Cassie had calmed her libido with only marginal success by the time the limo pulled up in front of the house of Debby Radson, the mother of Susan Radson, one of the two girls that had been so horribly enslaved by Melissa. Despite Cassie's self-control, her sex still felt warm and willing, and walking only inflamed it.

Cassie did not pause to collect herself. She was as ready as she would ever be, and Jason was counting on her. She would not forget the flood of relief on his face when she took this task. She climbed the steps and knocked on the door.

A long silence followed, and Cassie worried that no one was home. Finally, there was a rush of approaching feet, and the door was yanked open by a familiar robed woman uttering a sigh of irritation. "Yes, who is it? I'm right in the middle ... oh!" Her irritation vanished and she smiled. "Cassie, hello!"

"Hi, Mrs. Radson. I'm sorry if I came at a bad time."

She beamed. "For you, no time is a bad time. Please, come in!"

Cassie stepped inside. "I'm sorry if I interrupted something."

Debby waved a hand. "I have several rituals that I need to perform outdoors, and I try to do them when everyone is at work so there are no neighbors to complain about that dumpy old woman prancing about in her skimpy robes and waving flowers and branches about," she explained with a wry smile. "I usually do them in the morning, but the wind was dreadful today."

Cassie smiled. She did not believe Debby was "dumpy" and certainly not "old."

Debby clasped her hands together. "So what may I do for you, Cassie? Are you here for another reading?"

Cassie saw the eagerness in Debby's eyes. She remembered Debby's surprise upon reading Cassie's aura -- her more "traditional" psychic aura in this case -- and discovered Cassie's Dream Gift before Cassie had mentioned it or knew what to call it. "Maybe later, Mrs. Radson. I have something I really need to talk to you about."

"Is something the matter?"

"Well, sort of. But it has nothing to do with the Darkness. At least I don't think it does."

Debby nodded. "Well, come with me to the pantry then. I won't take a reading from you yet, but I do want to cast a circle about us so we can speak without being bothered by an unwelcome presence."

Cassie nodded and followed. She doubted that such a ritual would stop a minion of the Darkness, but she did not want to appear intolerant of Debby's beliefs.

Taking another reading of her psychic aura unnerved her. Cassie doubted her additional abilities would remain hidden. She worried that Debby would take one look at Cassie's mutated aura and recoil in shock.

As soon as Cassie sat in the small, dark alcove, Debby set up the bits of material to represent air, fire, water, and earth on the floor about the table. To Cassie's silent appreciation, Debby did not dally with more than a short incantation over each. When Debby sat down, she moved the candles she used for aura readings out of the direct line of sight between her and Cassie.

"All right, then," Debby said, folding her hands before her. "What's bothering you, Cassie?"

Cassie stumbled at first in her narrative, her words halting and jumbled as she struggled to sort out the events in her head and get past her own embarrassment. To Cassie's relief, Debby remained patient and let her talk without interruption as she explained Heather's increased libido and its effects on the others. While Debby did betray some shock, she neither passed judgment nor flinched at Cassie's candor.

Cassie mentioned her own troubles as well, despite her embarrassment and the unrelenting ache in her pussy.

Debby sat in quiet contemplation at the conclusion of Cassie's story. She leaned back in her chair and focused her eyes on Cassie. "Forgive me for asking this, I know you've already revealed a huge amount of terribly personal information, but are you sexually aroused at this moment?"

Cassie's eyes widened. "Oh goodness, is it that obvious?"

Debby offered a wan smile. "Not to most people, no, but I have a better sense for this sort of thing."

"Oh. You mean ... because of Melissa ..."

Debby's eyes clouded. "That's part of it. But it was something that I could see before that. You have such a strong aura that I can see flickers of it even without formal preparation. And yes, I mean an ordinary psychic aura, not a Dark Aura."

"Mrs. Radson, I know I said this didn't have to do with the Darkness, but could I be wrong? Could it be trying to get at us through her?"

"To be honest, Cassie, you and your friends understand far more about the Darkness than I do. My meager abilities pale in comparison to what you and your friends share. But one thing I can tell you is that sex is not inherently bad. I'm pretty sure you already know this."

"Well, yes, but compelling people into it can't be right."

"No, it's not. I just want to make sure what you're actually frightened about."

"I'm not sure myself. But it scares me that all it took was a few words and a single touch from Heather to make me as aroused as I am."

"Now, again, stop me if you don't want to answer any more of these questions, but exactly who are you aroused for, or is undirected?"

A rush of sexual heat met the thought of Ned waiting in the limo. But other images teased her desires as well. Her tongue flicked against her teeth as she recalled when Melissa controlled her on the night of the Rite, and for a moment she thought she could still taste Jason's cock in her mouth.

Her pussy ran hot and seeped through her panties.

"M-mostly Ned," she said in a low, husky voice. "But ... I-I'm not sure if ... if I let myself do it with him near the others that I might not stop myself from ..." She trailed off as both revulsion and lust taunted her at the the thought of complete sexual abandon.

Debby nodded. "I understand, Cassie, you don't need to go on."

"We just don't know what to do," Cassie said in a quavering voice. "It's like Heather can't get enough and she's forcing everyone else to indulge her. But there's something else ..."

She told Debby of Heather's vision, and how it had come on stronger since Heather became so sex-starved. "Jason said that Elizabeth's journal had something in it about sex providing energy or power."

Debby was given pause by the revelation that someone was after the Book. She burned with the need to know more, even to demand what was being done to keep the Book safe, but Cassie needed her to remain focused on Cassie's issues. "Yes, that's most certainly true."

"But this is crazy. She can't possibly need that much! None of the rest of us need ... um ..."

Cassie trailed off. Debby leaned forward and tilted her head. "Forgive me once more, Cassie, but is there something you're not telling me?"

Cassie would not let the words come to her lips, but she did nothing to stop Debby from moving the candle back to the center of the table. She stared as Debby lighted it and peered at Cassie through the dancing flame.

"Oh my," Debby said in an awed whisper. "Your dream band is far more prominent than it has ever been. And these strange layers within it, I've never seen the likes of them before. Has your own power been augmented as well?"

Her eyes subdued, Cassie nodded.

"At the same time that Heather began influencing you into having sex more often?"

Cassie sighed. "Yes. Mrs. Radson, do you see what I mean? I don't have nearly as much sex as Heather does, and I'm starting to do things with this Dream Gift that frighten me. Why does she need so much, and why is she trying to pull everyone else in as well?"

Richie didn't bother going into the main part of his house, intent on avoiding his mother. The night before he had swiped the extra garage door remote, which he used as soon as the bus trundled away around the curve of the road.

He let the door rise to only the level of his chest and ducked his head as he dashed inside. He threw his book-bag into a dusty corner and rolled his bike outside. As he mounted the bike, he aimed the remote over his shoulder. His bike bounced from sidewalk to asphalt just as the door thumped to the ground.

Lingering gusts tossed him in the intersections and blasted his face raw. His heart hammered as he passed the gate of the cemetery. Silence descended like a fog with a break in the wind. He slowed when the low rattle of bicycle gears sounded unnaturally loud to him.

The place was deserted, save for a maintenance man who pushed about a small garbage can, pausing to snatch litter that had been blown in by the ferocious morning winds.

Richie finally braked hard and skidded to a stop along one of the paths that ran roughly through the center of the cemetery. Now what? Which one should he pick?

He dismounted and walked his bike towards a light pole. The clank of the chain seemed to echo all over Haven as he locked up the bike. He felt a need to apologize for the noise.

Richie frowned and wanted to rail against something that had no form or substance. It was an unfair fight; the cemetery could intimidate him, but he could not intimidate it back.

He stepped off the path. Headstones lay in silent, stark contemplation in neat rows. Each was a little different, bearing some sort of unique touch that turned it more into a work of art than a marker for the dead. One had ornate carvings of roses. Another had a short poem. Still another had the name inscribed in gothic font. Each one had something that made it a little fancy.

Richie thrust his hands in his pockets and walked over to a grave at the end of the row, right at the edge of the manicured grass. Near a small, scraggly tree was a very plain, low headstone of weathered gray stone. Chalk dusted the edges, the dormant grass around it barely trod upon. The name "Samuel Toldon" leapt at him from the stark engraving.

He frowned. He thought he should know that name.

Richie took a deep breath and let it go. He looked around and cursed under his breath as he saw a woman laying flowers at another grave. He waited for a few minutes, but the woman lingered, dropping to one knee and lowering her head as if in prayer.

I hate this place, Richie thought as he did the same, laying a trembling hand upon the headstone.

Reality shifted.

The wind was gone. The tree was in leaf, its shadow stretching away before ruddy sunset light that gave a crimson edge to the dark gray headstone. Before him, a partially dug grave yawned, an icy chill racing at him from the deepest end.

The sound of a shovel distracted him. Richie jumped as a clod of dirt came hurtling towards him. A broad-shouldered man stripped to his waist thrust the shovel into the ground and wiped his sun-darkened brow. "Jesus, even this late in the day its hotter'n hell," he grumbled with a trace of a Spanish accent.

"It's the last one," said his leaner companion, standing in the shade of the tree. Richie turned his head, but his gaze was instead drawn to the unadorned coffin sitting on the ground near the base of the tree.

The first one frowned as he looked at the coffin as well. "Buryin's too good for this fucker."

"Hey, c'mon now." The second one paused to light a cigarette, his dimpled cheeks making his face look even thinner than it was. He blew out a cloud of smoke and waved it away. "Have some respect for the dead."

The first one snorted. "Not like he had respect for life."

The second one shook his head. "Not for us to judge. Leave that to the man upstairs."

"If there's any justice, he'll be headed to the man downstairs. Come on, you must've heard what he did to that poor girl. I mean, he just up and strangled her right in the middle of--"

"That's what he allegedly did. Was never proven in a court of law."

"Aw, fuck the court. He freaking admitted to it."

"They never found the body."

"They got the, whatchamacallit, the genetic tests. Her hair and stuff on him."

The second one let off a long plume of smoke and flicked ashes into the dirt. "True. But there was some question as to his sanity. Probably why he killed himself."

The first one made a derisive noise. "Yeah, and prob'ly just to escape justice here on Earth."

His companion smiled. "Well, if you seem so convinced that he already has a place reserved for him right at Satan's table, I guess it's better he passed on sooner rather than later, yes?"

The first one scowled. "He coulda at least told 'em where to find the body. Give the parents something to bury. Fucking bastard."

The second one took one last long drag of his cigarette and crushed the remains into the earth with his foot. "Here, I'll take over for you for a bit."

Richie stared at the coffin as he listened. Before he realized what he was doing, he edged towards it until it now lay right at his feet. Something inside throbbed with cold, malevolent power. Curiosity and revulsion both pulled at him as he reached his hand down to it.

Richie breathed hard as his shaking fingers passed through the coffin, his eyes glazed as his mind cast lurid images of the body rising from the coffin or seizing his hand. He half-expected to feel the touch of rotting flesh as his fingers dipped further towards the remains.

Richie's breath caught in his throat as if it had been flash-frozen. A maelstrom of dark energy swirled about him like a dust devil, showering every inch of his skin with tiny pinpricks of cold like icy needles.

Had to do it ... wasn't the one ... not what I needed ...

Richie trembled. Muscles stood out on his arm in cords. The voices of the men fell away as his head swelled with horrible sensations of evil purpose.

She wanted it ... could've given it to her ... wanted to ... it wouldn't let me ...

Richie wanted to scream. Something pulled on his arm, yet he did not move. The earth under him groaned as the grave spread like a cancer, a pit taking shape under him and the coffin.

No, don't worry ... never find her ... I'll take the secret with me ... I'll die for you ...

The pit became a yawning chasm of darkness. Richie and the coffin were suspended above it, the malevolent vortex spinning faster and drawing inward, until an unholy wind roared in Richie's ears.

No one would look there ... not in the old airfield ...

Richie's blood turned to ice. His arm shook as he fought to maintain contact.

Away from the lines ... no chance for Presence ...

The coffin tipped into the pit. Darkness loomed as Richie fell with it.

No Presence ... nothing will linger ... no one will ever know ...

Richie screamed icy silence from a frozen throat.

But I'll die on the energy line ... my Presence will serve you ... you'll give me purpose ...

A hand landed on his shoulder. Richie let out a frightened yelp and spun around. A middle aged woman recoiled and snatched her hand back.

Richie stared. He was back in the present, and the woman standing in front of him was the one he had seen attending the other grave.

"I-I'm sorry," the woman stammered. "I just ... I just wanted to know if you were all right."

Richie looked around as his heart stopped pounding. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

The woman nodded. Her eyes shifted to the headstone. "Are you ... do you know ...?" Her head tilted towards the headstone, as if afraid to say the name.

Richie took a step back, feeling the need to distance himself. He looked at the ground to insure the coffin was safely back in the past. "Huh? No, not really. Just ... thought I knew the name or something."

The woman let out a relieved sigh. "Of course you wouldn't know him. You're fourteen?"

"Fifteen," Richie said with a small frown.

"Fifteen. Sorry. So you would've been only five."

"No, I don't know the fu ... the ... uh, the guy."

"Best that you don't. So terrible and tragic."

Richie glanced at the grave again. "They never found her?"

The woman shook her head, her face solemn. "The parents are still upset to this day. All they want is some closure. Just some way of being able to say goodbye to their daughter. He robbed them of that."

Richie bit his lip. "Guess the police gave up on it, huh? Right? They're not still lookin' for her."

"Oh, they still want to find her. It's still an open case. They think it could help them find the other killer."

Richie frowned. "Huh? What other killer?"

"Someone who did the same thing this one did. In that case, they had the bodies of the victims, but never found the killer. Horrible. So horrible."

An image flickered in Richie's head, a lingering memory from the deceased that uncovered one of his own. Cassie had described how she had peered into Melissa's mind and saw her transformation, how Melissa had received her power from the strange, dark spirit ...

Richie swallowed hard. "I gotta go. See ya."

He ran as fast as his feet would take him before the woman could respond.

The quiet unsettled Cassie. Either Debby would tell her she had no idea or would burden her with a terrible revelation. Or worse: tell her that she should get over herself and give into it.

"Cassie," Debby finally said in a soft voice. "Has Jason been reading Elizabeth's journal?"

"Yes, but it's taking him time to get through it. Mrs. Radson, you mentioned you had read all of it yourself. Do you remember her talking about this sort of thing?"

"Well, not about this specific situation, no. But in her later entries she does talk about sex being used to control others, but that's not quite what we have here, is it?"

"But isn't it?"

Debby shook her head. "You never mentioned anything about Heather controlling any of you outside of sex."

"As far as I know, anyway."

"So it seems her influence is limited to gaining opportunity for sex rather than using sex itself. So this is very different from what the Darkness does."

Cassie greeted this news with relief. She had toyed with the possibility in her own head but feared it was only wishful thinking. "Does she say anything else about it?"

"Yes, I recall Elizabeth mentioning the benefits she perceived from frequent sex between those that are close."

"But there's been lots of people who have said things like that who are not Witches."

"Ah, yes, Cassie, but remember that Witches like Elizabeth -- and me -- believe that sex can generate beneficial energies." Debby smiled. "My dear husband, Goddess bless him, thinks the recent increase in my, well, sexual appetite is because I find him so irresistible. I'm actually hoping that it generates enough energy to offer him more protection against the Darkness."

Cassie smiled through her blush.

"Tell Jason to look at Elizabeth's journal around 1960 or 1961. That was about where she started doing real research into the nature of sexual energy. Some of what I told you now is explained in better detail."

Cassie's smile faded. She had not heard what she really wanted to know, which was how to get Heather to stop. "But, Mrs. Radson, what should I do? Are you telling me ... a-are you saying I should ... that Ned and I should ..."

Debby shook her head. "Dear, I cannot tell you what you should or shouldn't do when it comes to intimate matters such as this. Even more so since you're underage."

"I certainly don't want to get you into trouble with the law, but--"

"It has nothing to do with legality. It's more that I feel sex is something personal and I can't make decisions like that for someone else. I can only tell you what I know and what my opinions of Heather's intentions are."

Cassie nodded but cast a helpless gaze at Debby.

Debby sighed. "I'm sorry, Cassie. It seems I have let you down."

"Oh, no, Mrs. Radson, you haven't. I mean, at least you don't seem too alarmed over what Heather is doing."

"Well, it certainly concerns me. But what is most fascinating about it is the fact that your cycles have all stopped, yet you're all sure none of you are pregnant."

"You never mentioned if there was any significance to that."

"It's possible. Many Pagans and Witches believe there is a deeper meaning to the monthly menstrual cycle, that each part somehow regulates creativity and introspection, and that it all ties back to the Goddess somehow. Cassie, so much of what has happened to all of you has had some sort of guiding hand behind it. I can't say by what or who."

Cassie nodded. So she IS telling me to give into it.

"But how you take that guidance has to be up to you. Ultimately, no one can be forced down a path that she doesn't want, regardless of Heather's influence."

"I-I can resist it, but it's very hard," Cassie said in a low voice.

"Has your arousal diminished any since you arrived here, Cassie?"

Cassie swallowed. "Not really, no."

Debby nodded and looked pained.

Cassie spread her legs across the chair to relieve the pressure. Her panties tugged into her slit as her hips slid forward, a tiny whimper escaping her lips. Her cheeks flamed. "I-I have someone I can ... well ... you know, satisfy it with, but we don't have many places we can go to do that sort of thing. It's very hard to get that sort of privacy when you're just a teenager."

"And you mentioned you won't have this house available to you past Halloween."

"I might be able to arrange something for Ned and I if I really have to, but I can't do that for Heather and the others."

As Debby looked thoughtful -- and pained -- once more, Cassie wished she had not mentioned it.

"I'm afraid I can't offer any immediate advice in that area, Cassie," Debby said.

Cassie hated herself for putting Mrs. Radson in such an awkward spot. She imagined Debby was caught between wanting to help the Harbingers and staying within the bounds of societal decorum. An adult woman simply does not offer or suggest places for underage teens to have sex. Period.

Cassie thought she should leave before she got the poor woman into any more trouble. She stood up. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Radson, I really appreciate it."

Debby stood as well. "Cassie, I trust that you and your friends will make the right decision. Please, rest assured that I do not see the hand of the Darkness here."

"That is a big help, thank you."

Debby hesitated once more. "And you need to do something about your present state."

Cassie's eyes widened. "What?"

"Your arousal is coming off you in waves, dear. I can sense it even without looking at your aura. Don't just wait for it to go away."

Cassie swallowed hard. "I-I'll try, Mrs. Radson," she said in a husky voice.

Richie's bike came to a slow stop outside the garage door. He dismounted and thrust a hand into his pocket, where the remote lay. His finger found the button and started to apply pressure, but he stopped just short of clicking it. He turned his head as if someone had called his name, but all he saw was the road and the boulder just at the edge of the trees on the other side.

The boulder was a long slab of rock, flat on the top, with a thin crack running along the side. Richie used to sit on that boulder and play fetch with the little stray dog that once frequented that street. Richie had not seen him since the House.

Richie frowned and tore his gaze from it. He wanted to block out his experience at the cemetery, but thanks to the distraction, it now it crystallized in his head. Memories that should have died with their owner found refuge in his thoughts. They were incomplete, like torn bits of parchment from an ancient scroll, snippets of emotions and scenes that had to be pieced together around gaping holes of lost history.

A sense of great anticipation and perverted lust.

A teenage girl gasping for breath near the moment of climax.

A lifeless body carried through the weeds and the darkness.

A shovelful of dirt dropped into a makeshift grave near a corrugated metal building.

A great pride in his accomplishment as he confessed to the murder.

A great sense of duty as he raised the barrel of the gun to his temple.

Richie shuddered and clenched his hands into fists. His purpose had been to deny his new power, only to return with images stronger and more disturbing that refused to leave him. A wave of nausea passed through him, and bile rose to his throat. He found nothing remotely erotic in the memory of the girl's body rocking to the rhythms of deadly sex.

He glanced at the boulder that had triggered his unwanted introspection and muttered a curse. He ran his bike to the end of the driveway and hopped on just as it careened into the street.

Melinda found another thing to hate about Heather's amplified libido: it forced her to ride her bicycle again just to ferry her sister over to the house. Her only bicycle was one bought for her two years ago in what was her mother's idea of what a young girl should be riding. It was bright pink, with reflectors shaped like hearts, and rainbow streamers attached to the ends of the handlebar.

It was also built specifically to handle a passenger, as if implying an obligation for Melinda to give rides to Heather on demand. Once she had figured this out, Melinda refused to ride it.

By the time they reached the small park near the house, Heather began whispering erotic comments into Melinda's ear. The front wheel of the bike wobbled as Melinda steered it into the park, whimpering as each bump jarred the seat against her pussy and squished her panties against her slit.

The bike teetered as Melinda brought it to a stop. "You almost made me crash this thing, you stupid bubblehead," she said. She dismounted, and a small, dark stain appeared in the crotch of her jeans. As she chained up the bike, Heather came up from behind her and slid her hands around her sister's waist.

"Uhhn ... s-stop it ..." Melinda gasped, panting as she struggled with trembling hands to secure the lock to the chain.

"Stay nice and horny for me, baby sis," Heather whispered.

Melinda closed the lock and leaned against the pole, her body shaking. Jason arrived a few seconds later. He looked with concern at Melinda but said nothing as he chained up his bike. Heather smiled and ran a single finger down his back. Jason let out a shuddering breath, his cock jumping from the partial hardness at which it had remained since leaving the bus to a full, aching erection straining against his briefs and jeans.

Heather giggled. "That was easy. Okay, come on, let's go."

From the back of the park, they entered the green belt that skirted the east edge of town, and from there into the back yard of the mansion, then into the house itself through the kitchen.

Jason and Melinda staggered into the living room, too aroused to speak. A husky sigh of delight passed Heather's lips. She enjoyed this control too much. She had no choice. No matter how horny she made them, her need was greater still.

She draped her hands over their crotches. Melinda mewled and shoved her hip towards Heather. Jason moaned and trembled, and he rubbed the bulge in his crotch against Heather's fingers.

Heather had no need to speak her commands to them. She removed her hands, and they began to strip.

Too much control, Heather thought as she pulled off her blouse. But I have to. I have to ... with all of them ... so I can ...

Her thoughts refused to coalesce any further around that point. A secret lay somewhere in her head, hidden from even her own consciousness, but now something new accompanied it: a sense that she would understand in due time.

As soon as Heather had undressed, Heather and Melinda came to her. They pressed their naked bodies into her, moaning and panting, clutching at her, trembling in silent plea for her attention.

Heather wrapped an arm around each and lowered all of them to the floor. She pulled Melinda close and pressed one of her breasts to her sister's face. Melinda's lips found the nipple and pulled it inside her mouth, sucking and licking with skilled and insistent twists of her tongue. Heather opened her legs, her thighs quivering. She lay her hand behind Jason's head. Anticipation became soft, wet pleasure as his tongue flicked at her swollen clit.

Heather closed her eyes and moaned, her body shivering with both sexual delight and need. Jason and Melinda alone would not satisfy her. She needed Diane as well.

She pulled Melinda to her and mashed her breast into her sister's face. Her hand pushed Jason's face into her pussy.

More ... please, I need more ...

Melinda and Jason trembled. Melinda panted into Heather's breast. A drop of moisture fell from her pussy and into the carpet. Jason's cock glistened with a dab of moisture on its purple-tinged head.

Heather arched her back. I wish Cassie ... or Ned ... or ...

Ned remained quiet. He was learning the richly nuanced rituals involved in having a girlfriend. He could sense when it was best not to talk, as anything that came out of his mouth, no matter how well-intentioned, would be mangled by what he called "the upset girlfriend filter."

Yet it collided head-on with his natural instinct as a male teenager to pounce on the opportunity of a horny girlfriend.

Normally, Ned didn't like Diane as a passenger. She and Cassie always wound up immersed in a conversation where Ned could not get a word in edgewise. This time it would have been a boon and given him the excuse he needed to avoid an awkward moment with Cassie. This time, however, his dilemma became unsurmountable when silence reigned instead. Worse, Diane squirmed much like Cassie did, and her breathing was labored. Ned caught a glimpse of a nipple tenting her sweater. His cock twitched in response, which he tried to ignore.

The limo pulled to the curb outside the park. "All right, here you go, Diane," Cassie said in a crisp voice. "You'll have to get a taxi or a bus back home, as I can't wait here for you."

Diane appeared about to say something when Cassie opened the door. Harry sighed and withdrew his hand from his door handle and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Cassie got out and stepped aside. Diane slid over and followed. She glanced towards the park, her breath passing her lips as a husky sigh. "Can I talk to you for a moment before you go, Cassie?"

Cassie stiffened and took a quick, deep breath. "Okay, go ahead."

"This is sort of private."

"Ned, Harry, I'll be just a minute." She slammed the door shut and marched towards the front gate of the park. Diane followed, her shoulders hunched. She drew up short when Cassie whirled around to face her. "What is it, Diane?"

Diane hesitated and wrung her hands. Heather was a siren call in her head, enticing her to the house and wetting her pussy more each minute she resisted. "Cassie, are you mad at me?"

Cassie stared in surprise. "What? No, Diane, of course not."

"You just looked really upset the whole trip here, and it got worse as we got closer. I thought maybe I had--"

"No, Diane, it's not you." Her voice quavered. Her legs trembled as her pussy became steamy. Her panties felt plastered to her sex. "I'm just ... i-it's just what's Heather doing, that's all. I'm not happy with it."

Diane nodded. "Did Mrs. Radson have anything to say about it?"

"She doesn't think it's anything evil, but that's really about it." Cassie was not about to give Diane the other details right then, or her thoughts about sex would cascade into mounting lust.

"Well, that's a relief, at least." Diane visibly shivered. "Wow, I-I can feel it even this far away, like Heather's trying to call to me or something."

Cassie's nipples poked against her blouse and tingling with each little rub against the cups of her bra from just her breathing.

"Is it happening to you, too?" Diane asked.

Cassie swallowed. "A little. You ... you better get going, Diane."

Diane nodded, then squeezed her thighs together. Moisture squished loud enough for Cassie to hear. "God, I h-hope I can make it that far," she moaned before dashing into the park.

Cassie waited until Diane was out of sight before she let out a loud moan and fell against the side of the gate. Her body trembled, and she wrapped her arms around her as if to contain her sexual heat. Her arms pushed up her breasts, her bra cups far too confining. Her nipples throbbed with her heartbeat.

In the limo, Harry raised an eyebrow and started to open the door. Ned bolted out of the car ahead of him. "I'll check on her, driver dude, don't sweat it."

Ned was away before Harry's door was halfway open. Harry slammed it closed and muttered something under his breath about early retirement.

Ned jogged up to Cassie, and the words "Hey, babe, you okay?" were barely out of his mouth before she turned and clutched him.

Ned wrapped his arms around her in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Cassie buried her face in his chest, her breath heavy and warm against his jacket. She was quivering like a branch in the wind, and her panting was just as loud.

"Cassie, you okay?" Ned repeated, having no idea what else to say.

Cassie raised her shaking hands to his chest, her fingers curling as she fought against her raw desires and lost. Her cheeks as warm as her pussy, she rubbed her crotch against his. Ned didn't say a word, but one small intake of breath and a swift hardness told her it had the desired effect.

"Jeez, babe, are you ...?"

"Ned, are your parents home?" Cassie panted. "P-Please tell me they're out."

"Uh ... yeah, I think so. Dad's at work, and Mom's prolly out with--"

"I don't care where they are, just that they're not home."

Ned swallowed, his cock so rigid it ached. "Babe, I'm not sure ya can wait til we get there. Mebbe we should just get a bedroom at the house and--"

"No!" Cassie exploded into his chest. She let out another, ragged sigh. Her sex burned with the desire to do just what Ned suggested, so her pussy could get pleased in far more ways than he alone could do. "No ... your place ... please ..."

"Okay, okay, but yer gonna hafta calm down a bit or Harry will be givin' ya the evil eye."

Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. She pushed against his chest. Ned eased and let her go. She looked up at him with eyes so dark with lust that Ned nearly flinched. "I'll try, but I just ... I-I'll try."

She had almost said "but I just want your cock inside me now." She had avoided the words, but not the thought, and now it wouldn't leave her head. She thought her pussy could not get any more wet until she felt a trickle down the inside of one thigh. "Oh goodness," she moaned.

"All right, let's get ya back to the limo," Ned said, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking her away from the gate. "And if Harry asks, I really do got a parental unit waitin' ta chaperon us."

Cassie nodded against his shoulder, not daring to speak as she was afraid of what might tumble past her lips before she could stop it.

Richie blasted into the wind as he turned west. The cold against his face helped mask the lingering chill in his bones from his vision at the cemetery. His breath trembled with the string of curses that had not stopped since he left his house.

He was stupid for doing this. He shouldn't give a shit. Ten years was long enough for people to get over it and get on with life.

Yeah, just like I shouldn't care about my Dad.

His head snapped back and forth as he searched each side of the street. Car horns blared when he strayed too far from the edge of the sidewalk. Finally, he spotted one the third block over.

He slowed, then dodged across the street when the traffic had cleared enough for him to pass. He jerked the handlebars to pop his front wheel up onto the sidewalk. Someone else approached his goal, and he swerved the bike around and shuddered to a halt between the old lady and the phone booth.

"I beg your pardon!" the elderly woman cried.

"I gotta use it, okay?" Richie said.

"Young man, I was clearly here first before you--"

"Dry up and blow away, you old bat."

The woman gasped and staggered away, as if the words themselves had been blows.

Richie frowned in guilt as he watched the elderly woman totter away. He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small handful of change, cursing when two coins fell between his trembling fingers. He picked up the receiver and jammed the needed coins into the slot. He cursed again when he realized he didn't have the number, and muttered as he combed through the tattered telephone book tethered to the side of the booth.

"C'mon you lazy fuckers," Richie muttered as the phone rang at the other end. "Put down the fucking doughnuts and--"

"Haven Police Department," came a woman's voice.

"Listen to me, okay? I'm only gonna say this once."

"Pardon?"

"Toldon. The fucker that strangled the teen in the picnic area ten years ago. I can tell you where the body is."

A pause. "Sir, let me transfer you to--"

"No, don't, just listen, okay?! Look in the old airfield ... near ... " Richie paused. Memory that was not his own slithered though his head. Movement at the corner of the block caught his attention. The elderly lady he had scared off was flagging down a police officer. "Near the maintenance hangar. By the metal pole. Got it?"

Another pause, then a whispered " ... by metal pole ..." and then louder, "Sir, you really should speak with--"

Richie slammed the phone down. He hopped on his bike and ducked down a side alley just as the elderly lady pointed in his direction.

Waves of heat rolled over Diane as she approached the back door from the green belt. By the time she reached the kitchen, she was panting hard, and her sex burned with intense, liquid desire.

She stepped past the threshold and stared through a haze of her own lust as she approached the living room. The air was heady with the musk of perspiration and arousal, both male and female. Melinda knelt before Jason, her head bobbing on his cock, her hand moving between her legs with a frantic urgency. Diane's pussy ached at the sight despite her orientation.

"Diane," said a husky voice.

Diane turned her head. Heather sat on the sofa, her legs spread, pussy wet and oozing. Diane trembled from the look of dark hunger in Heather's eyes, but did nothing to deter her from approaching her lover, her gaze locked on Heather's beautiful, soaked pussy.

Diane dropped to all fours before her lover's spread legs, but Heather draped her hand over her mound.

"Strip for me," Heather breathed. "Slowly."

Diane struggled to her feet, unsure that her legs would hold her. She shed her blouse and gasped as her pussy throbbed in a small orgasm. The pleasure distracted her too much to continue until it ebbed. Her jeans dropped down her legs, and she whimpered as another gentle climax washed over her. She fell to one knee and panted until the pleasure crescendoed and waned.

"One for each piece of clothing you remove," Heather said with a wicked smile.

Her bra came off next. She hugged herself and moaned as her pussy throbbed, each orgasm leaving her wanting more. She pulled off her panties stepped out of them, her legs trembling in anticipation. Her knees shook as she rose and strained, then dropped her to the floor when her pussy blossomed again in climax.

Heather withdrew her hand. "Now you can lick me."

Diane surged forward. She wrapped her arms around Heather's thighs and pulled her face to her lover's pussy. Heather gasped and writhed as Diane's tongue and lips slid over aroused flesh, pressed tight to her slick mound.

Diane suddenly shuddered moaned into Heather's folds, the vibration sending a shiver of delight through Heather. Diane's hips were tugged downward, until her slit rested against an eager mouth. Melinda moaned into Diane's depths as Jason speared Melinda's pussy with his cock.

Pleasure rippled into Diane's body from beyond where Melinda's mouth met her needful pussy. She knew Jason was fucking Melinda not just from the rhythmic movements of Melinda's body between her legs. Somehow she had sensed it, as if some of Melinda's emotions were rising up into her.

Diane twirled her tongue against Heather's clit in the way she knew drove Heather wild. Heather gasped and trembled hard, her pleasure spiking, her breath ragged. Diane's hips squirmed as her pleasure suddenly rose and strained, as if Melinda had done the same thing to her.

Except Melinda hadn't.

Diane was drowning in a pool of liquid hot emotion, and not all of it was her own.

"Will your latest acquisition be ready by the end of November, Victor?"

Victor smiled as he turned in his chair towards the window, where the trees still waved in a stiff breeze. "I am confident that she will be," he said into his cell phone.

"You had suggested there were problems."

"Nothing that I cannot resolve."

"My client is very concerned. He has many important men that need to be kept happy. He is counting on you, Victor."

"I have never disappointed," said Victor. "Never. Those very same important men you speak of will tell you this."

"This is true. Very well. I will convey to him that he can make the initial deposit to your account. That was two hundred fifty thousand American dollars, yes?"

"Correct. And another two hundred fifty when I deliver her."

"Very well. I will contact you again if there are any difficulties." The speaker lapsed into his native dialect as he said, "Good bye and good day."

Victor answered the same. He snapped his cell phone closed and tucked it away. The impatient rumble that had been growing in the back of his mind now rolled to the front.

They are gathering again for sex.

Victor folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, still watching the sway of the trees.

I know they are doing it. Cassie Kendall and Ned Lussander almost joined them, I can feel as much. Richie Gardner is hard to sense now. I'm not sure where he is.

Victor said nothing. No words would soothe the agitation of the Darkness, save to let it rant. He needed to know what was the mind of his allies as well as his enemies.

I cannot tell what else may be happening. They are too far from the lines. I would punish Sandra Gardner for this if I didn't need the threat to hold over Richie's head.

Victor had to respond. The Darkness was agitated by his lack of comment. "The circle cannot be complete so long as at least one part is kept away."

As he had predicted, it was not mollified. I can't take the chance. Get me that Book, Victor. Get it before they learn what it is and how to use it. Get it before they can use it to destroy me.

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