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e light cast by the twin candles he saw the blood 。 。 。 his features unrecognisable beneath the sticky scarlet fluid； his dark clothing saturated so that the material clung tightly to the body。 Royston Spode had thwarted him； sacrificed him before night fell。
And now that he was dead； Sabat's astral body was trapped in the wilderness of no return。
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ROYSTON SPODE gave a final orgasmic shudder and sank his full weight down on the West Indian girl who lay spread…eagled beneath him。 He went limp； gave way to the wave of exhaustion which swept over him。 It had been good。 Very； very good。 He'd needed it in order to prepare himself mentally for this ing night and the terrible risks which he must take to achieve the ultimate in power。
He lay thus for about twenty minutes before finally withdrawing and extricating himself from his partner's embrace。 Alison； the bocor's servant girl whom he had snatched away from her master in Port au Prince； was perfect for his every purpose。 Sexually she was either submissive or aggressive according to his whim at the time； domestically she obeyed his every order without question。 A man could not ask for more than that。
He knelt there staring down at her。 Her features gave nothing away； her eyes closed because after copulation it was forbidden for her to look upon the satisfied body of her master unless he manded her to do so。 Her ultimate desire was to please him because he was her houngan； the one who had the right to dominate her mind and body。 If necessary she would die for him。 Or so it should have been。 He wondered 。。。 if he asked for her love she would give it outwardly but even he was not powerful enough to explore her innermost thoughts。 Just one little thing worried him； her expression earlier that morning when she had e to tell him that Sabat was in the drawing room。 In her wide dark eyes he had read 。 。 。 something。 Something that he had not seen there before and which disturbed him。 She had taken the drugged coffee in as manded； yet if one studied her closely； as Spode was wont to do； then there was a reluctance in her walk； her bearing； as though she would have preferred not to have administered the dope to their visitor。 It could have been his imagination； Royston tried to console himself as he donned the cassock of this false religion。 But； and it had always been a nagging worry since he had brought Alison to England； her bocor in Haiti had been a disciple of Damballah； chief of the Rada gods； not a good god but certainly not an evil one。 Did not other religions throughout the world indoctrinate their subjects from infancy？ Was he； Royston Spode； powerful enough to change her allegiance from Rada to Retro？
'Get dressed。' His abrupt mand had her scrambling up； grabbing for the long multi…coloured dress。 It was ripped in places； when he lusted for Alison's brown body he liked to take her that way。 And she had never once objected。 'It is later than I thought； we have mated too long and Evensong is but an hour away。 Already some of our followers will be there in the church in their eagerness for this long dark night to begin。'
She nodded。 He watched her carefully as she dressed； saw how her smooth flesh trembled and her fingers shook as she tied the sash around her waist。 Again he might be seeing problems that did not exist； for any woman who had orgasmed four times was entitled to tremble a little afterwards。
As he left the room he was reminded of Miranda and her treachery。 But on the most important eve of his creation he had other things to occupy his mind； and by the time he embarked upon the short walk from the vicarage to the church he had dispelled his doubts。 Alison was his mistress； his slave； and it would never be any different。 He could trust her implicitly。
Andy Drew's fears had been mounting throughout the day； and when he learned at lunchtime that his friend Jon Borth had been found dead on the road some miles beyond the village； he'd reported sick to the foreman at the small clothing factory where he worked and gone home。 Jon's horrific accident was surely an omen。 Some of those fucking ghouls on the shopfloor were discussing the details。 Andy had rushed into the toilet； spewed until his guts couldn't throw up anymore。 The foreman had taken one look at him and told him to piss off home before he spread whatever bug he'd got among the workforce。
At twenty…two； Andy's problems seemed to be closing in on him； he found members of his own sex far more attractive than those of the opposite one and it must have shown because some of those crude bastards he worked with had taken to referring to him as 'Pouf。 And that wasn't because he was physically frail and got out of breath easily。
He'd started going to church； much to his conventional parent's joy and amazement； but that had only led to worse things。 That vicar wasn't a vicar at all； Andy had found that out after Spode had asked him to remain behind one Sunday after Matins and all sorts of shameful and pleasurable things had happened in the vestry。 It had all been a fix by Spode to trap him； to get a hold on him so he couldn't desert the coven。 And once he'd got his talons into him Spode didn't make life enjoyable anymore； and neither did he do those things he'd done in the beginning。
Last night had been a living nightmare。 Playing about with some old skeleton was revolting enough； but Jesus； Andy had never thought they'd do things such as they did to that girl！ But there was no turning back and now he was ordered to attend a special 'evensong munion' prior to 。 。 。 Royston Spode promised them that tonight would be the climax to their devotion and that in return； each and every one of them would receive power beyond their wildest dreams。 Crap！ It was scary； they were all accessories to murder； but there wasn't such a thing as magic； just an excuse to perform revolting rites。 Yet inexplicable happenings had occurred。 It was all clever trickery of some kind but nevertheless Andy was trapped。 He'd have to go to the church at 7。30 and to the crypt afterwards。
'You look ill。' There was concern on his mother's face as she met him in the hall of their two…up； two…down cottage。 'You'd better go to bed and stop there for the rest of the day。'
'I'm not ill；' the last thing Andy wanted was to find himself a prisoner in his bedroom； he dared not disobey Spode's orders。 'I've been made redundant and it came as a bit of a shock。' Now that was a stupid lie； blurted out on the spur of the moment。 How was he going to explain why he had to go to work in the morning？ Let's get tonight over first。
'Well； you'd better go and lie down for a while just the same；' she said。 'Your father and I are going on the WI coach trip to Stratford this evening so you'll have to look after yourself while we're away。'
That was a relief； a clear coast and nobody to ask questions。 He went up to his room； stretched out on his bed。 He was trembling； scared to hell。 Christ； if only he could think of something。 In about thirty minutes he did just that； an idea that made his mouth dry up