The Evil Inside

good-isn’t.”

They both stared at her blankly.

“There is a horned demon, right?” Jenna asked.

Ivy shook her head. “No demons. And no devils.”

“Ivy, there is a horned god,” Cecilia reminded her. “But he isn’t evil. He isn’t a devil. He is one of the oldest of gods. Many believe that his image has been drawn on walls by cavemen. He is…”

“He is the connection between us and the earth, the wind, the sky, the greenery,” Ivy finished, as though reading a pamphlet.

“Ah, but when you talk about people contorting things, he could easily be contorted,” Cecilia told her. “He is often connected with images of the Green Man, and he is seen sitting with immense arms, embracing the heavens and earth, with a very erect phallus. He is the cycle, fertility, birth and the sexuality that is essential for rebirth.

“And,” Cecilia added, “though as far as I can tell none of the Witch Trial victims was a pagan, I can see how the prim and so-called proper people of the day would try to make him into a devil or a demon. Oh, he’s considered the god of the underworld, so I suppose, in Christianity, that would make him the god of hell. You know-he is represented with cloven hoofs and horns and all that.” She shivered. “People were so…easily scared!”

Jenna smiled and agreed. “Well, there were Indian raids, babies died, there was so little light…and they’d been killing one another for decades and decades over religion on the Continent by the time the Pilgrims came here.”

“Why are you asking all this?” Cecilia asked curiously.

Jenna wasn’t about to explain to them that she’d seen one, in postcognition-murdering people. “I’ve seen one running around,” she said.

Ivy groaned. “Yeah, yeah! And you’ll see witches with warts on their noses, too. It’s Halloween. A holiday for one and all.”

“Hey, now, tolerance is what we need, and it’s what we’re all about,” Cecilia reminded her.

“Oh, yeah, and if I ran around dressed like Jesus Christ or the Virgin Mary, people wouldn’t be pissed at me?” Ivy demanded.

Cecilia sighed. Before she could speak again, a woman walked politely up to them, excused herself, and asked about her psychic reading with Merlin.

“I’m sure he’ll be right out,” Ivy assured the woman. “Merlin is excellent at keeping his appointment times, but he’s very thorough. I know you’ll enjoy your time with him, and that he’ll be tremendously enlightening.”

As she spoke, the man Jenna assumed to be Merlin came out of the curtained-off area in the back, followed by a young woman who seemed to be glowing.

She had certainly enjoyed her reading.

The man came toward them. He had long, curling brown hair, and was wearing a cape covered in stars and moons against a deep blue velvet background.

As he came even closer, Jenna realized she knew him and smiled. “Tommy! Tommy Wainscott!”

He smiled as well and walked forward, giving her a hug and whispering, “Merlin, please, if you will, Irish!”

Tommy had gone to school with Cecilia and Ivy. They’d all been friends. On her many visits to Salem, he’d liked to tease Jenna a lot about the color of her hair.

“Merlin!” she said quickly.

“Merlin,” Ivy said, a dry edge to her voice. “Your next appointment is waiting.”

“I’d heard you were here,” Tommy said, brown eyes dancing as he looked at her. “Will I get to see you?”

“Sure,” Jenna said.

“Gotta go now! Business is good, but there’s competition in town,” he told her. He turned, thoughtfully rather than dramatically, to the young woman who was his next appointment. “If you will, please?” He indicated the back.

Jenna smiled. “So Tommy is a medium now?”

“He’s very good,” Ivy said.

“I believe you,” Jenna assured her.

“He can stand against any of them,” Cecilia said. “Even the new blood with the big boobs.”

“Who’s the new blood with the big boobs?”

“Samantha,” Cecilia said.

“Oh? Samantha Yeager-who wanted to buy the old Lexington place?” Jenna asked.

“The one and only,” Ivy said.

“She’s working at a shop down at the end of Essex Street. It’s right next to Winona’s Wine Bar. I think her people come in on the spirited side to begin with. Also, she gets lots of men who wouldn’t step foot in with a medium if their lives depended on it otherwise…”

“Ah. I’m curious about her,” Jenna said. “Maybe I’ll go for a reading.”

“Merlin is much better!” Cecilia assured her.

“Much!” Ivy added.

Ivy frowned. “You’re not into a different-lifestyle these days, are you? I mean, it’s absolutely fine with us. We love our friends no matter what their religion or whatever, including sexual likes.”

Jenna smiled. “No, no lifestyle change. Just curiosity.”

“She’s investigating stuff for the Lexington House murders, silly,” Cecilia reminded her. “But, hey, we’re curious as all get-out about Samantha, too! You’ve got to come back and tell us all about it.”

“Will do,” Jenna promised.

She left the shop and walked along the pedestrian mall. Haunted Happenings remained wonderfully in full swing. She noted a row of small buckets and saw that the town fathers had figured out how to have kids bob for apples in a more sanitary fashion than when she’d been a kid. One mouth in a tub-and then it was washed and refilled. The bobbing-for-apples crew-attired in pirate gear-was busy.

A medieval group had set up to sing and play a bit farther down, and one shop front boasted The Best Haunted House In All New England.

Still farther along, a busy group had children doing mock gravestone rubbings.

There was something for everyone.

At last she came to a shop where a large sign advertised Madam Sam, the Best Reading In All New England!

Not in Salem-just like the haunted house, she was the best in all New England!

She noted the wine bar next door and smiled.

Bells chimed when she opened the door to the shop. Like the other merchants, the store was enjoying the busy trade of Haunted Happenings. Men and women in and out of costume looked at beautiful dolls, herbs, gris-gris bags, magical stones, jewelry and clothing.

Jenna approached the counter and asked about a reading with Madam Sam.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the girl behind the desk with black pigtails and a huge nose ring told her. “A lady just became faint, and had to go back to her hotel. We’re otherwise booked all day, so you are lucky, lucky, lucky!”

“How lucky indeed,” Jenna murmured. “The woman is all right?”

“What?”

“The lady who was faint-she was all right?”

The girl waved a hand in the air. “Oh, her husband just took her back to her room. It’s the Fates! You’re the one who should have the reading!” she said happily. “Come along-we have to adhere to a schedule, of course. You’re ever so lucky!”

Jenna followed the woman to the back and a setup that was similar to that at A Little Bit of Magic.

The clerk opened a heavy damask drapery for her and led her into the small cubicle where the medium was working.

Madam Sam was a beautiful woman. She was wearing a low-cut gypsy-style dress, and her hair was ink-black, long and sleek as it fell down her back. Her eyes were so blue they were almost violet, but Jenna could see, even by the dim light that added atmosphere to the cubicle, that the color had been enhanced with contact lenses. She wore very heavy makeup, especially around her eyes, adding to her look of the sexy gypsy reader.