Following 1. Chapter 1

Bureau asked Peyton Wills to get to the Joe Carroll case immediately when Joe first escaped and ended Sarah Fuller. She was flattered but the case was cold. She didn't want to have a part of this little cult investigation. Carroll was famous of his cult, his followers. What had Debra called it? Carrollism. Peyton's expertise was cults and killers in general. Peyton wasn't happy about the bureau's decision. She had been assigned to this only because she had visited Carroll in prison _once._ Only because she was interested in Joe's obsession Edgar Allan Poe. Peyton had been under investigation by the bureau so she did not dare to question its decisions.

Like a good little agent she was, she obeyed. Surely Ryan was not happy about her intervening but what was she supposed to do about it? Besides Peyton had shadowed Ryan for the past few weeks and the nights he had encountered drinking; a lot of drinking. Only then had Peyton slipped herself. At the age 26 she had graduated to be in the FBI. She got picked with the firsts. Top scores from the tests all though her quick eyes and anger management were sometimes a problem.

She had dark combat boots, perfect to run with, great and airy in her feet. Her black and stretchy skinny jeans were also perfect. Her upper body had more convincing federal agent look; white buttoned shirt and black jacket with tiny shoulder pats. She wore pilot sunglasses as she entered her new work building. Her Glock 23 was firmly in her holster and her badge in her chest pocket. That was clearly a mistake. Every sharp glance directed at her came from her tough out core and bitchy look. Peyton wasn't going to do anything about that; she was who she was.

Peyton had pleaded the bureau to let her wear those clothes. With the dumb reason of 'it's easier to work at the field with these' went through. Surely that didn't have anything to do with who her father was. Peyton didn't waste much thought on her father anymore. Her light brown ponytail was tight and wavy.

When she got out of the elevator and on to her floor she pulled her leather briefcase closer to her body. The briefcase contained a file of the case and a water bottle with a sandwich. And her tiny laptop.

"Peyton Wills?" Peyton turned around and faced a young male, probably the same age as her. Mike Weston, Peyton recognized.

"Mike Weston," Peyton raised her brows and looked the young man from head to toe. Mike seemed surprised but gestured Peyton to follow him. He had a very casual outfit. Peyton smiled; guess she wasn't the only one. He led Peyton deeper into the office. They walked past the labs into a meeting room. There were only Debra and another man for her. Maybe this was the small group that really investigated the case. Now she had come to intrude it. Bureau and her father probably enjoyed this.

"No introductions needed, I've done my homework," Peyton said before anyone had a chance to speak up.

"Oh?" Ryan said, it was more of a statement than a question really. Peyton's storm grey eyes went straight to him.

"Ryan Hardy, born in 1966, dad was a NYPD street cop; now deceased. Former federal agent and 2003 caught Joe Carroll on the act trying to kill Sarah Fuller. But unfortunately Carroll stabbed you in the heart and now you have a pacemaker. Wrote a book about him; The Poetry of a Killer," Peyton smiled at her own smartass behavior. Ryan rubbed his chin and smirked.

"You're a fan?" his question made Peyton laugh.

"No, ugh, god no," she shook her head. Then her eyes went to Mike. "Mike Weston, you on the other hand are a fan of Ryan. You studied political science at Wesleyan and your dissertation was about Carroll. A true expert I see. You're one of the youngest of your unit."

"Please Peyton, save your speech of me," Debra said in a commanding tone. Peyton narrowed her eyes but remembered her father's advice. _No one's going to trust you if you're a smartass. Don't be a smartass, Peyton._

"Specialized in cults and fringe religions, guess we have something in common," Peyton slashed a smile and then took her sunglasses finally off; placing them in her pocket. "So, the case so far… He tried to escape?"

The escape word made everyone in the room grunt. Peyton arched her brows and studied Ryan's body language. Peyton got slightly annoyed of the silence in the room. Finally Debra opened her mouth.

"Yes," Debra said with confidence. Peyton rolled her eyes. That was something that Debra should not be confident about. Peyton smiled and changed the weight to her other leg. Peyton wanted to laugh within. Shouldn't they worry of another escape try? Joe Carroll's followers were powerful and they could be everywhere.

"So you don't worry him try escape again?" Peyton chuckled silently and eyed her colleagues. Again with the silence, come on people! Peyton threw her briefcase onto the metal table and moved her hands on her hips. She looked intimidating. Really this was pissing her off, no one really told her anything. No one really spoke up.

"Okay am I going to do all the talking here or is someone going to tell me what's happening? Huh? How's it going to be?"

"We think you should visit Joe. The bureau has given great recommendations and Joey is missing."

"Joey? His son?" Peyton seemed amused. "I don't think he's going to kill him."

Ryan hit the table and got intimidatingly close to her. Peyton guessed she wasn't the only one with an anger management issues. Peyton wanted to attack Ryan but it wouldn't be fair to Ryan. Poor guy was about 20 years older than her. She glanced at him from head to toe.

"Careful with your pacemaker Ryan," Peyton was an ass. She knew it. But in the world that she came from, if you weren't an ass, or a bully, you would get bullied. And that was exactly what she had dealt with her entire childhood. Mike got to Ryan and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back. Peyton's comment had only made things worse.

"Just ask about Joey. Okay?" Ryan calmed down.

Peyton cocked her head and smiled. She nodded with a tiny smirk. "Okay I'll do that."

Peyton got everyone on their toes. An agent coming straight from the bureau and that agent being Harry Wills' daughter had them even wearier. Harry Wills was Peyton's dad. He was one of the top agents in the whole bureau. When Harry met Peyton's mother Maria Peyton was conceived. Maria was a crime scene investigator. If you wouldn't say that Peyton didn't have a career in the Federal Bureau of Investigation you would lie.

The way to the investigation room was hallow. The walls were radiating coldness. Everyone was calm. Mike had offered to escort Peyton into the room, although she really didn't need an escort she had said yes. Peyton's heart was beating fast with every step closing the distance between her and Joe Carroll. These moments made adrenaline run through her veins. Peyton was really an adrenaline junky. She just didn't want to admit it.

_Joe was already waiting anxiously to see what story her new visitor bared. The glass between them wasn't a barrier as it was a speed bump. Not every visitor could see through the see through plastic wall. Finally his visitor walked to sit on the chair. Joe cocked his head and stared at the girls stormy eyes. She owned a very intriguing look. Her light brown hair was beautifully fallen on her shoulders. It had been raining outside because of the wetness of her hair. _

_Joe noticed her notebook and her pencil. He frowned. _

"_Hello," Joe said with a smirk. _

"_Hey," the girl said smiling. "Uh, I don't know what to say. It's a pleasure finally meet you."_

"_What brings you here?"_

"_Peyton, my name is Peyton," Peyton said with a shaky breath. "I came here because of your book, the Gothic Sea."_

_Joe's smile couldn't get any wider than that. Another friend, maybe? _

"_I really admire your work."_

Joe was already in the room waiting anxiously. Who would they send now? He hadn't requested anyone so this would be a true surprise. Emma's little stunt with Joey had stirred things up but surely they wouldn't let Ryan in after he broke Joe's fingers. So the door opened and a familiar female face stepped in. Where had he seen her? Oh yes now he remembered. The innocent little fan girl, if you could call her that. Now she seemed confident woman with a good education. Her name was Peyton, now he remembered.

Peyton looked at Joe. He had broken fingers but still a grin on his face. The jail suit didn't really suit him. The interrogating room had two cameras, one pointed at Joe and the other at anyone who's interrogating. Mike stepped aside and didn't enter the room so Peyton sat herself casually into the chair. She didn't make any eye contact. Peyton could already imagine Ryan and Debra wonder what she was doing.

"Good and bad no longer existed. It was all degrees of evil now. Gwendolyn held his dying body as the storm raged on. Death had finally arrived, and it was _glorious_ to the touch," Peyton moved her gaze into Joe's dark brown eyes. He tilted his head, studying Peyton. What in earth did she want from him?

"I remember you," he said with a wide smile. "Peyton."

"Oh I'm surprised you remembered me. You've been so busy the past years with all your _friends _visiting you," Peyton leaned back on the uncomfortable chair. Joe had shackles that were attached to his feet as well. She had nothing to be afraid of, still her heart beat like it was about to die. This was going to take much more of her energy than she thought. Joe raised his brows and looked impressed. Peyton wasn't as dumb as she looked like.

"Of course I remember you. You visited me many times," Joe looked at the camera with a smile.

Peyton looked at him with a soft smile before she started to talk again. She had visited him actually a quite few times, but she wasn't his fan. Okay she was. He was a serial killer and a psychopath, but that didn't mean that he didn't own an interesting ideology. Although the book itself was a commercial and a critical failure.

"So I'm supposed to be here to talk about Joey."

"What a surprise. You have me wondering," Joe's eyes still didn't leave the camera.

Payton cleared her voice and looked at him. "Mister Carroll if you could direct your focus on me."

"Oh pardon me. Yes what were you saying?"

His apologizing made Peyton roll her eyes. He had always been like that, playing mind games. Peyton sighed and rubbed her forehead. He wasn't going to tell anything. But Peyton knew that Joey wouldn't be hurt.

"I was asking about your son."

"I talked to Claire about this already," Joe sighed but not a muscle on his face twitched. Peyton breathed in deeply and glanced at the camera filming her, attached on the ceiling. Her look revealed more than words to Ryan, Debra and Mike all staring at the screen.

Ryan scratched the back of his head in anxiety. Joe wasn't going to say anything. He had people everywhere and what if Peyton was one of them? Maybe it was far-fetched but Philip Wills' daughter would be the least suspected person to be a member of the cult. That made her the perfect target to Joe. Peyton had visited Carroll in prison a couple of times and Joe's suggested there were more visits than Peyton led on.

"Ryan look at this," Debra pointed at the screen that showed Peyton leaning closer to Joe. Before Peyton did anything she looked at the camera with a meaningful gaze.

"Okay then, Joe. Why don't you tell me about your plan?" Peyton's expression turned into more kind and playful. Joe tilted his head slightly and smirked.

"What plan?"

"Your escape plan."

The talk with Joe gave Peyton nothing. He didn't admit anything, he didn't tell anything. The only thing he agreed to talk about was Peyton herself. And she didn't have time for that. The bureau was still stepping on her heels and she didn't like the distance they kept to her. She swore Joe and his cult into the lowest parts of hell as she walked back to her hotel.

She could not believe how shitty her first day was. She needed a drink, quickly. Before she had gotten to her hotel she had visited a liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka; and donuts. She didn't usually eat such trash but this was an unusual day anyway. With a sigh Peyton got to her room and glared around the corridor. She knew that Mike Weston and Ryan Hardy were staying in one of the rooms in this corridor but she didn't know where.

She opened the room door with her card key and got quickly inside, hiding her paper bag. When she closed the door behind herself and got the lights she could finally sigh deeply. Ah the peace of an own room; that was luxury.

"Peyton," a firm and a low tone voice scared her. A man in a dark suite was sitting on her bed. His face wrinkly of age and eyes dark with thought. Peyton swallowed deeply and walked over to her little dresser and placed the brown paper bag on it. There was heard a little mingling between the glass and the table. The man raised his gaze from the floor and directed it straight into Peyton's eyes. She hoped he wouldn't be mad. She hoped that nothing bad had happened. And she hoped that the bureau wouldn't bury her in more deep shit than she already was in.

"Dad," her dry voice said with a slight twitch of eye. Her father smiled at her and got up from the bed. He walked slowly over the now looking like a little girl and coughed. He was old and forcing her little girl to do something she wouldn't want to do would be hard. He had no choice but to do it. In all fairness he should be the one to tell her that.

But now, when Philip saw his little girl, look lowered from respect and awe he felt bad. The next sentence would shock Peyton's world so radically that she might not ever get back to her life. Never. She might have to go to witness protection service, but what the bureau said the agents did. Especially secret agents.

"What I'm about to tell you, you need to keep completely to yourself. You won't tell anything to Debra Parker, Ryan Hardy or Mike Weston. Not anyone do you hear me? Only I and only the most trustworthy people in the bureau know this."

Peyton was getting anxious. This cannot be the plan the FBI had disqualified. She would not do any of it. She would leave; run away. And who knows, maybe become a part of Joe's cult? She would be safer there than out here. The bureau would find their problems and eliminate them. Sooner or later that's going to happen to Peyton as well.

"The raven will fly," Philip whispered while keeping a full eye contact. "You can do it Peyton."

Mike Weston saw a guy in a suite leave Peyton Wills' room. He frowned at the man. Why would a guy wearing a suite come out of Peyton's room? Well Mike Weston wasn't a fool, he was from the FBI obviously. At least he hoped so. So Mike Weston decided to go and check out that Peyton was okay, you wouldn't want any Joe Carroll fans going and killing probably their best agent. The room door was slightly open. He knocked on it before walking in.

Peyton was crying on the edge of the bed with a bottle of vodka.

When someone walked in Peyton didn't move. She just stared at the floor with the bottle of vodka. Just a couple of minutes ago she had cried her eyeballs red and her makeup ruined. She had ruined her life. If she wouldn't be an FBI agent this wouldn't happen. She glanced at the glock 23 on her night table, feeling the need to grab it and shoot her brains out.

"Are you okay?" the voice startled her, making her break into more tears. Mike Weston stood by the door. Peyton sobbed and raised her eyes with an arch of brow. He looked just so perfect.

"Well why are you just standing there? Come here and comfort me," Peyton said and tried to choke back her tears. She brought the vodka bottle on her lips and poured the stinging liquor down her throat. It tasted like shit but she needed something to comfort her and if Mike wasn't going to do it. Mike closed the door and walked slowly over the bed. He sat down and grabbed the bottle out of Peyton's hands. She almost started crying like a baby. The warm light of the hotel room and Peyton breathed deeply and turned her whole body towards Mike. He didn't like where this was going.

"Well mister Weston," Peyton said quite drunk. Peyton started to get closer and put her hand on his shoulder with a tilt of her head. "If you won't let that comfort me why won't you?"

"Because tomorrow is work and probably a new body," he said and tried to deny all Peyton's touches and flirts. Peyton pouted playfully but made Mike fall on his back on the bed and Peyton jumped on top of him. She cleared her voice and held him down on the bed.

"Mike I'm really not that drunk and I'm just looking for some comfort. No emotions just sex, okay?" Peyton asked and Mike seemed surprised. After a while of silence Peyton crushed her lips into Mike's. It was better than she had expected and Mike got into it nicely. They started to kiss more passionately and started removing clothes. A bulge in Mike's pants made Peyton smile into their kisses.

"I guess that means yes," she moaned when he kissed her neck.

This would be Peyton's last memory of this case. The feeling of pleasure and the smell of sex and sweat. This would be a perfect ending really.


	2. Chapter 2

_Joe Carroll was charming when he taught the class. He had passion; he was devoted to his teaching. Nothing was more important to him in that part of his life. Edgar Allan Poe was his typical subject but he couldn't always talk about Poe. Though he constantly tried to talk only about him he always did not succeed. He knows how to make a group of people passionate about something. He knows how to motivate them. He is charismatic, handsome and knows how to say all the right words._

_"Poe equates death with what?" Joe's voice filled the classroom. All of the females changed position while snickering on their seats every time when Joe glanced at them. Only if they knew what he was truly about. What kind of darkness was truly in him. Maybe they even would, someday. _

_Peyton listened to the lecture with half of her concentration. Her friend had recommended this class so she just wanted to give it a try. Though some of what he spoke was brilliant Peyton had had a bad night's sleep so she just wasn't able to concentrate. _

_"Poe believed that art was about beauty and that nothing was more beautiful than a beautiful woman's death," Sarah Fuller, from a window seat said. Joe's expression changed immediately. _

_"And to believe beauty is…"_

_"To elevate ones soul," Sarah continued with a proud smile on her face. Peyton leaned on her table and studied the eye contact between the two. No, he wasn't sleeping with her. What would the tension be about? Why was there one in the first place? Peyton narrowed her eyes to Joe and for a second and a half his eyes and hers met. The exchanged look made Peyton have shivers climbing up her back. She started to collect her courage. _

_"He believed that art had to be felt and though some of his characters were insane I don't think he himself was," Peyton said and felt everyone's eyes fall on her, including Joe's again. Peyton chuckled awkwardly and stared her blank paper. _

_"I'm sorry, psychology major," she smiled and raised her eyes back into Joe's. The professor smiled and nodded while he walked back a bit. _

_"Interesting theory," Joe said with a smirk he only let Peyton notice. _

_The class ended and she got up from the back seat and started walking towards the door. All the students were trying to get out and as she heard some of the females giggle and speak of Joe to each other. How he was so charming and so handsome and how he glanced them in that way. Peyton shook her ponytail head slightly and pushed her glasses closer to her eyes. It was ridiculous how the girls drooled over him like he was available. He was married and that was a big no. But she wasn't able to deny the fact that he was extremely handsome and charismatic. _

_"Great thinking psychology major!" the Professor said when Peyton walked past his table. _

"Peyton?" the voice made her wake up. She was in the conference room. A huge screen that held Carroll's face on it was in front of her. Peyton tried to wake up from her trance but something in the quick memory flashback she had, made her uncomfortable.

Peyton rubbed her forehead and tried to think. If she was one of Joe's followers where would she be, who would she murder next? What would be her next move? The escape yes, but no one in here seemed to really believe her. _It's safe nothing will happen. _Yeah right, then how did he escape the first time? Mike was sitting on her right side, going through some files and Ryan was tapping his foot under the table anxiously.

"I'm trying to think," Peyton answered to Debra who now got to sit down. Peyton had a file case in front of her. Emma Hill, one of Joe's best known 'followers'. His right hand almost. She had Joey; she had killed her own mother. Just a couple of days back they found her mummified body. Emma Hill; a loner, bad childhood, no friends, there was some sense in the fact she had gotten so easily inside Joe's cult. No one wants to be alone; no one wants to feel alone. You need someone who understands you.

"They can be anyone, anywhere," Debra pointed out before getting back to her own files. Then Peyton raised her eyes from the file case. Anyone, anywhere; they don't have a type for the cult members. There can't be a type.

"Not everyone who visited Joe in jail are his cult members," Peyton said dryly, reminding her team members that she was not one of them. She worked strictly to the bureau and did what she was told. Nobody answered to her, but she just needed to say that out loud. Peyton started tapping her fingers on the table. After a while she got stopped by Mike. His hand went over hers, covering it and stopping her hand.

Why did he do that? Peyton quickly looked Mike in the eyes and received a warm glance. She quickly took her hand out of his. What was he doing? Gladly no one noticed the quick and warm moment between Peyton and Mike. If Mike wanted to invest more into their relationship Peyton was screwed. She wasn't going to be with them for long.

"But if we truly speak of human nature only, there are very dark parts in all of us. We are capable of terrifying things, all of us. Joe has the charismatics and charm to make even family mothers killers. We are all killers when given the chance," Peyton broke their moment. She glared at Debra and Ryan.


	3. Chapter 3

Just when Peyton thought her day was over she had heard that Joe's plead for a transfer had gotten through. He was going to leave in Petersburg that day. She wasn't needed there and she was glad. Peyton had other things to do. Her black bmw was pulled over an alley. There she would wait. She had had the time to pick up some coffee and take-out food. Nothing was more awesome than a great stake out. Well, this wasn't a stake out really. She saw the car pull on the side about thirty feet from her. A dark woman stepped out of the car and walked to the back. Peyton's concentration following the car got stopped by her phone. The ringing startled her and it got time to ring a while before she answered it.

"Yes," she said into the phone.

"I hope you are where you are supposed to be."

"The raven will fly," Peyton said sourly. There was a sweet bitterness in her voice that was able to be detected. She bit her lip to prevent herself for crying, for pleading forgiveness.

"And your phone can't be traced?"

"No."

"Good."

"So after this I just disappear? What do I do?" Peyton spoke into the phone with a slight insecurity. It wasn't like her, to be insecure. Her eyes stayed on the vehicle. She couldn't intervene she couldn't do anything. It wasn't a part of her plan.

"Don't let him kill anyone," the dark voice said. Peyton cocked her head and got out of the car, still speaking to her father.

"Too late," she whispered and closed the phone. She walked quickly to the other car. He was sitting there with a dead woman on the wheel. Peyton didn't flinch at the sight of the dead body. Joe tilted his head and smirked. Peyton could find in her heart the room to smile to him. She walked to his side and opened the door. She backed a few steps to let Joe step out of the vehicle with Olivia still dead on the driver's seat.

"Aw, you dressed up that nicely, to me? I gotta' say Joe, orange doesn't suite you," Peyton raised a smirk on her beautiful face. Joe truly seemed stunned as he got out of the car and stood there in front of Peyton. He tilted his head slightly and took a few steps closer to her. She didn't mean to flinch, but she did. It made him frown broodingly. Then he placed his hand on her chin and raised her eyes. With that he locked Peyton's grey eyes with his brown ones. It was just a split second when Peyton was able to forget about the fact that he was a murderer and smiled.

"I was about to wonder where your faith lies," his words were sharp and almost as venomous as a poison snake. Peyton then just stared at his eyes in awe, did she have his trust, or needed she do something very quick and irrational. So Peyton did what she knew best; she slid her hands to his shoulders and tucked herself against him. She hugged him and closed her eyes. "Joe it's been so long since I last even saw you this close."

The hug was quickly over and Peyton gave a meaningful glance to him. She arched her brow and tilted her head towards the car. "Get in the car."

Joe wasn't pleased to hear such commanding words coming from that pretty little mouth. He gritted his teeth and noticed Peyton's wondering expression on what was he going to do. Joe flashed his fake smile and brought his hand on Peyton's throat. After strangling Olivia he didn't have the power to kill Peyton but he could intimidate her. She brought her own hands on her throat, trying to move his grip. Peyton's eyes were full off shock and she felt like they were going to pop out.

"Let's make this clear, Peyton. How should I put this? I don't take orders anymore. I had plenty of time doing that in prison," Joe said, still looking as sane as everyone else. He released his grip and it made Peyton search for air. How could he just snap like that? For God's sake.

Peyton needed to be careful. Joe was dangerous and she didn't want to die, but she trusted him not to kill her. They got into a car, and he got the ride into the stupid building, where he escaped with the helicopter. Peyton had gotten so many calls from Ryan and Mike she lost count. She was driving on the high way, her phone started ringing. Peyton grabbed it and anxiously looked at the caller. Unknown ID, that could be only one person.

"Joe," she whispered into the phone. A dark chuckle received her expecting voice. She frowned and thought of who else could call to her.

"Roderick and you are the pretty Peyton. You better be close, Joe is here soon," his voice was mocking. Peyton never liked Roderick; she had met him once and she hated him. A smug cop who you wouldn't think was a follower. Peyton rolled her eyes and sighed, she wasn't really in the mood to explain herself to him.

"Listen, Roderick, if you're not Joe I am not interested in talking to you. Besides, if he _needs _to know why I am late I needed to arrange some things in my hotel room. To not look like I just bailed out."

It was a lie.

_It was a lie. _

_What she had told her father, was a lie. No she wasn't in a pajama party with her friends. She was somewhere much more interesting. Really a nineteen year old Peyton shouldn't have to tell her father what was going on with her life, but the recent kills at the campus were a deal breaker to him. Peyton glared around the coffee shop and didn't see anyone, except the waitress. Then for her luck the door ran, and the person she'd been waiting was walking towards her. His smirk reached her eyes and it made her smile. He walked to her and sat down. _

_"__Hello," Joe said with a smile as he sat down. Peyton licked her lips as she moved her coffee cup. "The psychology major, I am excited to find out why you needed to meet me so badly."_

_"__And I'm excited to find out why you accepted my invitation."_

_"__Ah, well, I am always interested when a smart student wants to meet me."_

_Peyton crossed her legs between the table and corrected her posture. "I'm Amy and I really admire your work."_

Finally, after a long ride, Peyton was there, at the mansion, in the dawn of the day. She was able to drive for half of the way and after that she was forced inside a trunk. Joe's followers just put her there and said, "you are not supposed to see anything". It wasn't nice to know that Joe didn't trust her.

Her stuff was probably there, or they'd gotten her new things. This cult, this system of followers was interesting. Joe was the typical psychopath and the followers were fawning all over him. It was ridiculous.

She walked inside the huge mansion with a familiar face looking at her. Joe Carroll stood there, waiting with a expressionless face. Peyton looked down where she stepped. She wouldn't want to embarrass herself. The mansion was filled with warm colors.

"Wow," Peyton said as she got inside. "I didn't expect that you'd be here to escort me."

"How was the car ride?"

"It was not nice but it wasn't be able to be different." The car ride was terrible, actually. She almost had a panic attack but she didn't dare to make any noises. She couldn't make them feel suspicious. But Joe's expression made her feel anxious. He didn't have any expression, just plain darkness. Peyton slowly walked to the spot he was standing and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Joe," she genuinely smiled and it raised Joe's eyes to watch hers. They stared at each other for a chilling beat. "Thank you."

"I know who you are now," he whispered and switched gazes from her eyes to the floor. "It took me a while to figure out, since you had dark hair and glasses back then, but now I see it."

Peyton lowered her eyes and slid her hand down from his shoulder. She cocked her head and waited for him to tell her. "See what, Joe?"

"You are Amy. But why use a cover name back then?" His question really came out of the bushes, because Peyton really didn't remember using the name Amy. She rolled eyes to herself inside. What would she do? What would she answer? And without a flinch or a twitch she said: "I just wanted it to be a onetime thing, and then we met again. I didn't plan for it to turn out that way."

"But now things are just so more interesting," his whisper caused a shiver go down on Peyton's back. He started smirking and glanced at Peyton from head to toe. She was able to make her face look seductive and make a smile.

"So it seems."


	4. Chapter 4

He had her on her toes. It was impossible for Peyton to try to contact anyone. Joe and his friends had taken her phone, and she was struggling. Every morning that she woke up she had an issue with her conscious. What was she really doing in there? And the plus side if she was truly on the bureau's side, and was able to contact them she had no idea how to tell them where she was. Only way to make it was to beg for her father's help. _Make it look like you were kidnapped. _Peyton had made it look like she was kidnapped. And in a weird way she was kidnapped and swirled into the tornado of the cult.

"Peyton would you care to join me for a walk?" Joe had asked her when she was eating breakfast that morning. His brown eyes had met hers and stared at her intently until she gave an answer. What else could've she given than yes? If Peyton had said no she was sure he was going to do something about that. Peyton had seen Joey, Joe's son, and Claire, his wife. Peyton had seen Claire's pictures before but she had never seen her in person. And the fact that the person that all those years ago showed Peyton Claire's pictures, was Joe, made her shiver.

She had been really close with him. So close it was chilling. So close that every time Peyton dared to think of their _relationship _she wanted to puke.

So there she was; outside the huge manor, waiting. Waiting for him. Peyton looked around the huge yard around the manor. There wasn't really any obvious escape paths that now caught her eye. Nothing. It was like her father had made her go there just to be rid of her.

Or maybe this wasn't a plan at all. Maybe her father was one of them. Maybe Peyton was really truly, deep inside, one of Joe's followers. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. Peyton held back tears as hard as she was able, but the cringe on her face showed that the tears were too close.

So now she was outside of the big mansion. The plan was to find out where the hell this mansion was, but they didn't even let her drive there on her own. God this plan was just so… so… STUPID. The stress level was just increasing. And all she was able to think about was that night with Mike. Agent Mike Weston. There was a connection with him she hadn't felt in a very long time. A connection she was afraid she's never feel again.

"So which one are you? A psychopath or a sociopath?" Peyton asked when they were walking around the mansion yard. "I know they are synonyms but there is a slight difference."

"What would you label yourself?" Joe had asked immediately and caught Peyton off guard. So which one was she? She didn't want to admit she was either, but she must be_ something_. No sane person would ever agree to do this.

"I should say I am a sociopath," she whispered and stopped. Joe looked at her anticipating an answer. Somewhere inside Peyton anticipated her answer herself. "But I can't label myself."

The sun shined in her eyes and she had to raise her hand to cover her eyes. It was strange discussing these things with Joe Carroll. Especially when he had once been her teacher. If only she'd just stayed in the stupid psychology class.

"Amy or Peyton. Whichever you are, I trust you," Joe said and suddenly grabbed her hand gently. "I think you are one of my followers, but I am afraid you must prove this to me."

Peyton got closer to Joe's mesmerizing eyes and swallowed tensing her every muscle. "How?" she asked innocently like a ten year old girl. She was confused how much she actually wanted to prove to Joe she was his follower. Peyton moved her whole body closer to Joe. "How can I prove that I am-, truly loyal to you?" her speaking tackled and a fear ran through her body. What if he noticed?

_"__So how many have you killed Peyton?" Joe asked and noticed her blush. She hadn't killed anyone yet, she was just a brave admirer. Peyton shook her head with a nervous laughter. _

_"__No one. I want it to be beautiful. I want it to be like art, and art shouldn't be rushed," her answer came from her heart. It was amazing how this murderer; this psychopath could make her feel things like excitement and admiration. "Like Poe."_

_Joe squinted his eyes at this girl. This girl looked and seemed so familiar. He didn't know if he could find anyone more perfect. This girl was the image of everything he desired, admired and wanted. This girl would be perfect._

"You have to kill someone." Joe's hand caressed her hair and she just smiled.

"I will do anything for you," her whisper was so genuine. It made her think should've she been a drama major instead of a psychology major. Or was she even acting at all.


End file.

Following, Crime, Mystery