Chapter 6

Richie lay on his back on the bed, trying to ignore the ache in his balls. Cathy was draped over him, her hand slowly stroking his chest, one slim leg sliding along his thigh. Her breath was a slow pant, and her hips occasionally squirmed. Richie felt the warm moisture against his skin when her still damp pussy brushed him.

Despite keeping a rigid hold over his thoughts, his cock remained at half-mast, willing to go again despite how many times it had already gone. He had not had that kind of stamina except when he was linked to the other Harbingers. With as little energy he sensed from it, the link may as well be dead. That left only the Darkness, and he refused to let it gain any more control over him.

Not control, Richie, not at all, the Darkness cooed in his head. Just a little gift from me. Like your would-be slave here.

Richie clenched his teeth. He quelled the denial he wanted to shoot back, if for no other reason than to avoid appearing like it had riled him. He had not taken Cathy as a slave, not in any of the times she has orgasmed. Each time Cathy had come close, he had sensed the Darkness waiting with sharp anticipation. The moment of climax was always when it happened, when the mind was most vulnerable.

You can take her any time you want, Richie.

Richie turned his head and listened to his mother bustling about the kitchen. He drew in a slow, deep breath, and the thick aroma of his mother's cooking sent a pang through both his stomach and his heart. "Maybe I should go help Mom with dinner," he said.

Cathy raised her head. She drew her leg further up Richie's thigh. "Don't you want to stay here with me?"

Yes, he very much wanted to stay. He wanted to keep fucking her; he wanted to tease her pussy and hold her just short of orgasm until she begged to be allowed to cum; he wanted her lips wrapped around his cock; he wanted his cock buried in her tits.

His cock rose to these fleeting thoughts. Cathy glanced at it and licked her lips with a shiver of renewed need. Her hand slid down his chest and cradled his stiffening member until it became hard and pulsing once more. She played her fingers along its length with light and furtive caresses until his breath quickened.

Richie's hand suddenly shot out and grasped Cathy's wrist. He paused, took another breath, and tugged her hand away from his cock.

"Something wrong, Richie?" Cathy asked, her eyes shimmering. "Was I doing it wrong?"

"You're fine, Cathy," Richie grunted, sweeping her hand to the side. "I just wanna talk, okay?"

Cathy slowly nodded, but she let out a husky sigh and snuggled against him.

Nice, fuckable girl in bed with me and I say I just wanna talk, Richie thought. Yeah, I must be fucking nuts.

Moreover, he had no idea what to say. He searched his head for any sign of his father's presence. Even its mocking tone would be welcome, as it helped him make the right decisions. Any decisions he made on his own he feared would be self-serving or influenced by the Darkness.

He wished he had called Jason earlier. If anyone had the answers, it would be him. He smirked at an unintentionally amusing thought: WWJD -- What Would Jason Do?

Jason would ask lots of annoying questions, Richie thought.

"When did you run into my Mom?" Richie asked.

"Oh, I didn't really run into her," Cathy said in a breathy voice. "She called me up on Monday and said she wanted to take me out to lunch."

"So you did lunch with her? Just like that?"

"On Tuesday, yeah. I was surprised to hear from her after all these years. She said she really needed my help with something."

"With what?"

Cathy paused. "She never did tell me, actually. When we went to lunch, we wound up talking a lot about you."

"And then, bang, you wanted to see me again, huh?"

Cathy hesitated again, as if Richie's questions were taxing her ability to think. "I don't remember quite that well. I think I told her I wouldn't mind seeing you again at some point. Then she invited me over for Thanksgiving."

"And you agreed? You don't have your own family?"

Cathy squirmed. "My mother ... wasn't happy with it, no, but by then Aunt Sandra had told me all about you and I just had to see you again. That's when I started having all those sexy dreams about--"

"Never mind that!" Richie snapped. He frowned as he tried to think of what to ask next. He silently cursed himself for not being as good at this as Jason. "So you decided to forget your family and come here after having lunch with my mother?"

Cathy let out a husky sigh and shivered. She drew her leg further up Richie's thigh until it brushed his balls. She slid her hand over his chest, her fingers spreading. "She ... she took me back here after lunch," she said in a breathy voice. "I don't remember a lot of what happened, just ... just this really mind-blowing orgasm."

"Yeah," Richie said tonelessly. "Literally."

Cathy moaned, her hand sliding down to his cock. What little of his erection had flagged snapped back to life seconds after her touch. "Richie? Fuck me one more time? Please? Thinking about Tuesday made me so horny again."

Richie almost didn't hear her. He brooded on what his mother had done. Had she any idea the Darkness would offer him his mother back? Was she doing this to save herself? Should the answer even matter?

Three months ago, Richie would have gladly sacrificed anyone into slavery if it meant turning back the clock. He would have sacrificed all of Haven to get his father back and return to a peaceful existence back in Randall. He doubted he would have batted an eye if his own mother had done the same. Sometimes he fantasized that her continuous sexual romp through Haven was a means to that end, that the Darkness would let her go once she reached her quota.

(Perhaps I don't need Sandra as much anymore)

No, Richie thought. I won't take Cathy. I won't enslave her. The Darkness is lying. It has to be.

Yet, for a moment, he wished it wasn't.

Richie gestured. Cathy nodded and scrambled atop him, straddling his hips. She leaned forward and dangled her breasts in the way she knew Richie liked. Richie grabbed her hips as she reached down to lift his cock towards her eager and wet pussy. She closed her eyes and uttered a deep, lusty sigh as he pulled her onto his cock. She smiled as he slid into her slick tunnel with a wonderful squishing sound.

He shoved her down hard, and she gasped when his cock dove deep. She gyrated her hips just to feel his hardness filling her cunt. He lifted his arms, and she raised her hips along with him, only to drop her back down again. Cathy picked up the pace and humped his cock, her boobs swaying with each thrust.

Again, the Darkness had drawn closer, like vultures to carrion, watching and slavering. This time he saw something else, something faint, and he closed his eyes to visualize it. The Darkness was surrounded by an eerie blue-white glow. He had never seen anything like it.

It had to mean something. He tried to think through the fog of pleasure, but Cathy humped him harder, as if trying to distract him. I'm not gonna take her, Richie repeated, though his conviction faltered. Go get off on something else, 'cuz the show's over, you fucker.

No reaction. It may have been his imagination, but he sensed a non-nonchalance from the Darkness, as if it were watching only a sideshow of some bigger event. But what?

Cassie was still pushing open one of the doors when Ned stepped past her. He looked around the cavernous room, his eyes sweeping over the curved alabaster walls and up to the huge, sparkling chandeliers. He uttered another long whistle and thrust his hands into his pockets. He took a few steps forward just to hear the echo of his own crisp footsteps.

"Wow. Yer own ballroom. Oops!" He briefly clamped his hand over his mouth. He drew himself up straight, tossed his head back, and peered imperiously down his nose. "A very fine piece of architecture, my dearest Cassandra. Spacious without being overdone. Luxurious without being ostentatious. White without being very, uh, black."

Cassie stepped up to him and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing rather hard. "Ned?"

"Ah, yes, my lovely consort?"

"Stop it. Please. And go back to calling me Cassie."

"Oh, uh, sure thing," Ned said, dropping back to his normal voice. "I jus' wanted ta make sure I, ya know, played the role right."

Cassie sighed and laid her head against his shoulder. "I don't want you to play a role. I'm sorry I ever even hinted I wanted you to."

"I jus' don't wanna get ya inta trouble with yer parents. I wanna at least try ta make a good impression."

"Not if it means being someone you're not. It's bad enough I have to put on airs. I shouldn't impose that on you."

Ned grasped her hand. "Yeah, I gotta admit, I was wonderin' 'bout that. Ya mean ya have ta play the part o' the little princess around them, too?"

Cassie slipped her arm around him and nudged until he walked slowly with her across the ballroom floor. "At least my mother, anyway. And Father largely defers to her when it comes to me."

"Wow, that'd drive me bonkers." He tugged one of the lapels of his jacket. "At least I gotta wear this only today."

"And I wish you hadn't had to wear it, to be honest."

"Well, I coulda shown up naked, but it's too damn cold outside fer that."

Ned's voice carried in the empty room, and she felt the urge to admonish him for the crude humor. She quelled it and giggled softly instead. She glanced around and uttered a small sigh, realizing this was the first time she was traversing the ballroom floor with someone she actually loved.

"Seriously, Cassie, I woulda looked as outta place as a sore nose if I didn't wear this."

"I know, and I appreciate you doing it for me." She smiled. "And I do think you look handsome."

Ned grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist, but then paused. "Er ... I'm allowed ta touch ya a little, right?"

Cassie doubted her mother would have liked any contact whatsoever between them. "Of course you are."

Ned looked around as they came to the center of the room. "So, uh, is the evenin' vittles gonna be served up here?"

Cassie noticed the slight quaver to his voice. "No, that will be in the banquet room. Why?"

"Oh, okay, that's cool," Ned said in a relieved voice.

Cassie stopped walking and faced him. "Why, what's wrong?"

To her bemusement, Ned's cheeks colored. "It's, ah ... well, I jus' thought if they did it in here, we'd hafta, ya know, dance or something."

Cassie smiled. "It's not that hard, Ned."

Ned snorted. "Tell that ta my feet. They're as coord'nated as a spider wearin' skates walkin' on an oil slick."

"Oh, you can't be that bad." She paused. "You want me to show you?"

Ned's eyes widened. "Huh? What, here? Now?"

In answer to his question, she took one of his hands and placed it near her waist.

"Ah ... I'm not so sure 'bout this," Ned said in an anxious voice. "Mebbe we're not allowed ta do this or--"

"Nonsense, Ned. My mother is always making me do this with some other rich family's son." She placed his other hand and nudged one of his feet to the side. "I guess she hopes I'll take a liking to one of them, and he'll sweep me off my feet and out of this so-called 'phase' I'm in."

"Heh, I fer one hope ya never do take a likin' ta them."

Cassie positioned her hands on his body and looked into his eyes. "Rich people bore me," she said in a low, earnest voice. "Here, just follow my lead."

Cassie did not sense his shock in time to stop. Ned failed to move at first and stumbled into her on the first dance step, his cheeks flaming.

Cassie giggled. "It's okay. We'll try it again."

Ned nodded and held his breath through the first few steps, letting it go as a gusty sigh when he tripped over her feet, her hands gripping him hard to keep him upright. Cassie cast a tender smile at him, and she was sure it was the only thing which allowed her to sweep him around the ballroom floor. This time he managed to complete a full set of steps with only a minor stumble.

"See, you're getting it," Cassie said. "Let's try it again. Just remember the basic rhythm..."

Cassie was relieved to sense his embarrassment ease from just the sound of the delight in her voice. His lips twitched into a tiny smile, and then spread into a more natural grin as he completed the next steps without incident. She swept him into the next, and they turned around one another as they traversed the ballroom floor.

Cassie's heart soared. If only Ned could come to her mother's luncheons, they would be so much more tolerable. She enjoyed playing the princess for him, knowing he would appreciate her dress and her hairdo for how they complemented her rather than how they defined her. If she could have anything at all from her parents, even the smallest concession, it would be permission to wear ordinary, off-the-rack jeans and a simple pullover shirt.

"Heh, this is kinda fun," Ned said, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"I'd like it more, if my mother didn't make it such a chore at luncheons."

"Mebbe ya should try ta use yer Gift so we can do this more often."

Cassie misstepped. She recovered so quickly Ned barely noticed, but her heart suddenly fluttered, and a tremor went through her body. "What?" she asked in a slightly startled voice.

"Well, I figgered we, uh, could do it in our dreams fer real. I ... Cassie?"

Cassie's eyes glazed, and the ballroom spun around her and off into the distance.

"Cassie?" Ned said, giving her a tiny shake. "Cassie, ya with me again?"

Cassie blinked rapidly and drew in a sharp breath, letting it go as a shaky sigh. She lifted a still trembling hand to her face, then flinched when she saw how close she was standing to Ned.

Ned let out a relieved sigh. "Man, ya gave me a bit of a scare there. I was close ta findin' what's-his-name, Jeeves."

"That's J-James," Cassie said, her voice still weak. She clutched Ned's shoulders and drew in another deep breath. "Oh goodness..."

"Ya sure yer all right? Ya don't need me ta fetch--"

"No! I mean, no, please, don't summon..." She trailed off and looked around, as if to convince herself she was back in the real world. "Did anyone see me? How long was I out?"

"Nada. An' yer were only gone fer about five minutes." Ned smirked. "Longest five minutes of my life so far. Only reason I didn't call fer someone is I've seen ya like that before. Ya suddenly get inta someone's head?"

Cassie swallowed, her eyes darting everywhere.

"Whoa," Ned said. "Yer lookin' pretty frantic. What happened?"

"Just ... just let's get out of here first, please," Cassie said in a strained voice. She locked her arm around his and pulled him towards the door, though she hesitated just before crossing the threshold. She turned away from him and pulled the doors closed, letting out a relieved sigh.

"So didja?" Ned said in a low voice as he drew close.

"Yes, Ned, I did, but ... but it was like I got into my own head."

"Huh? I don't get it. Why wouldya need ta do that? Ya always said ya knew yer own head so well that--"

"At least I thought I did. But I just saw myself as a little girl, and ... and I don't remember any of it ever happening!"

Diane was surprised when she received very little flak from her mother for going a half hour over the time she had been allotted. Yet her mother's tolerance had apparently been pushed to the limit when Diane said she was going up to her room for awhile. Janet turned from a large bowl of dough and gave her daughter a pointed look. "Diane, what did I tell you last night about being with family today?"

"Mother, the rest of the family hasn't arrived yet."

"Your Grandmother Kyoto called just before you got home. They'll be here in a half hour. They would have been here sooner if it wasn't for the damn weather last night."

Diane was taken aback. It took a lot of stress to make her mother swear. Even Diane's father looked up from where he was cutting flattened pieces of dough to fashion into rolls, his dark almond eyes betraying concern, though he said nothing.

"Mother, I'll be down as soon as they arrive. I just ... I just want some time alone," Diane said.

"Did something happen with you and Heather?"

"No. Nothing happened at all," Diane said firmly, which was the absolute truth if she took her mother's words literally.

Janet searched her daughter's face, as if trying to verify that truth for herself. "I really don't like the idea of you holing up in your room, today of all days."

Diane bit her lip to suppress a sigh and looked to her father, but he gave her nothing more than a sympathetic look, which frustrated her to no end. Ralph Woodrow was a very loving father, but because of his family's influence, he held to some of their traditions about children and their relationship to their parents. For one, it was the mother's responsibility to sort out the daughters.

Janet plopped another large piece of dough on a pastry cloth and grabbed the roller. She paused and slumped her shoulders, the closest she usually came to uttering an actual sigh. "How important is this to you, really?"

"Very important, Mother," Diane, some relief creeping into her voice. "And I promise, as soon as I hear them arrive, I'll come downstairs and be with the family the rest of the day."

Janet hesitated another few seconds, but slowly nodded. "All right. Go."

Diane smiled and gave her mother a quick hug before she bolted from the room.

The time in the car with Debby had given Diane a chance to calm down. Ever since the woman had saved her from Victor, she had always felt more calm and protected in Debby's presence. The five minute ride had done far more for her state of mind than the conversation on the porch had.

In no way was she more accepting of this ability, but she had stopped freaking out about it. She had tried to appreciate it as something useful she could do, but it hinged on the assumption that she did not have to be enslaved -- or brought to near enslavement -- in order to use it.

As she bounded up the stairs, she thought back to the conversation with Cassie and Ned. Why had they asked her those questions? She chided herself for not thinking to ask at the time. Did it have anything to do with the lines? She did not want to pursue that idea too closely, as it made her entertain the notion that the Harbingers were planning to use her again like they had before.

Victor made them, she reminded herself as she entered her room. I have to keep telling myself that. They wouldn't have done it if Victor hadn't messed with my head.

Diane raced over to her desk and fell into the chair, rattling the lamp in the far right corner. She steadied it with one hand as she lifted the screen of her laptop with the other.

She was not sure what she expected to gain with what she was about to do, but the same question sparked by her conversation with Debby still haunted her: why had this power never manifested on its own at home if all she had to be was close to a line rather than right on it? Surely all the times she had been worried about Laura Bendon's affect on her mother would have been enough to allow her to tap into the line energy and destroy Laura's influence.

Diane sighed as she waited for her four year old laptop to boot and connect to the house wireless. She brought up Google Maps, tapping her foot as it seemed to load slower than most glaciers move in a year. She found her house and zoomed out until she could see the whole town.

Diane's eyes darted over the map, trying to locate Heather's house and failing. She plugged Heather's address into the application, then the location of the Li'l Missy Inn. She stared, imagining the line of force extending from just southeast of Heather's house, through the Inn and out her side of town. She clicked her tongue in frustration when it failed to visualize properly in her head.

She fumbled with the Windows menus until she had a screenshot image of the map in MS Paint. Using the original Google Maps as a reference, she placed dots on the MS Paint version to mark the Inn, her house, Heather's house, and finally the House at the end of the street. Finally, she drew a thick line which slashed across the map from northeast to southwest.

Diane stared at her resulting diagram with chagrin. If anything, it had proven her fears were real. Her house was just as close to the line as Heather's. If she had truly been able to tap the line energies from such proximity, the power should have manifested at home first long before that day.

She doubled-checked the location of the House. Since it had no address, she had to find the end of the little street and place the dot there, as for some odd reason the spot appeared as an empty field on even the satellite view. She tried adjusting the location a few times, but it did not significantly vary the result. She checked the Inn's location and verified she had that correct as well. She could not find an arrangement which would explain her lack of ability in her own home.

"Dammit," Diane muttered as she leaned back in her chair. She covered her eyes with a hand, the other curling into a fist which banged once against the top of the desk.

Diane wanted to find a reason to accept this power. Gaining the ability to see the Auras had sustained her for only a short time before her frustrations at failing to help Heather overshadowed it. It mattered not that Heather was refusing help. She felt she should be able to overcome it if she were a true friend and had any degree of competence whatsoever.

She flinched as the front door suddenly banged shut, and happy greetings in two languages rose from the floor below. Diane leapt from her chair and closed the lid of the laptop. She dashed out of the room, her long hair flying out behind her, and tried her best to push back the despair so she would not ruin her mother's expectations of one big happy family for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Though Diane felt she had little to give thanks for that year.

Henry Conner slowly lowered his glass of scotch. "A job," he said tonelessly. "You cannot be serious, Audrey."

Jason did not dare look away from his task. He had been pressed into service at the last minute to stir the gravy while his mother did the final preparations on the turkey. He stepped to the side as his mother barreled past to grasp the ends of the oven pan which filled the other side of the stove.

"Henry, I don't have the time to discuss this right now," Audrey said in a harried voice. "And, really, couldn't you wait until after dinner before you started drinking?"

"Hey, Betty was the one who brought the scotch. Considering how cheap she is the rest of the time--"

"Hush, she'll hear you!" Audrey hissed.

"She's up in the guest room jabbering with one of her friends on her cell phone. She won't be down until there's something more for her to eat."

"I don't know why you insist on insulting her at every turn, I really don't."

"Then the feeling is mutual, because I don't know why in hell you invited her over in the first place."

Jason heard his mother's exasperated sigh suddenly approach his ear as she leaned over the stove. She grabbed the spoon from Jason for a moment. "And this is still not thick enough," she muttered, handing it back. "I just haven't seen her for awhile, Henry, that's all," Audrey said, though to Jason's ears she sounded uncertain. She bustled over to a cabinet and extracted a container of flour. "Ever since we moved here I have not had as much contact with my family as I would have liked."

"Well, I still think you could've chosen better than her to invite to Thanksgiving."

Audrey dropped the container to the counter with a thud and slammed the measuring cup down next to it. "If you don't have anything better to do than insult my relatives and question my judgment, you can at least start getting the turkey out of the oven bag. I need the drippings for the gravy. Really, I've never felt so disorganized on Thanksgiving Day!"