Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  Any minute now.

  The minutes ticked on, turning into hours, then days, then nights.

  Once, Amy tried to refuse the funny liquid with the bitter taste, even though her empty stomach cramped hungrily and her parched lips craved moisture. She thought maybe the bitter liquid was the reason she was so tired. But her captor – she thought it was a man but couldn’t be sure because of the darkness – tipped her head back and poured it down her throat, jamming his finger into her mouth when she closed it in protest. She sputtered on some, choked a great deal, but the majority managed to make it down. She tried to vomit after he left but the sleepiness was already overtaking her. After that, Amy drank without hesitation. The liquid was vile; being forced was worse.

  The creepy-crawler was moving again. Flicking it off would do no good, it would only return. No, she had to kill it, like she killed the rat. She had to remain still and bide her time. And time was one thing she had plenty of. The insect moved tediously over one arm, across her shoulder, then down the other. With a speed she was surprised she still possessed, she brought her right hand over and smashed it against the other, flattening the creature between.

  She felt a fleeting pierce of pain. So it had stung her then. Or bitten her. Hopefully it wasn’t poisonous. If it was, she would die. At this rate, she’d probably die anyway.

  Where was her dad? Why wasn’t he coming for her? Maybe he was coming now, any minute.

  Amy closed her eyes again, visualizing her family as she drifted back to sleep.

  **

  “No fire insurance,” Jake said, replacing the receiver. Two long days had passed since the fire, and Jake was staying at Cari’s house, attempting to sort everything out. “My insurance was cancelled last month, apparently by my direction and signature. Only, I never signed it.”

  Cari looked worried. “Is that legal? Can you prove it was forged?”

  He shrugged. “I was issued a refund cheque that I apparently cashed. Look, it even shows up in my bank statement. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Report it to the police.”

  Jake sighed. “Yeah, they can add it to my file. Should be getting quite thick by now.”

  “Have you talked to Detective Birney this morning?”

  Jake nodded. “Twice. Still no sign of Amy, nor the Kreschenski boy. At least the police are finally taking their disappearances seriously. I hope to God that wherever they are, they’re together, taking care of each other. The police are going to look into the Satanic angle. I have an appointment later today with Sergeant Benny Carmichael – he’s the department’s cult specialist.” Jake sighed again. “I’ve been talking to Alex’s parents, they’re nice people. Alex is an only child and they’re pretty torn up.”

  “Do you think it’s connected with the Keeler girl’s death?”

  “Has to be. That night at the Emergency Ward, Amy was talking to someone. She said she’d never seen him before, but they think it was Alex. They showed his photograph around and someone confirmed it. He was obviously in trouble. Maybe Amy was covering for him.”

  “What about Jason Vandercamp? Have you talked to him?”

  Jake shook his head. “Gil won’t let me. I’ve phoned several times but I’m stonewalled. I tried catching him at school, but he’s not going – supposedly ill.”

  “Surely the police have questioned him?”

  “Yes, but he’s squeaky clean.” Jake rubbed his jaw. He hadn’t shaven yet today and his face was prickly. “It doesn’t make sense. I’ve met Jason dozens of times and I’ve always liked him, he’s a fantastic kid. Hard to believe it’s a facade and he’s involved.”

  “If he’s anything like his old man, I’d be suspicious.”

  “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. I think Gil set me up. But why? And how? Why offer a dream job then snatch it away?”

  “Revenge?”

  “I’ve never done anything to him. I’ve known Gil since college but we were never friends, more like passing acquaintances. I was surprised he even remembered me.”

  “Jealousy, then?”

  “Jealous of me?” Jake snorted. “Why? Gil has the perfect life: successful company, wealth, beautiful home and yacht, good friends, loving family. I can’t compete with that, my life’s in the toilet. Absent wife, problematic children... no, he can’t be jealous of me.”

  Cari considered. “The answer’s there, somewhere, even if it doesn’t lie with Gil. Any other enemies?”

  Jake shrugged. “Nope.”

  “Come on, everyone has enemies. You were very successful. No one gets to the top without crunching toes.”

  “What do you mean were successful?” Jake asked testily.

  “Sorry, wrong tense. You are successful.”

  “No, the past-tense is appropriate. I have no job, no house, and thanks to this cancelled insurance, no assets except for a small cottage in Ontario. Not even a spare set of clothing. I’m dead-broke, a pauper, desolate.”

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  “It’s the strangest thing – for the first time in years, I feel alive. Crazy, huh? I’m desperate about Amy, of course, can’t think of anything else, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking but like you, I believe she’s okay. Well, not okay, but alive, and I’ll find her. Perhaps I needed the freedom from materialistic possessions to realize how unimportant they are.” He paused for a moment. “Now why are you smiling?”

  “Because I like you. And because you look so cute with your stubbly face and uncombed hair.”

  “Cute? No one’s called me cute since I was six.”

  “Then it’s mighty overdue.”

  “That’s not the only thing overdue.” He hesitated, his voice cracking. “Cari, thank you for everything. How can I ever repay you for helping us, for sharing your home? For believing in me?”

  “Ummm, let’s see. You can clean my oven, haven’t done it for so long it’s a fire hazard.” Her face fell. “Sorry. That was thoughtless.”

  He smiled. “No offense taken, and I already cleaned it. Yesterday.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, and you’re right: it was a fire hazard.”

  “Ah. Well, you could take out the garbage.”

  “Okay.”

  “And you could fix my leaky faucet.”

  “Consider it done.”

  There was an intimacy here. They’d only known each other for a few days but the proximity of living under one roof, combined with the tremendous stress of outside forces, made it seem as if they’d met months ago. Everything was heightened, fast-paced, as if the fabric of time was stretched like salt-water taffy, what used to take days was accomplished in minutes.

  He was moving closer. She could feel the heat from his body. “And you could – oh!”

  Jake snaked his arm out and drew her close. “You smell delicious.” He breathed in deeply. “Like apples and cinnamon and fresh-scrubbed laundry.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “I’m glad you like me, Cari Valentine, because I like you, too. A lot.”

  “Really?” She found herself staring at his left earlobe, finding it fascinating. “Even though I’m a witch?”

  “Especially because you’re a witch. You’ve certainly bewitched me.”

  He was hesitating, she felt the moment he would draw back and she made the decision for him, leaning into his embrace and turning her face up to his, closing the distance between their lips.

  Jake tried to fight it for the barest of instances and then groaned. His lips captured hers hungrily, and he forced himself to hold back, to keep it tender, gentle. A kiss which promised nothing... and everything.

  “Ah,” Cari murmured. Her heartbeat increased dramatically and she thought Jake must surely feel it against him. Or hear it. It pounded like it wanted to spring free of her chest and dance a little ditty on her kitchen floor. Daisy uncurled her head and looked up from her mat. “It’s alright, Daisy, I’m safe.” The dog thumped her tail once and went back to sleep.
/>
  Jake pulled away first and she took a moment to compose herself, her cheeks warm and flushed. Goodness. This man had an effect on her. “It’s not easy being with me,” she told him slowly. “I’m set in my ways. My witchcraft might confuse you but I can’t change who I am.”

  “Don’t want you to. It won’t be easy being with me, either. Nothing’s certain except my need to find Amy. It won’t be easy, maybe even dangerous. Are you sure you want to get involved?”

  “I’d say I already am.”

  One hand captured hers and he laced their fingers together, while his other hand cradled her head, stroking her hair. Her long blond hair fell almost to her waist like a silken waterfall. He could, he realized suddenly, spend the rest of his life running his fingers through it. “Yes, but you don’t have to be involved.”

  Cari looked thoughtful. “I dreamt of you that night so perhaps I’m meant to be involved. I don’t know how yet, but I am.”

  “Can you check your crystal ball?” He was only half joking. Her craft was foreign to him but he was willing to use anything that might help locate Amy... no matter how unorthodox.

  “I did last night.”

  His hand stilled. “What did it say?”

  “It wasn’t talking. But my horoscope said I was going to meet a handsome, rich guy.”

  “That rules me out.”

  “You think? It said rich, but it didn’t say anything about money. Maybe it meant rich in troubles.”

  “Well, then, I’d be your guy.”

  “Especially if I believed in horoscopes.”

  “Do you?”

  “Never rule anything out. That’s my motto.”

  “Good motto.”

  She smiled. “What’s yours?”

  “Haven’t got one.”

  “That’s tragic. Everyone needs a motto.”

  “How about: never order steak at Denny’s.”

  “That’s not a motto, that’s a truism. Come on, you can do better than that.”

  He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

  “Ah, Edmund Burke’s quote. Yes, I like it, quite fitting given the situation.”

  “It’s as close as I can get at this point.”

  “Fair enough. Where do we go from here?”

  “Back to the beginning, I guess. Skeeter’s going to school today, he needs some normality in his life. He’s coping fairly well, considering everything. Better than me, anyway.”

  “Kids are amazingly resilient. So, where’s the beginning?”

  “The symbol Amy had carved in her arm – a pentagram. I’m heading to the library to do some research. I can use their computers plus check out the archives there. That should give me a good base to determine the extent of local cult activity.”

  “I can do even better. I’ll organize a coven meeting tonight. We can meet with some witches, brainstorm a little, feel them out.”

  “You think witches might have some link to this?”

  “No, but they’ll have information. You don’t get accused and persecuted for something without understanding it. Satanism is the dark side of witchcraft. Although vastly different, they’ll always be linked, through ignorance, tradition, superstition. It’s a good place to start. We can also hold a ceremony for Amy, maybe our combined powers will unearth something. Are you game?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  **

  Jason Vandercamp knocked lightly on his father’s study door. This room was off-limits to Jason. Ever since he’d been a toddler, he respected his father’s domain. He’d been in this room only a half-dozen times, mostly to be reprimanded for some childhood misbehaviour. When his father called him in, Jason entered the room with something akin to trepidation.

  It was a masculine room. Leather furniture, walls of books, dark colors. None of the modern art that graced Marvelworks. This room always reminded Jason of an old boy’s club... even his mother stayed away.

  “Yes, Son? What is it?”

  Jason cleared his throat nervously. This was difficult for him. Although he loved and respected his father, he also feared him. His father was a very powerful man. Although Gil had never laid a hand to his son, Jason had witnesses Gil’s wrath towards others. Gil Vandercamp was not a man to antagonize.

  “It’s... my friends. Do you know what happened to them?”

  Gil sighed. “Jason. We’ve been over this before. You’re becoming tedious.”

  “Please tell me. I’m sixteen, old enough to know the truth.”

  Gil studied him thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you are.” He tapped his pen against the exquisite mahogany desk. “I’m sorry, Son, but your friends are dead.”

  Jason inhaled sharply. “All of them?”

  “The girl... what’s her name? Elise? She’s dead, of course, you already know that. That was sloppy, by the way. You shouldn’t have been mixed up in that. I don’t like it when the police become involved.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

  “Yes, I know, things got out of hand. You had no business being at that club. You should have told me where you were going.”

  Jason bristled but remained quiet. Gil liked to know his every movement and usually Jason complied. But that night... Halloween night... he wanted to do something different. Impress his friends. What a fiasco.

  “The boy, Alex, was taken care of. Car crash, officially, except his body won’t be found. He was quite fun while he lasted – I can see why you liked him.”

  Jason forced himself to remain still. “Where did it happen?”

  Gil continued to tap his pen. The repetitive sound was irritatingly loud. “Usual place. The body was disposed of in Cadboro Bay – they’ll think he was driving too fast, hit a puddle and failed to navigate the corner. With any luck the car will get caught in the riptide and will be dragged down. If they ever find the body, it’ll be picked clean. See how it’s done, Son? No loose ends.”

  “Dad. Those were my friends.”

  “And you were getting too attached. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, Son, you can’t get too close to people. It’s not safe. You put yourself at risk, you put me at risk, and you put the Temple at risk.”

  “But they were going to join. They were going to become members.”

  Gil sighed. “You don’t get it, do you Jason? We’re different from other people, not like regular mortals. We’re not ordinary, we’re special. You can’t get attached. Those kids were nobodies, nothings. You know that. They never would have fit in. Stick with the kids from the Temple, alright?”

  Jason fought back tears. He must not show his father his emotions; that would make everything worse. He couldn’t prevent the slight crack in his voice, though, and when he saw Gil’s eyebrow rise, he hated himself. “What about Amy? She wasn’t a nobody. You said so yourself, you said she was special. You told me to make friends with her.”

  The tapping ceased. “You’re right. Amy Montclaire is special.”

  Jason didn’t miss the inflection. “Amy’s alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “You think that’s wise?”

  Jason prepared his answer carefully. “Guess not, it might upset her to see me.”

  His father watched him carefully. “On the contrary, it might help her feel she has an ally. She’s a pretty little thing, don’t you think?”

  Jason shrugged. “I’ve seen better.”

  “Surly though. Considering her parentage, I suppose it can’t be helped.”

  “Where is she? Can I see her?”

  As soon as he asked, Jason realized his mistake. Gil had trapped him... again. Jason had shown too much interest. Gil’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You do like her, don’t you?”

  Jason shrugged again. “Not particularly.”

  “Liar. I’ve known you all your life, you little snot. You
can’t fool an old fool. Yes, you can see your girlfriend. You can see her all you want. In fact, I encourage it. Amy Montclaire is going to be my new breeder.”

  Jason couldn’t help himself. “No! Dad, no!”

  “She’s a prime specimen. She’ll make lovely babies, perfect for the Temple.”

  “Dad! She’s only fifteen!”

  “Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed. And Son, I have good news for you. You get to be the inseminator.”

  “Dad!”

  “No, don’t thank me. Thank Seth. It’s His direction. You can see your sweetheart tomorrow. I’ll even clean her up a little for you. She’ll need it, she’s lying in her own filth. I tell you, Son, some people have no class, no dignity. You think they could shit in the corner, but no, they do it in their own bed. Worse than dogs. Even a dog won’t shit in his own bed.” Gil looked at his son again, measuring him. “Now scram, I’ve work to do. And remember, don’t start getting all weirded out on me, like last time. Remember that? Do that and your little friend will pay. Like the last one did. Remember her? Remember Lucy?” He smiled pleasantly as Jason nodded. “Good. Tell your mom I’ll be ready for dinner in an hour, okay? I think we’re having prime rib tonight. Can hardly wait. Oh, and Son? Who loves you most?”

  “You do, Dad.”

  “And?”

  “And I love you too. You’re the best father in the whole world.”

  Gil smiled as Jason closed the door behind him. His son was a good kid, he’d do what was expected of him. He might not like it, but he’d do it. Just like Gil had done for his own father.

  Things were falling into place nicely. Jake Montclaire was ruined, according to plan. By now he would have discovered his house insurance null and void. The man would be penniless and powerless. After word got out about his treachery at Marvelworks, no one would hire him. And the word was out. By now, every computer game manufacturer in the country knew about Jake Montclaire. Vids-4-Kids might have hired him, of course, until they found the defect in Pluto’s Playground. The game was useless. An internal bug would slowly begin to eat away the program memory. In another week or so, Vids-4-Kids would be conducting a massive recall. Not good for their image. And they would have Jake Montclaire to thank for it. It was safe to say that Jake Montclaire was unemployable, at least in the computer and video game industry. If Gil could get the industrial espionage charge to stick, then Jake might be looking at prison and he’d been unemployable anywhere. Well, except for a hamburger joint, earning minimum wage. It’s what the bastard deserved.