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at she loved him； that it was just the shock of the culmination of all those months of waiting。 But she knew that she lied。
She heard his heavy breathing； a rasping of air in stale lungs that had to learn how to inhale and expel again。 Limbs that were stiff and wooden after weeks of idleness in death。 Love…making had bee an unfamiliar exercise for Louis Nevillon and she must bear with him。
Madeleine tried to relax but it was impossible； terror rendered her tense and unyielding so that he had to force her legs wide。 His closeness was like an iceberg。 Yet if he lived then surely his heart must pump warm blood。 Or in this； his latest ing again； had he chosen to bee one of the living dead？
He took her forcefully； an animal…like mating； dragging her up and forcing her to kneel facing away from him； having to hold her upright by her hair or else she would have fallen to the floor。 Her strength had deserted her in this terrible hour and she was no more than a rag…doll to be manipulated by that body out of the coffin； to do his bidding in everything he chose。
A hardness deep in her； a freezing cold that numbed her very womb and destroyed all sensitivity； she was even rendered insensible to pain； for surely he was hurting her。 Her hair felt as though it was being torn from her head by the roots； sharp fingernails gouged unmercifully at her breasts。 She was aware of the slamming of his powerful thighs against her； pile…driving blows that vibrated every bone in her frame。
How much longer could it go on？ Madeleine didn't know and she didn't care。 Her brain was numbed； a kind of sedation that left her with a dim awareness of the awftilness of it all； but checked her rising terror。 Her beloved would not hurt her。 Only because she had been rendered insensitive to pain！ He was a monster； fully aroused； a lusting thing that had survived the guillotine and escaped the grave； not Louis who had e back to her before when he had defied death。
Would he never be spent？ Even as the thought crossed her mind she experienced a shooting coldness inside her。 Her head was jerked right back； threatening to dislocate her neck； and those icy fingers were squeezing mercilessly at her breasts。 She heard him now； a beast of the wild roaring at the peak of its lust； an unholy orgasm that blinded it to all else。 This； surely； was the rutting…stand of the undead。
She was thrown forward； pulled back again； cold kisses like iced suction pads on her neck and back； that frozen penetration seeming to swell inside her。 She tried to cry out but only succeeded in gasping hoarsely； a noise that might have been mistaken for an orgasmic grunt。 There was to be no let…up in this frenzied copulation that had begun over three centuries before and was destined to continue for eternity。 If he killed her then she would live again and he would be waiting for her。 If she fled then there was no hiding place in this world； or the one beyond the shadows。
She had a sensation of flying through the air and in that instant all feeling was restored to her body。 Covering her head with her arms； knowing that she must fall sometime。 Then she hit the floor with a bone…jarring force； lay there bruised and winded as the terror finally seeped back。 Her brain could not cope； sought a logical explanation。 It wasn't him； you were masturbating； got carried away。 Liar！
Madeleine could not see him but she knew he was there； a silent thing that stood in the darkness； one who needed no light to see； an omni…powerful creature who had satisfied himself on her and had spurned her undying love for him。
This was not Louis； not he whom she had served so faithfully for so long。 Something had gone wrong。。。
She could hear him moving about； purposeful footsteps as he busied himself with some task。 She heard the clank of the firebox； heavy logs being deposited inside； a crackling of flames。 Oh God； he was stoking the oven； preparing to satisfy his hunger after a long abstinence。
Madeleine wanted to cry out； 'No； Louis。 There is no need。 I have cooked meat in readiness for your ing。 It is there on the table。' But her voice had gone； just lips moving but no sound ing forth。 Sheer terror had claimed her； turned her into a mute slave。 She was praying； not to the God of the convent at Aix…en…Provence but to one much older； one she had once witnessed in the darkness of a black mass when Louis Nevillon had presided； for only he could have called up such a powerful entity； a beast…like thing that snorted in the shadows； only its glowing red eyes visible。 An overpowering stench of putrefaction； a thundering of powerful hooves。 You dared not look any closer。
Now she prayed that it might e again and save her from one who had once loved her。 Or that it might send Sabat and that he would be in time。
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SABAT PULLED the Daimler off the road and killed the engine。 A silent monster； it sat sedately amidst the trees； out of its own environment of hard roads and city lights。 It would have been sacrilege to take it up that rutted track。
Sabat stretched in the seat； relaxed。 He should have been hurrying with a sense of urgency up that muddy slope but instead he felt lethargic。 Not tired； more of a basking in his own satisfaction。 Schmid and his coven were finished； there would be nothing to fear from them。
A strange feeling which he found difficulty in ing to terms with。 A muzziness that fogged his thinking； voices screaming at him but he neither understood nor recognised them。 It might have been Quentin； his own soul in conflict； but he ignored it。
He sat there staring through the windscreen at the dark mass of indistinguishable trees； shapes that might have been demons out there on a night when the ultimate in evil was about to be reborn。 Possibly the event had already happened。 In which case Sabat was too late。 His reasoning faltered again； a man with amnesia whose memory came back to taunt him in brief flashes and； like a will…o'…the…wisp； vanished before he could claim them for his own。
It was like a kind of dream going on all around you and yet you played a vital role in it； being swept along by events which in themselves controlled you。 A sense of helplessness； too； but you didn't try to fight it。
He flicked on the interior light of the car； experiencing a burning desire to see his own face in the mirror。 He had almost forgotten what he looked like； needed to re…acquaint himself with himself。 He stared； saw his own reflection in the small oblong and a faint cry of surprise and fear escaped his lips。 For the face that stared back at him was not wholly his own！Nor Quentin's； as his brother had once been！
There was certainly a resemblance； but the features had undergone a drastic change！ Harsh； vicious； the eyes seemed to have moved in closer； narrowed to an expression of sheer maliciousness。 The nose decidedly more hooked； like the beak of a fierce bird of prey。 The mouth a grim bloodless slit。 The long hair appeared to have taken on a different texture； coarser； falling about the collar； now s