'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.
