Divine Evil

entitled to see it all.
    He belonged.
    His head throbbed, and his mouth felt sandy and dry. Aftereffects of the drug, he supposed. He would take care not to drink again, but only to pretend. He didn't need his senses clouded, but cleared. Drugs were for fools and cowards.
    Though he feared once or twice that he would lose his way, he kept walking. He was certain he had recognized some of the men there tonight, and he intended to make a list in secret. They had seen his face. He was entitled to know theirs. He would not be treated like a child again, not here. He would belong in full, and one day, one day, he would stand in the center of the circle with the goat's head. He would be the one to call up the power.
    He could smell the smoke, stenched with the carcass of the goat. Quickly, he crossed the stream where years before Junior Dopper had meet his own devil. The sound of chanting came hollowly through the trees. Ernie slowed his steps, crouched and moved forward. There—in the same place a little girl had once hidden, though he did not know it—he watched the rite continue.
    They had not donned their robes again, but stood naked. The altar lay limp, sated and sleepy with the glitter of moonlight on her skin.
    “Our lust is quenched. Our bodies are pure. Our minds are clear. Our secret thoughts have been channeled into the movements of our flesh. We are one with our Master.”
    “Hail, Satan.”
    The priest stood, legs spread, arms outstretched in the center of the circle. His head thrown back, he shouted out an imprecation. Latin? Ernie wondered, licking his lips. Whatever language, it sounded more passionate, more powerful than English.
    “Beelzebub, come forth and fill me with Your wrath.Woe to the Earth, for her iniquity was great.” He whirled toward the altar. Lazily, Sarah pushed herself up on her elbows.
    She knew him, knew his appetites and his secrets.
    “You didn't take your turn,” she said and shook back her tumbled hair. “Better get in while you can. Your two hours are almost up.”
    He brought a hand hard across her face. Her head snapped onto the slab. “You will not speak.”
    She lifted her fingers and rubbed them over her lips where blood spurted. Hate filled her eyes, but she knew if she disobeyed, he would hit her again. Instead, she lay still and waited. She would have her day, she thought. By God, she would. And he would pay a hell of a lot more than two hundred for the slap.
    “Behold the whore,” he said. “Like Eve she will seduce, then betray. Between her spread thighs lies our pleasure. But before lust, there is the Law. I am the Sayer of the Law. None escape.”
    “None escape.”
    “Cruel are the punishments of the Law. None escape.”
    “None escape.”
    “The weak are cursed. She who speaks what is secret is damned. That is the Law.”
    “Hail, Satan.”
    Even as they crowded around her, Sarah scrambled up. Her arms and legs were grabbed and borne down to the wood.
    “I didn't say anything. I didn't. I never—”
    She was silenced by another blow.
    “The gods of the pit demand vengeance. They hunger. They thirst. Their mighty voices smash the stillness of the air.” Turning, he threw something into the pit that caused the flames to leap and roar.
    And the chanting began, a murmuring chorus behind his shouted words.
    “I am the instrument of annihilation. I am the messenger of doom. The agony of the betrayer will sustain me. Her blood will slake my thirst.”
    “Please.” Writhing, terrified, Sarah looked at the men who surrounded her. It couldn't happen. She knew them, all of them, had served them beer and sex. “I'll do anything you want. Anything. For God's sake—”
    “There is no god but Satan.”
    When her hands and feet were bound, the coven fell back. From his place in the bush, Ernie began to sweat.
    “Behold the vengeance of the Master.” The priest picked up the sacrificial knife, still dampened with blood. He stepped forward.
    Sarah began to scream.
    She screamed for a long time. Ernie pushed his hands against his ears to block it out, but the sound reeked, like a scent in the air. Even when he closed his eyes, he could see what was being done to her.
    Not a sacrifice. Not an offering. But a mutilation.
    With his hands over his mouth, he ran blindly through the woods. But her screams chased after him.
    But there was another who did not run. There was one who crouched, animallike on haunches, eyes bright and a little mad. This one watched,