Chapter 13

Grant Ten-Eyk wished his tux collar and tie weren't so tight, and mentally cursed his tailor for not letting out the waist another inch ... as he talked to Jack Dixon. They stood beside the steps to the side door of the big somber house. They were alone, though Grant noticed Dixon's eyes wandering. Ungrateful puppy!

Grant swallowed from his large glass of Scotch on the rocks. "WT&T will be glad to underwrite the campaign up to a million."

Jack became alert. "What do they want?" He automatically ran his fingers along the side of his thick blond hair. It was a tip-off gesture betraying fear and greed, but he didn't realize it.

"Most big corporations have to plan a generation or two ahead. My bank does, too. In effect, we do the world's planning for it. The world's governments don't bother."

"What does WT&T want?"

"Nothing at the moment. Aside from desiring that you do not vote to dismantle the free enterprise system that has made this country great."

Both men smiled.

"I'm not likely to do that. But I'm only thirty years old, Grant. I have some idealism burning in my guts, yet. A sliver of self-respect remains. I don't like the idea of being owned."

"We're all owned, Jack. The difference is a few of us are able to choose our masters and bargain for price and working conditions."

"Who's at the top? Who is it who looks down and holds all the mortgages?"

"Oh ... maybe David R. in this country. There are a few." Grant noticed Dixon's gaze shift away. Grant turned and saw that gut-twisting blonde beauty who had been turning heads for the past hour. She was still being towed around by Vonda Hartford.

Grant said, "That's an incredible girl."

Jack murmured, "I'm interested."

"She looks too young, even for a discreet fuck. You've got to be careful who you mess with, Mr. Gubernatorial Candidate."

"She ought to be gotten away from that old lez. Let's walk over and meet her. It's about time."

"I'll have my staff check her out. Stunning creature."

"She glows. You notice that? She glows."

Jack Dixon moved to intercept the path of Vonda and Donnathia. Grant Ten-Eyk accompanied him.

Jonathon Dean lounged near the women and snagged a fifth glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Vonda spotted the approaching candidate and bank president. She whispered, "I think the eventual next President wants to meet you."

Donnathia whispered back, "It's about time!"

Vonda said, "Mr. Dixon! You haven't met the real star of my party, have you? This is Miss Donna Kaiser. Donna, this is our handsome, dashing next Governor."

Dixon kissed Donnathia's hand. "You're incredibly beautiful." He lifted his eyes to hers and was paralyzed—taken—in that instant. He gasped, mind spinning. He suddenly knew he had to be alone with this utterly beautiful girl. She was the most desirable young woman in the world. She'd make a perfect wife.

Vonda was unaware of what had happened. "And this is Grant Ten-Eyk, only the President of the country's fifth largest bank and I imagine this state's richest man."

Donnathia smiled. "I must add you to my closest circle of admirers."

Grant took the full power of her electric blue gaze. A prejudice was hypnotically set into his mind: "Donna Kaiser is available, she is sweet, virginal, and she is to be trusted."

He said huskily, "If I get any closer, my child, I'll be unable to keep my hands from admiring you."

Vonda laughed, "You dirty old man."

Donnathia turned back to Jack Dixon. "I'm sure you'll make a wonderful governor." She held him with her eyes. "I've always wondered what a famous man is really like."

"With your beauty and charm, Donna, you'll be even more famous, soon."

"I'm the homebody type. I want to be the woman behind the great man."

Jack Dixon grinned and said, "Get thee behind me."

Donnathia's eyes widened briefly. "Do you believe in Satan?"

"I believe in God, as every right-thinking politician does. Therefore, I suppose I must accept Satan."

"Maybe—" Donnathia stopped herself. She then said, "I wish I were five years older. I'd marry you." She looked at him admiringly.

Dixon laughed. "That's very good for the ego. I'm tempted to let you marry me now."

Vonda said, sensing she was losing Donnathia, "Listen to the egotist! She's only a teenager, Jack. It would never do to be too close. Your opponent would—"

Donnathia hissed at her, "Shut up!"

Vonda blinked and paled. "I didn't mean—"

Grant said smoothly, "Properly chaperoned, with your parents present, my dear, I'm sure a friendship with Jack wouldn't be out of line. May we know how old you are?"

"I'm a very mature fifteen, kind sir. My father is over there ... " Donnathia looked toward the other end of the crowded patio and spotted Frank deep in private conversation with Professor Carew. The older man looked grim.

Her face darkened with anger. She reformed her face. She smiled dazzlingly at Dixon. "I'd love to see you again, sometime, whenever ... "

She glanced again toward Frank and Carew. She continued, "Father and I go everywhere together. He owns a brick factory and he makes all kinds of money. We live in Palos Verdes. I'll make him make a big contribution to your campaign."

Jack ran his fingers along his temples. "I'll be delighted to see you again, of course." He continued brushing his hair with his fingertips.

Vonda said, "It's a small world. You never know when you'll meet."

Jonathon Dean came forward. "Donna, your father wants to see you right away."

Donnathia glared at Dean for an instant, then nodded. "Oh, thank you, Jonathon." She shook hands with Dixon and Ten-Eyk. When they clasped her hand they were further dazzled. She said, "I must go to my father now for a moment. Excuse me."

Frank saw her approach. He had kept an eye on her as best he could, and had noted her talk with Dixon and the rumpled fat man who looked, somehow, like a power in the world. He said to Carew, "Here she comes. I'll probably have to lie like a thief."

Carew said, "Call me when you can. I'll exit with a polite social smile." He did so.

Frank then pretended not to see Donnathia approach. He drained his glass and stared at it for a second. He headed for the bar and came face to face with her.

She asked suspiciously, "Why were you talking so long with that man?"

"I was trying to find out if he is dangerous. If Webster could raise you from Hell, his teacher might know too much."

"I already know he knows too much! That spell he chanted was like a wall around him. I couldn't get into his mind!" Donnathia took Frank's arm and strolled with him. She smiled, but her whispering voice was hard with rage and command. I can't take any chances. He has to be killed!"

"Master, that would not be a good idea. Not so soon after Webster's death."

"I will not do it myself. His soul would be of high value, and I would acquire more powers, but the Plan would be endangered. Sooner or later Carew has to be killed!"

"He didn't suspect you. He only chanted that spell as a joke. He's only a scholar. He jokes about gullible people who believe in Demonology."

Donnathia walked in silence for a moment. "Did he mention having any ancient books?"

"No. Actually, we talked mostly about how odd a character Webster was. He did say ... I think ... that Webster had claimed to have a copy of a legendary grimoire. But it wasn't found in the house. He thinks it was what was burned in the fireplace."

Donnathia chuckled. "I'll wait, then. His death would alarm the police and again lead to us ... as having had contact with him: He is no real danger without a copy of that book."

Frank asked, "Did you make progress with Dixon?"

She gloated. "Oh, yes. He's mine when I want him. It's only a question of time and place. But I've discovered that fat man is the real power here. He is a buyer. Dixon is a seller, an order taker. I must have them both."

"What about Vonda Hartford? She's panting after you. In fact, here she comes."

"Vonda is one of my slaves now. Incidentally, Daddy, she's much better at licking my cunt than you are ... and she fucks me very well, too. Very well!"

The demon in Donna looked out amusedly at Frank.

Vonda asked, "You're not leaving, are you ... master?" The word came reluctantly, embarrassedly, to her lips.

"No. Vonda, I want you to get that rich fat man away from Dixon and those other people."

"Those others are his wife and sons."

"I don't care if they're Mary Magdalen and two Disciples. I want Grant Ten-Eyk alone up in that man's bedroom of yours."

"But, master—"

"Obey me—in all things!"

Vonda bowed her head and moved away.

Donnathia said to Frank, "At our next coven meeting I'll put her through Hell. Do you fancy fucking the famous Vonda Hartford?"

Frank answered, "That would be an experience."

She chuckled. "Leave here. I don't want you talking any more with that Carew. Go home."

"How will you get home?"

"Vonda will take care of that. Now, GO!"

Frank walked away. He was content to leave. He had some thinking to do.

Grant Ten-Eyk wheezed up the last of the back stairs behind Vonda. "I hate mysteries. I hate secret meetings at parties. What are you setting me up for, you man-hating witch?" He said it fondly. He and Vonda Hartford had been friends for years. His bank handled her fortune. And he respected her and trusted her.

"Grant, you'll thank me." She hesitated, then unlocked the bedroom door. She knew she was betraying the man ... but Donnathia was too strong ... too alluring, too much the perfect sex object. Oh, how glorious it had been to tongue that sweet pussy! And how magnificently, how greedily, had the master taken the dildo! How wild and uninhibited had been her orgasms!

Grant entered the room. As he entered, Vonda pressed the key into his right hand. She went back downstairs. Grant saw Donnathia standing by the bed. His first impulse was to turn and walk out. His instincts and good judgment all prodded him to get the hell out of there! But she was a sweet young girl, sexy, yes, but she couldn't help that. He had gotten the impression when talking to her earlier with Jack Dixon that she was bold, but virginal, that she held in her a smoldering sexuality that would erupt with the right man. In a way the girl was like a bomb. Frightening. Her blue eyes were amazingly expressive ... fascinating ... hypnotic. Grant found himself closing and locking the door—and not a word had been spoken.

When he turned to her she had advanced to the foot of the bed. God, what a body! He wanted to rape the girl. He said, "Do you want my help in some way, Miss Kaiser?"

"Yes, Grant. Come here."

Puzzled, lured, wary, he crossed the room. Her eyes were like beacons, guiding him. The closer he got to her the more powerful became her physical aura and strange psychic energy. She hadn't turned it on like this down in the patio! His mind screamed, GET OUT, GET FREE!

Donnathia held his gaze easily. She held his mind, his will. "I have something I've been planning to give to Jack Dixon, but I'll give it to you instead. In a few days I'll have it for Jack, too."

She reached up to unhook her gown. "Get naked, Grant. You're going to fuck me like a stallion!"

"No ... no ... " He strained to turn away, to break her grip. He couldn't look away! He knew his hands were fumbling with his belt. A cold terror washed through him.

"You have a tough mind, Grant. But no mortal can now repel me. I have powers." She released her gown. The silky, translucent blue cloth slid down off her full, pointed naked breasts. She released his eyes to allow him to see her, to watch the unveiling of her spectacular young body. "Now touch me. Put your hands on these breasts."

Beads of sweat popped out on his shiny forehead, on his upper lip. He watched, mesmerized, as his hands came up and closed over the large, soft-firm, warm cones of flesh. In the back of his mind he knew he was being set up; there had to be a camera grinding away in a peephole ... How could she make him behave this way? Something in the drinks? Vonda in on it? His hands stroked and squeezed and fondled. His hands enjoyed the touching. And he began to crumble inside, to give in under the steady pressure of her irresistible will.

Donnathia stood like a queen—a master!—as he caressed her magnificent body. She commanded, "Stop!" When his arms fell away, she stepped forward, snaked her arms around his neck, pressed against him and kissed him with a lasciviousness, an uninhibited, steamy sensuality of warm, yielding lips and mouth and tongue so erotically effective that he quivered like a boy. His penis was in full erection, throbbing. His arms went around her.

She slid her hot mouth to his ear and whispered, "You're going to fuck me like a stallion, Grant. You'll be a young man again for me."

"Yes ... I'll try." He worried about his virility. More than half the time with Janice, his wife of twenty-four years, he was impotent. But now, with this incredible young girl—

"You will not fail me!" She took his mouth again. Her hands dropped to his pants and found his hardness. "You will obey me in all things."

He capitulated. He had never in his life experienced such a light, tantalizing touch. His heart hammered. He had to have her! To hell with the consequences!

"Get naked, Grant." She stepped away and climbed onto the bed. She lay waiting, one leg flung wide, the other drawn up, one hand resting on the knee.

Grant stripped to his socks and crawled onto the bed to her. He cursed his big belly and spindly legs. But he was proud of his stiff organ. No woman had ever affected him this way. He wanted to suck on her nipples and go down on her before entering, but she said, "You can do that between times. I want you in me now, NOW!"

He felt her delicate touch, guiding ... he penetrated! He was flushed with pride and pleasure. He gasped as he sank into the hot, jellied, squeezing world of her deep vagina.

"Good ... now fuck ... fuck hard ... fast!" Donnathia undulated under his weight.

He responded, panting, plunging inexpertly, out of rhythm, but moaning in the sea of resulting sensation. He was lost—lost!—sucked into a sweet, slippery, velvety furnace of intense, blossoming pleasure. He could not hold back. The chasm opened before him. He fell into a howling, jerking, blinding orgasm. He spurted and grunted and whimpered, head thrown back, neck corded, and spurted—And did not see the cold blue eyes watching as the lovely body worked under him, and did not see the smile.

Suddenly, in the keen, exquisite, final seconds of his transport, a thread of ice seemed to dart into his penis and pierce his insides—up, in one frozen instant—up through his body to his brain ... where it coiled and seemed to melt. He had never felt such a thing! He collapsed dazed, and rolled off Donnathia. He wondered dully if he had ruptured something. Had that been a minor heart attack? It hadn't been pain exactly. He heard the low, throaty, triumphant laugh so evil ... and looked to her. She was up on an elbow, gloating.

She said, "You're a slave to Satan now. The incubus has been implanted."

It seemed normal and proper to agree with that. He nodded. A tiny self was screaming somewhere. It made him feel uncomfortable; he wished it would stop. He wanted to serve her and through her—The Master. He was happy. For so many years he had believed in nothing. He had been cynical and skeptical. Now he had certainty. He served the Old Ones.

Donnathia said, "How and when can I get Jack Dixon alone for him to fuck me?"

"I'm having him out for an afternoon on my yacht this next weekend. It's a stag cruise for drinking-and fishing."

"I'll be along as a surprise guest. Who will be the others?"

Grant recited the names of two other bankers, the publisher of one of the three biggest newspapers in the state, a U.S. Senator.

"I'll have them all! Perfect! The Plan will be furthered even more!" She smiled. She flipped his penis disdainfully. "Get dressed. We've been up here long enough. We can't have talk, can we? You leave first."

Grant obeyed.