Cassie had guessed right; she had to suffer a thorough examination by the family physician before she was allowed any respite. He finally left with orders for her to rest undisturbed for the remainder of the day.

She hurriedly changed into her night clothes, then grabbed her cell phone as she sat on the edge of her bed. She called first Jason's father, then the Sovert household, then the Gardner household. Two rings each time and hang up before someone picked up.

She uttered a deep sigh. It was all up to them now.

She pulled back the covers, but just as she was about to lie down, she gasped and spun her gaze around the room. She felt the Presence of the mysterious entity which had helped her as much as confounded her.

"Please help me," Cassie said. "I need all the help I can get right now."

To her relief, she sensed nothing but eagerness and sincerity from him. She slipped into bed and drew the covers over herself. In seconds, she was fast asleep.

Melinda knelt between her Aunt Jo's thighs, her mouth and tongue buried in wet flesh. She had let her enslaved persona take control, leaving the protected self to engage her mother's psyche, except she still had no idea how she was supposed to do it.

Her body shivered in helpless sexual abandon, and her protected self was forced to wallow in the same revolting swamp of incestuous lust. Jo's pussy was her world, as it would be for the rest of her life were she to be taken away.

Aunt Jo uttered a gasp, and she pushed Melinda's face into her mound. Melinda angled her head so she could catch a sip of air before her breath was cut off by wet and musky pussy flesh. She jerked her head up and down, lips and tongue stroking Jo's clit, her nose filled with Jo's overpowering arousal.

As Melinda's lungs strained, Jo shuddered and gasped. Her thighs tightened around Melinda's head, and sound joined the other senses which had been captured by Jo's cunt. Jo relented a few seconds later, and the pressure behind her head eased. Melinda drew back, panting to recover her breath yet still ministering to her aunt, drawing out Jo's orgasm.

Aunt Jo uttered a gusty sigh of approval as Melinda drew her head back and gazed up at her aunt in hopeful anticipation. Jo smiled as she looked down. "Mmm, very good, my little slut."

"I love your pussy," Melinda heard herself say. "Your pussy is so delicious. I could lick it all day."

Jo chuckled. "I just may have you try that some day. Now stand up."

Melinda obeyed. Jo slid her hands around Melinda's waist, eliciting a shudder and a soft moan. Her hands slowly caressed Melinda's sides until Melinda was panting.

"You just adore my touch, don't you?" Jo purred. "You could get off on me touching any part of you."

Melinda gasped as a spike of pleasure radiated from her pussy. She swallowed and closed her eyes, hips squirming.

"Wouldn't that be something? To be able to cum by simply caressing your cheek or stroking your foot? But then again, I rather like what you can already do."

Melinda gasped as Jo pinched her nipples. Jo rolled the hard flesh between her fingertips, tugging them until Melinda's breasts lifted from her chest. Melinda clenched her teeth as her nipples throbbed, her pussy climbing with excruciating slowness.

Jo relented, and Melinda's breasts bounced back into place, the nipples aching. Melinda's pussy steamed and oozed, her thighs damp. Jo slipped a single finger over Melinda's clit, and Melinda mewled with need and desire.

Dimly through the haze of lust came the ring of a telephone.

Jo spared it only a glance over her shoulder. When it stopped after two rings, she paid it no further mind. In the far corner of the room, Penny seemed lost in her own world, her legs spread, one hand stroking her pussy while the other pawed a breast.

"But we'll leave that for another time," said Jo. "I have a dildo that's just waiting to go up your twat."

Melinda shivered in anticipation as her protected self finally saw through the pall and realized what had just happened. Had that been the signal? Had she heard the second ring, or had that been her imagination? Or had the phone not rung at all?

By the time Melinda was ready to act, she was on all fours with Jo entering her from behind. Her body started to rock to Aunt Jo's forced rhythm when she gathered her wits and looked towards her mother.

What am I supposed to do now? Melinda silently pleaded. Do I just will myself into my mother's mind and--

A roar arose like a mighty wind, as if she had been caught in a tornado. Reality spiraled into incoherency, and she felt as if she were hurtling down an endless corridor. Something surged in the distance, and she came to a stop in total darkness.

Melinda heard nothing but her own hard breathing. She was still on all fours, but she was alone. She raised her hand to her face, but saw nothing but the featureless black.

Before panic could set in, light flared a short distance away, a spotlight shining down from nowhere into nowhere. Melinda turned her head towards it as she staggered to her feet, and she gasped at what she saw.

The spotlight shone upon a simple glass prison, no more than a rectangular box six feet high by three feet square. Standing within was her mother, but it was a Penny Sovert Melinda could scarcely remember. She wore a simple house dress, an apron tied around her waist, her hair arranged into a demure bun. Her hands were pressed against the glass, her head hung low, her eyes downcast.

Melinda swallowed and shivered hard. She was suddenly reminded of A Wrinkle In Time, when Meg found her father trapped in the room on Camazotz. That scene had chilled her to the bone as a child, and this was far too reminiscent of it.

Melinda had taken only a single step when she heard a slithering sound rising from all around her. She peered into the darkness until it took form. Countless tendrils writhed in a loose halo about her mother's prison.

Her heart pounded so hard that her chest ached. She slowly stepped forward, eyes and ears observing the Darkness. It made no move towards her, as if unaware of her presence. She stared at her mother's motionless form. Was this what her mother really wanted to be? Just a good mother and keeper of the household?

It helped her set aside more of her lingering resentments, but not all. She could not quite rid herself of the last, and that was what stopped her.

"Mom," Melinda called out. "Mom, I'll get you out of--"

Melinda stumbled to a stop as the Dark tendrils thrashed from the inky black, and a figure rose from nowhere before her, blocking her path.

"What the ... who are ...?!"

Melinda stared, and her mind sailed off the edge of reality as a figure stepped into a small spotlight of her own.

"Heya, runt," said Heather. "So just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Richie did nothing halfway, regardless of the task or the purpose. When he fucked his mother, he fucked her good. Now she lay beside Cathy, still writhing in post-coital bliss, her eyes closed. Yet as the sounds of Richie fucking Cathy rose to a crescendo, Sandra's sighs of content became low moans of escalating desire.

Richie took it slow with Cathy, his thrusts methodical, his mind holding back both her rise and his. Cathy squirmed and moaned, pressing her hips to his in an unspoken plea for more. He granted her wish only in small increments, letting her rise to another plateau before holding her back again.

He heard his mother moan and felt her leg brush against his as she spread her thighs, her fingers sliding over newly aroused pink flesh. "Oh, Richie," Sandra said in a soft, husky voice. "I think I'm going to need another fuck."

"One fuck at a time, Mom, jeez," Richie said in a strained voice as he pumped his hips harder against Cathy out of instinct. When he realized what he was doing, he silently cursed himself and established a firmer grip on Cathy's pleasure.

Richie drew himself up and changed the angle of his thrusts so he had a little less direct contact with Cathy's clit. She whimpered and tried to angle her hips to compensate. Richie pressed her down, yet she tried again a few seconds later.

"Mom, go suck on Cathy's tits," Richie said.

Sandra did not hesitate, and soon Cathy squealed in delight as loud sucking and smacking sounds rose from his mother's mouth. Richie shuddered, enjoying the tableau despite the situation. Only staring at his mother's Aura brought him back down to Earth.

The Aura was still roiling, its tendrils caressing Richie's skin wherever they crossed paths and twining loosely around his waist and thighs. He could not feel them touching his skin, but a light pressure touched his mind. He knew the gentle treatment would not last. It had already made one attempt to overwhelm him when he had climaxed inside his mother's pussy.

He had drawn on the pooled energy to resist it, and now wondered if it would not have been better to let the potion protect him and make it think it had taken him. However, if he had done that, he wouldn't be Richie, always defiant in the face of danger.

Richie's rhythm faltered when the phone downstairs suddenly rang. His heart skipped a beat. Sandra did not move to answer it or even acknowledge that she had heard it. The second ring began then stopped a second later. Only silence remained save for moaning and the wet noises of sex.

Richie swallowed. This was it. This was where he fulfilled all his promises. This was where he made good. This was where he stopped being a total dick for all time. This was where he made up for all the bad shit he had ever done.

This was where he earned his father's respect.

He rearranged his mind, turning one part towards the continued sex act with Cathy and his other self towards his mother. Like Melinda, he had no idea what he needed to do other than think about entering his mother's head. And like her, he was not prepared for the cavalcade of motion and disruption of his senses as he was sucked down the mental vortex and deposited into the black void.

"What the fuck?!" Richie said in a gasping voice as he fought to catch his breath. For a panicked moment as he stared at the ground -- or what he assumed to be the ground, for he felt only pressure against his hands and knees and no real sense of touch -- he thought he had been struck blind. Only once his breathing had returned to normal did light suddenly spring from the blackness.

He lifted his head and scrambled to his feet, staring. "What the hell ... Mom?!"

Ahead lay a circle of light. Unlike Melinda, he saw no actual spotlight, no apparent source from any direction. It was no so much light as un-dark. Inside it was a large bed, and upon it lay the naked form of his mother.

Her arms and legs were spread in a wide "X," hands and feet lashed to the bedposts with chains and heavy padlocks. Inky black tendrils extended from outside the circle of un-dark and slithered around her thighs, teasing her pussy with furtive touches. Other tendrils swirled around her breasts and slid over her erect nipples. Sandra whimpered and moaned, her body trembling hard enough to rattle the chains.

Richie swallowed as he heard a sound like that of a thousand snakes slithering around each other from all around him in the blackness.

He stepped closer to the bed. What was he supposed to do? Open the locks? Break the chains? He had neither the keys for the former nor the strength for the latter.

Richie shook his head. No, this wasn't reality. This was some sort of representation of his conflict with the Darkness. He and his adversary made the rules. The Darkness had already done so by setting the scene. Richie would do so by fulfilling a role.

His role would be Superman. He would have the strength to break the chains and free his mother. It was that simple. It had to be, for he had no other options.

He started forward. The slithering grew louder until it drowned out the sound of his pounding heart. Did the Darkness sense what he was doing? Good. Let the Dark bitch know. He was about to clean its clock just like he had with Melissa. It wasn't going to have his mother as its stooge any longer.

"And just where the FUCK do you think you're going?!"

Richie nearly jumped out of his skin. He let out a yelp and spun around in place looking for the source of the voice. He staggered and fell hard on his rear, panting, his eyes glazed over in fear.

A huge shadow separated itself from the darkness and approached him, looming over him like a golem. It took the shape of a man, two thick arms crossed over a broad chest. He stepped into the un-dark, and Richie's eyes widened.

"D-Dad?!" Richie croaked.

The image of Mike Hendon glared down at his son, face red with fury, eyes blazing points. "I asked you a fucking question, you stupid little shit, and I expect a goddamn fucking answer!" he roared.

"This is not what I had asked of you, slave," Laura said in a dark voice.

"I-I know, Mistress, and I am terribly sorry for disobeying you," Heather replied.

"Who is it I asked you to get for me?"

"Melinda, Mistress."

"Is this Melinda?"

"No, Mistress."

"Is this even remotely like Melinda?"

Heather whimpered. "No, Mistress."

"How could you have possibly conceived of the idea that I would accept a substitution?"

To this, Heather had no reply.

It would have pained Diane more to hear this conversation had the panties been removed from her. Instead, Diane lay on the floor, writhing in sexual torment as another phantom cock fucked her long and hard. This time it belonged to someone she had never met. Not that it mattered; she felt every long, thick thrust as if he had been her lover all along.

She closed her eyes, and the experience became even more real. Her pleasure rose towards another crescendo, and she silently begged to be allowed to go over. In the back of her mind, line energy seethed, ready to be released.

But it would not gain release until she did.

She heard Laura utter a heavy sigh, and was then aware of a shadow passing over her. Diane opened her eyes and saw Laura standing over her with hands on hips and robe parted. Diane caught a glimpse of Laura's bare pussy and fought the impulse to look away.

"Do you expect me to take her as my slave instead?" Laura asked without taking her eyes from Diane.

"I ... p-please ... if you would, Mistress."

Laura whirled around, and Diane was treated to an equally unwanted view of Laura's ass when the robe fluttered. "What?"

"Mistress ... Diane is ... we're lovers."

Laura paused. "Really."

Diane let out a shaky breath when the fucking abruptly stopped, and the cock ceased to be. She writhed, achy and needy, trying to get the now inert dildo to send her over the edge. It was to no avail, her pleasure already retreating from the brink.

"Diane is a lesbian, Mistress. She was attracted to me. She loves me. I love her."

Diane clenched her jaw to suppress a sob, but her eyes misted just the same.

"Well, that is unfortunate."

Complete silence descended for the next few moments.

"I am not going to get into this 'power of love' nonsense," Laura said as she turned towards Diane. "Get up."

Diane took a moment to realize that the order had been directed at her. She quickly stood while she was still in the brief respite between sensual assaults.

"Not that it should matter to me, but what do you want out of all this?" Laura demanded.

Diane looked past Laura, where a naked Heather was on her knees with her eyes downcast. Diane turned her gaze back to Laura's hard eyes and said, "I-I want to be with Heather."

Laura raised an eyebrow.

"I ... I did this willingly."

Laura looked at Heather, then back to Diane. "If I didn't sense anything other than unquestioned loyalty from my slave right now, I'd say you were up to something."

Diane had no idea what Heather had told Laura about her, so she had to take a gamble. "I don't have any powers, not like some of the other Harbingers."

"And you'd still be willing to disrupt your merry little band just to be with Heather?"

Diane gasped as the dildo became a cock again, and yet another stranger became intimate lover. She fought the urge to drop to all fours so he could take her from behind. "Uhng ... I-I love her ..." she moaned.

Laura said in a low voice, "I suppose you do."

Diane could no longer fight it. Her phantom lover wanted her from behind, and she had to oblige. She dropped to all fours, and her body rocked back and forth to his quick, hard thrusts.

"You realize that, if I agree to this, you would become my slave," Laura said in a sly voice. "And your time with your so-called lover would be at my discretion and to my amusement."

"Uhng! Uhng! Y-yes! Uhng!" Diane moaned.

"Do not think, either of you, that this still excuses Heather from taking Melinda for me!" Laura snapped. "I still want her, and I will have her. Yet I will take Diane for now."

Diane panted hard as she was again brought to the edge of orgasm. Line energy roared just behind an invisible barrier, one which would not be breached until her pussy crossed the same line. It was denied yet again.

"Up."

With difficulty, Diane stood, panting hard.

"This is going to have to be a part-time arrangement for now, until I can deal with your parents." She tilted her head and slowly smiled. "I suppose having you will not be bad at all. You're a little skinny for my tastes, but I do like the faint Asian look." Laura stood back. "Strip."

Diane did not hesitate. She pulled off her clothes quickly, and even reached for the panties by instinct. Only when she could not slip her fingers under the band did she remember.

Laura's lips curled into a wicked smile. "That's right, my would-be slave. You can't remove it. Only I can."

Diane's eyes widened as a cock again began a slow slide into her pussy, her legs bending at the knees.

Diane gasped. She felt a sudden pressure against her protected self and shivered as the all-too familiar cold touch of Dark power tried to worm its way into her head.

She didn't know what to do. If she switched to her enslaved persona, it would act loyal to Jason, yet she could not let Laura get into her real self!

The tendrils did not penetrate far, slithering against the surface of her mind. Was this the potion's doing? Was it actually shielding her protected self? She had to hope so.

"No sense in resisting me if this is what you really want," Laura said in a silky voice.

Diane moaned as lust made it hard to think, her pleasure again rising to excruciating proportions. The line energy was chaotic, building ever more as she had no idea how to close the channel once it was open. She had to release it, or it would pool and burn in the back of her psyche.

Diane whimpered as her pussy strained and fell back. The line energy went on straining. She could not tolerate another tease. It was now or never.

She felt Laura's hands touch her hips, then tug the panties down. Diane let out a quavering sigh as the nub parted from her labia, her pussy dripping and musky. The panties fell down her legs.

Diane thrust her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit furiously. She soared up and over the top, crying out her ecstasy at the same time the line energy burst forth into her mind.

Blue-white abruptly spun and spiraled around her into gray and then black as she hurtled into the void. Before she could catch her breath, she was on the ground in complete darkness with her gasping breath the only sound.

Dim light suddenly glowed in the distance. Diane looked up, and her eyes widened. She stood and stared.

Heather appeared naked and kneeling inside a soft light which just barely distinguished her from the dark. It grew more distinct as Diane approached, and she saw light glint off steel. A collar was fitted to Heather's neck. Attached to it was a gleaming chain wrapped around the top of a post.

"H-Heather?" Diane called out, her voice echoing into the distance, as if she were standing at the bottom of a gigantic cistern.

"I am slave," Heather replied in a monotone that made Diane shiver.

Diane ran up to her and crouched by her side. "Heather, I ... wait." She paused and looked around. She saw nothing in the featureless dark, eerily silent save for the lingering echo of her own voice. "I-I'm going to free you, Heather."

"Slave is not free," Heather said. "Slave obeys Mistress."

Diane swallowed and held back a sob. She lifted her shaking fingers to the collar and felt around its circumference. She found no latch and no hinge, as if it had been cast as one piece. Nor did the chain have a lock. It simply linked back to itself atop the thick metal post.

Diane grabbed the chain. She could not give up now. She felt the line energy still flowing through her in a torrent, even if she could not see its blue-white glow. She started to pull.

She pulled until she clenched her jaw. She pulled until her arms ached. She braced her feet against the post and pulled until her legs ached. Finally, a link began to stretch.

"Yes, that's it," Diane whispered. "I-I can do this ... I can do it ... I ..."

A sound in the distance startled her, and her grip slipped. The stretching link closed as the chain went slack.

Diane swallowed and stepped back, listening. Footsteps, distant but growing closer at a steady, crisp pace.

Diane's heart pounded. This was where she would confront her greatest fear. She had spent the better part of the day at school going over it in her head, all the possible things he might do and how she might counter them. She reminded herself that he was only a mirage, an illusion sent to frustrate her.

She stepped away from Heather. She did not want this confrontation to involve her lover. This had to be between Diane and Victor and no one else. She had to confront her remaining fears over him.

Yet as the footsteps grew closer, she realized something was off. It didn't sound like a man's shoes. It sounded more like high heels.

Diane saw a figure approach, resolving itself from the absolute black. Its outline traced a figure of voluptuous form, moving in time with the staccato clacking of her heels. The black of the figure became gray, and then gleaming white.

"Oh no ..." Diane whimpered as she retreated a step.

The figure stepped into the light. A spotless white nurse's uniform hugged a buxom form. Long wavy blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Ruby red lips curled into a sly smile under ice-blue eyes.

"Hello, Diane," said the image of Nyssa. "Long time, no see."

Henry fished out his cell phone and took a deep breath when it stopped at the second ring. He let his breath out slowly through his nose and shoved the cell phone back into his pocket as he left the car.

He did not want to risk alerting Audrey and hence the Haven Entity, so he jogged down the street the rest of the way. He had his keys in hand before he reached the front porch. He uttered a soft curse as he fiddled with the lock, not having entered through the front door in ages.

Henry was inside just as his wife raced down the stairs and stopped at the bottom, staring at him in shock.

Henry paused when he saw that Audrey had stripped down to her underwear. He drew in another long breath as he realized how sexy she remained even through giving birth and raising a child. She had never let herself gain any significant weight, and what she had gained was sculpted into curvaceous form by the exercise she got from just the day-to-day bustle of running a household.

"Henry, what on earth are you doing home at this time? And why--?"

Audrey suddenly staggered, clutching the banister to maintain her balance.

Henry wondered what Jason would see now. Would he actually know what his father had done, how his father's mind had tapped into the stolen energy from the Entity and used it to seize his mother's conscious mind?

Henry stepped closer, and his wife's eyes glazed. Maintaining control was difficult. The Entity's power was formidable, surging in strength now that it had noticed him. He had known there would be no disguising his intent.

He could hold out for a little while, but his reserves were limited. The Project had only recently learned how to synthesize the energy, but only in very small amounts. He had to count on the others to start distracting it soon.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, Audrey," Henry said in a soft voice as he reached her.

Audrey stared at him, eyes devoid of any real feeling other than synthesized lust. She shuddered as Henry pushed further, shoving the Entity back far enough to influence his wife's libido. Once he had control of that, the rest would be a little easier.

Audrey shuddered and slipped off her bra and panties. She fell to her knees before him, breathing hard, and reached for his belt and zipper.

Henry closed his eyes, trying not to dwell on the fact that he had made his wife into a sex puppet. He let out a soft sigh as his hard cock slipped past Audrey's lips. He felt doubly guilty for this. This was something Audrey was not comfortable doing as anything more than an occasional treat before Jason was born, before he even knew of Haven, or the Entity, or the Project.

He reminded himself it would not be this way for long. If he was successful and drove the Entity out, she could again make love to him with the normal fervor of a loving and sexually neglected wife.

So he hoped.

Henry lay a trembling hand against her cheek. He did not let her drive him too far. Like the Harbingers, he had some control over his own sexual response, but it was not as fine-tuned, and it took more mental discipline which would otherwise be used in holding the Entity at bay.

He urged her to stand. She looked at him with lustful but otherwise vacant eyes. Henry's throat felt tight. I know you're still in there, Audrey, and I hope I can bring you back. I hope I can make everything seem like a bad dream.

"Let's go upstairs," Henry said in a soft voice, just as he had when a night of amorous affection on the sofa appeared ready to advance to the next step.

He had hoped to see the sexy little smile Audrey used to give him, but all she did was stare and nod. Henry clenched his teeth and steeled himself. He took her hand and led her up the stairs.

Cassie gasped as she floated in the line of force under the mesa. At once the spirit was with her, just as it had been that night she had tricked the guard into believing she was an angel. He hovered behind and around her, and had he a corporeal form, she imagined she would have felt his arms around her waist.

She was not sure how to interpret the gesture. The sensation of eagerness from him was so overpowering that it drowned out anything else he may be feeling.

"Are you here to help me?" Cassie asked in a tentative voice. Her words had a strange glassy quality, as if she were surrounded by crystal instead of pastel line energies.

She felt something shift in his Presence. It felt almost like being squeezed gently around the waist for a moment, as if in reassurance, yet his eagerness remained radiant.

Cassie willed herself forward. She glided down the corridor with even more ease than she could remember, and for a moment she feared that either the Darkness was pulling her or the spirit pushing her. She stopped just to convince herself she could, then glided onward.

Cassie shivered as she spotted the Dark stain in the distance, not so much for its presence as how it reminded her of the harrowing experience of falling through the mesa. The ethereal faces had spun around her like a tempest, emotions pummeling her from all sides.

Warning! Danger! Rage! Terror! Anguish! They had assaulted her empathic senses until she was sure she would burn out from their sheer force. It had been a relief to enter the quiet of the line.

She glanced to the side, where she could see the other converging lines of force. They grew more distinct as she raced forward, and the great blackness in the node undulated with obscene power. Pulses of liquid darkness flowed down the corrupted line. She sensed an urgency and wondered if she were seeing the Darkness sending more energy to Audrey Conner to help her resist her husband.

Cassie felt the first wave of icy cold flow around her body like melt-water in a stream. She shivered and stopped. Her empathic senses buzzed with dark lust and wanton greed, and she realized she was close enough to the Darkness to sense its surface emotions.

Cassie swallowed hard. Did it know she was here? She looked up and willed herself to see the real world. She was still a full block from the Inn. She shuddered with the revelation of how large an abode the Darkness had fashioned for itself.

She shook her head. No, not an abode, but a prison. Despite its power, it was trapped in the node. The essence of itself which it had extruded down the line of force was all it could do. Its core being was still trapped.

Cassie willed herself closer, and suddenly the ethereal arms tightened around her waist but did not hold her back. She drifted closer until she could almost reach out and touch the black miasma which obscured the center of the node.

Cassie let out a quavering breath. Its emotions raged through her head. At first it seemed more of the same, until she caught a flicker of something else. It flew through her head too fast to identify, but it had been different from the lust, greed, and calculation. She thought if she could penetrate just a little further, she could get a hold of it long enough to ...

Suddenly, she was rising, but through nothing she had willed. Before she understood that the spirit had done it, she blinked at the sunlight as she stood on the sidewalk across the street and halfway down the block from the Inn.

Cassie had the presence of mind to will herself into a dress, though she did not bother with a bra. She let out an exasperated sigh. "I wanted to get closer than this," she said before breaking into a run.

She still felt the spirit's presence, though not as close. She assumed what he had done had been for her safety. Perhaps those dangerous thoughts of plunging further into the black had not been her own. While she was still protected by the potion, it was not meant to deflect a direct attack by the Darkness.

Cassie was panting by the time she reached the door, only partially from the exertion. The whole Inn pulsed with its own emotional glow, amplified by the converging line energies. She felt as if she were channeling the combined feelings of its patrons, most of which had descended into sexual abandon with the Inn's staff.

Cassie stepped inside and felt as if she were wading in a vast river of desire. It rode her empathic senses into her psyche, and her pussy grew warm and wet at its command.

"May I help you?" asked the brunette at the desk.

Cassie stepped forward. "You have ... um, an employee here, his name is Jason. I--"

The woman pointed past the desk. "He's in Stacy's office."

Cassie looked where the woman pointed. She stepped back from the front desk and saw the solitary door with the nameplate upon it. Her heart thumped.

"If you'd like to see him, you can just go right on in."

Cassie stared at the woman, who gave Cassie a pleasant smile. An Aura shimmered around her body.

Cassie realized that the danger had now doubled. Jason was already aware she was coming for him. She should have realized he would never have been fooled. It had only delayed the confrontation. She no longer had the element of surprise.

The Inn felt like a single living entity, as she could no longer distinguish the individual sources of emotion. Her body was swaddled in warmth, her pussy aching, her thighs trembling. Her nipples were hard, tingling each time they brushed the inside of her dress.

She had to concentrate to feel the presence of her spirit companion, and she was never more grateful for his presence.

Cassie nodded to the woman and stepped towards the door. She hesitated with her hand on the knob, as if expecting to find not Jason but some embodiment of the Darkness itself. She steeled herself and opened the door.

The first thing she saw was the desk on the opposite side of the room, the chair behind it empty. She was not aware of another presence until a figure rose from the sofa, and Cassie uttered a startled yelp as Jason suddenly stood before her.

"Good to see you, Cassie," Jason said, smiling. "Now, be a good little girl for me ..."

Cassie shuddered and moaned. The curtain in her mind abruptly twisted back on itself until it had encapsulated a portion of her psyche. She staggered as she reeled from the separation.

The effect dissipated quickly as Jason asserted himself over the captured fragment of Cassie's mind. Her body was suffused with pleasure, her pussy feeling as if it had been bathed in warm oil which caressed her folds as good as any finger, tongue, or cock.

"... and close the door behind you ..."

Cassie pushed the door shut, shivering as her body reveled in the blissful pleasure of obedience, pussy rising towards the promise of sweet orgasm.

" ... and drop to your knees before me."

Cassie moaned and fell to her knees, panting hard. Her pussy rose, strained, and burst. Her hips jerked with the intensity of her orgasm, pleasure rising through her body and casting its lustful pall over her mind. Her isolated self channeled it into itself, keeping her protected self untouched.

Cassie felt the separation far more than the others. She felt like two people now resided in her head. The effect would have been utterly fascinating if the circumstances had not been so frightening.

The dress slipped away from her body as Jason willed her to do nothing but remain still while he undressed her. She quivered with growing excitement at being naked before her master. She uttered a lustful sigh as Jason cupped and fondled her breasts, stroking the nipples until she whimpered.

"You do feel rather solid in your Projected form, Cassie," Jason said. "I would love to know how this works. My understanding is that whatever affects your Projected form will remain when you return to your real body, so we can take care of our unfinished business now. This is actually easier than using Diane."

Cassie's protected self resisted the urge to chastise him for even thinking of using Diane in that manner. She reminded herself that he was under the Darkness' control. His Aura roiled as if the Inn were somehow fueling it.

"Stand up."

Cassie obeyed, trembling with desire. She let out a low moan, her eyes sliding closed as he tugged her panties down her legs, leaving her naked, wet, and helpless.

"There's a time limit on Projection, that much I know," Jason said. "So we can't really waste any time. I'm really sorry it had to come to this, Cassie. I really would have preferred you came around to my thinking on your own."

Cassie hoped his statement meant there was something of the old Jason inside him, something she could latch onto, as this was proving to be harder than she had ever thought.

Jason stepped back and yanked down his jeans and briefs, leaving one inside the other as he stepped out of them. Cassie watched with growing anticipation and lust, her hips writhing in growing need. She let out a slow, husky sigh at the sight of his erect cock, her eyes riveted, her pussy oozing.

Jason took her hands and stepped back towards the sofa. Cassie panted as her folds ached for the touch of his wonderful cock. Her protected self saw every nuance of his mental manipulation, and had she not had the potion, she doubted she could have ever countered it on her own.

Tendrils of his Dark power tried to worm their way around her psyche, as yet unaware that they had been confined to a microcosm of her real self. Yet her protected self still fought the same problem that had plagued the others; her body was not hers to control or ignore, and the same sexual arousal which suffused her enslaved self also affected her protected self, making it harder to think.

Jason sat on the sofa, and Cassie straddled him. She eagerly guided his cock to her pussy and slowly sank upon it, letting out a throaty moan as he filled her tight tunnel.

Her protected self was forced to enjoy the sensation of his thick cock inside her, and of the wonderful slow rise of pleasure as she began to hump. She pushed through the growing pall and drew upon the stored energies at last, and at once was sent on the same spiraling journey as the others into the dark void of Jason's mind.

Cassie landed in a blackness that was not quite as absolute as it had been with the others. She saw flickers of ethereal energy, like fireflies flitting through the void. She turned her head and saw that they moved along specific paths, as if flying down twisting conduits.

She slowly stood, too fascinated by what she was seeing to be scared. Were these flickers of thought and emotion? Was the same ability which let her see the curtain in her mind giving her insight into the very structure of Jason's psyche? She could almost discern a pattern, as if she were close to reading his thoughts.

Cassie forced herself to look away. It seemed all she did was discover more things she could do, more ways to become dangerous. She did not want to read people's moment-to-moment thoughts any more than she wanted to control them. What she could do with her Dream Gift was enough of an invasion of privacy to last her several lifetimes.

Cassie squinted as a bright, pinpoint red light shone in her eyes. She tried to shield herself from it with her hand, but it somehow kept finding a way through. She finally sidestepped out of it and saw a faint beam tracing through the air. It emerged at head-height somewhere in front of her.

Cassie's eyes widened as she was suddenly aware of the presence behind the light, as if it had been veiled from her. She took a trembling step forward. "J-Jason?"

She was forced to raise her hand when the light again flashed in her eyes.

"Jason, I know that's you," Cassie called out. "Why can't I see you?"

"Hello, Cassie."

Cassie froze, her heart leaping into her throat. It had been Jason's voice, but it sounded as if it had been sent through some sort of electronic distortion, giving it a machine-like quality. Now the little flickers of thought looked more like sparks of electricity.

Cassie swallowed. "Jason, I'm ... I-I'm here to rescue you."

"I need no rescue," came Jason's chilling semi-mechanical voice.

"Jason, you've been tricked! You've been told lies. You think you're doing this because it's right but--"

"I need not know what's right. I need only to be part of the whole. I am Jason of Haven."

Cassie staggered back a step. Now this situation felt as familiar as it did chilling. She struggled to remember the reference. It was something Jason had mentioned as way of an analogy when they were theorizing as to the methodology of the Darkness.

A light shone down from above, and all her doubts were eliminated. She uttered a gasp, her eyes wide and shimmering as she stared at what this representation of Jason's psyche had become.

He stood as straight and still as a mannequin, his face stoic, his eyes blank. Pieces of what looked like electronics and machinery were grafted onto parts of his body. Thick wires ran from them into bare skin, as if intending to spread itself like an infection. Half his face was covered by another of these cybernetic implants, the light which had flickered in her face shining from its artificial eye.

"I am Jason of Haven," Jason repeated. "I have been assimilated. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

Cassie recalled reacting with a bit of carefully hidden amusement at the time Jason had mentioned this analogy. Everything always seemed to elicit some sort of Star Trek reference with him.

Cassie tried to convince herself that this meant some part of Jason was still there. Something had to have conjured this image of himself. The controlled part of his mind would have portrayed himself as looking and acting no differently from the Jason they had been subjected to for the past two weeks.

Cassie took a tentative step forward. His appearance was symbolic, and thus her response had to be in kind. What could she do? Rip off his implants? Would that cause his illusionary self to "bleed?"

She flinched when she heard noises rise from the dark. The pathways along which the little flickers of light traveled came into sharper focus. Her eyes widened as she saw a vast network of tendrils of Dark power, all slithering and sparking like sentient electric cables.

She understood. The Borg-like implants represented the parts of his mind that had gone over to the Darkness. Simply ripping them off would not work, as it would be the equivalent of a brute-force attack. Perhaps the others could do it, as they were further removed, but Cassie stood at ground zero, right above the Darkness' own lair.

Maybe I could ... I could take control of them, Cassie thought.

Control the implants, she reasoned, and the Dark power within them would be forced out. "Control again," Cassie said in a small voice. "It all comes down to that. Why does it have to be that way?"

A voice suddenly rang out from the darkness. "Because that is what one with power does, Cassandra!"

Cassie yelped and jumped back. Crisp footsteps echoed from the void, and a figure appeared. Cassie held her breath as it stepped into the light.

"That is something you never seem to learn no matter how many times I tell you!" cried the image of Dorothy Kendall. "Power is meant to be used, Cassandra, as it leads the way to more power. That is what the Kendall name is all about!"

For the first time in a long while, the Darkness was content.

It could never make it further than that. True happiness was something which was denied to it forever. Its initial banishment had seen to that. It could bask in the glory of its power; it could revel in the lust it fed on from the insatiable sexual appetites of its minions; it could feel desire, it could feel pride, it could feel triumph, but never happiness.

So be it.

It had sensed Cassie's approach and knew what she intended to do. All she had accomplished was delivering herself to it. Jason would soon make her his compliant slave. Through her and Diane, the rest of the Harbingers would fall, and together they would usurp Melinda and Heather from their so-called "owners" and turn them to the purpose it had planned for them even before they had reached puberty.

It was not even terribly angry with Henry Conner. It could almost laugh. Did he think he could free his wife so easily? Had he foolishly arranged this coordinated attack thinking his pitiful bit of stolen power would be any sort of match for it? It did not even need to help Jason. All the latent energy at the Inn, channeled through Stacy, was more than enough to subdue Cassie.

It had sensed Richie's activities. It had been suspicious of the timing, yet when it touched Sandra's mind, it sensed nothing different. Nor did Penny seem in trouble. If the Harbingers attempted an attack, it would have no trouble keeping them at bay. It needed to do only the same thing it did with everyone who thought their will strong enough to pit against it: reveal their darkest desires or their flawed self-perceptions and use it against them.

Save for Audrey, it turned a blind eye to the others' activities. It wanted to watch Cassie fall, and with her the last hope of the Harbingers.

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