The Devil's Heart (16 page)

"Whores and bastards!" Balon's voice sent waves of fear through the panicked crowd. "Leave. Get out! Your time for her will come soon enough . . . but not now. Get out!"

They needed no further urgings. They ran in all directions, Tony leading the pack. The Devil's spokeswoman, Jean, had not told them anything like this would happen. They ran to her.

And The Tempter watched all that was happening, watched it glumly. He simply could not believe his enemy had bestowed so much power in Balon. That was not at all like Him. Surely He did not believe that simpering whore, Jane Ann, was worth all this? Unless … the Dark One pondered, unless … He
knew
she would meet the challenge at the end. No! the Ruler of the Netherworld rejected that. No! Not even He would go so far. Or would He?

He shifted his never-closing eyes to the house of the Jew and Jewess. If that damnable lump of clay was with life … with breath from that … meddler in the sky … that would be an insult just too great for him to tolerate.

Satan saw half of what was once a human member of his Coven go flying through the air, the torso leaking blood and intestines and organs. The golem stood like a massive fortress in the center of the yard: a sentry against the forces of evil. The golem held one of Satan's people in one huge hand. Then, with no more effort than was required to open an envelope, the golem ripped off both arms and sent them flying across the street, where they smashed through a picture window.

The armless body screamed and flopped on the sidewalk, thick crimson gushing from empty arm sockets. He lay squalling in helpless agony.

Satan's forces scattered in fear and blind panic. The golem lumbered slowly up the walkway and sat down on the porch. A giant gray man, without features, without emotion. Here only to serve God's people.

"You son of a cosmic whore!" Satan screamed his message to the firmament. "We made a deal after Prague."

"I make no deals with you, Lord of All That Is Ugly." The silent voice filled the sky, heard only by the demon of all demons.

"Why here?" Satan howled his outrage. "Why for these five people? Why not in Israel?"

"The people of Israel can take care of themselves—as the world is rapidly discovering. And how do you know I haven't helped there?"

But Satan was in no mood for questions and answers. "All bets are off, you son of a bitch! We agreed twenty years ago, over this very spot, that I would leave Balon's bastards to their own wiles; in return, you would leave me this miserable village. You lied!"

"I do not recall any such agreement."

And while Satan howled and screamed his outrage at this supposed trickery on the part of God, the Almighty brooded among the thousands of worlds under His command.

Had He placed too much on the young man from Balon's seed? Was the young man mature enough to victoriously fight the odds against him? He had given the young man powers far beyond any He had given any other in many years … or rather, He smiled … Balon had.

The Heavens winked at the smile.

All right, He had done all He could do. Far more than He ordinarily did. It was time to withdraw. To think. Because there was the matter of His mighty ageless warrior, who was becoming restless, anticipating a fight between good and evil on earth, and wanting very much to be a part in any upcoming confrontation.

There was that to think about.

"The black mass that starts the ordeal will begin tonight," Sam said, startling Nydia. "Both here and in Whitfield."

She stirred in his arms. "How do you know that?"

"I just know," Sam replied in a whisper.

They lay on the bed in Sam's room, listening to the howl and rage of the storm as it slammed the mansion. They were fully clothed, and had not made love that day. The impact of the knowledge that they were half brother and sister had finally hit home, sobering them, and, to some extent, frightening them.

"Your father told you?" she asked.

Sam's reply was a long time coming. When he did speak, his voice was hushed. "One of them."

Jimmy slipped through the huge house, knowing he was deluding no one of his kind, and knowing that, in all probability, he would be stopped before he could culminate his mission. But he had to try, for the urges rearing up in him had grown too powerful to suppress and too wild to placate with his hand and thoughts. He knew he was not as intelligent as he had once been, back when he was a policeman in Whitfield, so many years ago.

And as quickly as the thought came to him, it was removed from his mind, leaving the near zombie standing dumbly in the dim hallway, wondering what he had been thinking.

Jimmy heard a door open and ducked behind drapes in the hall. Peeking through the crack in the heavy drapes, he watched Balon's bastard son walk down the hall, past him, and into the stairwell leading downward. He listened to the footfall until they faded.

Quickly, Jimmy shuffled to Nydia's door. He stood listening for a moment, hearing the young beauty humming a soft tune. His erection was throbbing, his groin aching, his tongue swollen as he placed his hand on the doorknob and gently turned the brass.

Nydia was naked, all her beauty exposed to Jimmy's hot eyes: the full, mature breasts, rose-tipped; the heavy bush between her legs. He could not see her face for it was turned from him.

Jimmy pushed the door open a bit farther, ready to step inside and take her, by force if necessary, when a hand fell on his shoulder, hauling him bodily out of the door, the door closing soundlessly behind him, the loveliness cut off from view.

Jimmy turned to look into the fathomless eyes of Falcon. "Not her," the tall man whispered. "Never her, Jimmy. Not unless you wish to die ten thousand agonizing deaths a year for all eternity."

Jimmy dared to argue, so great was his need. "She is one of His now—what difference does it make?"

"Fool!" Falcon hissed at him, leading the man from the door, down the hall. "Your Master has other plans for her, and they do not include you. Now leave this wing immediately, and do not return—ever—without orders from Roma or me. Go!"

He watched as Jimmy shuffled off, his shoulders slumped in rejection. The man was becoming more and more a buffoon, his usefulness almost past. Falcon could not understand why Roma kept him alive. And then Falcon chuckled without mirth. Of course: he was the last reminder of her love for Balon. How typically female.

His eyes narrowed as the thought of the girl behind the closed door entered his mind. Falcon could understand Jimmy's desire, for Nydia was of astonishing beauty and very much worthy of any man's attention. Even Falcon had entertained thoughts of entering her; fantasizing of her moaning beneath him as he gave her more cock than mere mortals could ever possess.

And now he had that permission to do just that. But only when Roma gave the word. His smile became a thing of ugliness as he thought of the girl's satin-smooth flesh, all hot beneath him.

He abruptly turned away, slipping quietly down the hall then up the stairs to his rooms. There he began to dress for the mass that evening. Once the mass was under way, and the true Master was called, no one would be allowed to leave this area, and only those who practiced the Black Arts could enter. Falcon House and the area surrounding it would be as unattainable as a lost planet in a black hole of space.

And then, Falcon smiled, hefting his penis, the party could really begin.

"We have no virgin for the ceremony," Roma said as she prepared to dress for the mass.

"Lana," Falcon corrected. "She has never been penetrated."

"I … am hesitant to use her," Roma said, slipping out of her gown, standing naked in the room. "There is … something about her that disturbs me."

"Yes," Falcon agreed. "I picked up on the same troublesome vibes. Pity. She is very pretty." Falcon thought no more of it as he became aware of a heating in his groin and a slight stirring of the massive organ that hung between his legs. Like Roma, he, too, was naked, very carefully choosing his robes for the ceremony.

"We can't use Judy," Roma mused, as much to herself as to Falcon. "She is now one of us. And I will need more blood from her."

"The pretty little Linda, then?"

"I … think not," Roma replied, glancing at the clock on the dresser. Their eyes met in reflection from the mirror. The mouths smiled. "She thinks she is fooling us, you know?"

"Yes," Falcon agreed with a smile. "But we know what she is."

"We'll let her play her little game."

Falcon looked at the witch, thinking how beautiful she still was … and how desirable. He stroked his penis, feeling it fill with hot blood under his touch.

Roma laughed at him. "Contain yourself, Falcon. Sometimes I believe your brains are located in your cock."

"I believe Wilder once said your brains were situated between your legs, Roma—did he not?"

She sat down naked at her dresser and began to brush her raven hair. Falcon walked up behind her to cup her full breasts, gently pinching the nipples, feeling them grow beneath his touch. She turned, kissing his penis.

"Wilder made a mistake," she said.

"Yes. Yes, I believe he did."

"We will defile one of the boys." Roma made her decision. "They have all had dinner and should be drugged by now."

Falcon frowned his distaste. "How droll, Roma. You know how I dislike pederastic sacrifices."

"Black rather enjoys them," she reminded him. "As you noted earlier."

"Yes, and I say again: Black is weak, and even for our standards, not quite normal."

Her face expressed her concern. "So the Master reminded me. Failure, failure," she shook her head. "I will not fail this time."

Falcon bent his head to kiss her, recoiling only slightly as he observed that her teeth were suddenly fanged. Their tongues touched gingerly, Falcon saying, "So that is how it will be?"

"Yes." Her smile was grotesque. "Howard will know the pain of our world at the point of my son's climax."

"Sometimes, Roma," Falcon said, pulling away from her, "your humor is hideous."

She shrugged. "I have never professed any desire toward becoming a comedienne, darling." She snapped at him playfully, laughing as he jerked away from her flashing fangs.

Nydia emerged from the bathroom looking pale. "That's the very first time in my life I ever forced myself to vomit," she said. "How do you feel, Sam?"

"A little weak." He opened a napkin and took out several rolls, handing one to her. "Eat this, it'll give you strength. You'll need it. I don't think they could drug the bread."

They sat on the edge of the bed, sharing their meager dinner, their stomachs accepting the bread after the self-induced vomiting.

Sam glanced at his watch. "What did you tell your mother?"

"That we were tired and were going to rest for a while."

"Her reaction?"

"She smiled and said that was probably a good idea. Sam? You seem to know a lot about what is going to happen—when will the mass take place?"

"Tonight. Full dark. That's what popped into my head. And we're going to be there, watching."

Her voice was filled with fear as she asked, "Do we have to?"

"Yes. I want to know just who is involved. Who I have to destroy."

She trembled beside him. "Why did I suddenly get this feeling we have passed the point of no return?"

And just as Sam took her hand into his, some small thing touched him, touched him inwardly, striking with a hard but invisible force. "Because we have."

They had gathered.

Among the circle of dark stones, the worshipers of the Dark One had silently grouped. The servants, including Jimmy Perkins; the ten young men and women who wished to serve a new Master; Roma and Falcon and Black. Howard stood naked inside the inner circle, his eyes glazed from the drugs in his system. The torchlight reflected dully from the scarcely comprehending eyes of the young man. Outside the circle of people, the Beasts had gathered quietly, more than a dozen of them. They stood patiently, slobber leaking from massive jaws, their eyes glowing red with evil anticipation. For they knew should someone die at a high mass, they would feast well on that night.

Roma went among the new members, cutting off a small piece of hair from each head, then she walked to a stone where The Book rested. Their names were carefully recorded in that evil book, the hair placed beside the name.

Just as we have done for hundreds of years, Roma silently mused. As I personally have done for more than four hundred of those years, and those before me for thousands, all the way back to the caves … and beyond, before the first flood.

Roma cut her eyes to Howard's nakedness as a feeling of something very much amiss struck her. Something was all wrong. Falcon sensed it as well, walking swiftly to her side.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low.

"The Master is here. And he is angry."

"What about?"

"I don't know."

The voice of the Ruler of the Netherworld boomed in their heads, thundering to them in a roar only they could hear. "Is this the best you can do? One shivering male?"

Roma thrust her thoughts to the Ruler of Hell: "We did not think you would object."

"You did not think!" Satan roared, causing them both to cringe. "That much is correct. Look at your idiot son, Roma. Look at him stroking his organ, practically drooling at the mouth like a Beast as he thinks about man love. Disgusting! And the son that should have been mine is crouched not a thousand meters from the circle, watching with your daughter. The daughter that should be taking part in this ceremony … worshiping me! You have failed me, Roma. Don't fail again. Wilder warned me you had a streak of decency in you; a very narrow streak, to be sure, but nevertheless … there.

"What in the name of all that is unholy have I
ever
done to deserve you two? This should be easy. The world is spinning about in utter chaos; wars breaking out everywhere; morals finally declining at a satisfying rate of deterioration; drugs and free sex and … oh, for pity's sake! Do I have to lecture the both of you? If so, I have failed miserably.