22
“I love you, Daddy,” Katie said in post-coital bliss. “I'm a broken li'l girl without you. You give me purpose, make me feel loved.”
“You are loved, sweetie. What we have is special.”
“I know, Daddy.” Katie absentmindedly fondled his genitals. “I missed you so much when I was little.”
“I'm sorry, sweetie. I was a bad dad. But I'm here for you now.”
“That's even better. And I'm still little. For you.”
“And I'm badder than ever.”
Katie, purring, wriggled closer. “It's okay. You're everything I ever wanted. Better still, you allow me to be everything I ever wanted to be.”
“How so?”
“The object of all your sexual desires.”
“I'm a nasty man.”
Katie giggled.
“And, I do believe, you enjoy having an audience. Look, I see him.”
This time, unlike the other times he and Katie had mentioned a presence to each other, Brant teased. He didn't see the apparition, or whatever it was, briefly in the reflection of the mirrors on the ceiling, nor the mirror on the dresser.
“Watch this,” Katie said, implying the entity. She dove down to take Brant's semi-erect penis into her mouth and begin to suck it in and out.
“That's enough for now, Katie. The show is over.”
“Maybe we'll give an encore performance later.”
“Maybe.”
“Mm... my pussy tastes so good on your cock, Daddy.”
“Keep talking like that, young lady, and I'll blister your ass.”
“Promises, promises. My ass tastes good on your cock, too.”
Brant swatted her bottom. “That's enough. I have a few things to do before our encore. Here,” he tossed her the television remote control as he levered himself out of bed, “watch something naughty while I'm gone. Want something to drink while I'm up?”
“I'll sip some of yours, whatever you have.”
Brant stepped into pajama pants and glanced in the mirrors before leaving the room. He hadn't noticed any odd reflections this time but had the sense of being followed as he left. He'd brought his smart phone with him. As he passed Jenna's door it flew open. Jenna, looking strung-out in her tight top and panties, said, “I need more. You've got to hook me up.”
“You've had your dose for the day.”
“No, that last one was short. I—”
“I don't want to hear it. You're getting more now than ever, without paying a dime. You'll get more tomorrow.”
“I earned it.”
“Bullshit. I hired a maid two days a week to help cover days you work at the coffeehouse. This conversation is over. See you in the morning, my sweet little coke whore.”
Brant continued on down the hall, past the vacant guest room, down the stairs to the wet bar to pour himself a Jack on the rocks. Alex Lancaster had left on a flight for Kansas earlier today, Jenna had driven him to the airport, and with Joey Kincaid not flying in until tomorrow and planning to stay at a hotel with his team, Brant wondered who else might be in the house.
He checked his phone for messages and found a text message reply from Evelyn. He'd invited her to the party he was throwing Saturday night. The party, to celebrate the new Austin site he'd leased, planned to be one hell of a blow-out. He'd given Katie and Jenna basic guidelines and a budget, and told them to go wild. The entire team would be there, including Joshua Elliot (who'd confirmed via email, Brant noticed) and Alex Lancaster, who would fly back for the weekend.
While the Austin site wouldn't go on-line for at least two months, Brant still considered this a major milestone. Even the Witch Bitches planned to be there.
The reply from Evelyn said that she'd attend, along with a date.
Fine. Brant didn't care.
He splashed more Jack over rocks and, after a glance inside the library where he noticed Goth Witch and Fat Witch, he went to the executive suite which he found vacant – a shadow flitted across its mirror.
Brant, slightly shaken but growing accustomed to the apparition, returned to the library and went to talk to Goth Witch.
“Is Brainy around?”
“Yeah, actually she is.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs, reading a book.”
“Of course.”
“Kimber and I will be leaving in a few. We found some sick shit, you'll wanna hear about it.”
“Can Brainy fill me in?”
“Sure, but—”
“But what?”
“But... well, we're ready to do the spell, Lisa and I.”
“Lisa is Brainy, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then just say her name. Say Brainy.”
A flustered look crossed Goth Witch's face.
“Is Fat Witch useful?” Brant asked.
“What? I mean, yeah. She's great with research, once you tell her what to look for.”
“I want to do those spells, but I want to talk to Brainy first. In the next day or two. Stay available. I have your cell number, don't I?”
“You entered it under 'Goth Witch'.”
“Yes. Right.”
Brant turned to walk away.
“What about my $150?”
“I said we'd settle up this weekend. What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
Brant sipped his drink as he left the library. He went directly to the stairs and followed them down to the basement. He passed the markings on the floor he'd made to communicate with Suvos and Kasas and test the add-in card. He'd yet to receive a reply from Intel regarding a chipset modification he'd requested. He wanted them to manufacture a dozen motherboards to his specifications but had yet to receive a quote. Not that it mattered. He needed them and money was of no importance. He needed cryptic symbols etched into the circuit boards, what Intel would consider motherboard “graffiti” and shouldn't hesitate to accommodate his needs. But those symbols, combined with special code compiled by Derek into the software they would run would basically interface with the systems or ether or whatever it on Kasas connected to on the other side. Except, in the case of the custom motherboards, bandwidth increased exponentially. It was akin to a comparing a rickety old one-lane bridge to, say, the Golden Gate bridge. Throughput beyond comparison. Add-in card versus Brant's motherboard design.
All the oils, elements, and what-have-yous Brainy had requested appeared to have been received and stored away in an apothecary box. The door to the sub-basement was closed.
Brant knocked at the door and said, “Brainy, you in there?”
“Yes, Mr. B. Please, come in.”
He entered to find Brainy Witch sitting cross-legged on the lumpy mattress with a half-dozen black candles lighting the room. An assortment of things, such as books, notebooks, pens, pencils, a tablet computer, cell phone, half-empty bottle of red wine covered a battered table he didn't recognize.
“Did you move in?” Brant deadpanned.
Brainy smirked. “Hope you don't mind. Just thought I'd crash here for a few days. Mom is so judgmental and Dad is being a jerk.”
“I understand. If anyone asks I'll tell them this room is off-limits.”
“Thanks, Mr. B.”
“I hear you're ready to cast the spell.”
Brainy pushed up her glasses. “There are a few.”
“So I assumed. There are a few I'm interested in, too. At the Austin site, here at the house, you know, the ones we've discussed.”
“Yes. There's also another one.”
“Another one?”
“Yes. Look…” After flipping through pages she angled a book in her lap toward him and pointed to a page. “What we have here is a coven. You've done magic, right?”
“Yes, a couple of simple communication spells.”
“You want to do more. You want me and the rest of the girls to help you.”
“Of course.”
“That's a coven. I could tell, based on that dog-eared book in the lib
rary, and all the mirrors, of course, that you have, shall I say, a sponsor.”
“Yes, I suppose a sponsor would be accurate terminology.”
“I can help you. We can help you. We have to combine our power to gain more power.”
“Yes. Yes, indeed.” Brant could see it more clearly now. These weren't merely students he was working with, at least in the case of Brainy Witch. She was a peer similarly seeking knowledge. Seeking power.
“We should perform the spells we've discussed,” Brainy said. “But we should also consider performing this ritual, here in Podor del Coven.
Brant skimmed the entry. “Interesting,” he said.”
“I thought you might like it.”
“But where would we get virgin blood?”
Brainy Witch, averting her eyes, stated, “That won't be a problem.”
Brant nudged her chin so her eyes connected with his.
“Are you sure,” he asked, “are you sure this is something you want to do?”
“I want to be a part of this system, this network, this interface that you're building.”
“You know about that?”
“I hear things and I make assumptions.”
“It's not just the wine talking?”
Brainy cut her eyes at the open wine bottle. “I like the numbness but that's not it. I also like the power. I like the feeling of power you and these books impart in me.”
“I see.”
“I know you're with Katie.”
“She's my daughter. My biological daughter.”
“That carries powerful significance.”
“It's important to me beyond any significance of occult power.”
“I didn't mean to imply otherwise. For me, this is a matter of peers gaining strength.”
“I understand, Brainy, I truly do.” Brant kissed her forehead and said, “I have nothing but respect for you. And I believe we should perform the power ritual soon, both in this house and at our Austin server location.”
“Thank you, Mr. B. I wholeheartedly agree.”
Brant drained his glass of alcohol. “Do you need anything? More wine, food? Just name it.”
“I'm pretty simple. I just need for you to believe in me.”
“Oh, I do.”
Brainy smiled with contentment.
“Okay, then. I'll leave you in peace. We'll do the power spell here, tomorrow.”
“Sounds great, Mr. B.”
“Goodnight, Brainy.”
“Goodnight.”
Goth and Fat Witch had left when Brant went upstairs. He checked that the front door was locked before mounting the stairs. He couldn't shake the feeling of being followed, but he'd grown somewhat used to the feeling. It still unnerved him but he found it a necessary evil. He stopped in a bathroom just off the hall on the second floor to stare in the mirror above the sink.
“You watching me, Suvos? You love knowledge. Do you like witnessing the carnal knowledge I impart in my own blood relative? Or is she imparting it in me? I hope you're getting off on it because I know I am. I've never felt so alive as I do now, and I believe neither has Katie. We were meant to be together, no matter what her mother or Evelyn or anyone else believes. I'm a bad, bad man, who few people understand. Perhaps you, a supernatural entity, do understand. Is that you who is following me? A representative of yours? I suppose it doesn't matter. I hope you, or whoever it is, enjoys what I'm about to do.”
Brant switched off the light and strode down the hall to the master suite, where Katie lay in bed, with toys filling her vaginal and anal cavities as she watched pornographic images on a large-screen TV.
Brant shed his pants and, stepping onto the mattress, offered himself to his daughter.
“Make me hard,” he said, “tonight I'll leave marks.”
“Yes, Daddy. I love marks.”
23
Brainy had been right. After reading carefully through the ritual in Podor de Coven Brant knew it should be performed first, since it stood to reason they solidify and magnify the power of the coven before directing their efforts toward amplifying power within a structure, be it Brant's home or the Austin server site.
He'd text messaged Brainy of his desire as soon as he realized this, the morning following their conversation.
I agree, she'd replied.
Can the rest of the coven be here tonight? he'd inquired.
I'll ask.
Tonight or tomorrow. They are either in the coven or not.
Her reply had come two hours later: We'll be there tonight.
Brant had known Brainy would be here because her stuff was still downstairs. But he wanted them all to come, including Sassy, who he hadn't seen since that first weekend. He'd suggested Katie and Jenna enjoy a night out, dinner, dancing or a movie, and later pick up a few items – he'd made a list – at a 24-hour department store, primarily to prevent any distractions.
Brainy arrived first.
“Would you like a drink?” Brant asked, knowing she would.
“Soon,” Brainy said. “I want to freshen up. There's plenty of time though. The girls won't be here for a while.”
Brant, sipping a Jack and Coke in the library, prepared himself for tonight's ritual.
Perhaps an hour later, Brainy Witch entered.
She wore a long-flowing black gown; her raven hair cascaded over creamy shoulders, and Brant realized she had went out of her way to acquire the garment. She would want to know:
“You look beautiful, Brainy.”
She smiled demurely. “Thank you, Mr. B.”
He knew tonight was important to her. It was important to him. However he also intuited another item which he inquired about:
“You plan to ask permission to perform another rite, don't you?”
“Perhaps.”
“Florecimiento de la Bruja.”
Brainy looked away.
“Simply ask,” Brant urged.
“Yes, Mr. B. Florecimiento de la Bruja.”
“I'm honored. Not all witches can perform this rite. You're very wise to do so.”
“Thank you, Mr. B.”
“You hoped to perform it tonight, didn't you?”
“Yes. May I ask a favor of you?”
“Of course.”
“Share a bottle of wine with me.”
“I have the perfect bottle. I've been saving it for an occasion such as this.”
He offered his arm and she accepted it. Then he escorted her to the wet bar where he retrieved the vintage bottle of wine and – to Brainy's amusement – popped the cork.
“To magic, power, and a new coven,” Brant toasted.
“Cheers,” Brainy agreed.
“I couldn't do this without you,” Brant said.
Brainy looked away. “Sure you could.”
“No,” Brant hooked her chin to catch her eyes, “I couldn't. I couldn't think of a better peer to enter into a coven with.”
“But the other girls...”
“Helpful, yes, but not like us.”
“Perhaps,” Brainy conceded.
They drank wine and discussed details of the rites, and a few other rites Brainy thought might be worth pursuing, until Goth Witch and Fat Witch arrived together. Brant offered them drinks while Brainy and he worked to empty their bottle of wine. Shortly thereafter Skinny Witch and Sassy Witch arrived in Sassy's car.
Sassy, a glass of cheap red wine in hand, asked the other girls, “Are we sure we want to go through with this?”
“Of course,” Brainy said defensively. “Why wouldn't we?”
“Well... Isn't it obvious?”
Brant sipped wine as he curiously watched to see how this played out.
“It's obvious that you're a wannabe poseur,” Goth Witch said.
“I'm no wannabe poseur,” Sassy said. “Right, Kimber?”
Goth Witch laughed. “You're asking Kimber? Shit, she doesn't care.”
“I can't believe you're in favor of this,” Sassy said to Brainy.
“Are you serious?” Skinny replied. “Lisa is hella serious when it comes to magic.”
“What about the rest of you?” Sassy asked the group as they sipped drinks.
“Are you kidding?” Fat Witch said. “I did worse at the last frat party I went to.”
The comment prompted smirks and chuckles.
“What are we waiting for?” Brainy said after draining her glass. “Anyone who doesn't wish to participate doesn't have to.”
“That's right,” Brant said, also standing. “Either you're a part of this coven and have access to the library, or you can go home and study for mid-terms.”
“I'm in,” Goth Witch said.
“Me, too,” Fat Witch added.
Skinny fell into line as everyone headed for the basement.
“Shit. Count me in, too,” Sassy said.
Brant had already arranged candles in the basement and Brainy lighted them. They used illustrations from Podor de Coven to mark symbols on the floor in charcoal and ash.
Once everything, including a ceremonial dagger and burning witch weed had been readied, Brant gathered the young women around the basement and began the rite by reading from the tome.
“Te conceda, espíritus. Nos reunimos por el poder. Puedes oír! Grant us power, oh spirits!”
“Somos uno aquelarre,” the coven chanted. We are one coven.
“Venimos a ti, desnuda de alma, hambriento de poder!” We come, bare of soul, hungry for power.
Electric lighting flickered and went out. The atmosphere grew heavy – movement caught Brant's eye in the mirror over the apothecary box.
“We are not alone,” he stated.
“Somos uno aquelarre,” we are one coven, the wiccans repeated.
“We come,” Brant bellowed, “with Podor de Coven as our guide, a bastardized compendium of information specific to witchcraft, compiled from many sources, to perform El Rito de Brujas Renegadas, the rite of renegade witches. We seek not marriage with the devil for power, but an incestuous union among ourselves, with Earth Mother and spirit sponsors as guides. Una unión incestuosa de poder! Una ofrenda de sangre virgen!”
Brainy, recognizing her cue, took the ceremonial dagger and stepped inside the ring of the coven to kneel before them. She said:
None More Black Page 15