The Diabolical Conspiracy (2 page)

Mike maintained a carefully composed expression at this revelation. But he thought,
Oh, awesome. Not just weirdoes, but satanic weirdoes.

He glanced at Marnie again.
Now
she was looking at him. She was smiling. She was pretty to begin with, but, as always, he was struck by how a smile thoroughly transformed her face, making her not merely pretty but gorgeous. She looked incandescent when she smiled. There was a brighter light in her eyes and a brighter hue to her cheeks. Seeing her like this always made his heart race faster. But the bitch of it was she knew full well the effect it had on him. She was exploiting a weakness. To what purpose he did not know, but just the knowledge of what she was doing added to his steadily growing unease. And though he knew he was being manipulated--and resented her for it--he knew he couldn’t leave just yet. Not while the girl he maybe loved was looking at him that way.

“
Look at me, Mike.”

The leader again. Speaking again in that stern tone that would brook no disobedience.

Marnie nodded and tilted her head slightly.

A gesture that said,
Do as she says.

So Mike looked at the woman. “You know what? You keep telling me what to do and acting all mysterious and shit, but I don’t even know your name.”

“
My name is Nadia.”

“
Great. Well, I hate to tell you this, Nadia, because I really like Marnie here and it seems like she’s into this whole thing, but I’ve got no real interest in joining a satanic cult. You know, unless it’s just some kind of goof.”

Nadia’s smooth brow creased slightly. “A…goof?”

“
Yeah. A goof. Like you’re playing at being all dark and satanic, but it’s really just an excuse to hang out and party with some freaky friends.”

Nadia stared blankly at him for a long moment. Then her expression hardened some. “I see. I assure you, Mike, we are not
playing
at anything. Well, we do refer to our little group as the Diabolical Conspiracy, and there
is
a playful element to that. It sounds like it would be the name of a criminal organization in a spy movie parody. But it’s something of an in-joke. It also functions as a means of deflecting scrutiny from certain…authorities. Because who would take an organization called the Diabolical Conspiracy seriously, right? We are, however,
very
serious about what we do.”

“
And that is…what, exactly?”

Nadia uncrossed her legs and scooted to the edge of her chair. This was a slow and exquisitely sensual process. Despite Marnie’s proximity, he couldn’t help but drink in every smooth twist and shimmy of this woman’s delectable body. From the shifting of her hips to the way she exposed the finely toned curve of her calf when she briefly extended her right leg prior to scooting forward, it all compelled his complete attention. The hem of her dress rode up a little higher on her thighs as she moved, revealing more of that silken smooth flesh. By the time the process was complete, Mike was realizing how calculated every movement had been. He was being manipulated again. And, again, he had little to no control over either his physical or mental response. He ached to touch Nadia. To caress her body’s shapely curves. To listen to whatever brand of oddball horseshit came out of her mouth so long as he could remain close to her.

Not for the first time, he noted that more than half of the group’s members were young women. There were seven women and five men, not including himself. And, interestingly, not a single one of the women was remotely unattractive. The men were another story. Only two--Blake, and a guy he didn’t know--possessed looks roughly approaching something resembling handsomeness. The other guys ranged from average-looking to, in one case, undeniably ugly. Mike was self-aware enough to know that his own looks placed him firmly in the average category. It seemed clear that beauty was an actual requirement for female membership in the Diabolical Conspiracy. The reason couldn’t be more clear--for precisely this kind of manipulation. But to what end? It made Mike wonder what the women were getting out of this thing. Because obviously it wasn’t some quirky way of meeting hot, eligible guys.

Nadia was smiling again in that inscrutable way of hers. “You know, Mike, I am able to read people quite well. So well, in fact, I have occasionally been accused of being able to read minds. This is not true, of course, but my intuitive powers are so refined that it may as well be true. Let’s take you, for instance.”

Mike fought an impulse to squirm again. He could feel everyone in the room looking at him. Studying him. Evaluating him. “Me?”

She nodded. “You. A part of you is still clinging to the belief that our little group is some sort of sophisticated adult role-playing club.”

Mike shrugged. ‘Sophisticated’ wasn’t necessarily the right word, but her assessment was close enough to the truth. “Yeah. I guess. I mean, you tell me you’re not playing at anything, but I look around at all the faces here and all I see is a bunch of adults. No grownups I know take Satanism seriously. It’d be a different thing if you were all dope-smoking teenage metalheads. Or maybe not. I mean, this is the twenty-first century. Satanism is a great plot device for horror movies, but that’s about it.”

Mike’s gaze flitted about the room again as he became aware of the hostility being leveled at him from seemingly every direction. He looked briefly at Marnie. Yeah, from that direction, too. The air in the room felt suddenly stuffy and this time he couldn’t help shifting around on the chair. He tugged at his shirt collar and looked at Nadia again. “But that’s just, like…my opinion. No offense.”

The corners of Nadia’s mouth curved slightly upward. “Everyone…please cease staring daggers at Mike. We don’t want our prospective new member feeling uncomfortable. We want him to feel welcome.
Wanted
. More than that, Mike, we want you to feel as if you are part of something special. We want you to feel a sense of belonging when you’re among us. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“
I…guess?”

“
You don’t sound certain.”

“
I’m not certain about much of anything at the moment.”

Nadia nodded. “I thought as much. Allow me to reiterate a few points. We are a serious organization. What we do is in no way a goof. Nor is it an excuse to play naughty adult games. When we have orgies--”

“
When you
what
?”

“
Have orgies.”

“
That’s what I thought you said. Excuse the interruption. Please continue.”

Nadia made a soft sound that could have been either a quiet laugh or a grunt of disdain. With her it was hard to tell the difference. “As I was saying, when we have orgies, we do it in a ritualistic way. We treat it as something sacred. The expression of unrestrained physical lust symbolizes our freedom from God’s laws and our joy in the liberation our devotion to Satan allows us. Do you understand?”

Mike smiled tightly and nodded. “Yep.”

I understand that you’re a bunch of goddamn fruitcakes
.

“
You think we’re crazy.”

Holy shit, she really can read minds
.

He gave his head a single emphatic shake. “Nope.”

“
You’re lying, but I am not offended. The first steps along the path to satanic enlightenment are always the most difficult.”

“
That’s what I’ve heard.”

Someone seated to his left sniggered at that remark. A glance in that direction revealed it was Blake, who was now trying hard to push a smirk off his face. Seeing this had the effect of relaxing Mike some. It was the first sign that maybe not everyone here took this shit as seriously as Nadia and Marnie apparently did.

This impression lasted until the moment Nadia rose smoothly from her chair and crossed through the open space within the circle of chairs to stand directly in front of Blake. There was no longer even the faintest trace of mirth on his face as he stared tremblingly up at her. His mouth was moving. He was trying to say something, but no words were coming out. From his demeanor, Mike guessed he was trying to apologize, but fear had temporarily paralyzed his vocal cords.

Nadia’s right hand lashed out, snapping hard across his face. The sound was savage, like the crack of a whip on bare flesh. Then she nearly knocked him off the chair as she backhanded him. Mike grimaced at the display of wholly unexpected violence. Everything about the woman’s demeanor had changed. Gone was the air of almost snooty composure. In its place was an animal ferocity that scared the shit out of him. And scared the shit out of Blake as well, who was sobbing now and blubbering barely intelligible words of contrition. She slapped him again, harder than before, and followed it up with yet another backhand. This last blow did drive Blake from his chair. As soon as he hit the garage’s cement floor, Nadia commenced kicking him in the midsection. She was screaming at him and kicking him over and over as he curled into a fetal ball.

An impulse caused Mike to rise hesitantly from his chair. He wasn’t sure what his intent was. To intercede in some way, he supposed. But Marnie seized him by an arm and pulled him back down. To Mike’s shame, he allowed her to restrain him. Stopping the assault was unquestionably the right thing to do. In truth, though, he was too shaken by what he was seeing to even attempt it. Too shaken and…too afraid. The realization made him feel like a coward. He didn’t care for that at all, but it was a fact and he couldn’t hide from it. And he knew one thing with absolute certainty now. Nadia really wasn’t playing around here. He took a fresh look at the faces arrayed around him, seeing them all in a different light than before.

This wasn’t a game for any of them.

This was real…and very, very serious.

The people gathered here this evening were members of a genuine satanic cult.

Mike gulped.

God help me
.

2
.

“
The purpose of the Diabolical Conspiracy is to promote and foster evil whenever and however we can. In this way, we celebrate our dark lord and do what we can to further his work here in the mortal realm. Do you have any questions?”

The violence of a few moments earlier had ceased as abruptly as it had begun. Nadia was in her chair again, with her left leg crossed almost primly over her right again. The look of wild-eyed, almost feral savagery had vanished. The Nadia he’d glimpsed in those horrifying moments was a woman completely capable of murder, he had no doubt. Now she was again exuding an air of cultured sophistication and class. That was certainly a part of who she really was, but he knew now there was a darker truth behind the elegant veneer.

Did he have any questions?

Hell, he had about a million of them, but he was no longer sure how to ask them. Any lingering sense that this was a game had utterly vanished during Nadia’s assault on Blake. He could no longer couch his comments or questions in sarcasm. Offending Nadia was the last thing he wanted at this point. Because if he did offend her, what was to stop her from unleashing some of that fearsome rage on him? Any response at all had to be very carefully considered. More than ever, he wanted to get up and walk the hell out of here, but he had the creeping sense that any attempt to flee would be doomed to failure. These people wouldn’t allow him to leave. He tried telling himself this was just paranoia, that he wasn’t a prisoner here, but he didn’t believe it. He was trapped here, stuck among this group of lunatics until the meeting was over. At least.

Nadia’s expression softened some as she watched him. Was there even a trace of something like empathy in the cast of her features? It didn’t seem likely in light of what she had done to Blake. Probably it was just a trick of the light.

“
I can tell you’re troubled by what you’ve witnessed here this evening. Perhaps you’re even afraid of me. But Mike, I want you to know you can speak freely here. You need not fear retribution for anything you say.”

Mike’s gaze flicked over to Blake for a moment. His friend was back in his chair, sitting on its edge, with his eyes trained on the cement floor and his arms clasped tight over his undoubtedly sore abdomen. It was obvious he remained in a considerable amount of pain.

Mike swallowed and at last found the courage to speak. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Nadia, but you’ll have to forgive me if I have trouble believing you. I just watched you stomp a man half to death because he laughed at something I said.”

“
That’s different, Mike. Blake is a fully initiated member of the Diabolical Conspiracy. He has sworn his allegiance to Satan, to the club, and, yes, to myself. This is not the first time he’s been impertinent at an inappropriate time. He has been warned and yet he couldn’t help misbehaving. Everyone else here knows better.” Her voice went up a sharp octave as her head swiveled in Blake’s direction. “Isn’t that right, Blake?”

Blake raised his head with some reluctance and flipped long locks from his forehead. “Yes. I’m sorry, I--”