"One hell of a warrior."
"Sam … !" she gave him a disapproving look for his paradoxical statement. "Anyway … warriors fight. Blood is spilled … right?"
"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. "Could be you're right."
"Is the beast the Devil?"
1 … guess so.
"You're a preacher's son, Sam. You're supposed to know these things."
"I'm a backslider, honey. Not a very good Christian."
She kissed his cheek. "I don't believe that, Sam. Not for a second. Michael cast out Satan, right?"
"That's what it says."
"So … of all the angels in Heaven, who would be the one most likely to help someone fight the Devil?"
Sam looked at her in the dim light. The look he gave her was of extreme uncertainty. "Are you … Nydia, are you saying that Michael is helping me? That he is here?"
"I don't know, Sam. Maybe he isn't here; maybe he doesn't have to be here, yet, to do these things."
"Yet?"
"Let me finish. Was your father a warrior?"
"A war hero. Yeah, he was a warrior."
"Who would he most likely make friends with … uh … up there?" She pointed upward.
"Honey, this is getting a little bit farfetched. When was the last time you recall any angels appearing here on earth?"
"Well … how would we know, really? I mean, people might not want to speak of the sighting, right?"
"You have a point. Yeah. For fear of being laughed at. I … seem to recall reading that Michael did appear to help—in some way—with Joan of Arc."
"All right. Your father had to have appeared to give you that envelope, didn't he? He's in Whitfield right now, isn't he?"
"Yeah. But my father isn't an angel."
"How do you know that?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't."
Before either could say another word, a light tap sounded at the door. Sam sighed heavily and stood up.
'Put away the Bible, Nydia. No sense tempting the gods—from either end of the spectrum."
He opened the door. Roma stood looking at him, her dark eyes burning with a strange light.
"Mrs. Williams. Excuse me: Roma," Sam corrected. "It's late for a social call, isn't it?"
"Oh, I assure you, Sam Balon King. This is no social call."
He smiled. "All bets down, the pot's right, and time for the last card, right?"
She laughed. "Oh, my dear, you are your father's son. Yes, darling, time for a little chat."
"Between good and evil?"
She shrugged, the movement lifting her breasts, and she noted that Sam noticed. She had changed into a gown of dark blue, floor length, cut low, the V dipping far into the swell of her breasts. "Good and evil, Sam? Well, perhaps. Tell me: how far have you taken my daughter into the candy-coated world of Christianity?"
"I baptized her."
Roma grimaced, her nose wrinkling as if she smelled something bad. "How perfectly disgusting. Before or after you fucked her?''
Sam stood in the doorway. He said nothing.
Roma smiled. "You Christians—self-proclaimed—really want it both ways, don't you? You want on the one hand to mouth all those heavenly platitudes, but you still want to fuck whenever the mood grips you. Have you eaten her pussy yet, Sam?"
Sam returned her sardonic smile, sensing she was deliberately baiting him, trying to anger him.
She laughed. "Very good, Sam—I couldn't bait your father, either. Who, by the way, is also Nydia's father. And, of course, the father of Black. Just thought you might like to know that the next time you got an urge to screw."
"We know," Sam said.
"Fucking your half sister, Sam? My, my! What does your God have to say about that?"
"I don't know. I haven't asked Him."
She arched an eyebrow. "Well … how casual you are. That cosmic gnome you worship might take exception at your flip attitude toward sex."
"We'll take our chances."
Then, without explanation, her smile changed to one containing a trace of sadness. "Believe me, darling … we are all about to do that. I see no reason to stand here in the hallway discussing this. Why don't we behave as civilized human beings," she laughed aloud at that, "and adjourn to the den where we can be more comfortable? I assure you, no harm will befall either of you. We do have a great deal to discuss."
"Mac, Howard, Linda, Judy, Lana?" Nydia spoke from her seat on the edge of the bed.
'They are sleeping soundly. Howard on his stomach, I should imagine. I have no doubt but what you will both rush to their sides upon their waking to tell them the dire news."
"Isn't Howard one of you now?" Sam asked, and wondered how he knew that.
"Ah … perhaps. Yes. You are a wise one, aren't you? Of course, he is."
"Then get him out of Mac's room and bunk him somewhere else. Give Mac a chance, at least."
Roma flushed. "You, young man, do not order me about."
Sam slammed the door in her face.
A short pause, a tap on the door. Sam opened the door, Roma's anger was under control, her face no longer nushed. "You're very sure of your power, aren't you, Sam Balon King?"
"As certain as I can be that my God will protect me against those who serve the Beast."
Roma turned her head and spoke in a language that Sam did not recognize. When she again faced him, he asked, "What language was that?"
"Ancient Gallic. I speak all languages known on earth, Sam—and many that have long since vanished."
"Considering how ancient you must be, I should imagine that would come in handy."
Roma howled her approval. "Oh, very good, Sam! Score one point for you. Oh, my, yes. You are a most worthy foe. I have instructed that Howard be moved into a room of his own." She smiled. "For all the good it will do Mac. Are you coming to the den?"
Sam glanced at Nydia. She nodded her head, her face pale. "Yes," Sam said to the witch.
She vanished in front of his eyes, without a trace.
"Unusual activity tonight," the astronomer said to his colleague, his partner in sharing the lonely nights searching the Heavens from their earth-bound observatory in California.
"Oh? What type?"
"I … don't know that I can explain it."
His friend glanced at him. "Twenty-five years in this business and you give me an answer like that? Come on, Ralph: you can do better."
"Quick bursts of light; not connected with anything I know about. Strange. Almost … almost … like messages being sent from deep space."
"You been reading the Bible again, Ralph?" his friend asked, not unkindly, but with a slight sarcastic tone to his voice. It was something his partner had grown used to years before.
"I read the Bible every day, Glenn."
Glenn rose from behind his desk and climbed up the ladder to the huge telescope, actually a series of scopes, each amplifying the other, boosting the power to tremendous dimensions. The agnostic watched the Heavens for a few moments, pausing only to check his computations against those of his friend. They matched perfectly, verifying the location of the supposed sighting.
"Nothing, Ralph. You've been working too hard, that's all.
Ralph said nothing in reply.
"Did you shoot film?"
"You know I did." The reply was softly stated.
"Well … let's develop it."
But Ralph was strangely reluctant to do that, and that only peaked his colleague's curiosity even further. And when questioned, he would only shake his head.
"All right, Ralph." Glenn sat beside his friend. "Come on, give. We've been friends too long for this silent act."
Ralph looked at his friend and coworker for many, many years. Looked at him closely. Unlike Glenn, Ralph was a Christian—or tried to be—and he believed in the big bang theory about as much as he believed a duck could shit gold dust. "There won't be anything on the film," he finally said.
"Why?"
"Because what I saw can't be—won't be—
filmed, that's why. So let's change the subject. Get some coffee."
Glenn put out a restraining hand. "I won't kid about your belief in God, Ralph. I can sense this is not the time. And I believe you did see something, and I stress 'something.' It will not go any further than this platform. I give my word. Now what did you see?"
Ralph's eyes appeared deep-sunk in his skull, and his face was pale. He ran nervous fingers through thinning hair. "I … saw the face of God."
Glenn sat quietly for a moment. "All right, Ralph. Is that all? What else? What did He look like?"
"Angry. Concerned. Worried. And … awesome. Oh … did He look awesome. Breathtaking."
'In human form?"
"In a … manner of speaking."
"What was He doing? Just skipping around the sky? And I don't mean that in an ugly way."
"He … was meeting with someone … something. Another being."
"Ralph! Have you lost your mind? Are you serious about this?"
"Yes, I'm serious. He … was … well, it looked like … He had intercepted someone … something. A being, like I said. I've never seen anything like it. Glenn … it was … terrible. It was beautiful, wrathful. I hate to be redundant, but it was awesome."
"Explain awesome."
"I … don't know that I can. The figure was … holding something in one … mighty hand. It … oh, don't think me nuts, Glenn … looked like a sword or big knife. The figure appeared … I don't know. Exalted, I guess."
Glenn had worked with his friend for too many years to think he was pulling his leg, and to not take him seriously. Ralph Fairbanks was a highly respected man in his field, one of the top men in the world, constantly in demand for speaking engagements and classroom lectures.
Something very close to excited fear touched Glenn. He had not experienced it in a long time. "Go on, buddy … tell it all."
Somewhere in the vastness of the huge planetarium, a phone began to ring. It rang several times before someone stilled the jangling.
Ralph sighed. "It … seemed to me that the two … figures were, well, arguing, I guess is the right word. Almost violently. The one more . . . imposing figure, impressive, was pointing upward; the warrior-appearing figure was pointing downward, pointing with that terrible-looking weapon he … it held in his hand."
The blinker on the phone popped on. Glenn finally picked up the telephone. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment, his eyes widening. "No warning; no nothing? Impossible!" He listened for a moment longer. "All in one night? This close together? Good God!" He hung up.
"What?" his friend asked.
"Small volcano in the Malay archipelago just blew its cork. Hell, it's been dormant for centuries."
'No warning?"
"None."
Ralph smiled. "What else?"
"How do you know there was anything else?"
'I know."
"Couple of small monsoons. A tidal wave or two. All without serious damage. No reported injuries or deaths. Earthquake in a couple of places. No major damage. People reporting some sort of … heavenly voices coming out of the sky. Their words; damn sure not mine. Large hail in spots. Tremendous lightning reported around Montreal."
"Where around Montreal?"
"Eighty-ninety miles north. Why?"
" 'And the temple of God was opened in Heaven,' " Ralph said, closing his eyes, " 'and there was seen in his temple the ark of his testament; and there were lightnings, and voices, and thunderings, and an earthquake, and great hail.' "
"What the hell is that drivel, Ralph?"
"Revelation, chapter eleven, verse nineteen."
"It was a fluke of nature, Ralph!"
"If that is what you believe, Glenn."
"Goddamnit, Ralph! Now listen to me: you're a scientist. You know as well as I there is a logical explanation for everything. I'm not going to argue fact and fiction with you; we've been doing that for a quarter of a century, and all it gets us is out of sorts with each other. I'm going to get that fucking film and see what's on it. I'll be back shortly."
When Glenn returned, Ralph had not moved from his seat. "Nothing on the film, Ralph. Nothing took."
"I told you there wouldn't be."
"I'm going to switch scope positions; take a look at that new star."
"All right."
"You don't object?"
"Why should I?"
"Maybe your … apparitions will pop up again. Don't you want to see your holy people?"
Ralph smiled at his friend's sarcasm. "I've seen them."
The red light on the phone glowed. Glenn answered it, listening for a moment. When he turned to his friend, the expression on his face was strange … tight.
"News?" Ralph asked.
"Some … stargazers up in Canada wanted to know if any of us had witnessed … something … some visions in the sky tonight. Said they shot film, but nothing developed. Said he didn't want me to think him a fool, or that he'd been boozing on the job, but it appeared to be two … things arguing."
"And?" Ralph prodded him, knowing there was more.
"He said," Glenn sighed, "that others had called in, from reporting stations all around the world. Said they all witnessed the same … whatever it was. Said they were all—to use his words—awestruck."
"Go on, Glenn."
"You really want to rub my nose in it, don't you?"
"No, old friend, I don't."
"Well … I didn't see it. If I had seen it, I probably would have been able to identify the sighting without tailing back on unproven superstition."
The two men glared at each other for a few seconds, Ralph finally breaking the silence. "What is it they claim to have seen?"
The astronomer stalked from the upper platform, carefully climbing down the ladder to the lower level. He walked to the door, his back stiff with anger. There, he paused, turning around. "They all claim to have seen … the face of God."
He slammed the door behind him.
Ralph looked upward, at the stars that twinkled high above him through the open roof. He said, in a voice that held the utmost respect, "I never had any doubts."
TWELVE
"Do you want introductions?" Roma asked the young couple.
"I imagine we'll all get to know one another very well before the next eight days are up," Sam answered.
The den was crowded with young people, and Sam knew Nydia felt as he did: somewhat edgy and very much alone. The young people, the kids they had seen being forced into the house were not present. Sam supposed they had been drugged and put to bed. Most of the men in the room were hard-looking types, with craggy faces and savage eyes. The women were attractive, in a sultry, evil way, with unreadable eyes. A couple were beautiful. Several young people no older than Sam were present, standing off to one side with the people from Nelson and Carrington College. They all wore smirky expressions, cocky looks, their eyes bright and shiny with depraved confidence.
"Members of the older Covens in this country and the United States," Falcon said, gesturing at the new group. "Your God broke the rules. We saw no reason to maintain our standards."
"Why are you telling us this?" Sam asked.
"So you can make your choice, naturally," Falcon replied. "Live or die … the latter being rather hideously, I might add, should you foolishly choose that course."
"The choice has been made for us," Sam said, glancing at Nydia.
"That was yesterday," Roma said. "I assure you both, you may leave this area if you so desire."
"Our God would prefer we remain," Nydia said, the words blurting from her mouth.
Falcon laughed as his eyes mentally undressed the young woman. Of all the females present, Nydia was by far the most lovely and desirable, and Falcon was looking forward to the moment when he would spread those lovely legs and position himself inside the wet heat of her. "My, Nydia, how brave you have become with your newfound religion. Are you looking forward to servicing half a dozen men—at one time?"
"I don't believe that time
will come. Falcon," she told him, a set to her chin that was alien to him.
"We'll see," the reply was spoken softly, filled with menace.
One of the new men opened his trousers and brazenly exposed his penis, long and thick. He stroked his manhood and grinned nastily at Nydia. "I am certainly looking forward to the time."
"Put it back in your pants, Karl," Roma told him. She cut her eyes to Sam. "Don't you see your position is hopeless?"
"If that is the case, why not just take us now?" Sam asked. "What are you afraid of?"
The room filled with laughter. "Afraid?" Roma said. "My dear, we are not afraid. Put that out of your mind. If, or when, the time arrives, we shall take you both by force. But why so soon? Why risk personal injury when there is always the chance we can convince you—both of you—to come to our side?"
"You will be tempted." Balon's words in the letter filled Sam's head. "And you will fall to some of those temptations."
Sam remained silent.
"I'm Toni," one of the young women said. "And I have a question: why would you want to resist us? I don't understand. I was once a Christian; raised in the church. A few years ago my mother was dying of cancer. I prayed to her God—my God, then—to save her, spare her, or at least allow her to die mercifully. He did neither. She died a long, slow, horrible death—unforgivably agonizing. Don't hand me the bullshit of your God being a good and just God. Yet, after I joined the Forces of Darkness, my father was struck by a car and lay dying in a hospital. I asked our Master to save him, and he did." She moved to Karl's side. "This is my father. See, he is alive and well." She put her hand on his crotch and caressed his penis. She giggled. "Very well, I can assure you both of that."
Neither Sam nor Nydia had anything to say about the incestuous relationship. But both of them wondered about their own.
"Your God offers you nothing," Toni continued, her fingers rubbing her father's crotch. "The Prince of Darkness offers everything. And really, our Master demands so little, as compared to the rules your God expects you to follow. Don't you agree?"
"We serve our God," Sam said. "Our God serves us."
"Double-talk," Toni said. She looked at Nydia, open envy in her eyes as she gazed at her beauty. "I hope your man fucks with more conviction than he talks."
The Devil's Heart Page 14
