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 Helclass="underline" "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.