Melinda raced from her last class of the day and past her locker, not risking a delay which could set off the trigger and compel her to think of what waited at home. She wished Heather had not insisted on taking the school bus; she would have preferred Heather go off with Cassie and the others. She knew herself too well; if Heather were around and did nothing to stop Aunt Jo, she would find some way to be angry at Heather.

She plunged into the crush of students and elbowed them out of her way. She met a hard shove from one annoyed girl with a stomp on her assailant's foot without breaking stride. Only when a break appeared and Jason loomed into view did she stop.

Melinda stood a dozen lockers away and stared. Jason exchanged books from his locker, moving like a film in slow-motion. Melinda wished she knew what he was thinking. Had he spared a thought for her at all? Was he thinking of her now? Or was he worried only how the job would affect his chances of acing his exams?

Or was the accusation Heather had leveled after lunch true, that she was acting like a self-centered brat again?

"It's not all about you," Heather had said. "Just because you're going through hell doesn't mean you have an exclusive right to sympathy. Try thinking about someone else for a change. Stop hiding behind your brattiness. Maybe a few months ago it was tolerable or even 'cute,' but people are getting fucking sick of it. Grow the hell up, Melinda."

Melinda took a deep breath and wiped an eye. It had hit harder than either had realized. Melinda had spent the next class struggling not to burst into tears. Halloween night haunted her again, when she had to admit her own inability to say a few simple words to Jason.

Now she faced the possibility that this was the last opportunity, and still they would not come to her.

She flinched when she suddenly noticed him staring at her, one hand on his locker door. Jason sighed, closed the door, and looked away. Melinda panicked and ran to him. "Jason, wait! Wait!"

"I'm right here, Melinda," Jason said in a tired voice, not having moved from his locker. "No need to shout."

"Sorry, I just thought ... um, never mind."

"What is it?"

Melinda heard little emotion in his voice, and she despaired that he had already stopped caring for her. Hatred she might handle, but indifference would be far worse.

She clenched her teeth and tried to push the thought away. Not all about me, remember? "I just wanted to see if you're all right."

"No, not really, but you can't do anything about that," Jason said.

Melinda frowned, reconsidered, and let out an exasperated sigh. "All right, that was lame. Jason, please, this is hard for me, I--"

"I know, it's hard for everyone. I've been made painfully aware of that."

"Richie didn't have any right to do what he did!" Melinda declared. "Either in the parking lot or the hallway! He's lucky I wasn't there or--"

"Melinda, just drop it, okay?" Jason said. "We made our peace and it's over with. Just let it go."

A protest rose to Melinda's lips, and she clamped her jaw shut until the urge passed. She grasped for the words but nothing came; not the ones she thought she should say, and not the ones she wanted to say.

Jason tilted his head and gazed into her eyes. The impatience drained from his face, and his voice softened. "Melinda, are you okay?"

Melinda's vision became a watery blur. She dropped her backpack and threw her arms around him, closing her eyes in vain against the tears which trickled down her cheeks. She sobbed into his ear when he embraced her in kind without hesitation. She wanted to speak, but everything she could say sounded self-centered, as if nothing in her head was free from its taint.

She mentally shouted for him to say the words she herself struggled to express in some vain hope it would prompt the same reply from her.

"Melinda, I ... I don't know what to say," Jason said in a defeated voice. "I have to do this."

"I-I know," Melinda croaked, her throat tight. "I'm not going to try to stop you."

"It might not be that bad. They can't control me overnight or they wouldn't have arranged such an elaborate scheme."

Melinda let out a ragged breath and eased herself back from the embrace. "S-same Jason I always knew," Melinda said in a shaky voice as she wiped her eyes. "Apply logic to everything."

"I know, you've told me before that's not always--"

"Forget what I told you! I-I mean ... I'm not one to talk. You're the first boy I ever ... w-well ... never mind, I just didn't want you to go off thinking you ... that I h-hated you."

She had almost said "you hated me." She hoped he answered both questions when he responded, "I didn't think that at all. Not for a moment."

"I'm sorry I can't help you," said Melinda. "I don't know how much I can work with the other Harbingers."

"I know, Heather told me some of what was going on," Jason said in a low voice. "I feel bad about not paying more attention to you."

Melinda shook her head, her hair flying. "No, you had other things you had to do. You had to read that journal ... I mean, even if it didn't work out, you still had to do it."

Jason gave her a wan smile. "Melinda, thank you for talking to me before I left. I really appreciate it."

Melinda swallowed and nodded, not trusting her voice.

Jason picked up his backpack and shouldered it. "Um ... see you tomorrow."

Melinda tried to convince herself that she would indeed see him the next day. On one level, all her fuss seemed ridiculous. He was not going away to be executed. He would be alive and well the next morning.

But would it be only a shell?

Her eyes threatened to tear up again. She gave him another embrace and forced her throat to work. "Just ... just try to be you, still, tomorrow."

Jason hugged her tighter and whispered in her ear, "I'll try. I'll really try."

They broke off the embrace, and now Jason's eyes glistened. Without any sort of cue, just a knowledge that the moment was here, both turned away at the same time. Melinda sniffled one last time as she picked up her backpack and turned towards the east entrance of the school. Technically, he should be going in the same direction, but she understood why he had not. This was easier.

Melinda stopped, resisted the urge to run after him, and fled towards the entrance.

Debby sat very still after Ned and Cassie had finished their tale of Jason's woes. She let out a slow, shaky breath and closed her eyes, repeating a short prayer to the Goddess in her head until she felt she had gained the requisite emotional strength.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Radson?" Cassie said.

"What?" Debby said in a distracted voice. She blinked a few times before she could properly focus on Cassie and Ned. "Yes, I'm fine. Well, no, I'm not, not after hearing this, but I can't ... we can't dwell on that now."

"Like hell we can't," Ned muttered.

"Ned, don't," Cassie warned.

Debby sighed. "No, it's okay, Cassie. Ned, please, say what's on your mind."

"Ya sure of that, Mrs. R.?" Ned asked in a challenging voice.

"I would rather we don't pussyfoot around these things. We've ignored enough elephants in the room as it is."

Cassie uttered a despairing sigh and gave Debby an apologetic look. Debby grasped Cassie's hand and squeezed it.

"I wanna know what the hell's the deal with ya not tellin' Jason he was barkin' up the wrong tree," Ned demanded. "Ya said ya read the journal. Why'd ya fuckin' let him get his hopes up?"

Debby let go of Cassie's hand and stood. "Because I had hoped he would find something else. I'm a very straightforward and simple person. I have trouble finding hidden meanings or codes. I was sure there had to be something for Jason to find."

"That's not inspirin' a whole--"

"Mrs. Radson, I still think there has to be something!" Cassie declared. "I read both the journal entry where she claims it was all a mistake and the one right before it. It makes no sense, not after everything we've been told about Elizabeth."

"And I still say we gotta consider that mebbe our good witch of Haven was jus' a might tetched in the head by then," Ned said.

"Absolutely not," Debby said with such force that Ned's eyebrows rose. "In 1999, I was doing volunteer work visiting people in nursing homes who were either abandoned by their families or had no family. I first met Elizabeth there. The only reason she appeared senile was because she became so withdrawn from lack of anyone who cared about her. Once I got her out of her shell, I discovered she had a very sharp mind. She was delighted to find a fellow Witch."

Ned hesitated and glanced at Cassie. "Um, okay, mebbe she didn't have bats in her belfry after all. But she still coulda jus' made an honest mistake, right?"

"Do either of you have the journal with you now?" Debby asked.

"I do," Cassie said. She stood long enough to fetch the manila folder from her book bag and give it to Debby. "He marked the important entries with post-it notes. If you want the two entries were were talking about, they're here and here."

Debby opened the folder and paused. She stared at the first page, remembering the moment a year ago when a frail Elizabeth handed her the journal and, to her utter shock, all her other personal witchly effects that by all rights should have been destroyed upon her death.

Debby's eyes grew misty as she realized how much she missed that vibrant woman.

She turned to the indicated entries and read them silently, pacing the length of the living room once. She pushed back the melancholy which threatened to cloud the meaning of the words with the bittersweet memories of the last day Debby saw Elizabeth alive.

She closed the folder with a snap and took a deep breath, blinking away a tear before she turned to face the others. "It made no sense to me back then, and it makes no sense now," she said in a strained voice. She cleared her throat when her words threatened to dissolve into a sob. "I regret I had delayed so long before I read the journal. By the time I reached this point, she was gone."

"So whaddaya mean it makes no sense?" Ned asked. His voice was more hesitant, and Debby wondered if he were afraid of treading on sensitive ground.

"Please, Ned, don't feel guilty for pressing me," Debby said in a soft voice. "After what happened, you deserve an explanation." Debby clutched the folder to her bosom. "Goddess, I had never known why she had died, not until Jason told me his story about the House."

"I don't understand," Ned said.

Cassie gasped. "I-I think I do. Mrs. Radson, when did Elizabeth pass away?"

"Near the end of July," Debby announced in a toneless voice.

"That ... isn't that when Jason and the others ... when Mara appeared to them in the House? When she told them it was a test and gave them the vision of her and Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Cassie, I believe it happened on the very day," Debby said. "They said she had taken a nap sometime in the afternoon and died in her sleep. They said ... th-they said she had never looked more peaceful in her whole time at the nursing home."

"Mara," Cassie whispered.

Debby nodded.

"Okay, fergive me fer bein' as dense as my nose," said Ned. "But what gives?"

"Ned, remember that Mara's spirit was tied to the House," Cassie explained. "Elizabeth did that. She did some sort of ritual she didn't really want to do."

"Elizabeth always struck me as someone who felt she was living past her time," Debby said in a low voice. "I once managed to coax her into a reading. I had to smuggle a candle into the nursing home. Her psychic aura told me she was waiting for something despite having already made peace with the idea of her passing. Her spirit was still anchored to earth, and she would not leave until the anchor was removed."

"The House, Ned," Cassie said. "She lived only for it and Mara. Once Mara's spirit was freed from the House, she visited Elizabeth, and then Elizabeth knew they had finished what they had set out to do."

Ned let out a windy sigh. "Wow, that's heavy."

"Do you see what Mrs. Radson is trying to say now? Would a woman like that make a mistake like this? Would she throw away years of dedication on some foolish belief that she was crazy?"

"Okay, y'all have me convinced, she was sound o' mind," said Ned. "And body, too, considerin' some of the horizontal shenanigans I heard she got inta."

"Sexual pleasure does not have to stop because of a mere numeric age," Debby said in a gentle voice.

"Uh, yeah, jus' don't go makin' me get any mental pics of that. Anyway, the numero uno problemo is: it gets us nowhere. Fine, we've all agreed we're in the swamp an' we gotta drain it. Now what do we do 'bout the crocs?"

Debby opened the journal and thumbed through some of the entries where Elizabeth described the effects of the potion, how to use it properly, and in what amounts. "Are you sure Jason found nothing else? No codes, no hidden annotations?"

"He said nothing to me about it," Cassie said. "I've only glanced through his notes, but there doesn't seem to be any mention of anything like that."

Debby sighed and closed the folder, handing it back to Cassie.

"Mrs. R., did Elizabeth leave ya anything else?" Ned asked. "She couldn't've just had the journal ta her name."

Debby gave them a troubled look. She could tell by Cassie's face that the young empath had already picked up on both the reluctance and guilt which swept over her. No matter what she did, she would never live it down. She refused to call it a choice between the lesser of two evils, for the Darkness had redefined the term "evil."

She slowly sat down, and Cassie held out a comforting hand. Debby squeezed it, but gently nudged it aside. Before she could speak, the doorbell rang. She was not sure whether to be annoyed or grateful for the delay. "Ned, would you please get the door? That's probably Diane."

Ned bolted and rushed to the door. Debby turned her head when she heard an unexpected voice. Ned returned with not just Diane but Richie in tow as well.

"Richie!" Cassie cried. "You made it!'

"Yeah, old Seeger's a softy nowadays I guess," Richie drawled, his hands deep in his pockets.

Debby's eyes widened as she gazed at his psychic aura. The edges of the band representing his emotional state vibrated like violin strings. Of most concern was a dark blue, inner band she had never seen before. It looked as if it were struggling to expand outward, occasional spikes trying to inject themselves into other bands, only to be blunted rather aggressively by Richie's ego.

"So what we miss?" Richie said.

"We told Mrs. R. about Jason an' his bright new future in hotel management," Ned said. "An' now we're figgerin' there's gotta me more ta the journal than what Jason read."

"There fuckin' better be," Richie grumbled.

"Um, should I come back later?" Diane said in a small voice.

"Of course not, Diane, you should hear this too," Cassie said.

"Diane, we'll get to your lesson shortly," Debby said. "I don't expect this to take long." She stood and gestured to the empty seat. "Here, sit. Richie, please take the easy chair."

Debby waited for the others to settle. The debate in her head had ended with Richie's arrival; it reminded her that she had cast her lot with the Harbingers, and they took precedence over tradition. "Ned had asked me if Elizabeth had given me anything else. I don't know how relevant they will be, but ... how best to explain this ..."

"What, you've been holdin' out on us?" Richie demanded.

"Richie, please," Cassie said.

"It's okay," Debby said. "They were not anything which would have helped. Modern witches keep a book called the Book of Shadows. It describes in detail the rituals that the witch has used during her lifetime. It's considered a very personal thing. More often then not, a witch's Book of Shadows is destroyed upon her death."

"Um, not ta trample on yer traditions or nothin'," Ned said in what Debby was sure was his most delicate voice possible. "Isn't that kinda like inventing something and then burnin' all yer notes?"

"We have a sort of central Book of Shadows for common rituals," said Debby. "The personal Book of Shadows contains rituals which have been altered to suit the witch's needs or new ones she invented. They are always tuned to the witch who created them. Magick is very personalized."

"What about the journal, Mrs. Radson?" Cassie asked. "Isn't this considered personal as well?"

"Yes, but traditionally less so than the Book of Shadows. A journal like that is sometimes called the Book of Mirrors. The only other things she left me was her Book of Simples, which contains instructions for the preparation and use of herbs and simple recipes for salves and ointments, and a locket."

"Anything in the locket?" Ned asked.

"The latch is jammed shut, and I felt it violated Elizabeth's privacy to pry it open." Debby sighed. "Not that I have done much better by looking through her Book of Shadows. When I realized something was happening in Haven, I wanted to ask Elizabeth's permission to look into her Book of Shadows. That was when I had learned she had passed on. I ... I should have burned the book then."

"Wait, why the fuck would you do that?" Richie said. "She gave you the damn thing so you can read it, right?"

"I don't know why she gave it to me, Richie," Debby said. "It was about a year before her passing. It's not a day I like to remember because ... she ... she gave me her affects and told me never to see her again. I-I begged her to reconsider and take back her Book of Shadows, but she became so agitated the staff had to sedate her."

"Did she say anything to you at all?" Cassie asked. "Anything that might hint at .... well, anything?"

"She was hard to understand once she became upset," Debby said. "All I could discern was something like 'it's in there, it's all in there.' That's why I read everything she gave me."

Cassie's eyes widened. "Then she did leave some sort of code!"

"I've been over her journal and all the books," Debby said in a tired voice. "I found nothing more. The Book of Shadows has no rituals which mention the Darkness. None of the recipes in the Book of Simples seem anything like what Elizabeth describes in her journal. Even if I had found something, she spoke repeatedly of a special ingredient central to the potion, and I have no idea what it could be."

"Huh? Potion?" Richie said. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's what Jason found in the journal," Cassie said. "Elizabeth had created a potion that helped her resist the Darkness."

"What?" Diane suddenly piped in an excited voice. "She actually found something that--"

"Claimed ta have found something," Ned said. "Remember what Jason said. She did a bootlegger reverse on us an' said sorry, jus' kiddin', thanks fer playin'."

"It's not quite that simple, Ned," Cassie said with a trace of irritation in her voice. She turned back to Debby. "I refuse to believe this is a dead end. There has to be something Jason missed."

"Something the nerd-brain missed?" Richie asked in a dubious voice.

"Jason's not perfect. We have to stop assuming his is." Cassie looked down at the journal. "We have to go through this ourselves and--"

Ned reached out his hand. "Give it here, babe."

Cassie looked up and stared. "What?"

"I wanna be the one ta look it over. I'm gettin' tired o' standing on the sidelines watchin' the game go by."

"But ..." Cassie trailed off.

"C'mon, it makes sense. Mrs. R. can't do it, she's already looked at it til she's cross-eyed and saw nothin'. You got yer gala luncheons and dinners. Diane's gotta focus on her lessons with the good witch Mrs. R., here. Richie, well, um ..."

"Hey, I don't want it," Richie said. "I don't get half the shit you're all talking about anyway."

"An' that leaves Heather and Melinda, who have their own problems. I'm the only one here with loads of time ta spare."

Cassie paused, then nodded and handed the journal to him. She stood and stepped over to her book bag. "You may want his notes, too."

Ned grabbed the folder of notes from her. "Got it." He looked up at Debby. "Ya know, mebbe we should look at what's in that locket, jus' fer shits and giggles."

"From the sound it makes when I shake it, I believe it contains ashes," said Debby. "Perhaps of the lover she spoke of in her journal who passed away before her, the only one she was ever close to in her later life. It will be here if we feel we need it."

"Gotcha, chief."

Silence fell, and many eyes turned to Cassie. She glanced around, appearing uncertain, and only an encouraging look from Debby stopped her from waiting for someone else to take charge. She stood. "Um, okay ... if there's nothing else, I think we should all leave so Diane can have her lesson with Mrs. Radson. I think -- that is, if Mrs. Radson is okay with it -- that this should be a regular meeting place after school."

"Yes, of course, I'm fine with that," said Debby. "And the room upstairs is available for ... other activities, when Diane and I are not using it."

"You mean fucking?" Richie said with a small smirk.

"Ah, that's the Richie we know and love," Ned said with a grin. "As subtle as a tactical nuke."

"Not today," Cassie said. "Not after everything that's happened. I really wish Heather would have come."

"She's too worried 'bout her little sis."

"She said she would try to meet me after I'm done here," Diane said. "I can fill her in."

"Thank you, Diane," said Cassie.

"Wait, you use that room for those lessons with Diane?" Richie asked of Debby. "Are you two doing the -- hey!"

Ned nudged Richie towards the door. "Git along li'l doggie."

"Fuck you, Ned, not like it's a freakin' big deal anymore."

"Yeah, but knowin' ya, yer gonna wanna watch."

"What's your point?"

Cassie rolled her eyes and turned to Debby. "I'm sorry about that, Mrs. Radson. I think Richie is just a little frazzled."

Debby placed a hand on Cassie's shoulder. "It's more than that, and I have feeling you already know."

Out of the corner of her eye, Debby saw Diane give them a concerned look.

"Hey, babe, ya comin'?" Ned called from the door.

"I'll be along in a minute!" Her gaze swept by Diane as it returned to Debby.

"Um, should I leave?" Diane said in a tentative voice. "If this is private--"

"Please stay, Diane," Cassie said. "Just don't tell Richie what we're talking about."

Diane nodded, stopped, and shook her head instead. "No, I better not listen. If Richie found out I knew something ... I have such a hard time lying to anyone anymore. I'll just wait for you upstairs, Mrs. Radson."

Debby uttered a small sigh as Diane raced up the stairs.

Cassie glanced at Diane before continuing in a reluctant voice, "It's like I can sense another presence in his head. He has no Aura so it can't be the Darkness."

"It's not another physical presence. It's more like what I sometimes see when one of you is using your shared link. In this case, however, he's resisting its influence."

"Is that good? Shouldn't he be resisting it?"

"I'm not sure. The color suggested nothing malevolent. Didn't you say you thought he shared a link with this father?"

"Yes, but that would be a good thing, and he's called on it before. Why would he be trying to resist it instead?"

Debby sighed. "All we can do is keep an eye on him."

Cassie nodded. "I better get going. Oh, and, um ... you probably already guessed, but I think I'm the leader of the Harbingers until Jason returns."

Debby nodded and smiled. "I know you probably don't agree, but I do feel you're the right one for the job."

Cassie gave her a wan smile and turned to leave.

"Oh, Cassie, wait!" Debby called out when Cassie was halfway to the door. "Have you had any more visions or insights into your past?"

Cassie shivered. "Sort of, but I want to think on it some more. It's getting too late today to get into it. I'll get with you later."

"Just be careful," Debby said. "Things buried in the past don't always want to be unearthed."

"Believe me, Mrs. Radson," said Cassie. "No one understands that more than me."

Jason paused outside the Inn, not so much out of a reluctance to enter as simple fascination with the building itself. Like many independent hotels, it sought to distinguish itself from the major chains with a rustic look, this one reminiscent of the waning years of the nineteenth century. With a light blanket of snow gleaming under the afternoon sunlight from a clearing azure sky, it looked almost picturesque.

He was unsure what he had expected. Perhaps he thought the very structure itself would pulse with obscene Dark energy, as if the building had its own Aura. What he did see were faint energy traces winding along the streets and converging at the Inn. Those affected by the Darkness sometimes left such patterns behind which Jason could detect, though they tended not to last very long.

He swept his eyes up the facade. The building was not very large, only three stories tall, and spread out into two wings from the central structure.

Jason took a few deep breaths, but they did nothing for his pounding heart. The link to the Harbingers felt dead, even more so than at his house. As he approached the entrance, he felt an all-encompassing presence settle around his mind, pressing gently but incessantly at the surface of his psyche.

Inside, the lighting was subdued, the walls festooned with pictures and paraphernalia intended to enhance the feeling of stepping into the Old West. It was just fake enough to give the room a tawdry feel. The floor was bare hardwood, the boards purposely warped to give the appearance of age. The fact that the warping was done in a regular pattern revealed the fakery.

Now the place had started to live up to his expectations.

"May I help you?"

Jason spun towards the voice. In the far corner of the room, light spilled down upon the front desk. Two women stood behind the counter. A tall, older brunette sorted hotel room key cards into their appropriate compartments. The other, a younger curly-haired blonde, stood at the counter, looking at Jason expectantly.

Jason shifted his gaze between the two. Neither had an Aura. Despite the chill outside, the blonde wore a midriff-baring top which hugged her ample breasts, and shorts clung to her hips. Her legs were bare save for high-heeled, calf-length boots.

"Um, yeah, I think so," Jason said in a hesitant voice, his chest aching from the thump of his heart. "I'm ... uh, there was a job opening ... I guess I'm here for that."

"Oh, yes, Ms. Missen mentioned that to us this morning," the young woman said in a bright voice. She leaned over the counter and pointed down the hallway past the counter. "Her office is straight down that way, last door on the right."

Jason glanced down the dim hallway. "Um, thanks."

"Boy, she got that position filled fast!" the young woman said. "By the way, my name is Cindy. Just in case you get the job."

"Oh, uh, Jason."

Cindy smiled and tilted her head. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but how old are you?"

"Fifteen. Is that a problem?" Jason dearly hoped it would be.

Cindy shrugged. "I suppose not. Ms. Missen must know what she's doing. I started working here this past summer when I was still seventeen and had to get my parents' approval."

"You've been working here for four months?"

"More like five, yeah. Pretty sweet deal, really. Just about everyone who comes here already has a reservation and knows exactly what room they'll be in. Hardly have to do much of anything."

"Cindy," the older woman said in a sharp voice. She was dressed somewhat more conservatively, though her blouse was a size too small, the buttons stretched across her cleavage. Her jeans looked painted on. "Don't force this young man to keep Ms. Missen waiting."

Cindy rolled her eyes before she turned her head. "Sorry, Helen. But, really, why does she need anyone else?"

"That's not your concern," Helen said. She turned a stern gaze towards Jason. "Run along to Ms. Missen's office if you would."

Jason nodded and slowly stepped away from the desk, Helen scrutinizing him until he was out of sight.

Jason found the door easily, as it bore the plaque "STACY MISSEN, GENERAL MANAGER" in bold if faded utilitarian letters. He took another deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in, Jason," said a sweet voice from within.

If the fact that the woman knew his name had not convinced him this had been set up specifically to lure him into the Darkness' lair, what he saw when he opened the door would have. Stacy stood as he entered, and a shiver radiated up his spine at the sight of her massive, roiling Aura. Its power rivaled even Nyssa's, and the patterns he saw churning within suggested both one thoroughly enslaved and most assuredly in control.

Jason thought of her as a nexus, a bridge between the Darkness and reality. Or she was a proxy, a puppet the Darkness could manipulate to its own purpose.

"Please, Jason, come in and have a seat," Stacy said in the same honey voice, gesturing towards the left.

Jason closed the door, the click loud and final. Like the lobby, the lighting was subdued, with the only brighter illumination spotlighting Stacy's desk. A plush sofa stood against the left wall, a love seat against the right. Behind Stacy was a massive bookcase spanning the entire wall.

He hesitated before sinking into the dark cushions of the sofa, sitting at the end closest to the door. Stacy stepped out from behind her desk. Her hips moved with an almost hypnotic sway as she strolled towards the sofa. She left a respectable gap between her and Jason as she sat, though she draped one of her arms along the back of the sofa behind him and crossed her legs, letting one shoe dangle from her toes.

"So, Jason," Stacy said in a business-like voice with a sultry undertone, her lips curling into a conspiratorial smile. "What would you like to do here at the Inn?"

Jason paused. The pressure upon his mind had not become any worse, yet remained incessant. The room felt warm and pleasant, encouraging him to relax and let go of his anxiety. "I didn't think I had any choice in the matter, Ms. Missen," Jason said in an even voice.

Stacy smiled. "In that case, then, what do you think you'll be doing here?"

Jason struggled to stay focused. The atmosphere was meant to lull him in to a state of complacency, to give the false impression he had little to fear. "With all due respect, Ms. Missen, I'd rather not play these games," he said in as firm a voice as possible. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Stacy giggled. Her arm slid from the top of the sofa, and she stroked Jason's cheek. Jason let out a ragged breath and shuddered as his skin flushed hot. "Are you telling me you intend to be that compliant?" Stacy said in a husky voice. She trailed her fingernails down his neck and over his shoulder. "That you intend to do whatever I ask of you?" She slid her fingers down his arm and over his thigh. "And be happy to obey?"

Jason swallowed and struggled to keep his legs closed as her hand slid down and back up his thigh. His cock strained and pulsed, yet it remained a physical reaction only. He felt no compunction to do or feel anything other than sexually aroused.

Her hand slid over the inside of his thigh, and his trembling legs parted. Stacy draped her hand over his bulging crotch. She leaned forward, her bosom brushing his arm as she cooed into his ear, "And look forward to your reward?"

Jason panted and stared down at her hand. His cock ached, silently begging for her attention. Still nothing impinged on his mind. He felt no desire to submit, no urge to please her.

Stacy withdrew her hand and chuckled. "If I wanted a mere slave, I have any number of boys to choose from. And, in fact, I have several who already follow me around like little puppies."

Jason forced his brain to work. He had to regain the initiative and not let her carry the conversation, despite everything conspiring to coax him into going with the flow. "Then ... then you want to make me try to control others, so I can turn on my friends."

"You believe it to be that simple, Jason?"

"There are not a lot of choices. Nyssa already did something like that to me. You're not exactly doing anything original."

Stacy stood. "Ah, I see. Your perspective has been tainted by Nyssa's rather crude methods."

Jason tried not to let himself be distracted by her swaying ass as she stepped away from the sofa. "What difference do the methods make?"

"Oh, a great deal, a great deal indeed." She stepped towards the door. "Nyssa used you as a mere puppet. You were just a shell she moved about, like a chess piece."

Before Jason could think of a reply, Stacy opened the door and took a step into the hallway. "Oh, Cindy? Could you step into my office, please?"

Jason straightened, his muscles tensing. His cock had managed to lose some of its rigidity, but it still felt uncomfortably plump.

He heard running feet in the hall as Stacy stepped back and then a rush of words. "Ms. Missen, if this is about what I said earlier when you told me about posting the job, I only meant ... oh!" She saw Jason and gave him a small smile. "Um, hi."

"Cindy, if you would be so kind as to keep Jason company for a few minutes? I need to step out and run an errand."

"Oh, uh, sure, Ms. Missen," Cindy said.

"Thank you." Stacy stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Cindy turned towards Jason and gave him another smile.

Jason wondered what was Stacy expected him to do. He still felt no compunctions and no desire towards Cindy beyond a normal reaction to seeing an attractive young female.

Cindy appeared to have her own awkward moment, then shrugged and dropped into a seat near the middle of the sofa. "So, she tell you whether you get the job or not?"

"Um, no, not really."

Cindy leaned closer. "Hey, um, forget what I said earlier about not needing anyone, please. I mean, don't repeat that to Ms. Missen."

"Oh, uh, sure." Jason paused. "You really don't have that much to do?"

"Yes, and I prefer it that way. Don't get me wrong, I'm no slacker." She pointed to her head and grinned. "Don't let the blonde hair fool you. I have this job so I can get some money for college."

Keep her talking about herself.

The thought had simply appeared in Jason's head. If he had not been so lacking in things to do or say, he would have questioned it further. It sounded innocuous enough that he went with it. "So you already graduated high school?"

Cindy smiled and nodded. "Haven High class of 2005. Believe me, I was glad to get away from that place." She paused. "Oh, um, not that it's all that bad. You're going there, right?"

"Yes, I'm a sophomore."

"Oh? Hey, is Terri Hollis still teaching there? She always gave me the creeps. Especially when I hit sixteen."

She needs to keep talking about herself.

"What bothered you about her?" Jason asked.

Cindy hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "Well ... the details don't really matter, do they?"

Keep pressing her to reveal her feelings.

The words flowed through Jason's thoughts like glue, sticking themselves to his psyche despite his willingness to let the matter drop. It could not be the Darkness speaking, as it had a cadence he would recognize at once. If anything, he felt it was ignoring him.

"I'd really like to know," Jason said.

Cindy stared at him for a moment, then wrapped her arms around herself. "I swore sometimes she looked at me like ... like she wanted me, as in ... you know."

"She was attracted to you?"

Cindy shivered. "Maybe. I don't know. There was some other stuff she did, but I really don't want to discuss it."

Don't let up. Keep pushing her. You really want to know.

"What other stuff?" Jason heard himself say. He was confused as to why he would care about the prurient details of her brush with the cult.

Cindy paused for a long moment, alternately fidgeting and running her fingers through her hair. "She, um ... After school one day she introduced me to a friend of hers named Victor. He asked me all these really personal questions, like about boys I went out with ... If I had sex yet ... How often I had sex."

Jason's cock stirred, and he understood what was happening. He refused to play along any further; he did not want to hear this, and Cindy did not want to tell it.

You want her to reveal everything.

Jason clenched his jaw against the words which wanted to flow past his lips. The thoughts were both his and not his. He looked around the room as if hoping to see the source of his compulsions. He thought it had an undertone of Stacy's honey-sweet voice, but it may have been his imagination.

You have to know, and she must answer you.

Jason wanted to shout "I know what you're trying to do!" but instead he asked in a more sedate voice, "What did you tell him?"

Cindy swallowed. "I, uh ... um ... L-look, why does it matter? I didn't--"

"Tell me what you told him."

Cindy gave him a glazed-eye look, then let out a soft sigh and spoke in a breathy voice, "I told him ... I told him everything. How I was sneaking around with my girlfriend Joann's guy and having sex with him after baseball practice. How I was still having sex with my regular boyfriend on weekends."

Jason's cock became stiff and pulsing, aching for release. In his head, he saw Cindy on her back, being fucked hard by one boyfriend, or on her knees taking the other boyfriend's cock into her mouth.

She's getting excited remembering it.

Cindy suddenly shivered. "I never figured out why I told him all that," she said in a husky voice. "It just seemed like I should, like I could trust him. It even got me a little horny."

"Like now?"

Cindy swallowed and nodded. She wrapped her arms around herself again, her nipples poking her shirt.

Now relate it to the present. Make her tell you what she does now.

Jason's mind floated in a warm mist. The coziness of the room had settled into his head, making everything which happened within seem right at home. It had to be Stacy's voice. It came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"I'll bet you still have lots of sex now," Jason said.

Cindy shivered. "H-how are you doing this? Why am I ... I don't ..."

"I'm sorry," Jason said in a strained voice. "I ..."

Don't let her avoid answering. Don't let her resist.

Jason fought the words, now that he knew they did not spring from his own mind. They continued to push back and insist they were his own desires made manifest.

Everyone wants to be in control.

The tiny kernel of truth broke past his resistance. "You still have a lot of sex now, don't you?"

Cindy's eyes again glazed for a moment. "I ... y-yes. More than I ever had in high school."

"How often?"

"Just about every day."

"You love sex, don't you?"

Cindy's arms loosened. Her lips twitched into a slow, sultry smile. "Yes, I love it."

Now you have her. Now make her do what you want.

Jason's hands clenched into fists. His cock ached so much that he could not keep it confined for much longer before it became painful.

You want her. She's so horny and wet.

Jason repeated the mental mantra that none of this was coming from him. This was no different than what Nyssa had done.

Yet some small corner of his own mind relished the opportunity to fuck such a pretty, blonde-haired girl.

"You're wet right now, aren't you?" Jason said in a low voice.

Cindy shuddered and squeezed her legs together. "Yes, but I don't understand why," she said in a tiny voice.

Turn everything back to her own weakness.

"Because you want it now."

Cindy panted softly and ran her hands down her thighs. She gave Jason a sultry look.

Make her a slave to her own desire.

"It would feel good having a cock up your twat right now, wouldn't it? That's all you can think about."

Cindy closed her eyes and shook her head once, but uttered a long, ragged sigh.

No more words are needed. Make it seem inevitable and she'll follow along.

As much as Jason wanted to resist these compulsions, he jumped at the chance for relief. He undid his belt and slid his jeans and briefs down his legs. Cindy stared, her lips parting, her eyes widening as his stiff cock bobbed free, the tip glistening and sticky.

Cindy slowly stood, her gaze never leaving Jason's pulsing cock. Her breath became a heavy pant as she pulled off her shirt and bra, ample flesh rippling, her nipples erect points. She pushed her shorts and panties down her legs, the latter sticking to her pussy before peeling away, leaving her lightly-haired labia behind in swollen and glistening glory.

She stepped out of her clothes and straddled him, her body trembling with need. She grasped his cock and aimed it at her pussy, hesitating only long enough to let out a ragged sigh. She gasped as she dropped her hips, his cock sliding into her with a faint wet sound. "Oh God ..." she moaned as she pressed her mound against his body, swallowing his entire cock.

Jason wanted to remain passive, but his own lust would not let him. He grasped her waist and guided her first humps until she picked up the tempo, her body slapping against his.

He was vaguely aware of the door opening and closing. Stacy appeared from behind Cindy, smiling. She strolled to the sofa and sat down. Cindy did not so much as glance at her, as lost as she was in her own need, panting in time to her humping.

"No, Jason," Stacy said in a soft voice. "Not at all like Nyssa. You were not a puppet. You had all this inside you. I simply guided it."

Jason tried to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. Pleasure rose, and then that was all that mattered.

"We all want to control. We all want to make others do as we want. We all have the desire to manipulate others. I'm going to make that possible for you."

Jason wanted to scream that he had already passed that test. The House had offered the power, and he had rejected it.

"I am aware of all your thoughts, Jason," Stacy said in a silky voice. "Just like my voice can get into your head no matter where you are in the Inn. I am so attuned to this place, I am almost literally a part of it now. What Elizabeth did for Mara was amateur work by comparison."

"Oh God ..." Cindy moaned. "God, I love this ... I love fucking ... I love fucking you ..."

Jason tried to quell the desire to have her fuck only him, but as the pleasure rose and his cock strained for release, he could think only about how nice it would be to have a girl who would have sex with him at his bidding.

But it's normal to have these kind of thoughts! he screamed in his own words in his head.

Stacy smiled. "Now you understand."

Jason groaned as he hung on the edge of climax. Cindy panted hard and closed her eyes, and Jason sensed she was approaching her orgasm as well. His mind spun with the desire to make Cindy desire only his cock.

Entries from Elizabeth's journal suddenly sprang into his head. He saw the words play across his mind, describing how the Darkness operated; how it controlled and kept control; how it exploited the mind's weakness; how it preyed on faults as well as desire.

Jason's cock exploded into orgasm, and Cindy let out a shrill cry. Distracted at the critical moment, Jason's dark desire did not manifest in Cindy's psyche, and as she rode the fading remnants of her orgasm against Jason's flagging cock, her eyes widened.

"Oh God ... what did I ...?" Cindy gasped and scrambled off the sofa. "Jason! I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over ..." Her words trailed off as she turned her head. "Ms. Missen?!"

Stacy smiled. "It's okay, Cindy."

Cindy draped an arm across her breasts and covered her pussy with her other hand. "I-I don't know what got into me, Ms. Missen! I don't do this kind of stuff at work! I--"

"It's fine. Now, put your clothes on and go back to work."

Cindy blushed and nodded. She glanced at Jason's cock as she picked up her clothing and hastily dressed. Jason slowly pulled up his briefs and jeans, his head full of fuzz. It cleared in time to see Cindy head towards the door.

"Oh, and Cindy?" Stacy called out.

Cindy stopped and turned towards Stacy from the hall, ready to close the door behind her. She backed up a step as if using the door as a shield.

"Jason will be joining our staff. Please make him feel welcome."

Cindy's eyes widened. She glanced at Jason, blushed fiercely, and fled.

"I didn't do it," Jason said with a relieved sigh. "I didn't make her want just me."

"Oh, very true. You managed to resist your desire. I actually admire that. Still, you have made an impression on her. You've already taken the first step towards enslaving her to your will."

"I don't want to enslave her!"

Stacy smiled. "You'll learn in time what your real desires are." She stood and strolled to her desk. "That's all for today, Jason. I understand Penny Sovert is to take you home. Please wait in the lobby for her. She's busy with a client right now but should be done soon."

Jason felt something else needed to be said or acknowledged. He felt cheated. It would have been better had he been enslaved directly. He used to think what Nyssa had done had been the worst trauma he had ever suffered. Now he was not so sure.

Without another word, Jason headed out of the office.

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