3:28 p.m. Passion Ministry

Rachel groaned. Her jaw ached and a hammer slammed her right temple. For a moment, she thought it was the mother of all hangovers. Then, she felt his intense presence. The memories crashed in. She tried to sit up. Something speared her thigh. She yelped.

“Well, well, thought you’d never come out of your beauty sleep.”

“Screw you.” Rachel made a show of shifting her weight. Slipped the shard in her hand.

“You got a dirty mouth for such a pretty face.” Harry strode over.

She quickly averted her gaze. Last thing she wanted was to let him bleed her mind.

He stroked her hair. “Poor little Rachel.” She slapped his hand. He fell back in mock distress. “So. You know who I am?” He barked a wolfish laugh.

She waited.

Finally, he rose. “Rachel Willingdon, world’s greatest debunker of hoaxes, charlatans and shams.” He pounded the piano discordantly. “You just wouldn’t accept that I was the real thing.” A brush fire swept across his eyes. “If you’d picked up on me sooner, well, who knows? Jimmy might still be alive.”

“Bite me.”

He seized her forearms. “You killed him, not me. I gave you the touch. You did the rest.”

“No! It’s not true. It can’t be. I couldn’t have killed him!”

“I should be grateful,” he said. “You accomplished my mission. Big D’s gonna be real proud. Real proud.”

“Your mission? To kill a ten-year-old boy?”

“Not just any ten-year-old.” He waited a beat. “Jesus—the-absolute-dude-on-the-cross—Christ.”

“You... you killed Jimmy because you thought he was the Son of God?” Rachel smirked. “Harry! Whoever this Big D is, he’s going to whip your sorry ass. Jimmy isn’t the clone of Christ!”

“’Course he is! I could feel his special energy. I know.”

“He’s a clone, you piece of Satanic crap. Y’got that right, but Andrew’s, not Jesus Christ’s.”

“Andrew’s? What? I killed...”

The lights died. Rachel blinked into the sudden gloom. A gale-force wind swirled up. Pieces of equipment whirled, banged into the walls.

“No!” Harry ducked as a drum whipped past his head. Palms up in defense, he skittered back. Eyes bulging with panic.