Chapter 26

"Hi, this is Mike Hendon. I'm not available right now, but please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you." BEEP.

Richie stood motionless, the receiver clutched in a hand already numb from the icy pre-dawn air. Wind whipped through the empty lot behind the phone kiosk, tossing dead leaves and small twigs around his feet and redoubling the morning chill. Overhead, twilight slowly retreated from the eastern skies.

He uttered a small sigh and hung up the phone. He told himself he did not want to settle for voice mail after feeling like he had finally worked up the courage to talk to his father.

You're such a bad liar.

Richie closed his eyes and leaned his back against the side of the kiosk. His foot brushed against the front wheel of his bike and sent it falling to the ground, having been precariously balanced against a hydrant. Richie looked at it with disinterest.

He rubbed his eyes and cursed when he could barely feel his face. He turned away from the next gust of wind and thrust his hands into his pockets. He had barely slept that night. He had given up around six and sneaked out of the house to ride around on his bike. He had been drawn to the phone kiosk as soon as he had spotted it.

Fucking coward. Probably wouldn't want to talk to you anyway.

Richie let out a slow sigh. The words hardly moved him anymore. The day before, after his run-in with Jason, those words and worse had sounded in his head, growing louder until he swore he would go deaf. He had excused himself from class to use the bathroom and spent almost the rest of the period holed up in a toilet stall both wanting to cry and trying not to. Only when he had agreed with all the biting insults and terrible accusations had it mercifully stopped.

This was the man with whom he wanted to speak.

He closed his eyes as his hand curled around the already tattered post-it note. It did not matter if the paper disintegrated; he had stared at it so many times in the late hours of failed slumber that he had memorized it.

Why did he want to do it? After all the horrible things his father had already said in his head, why did he need to hear it all again? He already knew his father believed he had totally fucked up his and his mother's life. He had multiple chances to get it right and had blown it every time.

Richie pushed himself from the kiosk and kicked a large twig. It spun around a few times before growing still. Another gust of wind rotated the twig until it pointed back at Richie, as if it were a finger of accusation from nature itself.

Richie looked up at the brightening skies. He picked up his bike and hesitated before mounting it. Every time he had ridden his bike recently, he had imagined the devil at his back. Now he felt as if that same devil were hiding nearby, laughing at him, as if he were not even worth the trouble anymore.

He mounted his bike and sped away, his thoughts as frozen as the air.

Jason stared at his dead computer and uttered a forlorn sigh as he donned his shirt. He had not realized how much of his life revolved around it. Prior to the journal, almost every waking moment not spent in school, at meals, or having sex were spent in front of that machine. In a way, he felt like he had lost a friend.

He finished dressing and hauled his backpack onto the bed, then stared at it as if unsure of what to do. He had thought the Inn would be the most difficult thing he had ever faced in his life. Now that he had faced it, it was no longer an unknown. What loomed larger was facing the other Harbingers. He was sure he would be scrutinized for any sign of the Darkness.

He looked down at himself and saw no Aura. According to Melinda and Heather, one could indeed see it on oneself. Whether one would care would be the real measure of how far one had fallen, he imagined.

Not that he had been unaffected. His dreams had been filled with erotic imagery centered around Cindy. He had awoken from one in the middle of the night with an erection which would not cease. He had been forced to masturbate himself to orgasm while struggling not to think about Cindy kneeling before him happily sucking his cock.

Jason felt a renewed stirring in his loins while recalling the dream. He raced into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Could he already have an Aura but some part of his mind refused to see it? Or was he having a normal reaction? He had never stopped to think if being aroused by the idea of a girl acting as his sex slave was "okay" if he did not really want to enslave anyone.

He wished he could go back in time to all those moments when he had willingly influenced people like Melinda or Heather into sex, even if at their request or with their tacit approval. Maybe if he had never gone through with it, it would be easier to resist Stacy's influence. He and Melinda should never have tried any of the spells in the Book. Perhaps they had left a sort of corrupting influence which Stacy could exploit.

"Jason, you're going to miss the bus," came his mother's voice from downstairs.

Jason drew back from the mirror and sighed. Not even the voice was really his mother's anymore. It just happened to come from someone who looked superficially like his mother.

He bolted out of the bathroom and grabbed his backpack. "I'm headed out now!" He was almost at the threshold of the door when his father suddenly stepped into view. "Dad, I'm going to be late, what is it?" Jason said in a testy voice.

"No, you're not," Henry said. "Your mother always calls you down ten minutes before it's scheduled to arrive. At least that part of your mother is still the same."

"Then maybe I just don't want to talk to you."

Henry hesitated, then uttered a short sigh. "Maybe I deserved that. You probably thought I had abandoned you last night."

His father had not come home the night before until well after dinner. Jason shook his head. "No, I just figured you were going back to business as usual."

Jason had not said it with the intent to convey accusation, yet Henry's eyebrows rose slightly. "I may have deserved that as well. Taking off all that extra time caught up with me."

"I figured as much. But what's your point?"

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

Jason felt he was going to have a hard enough time dealing with his friends; he did not need this as well. "Do I sound okay? Do I look okay to you?"

Henry's eyes flicked over his son. "I can't see the same thing you can see on people who are... affected. Of course, if you even admit you can see anything, that is."

"Sometimes mundane senses can tell you a lot more than extraordinary ones. You didn't need anything special to see something was wrong with Mom."

"Jason?" Audrey's voice called from below. Jason heard footsteps, and then her mother spoke from the bottom of the stairs. "Henry, what are you doing? He needs to get to school, and you need to get to the office."

"She wants me to go to the office," Henry said in a dry voice. "If nothing else up to this point had told me something was wrong--"

"I'll be done in a minute, Mom!" Jason called out. "Dad, can this wait, please?"

Henry glanced down the hall and leaned over the threshold. He dropped his voice to a near whisper. "Jason, listen to me: if Audrey does anything inappropriate with you--"

"What do you mean?"

Henry frowned. "Stop being obtuse. It should be obvious what I mean. If it happens, I want you to tell me right away."

Jason thought back to the previous morning, when his mother had kissed him in a most non-motherly way. Only now did he realize his intent of sparing his mother might come to naught. If he fell far enough to the Darkness' influence, he might initiate a sexual tryst himself.

"Dad, to be honest ... if things go bad, you may have to protect her from me."

Henry gave him a level look. "What do they have you doing there?"

"I can't go into it right now. I really need to get going. This day is going to be hard enough as it is, and you're not making it any easier."

Without waiting for a response, he barreled towards the door. His father side-stepped out of the way as Jason blew past, his backpack nearly smacking his father in the chest as he turned into the hallway.

At the top of the stairs, Jason paused and looked down. His mother leaned on the banister, letting her breasts dangle against her house dress. She thrust her rear out and crossed one ankle over the other. Her lips curled into a sultry smile.

Jason heard footsteps behind him, and his father cleared his throat. "Audrey."

"Yes, dear?" Audrey replied without taking her eyes from Jason.

"Do you always greet your son in the morning by standing like a hooker waiting for her next john?"

After taking a second to convince himself he had heard his father correctly, Jason braced for the heated response. Instead, she paused, then slowly straightened and stepped to the side, folding her hands before her. Her eyes remained fixed on him with the same smoldering look he had seen the morning before. He descended the stairs, his father following just two stairs behind.

As Jason stepped off the last stair, Audrey's eyes flicked to his crotch for a moment, and one corner of her mouth rose. "Did you have pleasant dreams last night?"

He envisioned Cindy again on her knees. The thought flitted in and out of his consciousness like a hidden frame in a movie, and his cock twitched and swelled. He stepped past his mother without another word, and by the time he had reached the front door, his cock was erect once more.

Melinda shivered in the early morning cold as she stood in uneasy silence at the curb. Ever since the evening before, Heather had barely spoken to her. She suspected something was on her sister's mind, but she knew any attempt to wheedle it out would erupt into an argument. She feared it would devolve into accusations of abandonment despite knowing full well she was the one who had told Heather to leave.

Melinda shifted her weight as the cold shot up her pant legs and blew over her bare mound. Even that could not numb the lingering ache. The night before, Aunt Jo had pounded the dildo into her and had left her just short of orgasm, then had her "pay" for the pleasure she had just received by licking her aunt to climax. Even when she had been allowed to cum, she had to lick her mother's pussy next.

Even as she frowned in indignation and disgust at the memory, her pussy tingled and buzzed in anticipation of more. She refused to believe her mother had enlisted Aunt Jo just to avoid doing this herself.

The bus pulled to the curb, and her heart leapt into her throat. Her eyes shimmered as the doors opened and her gaze fell on Jason. She let out a ragged sigh. "No Aura," she whispered as she bound up the stairs, yet she hesitated just short of claiming the empty seat next to him.

"I'm all right so far, Melinda," Jason said in a tired voice.

Melinda forced a small smile and fell into the seat. She threw an arm around him and drew him close. "Maybe it's not going to be so bad, then," she whispered into his ear.

He said nothing in response. Melinda was about to repeat her statement as a question when Heather spoke up. "Jason, I need to talk to you about something."

"So you do have something on your mind," Melinda piped. "What is it?"

"I don't want to discuss it with you yet."

"Get bent, Heather. I'm not going to let you keep any secrets from--"

"If this has anything to do with the Harbingers," Jason said. "Then you shouldn't discuss it with me."

"Well, I don't know if it does or not," Heather said. "But why can't we discuss anything with you?"

"Get a clue, Heather," Richie grunted. "If the Dark bitch gets into his head, you want him spilling everything about what we're doing?"

"So I can't even tell him what we talked about at the meeting yesterday?"

"Especially not that," said Jason. "Don't tell me anything. It's safer that way. In fact ... um..." He paused and gave Melinda an apologetic look. "Maybe you guys should think about sitting away from me on the bus."

"Don't say that!" Melinda cried, her arm tightening around him. "You don't even have an Aura, not even a tiny bit."

"I resisted their initial attempt," Jason said in a lower and quavering voice. "But it was really hard. Stacy Missen, the owner of the Inn, is ... I guess you could say bonded to the Inn, maybe similar to the way Mara was bound to the House." Melinda felt him suddenly shiver violently. "I could hear her voice in my head no matter where in the Inn she was."

"Just don't listen to it," Melinda said, her voice edged with desperation. "Just ignore it. Don't do what it says."

Jason let out a ragged sigh. "It's just like what Elizabeth wrote in her journal. It preys on every weakness, every dark fantasy. It wants to make me dominate others."

"What the fuck?!" Richie exclaimed with such vehemence that Melinda flinched. She leaned forward, and her eyes widened when she glimpsed his fear before it was masked by anger. "You can't let them do that to you!"

"Richie, the whole point of my concern is that I won't be able to stop them," Jason said in a exasperated voice. "All of you, please listen to me. Don't take any chances. Don't make me privy to anything you're doing. Don't..." He paused and gave Melinda a pained look. "Don't associate with me too closely."

Melinda swallowed, her eyes shimmering. "D-don't say that," she uttered in a choked voice.

Jason sighed and hugged her. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but you least of all."

"But you're the only ... you..." Melinda bit her lip hard to staunch the flow of words. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder. She was losing her only anchor, her last solace from the torture that her home life had become. She felt everything she ever loved was being ripped away from her one by one.

"This is fucking stupid," Richie declared. "Nobody's smart enough to beat the nerd-brain. You have more IQ points than everyone else in the fucking Inn put together."

Melinda thought she could not hear anything which could disturb her further, but the desperate edge to Richie's voice had managed it. Her heart lurched when Jason clasped Richie's shoulder and said, "Let's hope you're right."

Though Melinda heard anything but hope in Jason's voice.

Ned was halfway down the stairs by the time the limo sounded its horn the second time, clutching his shabby book-bag to his chest. A corner of the manila folder containing the journal poked through a separating seam. He did not trust leaving the journal home. Ever since he had started seeing Cassie, he found evidence that his parents were searching his room, probably looking for expensive trinkets to pawn.

His father had all but admitted to his attempted thievery one evening when he complained, "Think that rich bitch would be appreciative enough ta share some of her goddamn money with ya."

He raced out the door and found Cassie waiting for him at the end of the walk. She hugged him and hooked her arm into his. "Harry, we're five minutes ahead of schedule. I would like to walk with my boyfriend for a little while before we head to school."

Ned smirked at the way Cassie faintly emphasized the word "boyfriend."

"The air is quite chilly this morning, Miss Kendell," said Harry.

"And, amazingly, I manage to keep warm through the miracle of modern clothing technology."

Ned bit his knuckle to stop from sniggering. He heard a sigh from inside the limo. "Very well, Miss Kendell."

"And do not creep along the street with us. I will be going only as far as the end of the block and back."

Harry did not respond, but Ned heard another resigned sigh. Cassie hurried them down the sidewalk a few car lengths before she slowed to a more leisurely pace. "I didn't want him overhearing us, Ned," Cassie said.

"I hear ya. Got some new revelation 'bout yer parents?"

She squeezed his arm. "I had one the other night, but ... but I have to put that on hold for now. I have more important things to worry about."

"So ya didn't go playin' footsie in yer parents' heads last night?"

"No, I ... I actually spent my time in your head. You, Diane, and ... and Mrs. Radson." She sighed. "I feel like such a mental peeping Tom now. I never really stopped to think about how I was violating so many people's privacy all this time."

"Ya know I never have problems with ya tip-toeing through my mental tulips. I didn't have no dreams 'bout ya last night, though."

"I did only the stuff I could always do, which is see your memories and your dreams. I didn't interact. I feel like it's my responsibility to make sure you're all safe."

"What about Jason and the rest of his motley crew in that neck of the Haven woods?"

"I still have trouble getting to them," said Cassie. "The corrupted line energy is interfering too much." She glanced at his book-bag. "When I was visiting your psyche, I saw you reading the journal."

"Ayep," Ned said with a small sigh. "I read all the entries Jason had marked that had ta do with Lizzie's mighty mental management breakthrough. It's like watchin' a drama and havin' it be someone's dream in the end."

"Did you find anything else?"

"It was kinda late when I got done with 'em, so the ol' noggin mighta been runnin' on empty, but I didn't see no code. But I figger if she did code something, it would be in the pages after. I did notice something funny, though, but it may be nothin'."

"No, every little detail might matter, Ned. What is it?"

"The last two entries bugged me, an' not jus' cuz she pulled the rug out from under us," Ned said. "The next-ta-last entry seemed ta end in the middle of a sentence. The last entry begins at the top of the next page and there's a week gap between 'em."

"You think some pages are missing?" Cassie said.

Ned heard the excitement in her voice, but he shook his head. "Nah, 'cuz the next-ta-last entry says she's gone off ta the ol' tavern ta confront the grand poobah of evil. But the next page where she says it was all a sham is usin' a different brand of paper. It's prolly nothin' since she's done that before. Hell, I don't bother lookin' at the brand name when I buy school supplies. I got binders with three different styles of looseleaf in 'em."

"Well, it might be something."

Ned heard the disappointment in her voice despite her attempt to suppress it. He pulled her closer and gave her a quick hug. "I'm gonna keep at it til I find something."

Cassie nodded, looking troubled. She paused as they reached the intersection and closed her eyes. "I'm starting to sense the others. They must be riding the school bus, and it's pulling far enough away from the line."

"They doin' okay?"

Cassie opened her eyes. "They're not exactly very chipper at the moment, but they seem okay. I'm not feeling any sort of taint from Jason yet."

"Taint?"

"When I sense the emotions of people under the influence of the Darkness, it's like there's something off about it. It's sort of like biting into something you expect to taste sweet but it has a really faint sour taste as well. I don't sense anything like that from Jason."

"Mebbe it's gonna be all right after all," Ned said with a small, forced smile as they headed back to the limo.

Cassie's lips twitched but did not quite make it. Ned thought she likely sensed he did not quite believe his own words. Instead, he felt they were in the calm before the storm, and the others were relying on him to provide the shelter. He had been gung ho to help the Harbingers, and now he had gotten more than he had ever bargained for.

Ned understood now how Jason must have felt for the past month.

Diane was already disappointed that Heather had not tried to contact her the day before, so it did not help that the moment she stepped off the bus she heard Heather and Melinda from across the parking lot shouting at each other.

"What the fuck, Heather?! You can talk to Jason about something but you can't talk to me?"

"Melinda, calm down! I'll tell you about it when I know more, okay?"

Diane took a deep breath and let it go as a slightly quavering sigh. She tried not to be angry with Melinda, but she felt cheated out of her moment. That afternoon would be the first time she and Heather would have a chance for some intimacy, and Diane had managed to work up the courage to talk to Heather about her concern. Waiting until they were alone would be too late; she was sure she would be too caught up in the moment to risk ruining it with her petty needs.

"Jason said we shouldn't keep anything from each other," said Melinda. "That we share everything we know with each other."

"This isn't about the Harbingers, you midget," grumbled Heather.

"But you said it might have to do with us on the bus!"

"I didn't ... I meant ... dammit, Melinda, stop missing the fucking point."

"The only point here is the one on your head."

"Oh, yeah, real mature, runt."

"I just meant ... I didn't mean..."

Melinda's stumble gave Diane an opening just long enough to come alongside Heather and share a hug. Heather returned it and said in a contrite voice, "Diane, I'm really sorry I didn't call you yesterday, but something came up."

"Yeah, something she won't tell me about!" Melinda piped. "Bet you'll tell her."

Heather turned towards her little sister, keeping one arm wrapped around Diane's waist. "Melinda, just drop it, okay?"