Please enter your destination - an automated voice chimed as Adara touched her trembling hand to the techno-blue screen of her navigation system. Frantically she entered the address to St. Stephen's Academy. Shortest Route.

 The debilitating cramps in her abdomen had now dulled to a steady ache emanating from the base of her spine. Breathe through the pain. Adara gripped the steering wheel, already scorching from the morning sun and violently threw the car into reverse.

Programming route, the screen cheeped too happily, as Adara tore out of her parking space at Grandview Medical Center, groping for her cell phone with one hand and negotiating the labyrinth of the office complex parking lot with the other. She had taken a shortcut to Paige's school only once before. It ran through some pretty undesirable neighborhoods so Adara had since opted to spend the extra fifteen minutes of travel time in exchange for the relative safety and security of the open freeway.

But today she knew time was of the essence.

"Hello, St. Stephen's" sang the voice on the other end of the cellphone, as Adara made a sharp right.

"Hello, Miss Wagner? Dr. Davis, Paige's mother," her words rushed, breathless.

"Hello Dear How..."

"Mrs. Wagner, I'm sorry , it is very important that I get touch with Paige"

"Paige, oh one moment dear...hold, please" Adara strained to inhale but the air stopped short of her lungs, stagnating in the base of her throat. Come on, Come on. She heard a series of clicks and beeps as Mrs. Wagner fumbled with the phone system.

"Oh dear..." Silence. She was disconnected.

Damn it! Adara slammed the steering wheel with her fist sending an aching bolt of heat searing into the base of her neck. Breathe. She pressed redial.

The screen above the dashboard listed twenty two minutes as her estimated travel time. Driving well above the speed limit, Adara calculated she could get there in fifteen. She carefully studied the brightly colored arrows on the GPS, coordinating the neatly typed names with the weary muted street signs propped up on each seedy intersection.

"Thank you for calling St. Stephens,  if you know your party's ext..." the voicemail system had picked up then went dead. Signal low.

A left, then a sharp right, brought Adara deeper into unkown terrain.

Girls girls girls, All Nude, XXX. 

Lurid signs, noxious neon lights, and garish billboards announced "gentlemens clubs" and a dizzying assortment of adult "entertainment". Adara slammed the brakes with an inpatient screech as the light ahead turned red, nearly rear-ending the Honda civic, in front of her. The driver offered Adara a menacing glare in his rear view mirror, his car pulsating with a mind numbing rythym, music pouring from his open windows in a decibal no human ear should endure. It was mid morning and the oldest profession was in full swing. A petite blond girl not much older than Paige was leaning salaciuosly into the driver side of a parked car. She sported silver metallic heels and an armful of rhinestone bangles. A mesh net tank top covered her ample chest and a surpirisngly fleshy midrif spilled out over tight silver short shorts. She resembled an exotic glistening sea creature trapped in a net of tuna. But she was just another one untold or quickly forgotten Vegas story and statistic. Like Nona Flores, Adara thought.. The sea creature could be anyone's child out there. She pictured her daughter's soft round face and gunned the ignition.

Smack- a loud sharp knock on her window jolted her into renewed conscoiousness. Adara froze as a large white placard hovered above her windshield.

"Thou shall not commit adultery!"a voice boomed. A large hand printed poster loomed before her, crudely displaying the ten commandments in magic marker bubble letters. "Honor thy Father and Mother", the voice continued. The sign was lifted upward, revealing the source of the voice. Wading through the stifled traffic, was a middle age red haired man in khaki pants, large half moons of sweat soiling the underarms of his blue button down shirt as he raised the sign toward the sky.

"Repent now!" he screeched. Adara was motionless, her heartbeat audible, as the man traveled on to the sinner in the next car. His voice grew more distant "thou shalt not..." .

Franco called them bible thumpers, and they were not uncommon in Las vegas. Working the frontline of the seemier areas of town, they would make their appeal tirelessly for a week or so, then usually disappear.

"Let's count them" Franco chuckled during a recent drive which had detoured them through a more colorful part of the city.

"Sacrilege" Adara had responded sarcastically.

"Come on" he continued, "there's the first one, Sinners go home"

"Number two... Jesus Saves" Paige giggled from the backseat. "...and he's got a tamborine"

"You'll be struck by lightning" Adara offered a mock warning, then muttered reluctantly "Number three...The end is near..."

It had been forever since the three had laughed together like that.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar melody of Vivaldi's Four seasons, and realized her cell phone was ringing. It was Paige's school.

"Hello?" Adara answered cautiously. "This is Dr. Davis" she added with feigned confidence.

"Mom?" chirped the high pitched voice on the line, a rhapsody against  the cell phone static. "What's going on?"

Paige was Ok. Adara exhaled like a balloon suddenly untied, her body limp and at ease, her pain evaporating into the desert air.

"Listen Paige, where are you Honey?"

"At the office, Mrs. Wagner said you needed me"

"Paige stay there, do not move, do not go anywhere, with anyone OK?"

"Mom, what's wrong? You're scaring me"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm going to pick you up and get you that prescription, that's all OK?" A filmy crackle announced the signal was fading again.

"Ok. Cool... and Mom...I'm sorry..about before"

"See you in five" Adara answered not needing to say anything more.

 She inhaled as if for the first time. But her worries were far from over. The disturbing phone call from that morning had her unnerved. Of course it could be a prank. Mrs. Wagner was known to leave her post unattended. It wouldn't be to difficult for any preteen jokester to cause some trouble. But the voice had troubled her. It was the deep resonant voice of an adult, a man. Should she call the police? What would she say? An ominous stranger called and bellowed out one of the ten commandments? She was thinking more rationally now, now that she knew Paige was safe. No, the LVPD had more to worry about than a prank call. She would talk to the principal and find out who had access to the main switchboard that morning. No point troubling Mrs. Wagner. She would be useless and besides, she had a weak heart.

St. Stephen's school was set back from the main street, nestled in what used to be a well-to-do neighborhood, and was now considered a middleclass quiet suburb. Adara steadied herself as she passed the adjacent church and approached the old brick facade of the school entrance. She had attended St Stephen's as a girl and it seemed little had changed. The girls wore their plaid skirts slightly shorter, secretly sewing the hems up themselves, blaming the dryer for somehow shrinking them. Boys had spikier hair and donned sleek ipods instead of their clumsier ancestors the walkman. But the brick and stone of the ediface still demanded a certain homage to the world of academia, which in hindsight held a certain nostalgia. It was here Adara had struggled so with her "gift." For several years she had shared it with noone, sailing that already stormy sea of adolesence while plagued with that most dreaded of preteen curses, being "different." She consoled herself by reading voraciously about the life of the Saints, especially those who had had "visions". She found within their fold some kindred spirits, St. Joan, St. Theresa. But as her abilites grew she began to see not glorious holy apparitions as they had, but things much darker.

Adara sped through the school entryway, the familiar scent of books and learning triggering a myriad of memories. Paige was sitting on a nearby bench, texting one of her friends, no doubt, on her new cell phone, an act strictly forbidden during school hours.

"Hey Mom, " Paige greeted her, casually looking up.

Without a word, Adara wrapped her arms around her daughter, smothering the small blond head in the folds of her blouse, Paige's cell phone embedded in the back of her rib cage.

"Mooom, I can'ft brweaffthe..." Paige grumbled as Adara released her hold. "You're embarrassing me..." she muttered but beneath her offense, Adara glimpsed a warm hint of gratitude.

"Dr. Davis, so sorry about the phone, if you'll just sign this early pick up sheet" Mrs. Wagner blubbered.

"Adara, is that you? I heard it's Dr. Davis now" a reproachful voice cackled behind her.

"Father Preston" Adara forced a smile through her not so pleasant surprise. Adara's memories of St. Stephens as a hallowed place of nurturing and learning were marred by just one memory. That of Father Preston. He had served briefly as principal, when Father Ferguson had taken a leave of absence.

Time had done little to alter the man. His unusually tall stature, well over six foot, and lithe hunching frame made him appear almost bird like. His small darty pupils peeking from behind heavy glasses, like a vulture eyeng a fresh kill. If eyes were the window to the soul, Father Preston had little of either. Adara regressed to her adolescent self, timid and unsure in his presence.

Adara was fourteen when she decided to tell Sister Margaret about what had happened. She asked to meet in a quiet corner of the library well after the final bell had sent the throngs of students scattering into the spring afternoon. Sister Margaret taught English literature. She was soft spoken and kind, and by far the prettiest of the sisters. Adara and her friends created an elaborate fictitious life around their favorite teacher. Rumours spread of an ill fated love affair that sent Sister Margaret, previously Desiree, the girls decided, into the arms of the church. There was a debate about whether she had long Barbie blond hair and stylish clothes beneath her austere black vestments. All Adara knew is that she listened as if what you were saying was genuinely important.

"Don't be shy, Adara" she said soothingly as they sat cacooned among the orderly shelves of books. Adara stumbled over her words.

"You know in the news...those murders" she stuttered, referencing the three seemingly related homicides that had the city on virtual lockdown over the past week.

"Well I...I...I saw one of them" Adara clamped her eyes shut trying to erase the gruesome images of her dream. The shadowy figure caught on the security camera, the silhouette of a woman, juggling her car keys, the dimly lit parking garage. Then the voice in the darkness, hissing like a reptile. Adara couldn't hear the words. Next a metallic flash, a gloved hand catching the screams, rivulets of blood like melted amethysts changing ruby red against the concrete. Finally the face, the lips, the fingertips tinged icy blue. 

"You witnessed something Adara?" the sister touched her hand gently, despite her obvious horror. "Dear, tell me what happened"

'Well I didn't see it, like I wasn't there really. I ..I dreamed it. I dreamed it and then it...it happened"

"That will be all Sister," a somber voice from above commanded. "I'll take care of this." Adara felt a claw like grip on her shoulder. Father Preston. Sister Margaret rose to leave, her eyes, fearful yet empathetic, willing Adara to be strong.

"You know Adara dear, you must ignore these visions." Father Preston continued with a false tenderness. "They are the work of Satan at play.," he continued strenly. They will only bring you trouble. You must never mention them to anyone ever again, not even your parents." His voice grew deeper, graver. "Do you understand. You must ignore them. Push them away"

Adara nodded blindly, too terrified for speech. A week later Sister Margaret was reassigned to the one of the Carolina's, Adara wasn't sure if it was, North or South.

"This must be your daughter, then, Dr. Davis"  Father Preston's creaky voice had not changed. Adara nodded, once again speechless.

"I've been reassigned to my old stomping ground, Lucky St Stephen's" he attempted humour. "We'll just have to see if Paige here has the same talents and ...gifts as her mother..." He grinned.

"I'm sorry to be rude Father, Paige is unwell and I really must rush her home" She grabbed her only child and fled through the double glass doors.

Father Preston watched their exodus with decided interest. Like mother like, daughter? he pondered. Time will tell. He checked his watch. He had somewhere to be.

"Hold my calls Mrs. Wagner please. "Must step out on business"

He stepped into his modest four door sedan, not realizing his rear bumper had been adorned with a "Honk if you're horny" bumper sticker and headed west.

"Good afternoon Father. Another visit?" Officer Ramero greeted him with a pretty smile.

"Hello my child. Yes, God's work is never done." he gushed, ogling the attractive police woman behind the desk. " Even our most lost of sheep deserve spiritual solace." As he spoke he tapped on the black and gold bible wedged under his arm.

"Ill have him brought up, you know we're right here if you should need us." she responded, a look of genuine concern shadowing her delicate features.

 She dialed a number and a garbled voice muttered back.

"Yes, that's right. Prisoner S183479. Yes, that's right Miguel Sanchez."