's a Level 1 like me."

  All psychics evaluated by the CFBI for entry into the PSI Division were evaluated on the strength and reliability of their psychic skills and assigned a level rank accordingly. Jasi was one of few Level 1 psychics. Natassia was another.

  "How about this?" Brandon said. "We'll work the Sanctuary case, but in between we'll try to figure out where Emily is."

  "I was hoping you'd say that. So you'll help me?"

  He gave a nod. "Just tell me what you need."

  She leapt from the sofa, ran to his side and threw her arms around him. "What I need?" Her lips met his and warmth flowed through her body. "All I need is you. And the knowledge that you believe me and don't think I've completely lost it."

  He stroked her face with both hands. "Not completely."

  She swatted him. "Okay. Where do we start?"

  He jerked his head toward the bedroom.

  "With Emily, I mean," she said, laughing.

  "We make a list of everything you know about her."

  "Let's begin. It shouldn't take very long."

  An hour later, Jasi had her list. There wasn't much to go on, but she had more now than she did a year ago. Still, some things didn't quite make sense. Like why Emily had a southern accent when Jasi had first heard her speak, yet now that accent was gone. And why had the girl's wounds vanished? Emily had first come to her as a ghostly-white dead girl, and now she appeared almost the picture of health.

  "What do you think?" Jasi asked Brandon.

  "Maybe you've prevented those injuries from happening somehow because of something you've said or done. Or even the fact that you and Emily have this mind-meld thing going."

  "That's a positive thing then."

  He reached out and touched her arm. "You'll find her. I have faith in you."

  "I don't have a choice. I have to find her. Someone plans to murder her in three days."

  She glanced down at her data-com. She'd already set a countdown timer and it was ticking down minute by minute.

  "I sent Ops a request for a search for any girl or woman named Emily who has been missing for the past twenty years," Brandon said. "I think by widening the field parameters we may have more luck."