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Father Brindisi walked at the front, alternating between the Lord's Prayer and the Nineteenth Psalm. He carried a large chalice of holy water before him, casting droplets as they walked.
In time, they saw the circle before them.
Finn started violently, seeing Megan, shivering, trembling, pale and freezing upon the altar. It was as he had dreamed, so often! There she was, waiting, and he…
He gritted his teeth hard, and forced himself to repeat Father Brindisi's words.
The Satanists saw them coming, and apparently expected them.
The Satanic priest, officiating at the altar, was clad in a black cloak, his face hidden by a cowl.
The others were naked, twisting and spiraling in a strange dance as they chanted. Unafraid, they stared at the newcomers, taunting them with their chants growing louder and louder.
Finn felt his anger rise as he recognized Sara, Gayle, Sam Tartan—darned ugly naked, his little thing shriveled and scrawny in the cold. And there was Darren, leading Lizzie about the circle, making sneering faces at them as he held the dog's collar, as if he could send Lizzie out to crunch into their throats. And there… an old hag! It was Susanna from Huntington House. And then the couple! John and Sally. The nurse he had seen at the hospital… Dorcas. Theo Martin, the cop— and his brother, Eddie! A huge bonfire blazed from the center of the pentagram, and they cavorted around it, sneering at him, as if incredibly entertained that they had been leading them along all the while.
Lucian elbowed him. He forced himself to keep repeating the prayers they spoke. But he was counting.
Sara, Gayle, Susanna, Brad and Sally, Darren, Eddie, Theo, Sam Tartan, and there… the old asshole who had acted like a lecher at the bar, and his wife. Two more. They needed two more.
One…
The man in the black robes at the altar.
But…
There. Walking from the woods. A small figure in a black cloak and cowl, just like those worn by the priest at the altar.
She came forward, crying out.
"Great Bac-Dal! Tonight, we serve you. We offer you flesh, blood, and carnal pleasure. We implore your coming into our world! And first, we offer up the sacrifice of the flesh!"
Finn fell silent again, horrified as he saw two of them break away from the fire. Finn felt ill. There was Morwenna, hog tied on the ground. As the newcomer spoke, she grabbed up a knife at the end of the altar, and walked toward Morwenna.
"No!" Finn roared.
"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!" Mike Smith breathed in terror at Finn's side.
As the newcomer brought the knife to Morwenna, the newcomer grasped the Morwenna's head, dragging it up so that the newcomer could slice her throat.
But then she paused, casting back her cowl with pride.
It was Aunt Martha. Attractive old Aunt Martha, who had claimed that she didn't believe in evil, then pretended that she had to admit to something, and that she was trying to help…
The pride and gloating on her face were incredible.
From the altar, Megan screamed. It was a terrible cry, rising in the night. It was horror, protest, revulsion, fear… and fury.
"No!"
Martha laughed.
Father Brindisi was reading from the book of exorcism, begging God to cast out evil demons. Jade led half of them in chanting from a book of spells.
"Fools!" Martha raged in a loud, clear voice. "Fools! You think you have power! Vampires, you are but the refuse of the earth! Bac-Dal, your moment has come! You have entered the servant of your vessel, Finn, the descendant of the man who has delayed your coming. " She cackled out a laughter so chilling that Finn felt goose pimples rise on his flesh. "Finn, He is in you, and you will come forward!"
A rush of fire filled him, just as if he had really been lit on fire. He could hear nothing then, only a chanting like a music, pulling him forward.
The fog swirled on the ground. Swirled from his own feet. Someone touched his arm, and he shook off the hideous restraint with the power that surged through him. He walked forward.
Jade threw salt before him, seeking the power of the earth to hold him. He knocked her aside. Father Brindisi raised a cross above his head, gibbering away in the name of God.
But he stepped from their circle, ripping off his coat, freeing himself from the material of his shirt.
They were touching him. The women were touching him. Lauding him, praising him. They kissed his flesh… fell behind him, their lips falling upon him even as he walked away, falling upon the earth where he had stepped. Blood thundered and raged through him. He felt a hunger, unlike anything he had known before.
And a surge of desire…
To kill.
Take the knife, rip open the woman's throat. Drink her blood, bathe in it, and then…
The prize on the altar would be his, in a new life, one of raw carnal pleasure and sheer power. The world would fall to his feet.
"Come, great Bac-Dal! Take the blade, and we will share in this woman's blood, and when it is done, the mortal coil will be yours, and youth will be mine, as my soul, ever ready to serve your least desire, shall root within the youth and beauty upon your divine altar!"
Yes!
Bac-Dal was within him. Great and powerful. He was Bac-Dal. Supreme. His fingers itched to caress the knife, to rip into flesh, to drink the blood of life.
He moved forward, slowly, for there was no rush, just great pleasure.
He reached the priestess, the crone, an old woman now, but with a soul that had sought to serve him, planned, for years… she would take on the beauty of youth, the vigor, the passion, and together…
His fingers closed around the knife.
He was Bac-Dal!
Morwenna was shrieking for her life, fighting the hands that held her. Megan strained wildly against the ropes that bound her, shouting, screaming until she was hoarse. She could hear the priest, his words growing more desperate, and she could hear the others, their voices rising in the spells of nature and the earth…
Finn was going to kill Morwenna!
Another voice entered into her mind. Not a voice that tried to rise above the others, just a voice in her head.
Call out to him, Megan! Call out to the man, the man you have known and loved, call to him loudly, with everything in your heart and soul.
It was Lucian's voice. And she knew, no matter what the power of their supernatural friends, she and Finn had to fight and win this battle. Bac-Dal might have blocked much of the "sight" that the vampires usually had, but still, they had known somehow, suspected Martha, even. But it had to have come to this, to her, to Finn.
You must call out to him, stop him, somehow, now.
Call out!
And so she did.
"Finn! For the love of God, Finn!"
The knife was in his hands. It was he now who had Morwenna by the hair, jerking her head upward so that the blade could easily access the white flesh of her throat.
"Finn, dear God, dear Lord, Finn!"
He let go of Morwenna's hair. He turned to Martha, and smiled. He walked to the altar where the priest remained at Megan's side.
"Joseph—you asshole!" he said clearly, scornfully. Then he sent his arm flying, knocking Joseph to the side. He raised the knife above Megan. His eyes met hers.
The sacrificial weapon came down, slicing the ropes that bound her to the altar.
Joseph came to his feet with a roar of fury, racing toward Finn, who was taken off guard, and the two went flying to the ground together. Martha let out a cry of anger as well and came racing forward, anxious to grab the knife.
Megan saw her running toward Morwenna, still tied and vulnerable.
But Martha couldn't reach her because there seemed to be a flurry of darkness, and Lucian was at her side, wrenching the knife from her.
Screams rose from everywhere.
Megan leaped up from the altar, then staggered and fell—her ankles were still bound. She struggled to free herself.
Mayhem seemed to have broken out.
She clawed the ropes from her ankles and stumbled up. Joseph lay flat on the ground, knocked unconscious. Megan grasped the wooden altar for the strength to stand. As she did so, she saw Gayle Sawyer come running forward, an oak branch in her hand. She was ready to crash it down with all her strength on Finn's back.
Megan found strength. Twisting, she jabbed her fist into Gayle's stomach with all her might. Gayle screamed and fell.
Megan looked down at her, and wrenched the branch away. "Guess what, bitch?" she said softly. "You'll never touch him—in any way!"
She felt a whir of air behind her and spun around, the branch now raised as a weapon in her own hand.
It was only Mike Smith, handing her his coat to cover her nakedness. She smiled at him. White as a sheet, he tried to offer her a smile.
Sara, across from the bonfire, started to shriek, tear at her hair, and run into the woods. They wouldn't get far. A whir in the darkness, a flap of wings…
Those who ran would quickly be caught.
Theo Martin was raging that he was still a cop, and he'd see that they all rotted in jail. He didn't speak long, though, because Ragnor just shook his head in disgust, and went over to flatten him.
It was just the mop up. The main battle had been fought, and won. And now, since their friends had such unusual power, the end would be quick and clean.
But then…
There was a terrible cry of rage.
Martha had risen again. And she had retrieved the sacrificial blade. She went rushing at Finn.
"Help him!" Megan shrieked, seeing that Lucian was striding around the pentagram on the ground, destroying it, and its power.
He'd never have time to reach Finn.
Yes, God, please! She thought. He was a vampire, he could reach Finn…
But he didn't need to. Finn was ready, kicking out and hitting Martha's arm.
They could all hear the crack of bone.
The knife flew up, and down. Finn caught it, and grabbed hold of Martha, bringing it to her throat.
But there he paused.
"No," he said softly. "You will not make a murderer out of me. "
He tossed Martha from him. And then, the copse was silent. Some of their enemies had run, and would be easily caught.