Chapter 5

"Richie."

His hand alighted on one of her fleshy orbs. Sarah clenched her teeth and tried to suppress a moan as he lightly squeezed the warm, pliant flesh. He hooked a finger under the cup and pulled it up. Sarah bit her lip and whimpered again as her breast popped out of the cup and rolled against her chest.

"Richie!"

He smiled at her. Sarah made one last attempt to wrench her gaze from him as his fingers touched the hard, tight nipple, sending a shock wave of pleasure through her body...

"RICHIE!"

Richie abruptly wrenched himself to the side with a frustrated groan. "What the fuck is it?!" he bellowed back, eyes squinting at the light.

"Phone call!"

"What?? Tell 'em to taking a fucking flying leap into hell!"

"I'm not your fucking secretary! Get your ass down here!"

Richie groaned again, kicked viciously at the tangled sheet, and turned to sit on the side of the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock: it was just short of eight on a Saturday morning.

"Richie!" his mother shouted again.

"Yeah, fine, okay! Can I fucking get dressed first?!"

He heard a grumbled curse in reply, but Sandra finally conceded the shouting match.

Richie cursed as well as he shot to his feet, his briefs tented by his stiff cock. It had been that dream again, but this time he had seen a lot more detail. And it was actually getting interesting before his mother had awoken him.

He kicked at one of his sneakers, sending it bouncing across the floor and banging against the dresser.

Richie figured he knew who it was. It was probably one of the other Harbingers nagging him about meeting for lunch when he already knew from the flurry of emails the night before. He threw on his jeans, trying to will his cock into growing flaccid again to make it easier, but his thoughts kept returning to his hot dream. He muttered another curse as he carefully pulled his zipper up over his swollen member and grabbed a shirt on the way out.

He put on his shirt as he bounded down the stairs, until he came to an irritated Sandra Gardner standing by the phone in the kitchen. Richie stomped over to her, his shirt still only half-buttoned. He held out his hand.

Sandra glared at him and did not relinquish the phone.

Richie frowned. "What?"

"Why is she calling you, Richie?" Sandra demanded.

Richie shrugged. "Guess I'm just so freakin' popular. Big man on campus, all that shit."

"Can you stop being a smartass for ten seconds?"

"Can you stop asking me dumb questions?"

Sandra's face drew into a scowl, but there was a flicker of hurt in her eyes. "Listen, don't mess with this anymore. You left all this behind when that damn nurse left. Don't screw it up now."

Richie gave her a confused look as Sandra slapped the phone into his hand and headed upstairs.

As he watched her go, he wondered now how much the Darkness knew about the Harbingers. Was that her way of getting him to leave them? Well, he had no intention of doing that. Now he was more motivated than ever to remain, if just to spite his mother.

Richie brought the phone to his ear. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Richie ... I need to talk to you."

Richie froze. After a long pause, he said tentatively, "Miss Davis?"

"Yes, this is Linda Davis."

Richie had no idea what to say. Was he in trouble? No, her voice didn't sound angry. It was upset, but not angry.

"Richie?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, I can talk. What about?"

"I ... not over the phone, I don't feel right about it. Can you come over? Please?"

"What, now?"

"As soon as you can."

"Why?"

There was a pause. He heard an exhaled breath, like a sigh. "Because we need to get something straight."

Richie frowned. "Listen, I'm not comin' over if you're just going to whale on me about yesterday, okay?"

"No, Richie, it's not that," said Linda. "Look, this is very hard to talk about on the phone. I promise, I'm not going to yell at you. In fact ... I want to ... I want to arrange something with you."

Richie's eyebrows rose. "Wait, what? Arrange something?"

"Yes, I need to... " Linda stopped and sighed in exasperation. "I need to talk to you in person. Please don't make me say anything more."

Richie paused, then slowly grinned. "I'm making you, huh?"

"Just come over, and..."

"So I did do something to you yesterday. Admit it, I did."

A long pause. "Yes," Linda said in a tiny voice.

"You were starting to get horny, right? Just from me talking to you."

"Stop it," Linda said firmly, reasserting some of her authority. "That's enough. I won't discuss any more of this until you're here. I'll see you later."

She hung up before Richie could say another word.

Richie's lips curled into a satisfied smug as he hung up the phone. His cock hardened again in his pants, but this time he welcomed it. So he still had some kind of influence over her, enough for her to want him over. If he played his cards right, he could have another sweet little setup.

But if his fellow Harbingers found out about it, it would be all over.

Richie's smile faded and he pounded a fist against the wall near the phone. He'd never get them to accept it, not with Jason letting Melinda mouth off whenever she wanted. Maybe if he could convince them that it was her idea. After all, she had called him. What was he supposed to do, just tell her no?

Richie frowned. Yes, that's exactly what they would tell him. But he didn't want this for the control or the power. It was simply that Linda Davis was hot, and he wanted to fuck her. That was all. He heard stories all the time about teenage boys doing it with older female teachers. It wouldn't be all that different. He was always mystified as to why the boy was considered a "victim" in those cases.

"Shit!" he declared as he remembered that the Harbingers were supposed to meet for lunch.

Richie's hands clenched. He had to go see Linda. He could not let this opportunity pass. Besides, he had plenty of time. Cassie wasn't going to send the cab to pick him up until after ten.

He ran up the stairs and grabbed his jacket. He was just about to turn back towards the stairs when his mother's voice came from down the hall. "Hey, where the hell are you going?"

"Out," Richie said without turning around and without stopping.

"Hey!" Sandra raced up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. "I said, where are you going?"

"Come off it, Mom, I go out every Saturday and you don't give a shit where I go!"

"You're going to see Linda Davis, aren't you?"

Richie scowled. "Yeah, so? What's it to you?"

Sandra stared at him. "You haven't learned anything!"

Richie rolled his eyes. "Mom, I don't fuckin' control her, okay?! I don't have it anymore. She not my slave."

Sandra folded her arms. "Yeah, but she wants you over at her house."

Richie fumed. His eyes darted away from her face, just so he could remind himself about the Dark Aura surrounding her. She was with the Darkness. She was not his mother, not anymore. He didn't have to answer to her.

"Yeah, and maybe she wants me cuz she just wants me. Ever think of that? Every think maybe she enjoyed some of what happened, huh? Maybe she enjoyed cumming so much, or sucking my cock. Or you think I don't know how to fuck a girl good? That it?"

Sandra was taken aback by the frankness of Richie's language. He had always been foul-mouthed, but this was the first time he had spoken in such a blatantly sexual manner.

Sandra wanted to tell him this was wrong. She wanted to explain to him how this was going to give the Darkness more fodder in the long run. But every time the thought tried to express itself, she instead felt a heat in her sex. The more she struggled, the more her pussy tingled.

Richie's eyes widened, and he took a step back. The Aura had become agitated suddenly and was wrapping itself more tightly around Sandra's body. He felt a queer sensation in his stomach as he saw Sandra's expression soften, and a sultry look come to her eyes.

Sandra's pussy grew hot and wet. She shifted her weight, and her hips tilted provocatively.

"All right, Richie," she finally said, her voice breathy and quavering. "You can go see her."

Richie had seen this before. He could recognize it for what it was, and it sent a chill through him.

She gave him an odd little smile. "Go have some fun with her."

Richie nodded slowly, then turned and fled from the house.

Sandra started to pant as the front door closed behind Richie. She turned from the top of the stairs, her legs trembling as she staggered back to the bedroom. She didn't quite make it. Her pussy convulsed in orgasm, dropping her to her knees, and then to all fours.

A voice said in her head: You've been a good little girl.

She moaned and shuddered, fluid trickling down the inside of one thigh.

Much better than you were the other day, it continued in a mocking tone. When you barely put any effort into stopping him from seeing his friends.

"Uhhn ... I c-couldn't... " Sandra panted. She arched her back as her pussy rose and strained at the edge of climax. She whimpered in unsatisfied need. "Too ... t-too suspicious..."

I'll decide that. But no matter. He's distracted now. That will suffice.

Sandra's pussy spasmed as she crested into another orgasm. She collapsed to the floor, writhing and moaning.

She couldn't hold out against it anymore. The Harbingers had bought her some time. When Nyssa had been defeated, she had felt the Darkness ease. It never left her completely. It was more like the deepness of night giving way to the twilight that preceded the dawn. For awhile, she could have thoughts that were her own, that the Darkness was not privy to, without resorting to any trickery.

Now her strength was giving out. The skies of her psyche had darkened. It was again approaching midnight once more. The cravings had overcome her will again.

She welcomed them. She couldn't let it find out. She couldn't let it know about the naughty thoughts that had passed through her mind during those waning hours of twilight.

Pleasure, my slave, the Darkness taunted her. That is all that matters to you. That's what you live for. Let me show you.

Panting heavily, she crawled back into the bedroom and let the Darkness reward her for her good behavior.

"Bill, do you have to go to the office today?" asked Debby Radson, wringing her hands before letting them plop into her lap with a frustrated sigh.

Bill Radson paused to glance at himself in the mirror over the dresser, smoothing back his sandy-blonde hair as much as possible. He finished buttoning up his shirt before turning to his wife, who sat on the edge of the bed dressed in a flowing robe of deep blue. "Not quite the office," he said in a slow drawl. He stepped over to her and ran his fingers through her chestnut hair. "I have to head on-site today."

Debby smiled wanly, her hand reaching for his. She was grateful for the touch even as upset as she was. "You only just started that job, and it seems like you spend so much time there."

Bill squeezed her hand. "The hospital expansion is a big project, love, and has some serious money behind it. They say jump, my company says how high."

"Yes, but we only just got back from my sister's, and..."

"Well, that's part of the reason. I have to fix a screwup that happened while I was gone before it gets out of hand."

Debby sighed, her sea-green eyes cloudy and despondent.

Bill sighed. "You still worried about Susan?"

Debby stood up. She cinched the robe closed around her waist, pulling it taut against her wide though gracefully curved hips. Her breasts jiggled freely under the looser fabric around her torso, giving fleeting glimpses of the plump flesh and an occasional flash of a nipple.

Compared to her husband's lean build, the rest of Debby looked plump as well. It gave the illusion of her being larger than him, even though he was taller by a good six inches. She looked up into his eyes with a frown marring her otherwise pretty face. "Yes, I'm worried about her, Bill. I've been worried about her since we got back. I've told you why."

Debby shook her head and stepped away from her husband. Bill's gaze strayed to the outline of her backside against the fabric, steadfastly ignoring the large, silver pentagram sewn into the back of her robe.

Debby was a practicing Pagan, and a self-proclaimed Witch. Bill was neither of these things. He was not particularly religious at all, and he normally had no problems with Debby wishing to pursue her own beliefs. But that was always with the unspoken caveat that Debby did not base any decisions concerning the family on her "magic."

Debby spun around, her robe twirling open around her legs and flashing her thighs at him for a second. "Why do you think I'm dressed this way this morning, Bill? I need to seek some answers. I'm hoping for some guidance from the Goddess. Yes, I know you don't believe in that stuff, but..."

"Hey, easy, easy," Bill said gently, stepping up to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and sighed. "Look, please ... just consider the possibility that she's being a typical teenage daughter. Didn't you tell me she lost her boyfriend or something?"

"Well ... that's what the last reading told me..." Debby said sheepishly, averting her eyes.

Bill simply nodded, deciding not to call her to task for trying to read too much out of a Tarot deck.

She looked at him again with pleading eyes. "Bill, she'll barely talk to me anymore, even when I try to ask her questions."

"Look, love, what good will me being home today do? She responds to me even less."

"I just wanted some moral support, that's all."

"Honey, you have it. Just promise me not to try to give her any life advice based on..."

Debby sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know, I know. At this point I'll be glad to know what's going on. I just want to know what's been bothering her this past week."

Debby already had her own fears about what was happening to Susan, but she couldn't discuss it with him. He wouldn't understand how she could feel the strange, sinister energies surrounding their daughter. Or how sometimes, when she was practicing her magic in sight of Susan, she thought she could see the barest flicker of a terrible, inky-black miasma cocooning Susan's body.

Bill gave her a small smile. "Well, if you figure out how to do it, you should let the world know. You'll be famous."

Debby forced a smile at his joke. He took this to mean that he had satisfactorily calmed her down. He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips. He truly did hope that his wife figured out what was up with Susan. Perhaps then she would relax and they could go back to having sex again.

Debby was normally rather uninhibited in bed. In his limited (and often erroneous) knowledge of Paganism, he believed her Pagan beliefs were responsible for her intense sexual proclivities. Thus he had no intention of discouraging her from practicing her faith if it meant more sex.

And he found her voluptuousness to be rather erotic.

He turned away from her and headed back to the dresser, where he picked up his hard hat. "I'll try not to be too late, hon," he said, turning around. "I should be back by dinner."

Debby nodded without saying a word. She wished she could tell him the real reason she was so worried. She had discovered only that morning that the pendant was missing. It had been there before they had taken their trip. The only explanation was that it had been removed while they were gone, and Susan was the only suspect.

She felt guilty for not having checked on it before now, which lead to even more guilt over not having taken the time to explain to Susan the pendant's history and its importance. Debby had thought that Susan needed to mature a little more before she could handle the responsibility.

Bill smiled again, nodded, and headed out.

Debby wandered over to the dresser. Her eyes fell upon two pictures, hinged together. On the left was a black and white photo of a beautiful teenage girl with luxurious dark hair and bright, inquisitive eyes. Her smile seemed to brighten the frame itself. On the right was a color photo, waves of dark brown now streaked with gray, the smile more subdued, and the eyes tired.

A tiny plaque on the left picture read: "1944." The one on the right read: "1978."

Debby's eyes traced the lines of a chain that hung from the younger girl's neck. Whatever lay at the end of it was cut off from the picture. But Debby knew what it was. It was the same thing that -- until recently -- lay hidden beneath a false bottom in a drawer of the dresser.

Debby shivered in fear. Susan had known about the existence of the pendant, but Debby had never revealed where she kept it. Which meant there was only one way that Susan could have found it.

The pendant had told her.

"I got it, Mom, it's for me!" Jason called out as he leapt off the bed and snatched the phone from the hook. "Hello?"

"Hi, Jason!" Cassie said cheerfully, and then carefully waited.

Jason yanked open a drawer on his desk. "Hey, Cassie. What's up? Need some help with that assignment again?"

Sitting inside the desk was a tiny circuit board with a single glowing red LED, thin wires snaking towards the back of the drawer. Halfway through his sentence, the light winked out.

"Yes, I need help with chapters..."

"We're clear, Cassie," said Jason in a lower voice. He dashed over to the door and closed it. "No one is listening in."

Jason had wired up the small circuit during the summer when he first saw the Dark Aura around his father. It would tell him if someone was still listening in on the other line. He couldn't take any chances that the Darkness might recruit his father to eavesdrop on Jason's phone calls. He ran back to the desk and kept an eye on that light as Cassie spoke again.

"I just wanted to check if you were still okay to go to lunch today."

"Yeah, looks like it. Since it started getting colder, my Dad doesn't want to barbecue anymore. Plus he's involved in some big construction project at the hospital. New wing or something like that. You talk to the others yet?"

Cassie sighed. "All but one."

"Who?"

"Richie."

Jason sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "But the others can make it, right?"

"Yes. Heather said her mother was trying to keep them in, but from the sound of it, I don't think they're going to listen no matter what punishment she threatens them with."

Jason hated the idea that Heather and Melinda would be in perpetual dire straits with their mother. Jason no longer tried calling Melinda on the phone, knowing full well that Penny Sovert would do everything in her power to keep them apart. He tried not to be angry with her. He knew from the patterns on Penny's Aura that she was a slave to the Darkness, and not a willing one.

"Okay, we'll just meet without Richie," Jason said, an edge in his voice.

"Jason, all his mother would tell me was that he wasn't home. Maybe it's nothing. He said in his email last night that he'd be there when I send the cab for him."

"I'll believe it when I see it. You sure his mother didn't say anything else?"

"No, and I didn't want to push it, knowing what I do about her."

"I don't think she's as bad as Mrs. Sovert."

"Richie seems to think so."

Jason had the impulse to spit "screw what Richie thinks," but managed to bite back his words. He fumed for a few moments, taking a few deep breaths until the urge to rant had passed.

His attempts to understand Richie's position -- as Cassie was often fond of pleading when the others got angry with him -- were rapidly failing. He could see Richie trying to improve, but something was nagging at him that it was simply not enough.

Maybe Melinda was right about him all along. Jason used to feel guilty for not doing more to help Richie's mother, but now wanted to wash his hands of the both of them. Richie was becoming more of a liability than an asset.

"All right, we'll see if he shows," Jason said curtly.

"I'm sure he'll show, Jason," said Cassie. "See you in a bit."

"Okay. Later, Cassie."

Richie raced down Green Avenue on his bike as if the devil were at his back.

In a way, this was true, except it took the form of his own memories. Jason had chased him down this street only three weeks ago, trying to stop Richie from completing the enslavement of his teacher. The words Jason had spoken -- as well as his own words to Jason -- now came back to him with unusually sharp clarity.