Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  A sudden intensity entered the room, a feeling of being watched. Gil narrowed his eyes and tensed.

  He waited.

  The intensity probed softly, feeling him, studying him. Gil kept his mind carefully blank.

  It was gone. Silently and completely. Had he not been attuned to the storm, reaping the energy, he might not have noticed it. Had his brain been busily occupied with a thousand other matters he might have been missed it completely.

  Gil pondered this, the storm forgotten. What could it mean? His fingers drummed on the desk, in tune with the falling rain. Many minutes passed before he slowly rose and crossed the dark room, placing his feet as easily as if it was broad daylight. Gil felt very alive. There was work to be done.

  **

  Jake insisted on leaving immediately. He couldn’t understand why the witches wouldn’t agree with him. Cari was hovering soothingly and he impatiently brushed off her rationalizations. “I say we break into that bastard’s house and grab Amy immediately.”

  “No, no,” Aurora Blake stated. “You mustn’t. We need to formulate a plan.”

  “We don’t need a plan – we need action.”

  “Aurora is right,” said Cari. “You can’t go over there, willy-nilly in the middle of the night. How will it look? You’re liable to be carted away in a police car, labelled a disgruntled ex- employee with a cross to bear.”

  “Interesting choice of words,” Jake stated flatly. “I do have a cross to bear and it’s a hell of a big one, and I’d like to plunge it into Vandercamp’s heart.”

  “Jake –”

  “Okay, so we call the police and take them with us.”

  “And tell them what? That Aurora projected herself astrally into the Vandercamp house and located Amy?” Cari snorted. “Yeah, that would go over well.”

  Jake looked from face to face. He realized they were right. “Then we break in.”

  “And end up in jail? You wouldn’t be able to help your daughter from a jail cell,” said Aurora. “Besides, panic would ensue. Amy could be injured.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and Jake watched the rapid movement under her eyelids, as if she was watching an unseen panorama unfold. “Yes, I am quite certain. To proceed at this moment will have catastrophic consequences for Amy and her companions. I see much bloodshed.”

  “Think about it, Jake,” Cari said, her voice maddeningly calm. “The last thing you want to do is alert Gil to your plan. He will have security and if he’s tipped off, he might move Amy and then we won’t know where to look.”

  He sat in frustration, running his hands through wild, dark hair. “I can’t sit around doing nothing! I know that lousy bastard is guilty and I’ve got proof. Accusations and testimonials a mile long from ex-cult members, from witnesses. Even from his victims.”

  Several of the witches exchanged glances. Jake tried to read them but failed. Cari looked worried and Aurora pursed her lips. “Take those depositions to the police. Get a search warrant. Do it legally and do it right.”

  “I want to do it now.”

  “Jacob, dear, be reasonable. You’re tired, angry, overwhelmed, certainly not thinking clearly. Not the frame of mind you need for daring adventures. Besides, I’m quite certain that a rescue attempt tonight would result in tragic consequences.”

  Jake shuffled uncomfortably. He hadn’t been called Jacob for a quarter of a century. “Tragic consequences? For whom?”

  “Amy, of course.” She clucked her tongue as if he should’ve known that. “Now, get some sleep, dear. Your problems won’t run away, they’ll still be there in the morning.”

  It had an authoritative ring to it and it made him pause. Could going immediately endanger Amy even more? He shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz. Maybe the old bird was right, he was tired and his head throbbed. He did feel overwhelmed. The thought of Amy captive in a dark basement made him crazy.

  “She can survive one more night,” Aurora added, as if reading his mind. “Remember, she’s not alone, she has companions.”

  Jake gripped the side of the sofa to steady himself. The room swam woozily. “Okay,” he consented through gritted teeth. “But first thing tomorrow – I’m not waiting a minute longer.”

  “No one expects you to, dear. Cari, take him to bed and stay with him. See that he sleeps. We’ll finish everything here.”

  Cari nodded and left the room with Jake. They walked upstairs, pausing to peek in at Skeeter. The boy was snoring softly, his skinny limbs askew. Daisy lay at the end of the bed like a sentinel, curled against his feet. She thumped her tail twice and laid her head on her paws, as if daring them to ask her to move. Jake crossed over and petted the dog, was rewarded with another single tail thump before she stilled. He straightened the covers and kissed his son softly. Moonlight streamed through a break in the clouds, illuminating the room eerily. “Nature’s night light,” Jake whispered, shivering inexplicably. Fatigue washed over him like a tidal wave, making it hard to put one foot in front of the other. Cari tugged his arm, leading him from the room. “You don’t need to stay with me,” he told her.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can manage to put on my pj’s and tuck myself in.”

  “I imagine you can, but that’s not why I’m staying.”

  “Oh?”

  She took a deep breath. “I need to be with you tonight, Jake. The truth is, I’m frightened, too.” She told him about the vandalism at her store, about the dead cat.

  “Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. “Can this nightmare get any worse?”

  “Please let me stay, Jake. I know it’s silly but I don’t want to be alone.”

  “I am so sorry for involving you in this, Cari. For putting you in danger.”

  “I’m supposed to be involved. Remember my dream? It’s my destiny.”

  He grunted. “Destiny? You really believe in that mumbo-jumbo?”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “No, it’s a copout. People refusing to take responsibility for their own actions, blaming the universe for their failures. Horoscopes, for example, such rubbish. Wear red, glean message from Aries acquaintance, avoid open potholes because you might fall in.”

  “Cynical.” She cocked her head. “What do you believe in?”

  “Haven’t a clue.” His voice was gruff. “Used to think I was in control of my life, but now...” He shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe. If someone told me a few weeks ago I’d be consorting with witches and tracking down a satanic kidnapper, I’d have laughed myself silly. What a difference a few lousy days make.”

  “Hold me, Jake, please.”

  He lay on the bed beside her, climbing under the covers fully-clothed and gathered her into his arms. The incense from the ceremony lingered in her hair and it tickled his nostrils. Never an incense fan, yet on her it smelled heavenly.

  Cari breathed deeply then said, “Aren’t you going to put on your pajamas?”

  “I don’t wear pajamas.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “Neither do I.”

  His cock twitched suddenly and her body stilled; she had felt it. Then she moved closer, rubbing against him. Her body was willing. Jake felt her erect nipples pushing gently into his chest, smelled the sweet scent of availability. And why not? They were both adults, consenting and free. He felt his body responding to her femininity and kissed her softly.

  Then, with immense regret, he pulled away and turned abruptly so his back lay against her. “Goodnight, Cari.” The timing wasn’t right. Not now, not like this with Amy’s fate hanging over them like a storm cloud. He would not use the lithe body of Cari Valentine to forget. Cari was too important. She deserved more.

  “Jake?”

  “I want you,” he groaned, gritting his teeth. “Jesus, how I want you. You have no idea.” He ached with desire as he visualized how wonderful it would feel to lose himself in her welcome warmth.

  She brought her arms up and loosely draped th
em around his middle. “I understand,” she murmured softly. “When the timing is right.” The words hung like an unfulfilled promise and he clenched his jaw, chastising himself for being such an idiot. Her warm breath tickled the back of his neck deliciously and he tightened his eyes in resolve. His hand found Cari’s in the dark and he clasped onto it tightly, like a lifeline. In all this muddle, all this confusion, all this angst, one thing was clear. Cari Valentine was right. She was his destiny.

  **

  Gil Vandercamp woke the sleeping girls, and amid groans and complaints, prodded them into leaving their dark quarters. “Where are we going?” Charise moaned.

  “Better not to know,” Gina remarked caustically.

  Gil smiled. Gina was his personal favorite. She was tough, like him. Her enormous belly swayed before her like a medicine ball. Also like him, Gina was a survivor. This baby would be her second gift to him. She had adapted to her situation so well that he would keep her for another contribution, and another, until her stamina and childbearing capabilities wore out. Some girls snapped after the first baby. A few, like Gina, were resilient enough to carry on indefinitely. Gil was reminded of another girl, May, who gave seven gifts in total. May could have kept on forever had she not bled to death giving birth to a coveted pair of perfectly formed twins. A shame. He’d rather liked May. And the twins were exceptional. His finest sacrifice yet.

  Lauren moved zombie-like, causing Gil to frown. That one wouldn’t last. Not with that attitude. He glanced at Amy, frightened looking but with her chin held high. Good. She might work out. She’d have to get pregnant fairly quickly though. Gil had special plans for Amy’s contribution.

  “Come on, ladies,” Gil said politely. “We don’t have all night.” He could tell that Gina was struggling. The baby’s head had dropped, making walking uncomfortable. Birth was imminent. He held out his arm, offering assistance which she shrugged off with a snarling, “Fuck you, asshole.”

  “Gina,” he clucked. “Such talk from a lady.”

  “Where are we going?” Amy asked, and Gil glanced at her, pleased at the deference in her tone. “Somewhere new. You’ll like it much better than this place.”

  “Someone wise-up to your filthy bag of tricks, Dickhead?” Gina hissed.

  Gil frowned. “Gina, I know that pregnant woman can be testy, but this mouth of yours is ridiculous. Please refrain from further vulgarities or I will be forced to cut out your tongue.” Gina shut up. “Good. Now is everyone ready?” He watched them exit. First Gina, eyes flashing, mouth clamped together in mutinous defeat. Then Charise, looking nervous. Next was Lauren, eyes blank and straight ahead, like a deer caught in headlights. Finally Amy, looking hopeful. Gil was touched. It was nice to have a fresh piece to work with. Exciting. Helped keep the boredom at bay.

  **

  Jason waited nervously at the top of the stairs. He’d known about the labyrinth of corridors and rooms carved below the estate but never imagined Amy would be there. He’d been forbidden since childhood to enter, and after being punished severely for disobeying at the age of nine when the urge to explore overcame commonsense, Jason had not been down since. What he remembered about downstairs was hazy.

  His father had agreed to let him see Amy in exchange for securing Skeeter’s affections. Jason felt a twinge of regret. He liked Skeeter, but Amy was more important. He could help her now and maybe help Skeeter later.

  Soon he would have sex with Amy. It was part of his promise to Gil. This didn’t seem strange since sex had been a vital part of this life since he’d been introduced to it by the elder women in his church at the age of twelve. He’d experienced sex with most of the women in the church and with some of the daughters. He liked it, okay. Who wouldn’t? Some of the men eyed him hungrily when he was younger but Gil had firmly put a stop to it. Jason was grateful. He heard horror stories from his friends and was glad to be excluded. Sometimes being the high priest’s son had its perks.

  Sex would be different with Amy. Warmer, more intense. Jason really cared for Amy. Liked her a lot, loved her even. Maybe one day they would marry. He was thinking about this when Amy reached the top of the stairs and as their eyes met he held out his arms. Amy hesitated for a moment, unwilling to trust him. But then the comfort of familiarity overtook everything else and she flung herself into Jason’s arms. “Oh, Jason,” she sobbed.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed, stroking her matted hair. She looked awful and he tried to hide his look of shock.

  “Please, Jason, take me home. Take me back to my daddy.”

  “Shhh,” he said, averting his eyes from his father’s knowing gaze. Jason turned away as the other girls shuffled past, trying not to look at them. He’d seen them before. Well, maybe not them, but others like them, and it always bothered him. Like seeing cattle. There had been girls like these ever since Jason could remember.

  Jason led Amy away and she followed, barely noticing they’d split from the group. She was crying heavily now. It had all caught up to her – the exhaustion, the fear, the worrying. Seeing Jason had brought everything to a pinhead. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, finally, holding his hand as she put one foot in front of the other.

  “Away. I’m taking you away.”

  **

  Dawn’s first rays painted the far eastern reaches of the wintery sky. Jake blinked twice and yawned. So he had slept a little. Amazing. For the first hour or so he doubted the possibility. With Cari nestled behind him, tantalizingly reflected in the adjacent mirror, illuminated ethereally by the dim glow of the outside streetlight, Jake felt his resolve crumble. Why not bury his pain for a brief while? Why not lose himself in Cari’s sweet distraction? Because, he told himself, coupling with Cari Valentine promised to be more than a diversionary tactic. When the time finally came, the wait would be worth it.

  A few hours later, he was sitting in Benny Carmichael’s office, waiting for the good sergeant to arrive. If Benny was surprised at Jake’s early arrival, he didn’t show it. He cut short Jake’s explanation by holding up a hand. “Let’s do this somewhere else, over some grub and a strong cup of mud.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Breakfast. Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m guessing you haven’t eaten.”

  Jake shook his head. “Eating’s not important in context with the urgency of my information.”

  Benny put his fingers to his lips and shook his head. “Not here,” he mouthed. Jake frowned but followed him outside the police station to the drab-grey sidewalk. Benny pointed. “There’s a greasy-spoon around the corner. We’ll talk there.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The walls have ears. You hear me?”

  “Your office is bugged?”

  Benny shrugged. “It makes sense to take precautions dealing with dangerous people.” They’d reached the street corner. The November sun did little to dispel the chill and a thin sheen of frost covered the pavement.

  Jake stopped abruptly, forcing the bigger man to halt. He stared at Benny as if seeing the older cop for the first time. Benny’s face was unreadable. “Are you saying the police station is compromised? That this cult has members on the force?”

  Benny took his arm and continued walking. “I’m saying no such thing. It pays to be careful, that’s all. Sometimes information, even things said in the privacy of one’s office, has a way of filtering through the system and leaking out.”

  “My God! Your office is bugged. That’s unbelievable.”

  “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Let’s play on the side of caution. Besides, I’m hungry and you look like you haven’t eaten in days.” They reached the restaurant and Benny opened the door, leading Jake to a quiet table in the corner. “You look bloody awful, Montclaire. Like hell.”

  “Thanks. As a matter of a fact, I feel like I’ve been in Hell. The full tour. Dante’s version.”

  “Oh? How was it?”

  “Overrated. Can we talk now?”

  “One minute.” Benny signalled the waitress a
nd ordered for both men. “Keep the coffee coming,” he told her with a wink, “and I’ll remember you in my memoirs.”

  “Forget about your memoirs and remember me in your tip.”

  Benny chuckled as she swayed off cheekily. “Alright, son, what’s chomping at your short hairs?”

  “I believe my daughter is being held prisoner at the Vandercamp household.”

  “Got proof?”

  Jake hesitated. “None that you’d believe. But you might find this interesting.” He slapped down a sheath of papers. “I downloaded this from the Internet yesterday. It concerns Gil Vandercamp and allegations of cult involvement. Most of it’s conjecture but some is fairly incriminating.”

  “Uh huh,” Benny said, shuffling through them. “Yes, this parallels my information. I learned something else that may or may not be relevant: Vandercamp is sterile, that’s why he adopted his son. The sterility stems from childhood abuse. Child Protection Services weren’t as prolific in those days but I dug up some old police reports. Seems Vandercamp’s father was an abusive alcoholic, beat the boy regularly. I mean, really cleaned his clock. As a child, Gil was hospitalized several times for injuries ranging from a broken arm to burns suffered from being tied to a radiator. The sterility likely resulted from being kicked repeatedly in the testicles, so viciously that he couldn’t walk for days. All this at the tender age of seven.”

  “Jesus.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Not much information about Mama Vandercamp. A background figure, probably abused. Today a kid like Gil would be apprehended and placed with a foster family. Back then,” Carmichael shrugged, “people thought it was a father’s right to discipline as he saw fit. Society didn’t condone it, exactly, just turned a blind eye. Anyway, the mother died when Gil was twelve and the father died under mysterious circumstances four years later.”

  “What happened?”

  “Beaten to death, dumped in an alley.”

  “Did Gil have anything to do with it?”