Stalking Tender Prey

by Constantine, Storm

  Othman came to fill the dark space at the doorway, his eyes lit by blue sparks that seemed to shine from somewhere deep within him, perhaps through centuries of time. Weakly, Owen raised his head, but could summon no feelings within him of surprise, dread or welcome. Instead, he experienced a sense of contraction, as if an unknown power within himself was coming sharply into focus, to be directed against a single objective. He had no idea what that might be.

  Othman slipped into the room like a shadow. He gestured with one slender hand, a summoning. ‘Rise, Owen.’

  Owen sat upright, and the sheet fell away from him. He became aware of the air being chill against his skin, his breath steaming.

  ‘Come to me,’ Othman said.

  Unable to resist, Owen swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked towards the shadowy shape at its end. The floor was icy cold, burning into the soles of his feet. He had to tear his toes away from the bare wood with each step.

  Othman reached out with the fingers of one hand and touched Owen’s cheek. ‘You are so angry,’ he said. His breath came as a billowing steam, creating a screen of mist between them.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Owen replied. He frowned. It was the truth. He felt nothing.

  ‘But you are,’ Othman insisted in a soft voice. ‘I can see it and smell it. You abhor me.’

  Owen shook his head, perplexed. ‘No...’

  Othman also shook his head, and his hair threshed about his shoulders as if he were floating underwater. He undid the belt of his dressing gown, and it slipped from his body. ‘Look upon the agent of your displeasure.’ He indicated himself. ‘This flesh which has destroyed the harmony of your life. How you must detest it!’

  Owen tried to take a step backwards, but found he was unable to move. ‘I don’t detest you... It’s... It’s...’

  ‘It’s what?’ Othman snapped. ‘The fact that you feel you have no power any more, that you are a victim? The fact that Lily is no longer your faithful companion, but my lover? The fact that Daniel gave himself to me today?’

  ‘No!’ Owen pressed his fingers against his eyes. ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Yes, it is. There is nothing of yours I have not touched and possessed. Soon, I shall even possess your body as I have taken those whom you love. You have no power to resist me.’

  Owen felt as if a swirling cloud of red mist was forming around him, spinning ever faster. He wanted to break it down, deny it, but its spiralling tendrils held him in their grip and he could not dispel them. ‘Daniel’s not in Little Moor. You said so... Those people have him...’

  Othman laughed. ‘I lied. Daniel has betrayed you, Owen. He laughed about you, as Lily did. Both of them prefer my attention to yours. You are weak, unskilled, a fumbling, hopeless lover. Give yourself to me now. Let me teach you.’

  ‘No!’ Owen could actually see the cone of spinning red light now. It separated Othman and himself from reality, enclosed them in a constricting space of hatred and deceit. Othman’s skin and hair were glowing. He looked supremely beautiful, full of self-love. Owen felt a spurt of anger rise up within him like a fountain of hot blood. He wanted to smash that perfect face, claw away its smile, break the flawless limbs, burn away the genitals.

  Othman laughed. ‘Come on then, boy!’ He gestured with his hands. ‘Think you can best me? Come and try!’ He laughed again, the essential heart of mockery.

  ‘You’re evil!’ Owen cried. He tried to lunge forward, but an invisible barrier held him back.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Othman admitted. ‘I can be, but I am also the soul of love, and that is what fires you with envy. You can never be to Lily and Daniel what I am. You are like a ghost, with no substance, just a persistent whine and clumsy paws that never make contact. I despise you!’

  As Othman spat out the final words, Owen experienced a feeling of shattering, as if he’d fallen through a sheet of ice. Suddenly he had hurled himself forward and before he could gather his thoughts, found he had grabbed Othman round the neck. He could feel Othman’s laughter vibrating in his throat. The man clearly had no fear. I can kill him, Owen thought. If I believe it, I can kill him!

  Othman’s arms snaked around his body, and he suddenly went limp in Owen’s hands. A thrill of conquest shivered through Owen’s limbs. He shook Othman’s neck between his hands and Othman’s hair fell over his arms like a sheaf of unravelled silk. I am strong, Owen thought and bore Othman to the floor. Othman was moving feebly now, as if life was draining from him. Owen pressed harder, and then Lily’s face was before his eyes. It was Lily whom he was strangling. With a yelp, Owen released Othman and jumped up. Looking down, he could see Lily naked upon the icy floor, holding out her arms to him. ‘My beloved, he tricked us! Don’t kill me! Love me!’

  Owen was stunned. For a moment, he turned away, unsure of whether to believe what he saw at his feet. Then Lily’s voice came to him, pleading. ‘O, he seeks to destroy us. We must combine in love to defeat him!’

  Owen looked back. It was definitely Lily lying there, rubbing at her neck with one hand, the other reaching out to him, the fingers clenching and unclenching.

  ‘Oh Lily!’ He gathered her up in his arms, buried his face against her neck. He felt her reach out for his cock, grip it in her hand. He moaned and pulled her against him.

  Then the laughter came, and Owen realised it was Othman in his arms, Othman’s hard fingers painfully gripping him between the legs. With a howl, Owen pulled away, hit out at the hand that held him.

  Othman let go and licked his fingers lasciviously. ‘You taste sweet!’ he hissed. Still the red cone of light spun around them, growing in intensity as Owen’s fury rose within him.

  He hurled himself against Othman once more, pushing the man’s head back against the floor with a satisfying crack. His fists made contact with yielding flesh, beneath the ribs, in the stomach, between the legs. Othman had no time to retaliate. His breath came out in grunts with each strike. Owen began to weep, every blow becoming harder. The red haze around them was bloody, and blood ran across the floor. Owen felt something heavy pressing against his spine, gripping his shoulders, pushing itself into him. It was like the expression of his hatred formed into a demon which wanted to possess his mind and his flesh. He felt its limbs ease down inside his own limbs, its phallus rear up inside his cock, hard and fierce. Othman’s face suddenly loomed before him, like a transparent three dimensional image.

  ‘You only want men. You are afraid of women!’

  Owen let out a furious cry of rage. ‘Then let me be what you say! Isn’t it what you want?’ The words seemed not to be his own. He was only a channel for them. His mind was spinning, spinning, matching the rhythm of the cone of light. It was the demon who directed his flesh. He was becoming smaller and smaller, condensing down until his consciousness occupied only the farthest corner of his mind. And the demon, his beast self, plundered Othman’s body, its clawed fingers ripping skin and tearing hair. A rapid succession of images flashed before Owen’s eyes. He was raping Daniel, abusing Lily, then it was his own mother, Helen, beneath him, moaning in terror and pain. With this final image, the last of Owen’s will surrendered and fled. His body ejaculated and was still and the red cone of light diminished, flowing into Owen’s body like smoke.

  Othman rolled Owen off him and stood up. His body was unmarked by bruises or scratch marks. Easier to strengthen his body against the predations of the boy than against the cat-creature at Low Mede. Tentatively, he nudged Owen with his foot. ‘Mine now,’ he said aloud, then laughed softly. ‘All mine.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Thursday October 29th: Little Moor

  In the morning, Lily met Othman coming out of Owen’s bedroom. She sensed his vitality, and half-dreaded that if she went in to look upon Owen, he would be nothing more than a shrivelled husk. Othman smiled at her. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost, my Lily.’

  ‘Is he all right?’ she couldn’t help asking.

  Othman’s smile widened. ‘Of course. What ar
e you thinking of? Go and see for yourself.’

  Lily went into the bedroom, with Othman following. Owen lay on his back in the bed, apparently asleep. His arms were straight by his sides above the duvet, his legs straight.

  Othman touched her shoulder. ‘Don’t wake him,’ he said. ‘He will sleep for today. Tomorrow night, he will fulfil a momentous function and he must be prepared for it.’

  ‘You’re going to use him and Daniel to wake the flame completely, aren’t you?’ Lily said. There was bitterness in her voice. ‘Aren’t I good enough?’

  Othman turned her round and propelled her back towards the door. ‘Lily, don’t be absurd! You have no idea how important you are, or how powerful. But we all have our roles to perform. You could do the job, yes, but it would be selfish to deny Owen his part.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Lily said weakly.

  Someone knocked on the kitchen door.

  ‘Answer it,’ Othman told her. ‘It will be Emma.’

  Reluctantly, Lily obeyed him and went downstairs to let Emma in. Ray Perks was with her. ‘Leave him in the garden,’ Lily said, and Emma spoke a few abrupt words over her shoulder. With a dour glance at Lily, Perks shambled over to the lawn and sat down.

  Emma smiled brightly and came into the kitchen. ‘What another lovely day!’

  Lily pulled a sour face. To her, the day felt less than lovely. A distant but nagging depression hovered menacingly in the corners of her mind.

  Othman appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Emma, I want all the old Grigori dependants to be at The White House tomorrow evening. Can I trust you to arrange that?’

  Emma nodded. ‘Yes. Will you replenish any of them then?’

  ‘I hope to. You must all wait for me there. A ritual will be enacted at the High Place to awaken the power of the flame. When this is done, I will come to you.’ He smiled. ‘We shall then set about rebuilding the Murkaster stronghold.’

  Emma’s expression had become slightly tense. ‘What about outsiders? No doubt some of them will be there.’

  Othman shrugged. ‘They will be taken care of. Don’t worry. Now, Lily, may I use the phone?’

  Othman rang Barbara Eager at The White House and gave her terse instructions concerning the barbecue on Friday night. Lily could not hear Barbara’s responses, but could imagine her bewilderment at Othman’s tone. Still, that was not her worry now. Othman had told her that Barbara was nothing, a tool.

  Outside, in the garden, Raven still lay concealed. He could sense them now, gathering force, coming nearer. They had the faces of men, but the bodies of bulls. Their feet were the claws of lions, and they were winged like sphinxes. Raven could feel their inexorable march, their fiery purpose. Soon, they would be here.

  The heat beat down, squeezed the air, dried the fruits rotting upon the trees. The corn fields, shorn, were bleached by the sun, and crackled beneath its glare. The sun was an eye of fire in a white sky. Ghosts walked in daylight, and there were flashes across the fields, as if hot rays of light licked fragments of broken glass. On the hills around Little Moor, vague shadowy shapes took their positions and waited. They furled their wings around them, and hid themselves from all but the most acute perceptions.

  Othman waited until the afternoon before venturing over to Low Mede.

  He walked into the house without ringing the doorbell, or waiting to be admitted. He found Louis in his study, drinking whisky. Othman looked for signs that might suggest Louis was weakening, such as an old photograph album open on the desk, or an evocative song being played on the hi-fi system, but Louis seemed composed, if drunk, and there was no light of sentiment in his eyes.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Othman asked him.

  Louis nodded. ‘For whatever it is I have to do.’

  ‘Good. Where is Daniel?’

  Louis got up from his chair. He had a tendency to pause before standing erect, a legacy of his banished pain. ‘In the cellar. I thought it best to keep him and Verity there.’

  When Othman came down the cellar stairs, Verity cried out and shielded her brother with her body. She recalled Othman asking her questions about Daniel only a few nights before, although she could remember the conversation only dimly now.

  Othman was annoyed that Daniel had been injured. He made no remarks about it to Louis, who after all had simply been following orders, but privately deplored the boy’s condition. More precious energy would have to be expended patching him up, as Daniel would be useless for his purpose in this state. Othman’s nostrils flared at the stench in the cellar. Perhaps he should have come sooner. Verity cringed as he reached down to stroke her hair.

  ‘Hush, child. Give Daniel to me.’

  Verity whimpered and curled herself more tightly around Daniel. ‘No! You fiend!’

  Othman laughed. ‘Quite.’ Daniel appeared to be unconscious, his aura was weak and pale. ‘Come now, Verity, don’t be foolish. I’ve come to make Daniel better.’

  Verity’s face, when she raised it, was red and streaked with tears. She looked feverish. ‘Like you made my father better? No! Leave us! Raven will come! Raven will help us.’

  Othman straightened up, and directed a questioning glance at Louis. ‘Raven?’

  ‘Her cat,’ Louis replied. ‘I shot it after it attacked you.’

  ‘Oh, of course,’ Othman said, as if being reminded of some trivial event. ‘He’s dead, Verity. Your cat won’t save you.’

  Verity let out a wail. ‘I don’t believe you! He isn’t dead! He’s not just a cat. He has power! More power than you!’

  Othman ignored her remarks and turned again to Louis. ‘The beast was probably some scrap of a Murkaster creation still remaining in the vicinity. I should have been more alert for such things. Still, it’s been destroyed now.’ He gently touched Raven’s scratch marks on his face, which had faded considerably since the previous day. Looking at Verity now, he could see that she had allowed the creature to attach itself to her. There were remnants of its influence hanging around her still. It had possessed her, he could tell. Stupid girl. She’d had no idea what she’d been dealing with. He sneered at Verity. ‘You welcomed an incubus into your bed, yet you shun me. You’re pathetic.’ He gestured at Louis. ‘Bring the boy.’

  Verity attempted to prevent Louis from wresting Daniel’s lolling body from her arms, but Louis was strong now. He hit her in the face with his fist and she fell back onto the car blanket, where she uttered no further sound. Louis lifted Daniel in his arms. ‘Where are we taking him?’

  ‘St Shem’s. Can you drive? I don’t want us to be seen by any newcomers to this village, or indeed any casual observers at the Winter cottage.’

  Louis nodded. ‘The car’s in the garage. There’s a door through to it from the laundry.’

  ‘Good.’ Before they left the cellar, Othman paused to look down upon Verity. She was moving feebly upon the old blanket. ‘You may release her on Saturday,’ he said to Louis and then directed a lambent stare at him. ‘Love her, Louis, make her well. You must love your children.’

  Othman sat with Daniel on his lap in the back of the car as Louis drove his old Daimler up to St Shem’s. Daniel was semiconscious, and occasionally made a whimpering sound. Othman stroked his hair, which was spiky with blood. ‘I want you to remain with Daniel until tomorrow night,’ he told Louis.

  Louis glanced over his shoulder. ‘At the church?’ He sounded surprised.

  ‘Yes. He has to be prepared for an important ceremony which will take place on Friday night. He must be bathed and anointed.’

  Louis made a disparaging sound. ‘The church is virtually derelict,’ he said. ‘How can I bathe him there? How will I cook food?’

  ‘Daniel will be fasting,’ Othman said. ‘As for the rest, you will be surprised how many facilities St Shem’s has hidden away. Barbara can bring you food.’

  Louis stopped the car at the lych gate. Othman stepped out when Louis opened one of the rear doors for him. He sniffed the air and looked around to see if anyone could witne
ss what they were doing. When he was satisfied there were no prying eyes, he signalled for Louis to lift Daniel from the back of the car. Louis followed Othman up through the forlorn graveyard. Othman stopped at the main doors.

  ‘It’s all locked up,’ Louis said. ‘You’ll have to break in.’

  Othman turned and grinned at Louis. He flexed his fingers together and cracked the knuckles. ‘You think so? As it happens, I partook of a very fine meal last night which filled me with energy and strength. Watch this.’ He made an abrupt, flicking gesture with his hands at the door. There was a shock, as if something had invisibly exploded, and a strange, sour taste in the air. The door to the church stood open. There was no smoke, no sign of Othman’s power, other than the simple truth of the open door. ‘You see?’ Othman said. ‘No problem.’

  Louis had the wits to looked disturbed. He shifted the weight of his son in his arms. ‘Let’s go in, then.’

  Once inside, Louis began to ask awkward questions concerning why Othman had chosen this particular site, and what the ceremony tomorrow night involved. Othman was forced to seal Louis’ lips with a few puissant words, to quell his curiosity. It was not desirable to explain things to Louis. Like Barbara, he was merely a tool, and in Othman’s consideration, deserved no explanation.

  Othman directed Louis to lay Daniel out on the floor before the altar, while he made an inspection of the building. ‘I will bring you life once more,’ Othman told the brooding stones. ‘Be patient.’

  In the vestry, he located the entrance to the underground chambers he’d expected to find, hidden beneath a threadbare carpet. After discovering the main power switch to the building, Othman descended the stone steps that led under the vestry. Fortunately, the electric lights still worked, although some of the bulbs had blown.

  He emerged into a round, domed antechamber where once the ceremonial robes would have hung, and all the sacred artefacts would have been stored. Now, it was empty, but for a faint lingering reek of ancient incense. Doors led off the chamber, and behind one of them, Othman located the ritual bathing area. The waters had been drained from the pool sunk into the ground, but after a brief investigation, he found the stop taps and water began to splutter out from the faucets around the rim of the pool. He would have to leave the water heating for a while, and certain items needed to be brought up to the church, such as towels, ointments, incense and candles. Lily and Emma would have to prepare the unguents and incense.