Witch Hunt (35 page)

On the small table at the end of the leather couch was a statue. It was of a man and woman, wearing collars and leashes, kneeling behind a figure of the Devil. They were each kissing one of his buttocks. Melanie thought it was disgusting.

She moved to the wall that held the display of weapons and examined them. There were unusual markings scratched into the handle of one of the swords. Curious, she reached up to touch it, and when her fingers made contact with the cool metal, her mind was captured by it. The images came fast, and the emotions came hard. She saw ritual, but it wasn’t like the kind she practiced. It was dark and ugly. Intense waves of blood lust, fear, greed, and pain coursed through her, and she began to tremble. Real blood poured from the fangs of the cobra fountain.

The sword revealed those it had known. A pig, a cat, a newborn human baby. She didn’t want to see more, but morbid fascination kept her from releasing the sword.

She saw Belladonna, a young Asian girl of about sixteen. Her head, freed from her body by this sword, rolled onto the floor, its eyes frozen in horror. A large cast-iron pot caught the flow of blood.

“Oh, my gods, it’s real. This is all real,” she whispered. Her hand pulled away from the weapon and flew to her throat, where her pulse throbbed hard with fear. She spun around on her heel and saw that Amber was now on the couch, sitting on the lap of someone Essex had called Adolf. She resisted the urge to race across the room and yank Amber into motion, knowing that she would have to be more restrained about making an escape. Maybe if they assumed that the girls knew nothing, they would allow them to leave unharmed. If they knew that she knew, there would be no hope.

She forced a grin and made her way to the couch on jellyfish legs. “Come on, Amber. Time to go.”

Amber looked at her with eyes that refused to focus. “Go? Already?”

“Yeah, I told Aunt Glynis I wouldn’t be late.”

“Your auntie, huh?” Essex asked.

Melanie tossed her head and giggled. “Yeah. The truth is, I told her I was coming here tonight — I can never fib to her — and I know she’ll be worried and tell on me if I don’t get back early. She’s that way, you know.”

Amber’s eyes rolled, and she stood up. “You told? You said you wouldn’t tell. Your grandma finds out, and she’ll go straight to my folks. Shit, we gotta go.”

Essex grinned and handed Amber the cup he held. “Drink the tea first. You can’t go home under the sheets … drunk. Come on, tip the cup.”

Melanie couldn’t let her drink it. There was no telling what he might have put in it. “No, Amber. We don’t have time. We’ll get you some coffee back at my place.” She reached for the cup, but Essex grabbed her arm.

“Let her drink the tea. Meanwhile I’ll give you the grand tour. An extra few minutes won’t hurt.”

She tried to break free of his grasp. “Yes, it will. We have to go now.”

His grin disappeared and was replaced by a hard stare. “I don’t think so.” His fingers dug into her flesh, and he jerked her into motion. “Now we’re going to take the tour.”

“No!”

Amused eyes turned to stare. There was no sympathy in any of them.

Adolf eased Amber back down onto his lap.

Essex pulled Melanie from the room.

Melanie’s head reeled as he forcibly led her up a flight of stairs and into a large bedroom. Locking the door behind them, he pushed her roughly onto the bed and began to tear at her clothes.

Panic flooded her. “What are you doing?”

“What do ya think?”

“You can’t.” Her mind raced. “I’m pregnant.”

He grinned. “Oh, I like that.”

“I told my aunt. She — ”

A hard slap silenced her. “Don’t give me that crap. You figured things out and made that up. I’m no fool, love.”

Within seconds, he had her jeans down. “I like to take my women before we get down to more serious business. It makes things so much more intimate. Besides, you’re the first real witch I’ll have ever had, and I can’t wait to explore. I’ve decided to call you Damiana, because you’re an aphrodisiac.”

Melanie screamed as he pressed himself into her. “Please?”

“Oh, so you’re begging for it now; I thought you’d like it. There’s a lot of kink we’re going to get into together before you go under knife. Trust me, Damiana, we’re going to have a real good time.”

Melanie had trouble walking when they returned to the party. Most of her bruises were hidden by the long black robe he made her put on, but her face was swollen, and her lips, bloody.

The living room was darker than it had been before, and everyone else now also wore black robes. After her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she scanned the area to find Amber. It took a while before she realized that her friend was lying on top of the now closed casket. She was naked and tied down by leather straps. Amber looked at her with eyes that were no longer fuzzy, but wide and apprehensive.

“What are they doing, Melanie? What are they doing to me?”

Melanie raced to her side and fumbled with the restraints. “You’ll be okay. We’re getting out of here.”

Essex grabbed Melanie’s hands and grinned. “Don’t be silly. You’ll ruin all the fun.” He shoved her into Judas’s arms, who held her in an iron grip.

Essex stripped himself of clothes. “Like the sacrifice, the priest performs naked.”

“Sacrifice?” Amber wrestled with her restraints. “Oh, sweet Jesus, he said sacrifice. What’s going on? Melanie, help me.”

“Darlin’, Melanie’s not going to help you; she’s going to help me.” Essex moved to claim a dagger from the arsenal on the wall. “I always wanted to work side by side with a witch. Might be I’ll learn something.”

Melanie was frozen by Amber’s horrified stare.

“You’re with them? I thought you were good. Oh, my God, the preacher, my dad, they were right about you.”

“I’m
not
with them.”

Essex laughed. “She’s not only with us, but was just initiated by the Devil himself.”

“Oh, Melanie.” Amber’s voice was bitter with what she saw as her friend’s betrayal.

“Don’t believe him, Amber.”

Amber’s eyes told her that she did.

The others in the room began to chant, urging Essex into action.

When Amber saw the dagger in his hands, she emitted a scream more horrible than any Melanie had ever imagined. “Don’t kill me! Don’t hurt me! Please? Anything, I’ll do anything,
but just don’t kill me!
”

Melanie held her breath in disbelief as Essex taunted Amber with the sharp tip of the blade. “How should I do it?” He ran it lightly around her face.

Amber, her eyes bulging with terror, began to hyperventilate.

He moved the blade to her chest. “How about I cut out your heart?”

Melanie wanted to plead and rage but was too stunned to utter a sound.

The knife moved to Amber’s belly. “Or how about a simple gutting? Is that the way you want to go?”

The chanting stopped, and everyone waited in morbid anticipation.

“I think I’ll just keep it simple tonight.” Essex said. Laughing, he slit her throat.

Melanie watched in horror as her friend died.

Chapter Ten

1941

Montvue, Colorado

The Hawthornes’ celebration of the pagan Yuletide was camouflaged by the trappings of the Christian Christmas. A holly wreath, symbolic of the Holly King of the waning year, hung on the door. It represented the mourning of his passing away at midnight on the eve of the Winter Solstice. It was then that his six-month reign was surrendered to the Oak King of the waning year, whose presence was celebrated in the huge oak root that was laid in the fireplace as Yule log, and the sprigs of the sacred mistletoe that graced Hawthorne Manor’s multitude of doorways.

However, the mood of the Hawthornes, like the mood of the country, wasn’t entirely festive.

The head of the Hawthorne family was Tony, the only child of Denver and Sylvan. Denver was killed in a combine accident a decade earlier. Sylvan, declaring that Denver’s death had been a blood sacrifice to Mother Earth, buried him and then simply lay down and died herself. With the passing of her husband, it seemed her own life work was completed.

Tony was a practical and dictatorial man. The mystical natures of his parents caused him to rebel and become their opposite. He married Beatrice MacDonald, of the Scottish MacDonald family of witches, and had two sons — Alan and Cliff — and a daughter named Glynis. The children, like the father, were inclined toward rebellion.

After sundown on Midwinter’s Eve, the family gathered together in the parlor and lit the Yule log. Dancing candlelight and the flaming log illumined the room, while a punchbowl full of brandy-laced eggnog warmed its inhabitants. In lieu of a formal dinner, the maid, Natalia, set out a buffet: a cold tray of sliced ham and assorted cheeses, freshly baked poppy seed rolls, roasted chestnuts, pomegranate seeds, mincemeat pie, and plum pudding.

Beatrice raised her glass to make the toast. “Blessed be the rebirth of the Sun God.”

The others raised their glasses in response. “Blessed be the Oak King.”

Beatrice downed her eggnog, and tottered unsteadily to the punchbowl for a refill.

“Don’t you think you should eat something, Mother?” Glynis asked.

“Eggs have lots of protein, dear.”

Glynis, sitting on the floor in front of the fire, drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. There was no reasoning with her mother about her drinking. And it seemed to be getting worse. She sighed in resignation and gave thought to her own plight. It reminded her of the plans she had made for later that evening. “When the log burns down, I’m going to take the ash and spread it over the fields. It’s an old Yule fertility spell I’ve discovered.”

“And from whom did you discover it?” The imperious tone belonged to her father. It always made her cringe.

“Dori’s mother is a German witch. It’s from her tradition.”

“Dori again, is it? I thought I made myself clear on the subject of that damn sod farmer. You’re too good for the likes of him. I had him investigated. His family actually lives in a sod house, along the Platte River in Nebraska.”

“Father, I’d like to get married before I’m too feeble to care. I love Dori, and he’s one of us. Why won’t you give him a chance?”

Tony finished off his drink — he was drinking straight scotch — and immediately refilled his glass. “You’re my daughter, and you’ll obey me.”

“No, I — ”

“I hear Dori’s going to enlist right after the first of the year, so maybe the Japs’ll kill him for you, Father,” Alan said.

Tony raised his glass to Alan. “Not a bad plan.”

Glynis stuck her tongue out at Alan, and he chomped his teeth at her playfully.

“I’m enlisting, too.” Cliff’s pronouncement gave birth to a fearful silence.

Glynis held her breath in wonderment. He was her twin brother, and yet he never ceased to amaze her. Well, if he could find the strength to openly defy their parents’ will, she should be able to as well. But so far she had lacked the courage to tell them what she had done.

“Excuse me?” Tony said at last. His face held a tinge of purple.

“It’s my country, and I care what happens to it. I know you’re planning to buy draft deferments for Alan and me; I know you’ve got the bribable connections. But you never asked me about my feelings. You never ask anyone about their feelings.” Cliff’s voice was calm and sure. It sent a shiver through Glynis. She had never been more proud of him.

“But the curse,” Beatrice said in a small, pathetic voice.

Cliff shook his head. “If the curse is going to get me, it’ll get me wherever I am. I’ll not live my whole life in fear.”

Beatrice refilled her glass; this time from the bottle of scotch. “We’ll have to deliver the Corn Maiden to the Hunters this evening so they can add it to tomorrow’s feed.” The Corn Maiden was the last handful of corn reaped from their fields that year. It was a Yule tradition to feed it to cattle so that they would thrive during the following year.

A change of subject didn’t change the mood.

But Alan managed to add a little levity. He tossed a brightly wrapped present to Cliff. “Well, seems my present to you is by far the most appropriate of the bunch.”

Cliff opened the package. It contained a roll of toilet paper which had a caricature of the German Fuhrer drawn on it. The words written below said, “Wipe Out Hitler.”

Glynis slipped away from the house shortly before midnight with the ashes from the Yule log securely contained in an old, covered metal bucket. The night was cold and clear; the sky glittered with points of fire, and the earth sparkled with patches of ice. The crust of snow crunched beneath Glynis’s feet as she walked beneath the veil of moonlight through the grounds of Hawthorne Manor, out the south gate, and toward the fields.

When Glynis neared the edge of farmland that her family had nurtured for the previous seventy years, she was overcome by melancholy. Her gift of foreknowledge told her that within a generation the Hawthornes would no longer own it. Even though she was sure of her facts, she didn’t understand why they were going to manifest. Cliff was committed to the land and would continue to operate the farm by their father’s side. And if only the family would accept Dori, they would find that his earth talents were exceptional. The only explanation revolved around the possibility of something happening to prevent Cliff and Dori from carrying on the agricultural tradition Great-Grandma Rose had established. The fact that both men were readying themselves to enter the war seemed the only answer, and it filled Glynis with anxiety.

She came to rest at the fencepost on the corner of the northeastern cornfield, and looked up at the sky to study the bright orb of moon. Whenever she looked at it, she saw that in the not too distant future men would travel to it in ships similar to airplanes. She never analyzed the scientific improbability of such a vision, but merely noted it. It made it hard for her to view the moon as something sacred, worthy of veneration, as the Hawthorne Book of Shadows had told her it was. There was a lot about the religion of her ancestors that she couldn’t accept. However, the religious superstition aside, the magical knowledge of her people was profound. Her sight told her that science would someday acknowledge the supernatural principles she and her kind had always accepted.

Tonight the moon had an especially hypnotic effect on her, and she had trouble looking away from it. As she stared, the bright image doubled, and soon she was looking at two round beams of light. Apprehension rose and quickly turned to fear as she felt the lights bear down on her. She struggled to avert her eyes as the beams came closer. She uttered a cry of alarm and tried in vain to move out of their path —

“You okay, honey?”

Dori’s voice broke the spell.

The moon rode alone high in the sky, and Glynis was grateful.

“Fine.” She stuck her trembling hands deep into the pockets of her coat so that he wouldn’t see. She had always been overly concerned with appearances, and hadn’t yet learned to completely let down her guard with him.

“Did I startle you?”

“Yes.”

He wrapped his long arms around her. “Oh, woman, how I want you.” His voice was husky with need.

“I’m yours, body and soul.”

“Did you tell them?” he asked.

How can I tell them I married the son of a sod farmer who has the illustrious job of porter at the local train station?
“Not yet. Tonight wasn’t the right time. Cliff announced … ah, he’s … oh, what are you doing?”

His hand opened the button on her trousers. “I’m going to take you right here and now.”

Glynis’s knees grew weak at the sound of his words. He was so terribly sexy. “It’s a little cold, don’t you think?”

His mouth moved to her ear, and he breathed his warmth into her. “We just have to be creative.”

She clung to him as their tongues sought each other out, and their cold fingers sneaked inside each other’s clothing to find heat and give pleasure.

Glynis was lost in the moment when the harsh glare of two headlights fell upon them. Startled, they pulled away from each other. The headlights resembled the twin moons she had witnessed earlier, and in her fright she tried to bolt, but tripped over the bucket of ashes. She and the ashes spilled onto the ground. Dori moved protectively between her and the car.

“Who’s there?” The car was only about a hundred feet away.

Too busy to hear it coming
, Glynis thought as she floundered on a patch of ice in an attempt to get to her feet.

“I tol’ you to stay ‘way from that goddamn sod farmer, and here I find ya with him, doing what? What did I see?” The drunken voice belonged to Tony.

Blood pounded in Glynis’s ears. Her father could be a mean drunk. “Daddy, don’t get mad. I can explain!” Her right foot slipped again, and she fell down on her knee with a painful thud. “Get out of here, Dori. He gets crazy.”

“Well, then I’m not going to leave you alone with him.”

“He won’t hurt me, but you’re a different matter.”

“We’re going to have to tell him sometime.”

“Not now. Not when he’s drunk.”

“‘Xplain?” Tony said. “How can you ‘xplain a son betrayin’ his own father? Cliff has no right … How can you ‘xplain a daughter who defies? Tell me, girl!” The sound of his rage mixed with the sound of impending tears.

“Go, Dori. Believe me.”

Dori turned and helped her to her feet, then began to edge away into the night.

“That’s right, boy. Run away. Make like a rabbit.”

Dori quickened his pace, and Glynis sensed his humiliation.

Shame filled her.
I don’t have your courage, Cliff. Don’t know how I’m going to tell him
.

“Don’t wanna do it, but I gotta teach ya, girl! Must learn to obey … I’m the boss.”

The engine revved, and before Glynis could react, the car lights — the two bright orbs of light — quickly descended on her. Disbelief flooded her. Her father couldn’t really mean to hit her, could he? But as the car neared, she quickly accepted the harsh reality of his betrayal, and her limbs went into frantic action. She scrambled to dodge the oncoming vehicle and lost her footing again on the ice. She fell to the frozen ground, where she tried to roll out of its path. When she realized that she wasn’t going to succeed, she emitted a shrill scream of terror.

It was then that Dori threw himself in front of the car.