Chapter 2

Cassandra von Cleef woke the next morning with aches in every part of her body and a deep desire to not move her head. As she'd slept, bruised flesh had stiffened and abused muscles had cramped. Her face in the mirror looked like she'd gone through a windshield.

Even so, she whistled as she went through her daily ritual of grinding, brewing and drinking a single cup of strong coffee. She was bruised and battered, but her nerves hummed like an orchestra tuning up and the special places inside her ached for more. The wounds would heal.

After coffee and toast, she picked up the old wall phone and called a number she knew by heart.

"Allo?" There was a French lilt to the voice of the woman who answered.

"Your boy, Justin ... he's the one."

The accent dropped, "Cassandra?"

"Yes."

"You're sure. He's a candidate?"

"He's more than that," said Cassandra firmly. "He's the one."

"How do you know this? Are you out at Saint James?"

"Yes," said Cassandra. "I came looking for a new pet and found him instead. I tried to make him bend his knee and he responded magnificently."

"You tried to break my son?"

"I did." Cassandra didn't bother to mince words, "But, I knew I couldn't. He's the one."

"That's not for either of us to decide. There will be other candidates."

Cassandra sighed, "If there's another, stronger candidate, they should fight them to the death and be done with it. Otherwise, it'll be war within the ranks."

The other woman didn't answer for a long time. Finally, she said, "I have some affairs to conclude before I can come collect him. Can you keep an eye on him for me until I get there?"

"No," said Cassandra. "I'm rather unsightly at the moment. I need to hole up and recover."

"What happened?"

She sighed, "He laid into me with his fists. He is magnificent, but completely untutored. I don't think he even glanced at the riding crop I brought him."

That got a quiet chuckle, "Serves you right ... trying to break my boy."

"I'll find someone to watch him," said Cassandra. "Now that he's awakened, he'll be a menace to everyone around him."

The other woman didn't answer right away, "You must be a mess."

"It will heal," said Miss van Cleef. "There is no weakness in yielding."

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Cassandra."

Cassandra frowned, "I thought you would be more pleased."

"I am pleased," insisted the woman. "But, it's a hard path and a terrible destiny to wish on one's own son."

Even though he woke with the aftereffects of the previous night coursing through his veins, Justin Dark walked around the next day with a thundercloud over his head.

In the cold light of day, his actions of the night before made him nauseous. He'd attacked a teacher, beaten her, and violated her. Worse, every time he remembered the events, a sick and unwholesome desire bubbled up from the murky depths of his psyche. Already, he wondered how much of Miss van Cleese's responses he'd imagined.

He walked around with his head down, waiting for the Wyoming State Police to arrive and take him away.

No police arrived. The day passed with agonizing slowness. When it was time for his literature class, he walked to it with heavy, leaden feet.

Miss van Cleef was gone. A statuesque black woman with a starched white blouse and long, tan skirt waited in her place.

When she spoke, it was with an exotic accent that Justin didn't recognize, "I am Miss Ali. Miss van Cleef has accepted a new position in another state."

Beyond that, no explanation was forthcoming. Justin hadn't expected it would be. No one at the school ever explained where people who left had gone.

Even with Miss van Cleef gone, Justin's punishment duty still stood. When he arrived at the stable, Gus could hardly wait to ask, "So, what happened between you and the sausage after I left?"

Dustin tried to demur, then tried to claim nothing interesting had happened. But, Gus was relentless, particularly once he found the crop in the mud room.

"Fine," said Justin. "You want to know what happened? She tried to whip me. I beat her to a pulp. Then, I raped her in a haystack and she quit her job."

Gus stared at him for a few seconds, then scowled, "Fine. Don't tell me."

It was nearly two weeks later when Justin was summoned to the administrative building. An underclassman was sent to fetch him out of fencing class.

The administrative building was structured like a medieval keep. Students rarely went there except for bad news or extreme disciplinary action. It was only a small relief to Justin that there were no police cars waiting outside. If he were going to be disciplined for what he'd done, being handed over to the civil authorities might be preferable to being punished here.

There were no cars at all. Justin rarely saw motor vehicles of any kind on the campus. There was a gleaming black helicopter perched on the lawn behind the building, though. Justin had never seen one up close. He would have liked to examine it more closely, but he didn't dare delay his meeting.

Inside, he was directed to the headmaster's office. A woman sat across the desk from the imposing Dr. Wurtz, one leg crossed over the other, fingers intertwined across her knee, posture straight, long blonde hair in a tight braid down her back. It took Dustin a few seconds to recognize her as his mother.

"Justin," she smiled and rose, kissing him lightly on each cheek.

Dr. Wurtz smiled and indicated a chair across from himself. It was the first time Justin had ever seen him smile. It wasn't entirely reassuring. He leaned forward fractionally, "We're sorry to see you leaving us, Justin."