'Rumania.'
'I thought that country was under communist control.'
'I travel wherever and whenever I choose, Sam. My investments are worldwide. Tell me about your father.'
'I never knew him. He died before I was born. My mother married a doctor before I was born. He delivered me. Doctor Tony King.'
'But you always knew this King person was not your father?'
'Oh, yes. They made that clear when I was old enough to understand. My dad was a minister. Big man.'
In more ways than one, she thought. 'But you never had the calling?'
'Me?' Sam laughed. 'Oh, no. But I have worn dad's cross around my neck—all my life.' He touched the center of his chest, feeling the outline of the cross.
Roma fought to keep herself from recoiling away from the young man. She remembered that cross very well: it had burned her several times while she and Sam Balon were grappling for control, prior to mating as they fought in circles through timeless, trackless space, neutral ground, ruled by no Master.
Roma shivered.
'Cold?' Sam touched her arm instinctively, protectively. At the touch, his chest began that strange burning, now much more intense.
'No,' she said shortly. The mention of that damned cross driving all thoughts of sex from her. She moved away from his touch; the burning in the center of his chest ceased. 'I must go,' she moved toward the house. 'I'll see you in the morning, Sam. Sleep well.'
She was gone, the darkness of her gown fading into the night.
Footsteps echoed hollowly on the stone walkway leading from the yard. Sam turned. A tall, almost emaciated- looking man slowly made his way up to the terrace.
'Best you go in the house now, sir.' The man spoke slowly, as if the act of speaking was painful.
'Why?'
'Because it is going to rain, and you are not dressed for the elements.'
Sam looked up into the sky. Thousands of stars twinkled down at him. 'But there isn't a cloud in the sky!'
'It will rain,' the man insisted. 'Soon.'
'What's your name?' Sam asked.
'Perkins. Jimmy Perkins.'
'Have you worked for the Williams long?'
'Years. Go in the house now.' The man turned, and the night seemed to dissolve him.
Sam listened for the sound of fading footsteps. But none could be heard. The man appeared to have vanished.
Perkins? Sam thought. Now … where have I heard that name before?
Lying in his bed, conscious of Nydia in the next room, near but so far, just before sleep spread its gentle blanket over him, Sam was still musing over the tall man with the somehow familiar name.
And on the dresser, the cross glowed dully.
'Meddling!' Satan fired a dirty salvo into the Heavens. 'Always meddling. Why can't you abide by the rules?'
'You are complaining about rules being broken, Asmodeus? How droll.'
'We made an agreement—aeons ago. You rule the Heavens; I rule the earth.'
'I don't recall any hard and fast set of rules.' The Master of All chuckled, and the Heavens rumbled with thunder. 'Hooved one, you amuse me. Your mind, what there is of it, is open for inspection. My maverick resident returned to earth by his own volition—not with my permission.'
'You lifted the veil.'
'Not necessarily. Balon is a curious one, and a brave one. He takes chances; he pries; he investigates. Besides, the boundaries that divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends and the other begins?'
Satan howled his laughter, the foulness stinking the air. 'That is not very original of you, Thunder-Breath. Have you taken to spending your time reading Poe?'
'Idiot! Who do you suppose put the thought in his mind?'
'I was under the impression it was I.'
'That says a great deal for your intelligence.'
'I don't have to stand here and be insulted.'
'Anywhere you go is an insult to someone.'
'Bah!'
And the Heavens became silent as a gentle rain began falling over Falcon House and the grounds surrounding
