Coven

“How do you know my…” but Penelope’s words languished. Her hand never turned the ignition. The woman was looking at her now, and all Penelope could do was look back.

—You can help us.

The woman was dressed in black, a black cape with a hood. The hood made the woman’s face hard to see. Oddest of all, she wore sunglasses in spite of the night.

—Don’t be afraid. I want to be your friend.

Within the drooping hood, details of the woman’s face seemed to shift beneath a fine blur. Her skin was vibrant white, bloodless.

Penelope didn’t understand anything now. There was only this. “What do you want?” she peeped.

—We want you.

At once Penelope was drowning in her whole life. Tears came. All she ever wanted was to be cared about, to be…wanted.

The woman’s luminous smile eased close. —You’re very special, Penelope. I can show you how special you are.

It was something like credence, an awareness rather than a conclusion. It would be wonderful to be special, to be loved.

—Love.

The woman touched Penelope’s cheek. The warm hand seemed to seal the promise of trust.

—I’ll protect you, the woman in black promised. —I have something to give you, something you’ve never had before.

Penelope’s whole world now was the woman’s touch. The warm white hand began to probe her breasts. The sensation was delicious. But what had the woman said? Something to give her?

—Destiny.

“Wh what?”

—I can show you destiny, Penelope. I can show you love.

“Show me,” Penelope moaned.

The woman’s blurred face hovered close. The scarlet lips parted. The mouth opened wide, full of teeth like a dog’s.

««—»»

Tom poured the Spatens with the exactitude of a master. “We’ll give Jervis an hour. If he doesn’t show, we’ll split.”

Wade nodded. No one could remember seeing Jervis all day. Wade had a bad feeling.

“You’re worried about him,” Tom commented. “You don’t believe he’s over this Sarah thing even though he said he was.”

“Well…”

“You think he’s gonna lose it, shoot himself, or climb to the top of the WHPL tower and do a double gainer.”

Could he picture it? “It’s just not like him to disappear.”

Was he being unreasonable? He couldn’t cast off the gut feeling, the presage that Jervis’ emotions were too rampant for his selfhood. How close was he, really, to cracking up?

“Hey, Wade. Here’s an old one.”

“Please,” Wade pleaded. “I’m in no mood for conservative jokes.”

“What do Carter and the North Virginia Amtrak have in common?”

“I’d really rather not—”

“They both pull out of Rosalynn at five A.M. sharp.

Wade shook his head. Tom’s jokes were like a Kirby vacuum cleaner: they sucked.

The inn was packed. They sipped their Spatens like wine poseurs. Beer snobbery was an intricate art. No Bud for these two. Then Wade said, “Wouldn’t it be a riot if Jervis was here and Sarah walked in?”

Tom glanced behind him. “You psychic?” he asked when he saw who was side traipsing through.

Sarah Black emerged from the wall of backs and heads, her eyes thinned as if in some harsh assessment. She wore purple high heels, blue leather pants, and a clinging blouse the color of arterial blood. Very short platinum blond hair fit against her head like a flier’s cap.

“Hey, Sarah!” Wade called out. “How’s it going?”

“Don’t,” Tom warned. “Don’t start a scene.”

“How are things in the she devil business?” Wade asked. “Good?”

She gauged him without reaction.

“That was really classy the way you dumped Jervis.”

“This is a mistake,” Tom told him.

Sarah sniped back: “I didn’t dump him. Things just didn’t—”

“I know,” Wade completed. “Things just didn’t work out. That’s what girls always say when they dump a guy.”

“I didn’t dump him!”

“You dumped him cold for the first new pecker to cross the pike. Why not just admit?”

Sarah’s dark eyes reflected sheer rage. “What the hell do you know! I didn’t dump him! We broke up because Jervis was no longer compatible with the dynamics of our relationship!”

Wade chuckled. “That’s a good one. You were just taking him for a ride until someone with more money came along.”

“I was not!”

“Oh, and I like that outfit, by the way. I guess Warhol had a rummage sale, huh?”

Sarah’s cheeks seemed to be wafting heat.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. It’s not against the law to be an absolutely awful person. You should congratulate yourself on a job well done… Now, see if you can interpret the significance of the following gesture.” Wade pushed his nostrils up with his index fingers and began to make pig noises.

Sarah shrieked: “I’m getting my new boyfriend to kick your ass!”

“Hey, I’m shakin’,” Wade said. “I’m leaving town. See?”

Sarah tromped off, her lips pursed to a tight, red seam.

“When are you gonna learn to control yourself?” Tom complained.

Wade shrugged sheepishly. Many patrons were staring at him, brows raised. “I couldn’t resist. She had it coming.”

Tom ordered two more Spatens. “I don’t understand how Jerv could fall in love with that gold digger anyway.”

“Love’s a funny thing,” Wade speculated. “It clouds our sense of reason. The Eleventh Commandment: Love makes morons of men.”

Tom slapped the bar. “I knew you had religion in you somewhere.”

The Spatens caught up fast; you could only put so much in before you had to let some out. Wade excused himself to the men’s room, which was empty and damp. As he tended to business, the wall provided an engaging display of graffiti. “Eat, drink, and be Larry,” one scrawl read. “West Virginia men are men…and sheep are nervous.” And: “I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than have a frontal lobotomy.”

Sounds like you need both, Wade thought. But when he turned to leave, he found a frightfully large figure standing in the doorway.

“Pardon me, brother. You’re blocking the door.”

“Zat iss correct,” came a succinct, zinging German inflection.

Wade already knew who it was. This fucker’s huge, he thought, and that was all he thought for some time. Wilhelm Karl von Heinrich loomed, bringing his angular face and blue eyes into the light. He