With that, she rose from the poolside lounger and executed a clean, graceful dive into the water just as her daughter was walking toward them, rubbing her hair with a thick towel. Sam watched her stride toward him: like her mother, ripe perfection. And, like her mother, dressed in a bikini that scarcely covered all the essentials.
"My mother is quite a woman, isn't she?" Nydia asked, sitting down and catching her breath from her laps in the huge pool. Steam rose in light upward exhalations from the heated water.
"At least that, Nydia. I would think Falcon would be extremely jealous of her."
"Did she come on to you, Sam? Sure, she did," she said, not giving him time to answer the question. "Oh, they both do what they want to do. Have their little affairs. I've known about them both for years."
"Why do I get the feeling you and your mother don't get along?"
"Because it's true. We're civil to each other—most of the time—but we stopped being friends a long time ago."
"Care to talk about it?"
"Later. Here comes the never-aging sexpot."
Sam shook his head at the acid in Nydia's remark.
"Nydia's been going to a church," Black said to Falcon. The men sat in the study, the heavy doors closed.
"I know it, so does Roma. There is nothing we can do about it. For several reasons. But we know He has been meddling."
"But why? I thought the rules …"
Falcon cut him off with a wave of his hand; a curt slash of impatience. "The Masters make the rules, each knowing they can break them at will. If, really, any rules do exist, which I more and more doubt. But nevertheless, we are required to follow what our individual Master dictates. And don't ask questions. What goes on in the minds of the two Supreme Beings is beyond the grasp of even us. When are the others arriving?"
"Tomorrow. Noon. I arranged for a helicopter to bring them in."
"Balon's bastard know of their coming?"
"No. Neither does Nydia."
Falcon brooded for a time, his dark features unreadable. "You feel … how many to be ready converts?"
"Ten. Five young men, five young women. The others are for our mutual enjoyment. Two young men, four young women."
"Leave the men for Roma. We'll share the women. They are young?"
"And tender."
"Lovely?"
"Beautiful."
"Virgins?"
"I think … possibly three. Susan is curious of our Master. She will be an easy convert, and an easier fuck. But one of them I know is pure. She is the one I picked for you.
Both men laughed, the chuckling evil. "Problems should they vanish?"
"By that time it will be over and done with, bon?"
"Oui. Balon's bastard is to be Roma's … exclusively. You understand that?"
"Yes, Falcon. Unless she tells me differently."
"You may have to kill your sister, Black. Or, on a more pleasant note, plant your seed within her. Does either prospect disturb you?"
The young warlock shrugged his reply.
"Good. You are your mother's child. Well, now … a full nine days." He smiled, the smile as corrupt as his heart was dark. "I am looking forward to the time."
The hot wind picked up, rousing Jane Ann from a fitful sleep. Tony had not returned. She opened her eyes and gasped in fright when she saw the mist at the foot of the bed.
The mist began to change, to take some shape, and her fright turned into a mixture of relief and joy. Jane Ann smiled.
"I will do what I can to help," the voice said, beating a silent message inside her head. "But I don't know how much He will allow me to do. I am rather a maverick within the Kingdom."
"Oh, Sam!"
"Let me finish. You have lost half of all you once loved, Balon flung his message. "And I can tell you no more than that. Help Miles and Wade while you can. In the end, it will be up to you and the clay man. But more weight will be put on your shoulders, your faith."
She did not understand. "Tony? He is the half I have lost?"
"I can tell you no more at this time."
Jane Ann knew then that her suspicions had been correct. Tony had gone to the other side. "Our son?"
"He will be tempted, and he will fall from grace more than once during the next nine days. But I can do little to help. I will attempt to see him, perhaps attempt to write to him. I … think he will find an unexpected ally coming forward. But my place is with you, and at the end, you will have a choice to make."
And Jane Ann knew what that choice would be.
"Don't be too hasty in your decision." Balon hurled the warning. "You have many, many good years ahead of you. You don't have to do this."
"I must."
"Once you have decided, the only alternative is to accept the Dark One's offer."
"I will never do that. I love you, Sam. I want to be with you.
"I must go now," Balon projected. "Be careful."
The mist began to disperse, becoming shapeless, formless. Then one slim tentacle of mist broke from the vapor and moved down the side of the bed to touch Jane Ann on the cheek. Then the mist was gone. She put her hand to her cheek: the spot was damp. Soon her tears had kissed the touch of love that endured … of life after death.
Dinner had been quite an event, the setting something Sam had heretofore witnessed only in the movies. The meal had been served in courses, and the coffee the best he had ever tasted.
"Mother owns land in Columbia," Black explained. "We have the beans flown in and grind them ourselves."
Falcon was very polite throughout the meal, but not given to much conversation. He and Black excused themselves after dinner and went into the study, closing the door. Nydia said she was going to bed and would see Sam in the morning.
The look Nydia fired at Sam was full of warning. And Sam did not really understand it … at least he tried to convince himself of that.
Roma rose from her chair and held out her hand. "Come, Sam, walk with me. The night air will do us good."
He held her wrap and was conscious of the heady perfume wafting into his nostrils. He was grateful when they stepped out into the cold night air of the terrace.
"Tell me about yourself, Sam," she said, standing very close to him.
"Not that much to tell. I'm twenty-one. Went right into the army out of high school. Did my time, and glad I did. Here I am."
"You and Black have a lot in common. Black and Nydia were born in March 1959."
"So was I. Where were they born, Roma?"
"Rumania."
"I thought that country was under communist control."
"I travel wherever and whenever I choose, Sam. My investments are worldwide. Tell me about your father."
"I never knew him. He died before I was born. My mother married a doctor before I was born. He delivered me. Doctor Tony King."
"But you always knew this King person was not your father?"
"Oh, yes. They made that clear when I was old enough to understand. My dad was a minister. Big man."
In more ways than one, she thought. "But you never had the calling?"
"Me?" Sam laughed. "Oh, no. But I have worn dad's cross around my neck—all my life." He touched the center of his chest, feeling the outline of the cross.
Roma fought to keep herself from recoiling away from the young man. She remembered that cross very welclass="underline" it had burned her several times while she and Sam Balon were grappling for control, prior to mating as they fought in circles through timeless, trackless space, neutral ground, ruled by no Master.
Roma shivered.
"Cold?" Sam touched her arm instinctively, protectively. At the touch, his chest began that strange burning, now much more intense.
"No," she said shortly. The mention of that damned cross driving all thoughts of sex from her. She moved away from his touch; the burning in the center of his chest ceased. "I must go," she moved toward the house. "I'll see you in the morning, Sam. Sleep well."
She was gone, the darkness of her gown fading into the night.