Chapter 27

Jason threw the book-bag onto his bed and wondered if someone else should take up the mantel of responsibility of guarding the Book. With a look of disgust he yanked the book-bag open and grasped the Book in both hands. He drew it from its confines as he stepped back from the bed.

Soft light bathed his face in golden radiance. The glowing inlaid symbol on the cover reflected in his wide and shocked eyes. He threw the Book down on the bed, but the glow remained.

Jason stared at the Book and willed his hands into grasping it again. They did after a pause, as if expecting the Book to burn his fingers. He put the Book on the floor and kicked it under the bed. Golden light flooded over the floor.

His heart raced. The Book had never done this before. He thrust his hand into his pocket and curled his fingers around the pendant fragment. When no other course of action would come to him, he withdrew it from his pocket and slipped it around his neck. He dropped to his knees and retrieved the Book.

You are free.

"What?" Jason said. "Free from what?"

You have strength.

Could the Book even hear him? He realized this could be the equivalent of a recording.

You have force of will.

Jason didn't feel like it, not after what he had almost done, unless it referred to his link with the Harbingers. Was it sensing the strength he could call on from the others now? He could not claim credit for that.

You have humility.

Jason's head jerked back. Was it reading his thoughts after all?

And now you can have access to my true power.

Jason had the urge to drop the Book again. "I don't want your power. That's why I stopped using..."

He trailed off as he realized what the Book had said. True power.

But your link to me is inadequate. It is broken and exhausted. You require another.

"I don't understand. Do you mean the pendant? I don't have anything else like it."

You require a symbol of your power. A symbol of magic.

"But I..."

A symbol of your beliefs.

Jason fell silent. He cradled the pendant fragment in his hand as an idea formed.

Place it upon the symbol inscribed in my cover, and the two will be united.

Just after the incident with Melissa, Mrs. Radson had spoken with Jason after school and given him a pentacle pendant. The only purpose was for Jason's mother to find it and throw it away so she could feel she was doing her motherly duty in protecting her son from that horrible Pagan influence. Audrey had played her part well, thus allowing Jason to avoid explaining the true purpose of the visit.

His mother could not abide having it inside her house, even in the wastepaper basket. She had tossed it into the garbage can that Henry used for yard waste. But by then the first snow of the season had come, and thus little more yard work had to be done.

He remembered what he had read about the pentacle symbol. Contrary to popular belief, it was not an inherent symbol of evil. In some pagan circles, the five-pointed star represented the human form, and its orientation reflected, roughly, the belief system of the person. Pointed up was spiritual over physical. Pointed down was physical over spiritual.

Melissa's pendant pointed down.

The one Mrs. Radson had given him pointed up.

Jason grabbed his jacket and draped it over the Book to mute its light and shoved it under the bed. He raced out the door and halfway down the stairs before he caught himself and slowed. Nevertheless, his mother emerged from the kitchen, tying an apron around her waist. "That was good timing, Jason, as I was just about to--"

"I have ten more minutes, Mom."

Audrey fell silent. She folded her arms, her eyes icy.

"You said twenty minutes. I promise I'll be in then."

"And what is so important it has to be done now?"

Dammit, another lie. "I need to go into the garage and look at my bike. I was thinking of getting something for it and wanted to check the size."

"And must you do that now?"

"Well ... I ... Ten more minutes, Mom, you said--"

"Fine! Do what you want! But if you're a minute later than that -- and now it's nine minutes and counting -- you're grounded for two weeks. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mom."

Audrey spun on her heel and retreated in a huff.

Jason ran into the garage and flicked on the light. To his relief, the garbage can had not been emptied yet. He sifted through the bits of broken branches and pieces of neighbor's shingles deposited in the yard from the last windstorm until light finally glinted off metal. He glanced at the door before he snatched the pendant and stuffed it into his pocket.

He had to resist running up the stairs. Breathing hard from both exertion and anxiety, he made it to his room and rushed towards the bed. He pulled the Book out and recoiled when he yanked the jacket off it. The glow was as bright as his lamp.

With a trembling hand he withdrew the pentacle pendant from his pocket. He held it between his fingers with it pointed away from him.

"Up, it's pointed up," Jason breathed. "Up. Not down, okay? Up."

He lay the pendant against the glowing symbol on the Book. As he withdrew his hand, a flash like lightning illuminated the room in sharp amber brilliance. The golden rays turned back on themselves, drawing into a swirling disk about the pendant, until a single stylized eye of gold was superimposed on both the pendant and the Book symbol.

The glow faded, and the Book became quiescent.

Jason paused another moment before reaching for the pendant. The metal shone with a dazzling silver gleam, as if the pewter had been transmuted into something more resilient.

His hands hovered above it for another uncertain moment. He grasped it by the chain instead. Even its tiny links sparkled like polished silver. He slipped the chain around his neck and picked up the Book before he could lose his nerve.

The voice came to him at once, its confidence and strength evident even in the brevity of its single statement.

The Book is revealed.

Jason remained quiet for a few more seconds, expecting the voice to have more to say. He set the Book down and said in a clear voice, "Show me the Rite of Power."

The Book stirred and opened. Pages slithered as if alive, until the stark black script of the Rite flowed across the open pages. The text seemed to have even more frightening life to them than they had before, as if the words themselves had a rudimentary, terrible intelligence.

So was this it? All this just to uncover this spell again?

"Show me a spell to control a woman's arousal," Jason announced.

The Book did not move.

Jason frowned. "Show me a simple enslavement spell."

The Book was still.

Jason turned the pages to a random spot between the Rite and the end of the Book. His eyes widened as they tracked across text two centuries old. He turned to another random spot and read. His mouth fell open.

"Sh-show me ... show me a spell to ... to concentrate power along a force line."

The pages flipped in mad abandon as if eager to obey their new master. The inky black text of the spell lay burned into the pages.

"Show me a spell to tap power from a line of force."

Flipflipflip...

Jason's throat clicked when he swallowed. "Show me a spell to manipulate the energy inside a line of--"

Flipflipflip...

"Show me a spell to redirect energy from--"

Flipflipflip...

"Or to concentrate energy from a line in one spot to--"

Flipflipflip...

"Or ... if ... sh-show me ... show me a spell to move a line of--"

Flipflipflip...

Jason slammed the Book shut and shoved it under the bed. His heart hammered so hard that his chest ached. He gripped the pendant to stop his hand from shaking.

Now he understood why that one spell had seemed so out of place with the rest. It was not a Book of mind control spells, it was a book of energy line manipulation, a virtual instruction manual for the same lines of force that gathered at the node and gave the Darkness its power.

Still trembling, Jason rose to his feet and glanced at the clock. "Oh, shit!"

He broke for the door and barreled out of his room. He bounded down the stairs and flew threw the dining room, coming to a stop just as his mother marched out of the kitchen.

"S-see? Right on time," Jason said in a shaky voice.

Audrey sighed. "I would dispute that, but I just don't have the energy or the patience. But don't you dare pull that tomorrow, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mom."

Jason followed her inside and struggled to concentrate on whatever tasks his mother would assign him, even as his mind seethed with the horrible thought of what would happen if the Darkness obtained the Book.

It would be like giving a sociopath the launch keys to a nuclear missile.

Gina could not concentrate on her homework.

The encounter with Stephanie haunted her. She had never seen the girl freak out like that. And why was she frightened of Victor? From Victor's lack of reaction to the name, it seemed Victor did not even know the girl. Yet why was Gina reluctant to say her name, as if she thought Stephanie needed protection from him?

To make matters worse, her pussy was wet and achy. She wanted to welcome it and let her thoughts drift off into her fantasies. She could masturbate herself to a nice, quick orgasm and get back to her homework.

Gina sighed and dropped the pen onto her workbook. She would be so much more comfortable without her blouse and skirt. Yet each time she tried to heed the thought, her mind returned to Stephanie again and the fear.

(he's messing with my head)

Gina closed her eyes and clamped her hands over her ears. She understood now that Stephanie was the catalyst who shattered the calm. This last time was the worst; now Stephanie's words had slipped into her head and formed a chorus with her own hidden inner demon.

But now Victor would be there to help set things right for her again. He would silence her demon now, so she would not have to wait until she saw him in school the next day.

And yet, she could not say that she was looking forward to it.

"Gina."

Gina jerked her head towards the door in time to see it swing open. Her eyes widened when they fell on Victor. Enticing aromas wafting in around him from the kitchen made her stomach rumble and eased her anxiety. "Yes?"

"Dinner is just about ready. You should come downstairs."

"Oh, okay." Gina set the workbook aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Is there a problem?" Victor asked, his voice gentle.

"Huh? Oh, um, no, not at all, I..."

Trust him.

"Uh ... th-that is..."

Always trust him.

Gina shivered. "I was s-still thinking about Stephanie."

"Ah, I see."

"I was worried about her, the way she ran off, like she was frightened."

"Hmm. Well, I certainly hope it was not over me," Victor said with a soft smile. "I wouldn't hurt a fly."

Gina smiled and nodded. "Of course."

She approached the door. Victor did not move, forcing her to stop. She looked up and tilted her head.

"It is important that you practice everything you have learned," said Victor. "That is one of the things I will help you with. Now, what is the most important thing you learned right from the start?"

The words fell from her lips. "That I should accept my sexuality."

"And how do you show me that acceptance?"

Gina stood still for another few seconds, her thoughts glacial for some reason she could not fathom. Finally, she started to undress.

"It's so much more important now, Gina, especially in your own home. You learned to do this in my office, and you have done it when only your mother is present. You need to take the next step."

Gina felt flushed as she stripped to her underwear. Her nipples rose and hardened in anticipation of their display and tingled as the cups of her bra slid from them. Her pussy relinquished her panties from where they had become wedged in her wet slit. She stepped out of them and tossed them onto her bed.

"How do you feel, Gina?" Victor asked.

"Warm," Gina replied. "And a little horny."

"That is very good to hear. It should be enjoyable for you. It should be something you want to do. Your sexuality is a wonderful thing, Gina. It is meant to be shared. Come along and I will show you more of what I mean."

Victor led her downstairs. She heard her mother bustling in the kitchen. The dining room table had been set for dinner, a rarity in her house since the kitchen table was adequate for two.

Gina paused at the foot of the stairs when her mother stepped out of the kitchen carrying a large bowl of steaming vegetables. An apron covered her front down to her knees. She wore nothing else.

Roberta looked up as she set the bowl down and smiled. She straightened and brought her hands together. "Oh, Gina, I am so proud of you! I knew you wouldn't disappoint our guest."

Gina did not reply. She had seen her mother nude before, but not in such an incongruous moment.

"I did say she would be mindful of you," Roberta said to Victor. "Certainly she has been a very good little girl the past few days."

A wave of soft pleasure washed over Gina, and she offered a weak smile. Of course she would be good. She would never think of doing anything less.

"Mothers always have a soft spot for their little girls," Victor said. "I am happy she lived up to your praise. Do go about fetching the rest of dinner, Roberta."

"Of course, at once."

Gina watched her go, her bare ass cheeks bouncing with her eager gait.

Victor lay a hand on Gina's shoulder. "Here, you should have the seat in the middle."

She approached the table. Settings were placed at either end, and another at the long side between them. She slid into her seat as Roberta burst out of the kitchen to serve another course. She stared at her mother, gaze intense and questioning.

"Do you see what I mean, Gina?" Victor said.

Gina turned her eyes to him.

"Your mother lives what she has taught you. She accepts her own sexuality without question or hesitation."

Gina had a lot of questions. How did her mother learn such a thing? Did Victor teach her? Did she know Victor already? If so, why wasn't Gina aware of their relationship?

She could give voice to none of them, as it would be improper. Her place was to accept it and...

Trust.

... trust that Victor knew best.

( ... messing with my... )

"Gina?"

Gina blinked rapidly for a few seconds. "Yes?"

"Are you still thinking about this other girl?"

"No. Not really."

Victor looked up as Roberta arrived with the plate of roast beef. "It is important to keep your mind in the present, Gina," Victor said as the plate was placed in the center of the table. His eyes lingered on Roberta as she stepped to the side to untie her apron. "As your mother does. She does not dwell on the past, or worry about the future."

Roberta folded her apron neatly and put it aside, leaving her nude. She beamed at Gina and Victor before she sat down.

"Save, perhaps, for your future, Gina," said Victor.

Gina looked at him. He smiled in return. A small shiver of pleasure passed through her and made her pussy throb and ache.

Richie ate his hamburger in silence while his mother watched him from across the table, clad in only her robe. She held the folds closed across her breasts with one hand, while the other played with the belt. She stared at her son with eyes both pleading and apologetic.

She shifted in her seat, the creak of the chair prominent in the unnerving quiet. The hand at her waist finally freed the bow. Her other hand lingered for a moment before it dropped. She let out a slow, lusty sigh and sat back, her robe falling open.

Richie's eyes flicked up, lingered over Sandra's bare breasts for a few seconds, then dropped to his meal once more.

Sandra leaned forward, and the robe slipped from her shoulders. She bent forward, letting her boobs dangle under her. "Richie."

His eyes flicked up again.

Sandra's lips curved into a tremulous smile. "You can have these after dinner," she cooed, though her voice quavered.

Richie stared as he chewed. He swallowed and looked away. "You can keep 'em," he said.

"You want them."

Richie said nothing, nor gave any other clue that he had heard her.

Sandra leaned back in her chair again. She slid her foot forward and touched the inside of Richie's calf. "I-I'm already wet for you again, Richie," she said as her foot stroked his leg.

"Use a freakin' dildo, then."

Sandra raised her foot to his thigh. "A dildo is just not the same."

Richie said nothing. His legs quivered but did not move out of the way. He took another large bite of his burger, almost too large for him to chew at once.

Sandra slid her hips forward and stretched her foot. Her toes found Richie's crotch and its hardening bulge of betrayal. Agitated tendrils of Darkness slithered around Richie's thighs, but trembled and writhed as if in pain. She wiggled her toes and was rewarded with an even harder bulge and a tiny shiver through Richie's body.

Richie reached under the table and grasped his mother's ankle. Sandra grabbed the edge of the table, rattling the silverware. Richie threw her foot to the side, his mother almost sliding out of the chair.

"What the fuck part of 'no' don't you understand?" Richie declared.

Sandra righted herself in the chair. "But I can tell you want it."

"I don't give a rat's ass what my dick wants. I don't have to stick it in you if I don't want to."

Sandra's eyes took on a hollow, haunted look as she stared at her son. "It will punish me."

Richie stopped chewing and looked up.

"It will. Very badly. You don't want to see your mother hurt, do you, Richie?"

Richie narrowed his eyes. He stared at the Aura, trying to determine who was really speaking. His heart ached just the same to look into that despairing gaze.

He was drawing on the power from the others. He felt it like a warm wind against his back. He sensed a presence, as if the others were standing behind him.

If he did do it, he could call on them to prevent himself from falling to the Darkness. He could have his jollies and keep his will, all at the expense of the Harbingers knowing he caved. Then he could claim it was to protect his mother. Maybe they would even believe him.

The problem was that he was not sure he believed it himself.

"No, I don't want to see you hurt, Mom," Richie said in a softer voice.