The Price of Sin

by Monica Belle

  Spent, he stepped away, leaving me with my mouth wide in anticipation of a new cock to suck on as my buggering continued, only for my eager gape to turn to a scream. I could now see down the path towards the Hall, along which a huge dog was lopping slowly towards me, eyes glowing like coals in the great black head, glowing red. It was coming right at me and suddenly my head was completely clear but for stark terror. I struggled to break away, still gripped by the hips as the man in my bumhole continued to thrust into me, swearing and cursing as he buggered me but utterly oblivious to what was coming. Again I screamed, yelling at him to let go and wrenching at the stone of the altar top, and as he finished himself off inside me with a grunt I shot forward, to roll off and land hard on the ground, right in the path of the hound as it entered the folly.

  Panic hit me and I was desperately trying to scrabble away from the horror, crawling on the hard stone of the floor, screaming the name of Black Shuck, but the others seemed oblivious, still sucking and fucking all around me. One man squatted down to thrust his cock at my mouth, blocking my path, and the next instant I was caught, mounted, gripped by the waist and entered, my cunt filling with cock even as a man screamed and, at last, they’d realised what was happening. Darius cursed, his bass voice raised in astonishment as he saw the apparition. Other people began to scream, the cock slipped from my hole and I was free, lurching to my feet and into Julian’s arms, which had never been more welcome.

  He spoke to me, calm and soothing, without a trace of fear, before lifting me and carrying me from the folly and down among the reeds. Only then did I realise that he had a torch, already on as he slung me over his shoulder and started off down the path. I could see back, to the chaos around the folly, no longer brightly lit, but with faint orange light from the remaining candles flickering on the backs of a last few naked figures as they fled wildly into the woods or towards the Hall. On the altar stood Black Shuck, his forelegs braced wide, his red eyes glowing into mine, and at that I fainted, my last thought that I had paid the price of sin.

  Chapter Four

  THAT WAS ALSO MY first thought when I woke up, but my sudden, startled panic lasted only an instant before I realised that I wasn’t in the folly at all, or anywhere near it, but on a bunk in a light, airy cabin that could only belong to a boat. It did, a big motor cruiser with a covered cabin, pushing gently through the waves to create a slight buffeting motion. I could see Julian through the door, standing at the wheel of the boat in nothing but tatty cut-down jeans and a pair of deck shoes. He was smiling, and behind him was open sky, clear blue but for a streak of high cloud.

  As I threw my legs off the bunk he raised a hand in casual salute. I got to my feet, climbing from the cabin to find that we were at sea, with the coast already indistinct in the distance and the sun high in the sky. Julian gave me a happy grin, put his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head, at which I started to babble questions at him.

  ‘What’s happening? What happened last night?! Black Shuck ...’

  ‘Hush. It was a dog. Just a dog.’

  ‘It was vast, and it’s eyes!’

  ‘Reflected candlelight.’

  ‘No. They were glowing, and before that. I’ve never felt that way, when we all ...’

  I trailed off, wanting to tell him that I’d felt I was possessed, but I knew he’d only make light of my experience. He’d begun to stroke my hair as he went on.

  ‘You just let yourself go, that’s all, and it really was only a dog.’

  ‘Whose dog?’

  ‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. Now hush, darling, you’re OK.’

  ‘Yes, but ...’

  I broke off, too confused to know what to say. Julian was always so calm, so sure of himself, but I knew what I’d seen, or I thought I did. What had happened even fitted the legend, because he’d stayed calm and it hadn’t followed, while I’d panicked, tried to escape and paid the price. Yet Julian was right. I was OK – just a little sore. I was also on a boat somewhere off the Norfolk coast, which didn’t make sense at all.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  He stayed silent for a long time before speaking.

  ‘I probably owe you an explanation, and an apology.’

  ‘Why? What have you done?’

  ‘I’d better start at the beginning. Do you remember Amanda?’

  ‘The girl you had in the chapel? Of course.’

  ‘And I told you that I did it to get even with Haines? Well, that was only part of the reason. Amanda was the verger’s daughter, and being with her enabled me to borrow the key to the crypt and get it copied. In the crypt there was a solid silver, Queen Anne communion service.’

  ‘You stole it!’

  ‘No, but I was planning to. After what happened it seemed too risky, and besides, I couldn’t find a buyer and it would have been a real crime to melt something like that down. I did make a few contacts though, which led on to better things, much better things, the latest of which you have become involved in.’

  I didn’t answer immediately, trying to put my muddled thoughts into order as I watched the coast slip away, with the implications of what he was saying sinking in only slowly. Finally Julian voiced my own thoughts.

  ‘I’m a thief. A highly specialised art thief, but still a thief. I work on commission for wealthy collectors. Do you remember the paintings I took so much care to put into storage? They’re in the bow cuddy: a Constable, a Gainsborough, a Rossetti and a beautiful Fragonard I’d keep for myself if my client wasn’t offering quite so much.’

  ‘But Vanessa ...’

  ‘Wouldn’t know a Rossetti from a risotto. Henry would, but you know what he’s like. What a pair, eh? Oh, and didn’t I tell you I’d even things up between you and Vanessa?’

  ‘Thank you, I suppose. But where are we going?’

  ‘The Baltic Coast, near Kaliningrad.’

  ‘Russia!’

  ‘Well, yes. My client is Russian.’

  There didn’t seem to be much to say to that and I went quiet again, more confused than ever, until a single thought managed to force itself to the fore.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I couldn’t. I didn’t know how you’d react, and anyway, I doubt you’d have played your part as well if you’d known the truth.’

  ‘Played my part?’

  ‘Yes, and you were brilliant. I’d never have managed to get so many people coming to the Hall without you, and that was essential, to say nothing of the £10,000 those idiots paid last night.’

  I was smiling despite myself as he went on.

  ‘That was very useful. Cards can be traced so it helps to have a bit of spending money. As for the way you got rid of the Inquisitor, superb! Of course he was both a blessing and a curse, because while he was a great help getting things going I couldn’t have him lurking about with his camera last night.’

  ‘Yes, but why get things going at all? Why the rituals? Why all the pretence? Why not just break in and pinch the paintings?’

  ‘For fun, partly, but mainly because I don’t intend to get caught. If I have a fault it’s that I tend to be a trifle theatrical, but think about the situation. When Vanessa and Henry get back all they’ll discover is that we’re gone. That’s why I needed the crowds, you see – to find an excuse to put the paintings into storage. It might be weeks before they notice anything’s gone, maybe months, and even longer before they realise exactly what’s missing, if they do at all. Then they’ll call the police in and start an investigation. We’ll be suspects, but not the only ones ...’

  ‘But surely they’ll realise it was us?’

  ‘Not at all. I left a note for Vanessa, explaining that you couldn’t cope with what was being done to you sexually and that we’d decided to leave without any fuss. That will make sense to her, and it will certainly make sense to the police. With luck it might even make her think twice about calling the police in at all. Then there are the 27 people who were at the ritual, most of who
m are pretty keen to keep their identities secret. Remember that they include academics, wealthy eccentrics, even Satanists, which is sure to keep the police busy. There’s nothing they like better than to pin the suspicion on an oddball, after all. They’ll have Darius too, who’s sure to bring out the worst in them. I feel a bit bad about that, actually. I like Darius, but I’m sure he’ll cope, for all that he ran away with the rest of them when the dog turned up. Or the thief might have been a visitor, or a burglar. So yes, all in all, I’d say we have a better than 50 per cent chance of getting away scot free.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Who knows? Maybe my client will have another commission for me, or perhaps a break would be a good idea, holed up somewhere quiet for a while to watch the net and see if the Aylshams even realise they’ve been robbed. After that ...’

  He broke off with a shrug. I didn’t answer, still staring out across the sea. It was impossible to stifle my resentment for the way he’d treated me, which was cavalier to say the least, but I couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t simply left me at Candle Street Hall. For all the lies and deceit one thing seemed evident: that his feelings for me were genuine.

  ‘I suppose I should be grateful you brought me with you?’

  He looked surprised. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t leave you behind, Chloe. You’re part of the loot.’

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