“Suspicious. That’s all. Suspicious.”

“So even though you suspected a clear-cut ethics violation, and even though it would’ve been to your political advantage to reveal your suspicions, you kept quiet about this incriminating incident for seven years. Let me tell you, Congressman-that’s what I find suspicious.”

“Objection!” Padolino bellowed.

“Sustained.” Herndon gave Ben a harsh look. “Watch yourself, counsel.”

Ben plowed ahead. “Sir, where was the desk in Senator Glancy’s office?”

“Same place it is today. In the rear center of the room, opposite the door, maybe ten feet back.”

“And did you stay in the doorway or did you step inside?”

“Well, I obviously didn’t step inside. You know what they say. Three’s a crowd.”

“And the couple you observed were behind the desk.”

“Yes. But I could see her clearly enough. Just off to the side and above the desk.”

“I don’t doubt it. But since you said the other person involved was lying down on the floor and she was facing him-his head would’ve been behind the desk. How on earth could you see him?”

For the first time, MacReady hesitated momentarily before answering, which Ben took as a personal triumph. “Well, his feet and hands were sticking out the side.”

“Could you see his face?”

“There was no doubt about who-”

“Please answer my question. Could you see his face?”

He sighed. “No, not as such. But it stands to reason-”

“That there was another person there. But you can’t say for sure who it was.”

MacReady rolled his eyes. “You’re right. I suppose it could’ve been anyone in Senator Glancy’s office, behind Senator Glancy’s desk, having sex with a woman who wanted Senator Glancy’s vote.”

“Move to strike,” Ben said, lips pursed.

“That will be sustained,” Judge Herndon said, giving MacReady the evil eye. “Are you done with this witness, Counsel?”

“Very done, your honor.” Oh so done. If he could’ve pulled MacReady off the stage with a hook, he’d have done it.

“Do you have any idea how busy I am?” Jones said, waving his arms in the air. “Any idea at all?”

“What’s his damage?” Daily whispered into Loving’s ear.

“Shh,” Loving muttered back. Loving and Daily had come to Ben’s borrowed office space near the courthouse. “I can handle it.” He laid his hand on Jones’s shoulder. “Jones, buddy, I know you’re buried in paperwork. I know you’ve been fieldin’ three times the usual motion practice. Just yesterday I heard Ben sayin’ how invaluable you were. How he’d be nothin’ without you.”

“He did?”

Loving smiled, hoping Ben hadn’t mentioned that Loving hadn’t been in the office for days. “He did. Problem is-I feel the same way. I could spend days stompin’ around the streets trying to track down this lead. Or you could probably figure it out in an hour. So you see why I came to you. I mean, I’m beggin’ you, Jonesey. I’m on bended knee here.”

“Oh, all right already,” Jones said, his face wrinkling. “What’s the sitch?”

Loving told him.

“Circle Thirteen? What the heck does that mean?”

“That’s what we were hopin’ you could tell us.”

“And that’s all you’ve got? Two words? Two very common words?” Jones turned to face the computer. “Jeez-this could take forever.”

“I know,” Loving said. “But even if it takes days, I’d appreciate it if you could-”

“Got it,” Jones announced.

“Huh? What?”

“I Googled it. Broadband is a wonderful thing. Amazing the stuff you can come up with…”

“Just like that?”

Jones smiled, obviously feeling very superior. “I have tried to show you how to use the computer.”

“I don’t like the computer.”

“Which is why I solved the mystery, and you didn’t.” Jones quickly scrolled down a webpage, scanning the text as he went. “Seems to be some sort of private club.”

“I checked the phone book. There was nothing.”

“I guess it’s a very private club. Besides-Circle Thirteen isn’t the name of the place. It’s the name of a group that meets there.” He continued scrolling. “Spooky-looking place. Spooky-looking people. Lots of black.”

“What a surprise,” Loving said dryly.

“They’re trying to keep strangers from getting past the home page. This site isn’t intended to be public-just a way for members to post messages privately, without leaving traces on someone else’s server. You need a password to gain entry.”

“Can you guess it?”

“I’ll do an end run.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means I’m going to sneak past their firewall and bust inside. I’ve got a little algorithm that might do the trick.”

Loving looked at Daily. “Do you understand what he’s talkin’ about? Because I don’t.”

Daily looked back at him sadly. “Amber is the computer whiz in the family. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just a big paperweight.”

“I’m in,” Jones crowed.

“Already?” Loving marveled. Jones was fast. Maybe he should consider not making fun of him at every opportunity. On second thought, naah.

“Oh my God,” Jones whispered, his jaw dropping. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Loving said, hovering behind him. “What’s Circle Thirteen?”

Jones took a deep breath. “Well, it isn’t a sewing circle. It’s more like… a coven.”

“A coven!” Daily stared at him in disbelief. “What are you saying? That they’re witches?”

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.” Jones swiveled around and offered Daily his seat in front of the monitor. “They’re vampires.”

13

A t first, there were no inhabitants in the small dark ceremonial chamber. It seemed like a chapel, despite being entirely devoid of Christian iconography. There was a stained-glass window just above and beyond the altar, but no light came through it, and the images, to the extent they could be discerned, were dark and grisly: portraits of bloodletting, blood sharing, and unholy acts of violence to women and children. The only cross, just behind the altar, was turned upside down, so that it pointed toward the earth rather than the sky.

Slowly, thirteen figures entered the room, single file. They were each wearing black hooded robes that covered them almost completely. Only the slightest traces of facial features were visible. They arranged themselves in the center of the room, lining the perimeter of a circle with a five-pointed star in the center.

A few moments later, another figure entered the room. The contrast was dramatic. This figure was smaller than the previous four, female, and moved haltingly, as if unsure what to do or where to go. Her robe was white. Tendrils of blond hair slipped from the front of the hood.

“Take your place in the pentagram,” one of the hooded men said. His voice was deep and commanding, and the female obeyed without hesitation. She moved to the center of the circle and was surrounded by the hooded figures.

“Are you ready for the ritual to begin?”

Her hood trembled up and down, nodding.

“Speak!”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

The man who had spoken, the tallest of them, stepped forward. He stood before her, gazing downward. He placed his hand upon her cheek, then slowly pushed the hood away, releasing an ample bounty of long golden hair and a face so young she could barely have been out of her teens. She stared, wide-eyed, as if she were powerless to look away from his piercing eyes. His thin blood-red lips turned upward, revealing a brief flash of incandescent white teeth. The other men began to chant in a low monotone, incanting some strange, numinous ritual in a language other than English.

“Kneel before me, woman.”

She obeyed, lowering herself to the floor.

“Do you worship me with all your heart and soul and mind?”

“I do, my master.” She leaned forward, abasing herself before the man in the black robe.

“Are you prepared to take your place in our brotherhood? To become one with the Inner Circle?” His booming voice reverberated through the tiny chapel.