After a couple of hours passed—quite pleasantly, as far as Jack was concerned—Carly stood.
“Okay Uncle Buck, time to move that big body of yours out the door. Let’s leave these two a little time to themselves.” Buck rose slowly, favoring what appeared to be a sore knee.
“See, Jack, I didn’t tell you that I played in the Canadian Football League after I graduated from Rutgers. I didn’t make much money, but I did get this bum leg. Count yourself lucky you got out when you did. You seem to have your head on your shoulders. And look after our little girl here. You’ll have to answer to me if anything happens to her.”
Jack shook the large man’s hand. Buck’s smile was warm and wide, but somehow Jack knew that the man made the comment with intent.
“Here, take my business card. You need anything, don’t be shy to give me a call. Let’s get moving, girl.” He gently took his wife’s arm and escorted her out after she gave both Sarah and Jack a kiss on the cheek.
Jack and Sarah finished their drinks. Jack swirled the remainder of his beer around the bottom of the glass. “You know, they seemed pretty normal. I’m glad you tricked me into meeting them.”
“Did you expect them not to be normal? What do you mean by that, Jackson Walker?”
Jack hesitated, wanting to get the words right. “I mean, I have this preconceived notion of what a Satanist is like. You know, come to think of it, they didn’t mention religion once.”
“Why should that surprise you? They’re normal people. Well, they are very rich normal people. I told you, we’re not fanatics. Would a Presbyterian speak any differently? I doubt they would, but they probably wouldn’t have a drink. Look, I don’t want to put any pressure on you. I just want you to be comfortable with the fact that I am what I am. I’m not a monster.”
Sarah stared at the table for a moment, and when she raised her eyes, there was a twinkle in them. “Say, let’s get out of here. Buck already paid for our drinks. Should we walk down to the Naples Pier? It’s turned out to be a gorgeous night now that the wind’s died down.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I was down there. My dad used to take me there when I was a kid. He’d drop me off with my fishing rod and some money for bait and I’d be set for the day.”
Jack took Sarah’s hand in his as they made the ten-minute walk towards the Gulf.
“It’s another world in this town, isn’t it?” Sarah said. “I feel like a beggar walking past all of these wonderful homes with their perfectly manicured hedges and properties.”
“Yep, it is. There’s big money in Naples. I think it has one of the highest incomes per capita in the States—a lot of old money. Too bad I didn’t make it in football, mighta been able to afford something. Cape Coral just might have to do.” He chuckled.
They reached the pier and walked up the old wooden steps. The structure ran roughly four hundred yards out into the sea. There was a structure a third of the way out where bait and refreshments could be purchased during the day. Now the pier was deserted except for a couple of old hard-core fishermen down at the end. They walked out to see if anything was being caught. After a brief conversation with one of the men, they turned to walk back. Sarah stopped halfway and stepped to the side, leaning her arms on the wooden railing.
“You never know what you’re going to get out there,” Jack said, joining her. “I’ve seen tarpon, large sharks, barracuda, lots of stuff.”
“It’s like you’re in your own little world out here,” Sarah said softly.
Jack wrapped his arms around her from behind, leaning into her. “It can get pretty busy in the day, but yeah, you’re stuck out here, like in the middle of the Gulf.” Her smell was pure intoxication, and the warm salt air added to the allure.
“Now, Jackie. I want you now.”
“What?” he said reflexively. “People could come along any time.”
“So? Do I look like I’m concerned about people?” She hiked her dress up around her waist, and pulled her thong panties to the side. “Take me from behind right now.” She pushed her perfect round bottom up against his now very hard erection.
Jack looked left and then right. It looked clear for the moment, though there were people milling around the entrance to the pier. He quickly unbuckled his belt and top button and slipped his pants and briefs to the ground around his ankles. “Right here? You can get in trouble for this kind of thing.” Sarah reached behind and grasped his erection and deftly guided it into her.
“Fuck me hard, Mr. Football Star.”
He looked around one last time. “Damn it.” He didn’t need any more encouragement. He grabbed her hips and began thrusting, holding nothing back. He was too hot for the moment to do any differently. What he hadn’t anticipated was that she was a screamer. He’d experienced a few of them in the past. He resisted the urge to put his hand over her mouth; somehow he knew she wouldn’t let him. Sarah had no concern for the noise she was making. Jack was sure the fishermen could hear, as well as anyone coming onto the pier. She took one of his hands and placed it on her breast.
“I like my nipples to be squeezed hard.”
“Jesus,” he obliged, making her squirm under him, bucking harder into his groin. She let out a very loud, primal moan. He wasn’t sure if Sarah had climaxed, though he figured she must have. He lost final control and released himself into her. She kept pushing onto him for a few moments. Jack could see some people wandering onto the pier. He hoped they had not been lured onto the dock by their little show. He released himself from her warmth and quickly pulled up his pants. He blushed as he couldn’t lose his erection and turned toward the railing.
She turned around and shifted her clothes, the hem of her dress dropping to its normal length. She smiled, putting a naughty finger to her lip.
“Yes, Jackson Walker, you will do for now. Are you embarrassed?” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek as two couples walked past them; it was clear they had seen or heard what just happened by the awkward looks on their faces.
She grabbed his hand and started walking toward the pier’s exit. “They just wish they had the guts to do what we just did.”
5
Satanic Rites
“WE’LL BE LATE IF we catch another light. The priestess doesn’t tolerate lateness.”
“I wasn’t the one who decided to go back for round two, Sarah. Besides, I’m still very uneasy about the whole situation. Frankly, I wouldn’t mind being a bit late, or maybe missing it altogether. I agreed to meet some of your friends, and I’ve been to a few of your tea parties. I get that you’re not bad people, but I’m very skeptical about the devil-worshiping thing. I promised a good friend of mine when we first met that I would stay clear of any hocus-pocus.”
“Hocus-pocus?” Sarah scowled. “Who’s your friend?”
“You know, the guy I told you about, my fishing buddy Perry.”
“We’ve been together for nearly two months. Do you think I would lead you into something that might harm you?”
“I’m not worried about being harmed, Sarah. I’m thinking about my job and the associations. No matter what you say to me, whatever you want to call it, Devil worship is not normal. I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t afford to lose my job either.”
“I want you to see the whole picture. I don’t want there to be any skeletons in the closet or secrets between us,” Sarah said. “I don’t want there to be a reason for our relationship to develop any problems. I’m not asking you to take part. I just want you to see the things you might be the most bothered about. I won’t ask you to come again. Keep an open mind.” She squeezed his leg.
Jack could not shake off his unease.
“Would you mind stepping on the gas?” Sarah checked her watch again.
Jack frowned. “I’ll get us there. It’s not too far, I think, from the directions you gave me. Pretty close to Goodland. I know the area well, used to fish there a lot.”
Jack pulled onto a dark gravel road, which passed into a thi
ck forest. The large trees draped over the road, moss hanging nearly to the ground. A white hand was painted on a tree trunk indicating the turn, according to their instructions. “What’s with the hand?”
“It represents the left-hand path. It’s a phrase used by the followers of Set to describe their view of religion and its place in the world. Our congregation is called The Church of the Left-Hand Path.”
“Okay, you’re weirding me out again, and this road is getting pretty rough.”
“No need to worry, it’s just a point of view—just keep driving.” She smiled at him, scrunching up her nose. “Satanists believe that there is an inner sanctuary, or understanding, suppressed by more conventional beliefs. Mainstream religions use the power that is brought forth for the greater good of God, sometimes to the detriment of their followers. Look at some of those Southern evangelists who scammed all of that money from their devotees and built a theme park. ‘Thy will be done.’ This phrase is known as the right-hand path; it stresses the importance of pure devotion to God, whether it is the Christian God, Muslim, or whatever religion: ‘you will do My will.’ On the other hand, ‘my will be done’ is the directive of the left-hand path, that of Set. It stresses the importance of the individual and his or her personal enlightenment. Many who follow the left-hand path do not refer to a specific deity, but rather to a greater entity whose name does not particularly matter. He has been known as Lucifer, Set, Satan, and many other names throughout the history of the world. It’s the individual who is important, not the god. We are free to think what we want. Some, tragically, take this philosophy to extremes.”
“Heavy stuff,” Jack said. “Something irks me, though. Why do you have to belong to this group to believe that the individual is important? If the point is to have your own opinion, why do you have to belong to a group of people?”
Sarah hesitated for a moment. “Good question. I ask you, why do people go to college? I’d say, besides getting a good job, enlightenment. There is comfort in the fact that you can discuss various issues or philosophies with others. Group discussion pushes you to delve deeper into issues than you would on your own. Sometimes a concept needs to be brought to your attention, something you might never have thought about—at least that’s how it was for me. I guess ultimately there was one being who started all this and we believe him to be a higher, greater entity.” She smiled. “The Church has given me the opportunity to see that the left-hand path makes more sense to me in our modern world. I don’t know . . . I find that enlightening.”
A red glow emanated from the road ahead. As they came closer, Jack saw several vehicles parked along the side of the road. He parked at the end of the long row of cars. As he got out, he could hear the hum of people talking. Together, they walked toward the glow, which he guessed might come from a fire.
He was correct. Flames from a large bonfire lit the night, casting shadows upon the moss-covered trees that surrounded a large clearing. Dozens of people sat cross-legged around the pit that contained the flames. He recognized several of them from the discussion nights. He nodded to those who looked up as they approached. Jack stepped over the ring of white powder encircling the group. One woman sat alone within a smaller circle, closer to the fire. The heat didn’t seem to bother her. She wore a very sheer, dark grey dress which emphasized her generous figure. She held herself confidently as she gazed at those who joined. She nodded to Sarah and then to Jack as they took a seat.
Sarah whispered, “I’m sure she was waiting for us. This ritual is supposed to clear your mind, opening it up to Set.”
Jack squirmed where he sat, clearly distressed with Sarah’s last comment. He remembered going out on a fishing charter a few years back. The weather had been wicked and he’d spent the entire trip vomiting. He’d promised himself that he would never go deep-sea fishing again, and hadn’t. As he settled in next to the fire he promised himself to never go to one of these horror shows again. He was pissed that Sarah would think that he would be remotely interested in it. This crap is like something out of a movie. He shivered as he put his mouth to her ear. She shook him off, gesturing toward the priestess. I should get up and walk the fuck out of here.
The woman raised her hands, breathing deeply; her movements were smooth and practiced. Jack could see that within her circle, etched in powder, was a pentagram, each point of the star nearly touching the edge of the circle. A thick, heavy-looking candle sat on each point. He had seen enough demonic horror flicks to recognize the symbol. The woman, he surmised, was the priestess. She lit another candle, this one a bit smaller, and raised it over her head.
“Azazel,” she said in a loud, even, slow vibrato.
The hair on the back of Jack’s neck stood on end. He looked at the others around the fire and realized that he was the only one not caught in rapture. He needed to leave, but somehow couldn’t; his legs were glued to the ground. The priestess brought the candle down, close to her groin. “Belial.” After a few moments of meditation, she raised the candle to her chest, and then to her right shoulder, chanting, “Asmodeus.”
Jack moved to whisper something to Sarah but she cut him off before he could say anything. He tried again. “Sarah—”
The priestess stopped, her eyes turned to Jack, riveting him to where he sat. There was a momentary silence. Jack looked up to see the congregation watching him. He lowered his eyes, his face reddened.
The candle drifted to her left shoulder. “Asteroth.” She clasped her hands to her chest while still holding the candle and chanted, “Baphomet.”
Jack tried to rise, but he couldn’t. It was like he’d lost the connection between his brain and his legs. He made a low growling noise as he tried to stand, but couldn’t.
The woman paused for a couple of minutes, deep in meditation. He looked around the circle and could see that he was the only one with his eyes still open, including Sarah. The congregation seemed to be in a trance-like state. He was more determined to resist whatever was going on.
His attention was captured by a movement from the priestess. She stood and faced what he guessed was west and the Gulf. “Leviathan.” She turned to the south. “Samael.” Then to the east. “Lucifer.” Then finally to the north. “Lilith.” She addressed the congregation, her eyes still closed. “Let us pray.” The group as a whole was evidently familiar with the words and resonated as one. “Around me flame the pentagons, the star of force and fire. Within my breast the Eternal One, the infinite immortal star.” She then raised her hands. “Let us meditate. Let all of your thoughts be of yourself and your singular existence on this earth. Open your mind. Embrace the left-hand path.”
Jack sat mesmerized, but somewhat relieved. Singular existence, okay, this is more along the lines of what Sarah talked about. He was not so much fixated on the priestess as on the members of the church. He had been to a few of their tea meetings, all of which seemed fairly sedate and harmless. There had been no mention of Lucifer or . . . Amadeus or whoever. It had all been very intellectual and for the most part, enjoyable. He was uncomfortable watching the members of the congregation apparently lost in religious fervor. It reminded him of the Sunday morning prophets he saw on television when he was a kid. As much as Sarah espoused the merits of her religious points of view, it still stank of overlording. And someone was getting some cash out of all this. He smiled: All the same, just a different angle. He breathed a deep sigh. He could handle all the nonsense. All make-believe. A little hocus-pocus, get some cash off the rich folk like Carly and Buck, and everyone goes home happy. He would placate Sarah, but would be careful not to be implicated by the association. He could relax and enjoy his relationship and the great sex. It was a big relief.
He gazed at the congregation sitting around the fire, their hands and arms waving slowly out in front of them. “Isn’t she wonderful?” Sarah said, her face aglow with religious enthusiasm. “The priestess will want to speak with you. Don’t worry, there will be no pressure, she only wants to meet you. I’ve talked to her
about you, and she’ll understand your hesitation. It is not our way to try and convert people; our way is but another path to self-enlightenment. I showed you this only so that you could see who I am, what makes me tick.”
“Sarah, relax, I totally understand. I am my own person. I can handle the situation. I can see everything for what it’s worth. I no longer feel threatened, though I don’t agree with the premise.”
Sarah shrugged.
“Let’s go meet the woman, I look forward to it,” Jack said, trying to show some bravado, his shoulders pulled back, and his step purposeful.
Sarah frowned. “That’s a sudden big shift in attitude. You’re making me nervous, Jack.”
“Why the devil should I be making you nervous. See? I said devil. Don’t worry, lead on.” He chuckled.
Sarah guided him by the hand toward the priestess, who was bringing herself out of her trance-like state. A number of her disciples milled about, waiting to have a word with her. She saw Sarah guiding Jack in her direction and motioned to those who stood waiting.
“My esteemed members, I will be with you shortly. Please let me have a word with our young Sarah. She has brought a new friend.”
Sarah guided Jack forward. “Priestess, this is my friend Jackson Walker.”
The priestess smiled. “We have heard a great deal about you, Jackson.”
Jack nodded. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes off the woman. The sheer material of her gown did little to hide her body underneath. She held her hands out to him and he returned the gesture, reaching out and accepting both of her hands. She guided him to the ground where they both sat cross-legged, their hands still connected. Her hands were warm and soft. He didn’t want to let them go, and he knew that she would not let them go. He wanted to recoil, but he couldn’t find the connection between his brain and hands to carry out the impulse. Sarah sat down beside them. He raised his eyes to meet the priestess’, while fighting the urge to lower them. He had the will to move, yet he was frozen in place. It felt warm and safe, but all his alarms were sounding.
Devil in the Grass Page 6