Chapter 1

Steve woke late and alone, the soft light from the lamp on the side table the only illumination in the room. For a moment he lay confused, trying to piece together the memories from the previous night.

Good grief, he thought. Did all that really happen?

The strange, sexually charged ritual at which John and Susanna were welcomed into the coven. The revelations about their relationships. The astounding fact that, not only did the members of the coven truly possess magical power, but that somehow, he did as well. The truth about his adoption, and the incredible fact that he would be coming into a large amount of insurance money once he proved his identity.

And lastly, and most wonderfully, the night of beautiful lovemaking he had shared with Eleanor.

She was something entirely beyond his experience. Gentle even when she was at her most passionate. Innocent and depraved. Pure and wanton. Not one or the other. But both. Somehow she managed to hold to the poles of her paradoxical nature, and in so doing, enriched both.

Which made it bitterly disappointing that she was not there when he woke up.

He pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and wandered upstairs. Susanna was sitting at the kitchen table, chatting happily with her cousin Hilda, when he entered. She turned to him with a smile.

“Steve! You’re finally awake!”

Steve smiled back. It was almost impossible to be in a bad mood when Susanna was around. Her blithe good humor was infectious.

“Master of the obvious you are,” he said, pulling juice and a bagel out of the fridge. “Good morning, Hilda. Did you spend the night?”

Hilda nodded. “I kept waiting for you to realize you had made a mistake and kick my cousin out of bed and come up for a real woman,” she said, arching her back to emphasize her magnificent chest. “But she must have tied you up or drugged you or something. Susanna and I had to entertain ourselves,” she continued, slanting a wicked glance at her cousin.

“Hilda!” Susanna exclaimed, fair skin blushing. “We did no such thing,” she said to Steve. “Well, we did,” she corrected, as Hilda cocked an eyebrow at her. “But not that way. Hilda and Mom and Aunt Sybil and I watched movies and played Monopoly,” she said virtuously. “And you shouldn’t say that Steve made a mistake, either,” she scolded. “I could tell that they made each other happy. Eleanor had a big smile when she left,” she informed him. She leaned close and sniffed. “How many times did you fuck?” she asked curiously. “Two? No. Three. And you made her cum four times. That’s awesome,” she giggled.

Steve turned to Hilda, his jaw flopping uselessly.

“Don’t ask me how she does it,” she shrugged, breasts bouncing distractingly. “Must be some crazy holdover from our hunting-God ancestor. But she can tell the most amazing things about you just by sniffing your skin.”

“Is Eleanor gone, then?” he asked, deciding not to pursue the subject.

Hilda nodded. “Went over to her place with Johnny an hour or so ago. If I know those two they’ll be shacked up all day. Dirty little perverts. She’s probably riding his cock right now,” she said as Susanna gasped in outrage, gazing steadily at him.

Steve looked back. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was grateful to the hateful Calvin Grant, whose verbal abuses had been harsher by orders of magnitude than anything Hilda could dream up.

“You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak of Eleanor to me, Hilda Chamberlain,” he said, voice cool but calm. “And how she plans to spend her day is her business, not mine. We haven’t married or mated. So if you’re intending to get a rise out of me by telling me she is in bed with John, you’ll have to do a better job than that.”

An admiring grin broke over Hilda’s lovely face. From the other side Susanna squealed and gave John a hug.

“Thank goodness,” Hilda said. “We were so damn worried you’d be one of those jealous types. Ellie was pretty sure you wouldn’t be, and so was Aggie. They’ve got a good nose for sniffing out bullshit. But no one was certain. So Ellie told me to be as mean as I could.

“She wanted to stay, honey. But she was called by the Goddess.”

“Called by the Goddess,” Steve echoed numbly.

Hilda nodded. “I can’t be sure, not knowing what happened in my cousin’s pretty little head, but it sounds to me like the Goddess decided that she didn’t want to take the chance of you and Ellie becoming too attached to each other. Has anyone talked to you about the dangers of getting involved with the Chamberlain women?”

Steve frowned. “Eleanor mentioned something about you guys being…single-minded at times.”

Hilda nodded. “Obsession might be a better way of putting it. Or flipping psycho, if you want to be blunt about it. It wasn’t a problem when it was just Johnny and the six of us. Well, five, really,” she corrected herself. “I don’t think Mom ever entirely approved of Johnny being our mate, and she just screwed him so the power would channel properly. When the years rolled past and she and Aunt Claire couldn’t find a man of power … anyway, when it was just us and Johnny, there wasn’t anything to worry about. We could watch each other and make sure no one got the upper hand.

“But then you came along. Craziest damn thing. We’d been looking for a man of power for years and you practically fall into our lap. So the Goddess is making sure you don’t get too attached to any of us right away. Or us to you. Because if you do, we still have the same problem we did before. John and Susie are leaving for college in a couple of months. If you and Ellie were to mate exclusively, that would leave me and Aggie and hell, maybe Mom and Aunt Claire, too, all alone and gradually going bugshit crazy.

“So the Goddess called Ellie away before you woke up.” Her face softened. “She wanted to stay, Steve. She really did. She cares for you a lot. But she did it for all of us.”

Steve nodded. He didn’t like it, but it was just one more impossibility in a month full of them. “So where is everyone else?”

“Aunt Sybil had a yoga class to teach,” said Susie. “And Agatha went home. John gave her a very good time last night.”

“She was damn near walking bowlegged when she left,” Hilda said with a smirk.

“Aunt Claire is watching the store, and you know where John and Ellie are.

“So how about it, Steve? Who are you going to take to bed next? Me and Susie are both here. I can’t speak for her, but I am ready whenever you are. Hell, she might like to join us. Or watch. She’s a bit kinky that way.”

Susanna blushed softly, fair skin turning pink, but she didn’t deny Hilda’s accusation. She slanted a sexy look at him, her tongue darting out to touch her lips.

Steve groaned and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Hilda exclaimed.

“No, seriously,” he said. “I just got paid yesterday. For the first time ever I have some money in my pocket. And I’ve got to buy some things. I can’t go on forever sponging off of your Mom,” he said to Susanna. “You guys are renting me a cheap basement, you pay for my food. Hell, you bought me a new bed. Yes, I know,” he said, cutting Hilda off. “You bought it because you wanted a comfortable place to make love. And I appreciate it. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that you bought me a bed.

“I need things. Toiletries. Clothes. An alarm clock. Some miscellaneous things. So I am going to go shopping today. I need to do laundry, too.”

“And how were you planning on getting to the store?” Susie asked, eyes dancing.

“Well, I was thinking about borrowing John’s bike…”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said. “You’ll kill yourself, trying to ride the bike back from the store carrying all that stuff.

“Stick a load of laundry in the washer. That way you can get a start on it. Hilda and I will drive you to the store.” She frowned. “Probably one of the big cheap stores for the simple things, and the mall for clothes. Wal-Mart?” she asked him.

Steve shuddered. “Heck no. That place will suck the soul right out of your body. Target or CostCo will be good enough for me.”

“Well, get going,” said Hilda impatiently. “The sooner you’re done the sooner we can come back here.”

He ran downstairs and quickly sorted his laundry, having grown accustomed to doing his own washing years ago. He hauled it upstairs and started a cycle in the washer near the stairwell. Susanna and Hilda were waiting by the front door.

“One second,” he said. He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket, took out his wallet, and carefully counted out ten twenty-dollar bills. Writing Claire’s name on the front, he laid the envelope on the kitchen table where she would be sure to see it. Considering a moment, he weighed it down with the salt cellar to be sure the cool morning breeze didn’t blow it off the table.

He grinned at them. “I’m ready.”

“Isn’t he cute?” Susie said to Hilda. “Like a puppy who wants to go for a walk.”

xxxxx

Shopping with Hilda and Susanna was an experience. They both enjoyed it, but in different ways. Susanna seemed to take the entire trip as an excuse to see what she could tempt Steve into buying. After the third time he had to put his foot down.

“No, Susie,” he said, fishing an embroidered set of hand towels out of his cart while Hilda looked on, amused. “I don’t need this.”

He waved his checkbook in the air. “I’ve got about six hundred bucks. I’ve got a list of things I need. First I buy the necessities. Then I get the luxuries.”

Susanna pouted. “But it was such a good deal. Look how much money you’re saving,” she said, showing him the sale tag.

“It’s only saving money if I needed to buy it in the first place,” he said, dumping a six-pack of cotton socks into his cart. “Now, please, put them back.”

Susie walked dejectedly away.

“You hurt her feelings, you know,” Hilda said softly to him. “She’s only trying to help. It’s not easy being the youngest. John gets more attention because, well, he’s John. You know. The entire ‘sire of the next generation’ thing. The same thing is going to happen to you. Eleanor and I have jobs and stand on our own two feet. Mom and Aunt Claire have been independent ever since our grandmother died.

“But Susie and Agatha,” Hilda sighed. “They need to know they have value. We were very worried about Aggie for a while,” she said, “but she seems to be doing okay now. We should have seen her low self-esteem a lot earlier. Susie,” she said, watching her walk back to the cart, “is usually so cheerful you can’t tell if anything is wrong.

“So be careful with her, is what I’m saying. Or I break your neck.”

Steve looked at her, surprised.

“You’re a lot smarter than you let on, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “I am. We all are. Well, maybe not Aggie,” she allowed. “She doesn’t even try to hide that fact that she’s a genius. But it never hurts to let people think you’re an oversexed tramp, which I am,” she said, curling a finger around a strand of red hair and giggling mindlessly. Steve rolled his eyes.

“But it’s not all that I am,” she continued. “Granted, I like sex. I like sex a lot,” she said, voice low and smoky. “And I decided I would be happier at the gym helping people make their bodies better than I would be in a college classroom or an office. But we’re all smart. There is no way the coven would have survived for so many centuries if we hadn’t been bright enough to outsmart most people and wise enough to hide it.”

Susanna came back to them. Steve thought for a moment, then pulled a small flat box out of his pocket.

“Susie?” he asked. She looked up at him, bright eyes shadowed. “I’m sorry about earlier. I know you were just trying to help.”

“It’s okay,” she said, a small smile flitting across her face. “I should have been thinking. I know you don’t have much money yet.” Her face lit up. “Hey! Why don’t you let us get some things for you! I have Mom’s credit card…”

“Susie,” said Hilda warningly.

Steve shook his head, smiling. He gave Susanna a one-armed hug. “No. I appreciate the thought, but I need to pay my own way. I’ve got a job and I’m making decent money. I’m not going to ask you guys to do what I can do for myself.”

He held out the box. “I meant to give this to you last night. It’s a graduation present. Congratulations.”

Susanna squealed happily and opened the box. Inside was a silver chain, linked with flat disks stamped in a sunburst pattern. “It’s beautiful!” She put it on and held it up.

“It made me think of you, because your face is always shining and cheerful, like the sun,” Steve said awkwardly, looking at his shoes, blushing fiercely.

Seconds later he was wrapped in a hug. “What about necessities coming first?” Susie teased, her body warm and pliant against his.

“This was a necessity,” he said firmly.

She sniffled against his neck, then looked up at him, eyes hot. “Can we go home soon?” she whispered softly, body undulating gently against his. “I’m so horny for you right now, Steven. You can’t believe how wet I am. Down there,” she said, eyes looking up at him shyly, red lips swollen with desire. “And I can tell you want to fuck me. Fuck us.” Hidden by their bodies, her hand dropped down lightly to touch his erect cock. She sniffed. “And Hilda is even hornier than usual. I can smell her juice. And look at her nips. They’re all hard and poky inside her shirt.”

He shuddered and took a deep breath. Gently, he untangled himself and looked in the cart. “I just need to pick up some boxers and then we can go to the mall and shop for clothes.”

“Waste of time,” Hilda murmured, walking just a little bit closer than was necessary. “The only reason I want a man to wear underwear is so I can take it off.”

xxxxx

There was some sort of protest going on near one of the entrances to the mall. As they parked Hilda could see signs waving, and the indistinct mutter of chanting voices.

“What’s going on over there?” Steve asked.

She snorted mockingly. “It’s Saturday, so all the weirdos are out. The mall is one of the places they get themselves all riled up. If it isn’t Obamacare it’s abortion. Or gay marriage. Or prayer in school. Or guns.”

They went in by a different entrance, avoiding the shouting. Hilda quickly took charge and dragged Steve into a clothing store. Standing in the men’s section, she ran an eye critically over his body. “What are you, babe? Thirty-two waist, thirty-four inseam?”

Steve shook his head. “Thirty, thirty-four.”

Hilda frowned. “Too thin for as tall as you are. You’re not going to gain much weight, working on the road crew. But you’re eating better than you have in years, I bet. So you’re going to put on muscle. We’ll put you in a thirty-two and you can keep your belt tight until you fill out a bit.” She nodded firmly and started pulling clothes off the shelves.

“Hey!” Steve said. “Don’t I get a choice?”

“No, not really,” Hilda said absently. “The difference between me and Susie is that she’ll do what you tell her. I won’t.”

“You already got socks and boxers. That’s good. Good cheap clothes that you need but no one notices.” She dumped half-a-dozen t-shirts of varying colors into his cart. “How do you like those?”

“They’re okay,” he said slowly, “But the price…”

“You let me worry about that.” She sighed and pursed her lips. “What next?” She looked at Steve. “How are you set for jeans?”

“I have plenty,” he said. “They weren’t even on my list.”

“Dress jeans?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, no,” he said. “Just for work.”

“Men,” she sighed. “You might want to take someone out to eat sometime and look good doing it, you know. Eleanor. Susanna. Maybe even me or Aggie. Or Aunt Claire,” she said with a wicked grin. “Find out if the MILF is as good in the sack as her daughter is?”

She walked over to where the expensive dress jeans were displayed. “Try these on,” she said, pushing a couple of pairs into Steve’s arms. “And come out and show us how they fit. By the time you’re ready I’ll have some dress slacks for you. And some shirts.”

Steve walked away, muttering about bossy women.

xxxxx

In the end, she got him to buy two pairs of dress jeans and three pairs of dress slacks; one black, one dark gray, the last olive green. He won the battle over dress socks, convincing her he already had several pairs for doing his door-to-door work. He refused a new belt, but let Hilda and Susanna pick out four new button-down shirts for him in varying styles.

As the items were rung up Hilda watched his mouth grow tight, face closing off as the total mounted higher and higher. As the amount passed four hundred dollars he leaned in and said softly, “We’re going to have to put some of this back. I don’t have enough.”

She patted his hand gently. “I told you not to worry about it.”

“Damn it, Hilda,” he whispered harshly. “I’m not letting you buy all this for me. And I’m not bouncing a check the first week I have a checking account.”

She grinned at him, ignoring his worries. “Just watch, grasshopper.”

The cashier, a middle-aged lady with ‘Anna’ stitched on her blouse, looked at them expectantly. “The total is four sixty-seven eighty-two,” she said. “How would you like to pay for that?”

Hilda leaned in. “I see that you’re advertising a sale here next week, Anna,” she said with a charming smile. “Steve here works days and he doesn’t have a car. I don’t suppose there is any way you can give him the sale price today?”

The cashier nodded without even blinking. “Sure, honey,” she said, and punched in a code. “That takes forty percent off the slacks and the shirts, and thirty off the tees. You’re down to two seventy-six forty-two.”

“And if Steve here applies for a store credit card, your flier says he can save fifteen percent more?” She tapped the counter.

“Yep,” Anna said, smiling at Hilda’s cleverness. Steve rapidly filled out the paperwork, and the total reset again. “Two thirty-four ninety-six.”

“Those jeans are awfully expensive,” Hilda haggled. “We’d hate to put them back, but…”

Anna sighed. “One minute.” She conferred with her manager and came back. “I can let you have them for sixty dollars each,” she said. “But only if you promise to go away.” She smiled, taking the sting out of the remark. “If you stay here much longer everyone else is going to wise up and start using the same tricks.”

Hilda grinned. “Deal.”

“One ninety-one oh-five.”

Dazed, Steve signed for the total on his as-yet-nonexistent credit card as Anna bagged his clothes.

As they walked out of the store and into the concourse Steve said, “I don’t believe it. You got dang near five hundred bucks worth of clothes for less than two hundred. And I didn’t have to write a check. How did you do it? Was it…?”

“No, it wasn’t magic,” Hilda said, offended. Behind her Susanna murmured agreement. “It’s all a game, Steve. When it comes to clothes, the price on the tag is just the starting point, just like a car or a house. They advertised the sale themselves on the door. And the credit card deal was available to everyone. All I did was take advantage of the loopholes.”

Later, as they ate lunch in the food court, Hilda gave Steve more advice.

“Don’t forget to pay off the balance on that credit card as soon as you get the statement. The interest on those things will eat you alive. In fact, it might not be a terrible idea to cancel the card and cut it up as soon as you pay it off, unless you are planning on coming back here soon. A standard credit card, which you’ll need eventually, has a lower rate. I just encouraged you to get that one so you could get the discount.”

She wiped cinnamon frosting off her mouth. “Ready to go home?”

xxxxx

They ran into the protesters on their way out of the mall.

There were about thirty or forty of them, waving brightly colored placards, stenciled with cheerful catchphrases like “Faggots Die, God Laughs” and “No Heaven For Sodomites”. Most people were giving them a wide berth. Some were jeering at them from behind a wall of city policemen, who looked like they would rather be anywhere else in the world at the moment.

“Crap,” Steve said. “I forgot they were out here.” They hurried their steps, eager to get back to Hilda’s car.

“STEVEN JOHNSON!”

Steve spun, his eyes widening in horrified recognition. Calvin Grant was bearing down on him, black suit jacket fluttering behind him like the wings of a rabid bat.

His voice was soft, hiding his words from the other protesters, who were watching curiously. “You little bastard,” he spat viciously. “What the hell did you think you were doing, leaving us like that? Weeks with no word while we worried ourselves sick about you.” A patronizing smile crossed his vulpine features and he held out a hand. “But I forgive you, Steven. Come back home with us. Rachel misses you.” Steve looked into the crowd, and could just see her pale, timid face peeking around a stranger’s back. “We’ll talk for a bit and I am sure you’ll see the error of your ways. A little fasting, a little chastisement and everything will be just fi-”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grant, but I’m afraid you’re violating a restraining order,” Steve said loudly. He opened his wallet and pulled out his copy of the paperwork and held it up. From the corner of her eye Hilda could see one of the police officers take notice and start to walk slowly toward him, speaking into his radio.

“A restraining order? Do you think that a man of God can be held by the word of a man?” Grant sneered. A wild, feral look was in his eyes. He whirled in place, the hate in his face so strong that Hilda fell back a step. “And here’s the whore who tempted you away! Look at her!” he shouted, finger stabbing in ecstatic condemnation. “See what happens when the Word is denied. The Harlot walks among us, flaunting her earthly beauty, hiding the corruption beneath!! Whore! Slut! Cunt! You will pay! You will burn! You will ALL BURN!!!”

“Excuse me,” a voice said softly.

Grant fixed his fiery eyes on Susanna. “What do you want, Jezebel? Are you willing to be saved?”

Susanna thought for a moment. “No, not really,” she said, ignoring Grant’s furious sputters. “But I was curious about your sign.” She read it out loud.

“God Hates Homo’s.” She looked at Grant, visibly confused. “Hates homo’s what?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know, do you? I didn’t think anyone could be so stupid, but you are. The apostrophe,” she said, using tones one would save for a terribly small child, “is possessive. Which means when you use it like you are, you are saying that the ‘homo’ owns something. But that’s not what you meant, was it? You are so dumb,” she said contemptuously, “that you don’t even know the difference between possessive and plural. You can’t even get hatred and bigotry right.”

“Fuck you, slut,” Grant said conversationally, his eyes utterly mad. “You will burn, too. I look forward to seeing it.”

“Excuse me, sir,” came a voice from behind Grant. He whirled, furious, fist raised to strike.

The officer held his ground. “Young man,” he said, addressing Steve. “Did I hear you say you have a restraining order against this person?”

“Sir, I do,” said Steve, passing him the court order. The officer looked over it quickly, then turned to Grant.

“Reverend, you are in violation. I recommend you go back to your protest and let these young people go on their way.”

Grant paused, seething, the small kernel of rationality which remained in his mind turning his feet towards his congregation. Quickly, however, his path was blocked by a man and a woman in the uniforms of the Iowa State Police Department.

“Calvin Hiram Grant?” the woman asked.

“Yes?”

The second officer produced a pair of handcuffs. Before Grant could utter a word his wrists were shackled behind him. “Sir, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Steven Augustus Johnson from the Morning Glory Orphanage in Wheeling, West Virginia, on April twenty-fourth, two thousand eight. You are hereby also charged with transporting a minor across state lines; with false imprisonment; with assault on a minor; and with one hundred and forty-two counts of mail fraud.”

“What? Mail fraud? What?” In the distance he could see placards being dropped and his congregation melting away. Nearby, Steven was laughing so hard that tears were running down his face, and his whore was joining him, waving mockingly as the officers pushed him towards the squad car.

“You claimed he was your son on a lot of paperwork, Mr. Grant. The United States Postal Service doesn’t particularly like it when you use the mail to lie to the government., for things, like, I don’t know, income tax evasion. You have the right to remain silent…”

Grant twisted in the officer’s arms and glared at Hilda, Susanna, and Steve, his furious face a rictus of hate.

“I’ll get you. I’ll get all of you. You’ll pay. You’ll burn. You’ll all burnnn!!!”

As he was shoved, shrieking, into the squad car, the Dark One took Calvin Grant.

Chapter 2

“Can we go now?” whispered Susanna. Her face, Hilda thought, was dangerously pale.

“Susie!” she said, holding her up as she sagged. “What happened?”

“His smell,” she whispered, almost gagging on the stench in the air. “Goddess, I don’t know how you can stand it.” They guided her back to the car, Steve carrying the clothes, Hilda supporting her with her body.

“It was like …” she shuddered. “Remember what I told you, about the stink that was in the room when Momma drove the Dark One out of Johnny? The night we first crossed?”

Hilda nodded.

“This was worse. Like it was mixed with a person, too.

“Death. It smelled like blood and hate and death. The Dark One took him. The Dark One has taken Calvin Grant.”

“How can you be sure?” Hilda asked. She popped the doors. Steve quickly loaded his bags into the front seat, and helped Susanna into the back.

“I know, Hildy. The same way I know you had toast and apple juice for breakfast, even though you were done by the time I came downstairs. The same way I knew Steve and Ellie screwed three times last night, and the last time they did it doggie-style. The same way I know Momma got herself off twice last night; once with the shower head in the tub, and the other time with her fingers in bed.

“I know.”

Hilda exited the parking lot, face pensive. In the back seat Steve snuggled with Susie, trying to calm her shaking body. Gradually the shivers subsided and she clutched his hand gratefully. Hilda rolled down the windows, and Susanna took deep breaths of the muggy, humid air.

“Oh, Goddess, that is so much better. Who would have thought that Iowa could smell so good?”

“So what do we do?” Steve asked. His face was worried.

“Nothing,” Hilda said shortly.

“But …”

“But what? What can we do right now? Mom and Aunt Claire are working. Aggie is at home, and Ellie and John are probably in a nice post-fuck nap. Grant, or the Dark One, or whatever he is, is safely in police custody for the time being. And I don’t think that any of us are going to walk up to the Iowa State Police and tell them that they have an immortal being of darkness on their hands, and will they please kill him?”

Susie snickered weakly. “No, I can see how that might not be the best idea,” Steve said slowly.

“We’ll go home. When Mom is done with her classes and Aunt Claire is ready to close the store, we’ll call the coven to meet us at Susie’s place. We’ll avoid drawing attention to ourselves. And then we’ll decide what to do.”

The rest of the drive home passed quietly, each of them pondering the situation. As soon as Hilda pulled into the driveway Susanna practically sprinted into the house. Hilda followed, and when she saw her she was standing in the middle of the family room, eyes closed, taking slow, deep breaths.

She put her arms around her cousin. “That bad, huh?”

She shuddered, a bone-deep, wracking spasm that threatened to drive her to the ground. “Goddess, Hilda, you have no idea.” She took another breath. “You know how Steve and John make us feel, when they are just standing there, hot and sexy and full of power?”

Hilda smiled, voice dreamy with memory. “Oh, yes.”

“Reverse that. And pour the most rancid, disgusting odor that you can find all over it. Rotting food, roadkill, whatever. And that isn’t even half as bad as what I just went through.”

Hilda gave her a hug. “Are you going to be all right?”

She nodded. “Just give me a few minutes.”

Steve entered, the screen door banging shut behind him. “I’m going to put these away,” he said, hefting his laundry hamper, the rest of his new belongings tossed in haphazardly. He clattered downstairs, footsteps on the wooden risers echoing up behind him.

“I’m going to help him out,” Hilda said. She grabbed a pair of scissors and waved it at Susie. “We’ll need this for the clothing tags.” She kicked off her sandals and followed Steven downstairs.

xxxxx

She tiptoed, bare feet noiseless on the steps until she reached the basement door. Moving slowly, she opened it soundlessly, easing around the corner until she could see him, his sweet face turned away from her as he pulled his purchases out of the hamper; soap and shampoo and soft, fluffy bath towels.

She hid behind the sofa and stripped, warmth pooling at her center as she watched him.

Suddenly, she sprung, feet driving her across the carpet as she flung herself at his back. At the last second he turned and caught her in his arms, laughing as he turned her charge into a spin and then fell with her onto the bed, still rumpled and heavy with Eleanor’s musk.

He landed on top, her body delightfully firm beneath his, his body happily hard on top of hers. He took a breath to say something, anything, but she pulled his face down and kissed him, long and deep, groaning as he returned it avidly. He ground his hips against hers, and she whimpered at the feel of the soft cotton of his shorts on her sex.

He pulled away for a moment, eyes bright. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you, when I was out passing out pamphlets and you went past me in your jogging outfit,” he said.

“Really,” she said, eyes dancing. “I would have figured you would have wanted to clamp on to one of these,” she continued, hands lifting her tits high toward his face. “It’s what most men look at first.”

He shook his head mock-seriously. “No. You can’t just go up to a woman and start sucking on her breasts,” he explained as she giggled. “You have to work your way up to that.”

“Oh?” Hilda asked, thumbing her fat nipples happily as they crinkled erect. “And how would you know? Have you ever tried?”

“Well, now that you mention it,” he said, captivated by her magnificent orbs. “I haven’t.”

“Try,” she breathed, hips slowly rocking, yearning towards him. “Try now.”

His elbows braced at her sides, he bent his head to her breast, hot breath teasing her nipple. She closed her eyes, shivering in anticipation of his touch.

There! The slightest whisper of sensation, as the very tip of his tongue grazed the pebbled flesh of her aureola. And again, on the other side, and again, this time with his tender lips closed, dragging his mouth around the heavy curves of her globes. And now his cheeks, so soft, nuzzling her skin like a cat seeking comfort.

She writhed beneath him, her mind fading, intellect giving way to the beauty of pure sensation. Her legs sagged open, moisture gathering on her labia as her body prepared itself for the most pleasant of invasions. She cupped a breast in her hand, mimicking his movements, duplicating his touch, and as his mouth came down on one nipple, suckling hard, eager lips and tongue pulling at her turgid flesh like a babe coaxing milk from his mother, she pinched the other in her fingers, pulling it away from her, stretching it, reveling in the sweet boil of lust.

She threw her head back and clenched her teeth shut on a scream of passion and now his hand was at her gate, the heel of his palm pressing firmly down on the rise of her mons, his fingers gently coating themselves with her nectar and he was still kissing her breast, lips gentle on the underside of her tit.

“Oh, Goddess, finally. I’ve finally got myself a genuine tit-man, don’t I?” she moaned.

He pulled his lips away, startled. “What?”

“Get back down there, boy,” she growled, and he bent his head down obligingly, head busy on her mammaries, and now oh Goddess, yes now a long finger was forcing itself oh so slowly into the hot, pulsing depths of her canal.

“Some men,” she breathed unevenly, trying to keep the words in the right order as she basked in his attention like a lioness in the sun. “Some men say they are tit-men. But after a few minutes they want to get their rocks off. That’s okay. I understand. Johnny,” she said, eyes unfocusing as his thumb traced circles on the gleaming surface of her clit, “is better than most. But you, Steve. You actually love my titties, don’t you?” Her back arched, forcing her mounds even higher, nipples challenging the sky.

“Yes, I do,” he said, then covered her right nipple with his mouth once more, braced on one elbow, his hand stroking her fire-red hair as the other gently pumped the beautiful mouth of her sex. She lifted her hips gently, matching his rhythm, the muscles of her inner thighs beginning to shake as her arousal increased.

Her eyes closed again but her mouth opened in a weak grin. “That’s lovely, Steve. Just lovely. Why the hell couldn’t you have two mouths?”

At that moment, Susanna’s lips closed on her left breast.

Hilda’s eyes flew open in shock. Susanna was completely nude, her only adornment Steve’s bracelet, which she wore around one wrist. Her eyes were wicked and naughty as she looked Hilda in the eye, mouth full of her succulent tit-flesh, tongue lapping at her nipple like a kitten at a milk-bowl.

“Mmmpphh!” groaned Hilda, and Steve could feel the muscles of her pussy spasming around his fingers. “God, Susie, I knew you were pervy, and I made a lot of jokes about it, but I never expected this,” she moaned, moisture pooling at the junction of her thighs, coating Steve’s fingers with her juice.

“Did you really think that you two could fuck down here and I wouldn’t know?” Susanna asked cheerfully. “I could smell you as soon as you took your shorts off, you nasty little tramp.” Below the golden star of her pubic hair, she could feel the petals of her sex, smaller than Hilda’s, gently unfurling.

“The only problem is,” she continued, one hand reaching over to stroke Steve’s cock, “is that we’ve got one dick and two pussies.” She gave Hilda’s nip a delicate nibble, small sharp teeth gleaming in the light. “So someone is going to have to eat someone else. And Hilda, since you are already lying down…”

Susanna suited actions to words, climbing onto the bed and straddling Hilda’s head with her legs. She leaned in to kiss Steve as he looked on, completely thunderstruck.

Hilda smiled and said, “Serves me right for making so many jokes about it. Okay, Susie. Get your beautiful pussy down here, and we’ll see who is better at eating you out; me or your brother.”

Susanna slowly lowered herself while Hilda’s hands eagerly roamed the curves of her ass and thighs, Steve’s hands a steady, loving presence on her tits. Susie gasped as Hilda drew her down to her mouth, trembling as her cousin’s tongue lapped eagerly at her soaking slit.

She leaned forward, arms extended, and Steve gathered her into an embrace, her pink nipples hard as bullets as, for the first time, she felt the touch of another woman on her most delicate parts. She raised her head and kissed him passionately, moaning into his mouth, hungry for his touch.

Hilda’s tongue was diving deep within her, now licking, now stroking, now plunging in like a set of fingers or a hot, flexible dick. She writhed, legs shaking, chest red and heaving, surrendering everything to the exquisite feelings inside her. And Steve! He was kissing her, lips soft on her neck, her ear, her cheek, as his strong, careful hands gathered her breasts. He lifted them up, then bent his head down to suckle at them gently, trading kisses between the two, making sure each got the attention they deserved.

Hilda moved her head away from Susanna for a moment. “Hey guys, not that I am complaining, but someone better pay some attention to my tits or my pussy, or I’m leaving!”

“Like hell you are,” Susie scoffed, but she let her hands fall to Hilda’s chest, rolling and kneading her breasts, fingers dancing over her nipples. At the same time Steve moved between Hilda’s legs and let his long hard cock drop onto Hilda’s cleft, his hands busy on her legs.

Hilda’s reaction stunned him. With her mouth still lapping at Susanna’s love-canal, she gave a muffled shout of joy. Her legs came up, the insides of her knees resting on Steve’s shocked shoulders, as she furiously sought to draw his throbbing member into her.

“Fuck me, Steve. Fuck me! If you’re a tit-man, then I’m a cock-woman. I want your long hard dick inside me. Fuck me!” she begged.

Steve needed no encouragement. Driven to distraction by the hot sexy women in bed with him, he aimed his cock at Hilda’s sheath and entered her in a hard swift thrust. He could see her head jerk as he bottomed out inside her, the brown hair of his groin nestled lovingly against her slick, puffy folds.

He looked up into Susanna’s eyes. She was staring at their joining as if mesmerized.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, one hand cupping her breast, fingers flicking her nipple lustily. “I never thought it could be so beautiful.” She gazed into his eyes. “I saw Momma and Johnny, the first night. But I was behind them. I couldn’t see much. And then I was eating Momma and giving Johnny head,” she said, voice spiraling upward.

“Oh Hilda. Just a little more. Move your tongue up. Up. Urrghhh. Yes, that’s it.

“But this. Goddess, you have no idea how beautiful you two are together. Fuck her. Fuck my cousin.”

“Yes, fuck me, dammit!” came Hilda’s voice from below.

Steve began pumping into Hilda. Susanna watched, and then with a groan, kissed Steve so hard that their chins knocked together, tongue and teeth and lips merging into a single saliva-soaked presence. Under them, Hilda’s hips bucked like a horny metronome, counting out the beat of their passion.

Susanna broke first. Driven wild by the urgings of Hilda’s tongue, the hot, feverish kisses of Steven, and by the spur of seeing her sexy cousin and her friend fucking, she suddenly collapsed onto Hilda’s face. Ignoring Hilda’s stifled protest, she shook her hips back in forth as her orgasm ripped through her.

Steve had to lift her up, and Hilda emerged, wild-eyed and red-faced.

“Damn it, Susie, you nearly…ugh…nearly…ohhhh…suffocated me,” she said, as Steve’s cock renewed its assault on her sex. “When we’re done I’m gonna give you such a slap.”

Smiling, Susanna ignored her and sank limply to her side, head resting on Hilda’s chest, softly kissing her breasts.

“Hilda, I’m getting close,” whispered Steve.

“Yes, lover. Give it to me. Give me your cum. Give me your sperm. Fuck a baby into me!”

Her unbridled lewdness made Steve mindless with lust. He closed his eyes, hammering his cock into Hilda’s waiting hole, feeling his seed rushing up his cock until it burst into her womb in a series of mighty spasms. He fell across her, kissing her hard, tongue driving into her waiting, lusty mouth, arms entwining about each other as their climax shook them.

Eventually, they forced themselves out of bed and upstairs. Hilda wanted to leave her clothes in the basement, but Susanna convinced her otherwise. “Hildy, Momma said I had to wear clothes around the house. So do you. Your titties are awesome, but we can’t have you showing them where someone can see.” Hilda muttered vague threats about the unfairness of the world and started dialing the other members of the coven.

“Ellie? This is Hilda. Is Johnny with you? Good. Listen. We have a Level One emergency. Repeat. A Level One emergency. Get your bug-out bag and meet us at your mom’s place.” She hung up the phone and hit the speed-dial for her mother. Steve looked at Susanna.

“A Level One emergency?”

Susanna smiled sadly. “Like the Boy Scouts, we have to be prepared. A Level One means our lives are in danger. The Dark One. A mob. Torches and pitchforks. Stakes. That sort of thing.

“If that happens we’re supposed to grab our emergency bag and meet at a rendezvous point. Which is here.”

“What does the emergency bag have in it?”

“Everything we need for a month, and longer if we need it,” said Hilda, who had finished her calls. “Clothes. Cash. Passport. ID. Back-up credit cards and bank account numbers. And the addresses of safe-houses in the US, UK, and New Zealand.”

“Damn,” said Steve, impressed.

John and Eleanor were the first to arrive, grim-faced and cranky. “This better not be a drill, Hildy,” complained Eleanor. “We were just about to go out to eat. What’s going on?”

“We’re not going to explain it four times, Ellie,” said Hilda. “Wait until our moms and Aggie get here.”

Eleanor looked about ready to give an angry response, then took a long look at their faces. “Shit,” she said. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious,” said Susanna. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge,” she continued, waving a hand at the kitchen. “Make yourself a snack if you want.”

John looked set to argue, but shut up once he saw his twin’s expression. He sighed and sat on the couch, turning the TV to the evening news. A bouncy-bosomed forecaster appeared on the screen, wearing the frowny face that signified a plane crash or a rainy weekend.

Hilda stole the remote out of John’s hand. “Why are you watching that bimbo? If you want to know what the weather’s going to do, turn it to ‘RNL.”

“He was watching it because of the weather-lady’s boobs,” teased Susanna.

“I was not,” said John. “I can see better breasts over here. Three sets, in fact, and it’ll be six once Aggie and Mom and Aunt Sybil get here. Besides, you just want to watch ‘RNL because you want to hump the weatherman.”

“No, I don’t,” Hilda said, then paused. “At least, not right now.”

The girls squealed as the news came back from commercial. A small, good-looking man appeared on the screen and started to talk about the forecast.

Eleanor hurried in from the kitchen to watch. “Has he mentioned the Snow Maid yet?”

“What?” asked Steve.

“Oh, it’s such a sweet story,” said Ellie. “Bill Carter,” she said, nodding at the weatherman on the big-screen, “was on a research mission, somewhere way up in Russia. But his helicopter crashed and almost everyone on board was killed. The ones who survived tried to get back to a town, but they didn’t have hardly any food and they were dying of cold and exposure. So Bill walked out of the tent early one morning in the middle of a snowstorm so his friends could live.

“They found some food and shelter and were rescued a few days later. But they couldn’t find Bill. Or his body. Everyone assumed he was dead.

“Then he showed up six months later, with a gorgeous Russian woman. She had found him when he collapsed and nursed him back to health, and they fell in love and got married and moved back to America.”

“So romantic,” Susanna sighed, eyes gleaming. At her side, John made barfing noises until she hit him.

“They have the most beautiful little girl,” put in Hilda. “I saw them when the station was sponsoring a charity five-k last fall. She looks just like her mama. Long blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“So when there is going to be bad weather, especially in winter, he talks about what the Snow Maid told him the weather is going to be like. It’s cute,” finished Ellie.

As she finished, they heard the front door open. Claire entered the room, trailed by Agatha and Sybil, carrying travel bags.

“Okay, kids,” she said, taking in Susanna, Hilda, and Steve with her glance. “Let’s hear it.”

Chapter 3

They told their story, Hilda mainly, with contributions from the other two. By the time they were done Claire’s lips were parted happily and a bloodthirsty gleam had entered her eyes.

“At last,” she breathed. “The Goddess has seen fit to set the enemy in our hand. We know whose body he inhabits. We know where that body is located. The body has even made threats against members of our household and has a history of violence.

“All we have to do is get him here, kill the vessel, and send his black soul into the void.”

Unaware of the nervous glances of the children, she went into the chapel. When she emerged she had a mass of leather straps in one hand and a large wooden box in the other.

“Put these on,” she said, handing items to each member of the coven. They proved to be leather belts with sheaths on the side, perfect for holding…

“Knives?” Agatha asked.

“Yes,” Claire said, opening the box. “After John and Susanna had their little adventure earlier in the month, I commissioned more, based on Grannie Mabel’s design. I want you to keep them on whenever possible. Iowa has fairly loose knife laws, so I think you should be okay as far as the police are concerned.”

She handed each of them a long knife, double-edged, with a curious silvery sheen on the blade. The hafts were wrapped in back calfskin, and the pommels were etched with the pentagram of the coven.

“If we can’t lure him here, he may be clever enough to attack us at work or in the street. If he does this will be enough to slow him down. Kill him if you possibly can. We’ve been waiting for this opportunity for decades.

“But it has to be quick. You have to put him down and put him down hard. If you give him a chance he will be able to pull free of Grant and the Goddess alone knows how long it will be until we have a chance like this again.

“I’m going to go to the county lock-up. I’ll pose as a confused woman who doesn’t understand why Reverend Grant has made these terrible threats against my children and boarder. I’ll ask them to call us if he makes bail or escapes. That gives us another layer of cover. If they’re dumb enough to let me, I’ll ask to see him so I can goad him into attacking us once he gets loose.” Agatha drew a breath in protest. Claire cocked an eyebrow at her. “He’s an immortal being of hate, Aggie. If he wants to get loose, he will.

“Johnny, there’s a bunch of five-gallon buckets in the utility room in the basement. Get them up here and into the reservoir in the back yard. You know what to do.”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Once you’re done with that, indulge in a little recreational screwing, if you feel like it. The more positive energy we have coming from this part of town the more likely he is to attack us.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

“I do. Mother,” said Eleanor, voice serious. “Tell me how what you’re suggesting isn’t murder.”

Steve nodded. Claire’s brutal practicality disturbed him. He had no love for Calvin Grant, who had made his life a misery for years. But to cold-bloodedly plan his entrapment and death was something he had never thought to be a part of.

“It’s not a murder. It’s an execution.”

“Calvin …” Steve protested.

“Calvin Grant is gone, Steve,” said Sybil. “We have documentation on the Dark One going back decades. Centuries. He has probably been influencing Grant for weeks, for him to have taken over his body so quickly this afternoon. People who have had that happen to them never recover. The best thing that could happen to Grant would be a quick death.

“If he can’t or won’t leave custody, he’ll drive Grant to more and more terrible crimes, even in prison, until he is killed or committed to a hospital for the criminally insane. Or he’ll rip himself free and destroy Grant’s mind in the process.

“Either way, Calvin Grant is doomed. He can only hope his god will have mercy on his soul.”

Steve set his jaw. “All right, then. I’m coming with you,” he said to Claire.

Claire took a breath. “It is my right,” he said, overriding her protest. “It was my presence at the mall that drove him over the edge today. If I had not gone there, the Dark One may have chosen another victim.

“And if we have to draw him out, who better to do it than the two of us? A man and woman; the woman whose coven he wishes to destroy, and the boy who his vessel could not break; both capable of creating life, there to taunt him.”

Sybil raised her eyebrows. “I misjudged this boy, Sis. He may look like an attractive hunk of meat, but he has the soul of a poet.”

“You misjudged this man, Mom,” said Hilda, holding Steve’s hand tight as he blushed.

Sybil looked at her older daughter, eyebrows raised. She gave an approving nod. “Well. It took you long enough.”

xxxxx

“Claire, can ask you a question?” Steve asked, as they drove slowly through the late-evening dusk. He had changed into slacks and one of his new shirts for the trip to the jail.

John and Hilda had both wanted to go with them, but Claire and Sybil had shot down the requests, pointing out that they were the two physically strongest members of the coven, and that they would be needed if the Dark One somehow escaped before Claire had a chance to see him. When they left, John, Eleanor, and Hilda were hauling heavy buckets up from the basement and pouring the contents into a holding tank in the back yard, the purpose of which escaped him.

“Sure, honey.”

“You…we have power. We were able to light candles with our minds last night. Can we do other things? Physical things?”

Claire looked at him, face grave. “Things like stopping a man’s heart from a few feet away, you mean. Calvin Grant’s, for example.”

Steve looked at her, eyes steady. “Yes.”

“Of course we can. But we won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would destroy who we are. Our power was given to us. But it can be taken away just as easily. If we ever use it for the destruction of life, it will be gone. Ashes and dust and no bright spark of passion and love to make up for the loss.

“If we kill him. No. When we kill him, it must be done with our own hands.”

“Fairly,” Steve nodded.

Claire turned to him, face aghast. “Fair? Who said anything about fair? We’re not going to fight fair with that bastard. We’re going to hit him with every dirty trick in the book. And when he is gone I will dance on his grave.”

xxxxx

“Grant! On your feet! You got a visitor.”

The tall, gaunt shape did not move from his spot. Instead, a heavily muscled man, greasy hair in a rat-tail and amply decorated with biker tattoos, sidled along the edge of the cell, keeping a nervous eye on Grant.

“Sergeant, can I talk to you?”

“Suppertime is in an hour, Kowalski. You should know the routine in here well enough by now. What was it this time? Assault?”

“That punk disrespected my ride,” Kowalski snarled. “He’s lucky I didn’t…” He stopped and shook his head, looking at the officer pleadingly.

“Listen, sarge,” the biker said, his tattoos gleaming with nervous sweat. “You’re a decent sort. You’ve always been straight with me. I’m gonna be straight with you. You’ve got to get that guy out of here.” He jerked his head towards Grant.

“Or what, Kowalski?” the officer said, bored.

“Or someone’s going to die,” Kowalski said. “That guy’s crazy. Serious crazy. Look at him. Look at them.”

Grant was hunched on the bench, all alone. He raised his head, giggling softly as his mad eyes danced. The other men in the cell were as far away from him as the cramped space allowed.

“A man who’s bad enough to make bad men scared is a bad, bad man,” said Kowalski. “Sarge, if you’re smart, you’ll get that nutcase into isolation. There’s something wrong with him.”

Doyle paused. Kowalski was a stupid, violent thug, but he had been in and out of prison enough to know who was harmless, who could be dealt with, and who was truly dangerous.

He grimaced. “I can’t do anything about it now, Kowalski. He has a visitor and prisoners have rights. But I’ll pass your concerns along.” He raised his voice again. “Grant! Either get up and get over here, or tell me that you don’t want to see your visitor.”

Grant rose to his feet, unfolding like a scaffold. His gentle smile was enough to make Doyle flinch as he passed his hands through the bars to be cuffed.

“Of course,” he said serenely. “Am I not a man of God?”

xxxxx

The Dark One slouched in his chair as Claire and Steve entered the room. They were separated from him by a thick sheet of plexiglass, but a microphone caught his words and a speaker relayed them, dark with hate.

“Well, well,” he sneered. “Look who’s here. The matriarch of the Chamberlain Coven, and the last scion of the Anderson Coven.”

Steve caught his breath in shock. Beside him, Claire grasped his hand.

Claire had played her hand well enough as they entered the jail, Steve thought. She had used her ‘confused housewife’ persona so well he had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing out loud as she extracted a promise that if Grant made bail or escaped they would be warned by the police.

But Grant’s appearance revolted him. He had only glimpsed the transformation earlier in the day as the Dark One took over his body. But now, no one who had known him previously could ever confuse Calvin Grant with what sat in front of him now.

It’s like the world’s worst Tootsie Roll Pop, he thought, trying to keep his stomach from heaving. But what’s inside the shell is a hell of a lot worse than candy.

The Dark One leaned forward, his breath fogging the barrier between them. “You didn’t know, did you, boy? By the Master’s name, that is funny. For me to kill your parents, and for you to be brought all the way here, so I can kill you just when you thought you were safe.

“Your parents,” he mused, “That was a job well done. I got a commendation for that one. Call it a two-fer. Your oh-so-saintly father was about to go to the EPA. Had all the proof he needed of illegal dumping of chemical residue from the processing plant. Your bitch-priestess of a mother egged him on, of course.

“Didn’t take much to burrow into the head of one of the mine foremen. Rammed them right off the road and into the ravine. They burned beautifully. And then I came back out and watched the sorry sack of shit kill himself with a bottle of pills. A thriving little dose of pollution and three lives destroyed in a couple of minutes. Four, if I count yours.”

“One,” said Steve flatly. Claire looked at him, surprised by the power in his voice.

“You killed my parents. You didn’t destroy them. They live on in me. Every loving hour they spent with me, every embrace, every kind word. It’s all still here. Even if I should die by your hand tomorrow, their memory lives on in every life they touched.

“You, on the other hand? You are going to end. Very soon.” Claire clutched his hand in warning. He started, then nodded understanding.

Can’t let him think we have a plan to kill him. Make him believe we are going to run.

“What are you going to do, little boy? Swear to kill me? Do you know how many have sworn that over the years, and died, screaming?”

“Swear to kill you? Why should I do that? I am going to do something far worse, for a creature like you.

“You know what I’m going to do?” Steve asked, voice sweet with honeyed malice. “I’m going to plant a tree. A tree for every year of my parents’ lives that you stole. And children will play in those trees. And birds will nest in them. And they will give birth to other trees in the years to come. And they will breathe out clean air for generations yet unborn. That is my revenge on you, you obscenity. Not death. Life.”

Grant’s waxy face paled. “You wouldn’t.”

“I will.”

Claire’s heart sang within her. She smiled sweetly at the being who had seized Grant’s body.

“Isn’t he wonderful? I’m going to fuck him when we get home tonight. Maybe have a little orgy. I might include my son and daughter as well. You remember them, don’t you? The two who you tried to suborn? And failed so miserably?

“I don’t think you are going to get a commendation for this job, Dark One. Sure, you can spread murder and mayhem through the prison, until Grant’s poor body gives out on you. Or you can pull yourself out of his mind and look for another host. But either way, by the time you’re out we’ll be long gone. We’ll be on the road by tomorrow afternoon. How long did it take you to find us after Sybil and I moved away from Boulder? Nearly thirty years? And that was just a few hundred miles. Imagine. We have a whole country to choose from, a whole world, and you’re going to either rot in here or have to start the whole futile search all over again. Or maybe you can go back to your dark master and finally admit defeat.

“Kill us? Kill Steve? Hah. You won’t even be able to find us.

“And while you’re searching, if you’re brave enough to do it, you gutless coward, I’ve got two wonderful, powerful, virile men. And four lovely daughters and nieces. If we play our cards right, we can pump out three or four children a year.

“Can you picture it, you monstrosity? If you find us, say, twenty years from now, there could be twenty or thirty Chamberlain Witches waiting for you. If you are unlucky enough to find us, they will put you down like the mad dog you are.”

Halfway through Claire’s speech the Dark One began screaming; howling, foam-filled curses that had nothing human in them, clawing at the partition that separated them. As she finished, three prison guards came in and wrestled his thrashing, biting body out of the room.

xxxxx

Groaning with effort, John tipped the last bucket of water into the reservoir in the backyard, then hooked up the hose to the pump. He gave the sign to Eleanor, watching from inside.

Immediately, water spurted from multiple locations around the perimeter of the house, surging high before falling gently back to the ground. John made urgent hand-signals, and the flow quickly stopped.

“Impressive,” noted Sybil from his side, “But do you think it’s really going to work?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he said shortly, stacking the buckets and carrying them inside. Sybil followed more slowly. “Legend says that evil things don’t like to cross flowing water. And we have multiple cases where the Dark One has been driven back by sacred springs or holy water.

“The worst thing that can happen is nothing. Which means we are no worse off than we were before. Best case…the evil fucking bastard catches a jet in the face and melts like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

He set the buckets to the side inside the kitchen. Sybil set her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“John, can I talk to you? Upstairs?”

John looked at her, face stiff with dislike. He nodded curtly. “Sure.”

He led her upstairs and into his bedroom, rather than the ritual room where he had mated with his sisters and cousins. He leaned against his desk and waited, arms folded.

“John, I owe you an apology.”

“Yeah, I think you do,” he said, and her eyes widened.

“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

“Why should I? You’ve made it clear from the start that you don’t approve of what Mom decided to do. You insulted me in my own home. Why should I make sure you don’t feel bad? You certainly didn’t for me.”

Sybil took a deep breath, reminding herself that John’s bad temper was justified, and her own fault besides.

“I was wrong. John … I never approved of what your mother has brought about. When she first proposed it, several years ago, I thought she was nuts, and told her so. To willingly introduce incest into our bloodline? Goddess, anyone who has taken high school biology knows what a can of worms that can open.”

“But if the stories of our origin are true, we are all the result of an incestuous relationship,” John noted. Hi scowl was gone and his expression much lighter as he realized that Sybil’s reservations came from genuine reasons, not mere pique at having been the last one to go to bed with him.

“What…oh. The story of our ancestress meeting the High One, then mating with their offspring. Well, your mother is more romantic than I am, Johnny. I am not sure if I believe that tale. And even if it is true, our ultimate grandmother mated with a man who was only half human to produce our line. That kind of takes the incest worries out of the equation.

“Us, though? Johnny, what we are doing is dangerous. I don’t doubt that your mother did as she thought best, and that when you and Susie crossed in such proximity to each other, as emotionally close as you were, it was all but inevitable that you mate. But you know the genetic danger. And the emotional danger is almost as great. If your relationship with one of your sisters or cousins go sour, think about the fallout.”

“What would you have done then, Aunt Sybil?” John asked, frustrated. “Separate Susie and me? Send one of us away? Or wait for another man of power who may never come? You know as well as we do how lucky we got with Steve. Who knows when another one would have shown up?

“And as far as the emotional fallout is concerned, don’t you think that would be the same whether or not I am related to them? If Steve stays and mates with, say, Susie and Eleanor, and then has a blow-out with Ellie, don’t you think the strain on the three of them would be as bad as it would be if Steve was their brother rather than myself?”

“I didn’t say I had all the answers,” Sybil said. “I came up here to apologize. What has happened isn’t your doing. Or, really, your mother’s. Despite my misgivings, I feel the hand of the Goddess in this. Maybe Claire felt it earlier and I didn’t. But you only have only to look at you and Hilda, or Ellie, and know that your mating has been blessed by the Goddess herself.

“So,” she said, coming to him and drawing him into a warm hug. “I was wrong. And I’m sorry for what I said the other day. About us not having a future. Even if it was true, it was mean and was meant to hurt you. And I shouldn’t have said it.”

To her relief, she felt John’s arms come around her, returning her embrace. And she felt her body responding in other ways, preparing herself for a man. She reached down and cupped his prodigious manhood through his shorts.

“What do you say, Johnny?” she whispered, licking her lips lasciviously. “How about a little playtime to seal the deal?”

John glanced out the window, where the long summer day was drawing to a close. “I don’t know, Aunt Sybil. Mom and Steve should be back soon. I think this is going to be an all-nighter. I don’t want to be caught by surprise if he escapes and beats them home.” When Sybil looked up at him, she saw his face was pale and strained.

“Fear’s nothing to be ashamed of, Johnny,” she said gently. She unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them down to his ankles, the knife belt thumping to the carpet heavily. Her fingers stroked his rod, amazed once again by his beauty, which he was all but oblivious to.

“It’s not that,” he said, his breath starting to come short. His arms held her close. More for comfort, she thought, than from passion. “I had that…thing…in my head. It’s going to be coming back here to kill us all. What if…what if it can take me over, too? Make me turn on you? Goddess, I couldn’t live with myself if that happened!”

Sybil dropped to her knees, hand still softly stroking his length. She dipped her head and kissed the tip of his cock, then bent for a long, deep kiss, tongue stroking the sensitive flesh of his glans. She looked up at him, smiling proudly, lovingly, at her only nephew.

“He can’t, John. And you won’t. He is too deeply embedded in Grant now. It will take a huge effort on the Dark One’s part to remove himself from Grant’s mind. Too huge to do it and then immediately take you over.

“Besides,” she said, dropping her head to lick his shaft, hand slowly pumping, her hand slick with saliva and his secretions, “You know what to beware of now. The first time he influenced you, you were so jacked up on hormones and crossing, you would have humped a tree stump if it was reasonably attractive.”

Above her, John snorted, then gasped as her head dropped further and further onto his cock, taking more of his length between her lovely lips than he could have imagined. She bobbed slowly, extending the moments of delicious pleasure as her tongue danced and swirled on the tender skin of his shaft. He dropped his hands to her head, softly stroking the silky length of her brown hair as she rose and fell, his phallus gently trapped between her lips. One hand dropped away and crept beneath the waistband of her shorts, fingers moving urgently as her thighs spread.

John closed his eyes and gave in to sensation, reveling in the feel of his aunt’s lips wrapped around his dick. The familiar precursors to orgasm swept over him. His balls drew up towards his sack. His member throbbed, steel-hard in Sybil’s mouth.

“If you want to screw, you better stop now, Aunt Sybil,” he managed to grate out from between clenched teeth as he fought against the rising tide of his climax.

“Nuuh-uuhh,” she moaned around his tool, and her efforts redoubled, spit leaking from the corners of her mouth to drip lewdly down his cock, wet in the crannies of his scrotum. Her cheeks bowed inwards as she sucked and licked him, the curtain of her hair hiding her arms from his view as she frantically frigged herself.

John’s cum came rushing up the shaft of his phallus, muscles twitching madly. He barely had time to gasp out a warning before the first explosive spurt burst from his cock, coating Sybil’s throat with his essence. She moaned and capped his head with her lips, tongue bathing his crown as shot after shot of his sperm was welcomed into her eager mouth.

After his burst had slowed to a trickle, she bent and cleaned his cock with her mouth, lips and tongue bathing him like a mama cat with her kitten. Above her he shuddered as she lingered on the exquisitely sensitive flesh of his head, fists clenched in rapture as the strong muscles of his thighs trembled. She rose, pulling his shorts, knife belt, and boxers up with her, and fastened his buttons and zipper.

“Feel better?” she asked, her breath thick with the scent of his seed.

He nodded and hugged her. “Thanks. I needed that.” He cocked his head as he heard his mother’s voice downstairs. “Sounds like Mom and Steve are back. I guess we should see what happened at the jail.”

Chapter 4

Claire’s eyebrows rose as she saw Sybil and John descend the stairs together. Good. It’s time they both put their differences behind them. And from the look of things it was Sybil who made the first move. As it should have been.

She looked at the rest, who were gathered in a huddle on the couch. She measured them, weighing both their strength and spirit, deciding who would stay indoors, and who would be part of the ambush outside.

Not Susanna, she decided immediately. Her daughter had been all but incapacitated by her sensitivity to the Dark One’s psychic stench. She would be no use at all in a physical confrontation. Agatha, the smallest of them all and unused to any sort of violent activity, would have to stay inside as well.

That’s two, she mused. But we’re going to have to leave someone inside who can fight and lead in case he gets past us.

Sybil and Eleanor, she judged, would have the strength of mind and body necessary. Sybil was more than fit enough to give the Dark One a fight, with Eleanor to back her. And they both had the strength of will necessary to defy him until rescue could come, either from the outside crew or from more mundane authorities.

She sighed, mock dramatically. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do with you people. I tell you to engage in some recreational fucking, and when I get home you all still have your clothes on. Can’t you do anything I tell you?”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Agatha said comfortably from her position on the couch, squeezed between Hilda and Susanna. “Besides, Johnny was upstairs getting a blow-jay from Mom.” The other girls giggled helplessly at her terminology. “And I don’t swing towards women,” she concluded.

“I’ve been keeping my nose to the breeze,” said Susanna in response to Claire’s look. “I’m not going to bury it in another woman’s pussy and maybe lose a chance to warn everyone.”

“And I’m not going to waste energy screwing,” said Hilda, backed by Ellie’s firm nod. “There are other types of love than sex, Aunt Claire,” she continued. “I think any one of them would serve to draw him here. How did the meeting at the jail go?”

“What I saw was not Calvin Grant,” said Steve soberly from his position at Claire’s side. “I didn’t see any hint he even exists in his own body anymore.”

“Poor bastard,” murmured Eleanor softly. Steve nodded.

“I hated him. But no one deserves what has happened to him. Claire is right,” he continued, glancing at where she stood, foot tapping nervously. “The best thing we can do for him is to grant him a quick death.”

“All right,” said Claire impatiently. “Here’s how it is going to go down.

“John, Hilda, Steve, and I will go outside and hide as soon as it is full dark. I don’t think that he will try to escape while there is still light in the sky. He’s expecting four of us to be inside. Me, John, Susie, and Steve. The ones who live here. So that’s what he will see. But instead of being those four, it’ll be Sybil, Ellie, Agatha, and Susie.

“Once he is drawn in too deep to escape we’ll trigger the water and take him down. Any questions?”

Hilda grimaced. “At least it’s simple. Where do you intend to take him?”

“I’d prefer the back. There’s a lot of cover back there. And he isn’t going to stay out front where someone can see him from the street.” She ran a shaking hand through her hair, and Steve realized she was as terrified as the rest of them. It was one thing to think about killing an immortal demon, but quite another to be on the threshold of actually attempting it. Her hand found his, and he squeezed it hard, catching a grateful look.

She squared her shoulders. “Maybe you guys don’t feel like fucking. But I do. Steve, will you take me to bed, honey?”

Steve gulped and looked at John and his sisters. Susie grinned and jumped up to give him a hug.

“Oh, Momma. You’re going to have so much fun.” She caught herself as she looked into Claire’s pale face. “Or you would. If you weren’t so scared. Don’t worry,” she said, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

John shrugged resignedly and gave him a nod and a smile. Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I’m going to say anything? This is why we brought you here in the first place, boyo. Knock yourself out.”

Claire looked at the clock. “Nearly eight. If we aren’t downstairs by nine come and get us.”

xxxxx

When they were alone in Claire’s bedroom she came into his arms and huddled there, trembling. When she raised her face, he saw tear tracks on her cheeks.

“Goddess, Steve. I’m so scared.” She ran her hands through gray-streaked hair. There seemed to be more pale threads there than there had been only a few hours ago. “I’ve gambled the future of the entire coven on the chance that we can kill the Dark One. None of us have ever tried anything like this before.

“If we fail tonight, we fall. All of us.”

“We will not fall,” he replied, startled at the surety in his voice. “With our love to bind us together, we are stronger than he can imagine.”

Her eyes glittered as she looked at him. “Love, Steve? That was quick.”

“Love,” he said firmly. “Goddess only knows how it happened. I sure don’t. One moment I was passing out religious literature on a boiling hot day, hating my life, and the next a girl jogged up to me and I found myself tangled up with your entire crazy, gorgeous, unbelievable family. I’m not even going to try to explain it. I’m just going to accept it. I love you. All of you. Even that jerky son of yours.

“I would rather he not be around, you understand,” he teased, his hands firm on her soft waist, “but you seem to be fond of him, so I won’t complain much.”

He bent to her and caught her rising mouth in a kiss. She flowed up his body, the flesh of her thighs and stomach warm against his groin. His mouth opened under her questioning tongue, answering her in the only way possible. Lips stroking each other, their tongues merged in a union that would not be broken in this life.

Fingers steady, he rapidly unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra, sighing as the treasures of her breasts tumbled into his hands, a blessed bounty. He bent to kiss them, hefting them in his hands to bring the nipples to his lips even as she sighed and ran her hands through his hair and over his back.

“I’ve wanted this,” she said softly, “ever since that first day when you called me on the phone, so scared I would turn you down.”

She gasped as his mouth found her nipple and suckled gently. Below his hands, she undid the clasp of her skirt and sighed as it fluttered to the floor, cool air striking her heated skin.

“You sounded so sad, so desperate. Even before I saw you, I wanted to take you in my arms and care for you.

“And then you showed up,” she sighed, unbuckling his belt and pulling his slacks and boxers off, fingers stoking the taut curves of his ass. “So beautiful it was a miracle none of us molested you before we brought you into the coven.

“I fantasized about you, you know,” she said conversationally, between kisses that grew ever more heated. They were both nude now, her fingers gliding on the strong muscles of his chest, his cock pressed into the flesh of her stomach, making her cleft tingle in anticipation. “The first day you were here,” she said, smiling, answering his unspoken question. “When you were weeding the garden. I watched you from the window, then went to bed and stuck my dildo so far up my slit I thought I’d need tongs to pull it out.”

He huffed laughter into her hair, fingers stroking her shoulderblades, then softly running down her back to tease her thighs. She opened to his touch, spreading her legs eagerly as he discovered her cleft, ready and wet for his touch.

“Screw this,” she gasped, backing into the bed, then laying down on it, arms high above her head, pulling her breasts upright, nipples pointing skyward. She writhed sensuously, the fabric of the coverlet a delight on her sensitive skin.

“I intend to,” he said with a smile, easing into the welcoming embrace of her spread legs. His cock pointed unerringly towards her glistening passage. He cupped her mound in his hand, clever fingers teasing her lips as he kissed her mouth, her breasts, her belly.

She heated under his touch, blood rushing to engorge her nether lips, her petals growing puffy, slowly parting to greet the cock she ached to take within her. Her breasts swelled, flushing with passion, and she moaned as he worshiped them again, one hand cupping the heavy globes while his mouth pulled softly at her nipple.

“Steve,” she whispered, and he looked into her eyes, heavy-lidded and dilated with lust. “It is time. Take me.”

Wordlessly he nodded. He held her hands above her head and moaned into her mouth as he parted her silken sheath with his cock. He loosely circled her wrists with his fingers, the most gentle of prisons, delighting in the sense of control over this incredible woman.

Below him, Claire gave way to passion, ceding control to her lover, this gentle, incredible boy who had burst into their lives like a shooting star only a few short weeks ago. She arched her back, aching for his touch, reveling in the feel of his hot cock, long and hard, stroking the sensitive folds of her labia. For a short time, she put down the burden of responsibility. The only thing to do now was to feel. Feel the glow in her breasts as his lips circled her nipples. Feel the heat in her core growing as his phallus pushed into her again and again. Feel the soft satin of the sheets caress her ass and shoulders and calves as she writhed on the bed. Feel the love for the man above her, who might be the salvation of them all.

The heat at her core expanded, pushing her towards her climax. She drove towards it, never doubting its arrival. Her hips rose and fell, matching Steve’s pace. Hungry now, she broke his grasp around her wrists and pulled his head to her breast, hoarsely demanding that he suck her titties, bite her nips, oh just a bit harder love, just a bit

OH!

Her orgasm broke over her, as expected and as miraculous as the sunrise, the quaking muscles of her belly and womb releasing their burden of arousal. Keening in joy, she held Steve’s face to her chest, hips bucking strongly, and only dimly felt his cock twitch as he spent himself within her.

xxxxx

They napped for a short time, but were woken by Eleanor’s gentle tap at the door.

“Momma? It’s getting dark, and Susie’s getting anxious. She thinks that something is happening, but she can’t pin it down. I think you should come downstairs now.”

They dressed quickly. As Steve did up his knife-belt, he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching. He looked up to see Claire eying him.

“What’s funny?” she asked, and he gave a short snicker.

“You know that bit in the movies where there’s an exciting montage of the heroes gearing up to take on the evil overlord or the mob kingpin or the zombies? I just realized that we were at that moment right now.”

She smiled grimly and kissed his cheek, hands making sure her belt was secure and the knife slid smoothly into her grasp.

“Let’s do it.”

xxxxx

They stood in the family room near the back deck, the four who would go out and the four who would remain behind.

“Lock the door behind us, Sybil,” said Claire. Her face was still pale, but her voice was firm. “But leave the windows open. You’ll need to hear us when we give the signal. You’ve practiced?” she asked.

Sybil nodded and gathered her sister in a hug. “Three times. Less than two seconds from the signal to when we have full operation. I love you.

“And you,” she said, looking at Hilda. She gathered John and Steve in her glance. “You take care of my little girl.”

“Shit,” said John, sotto voce, “I was hoping you’d tell her to take care of us.” He hugged Aggie, Eleanor and Susie. “You take care of yourselves. We’ll be back soon.”

Claire took Susanna and Eleanor’s hands in hers. “If I don’t come back…” Her voice broke. “I am very proud of you. Forever and always proud.”

Steve handed John a brown bag. “For luck,” he said.

John opened it. “Sweet!” he exclaimed, setting a black Cardinals cap on his head. “It even helps me blend in. Camouflage.”

“Don’t you feel just a bit bad wearing the color of evil on a mission of justice?” Steve asked.

“Do not trouble me with trifles,” John said contemptuously in a Spanish accent. “After twenty-five years, my grandmother’s soul will be avenged. There will be blood tonight!”

Hilda shook her head at her sister and cousins. “Star Wars?” she asked.

“The Princess Bride,” said Agatha. She hugged her sister. “Be careful, you horny, foul-mouthed bitch.”

“And you, you stuck-up, repressed nerd.”

They looked at Claire. She took them in, family and new-found friend alike. She nodded her head shortly.

“Let’s go.”

They opened the back door and filed slowly out into the night.

xxxxx

At the jail, Grant’s body rose from the bench in response to an unseen signal. Outside, the last of the daylight was fading from the Iowa sky.

It is time, the demon thought. Time and past time. By this time tomorrow the Chamberlain Coven will be smoldering ashes. First the main nest with the men and their whores. Then the rest, scattered and leaderless.

With a gleeful glare he surveyed the cell. The rancid stink of fear was thick on his tongue. He savored it as a human would a fine meal, growing stronger on its power. Hard, vicious men shrank away from his gaze. With a sneer he bent and ripped a leg off the metal bench, then began furiously striking it on the bars of his cell, telling the hour of doom.

Bong. Bong. Bong.

“Pigs!” he shouted. “Pigs! Come out and play, pigs! Come out and play!” He continued banging and screaming until a door slammed open at the end of the hall.

“By God and Jesus Christ his Son, I have had enough of this shit,” snarled an officer. He stomped up to the door of the cell. Doyle stood behind him, looking anxious. “Put out your hands, Grant. You are going into solitary, and by God, tomorrow you are going to the hospital to be evaluated. You are seven different kinds of fucked up.”

The Dark One allowed Grant’s hands to fall, hiding his glee. So easy. It is so easy. They are just like cattle.

“I…I think you’re right, officer. I feel so odd. So strange. Nothing makes sense anymore,” he moaned, lifting a worried face to him. He dropped the metal bar with a clatter and offered the officer his wrists.

From behind, Doyle offered, “Jenkins, maybe you should have his hands cuffed behind his back. I think he’s dangerous.”

Jenkins snapped the cuffs closed around the Dark One’s wrists. “Too late now,” he said cheerily. He heaved the cell door open. “Now, just walk along in front of us, nice and URK! …”

Doyle would not have believed anything human could move that fast. In a blink Grant had lifted his shackled hands above his head and bludgeoned Jenkins to the floor, striking him mercilessly on the back of the neck. Before he could move he found his neck caught in a vise-like grip, then flung sideways into the wall. His head struck the concrete and he blacked out.

Whistling happily, the Dark One pulled the key-ring from Jenkins’ belt and undid his cuffs. His wallet was next, and then his car keys. He was about to pull out Jenkins’ service revolver and shoot him when a hoarse shout shattered the air.

“Officer down! Officer down! Officer down!”

The Dark One glared at Kowalski, but moved his hands away from the gun. “Damn you,” he hissed. From the corner of his eye he could see Doyle groggily rising to his knees. He dropped the cuffs on Jenkins’ motionless body and heaved himself to his feet, keeping the key ring. Moving swiftly, he unlocked an outside door, exiting the jail just as alarms started to scream.

xxxxx

It really was amazingly easy these days, he thought. He had stopped at a grocery store and bought a box of glass bottles with narrow necks, just big enough to stopper with a dishcloth. He bought a set of those, too. A stop at a service station got him all the gasoline he would need and a cigarette lighter.

A few hundred years ago I would have had to spend half the night piling brush and logs around the house. And if it rained I was fucked. Who says that humans don’t have their uses? He giggled maniacally to himself as he poured the gasoline into the bottles and considered the best way to burn down the house.

Have to cover both doors, he decided. But most of the lights are off. Guess the little dears are asleep. He smiled wolfishly.

Doors and downstairs windows first, he decided. Then lob some through the upstairs windows. With any luck I’ll be able to hear them scream as they roast alive.

Walking swiftly but carefully, he hauled a cardboard box full of bottles around to the back of the house. Keeping his distance from the disgusting garden and its foul reek of greenery, he set it down. He glared at the door. It was covered in a fine metal mesh, and any attempt to lob a bottle through it would result in it rebounding back to him.

Thwarted. Always thwarted, he snarled to himself. He set the box down and climbed onto the deck, looking for an object to hold the screen door open so he could throw the bottle through the glass of the inside door.

Suddenly floodlights blazed on, pinning his shadow against the back of the house. From the terrible, horrifying garden, stinking of fresh food and life, four shapes emerged. They held knives in their hands, and he could see the menacing glint of silver.

He turned to run, to flee from the light, but even as he did so a triumphant yell tore loose from Claire Chamberlain’s lips.

“NOW, SYBIL!!” she shouted.

Water! Disgusting, clean water, reeking of sanctity and holiness, spouted up from a half-dozen spots around the deck, raining gently onto the wooden planks. He shrank back, cringing away from its searing touch. His eyes cut right and left, seeking an avenue out, but there was no escape.

“This is for our dead,” Claire said softly, and there was no mercy in her eyes. None at all.

“Take him.”

The Coven charged forward as one, knives held low. Desperately, The Dark One flung himself to one side, seeking to evade the rush. He slipped by a blow from Steve, catching the cut on one arm, whimpering with pain, but hope leaped in his chest as he spied a narrow aisle through the coven. If he ran and jumped off the deck, through the falling water, he might make it. He would be terribly burned, but…

He was just gathering himself for the leap when the knife hammered into his chest and through his heart.

Grim as death, Hilda held the Dark One’s squirming vessel in place. She raised her pale face up, stomach heaving in revulsion as Grant’s dying body fought to pull away from the knife, mindless as a fish on a hook “Help me!” she shouted.

John and Steve lunged forward, pinning him down. With a knee in Grant’s back, Steve’s knife hammered into his neck, severing the spine, as John’s punched into the kidneys.

And Claire Chamberlain, head of the Chamberlain Coven, pulled Grant’s face up for one last look at the sky before she cut the Dark One’s throat with a sweeping slice of her blade.

She stood there, spattered in blood, and watched as the life faded from Calvin Grant’s eyes. She saw, as did her children and lover, the Dark One desperately try to free himself from Grant’s mind, and then be dragged down into the void.

She stood and took a deep breath, smiling at the star-spangled sky, which was, for this night at least, just a bit cleaner, the air a bit purer, the water a bit sweeter, than it had been the night before.

She wiped the knife clean on Grant’s shirt and stuck it in its sheath.

“It’s done” A weary smile crossed her face. “Come on, kids. Let’s wait for the police.”

xxxxx

The police, truth be told, seemed very unsure of how to react. It was one thing to get a 911 call from a frantic teenager, reporting that a crazy man was trying to burn down her house. It was another to be greeted by eight calm men and women, four of whom freely confessed to killing the man in the struggle which had followed, apparently with ceremonial knives which they were using for their own religious rituals.

“Well, we do have the restraining order,” a confused sergeant was telling the homicide investigator.

“And we have the report from the state troopers who took this nutball in earlier today,” Lieutenant Kerr replied testily. “And we have the fact that this guy went completely off his rocker at the station and attacked Officers Doyle and Jenkins. And we have what seem to be a large amount of Molotov cocktails in the car he stole and in a box near the house. And we have a long history of violence and erratic behavior, considering this man has a record in nine different states, including a beating that he gave this Steven Johnson fellow just a few weeks ago. We have that report from Officer Rawlins. What about this does not scream self-defense to you, Sergeant?”

Stewart flushed, but met Kerr’s eyes solidly. “The knives, Lieutenant. Are we supposed to believe that they just happened to have those knives handy and used them to kill this guy?”

“They’ve already told us they used the knives to kill the guy when he attacked them. Owning a knife isn’t a crime. And there is a little chapel in there with a pile of cut-up apples and pears. Apparently they worship some sort of pagan Goddess who is really into agriculture.

“So if it were me and I noticed a guy who had threatened to burn me alive earlier in the day sneaking around the house, I think I’d grab the first handy weapon too, Sergeant. And no, before you say anything, having a religious ritual in your house is also not a crime.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have two choices, Bobby. Either this guy was a complete whacko who tried to burn eight people to death in their own home and was only stopped because the owners got really lucky, or these people somehow lured him here and killed him for no good reason at all. And don’t forget that they had to somehow arrange for him to escape police custody to do it. I know what side I’m coming down on.”

“But the force they used? Was lethal force really necessary?”

“When someone tries to burn down my house, I’ll let you know, Bobby. Let’s wrap this up and get the hell out of here. This entire business gives me the creeps.”

xxxxx

“Well,” Sybil said softly, as the last squad car drove away. “That went better than I expected.”

“Then why do I feel so awful?” Hilda asked. She sat hunched on the sofa, trembling, her hands clenched together.

“Because killing should never feel good, darling,” said Sybil, gathering her daughter in a gentle embrace. “It might be necessary. Even a desired outcome. But taking a life is never a good thing.”

“You’re right, though, Aunt Sybil. The cops did let us off awfully lightly,” said Eleanor. “I figured Mom and Hilda and the boys would be arrested, at least. Maybe not charged, seeing how Grant and the Dark One had behaved over the last couple of weeks. But at least questioned a lot harder than what happened tonight.”

“That’s because we told the truth.” said Claire. “We were worshiping. We were using the knives to cut fruit. We did go outside when we became aware of Grant. We did see him planning to burn the house down. And we did kill him in the following struggle.

“The only thing we did was not tell them certain things. Such as how we expected Grant to attack us, and how we prepared for it.”

“What happens next?” said Susanna.

“I think,” said Agatha, “that we won’t be seeing the police here again. At least not about this. They want the simple explanation. And they have one. Calvin Grant had a psychotic episode, went insane, attacked two police officers, escaped custody, and attempted to burn down a house belonging to some people who he had a grudge against. You see that sort of story on the internet every week.

“Also, they won’t want to come back.”

“Why not?” asked Steve.

“Because of all the charms we have put on this place over the years. And on Mom’s place too, of course. The look-aways. We always meant them to guard us against nosy neighbors and the Dark One, if he ever showed up here. But the police aren’t going to want to come back here.”

They all say quietly, considering Aggie’s words. Finally John rose to his feet. “Well, I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed,” he said. He brushed ineffectually at his jeans, which were coated in mud. “That garden is full of dirt, Mom. I think you should do something about it.”

“I’ll get right on that, Johnny,” she said solemnly.

Chapter 5

The next six weeks were wonderful. Spring and summer mated and made love in the Iowa cornfields, blessing the days with abundant sunshine and soft breezes, seasoned with long, gentle rainfalls which made the farmers fall down and weep for joy at their good fortune. The deep, earthy smell of growing things seemed to have an effect on the good people of Des Moines, as Claire and Sybil were amused to see. Interest in their small stock of erotica and tantra books shot through the roof, and Claire finally threw her hands up in exasperation and ordered a full hundred copies of The Kama Sutra just to keep up with demand.

Steve continued his work with the road crew, but found plenty of time to spend with John and Susanna and the rest of the Chamberlain family. John had found work as a stockboy at the Hy-Vee, while Susie scored a paid internship with the local phone company, helping to update their records as they switched over to a new database.

After a grueling telethon one Saturday, which included using Claire’s fax machine to send off copies of every proof of his identity he had, Steve found himself the astonished recipient of three checks from various insurance companies totaling more than three hundred thousand dollars. He immediately deposited them into the bank, and on Sybil’s advice, broke them into several different accounts. He also was able to take and pass his high school equivalencies, and had started looking around for colleges to apply to in the next school year.

Two weeks after the confrontation with the Dark One, they were formally notified that there would be no charges stemming from Calvin Grant’s death. It was declared to be a matter of self-defense. The body was cremated in a pauper’s funeral, as Rachel Grant had no money to pay for a casket or tombstone. She went back to her own people in Arkansas, where Steve hoped she could find some measure of peace.

And, of course, they all continued to screw each other like oversexed rabbits. Steve was walking around with a smile permanently plastered to his face, and John and Susanna looked ridiculously smug. Hilda, as she claimed happily, “finally had all the cock she could handle”, and was practically glowing with good cheer, while Eleanor was scraping the depths of her imagination for new ways for them to debauch themselves. This, at one point, included Agatha, herself, costumes, and a role play where the girls were addressed as “Galadriel” and “Arwen”.

Even Hilda thought that one was a bit weird.

But Steve enjoyed it quite a lot.

Independence Day came and went, and July was passing, when Agatha asked for a formal meeting of the coven one Saturday afternoon. She refused to say why, which confused her sister and mother immensely.

Claire closed the door of the store on the last customer of the day and turned the sign around to read “closed”. She entered the back room and sat down at the new table, lengthened to include all eight of them.

She frowned. “I don’t like this business with a head and a foot of the table,” she said, “even if I am at the head. But we don’t have room back here for an eight-sided table.”

“If we keep selling how-to sex-books like we are, we’ll be able to buy out the gyro shop next door and expand,” Sybil suggested. “I don’t know what’s come over people. It’s like someone’s pumping aphrodisiacs into the water supply.”

“No such thing,” said Aggie and Steve simultaneously, and they grinned at each other.

Hilda shrugged, “Who cares? Anything that makes people horny and happy is okay with me. Maybe magic is coming back into the world after all,” she suggested.

Claire smiled. “Wouldn’t that be a hell of a thing? For five hundred years of technological advances to be shown to be nothing more than a veneer over the spirit world? For the old gods and goddesses to come back and have a hand in things?”

“Might not be totally comfortable,” Eleanor noted. “Some of the old gods weren’t the sort you’d like to spend time with. Especially if you were a woman.”

“Anyway,” said Sybil, dragging the conversation back to where it belonged, “you had something you wanted to say, Agatha?”

“Yes, Mom,” she said. She looked at the group. “Summer is passing. John and Susie will be leaving for Champaign in a few weeks. Has anyone thought about what we’re going to do then?”

“Give Steve a supply of Viagra?” asked Hilda with a strained smile.

“No need for that,” said Steve. “The spirit is willing. But the flesh is weak, spongy, and easily bruised.” He looked at Agatha. “I think you have a solution in mind.”

“I do,” she nodded. She set out a series of folders on the table. “This is my acceptance to the College of Engineering at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign,” she said formally. “I’ve decided to transfer.

“Drake is a second-rate engineering school, Mom,” she said to Sybil’s astonished gaze. “We knew it when I applied there, but we decided that I would be better off closer to home.

“That was true then, maybe. For the purposes of the coven and for my emotional well-being. But it has been a disaster for me academically and professionally. Right now I’m a big fish in a little pond. And no one is going to look at me twice after I graduate unless I’ve got a big-time degree next to my name. The U of I can do that. Especially if I stay there for post-grad work. It’s been a top-ten engineering school for decades.”

“And if you’re there…” Susanna’s voice grew excited. Agatha smiled and nodded.

“Then I can get a place for myself off-campus. A place where my cousins are always welcome and can screw without being worried about their roommates barging in. A place where my cousin can drop by and satisfy my perverse lusts.”

“You’ve got it, Golden Girl,” John said with an affectionate smile.

“And Steve,” she said, nodding to him, “won’t be forced to wear his pecker to a nub trying to satisfy five women at once.”

“No indeed,” said Steve with a crooked grin. “Now it will only be four. But that’s an improvement.”

“Might be down to three pretty soon, honey child,” said Sybil. “Larry and me…I won’t say it’s serious, but it’s approaching it.” She looked at Claire. “He’s got a brother, Sis. Almost as good-looking as he is, and open-minded, too. What do you say? Want to go on a double-date, just like the old days?”

Claire rolled her eyes fondly at Sybil and looked around the table. “Does anyone oppose Agatha’s suggestion?” Silence greeted her, though Sybil’s face was grave at the thought of her daughter leaving home. She nodded. “Very well,” she smiled at her niece. “Good luck, Aggie.”

“Does anyone else have anything we need to discuss?” Eleanor asked, unbuttoning her shirt and lifting John’s hand to her lips, eyes hot with lust. He licked his lips, returning her smoldering gaze. Across the table, Agatha had already pulled off her blouse and was sitting on Steve’s lap, moaning as he kissed the back of her neck, hands cradling her breasts. Susanna looked on, wide-eyed with passion, hands hidden below the table. It seemed that the long-promised, long-delayed orgy was finally about to occur. Sybil and Claire, smiling lovingly, were at the door, planning on a discreet exit.

“I do,” said a quiet voice. All eyes turned to Hilda, who was standing, resplendently nude. Her glorious breasts were thrust forward, nipples turgid with excitement and desire. She laid a hand softly on her belly and looked at them proudly, a secret smile on her lips, at that moment seeming to be the mother of the wide green world.

“The Coven increases.”

THE END OF PART FOUR