A Witch's Tale (25 page)

No!
her
mind screamed, as he pulled her toward the bed.
He wouldn’t rape her.
No matter what it took she wouldn’t let him.
He’d have to kill her first, she vowed.

But rape wasn’t on his mind, she realized
,
as he ignored the bed and pulled her to the closet.
He was going to tie her up and leave her there, she thought.
Good.
She could escape from there, she was sure of it.
Her body relaxed for a moment as relief swept over her.

But then it tightened again as he twisted around behind her.
In that moment she realized she was not to be so lucky.
Pushing clothing aside, he forced the combined weight of their bodies against the back of the closet.
With a creaking sound, the wall swung open an
d Cassie felt herself being dragged
into a dark, cold chamber.

Evil!
She had never experienced such a strong sense of evil.

A fresh wave of panic overwhelmed her, filling her body with almost superhuman strength.
She had to get away!

She fought s
avagely with
the arms that held her, but to no avail.
The arm around her chest tightened even more,
preventing oxygen from entering
her lungs.
The hand on her face pressed harder, holding her nose shut, cutting off every trace of air.

The last thought she had before losing consciousness was that she would die this night without ever knowing who had killed her.
A deep sadness filled her at the thought that she would never again see Mac, that she would never have the opportunity to tell him how very much she loved him.

“Mac!”
Cassie’s voice sounded clear in the stillness of the church.

Startled, Mac stepped out from his hiding place.
He glanced at Father Sullivan and was surprised to note that the priest had apparently not heard Cassie’s voice call out.
Without uttering a word, Mac stepped to the side aisle and,
staying within the shadows, made his way to the back of the church.

“Mac, help me!”

“I’m coming, sweetheart, I’m coming.”
His heart raced with fear as he sprinted the last few feet to the back pews where Cassie and Alan had been positioned.
The
back of the church
was
empty.
He should have known.

Her first awareness as she regained consciousness was
of
the scent of burning candles.
The ludicrous thought that she had somehow fallen asleep during a Wiccan ceremony flickered through her mind in the instant before she returned to full reality.
It was the tight binding that held her firmly by her arms and legs to a hard, narrow bench that reminded her of where she was and the precarious situation she was in.

Eyes still tightly
shut,
she strained against the bindings, testing their strength.
A fresh surge of panic swept through her as she realized that she was completely powerless against this monster
who
held her captive.

Forcing the panic aside, she slowly opened her eyes.
The dancing light of dozens of candles flickered across the ceiling.
Turning her head first to one side and then the other, she
saw that she lay upon a table draped in black velvet and that she was surrounded by burning candles of all shapes and sizes.

The walls of t
he room had been painted a dark
blood red and had been covered by the most hideous drawings she had ever seen.
Huge mouths
gaped
open, displaying fangs dripping with blood.
Enormous eyes stared at her, glowing with an evil so great as to be terrifying.
Clawed hands reached out, grasping for victims.

And she was to be the victim, she realized with a sudden clarity.

“Ah, you’re awake at last.
That’s very good.
I would have hated to be forced to proceed without your undivided attention.
Your presence
makes it so much more enjoyable.”

“Alan?”
Though she could see him clearly enough, Cassie found it difficult to believe her own eyes.
Yes, it was Alan
Boatright
, but a far different Alan than she had known these past five years.
The Alan she had known had been so kind and caring, the ve
ry personification of the word ‘gentleman’.
But this man …
this thing!
She could find absolutely no trace of the man she had known and respected in the eyes of the creature who stood before her.

“Welcome to my home, Cassie.
I’m so happy to have you here.
You can’t imagine how badly I’ve
been wanting
to see you just as you are.”

His voice, his eyes, everything about him reeked of evil.
A wave
a revulsion
swept through her at the thought that he might touch her at any moment.

“Let me go, Alan.
We’re friends.
You know you don’t want to hurt me.”

“But I must, you know.
And, you are very much mistaken -
I do want to hurt you.
Very much,” he continued in a velvety smooth voice.
“I need your pain, Cassie.
I need to feel your suffering.
I need to feel your heart pulsing in my hand in that moment after I have severed it from your body and it still beats.
And I need to taste your blood.”

“No!”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Oh, I can see you don’t understand, and I feel that it is very important that you do.
You see, I want this to be perfect.
For both of us.
Yes, for it to truly matter, you must be a part of the sacrifice.
A willing partner.”

“You’re insane, Alan.
No one in their right mind would ever expect me to go to my death willingly.
If that’s what
you’re waiting for, you mi
ght as well let me go right now
because it’s not going to happen.”

“Oh, Cassie, you’re such an innocent child,” he replied,
“Of course I can’t let you go.
You’re
mine
now, don’t you see?
Where once you belonged to your mother, now you are mine.
And by taking you into me, by devouring your still pulsing heart, I take a part of her into myself as well.
As you and I become one, I draw her to me.
She should have come to me herself and all this could have been avoided.
She would have been mine and I would have been hers.
Together we would have ruled.
I w
as willing to share it with her, all of it, b
ut she rejected me.”

“You can’t blame what you’ve done on my mother, Alan.”

“Blame?
Who’s blaming?
I praise her!
I glorify her!
Because of her I have grown,
I have become powerful, more powerful than Satan himself.
I rule because of her.
My love was a weakness
but my hat
red
has given me
a strength
beyond any mere mortal’s wildest dreams.
And while my love could not hold her, my hatred will make her mine.”

“She’ll never belong to you, Alan.
Though she cared for you as a friend, she’d never come to you the way you are now.”

He was going to kill her, Cassie knew
that with a deadening certainty, b
ut she’d be damned if she’d go without having her say.
Nothing she could do at this point would save her life.
She might as well have the satisfaction of telling him exactly what she thought of him.

“This thing you’ve turned into is hideous a
nd you think you’ll win her like this?”

“Win her?”
His laughter was hollow.
“Of course I won’t ‘win’ her.
I have no desire for that any longer.
No, I won’t win her, b
ut I will posses
s
her.
When I take you into my body
,
I take part of her.
And as you become me, she will not be able to resist the urge to come to me, to offer
herself
up to me.
And I will take her.”

Light flickered across his features, revealing his madness as he reached for a dagger.
Drawing himself to a full standing position, he raised his arms high above his head, the dagger clutched in both hands.

Cassie’s eyes were drawn hypnotically to the weapon.
For an instant only the dagger existed, floating high above Alan’s head, candlelight glittering from its polished metal.
And then th
e sickening realization hit her -
it was Myra’s
athame
.
She was to be killed with her mother’s own sacred tool.

She wanted to scream, to call to someone, anyone, but she could force no sound through he
r panic-
tightened throat.
Though she willed herself to yell loud and long, her terror kept her mute.

And then she heard it, the muffled sound of the front door being forced open and the voices of Mac and Father Michael.
Just knowing they were near calmed her enough to force her voice through her
constricted
throat.
Her first scream was weak, but the second resounded from the bare walls, filling the room with noise.

“Scream, you bitch!” Alan roared as he stretched himself to his fullest.
Arching his back to gain more momentum, he lowered his arms in a rush, forcing the blade of the dagger toward Cassie’s heart.

At the moment of the
dagger’s
decent, there was a tremendous crashing sound behind Alan as Mac burst into the room.
Instantly, with no time to take aim or even consider
an alternative action, Mac
raised his gun and fired, striking Alan in the middle of the back.
The force of the shot threw her captor off his feet, pushing him forward so that his full body landed on top of Cassie.

For one horrifying moment Mac feared that the dagger had
reached
its target.
But then, thank God, Cassie turned her head to look at him.
Candlelight reflected from golden eyes that s
poke of love, relief, gratitude, n
ot of pain.
His heart soared as he rushed to her side.

Alan’s heavy body pressed down on her, forcing the air from her lungs.
Still held firmly by the bindings at her wrists and ankles, Cassie could do nothing but wait patiently while Mac and Father Mike pulled the man’s body from her and cut the leather thongs that held her tight.
But she didn’t complain.
They had saved her life a
nd their faith in Myra’s innocence had helped to save them all.

And then she was free at last.
She drew in a deep draught of air as the dead weight of her attacker’s body was pulled from her.
As the priest bent over the lifeless body of Alan
Boatright
, uttering prayers for the dead, Mac li
fted Cassie from the unholy alta
r.
Cradling her in his arms, he carried her from the room and out of the house.

“I was so afraid,” she said between taking huge gulps of the clean, cool air.
“I knew that no one had any idea where I was.
Alan had made sure of that.”

“But there was one thing that even
Alan couldn’t control, my love, a
nd that was your mind.”

Cassie raised her eyes to his, a questioning expression in them.

“D
on’t you remember calling to me, telling me what was happening, w
hat you were seeing?”

“Do you mean
...?”

“Yes.
This time it was me reading your thoughts, instead of the other way around.
The bond between us has become so strong that when you were in danger you were able to reach out to me.
I can’t begin to explain it.
I can only thank God that I got here in time.”

Still held firmly in his arms, she felt a tremble ripple through him, revealing the depths of his emotions at the thought of losing her.
She leaned into his embrace, holding him close, comforting him as he comforted her.

It was over at last.

Mac found her exactly where he had expected she would be, on the bench far out on the pier where they had first sat and talked to one another.
Had it been only days ago?
Impossible!
Surely that had been a lifetime ago.