 
The Master

Elaine Waldron

Copyright 2010 Sandra **Elaine Waldron**

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction.

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I

Suddenly interrupting what had been a very peaceful slumber, a blinding, spiraling light appeared. Jenny Logan tossed fretfully, turned and made an attempt to wake, but some unknown force held her captive, thrusting her back to just below consciousness.

This overpowering phenomena wasn't new; she had experienced it before – always in her sleep. A somewhat soothing masculine voice called softly to her, "Jenny ... Jenny ..."

"What do you want?" her voice quivered. "Why are you here? _What are you?"_

The voice called again and did more than speak her name. It made a statement that would haunt her for some time to come, "Jenny Logan, it is out of great love for you that I am here."

Her eyes popped open.

A shimmering phosphorescence slowly took on solid form, rolling and turning upon itself until it was the outline of a tall man.

Outside the figure a vivid-red glow pulsated like a heartbeat. Muscle covered bone and flesh covered muscle. Large eyes were at once crystal-blue. Flaxen hair radiated with platinum iridescence.

She was in complete awe as he reached long arms out to her and bid her to come. "Sweet Jenny ..."

"No! Get away from me! Go away!"

No heed was paid to her objections. "You must not be afraid. Come ... Come to me!"

"No!" she shrieked, realizing she was awake and sitting up in bed. Then the light was gone – and so was he! She rubbed her eyes and whispered, "Shit!"

No circumstances under heaven or in hell were going to allow her to go back to sleep. She briskly tossed back her covers, left her bed and switched on her bedside lamp. The small rhinestone-encased digital clock on the nightstand told her it was five-fifteen a.m. – the exact time the dreams had previously come to her. With shaking hands she donned her pink cotton robe and hurried to the kitchen for her instant coffee.

Had it not been for the dream she would have slept in 'till seven; she didn't need to be at Safeway until eight. Now, she had two hours to drink coffee and ponder her dream before reporting in.

David Miller piled the last twenty-five-pound sack of dry dog food on the stack by the Coca Cola machine. He glanced over at Jenny, thinking she seemed unusually nervous today, then checked his Timex. Ten minutes before Jenny's break. Gloria was in back stocking canned goods. He would call her up to relieve Jenny.

He slipped into the little six-foot by five-foot glass-encased room he laughingly referred to as his office and paged Gloria to come up front. The bleached blonde bounced up to the cashier window and asked David what he wanted. When he told her to relieve Jenny, she winced and started cowing her gum.

"Thought I told you to keep your mouth shut when you're chewing that garbage?"

"Sorry, Dave," she said unenthused.

Why am I cursed with this ding-a-ling? He wondered. "If you can't do as I ask, you'll find yourself standing in line at the Texas State Employment Commission waiting for you paychecks."

She puckered up her thick lips, frowned, decided she'd better not tempt him and replied, "Right." She reluctantly relieved Jenny at the register.

"Like some coffee, Jenny?" David poured himself a fresh cup of the steaming brown brew. "Just made it."

"Maybe I will. It smells good."

He found Jenny's quiet manner most attractive. She wasn't like a lot of women, not exactly shy, just almost. Although it was against company policy, he had been aching to ask her out for some time. If they were discrete, maybe no one would notice.

He was hopeful. However he would have to ask her first. He handed her a full cup and eased down opposite her, studying her intently.

She averted her moss-green eyes and stared off at the bone-white teapot clock on the wall. Her slender hands trembled noticeably.

"Something wrong, Jenny?" He peered at her over his mug, warm steam rising in his eyes.

"No ..." her voice trailed off as though she were deeply contemplating something.

"Look," he said and took a sip before continuing, "if you don't mind my saying so–? You aren't yourself today."

Her long lashes fluttered and she looked back at him. She hadn't realized her depression was so apparent. "I am sorry. It's nothing ... really." There wasn't any way she could tell him she was depressed because of her stupid, senseless dreams. Why, he could think she was more than off kilter. Just down right nuts!

"Maybe," he said slowly, "what you need is an evening out with the boss?" Boy! Does that sound like corn! Or what?

Her jaw dropped. She could have caught a fly. Obviously, he was the last person she would have expected to ask her out, especially with company rules forbidding it.

He found her reaction amusing. "Don't look so startled. You are a very ... pardon the expression ... 'hot' lady. Any healthy, red-blooded male in his right mind would be crazy to not want to take you out.... How's about a movie?"

"I ... I don't know." She blushed at the term 'hot'.

"You have other plans?"

"No," she answered along with a shake of her head and a far away look.

She had not dated since she and Tom were divorced more than a year prior. She'd been so in love – but he had been impotent, something she had not been prepared to cope with. What made matters worse: he had tried to pin the blame on her, saying she wasn't capable of understanding a man's needs. What finally saved her self-esteem was an accidental meeting with Tom's ex-wife, Paula. It was then Jenny learned that Paula had had the same problem. The knowledge hadn't saved her marriage, but it did save her sanity.

Here she was, a woman of twenty-six and didn't know what it was truly like to be made love to. All she knew was what she'd read and had been told. She felt cheated. Yet, it was against her religious convictions to go out and sleep around just to relieve physical needs and satisfy her curiosity. It was a problem that was hell to live with and much too private to tell.

"Jenny," David's tenor voice brought her back to the present. "Well? Is it yes? Or no? Want to take in a movie tonight?"

Perhaps a little companionship was what she needed. "Yes ... I think I'd like that."

A huge grin covered his face and he told her he thought that was great.

She smiled faintly.

"Pick you up at eight." He stood and set his empty cup by the coffee pot. "Got to get back to work. You still have five minutes, though." Just as he was about to pass through the doorway, he turned back around. "Take your time." With a cheerful wink, he went on.

She nodded as though he was still standing there, and she hadn't really heard. She was seeing the awesomely handsome man with those blue, blue eyes beckoning her to come. "Who and what is he?"

After a slow and surprisingly sweet good night kiss, Jenny slipped into her apartment and softly closed her door, not bothering to switch on lights.

The amber and blue digital sign across the street on JIM'S LIQUORS AND WINES lit up the small living room enough for her to see her way clearly past her desk and her computer and into the kitchen. She paused at the table and pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering David's gentle kiss – not too harsh, not overly tender – but pleasant and unhurried.

Their date had been more entertaining than she had anticipated. Both had enjoyed the science fiction movie. The evening had been a welcome change, actually relief, from Jenny's usual lonely nights surfing the web until she was bored or reading a paperback or watching an old romance classis on basic cable. "Oh ... well. Work tomorrow," she muttered to herself.

David poured himself a nightcap, plopped heavily into his green-leather lounge chair and propped his feet up on the matching stool. Jenny had been dressed really cute in red jeans and a simple white blouse.

He liked her auburn hair loose and fluffy, free to dangle over her shoulders, not pulled back severely in a ponytail. He thought that she would do well wearing it that way all the time.

But what was so heavy on her mind? He took a long sip of his drink, letting it wash over his teeth before swallowing. He had hoped that she would open up and talk to him, but every single time he had made an attempt, she managed to change the subject. Almost uncanny, it was. Disheartened, he sighed. "Oh well. At least she's agreed to see me again Friday night for bowling. Maybe she'll open up to me then.

No matter what Jenny did, she could not fall asleep – too afraid to dream again. She rolled out of bed and went for a glass of cold milk and a couple of peanut butter cookies she'd picked up from the bakery. She settled down on the sofa, taking a bite of the first cookie, hoping to relax. It was winter, but the room was unusually hot. Stifling. She rose and turned on the AC. Just as she did, she thought for a fleeting moment that she saw the man in her dreams. Startled, she fell back against the wall, crumbling the second cookie in her hand and dropping it to the floor. The white curtains flapped from the breeze wafting up from the vent. Maybe that was what she had actually seen?

" _Talk about stressed out!"_ she shrieked. "I'm paranoid!" She gulped her milk down and returned to bed.

The phone was rudely caustic as it suddenly roused Jenny from a deep sleep. She frowned at her clock as though blaming it. Seven! Who would be calling on her day off? Unless ... Mother! Only her mother would be so thoughtless. Jenny almost knocked her Nokia phone to the floor, catching it right before it landed. "Yes ... Mother?"

"And how did you know it was me?" Mattie Sims asked in her somewhat girlish voice.

"Because you're the only person I know who would phone me at seven in the morning! On my day off!" she added.

"Well ..." a long pause, "you don't have to be so rude. Even if it is your day off – especially – if it's your day off, you should be getting ready for church."

"Mother! Service isn't until eleven. Besides, we've been through it all before. A million times, at least. I do not like that church you are so bent on dragging me to. Everyone there is holier than thou and, frankly, that kind of pious attitude, I can definitely live without."

"May the Lord forgive you," Mattie blurted, as though Jenny had uttered some unforgivable blasphemy.

"See there. Precisely what I am talking about. They have you hook, line and sinker. No, Mother. This is my day off. I want to sleep and hang loose. You know ... take it easy."

"Jenny ..."

"I am going to turn my phone off, now. Bye! She promptly placed her phone by the clock. She was too upset to manage any more sleep. Instead, she dressed, went to the kitchen and ate a bowl of cornflakes, took a Geritol and, after gathering her newspapers from the front door, sat on the sofa to read ... the funnies. Everything else was war, rape, poverty or violence. She didn't need any of that. She settled for Garfield.

Dressed for the day, Jenny was searching for something to thaw out for her dinner when the doorbell rang. She slammed the freezer door shut and went to answer the bell. She was surprised to see David standing at her door grinning from ear to ear.

He appeared the complete nerd, dressed in a dark brown suit, beige cowboy hat and dark sunglasses, looking like a slightly misguided want-a-be Texan, but missed the track by about a mile. Somehow that cowboy hat just did not suit his dorky but cute, book-worm face. She stifled the urge to giggle.

"Hi!" he said in his geeky but polite manner. "I know I should have phoned first. But I just left church and thought you might like to have lunch with me someplace.... You haven't had lunch, have you?"

"No," she said, staring at that hat. If he only knew how out of place it looked on his head. "As a matter of fact," she said slowly, "I have been trying to decide what to thaw out." Best for her to focus on something else or she would burst out laughing.

"How's about a nice juicy steak from Black Angus?" He said, realizing she was staring at his hat. He quickly removed it and held it to his chest.

Better, she thought and put her hand to her mouth to hold back a giggle. She turned so he couldn't see. "Sounds like a winner to me. Come on in while I change into something nicer than these old jeans."

"You look good enough to me," he said, following her into the living room.

She turned back around and gestured to herself. "Are you kidding? I can't go in these worn-out jeans and this ragged sweatshirt."

"Whatever," he said cheerfully. "But you still look fine to me."

Later at Black Angus when Jenny and David had finished their meal, Jenny sighed pleasantly, smiled into David's anticipating face and said, "Everything was absolutely delicious, David. Really hit the spot. I was starving." She gently shoved her plate away. "I couldn't force down another bite, if I had to."

"Should have invited you before. In fact, guess I should have asked you to church."

She waved a hand in protest. "Please! Spare me, will you?"

He coughed a nervous, nerdy cough. Her reaction had surprised him. "I said something wrong?'

"Church, David. You said church. Please ... let's not go there."

He took a sip of water and set his glass down, fingering the stem of the crystal.

"Sorry, Jenny. I realize we may not share the same religion, but you act as though it was the worst thing I could have suggested. Why is that?" His eyes held hers. He looked somewhat offended. "Don't you believe in God?"

Now she had done it. She had gone and injured his feelings. Not what she had intended. "Sorry. Guess that was a bit harsh. I am really sorry. It is simply that every Sunday morning I go through this 'you should go to church' scene with my mother. It is driving me nuts and getting _very_ old. However ... to answer your question. Yes! I _do_ believe in God! That there is a supreme being. I know there has to be something. Otherwise, with all the evil in the world, everything would be absolute chaos. Something protects us from complete annihilation. There has to be a God."

"I, too, apologize. I had no clue that I would be touching a nerve in mentioning it."

Her lips formed a smile. "It's okay. Let's forgive and forget. Okay?"

Though he said it was all right, he really did want to know more. Perhaps later, he would question her. He changed the subject.

After David drove Jenny home, she invited him in and they watched television the rest of the afternoon, occasionally discussing minor problems and some of the gossip migrating around the store. He deliberated her delicate features and decided she could be the incarnation of Venus, if he had believed in such things.

Acutely aware that he had his eyes on her, she blushed deeply and averted hers. "You are shy, aren't you?"

Pink turned to crimson. "A little."

"I think more than a little," he mused. Suddenly it appeared that the nerd was the one with the advantage. It was almost as though he found it enjoyable.

He discovered a new kind of courage and slipped his arm around her neck.

She turned almost purple.

He sat back. "I can't believe this! Not you!"

She wondered what had happened to the nerd of a few minutes back.

"Weren't you married before?"

"Yes ..." She turned quizzical eyes to him. "Why?"

"How can you be so shy? Not that it doesn't sound appealing. It is. I find it delightful."

She wasn't about to tell him – although she had been legally married – she hadn't been physically, that the sex experience was still a mystery to her. She was well aware of what a man looked like and how much her body ached sometimes for that unknown experience, but the secret of it remained completely elusive. She didn't answer.

They had known one another for two years. Yet, it was only now that David was truly beginning to see there was much more to Jenny's quiet manner than he had anticipated. Her repugnance at the mention of church had really thrown him. His own father was a Baptist preacher, something he had always been proud of. He certainly wasn't going to blurt out the information, now. If they were to continue seeing one another, sooner or later, she would find out. He went to church regularly when he wasn't working. He tried to arrange his schedule – with as much consideration as possible for the other employees--so that he could attend most Sundays.

His dad often consulted him over sermons, a fact that he was proud of. Something he would like to tell her, but shouldn't now. His impulse was to wait in probing for answers to her reasons. But he suddenly decided to ask anyway. "Jenny ..." he started cautiously.

She rolled her eyes to him. "Yes?"

"This morning ..." he guardedly broached the subject, "you said you do believe in God. If that is so, why are you so adamant about not attending church?"

An obvious red tinge of anger came to her face. "I told you. My mother ..."

"You did tell me about her. At the risk of making you angrier, something I really do not relish, would you please tell me why?"

"Look ..." she continued with more fervor than previously, "It's cool that you like church and attend. You love it. Obviously, it suits who you are. And that's not a bad thing," she added. "But what is good for you is not necessarily good for me. I have absolutely nothing against your liking it. And I do not have anything against anyone else who wants to go. I do not care if you're Jewish, Moslem, Baptist, Catholic or a Buddhist monk. Just leave me out!"

Such biting words from anyone else would have sent David packing, for they were hurtful to him. Coming from Jenny, though, was different. He was compelled to understand. "Please don't get me wrong, here. I am not trying to drag you to my church. I would simply like to know why. I honestly want to understand."

She stared at him for some time, pondering his need to know. Finally, she spoke, "David ... I truthfully do not know ... exactly. I just know I get this out of place, strange feeling every time I step foot inside a church – like there is something vastly wrong – that all is not as it should be. Call me nuts, if you want. I can't help how I feel." Now that she had it out, she actually felt somewhat relieved.

"Can you be more specific?" He could see the irritation rising again. "No. Please don't take me wrong. I just really like you. I feel like I have to know."

She blew out air. "I don't know if I can explain. Please don't ask me to." She stood and went over and turned off the television, manually.

"Is that my cue to get my ass out of here?" He rarely used such language. For some reason, it just came out. Maybe he was more upset with her than he realized.

"What?" She spun around.

"You stood and shut off the television. And the remote is right here on the sofa. Does that mean you want me to go?"

"Oh!" Her hand went to her mouth. "No. I didn't mean anything.... You don't have to leave." She removed her hand, realizing her words were muffled. "See how this gets me all riled?" She grabbed the remote to turn the television back on.

"It's okay. Never mind. Leave it off, if you want? Wasn't really anything on worth watching.... Jenny, I like you a lot. One hell of a lot. I want to understand your reasons and your feelings."

She scrutinized his face. "Why does it matter so much?"

"Well ... For one thing, my dad is a Baptist preacher."

"Oh?"

He put forth a hand. "Don't jump to conclusions, now. I have no intentions whatsoever of trying to convert you. Honestly." He spoke to wary ears. He met her in the center of the room. She went to back off. "No, Jenny. Please! I am deeply involved in my dad's church. And liking you as much as I do ... Well ... I just don't want us to have problems because of it. I need you to understand where I am coming from, as well."

She pondered his words momentarily.

"Okay. I can understand a little ... your side. Guess if I were you, I would be saying the same things. For my sake, though, if you like me as much as you say, please don't bring it up anymore. You can go to church. Just don't talk about it to me."

"I do like you." He took her slender hands in his. "I will tell you this much. I will honestly try. But, I can't promise I won't mention it ever. I would be lying, if I promised that."

She was about to protest, but he interrupted her with a kiss. She pulled away, lowering her eyelids. She did not want to argue with him.

"But ... I will try."

She sighed slightly, "I guess that will have to do."

He cupped her chin in his hand. "Truce?"

"Truce." She smiled.

"That's much better." Again, he kissed her and for a very long time. But he wished he could get her to open up.

II

Jenny tossed, turned, squirming restlessly, sleeping but not really sleeping. Vague eerie voices whispered, calling to her, resounding through the corridors and remote regions of her subconscious. A beautiful dark-haired woman appeared – the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. The woman was nude and pregnant. Jenny was puzzled.

"Jenny ..." the woman whispered softly. "Jennifer Ann Logan, I have a gift for you." She held her arms out, but there was nothing in them. Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone.

Jenny opened her eyes briefly, trying to wake. Something snatched her back again. "No ... No ... No ..." she said. "Not again. Please! Not again!"

Instantly, the woman was replaced by a spiraling light. As in Jenny's previous dreams, the light took on the form of a man. This time she could make out his handsome features. There was a captivating intelligent gaze in his blue eyes. His hair was so golden it literally sparkled as though someone had spilt a bottle of glitter on his head.

A deep dimple accentuated his strong chin. Without looking closer, she knew the man was absolute perfection – flawless masculine beauty – Adonis!

"Jenny," he said, "it is out of deep love for you – the deepest love – that I am here." He, too, reached out.

She floated up from her body and out to his ethereal one. He took her hands and stood in the air before her. She gazed far into his beautiful eyes, into splendid blue pools, windows of a star-filled realm: Heaven itself.

An invisible net of intense warmth fell over her. No longer did she fear. He released her hands and took her shoulders and pulled her close. At this precise moment she knew he was real – perhaps not human – but real.

"Who are you?"

He smiled but did not reply. He moved closer, so close their lips brushed, then he kissed her. His caress was warm. Just when she thought she was truly going mad, he broke the embrace and, before she could speak, he dissipated, leaving her to find herself suddenly awake and actually standing in the center of her room. She had not been dreaming!

Her bedroom was dark with the exception of the glow from the digital sign below, casting mocking shadows on the wall. "Oh ... God!" she cried. "I _am_ insane!"

Without looking at her clock she knew it was a quarter past five. The vibrant tingle of _His_ kiss remained with her. It _had_ been real. But it couldn't have been.

David emerged suddenly from a deep sleep. His eyes popped open. Jenny! Something was wrong! His gut told him so. He groped for his cell, then hesitated. Maybe he was being silly? Possibly he'd had a bad dream and didn't remember? Should he call?

Jenny fumbled for her phone and wondered who would be calling so early. Surely it wasn't her mother this time. "Hello?"

"Jenny," David said apologetically, "I know this sounds crazy – but are you okay?"

She paused momentarily, taken aback by his uncanny ESP, before she could get her words out. "Actually ... I'm not. Not really. Weird you should pick up on it." Unable to hold back her confusion and frustration she let loose her sobs.

That does it! He thought. "Hang on, kiddo. I'll be right there.'

Jenny wasted no time in answering the doorbell, throwing her arms around David before he could even come inside her apartment.

"Hey ... honey." He led her to the sofa and they sat down. He let her cry until she had cried it all out. He wiped her tears away with his handkerchief.

She mumbled a halfway coherent thank you, then almost laughed aloud, thinking how serious but funny he looked. He was somewhat good-looking. Still he was such a nerd! The fact being that it actually made him attractive in a weird sort of way. Who but a nerd would have a handkerchief?

Now ... want to fess up as to what is going on?"

"That's just it, David," she sniffled and giggled simultaneously, "I don't know." This whole thing was so bizarre: his being so serious and not realizing how funny he looked in being so, and she thought herself horrible, finding him so amusing when he was trying so hard to be comforting and she was truly very upset. What an irony!

His brow furrowed quizzically. "How can you not know? You've got to have some clue as to why you are so upset?"

"I think I am losing my mind."

"I think you're very sane." He kissed her hand. "What could possibly make you think such a thing?"

"If I tell you, you might agree with me."

"I seriously doubt that. Try me."

"You'll be sorry."

"Let me be the judge of that. Try me, anyway."

She did. She told him everything about her dreams, when they started and what happened, even about the kiss from the mysterious blond-headed man, how real it had been.

He listened intently, greatly interested, and he didn't let on that he couldn't take her dreams as serious as she. The last thing he wanted to do was lose her confidence, now that she was finally fessing up to him.

She finished. "David ...?"

"What, Jenny?"

"I owe you an apology for giving you such a hard time about church. I've been very narrow-minded." This last dream had her so upset, it had set her to rethinking – maybe she should give church a chance. She told him so.

"Wonderful!" He was elated. "How about Wednesday night?"

"You have me scheduled to work. Remember?"

"Not to worry," he said with a sheepish grin. "I'll find someone to switch with you. I'll come up with some good excuse."

She chuckled.

"And what is so funny?'

"You! To think you would contrive a false story in order for me to attend church with you. David, isn't that just a bit duplicitous? Aren't you just a little ashamed?"

"Well," he said with a big grin, "I don't really have to make up a story. I will think of something legitimate. I figure the end justifies the means."

She socked him playfully on his shoulder. "You!"

That brought on a laugh.

An ex-Marine, Reverend John Miller was an intimidating figure to Jenny: stocky, medium height, a strong square chin, and piercing gray-green eyes that sparkled with intelligence. He was clean-cut and bared no punches when expressing his opinions. His hair was dark brown, and he had a thinning spot of the crown of his head. "Well," he said, vigorously shaking Jenny's hand, "welcome to our little congregation." He looked David squarely in the eyes. "About time you brought this nice young lady to worship with us."

David's glance fell to the floor and he turned slightly pink. "We haven't been seeing one another long, Dad."

"Doesn't matter. You should have invited her, the very first thing."

"But he did," Jenny interrupted.

"Oh?" A keen eyebrow went up.

She wasn't the only one blushing in front of Reverend Miller. She found his powerful personality very intimidating. "I declined the first invitation."

He brushed the end of his aquiline nose with the tip of his thumb, a gesture that was a habit with him when reflecting his thoughts. "I gather you aren't Baptist?" He was fishing.

"It isn't that ..."

"Dad?" David broke in, not wanting Jenny to get into a more embarrassing conversation, which he was all too aware was what his dad was heading straight for. "We thoroughly enjoyed your sermon this evening, but Jenny and I are famished. We want to go grab a bite to eat somewhere."

"Why didn't you say so, Son? You and Jenny are more than welcome, as you know, to come by the house for supper. I know your mother would be thrilled. You don't come often enough and eat with us at it is. She'd love visiting with Jenny."

David wasn't so sure. Jenny seemed nervous. "It's late, Dad. Perhaps some other time?"

"Nonsense. No time like the present. I think we're just having hamburgers and fries. But ... your mother will still be glad to have you over. I insist."

Jenny rolled her eyes up to David. "It's okay. Really. I'd love to go," she lied. It was actually one of the last things she wanted to do, but she wanted to make things easier on him.

She could see Reverend Miller had put his son in an awkward situation. And David was trying so hard to please the both of them. She felt a little sorry for him and thought it only fair that she should return the favor.

"You're sure? We don't have to."

"I think it would be nice to meet your mother."

"Okay," he said, but it was apparent he was still uneasy.

"It's settled, then," John Miller said, slapping his son affectionately on the back, then turning his attention to other parishioners exiting the church.

David grabbed Jenny by her elbow. "Come on. Let's go." And they skipped down the church steps and hurried off to his truck.

Immediately upon entering the Miller's living room Jenny was at once entranced by an oil painting of Jesus she had never seen. It was large, two-feet by three-feet, and hung opposite the entrance, directly over the tan Early American sofa. Jesus was resting on a rock or boulder, gazing up into the night sky at a bright star on the zenith. His face was gentle and serene. An instant calm washed over her. The feeling held her in a moment of surprise. This was something new to her, this peaceful calm. She stood and stared, absorbing the sensation.

"Lovely painting, isn't it?" John said as he stepped up behind her, practically breathing down her neck.

He was a little too far into her personal space, which made her uncomfortable. The serene moment was gone. She stepped forward a bit, to inch away from him. "Yes! It is beautiful!"

"Helen painted it," he said proudly. "Copied it from some library book. Put in her own colors, her own personal touch. I really think it's better than the original."

"I wouldn't doubt it. It's lovely." She was serious.

"Why thank you!" Helen Miller said from behind. The forty-ish dusty-blonde had joined them in the living room. She wiped her hands on her apron.

She had rushed home ahead of them and started dinner. "I hope you like hamburgers and fries?" she asked, studying David's new lady friend. "Always cook something easy and quick on Wednesday nights."

"I love burgers," Jenny promised, thinking she liked Helen's face. She appeared to be a warm and sincere person.

"It will be just fine, Mother," David assured. "I didn't tell you, Jenny, that my mom is an excellent cook."

"You're just a little bit prejudiced," Helen said and blew a thin wisp of hair from her eyes. "You know hamburgers aren't exactly a gourmet meal."

"I am sure they will be absolutely delicious, Mother."

"Come on! I believe that is sufficient flattery for one day. I will most certainly get the big head, if you persist."

With his hands on each one of Jenny's shoulders, from the back, David guided her into the kitchen where their sandwiches and steaming fries awaited.

Jenny wasn't certain as to how it all began, but about mid-meal the subject turned to religion. John politely, appearing to have no desire to offend, asked Jenny what her religious preference was.

"I just believe in God, Reverend Miller. I do not profess any particular belief."

"Dad," David quietly cautioned, holding a fry almost to his mouth. "Jenny doesn't like to feel pressured."

"No need to worry, Son. I'm not in the pulpit now."

David nervously tugged at his left ear, a habit he seemed to have been born with. "I know, Dad. You're much more subtle than that."

Fully understanding his son, John gave him a stern look.

David rolled his eyes to his mother -- who was looking at him with complete appreciation of his view but choosing to remain mute -- and ate the fry.

"My mother is a Baptist," Jenny offered.

"No! David thought. You're just giving him fuel! No!

John took the innocent bait and quickly replied, "Good! Here? In Texas City?"

"Calvary Baptist on sixth."

"Reverend Gates?"

"I believe so." She bit into a golden-brown fry, thinking it was moist and delicious. Nothing ever tasted so good as a hot, fresh French fry.

"Excellent! A fine man. I know him well."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't been there since he began preaching there a couple of years ago.

"Hmmm ... I see," John said. "Mind if I ask why you don't go?"

"Dad," David protested, knowing full well his father wasn't going to stop.

John cut eyes to his son. "It is a decent question, David."

"It's okay," Jenny said. "I'll answer. To be perfectly honest, Reverend Miller, I really do not believe everything to be 'gospel' truth that is taught in the churches."

John sat forward and turned slightly at the waist. An eyebrow went up. "Oh? Like what?"

David moaned. Now Jenny had done it. His mother feigned a reassuring smile, which didn't help even the slightest.

"You Baptist teach eternal security. Methodists teach that you can lose your salvation. So do UPCs, United Pentecostals, which is another story. Who's right? All of you can't be right. That question is only one example." It was obvious he was dying to interrupt. "No ... please ... let me finish. You did ask."

He nodded for her to continue, but his anxiousness to say his piece was making him highly antsy. He drummed his fingers on the table and shifted several times in his seat.

David stirred restlessly, as well. He pulled at his ear again and smiled faintly.

"Quite frankly, I do not believe all the Moslems, Jews, Buddhists, Catholics or whatever are condemned to some fiery inferno – Gehenna – just because they don't have the same beliefs. Wars are fought ... good people _murdered_ in the name of religion – and of Christianity!"

"Oh shit!" David hissed between his teeth.

"What did you say, Son?"

"Nothing, Dad. Just clearing my throat."

He gave David a dark look.

Helen saw it was time for her to intervene. "Please, dear, let's not spoil our meal. Jenny might not want to come back, if you make her feel too uncomfortable."

"Thanks, Mom," David said. It was about time.

John put forth both palms. "Sorry ... really ... if I have upset you? I _do_ tend to get carried away. What can I say? I love my profession. Maybe we can discuss this further some other time ... when we aren't eating?"

Jenny didn't comment, just offered a slight uneasy smile.

It was more than with great relief that David sighed. He quickly changed the subject to baseball, his dad's second favorite subject.

While Jenny and Helen did dishes, they talked. Jenny confessed to her own interest in art. She had been fairly talented as a child, but hadn't picked a brush up in ages. Helen coaxed her into free lessons on Thursday nights when John worked on Sunday morning sermons. Delighted to have a new friend and a new outlet, Jenny agreed. There would be no problems with Helen. Jenny liked her a lot.

John was a different story. He could be nice and he meant well. But he was still a Baptist preacher and, from what she had witnessed, a very determined one. He reminded her of a very stern UPC pastor she had once known, one she didn't care to meet again. John came in the kitchen with some small books in his hand and gave them to Jenny.

Helen shot him a disgruntled look. He ignored her.

"You read these, young lady. They should answer most, if not all, your questions about God."

Your version, she thought but didn't say so. "But ..."

"I won't take no for an answer."

"Dad," David said as he came out of the bathroom and down the hall, seeing the books being shoved on Jenny. "I thought we agreed that you weren't going to pressure her?"

"I am just giving her some books to read, Son. I hardly call that pressuring."

Jenny did not agree at all, but she didn't want to cause problems between David and his overly-zealous father. Sometimes sacrifices were in order to maintain peace. John wasn't going to be the one to make those sacrifices. "It is okay, David. I enjoy reading myself to sleep." She was certain the books would definitely do that ... put her to sleep.

John smiled with his usual confidence. He'd get through to this quiet girl. It was only a matter of time.

David pulled at his ear and looked very worried.

Jenny felt sorry for David. His discomfort with his father was so obvious. She sat the books down and gave him a hug. That seemed to ease his tension.

III

Jenny slipped into her cool bed and pulled the banana-yellow satin sheet up to her waist and opened the small green book on cults, glanced over a few pages, then, bored, tossed the book on her nightstand. Her eyelids were heavy. She switched her lamp off and settled into her feather pillow, fluffing it up on the ends.

Somewhere bordering consciousness and sleep, Jenny kept hearing the scripture, "My Father is greater than I." At the time she had read it, she hadn't thought too much about it. But it kept repeating in her mind like fragments of a melody refusing to subside. Too tired, she tried to shrug it off as nothing important. Then she slipped further into surreal depths.

Barely had she made the transition into slumber when the voices came. She flew through the air at tremendous speed, suddenly finding herself in Egypt at the foot of the Sphinx with its huge head and great paws.

Why am I here?

She moved again, across tall plains and through desert heat. In Greece she lingered long enough to gaze at some statues of a nude goddess.

After Greece, came Rome. Jenny floated over more statures. Were they of Venus? The goddess of love? What was all this? Understand, she did not. Whatever power it was that was taking her on this strange trek whisked her away again. She was inside a beautiful mosque, then a Catholic cathedral. Where? She wasn't certain.

Now, smiling down at her was the serene face of the Virgin Mary. The statue quickened and spoke, "It is out of great love for you ..."

Before the statue's sentence was completed, Jenny found herself standing at the peak of an oppressive dark-red mountain. Black, stifling smoke and red plumes and yellow tongues of fire slapped at her face. There was a deep drop, an ominous pit, a seemingly fathomless canyon. She could make out little for the rolling smoke. Pitiful cries of torment and despair cut through the churning blackness. Burned and charred hands reached up to her. _"Have pity!_ _Save us!"_ She jerked back in shock and terror; her own hands flew to her face. What was this horrible place?

There was no time to ponder. Now, she stood in an aisle of the library back home. Before her were Bibles, dictionaries, encyclopedias, religious literature of all kinds. A voice spoke, "Here you may find some of your answers."

She plunged into deep sleep.

When she became aware again there was a pulsating light. Brilliant crimson chased away darkness. She was in the middle of the spiraling whirlwind of undulating light.

The tow-headed man formed.

"No!" The red began to fade into a pale-blue glow surrounded by a faint yellow halo. Fully materialized, the man moved in on her. "My sweet Jenny ..."

She was suspended in mid-air facing him. They were engulfed in brilliant aqua blue. He smiled warmly and cupped her chin in his hands. "Soon," he promised, "very soon. You will have the answers to your questions."

"But ... who _are_ you?"

His was a patient smile. "I have many names."

"What names might I know you by?"

"A name is not important ... a mere title. However, mankind does not see it that way. If I tell you who I am, you will attach far too much importance to it and confuse my real reasons for being here.

" It _is_ urgent, though, that you find your answers. You must learn them for yourself. Now, I must go."

"Wait! Please!" She noticed tiny, flickering orbs, lights of many different colors, darting around and about them.

"I am never far away." He smiled a reassuring smile and kissed her, just as real as the first kiss had been. Then ... he was gone.

She realized she was fully awake and staring into the vanishing darkness of her room that was giving away to the morning light. It was five-fifteen. She didn't have to look at her clock. She went to the kitchen for warm milk.

David would never believe it. There was no need in bothering him with a frantic call. It was time to stop worrying and take action. The first thing after work in the afternoon, she would make a trip to the city library.

Unseen by her, a remaining pale blue light about the size of a quarter hovered over her head briefly, then darted out of the kitchen.

She shook her head, not understanding any of what was going on.

"Positive you're not in the mood for pizza tonight?" David asked. He'd finished counting the stack of ones and laid it in the safe. He shut the door and spun the lock, wishing it was up higher so he wouldn't have to stoop down.

"Not tonight. Thank you," Jenny said. "Think I'll do a little reading."

He stood and straightened his back. He was all too aware he was out of shape. Maybe it was time to start lifting weights again. "Don't tell me you're really going to read those books my dad gave you?"

"No." She plopped heavily onto the wooden chair just inside the office door. "Going to the library."

"Oh?" He stepped up to the window and cashed a check for a young attractive black lady. "Any special reason?" still speaking to Jenny.

"Not really," she lied and wondered why she had. "Want something different to tire my eyes on."

The black woman stuffed her cash in her wallet and left. David faced Jenny. "But not as _different_ as my dad gave you. Right?"

"Right." She peered up at him like an unsure child over a fence. "Hope you're not disappointed. Are you?"

"Course not." But he was. He really wanted to be with her. Now, he was afraid his dad had succeeded in scaring her off. "I ... I hope my father isn't responsible for you not wanting to enjoy a delicious pizza with me tonight?" He had this sudden need of reassurance.

"Oh ... No! David. Please don't think that. There are some history books I want to look into." She neglected to tell him that she meant ancient history.

"Wouldn't want company, would you?"

She cocked her head to one side. "I had no idea that you'd want to go."

"You'd rather I didn't. Right?"

"I didn't say that, David." His feelings were going to be hurt if she said no. "I really don't mind at all if you want to come along. I warn you, though. It could be boring."

His face lit up as though sunshine had just come upon a very cloudy day. "I won't be bored. Maybe I can find myself something interesting to read, as well."

"But ... on one condition," she added.

He was afraid to ask. "What's that?"

"That you do not question me about any of the books I might check out or anything I might look up on the internet."

He shrugged. "That's a strange request. But ... okay. If that's the condition?"

"That is the condition. It's settled, then."

"Sure you don't want pizza first?"

She sighed heavily. "Positive. Maybe later, after the library."

"Fair enough. I'll pick you up around a quarter of six. I want to dash home and get out of this suit, first."

She stood and moved to the door. "It will give me time to change, as well."

Gloria approached, chewing her gum like a Guernsey chewing her cud.

"Here is your favorite employee," Jenny said and sniggered.

"Shit!" he said, hissing through his teeth. Whatever it was Gloria had to complain about, he knew to dread. She skirted by Jenny and bounced into the office, her boobs bouncing under her white blouse. "What is it this time?" he asked.

Jenny paused, a grin on her face, to listen for a moment.

"You know that box of flour sacks you wanted me to put on aisle four?"

"Yeah," he cautiously replied. "What about it?"

"Seems I must have cut the box too deep with my knife and opened up all the sacks."

"Well ... tape them!"

She grimaced. "That's not all."

He moaned. "What else?"

"It was sitting on top of another box. I accidentally knocked it off ..."

"Don't tell me," he said, trying hard to be patient. "Let me guess. There's flour all over the aisle. Am I right?"

She smacked her gum loudly, as though to emphasize his statement. "Yeah. That's right."

"Oh _why_ am I cursed with this ding-a-ling," he muttered to himself. "Then – go clean it up!"

Her eyes were saucers. "Yes, Sir! Yes, Sir!" Off she went, getting away from his rising fury as fast as she could.

"My cue to leave," Jenny said and cackled all the way back to her register.

David decided to browse in the science fiction section while Jenny headed for religious books.

She selected several mythologies, two theology encyclopedias, three Bible dictionaries and two books on witchcraft. She wasn't really sure why she chose the last two. It was as though something compelled her to do so.

David waited for Jenny at the checkout desk. His eyes widened when he saw the witchcraft books. He kept his word, though, and didn't question her.

Jenny thanked David when they arrived at her apartment.

"For what?"

"Well ... the meat lover's pizza, for one. But most of all for keeping your promise."

He flashed a bright smile and kissed her forehead. "I have to admit I _am_ very curious."

She returned his display of affection with a kiss on his cheek. "Too bad. Then, to his surprise, she said goodnight and hurried inside, practically shutting the door in his face.

"Well ..." he said with his chin hanging loose. He stared at the door in utter disbelief. He could not fathom that she had actually shut the door on him. He just stood there; feeling very much the fool, then sighed in bewilderment, turned and ambled to his truck.

What was Jenny up to? He knew if his dad found out about the witchcraft books he would be over to Jenny's performing an exorcism. Those dreams she said she had -- were they the reason she had checked out the books? Maybe he should have taken her a bit more seriously? Maybe he should tell his dad? But that might not be good. It could easily blow her trust away. He had worked too hard to gain that trust. No. He wouldn't say anything ... yet.

Jenny went to her art lesson Thursday, kept her movie date with David Friday, but she was distant. When David asked if she was enjoying her books, she gave him a look that could peel lemons and changed the subject.

If he had not been so stuck on her, he would have let her go. She was under his skin. Three layers deep. And he couldn't quit thinking about her. He tossed the western he was trying to read aside. It was Saturday night and he was alone in his apartment. He had worked until nine. It would have been nice to catch a late movie or go bowling ... anything. He hadn't bothered to ask Jenny, afraid she would say no.

He gathered up a bag of pretzels and a cold glass of milk from the kitchen. He wasn't the least bit hungry. He was stuffing his face from sheer boredom and loneliness. If it weren't for his stupid hang-up on Jenny Logan, he would be out on a hot date someplace having a good time. No ... He had to get dumb and fall for a strange girl like her.

Jenny's books were scattered across her kitchen table and across her desk in the living room in front of her computer; she was busy taking notes from the books, having exhausted anything she could think of to look up on the internet. Some of her dreams were making sense, though. She was surprised by the numerous goddesses in ancient history: Diana of the Romans; Isis of the Egyptians; Hecte, Artemis, Ishtar, Asherah, and many, many more. The majority were depicted as nude, pregnant and surrounded by doves and serpents.

Were these goddesses the same as the ones in her dreams? Could the serpents be connected with the serpent in the Garden of Eden?

David couldn't bear it any longer. He tossed his pretzels aside, picked up his cell phone and called Jenny.

"Darn!" Jenny reached for her phone. "Hello?"

"Jenny?"

"David ...Thought it might be you."

"Don't sound so disappointed. I'm lonely. So, I called. Hope it's okay?"

She discerned a definite note of frustration on the other end. "Sure. It's okay, David. What's up?"

"I'm lonely. Don't suppose I could come over?"

She really wanted to say no but thought better of it, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anger him. "Sure. Come on over." She hadn't been too kind to him lately. It almost surprised her that he wanted to see her.

"Be there in five minutes."

IV

At Jenny's front door, David had an overwhelming desire to grab her and kiss her passionately. That is exactly what he did. Jenny was surprised by his sudden aggressiveness and had a pleasant and amused smirk when they broke their embrace.

"There," he said. "I've been aching to do that for a very long time. I finally coughed up the courage."

She laughed lightly. "I thought I was the shy one. However, you strike me as a bit shy at times, too."

"I was hesitant. Afraid I'd scare you off."

"Come now. I am not that bashful!"

He grinned. "You're not?"

"No!"

"Damn! You're beautiful when your ire is ruffled."

"That's a new way of putting it," she said and smiled vaguely.

He chuckled.

"I'll get us something to drink. Would you like a cola? Pepsi? Or Coke?"

"I don't care. Either one will do." He followed her with his eyes on her lovely, graceful form past her desk and computer with all the books askew, and then into the kitchen where more books were piled in heaps all over the table. He couldn't resist the temptation to skim over her notes on the top page of her notebook. "You certainly have a lot on goddesses," he observed.

"Oh ... Really ...You think so?"

He brushed off the bridge of his nose with the knuckle of his forefinger. "Any particular reason?"

"Come now, David. You don't want me to bore you with all of that, do you? Didn't you come over to spend time with me?"

"Of course.... Do you realize we are answering questions with more questions?"

She laughed a short laugh.

"Yes. To answer your last question. But, I am interested in you as a whole, complete person."

"You have your beliefs, David. I totally and completely respect that. What you feel ... what is right for you, isn't necessarily what I feel is right for me. If you must know? I am doing some theological research. I want to find my own answers about God and creation."

"And I respect that. I can also understand your reluctance to discuss this."

"David ..."

"Whatever you are doing here," he interrupted, "I really do not blame you for feeling the way you do. I _do_ care about you. _Very much._ I sincerely desire to understand.

"Who knows, maybe I can be so some assistance in helping you find some of your answers. I promise not to lecture." He was pleading. He meant to. "Who knows ... maybe you're right. Please, don't shut me out of any part of your life."

"Okay ... Since you feel that strongly. You are pretty convincing, you know." She understood at that moment that he couldn't be more sincere.

"I do feel that strongly, Jenny. Whatever is important to you is important to me. Obviously, this _is_ highly important to you."

She handed him a can of Coke and took a Pepsi for herself, then joined him at the table. "Very."

"Mind if I look at your notes and see what you have so far?"

"Go ahead," she said, snapping her can open. "But don't ask me what I am looking for, because I am not really certain."

"How will you know, then?"

"I just will."

He sipped on his Coke and placed the can on the table. "How can you be sure?"

She sighed, obviously annoyed. "Sometimes you can be exasperating!"

"Sorry," he winced.

"Because _He_ said I would! That's why, David."

He was quiet for a moment. Apparently, he had pushed her too far. He mused over her answer for a few minutes, and then said, "You mean the man in your dreams?"

"Yes!" She answered with impatience showing.

He winced again, apologetically.

"You said you wanted to understand me?"

"I _do_ , Jenny!" Her mood was contagious, not what he wanted. "Please bear with me? Some of this is difficult for me to digest. But I am trying."

She put out a hand and her face softened. "I am being unreasonably curt. I'm sorry I snapped. You don't have to digest any of this."

He exhaled with frustration. "Thanks. I've never seen you so friggin' hostile." He was making a great effort to calm down. He took her hand. "Please don't be angry. Be patient. Okay? I'm just trying to ascertain what is what. Bear with me?" He let go of her hand.

"Okay." She mustered a slow but broad smile, stood and went to his side and gave him a big hug. "I am sorry, too. I will try harder." She sat back down in her chair.

He considered and scanned over her notes while she observed him with guarded scrutiny, still wondering if she should be letting him in on her quest. He finished and laid the notes down on the table.

"Well, there certainly are things here that I have to admit I did not know."

"There is a lot more research I want to do ... in books and on the internet. There is just so much!"

"That could take a very, very long time, Jenny."

"I guess time isn't a factor here. It doesn't matter. I have to know."

"You know what we need?" he asked, making sure he was included in the project.

She raised a brow at his self-inclusion. "What?"

"A really good reference Bible. And I know just the place to get one."

"There are Bibles of all kinds on the internet, reference and otherwise, David."

"I know ... but I think this would be better."

"Let me guess. Your dad. Right?"

"Right." He drained the rest of his cola, squashed the can in his hands and laid it on the table. "Of course, he is going to wonder what for."

"Simply tell him the truth. We are doing some Bible studying together. It won't be a lie."

He sucked in air and exhaled rapidly. "Tomorrow ... after church. I'll pay him a visit. He might even have some other books we could find useful, that could be helpful."

"Why that would be terrific, David. Seems like a very good idea," she was making an effort to sound appreciative.

"Save the thanks for later. You may change your mind."

In her mind she questioned what he meant by that. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know. He was more than likely referring to his father. At this particular moment in time, she didn't want to think about him or deal with him.

"What can I do for you this fine afternoon, Son?" John asked as David trailed behind into the study. "You were quiet after church. Everything kosher between you and Jenny?"

"Everything's fine, Dad." He moved over to his dad's small library of theological books and some others. The shelves filled the entire south side of the room. He studied over the titles, hoping to find something illuminating.

John observed quietly, his interest intently stolen, and he wondered why David was going over his collection as though he were seeing the books for the very first time. "Something I can assist you with?"

"Ah ... yes. As a matter of fact, you certainly can. I don't suppose I could borrow a couple of your really good reference Bibles?"

John leaned back in his brown leather chair and crossed his legs over the top of his desk. "Wasn't my sermon stimulating enough this morning?"

"Huh?" David spun around.

With a broad smile, John waved a hand in the air for his son to continue his search. "I meant that as a little joke, Son."

David nodded and turned back to the bookshelf. "Oh ... okay."

"Of course, you may borrow my books anytime you like. Anything besides reference Bibles that might interest you?"

"It's not for me ... exactly, Dad." David felt guilty, as though he were a traitor of some kind. But he was searching for the truth. Why should a person have guilt feelings about something like that? It remained, though, that he did. "Jenny and I are doing some Bible research and study. Thought your reference Bible could help us."

Obviously delighted with the news, John grinned broadly, removed his legs from the desk and sat forward in his chair. "Great! Take all the books you need."

David was all too aware what his dad was thinking, that Jenny had come to her senses and wanted to do real Christian Bible studying. Reason for another guilt trip.

He smiled and thanked his dad, loaded his arms down with as many books as he could carry at one time and left.

Jenny was a little more than surprised when she saw David standing at her doorstep loaded down with so many books. She stepped aside, telling him she'd better learn something from all of those.

David let the books topple out of his arms and down onto the sofa, announcing that he had three reference Bibles, two more dictionaries, and a study on the teachings of Jesus and one on the Talmud, which he explained was from the Jews. And there was a book on ancient Egypt. He told her to take her pick and handed her a list of web-sites his dad had given him to look into.

"You are going to help me with all of this, aren't you? At least, look up stuff on the computer?"

He chuckled from deep in his throat, catching her attention. He sounded more masculine than she was accustomed to. She thought it sexy.

"Of course, I am." He pulled her into his arms. How he loved the little dancing lights in her sea-green eyes and the sheen of her chestnut hair. And that perfume! It made his pulse race.

She smiled inquisitively.

He kissed her forehead softly. You have no idea how fond of you I am."

"I kind of like you, too."

"Really?" There was an element of surprise and hope in his voice.

She answered him with an assuring kiss.

Neither noticed a small blue orb of flickering light in the far corner by the stereo. It hovered quietly, observing the loving couple intently.

David pulled away from her, knowing that if he didn't he'd be heading her for the bedroom very soon. He felt it was too early in their relationship for that.

More importantly, his strict religious background always played havoc with his conscience when he did take a girl to bed. And Jenny was too special to him. He wanted to make sure it was absolutely right when the time did come. "I think we'd better dig into those books," he said and kissed the tip of her dainty nose. "We have an awful lot of research and reading to do. I'll get on the computer, first. If that's okay by you?"

She nodded that it was. "I'll clear the table and make us some snacks and drinks."

"Sounds great."

They read for several hours and came up with little they felt could help their quest—whatever that was. David was definitely not sure. They seemed to be getting nowhere and not very fast.

Jenny laid aside the reference Bible she'd thumbed through and picked up one of the library books on witchcraft. She read through a few pages, then spoke, "David ..."

He looked over from where he sat at the computer. "Yeah?"

"Think I've found something. Might not be anything. But listen ... anyway."

"All ears here."

"Do you recall a story in Acts where they speak of the goddess Diana?"

"You're referring to when Saint Paul was there?"

"Did you know that modern witches ... guess they call themselves Wiccans ... worship her? Some of them, anyway."

"No. I didn't know that. I know zilch about witches and really don't care to. Not exactly my favorite subject. Or, as my dad would say ... my cup of tea."

"There's something else. It says Lucifer is her husband _and_ her son."

He asked her if she thought it was the same Lucifer as in the Bible. She thought it was. He decided to look it up on the internet. But he couldn't find anything that remotely satisfied his curiosity and logged off. He grabbed a dictionary and joined Jenny at the table.

She spoke, "Says here that the name is used only once in the Bible in Isaiah, the Fourteenth chapter. It is specifically referring to the king of Babylon. Also says that because Jesus made reference to having seen Satan fall it was assumed he was speaking of Lucifer. However, it also says this is erroneous." She shrugged. "That there are no solid grounds for that assumption."

"No kidding?" He leaned back in his chair. "Well ... that is a new one on me. All my life I have believed that Lucifer and Satan are one and the same entity. Now, this book is telling us it is all a big mistake? That is very hard for me to swallow, Jenny."

For some reason Jenny wasn't certain of, she wasn't nearly as surprised as he. "Don't take one book's word for it, David. Look in another."

He did. "Says approximately the same thing. Also, in the footnote, it mentions that in some religions it is believed that Satan and Jesus are twins!" He was reeling, feeling suddenly sick ... unglued through and through. His whole concept of life, religion and who God was was being shaken like an 8.5 earthquake. He was pallid and perspiring. His hands trembled noticeably. "David ... are you okay?"

Jenny," his voice revealed his anguish, "do you mind terribly if we call it a day? To be perfectly honest, all this is really getting to me."

"Okay."

"I need time. Lots of time, before I can digest anymore."

She observed him with compassion, imagining what all this sudden new knowledge was doing to his lifetime of faith. "Sure, David. I can easily see why all of this would be upsetting to you. It would have me too ... at one time."

"I almost envy you," he said, clutching his stomach, and his face turning red.

"Why?"

"You are obviously ready for this stuff. You aren't as dependent on years of belief or conditioning ... maybe ... as I am."

Truly feeling moved and deeply sorry for him, she nodded in the affirmative.

"I feel like some native in a forgotten land who believed for years the world was flat. Now, someone comes along and proves to me it isn't flat after all – Frankly, it scares me to death!"

"Don't you see? I am scared, too. Don't you think my dreams frighten me? I am growing accustomed to them, now. But they absolutely terrified me, at first."

He was bending over, clutching his belly, but he straightened up and stood tall. "Yes ... I suppose they would. I can't help wondering how much else we are kept in the dark about. What the truth really is? I have been in church all my life. I don't know anything else. I always believed we were right and everyone else was wrong. Now, I just don't know."

"If you want to quit for today, it is fine. It's almost supper time, anyway. We both have work tomorrow.... Would you like a roast beef sandwich?" She had a feeling he would say no. And he did.

"Thanks ... but no thanks. I couldn't eat right now, if I was starving." He kissed her on the cheek and left quickly.

David was the one having trouble sleeping. He didn't know how many times he had tried, unsuccessfully, to close his eyes and drift off.

He thought, if Lucifer isn't Satan, then who is he? How was he referred to in Isaiah? Son of the morning? The dictionary said something about the shining one. _"Dammit!_ Dad! Why haven't you questioned all this before? Did you not know?"

He pulled himself out of bed, rummaged around in his desk drawer and found his dictionary. It told him that Lucifer was the planet Venus when it was the morning star. Venus was also the Roman goddess of love. His hands shook. This was too much! He was jumping to all kinds of crazy conclusions.

Twins?

"No ... No!" Angrily, he threw the book against the wall. It made a loud thud as it hit and fell to the floor. "What the _hell_ am I doing? God! Father! Please forgive me!" He went to the refrigerator and just stared inside, as though expecting it to give him some answers. Realizing he must have been there for five minutes or more, he wondered why he was there. There was a half gallon of chocolate milk, a dozen brown eggs, as they were his favorite, a head of lettuce that was wilting in a clear plastic bag on the bottom shelf and a package of sliced ham for sandwiches. "God! I am coming apart!" He sighed heavily and purposely inhaled and exhaled slowly and forcefully for several minutes to calm himself down.

"Pull yourself together. You know you're not ever going to be the same again ... no matter how much you want to be. You have to learn the truth, if it takes you forever.

He finally took out the chocolate milk and poured himself a tall glass full, leaned back against the cool appliance and sipped on the rich liquid. Although it was February he was sweating profusely. Nothing had ever upset him to such a degree, to such a level of – for lack of a better word – panic.

It was as though his soul was going through some kind of metamorphosis. If only he could hash it over with his dad. But his dad wouldn't listen ... not to what he had to say. His dad would disown him first. Just when he needed his father the most, he feared it was the one thing he couldn't go to him with.

A hot tear rolled down his five-O'clock-shadow. "Jesus!" he prayed aloud. "Help me! Please help me! I'm drowning in anxiety and confusion here."

Just making it through the morning was more than a chore for David. It was sheer drudgery. He was more than aware that Jenny was glancing over at him every chance she could. At this particular moment in time, he had very mixed feelings about her. On one hand, he was in love with her, and on the other, she was directly responsible for shattering what he had once believed to be an indestructible faith.

When they finally did come face to face in the coffee room, he had no choice but to speak to her. She was looking very hurt. There was no way he could avoid her anymore.

"Jenny?" He joined her at the little break table. "I don't want you to think I don't want to talk to you or see you. It is just that I am a little ... shit! More than a little ... very upset! Over," he gesticulated, "this whole damn religion thing! And I can't believe that I am actually using profanity!"

"It is obvious you are upset," she said, near tears. "I am sorry I involved you in this."

It occurred to him that she had a way of making him feel like a heel. "No ... don't be sorry. This is something you have to do. Unfortunately, now I have to, also." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "We'll work this out. I want to help you, and I can't do that unless I pull myself together, can I?"

"No."

"I did have one hell of a night." He realized he was swearing again. Did it really matter?

"I thought you looked a little heavy around the eyes. I didn't sleep well, either." She didn't tell him she'd heard the voices again, that _He_ had come to her. "Guess we'll be worn out together."

"Yes." He squeezed her hand again. "Whatever happens, we're in it together." He released her hand. "I'd better get back to work. Been really goofing off today. Can't afford that, not if I want to remain manager."

"I'd better get back, too."

At first, Jenny thought something was haywire with her register: digits went black, and then flashed on and off, winking. Then, suddenly, cans toppled from shelves to her right, and the floor shivered and shook beneath her feet, giving her the sensation of walking on a waterbed.

"Earthquake!" a masculine voice shouted. Customers screamed and frantically scattered in all directions, leaving baskets to roll every which way.

Gloria was at her register on Jenny's left. Her machine shifted from its foundation, rocked and crashed to the floor, change rolled everywhere. Electric sparks spit from the plug. She let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Unplug the blasted thing!" Jenny said.

But Gloria was frozen to the spot, swaying back and forth with the rolling floor, hands to her face, and just staring at the bright blue and yellow flashes.

Supporting herself along the counter, Jenny reached Gloria and snapped the cord from the wall plug. There was terrible banging and thudding as an entire aisle of canned goods fell to the floor, sending cans rolling every direction conceivable.

David rushed out of his office to assist Jenny and Gloria over to the clear wall by the entrance. The dog food had long been removed, and the Coke machine transferred to the back of the store.

The floor moaned and creaked; several tiles cracked and split and broke open. Fleeing customers did their best to hop over them on their mad, frenzied rush to safety through the glass doors. Outside, cars and trucks slid, careened and crashed into one another. Terrified pedestrians scrambled and jumped to get out of harm's way. All the sea gulls and pigeons that normally frequented the parking lot, took flight in wild and panicked flocks.

One more violent, lunging shake sent three more aisles tumbling and merchandise splayed in all directions. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

After a few seconds, Gloria opened heavily painted eyes and looked around cautiously. "Has it stopped?"

"I ... I think so," David replied, breathing in a deep and thankful they-were-still-alive sigh.

"I believe Texas City just experienced its first major earthquake," Jenny commented, sounding unbelievably nonchalant.

"Damn right! It was an earthquake," Gloria said. "I used to live in Fontana, California. That's why I was so scared. I have a real phobia of earthquakes. It is the main reason I moved to Texas. Thought I would be safe here...." she laughed sardonically. "Guess I was wrong on that one."

"We do have hurricanes here," David reminded her.

"And now it seems earthquakes, too," Jenny added.

The earthquake dominated the evening news. The Prudential building in Galveston had crumbled. So far, forty people dead, and they weren't through digging. Houston lost several skyscrapers; injuries and deaths steadily mounted. Intercontinental Airport reported heavy damage to planes, and Terminal A was completely demolished. A major fire raged in Pasadena. Homes were still being evacuated.

Jenny and David sat Indian fashion, legs bent at the knees and crossed underneath them, on the ocher carpet watching television with the Millers.

"According to the earlier news," John said, "Texas City got it really light. Guess we should be thankful to the Lord that it wasn't a lot worse here."

"Amen to that," Helen chimed in. "But have you seen Sixth Street? Completely cracked down the median, all the way from Nineteenth to Texas Avenue."

"Sure did," Jenny replied. "Everything's an awful mess. I'm surprised the television stations are on the air."

"It is a wonder," Helen agreed. "A lot of phones out as well. We still have our line and my cell was off, but it is on now. Are yours still working, Jenny?"

"Home phone was when I got in from work. I tried to call Mom. I think she must have been out. I didn't get an answer. And she should have been home. Cell is okay, too, now."

"Do you know if she's all right?"

"Yes. Thanks for your concern. I spoke with a friend of hers. She saw her right after the quake, rummaging around in her backyard. I guess she was trying to salvage what she could of her pottery.... She collects pottery from all over the globe: Mexico, India, Greece, Saudi Arabia, places like that. It is a lifetime hobby of hers. She must be okay. Knowing my mother, that is exactly what she would be doing."

"I am glad she is all right." Helen said. "You know, the damage is just as bad, if not worse, than it was when hurricane Alicia hit years back. Then, we were out of phones for months. And we didn't have all these cell phones."

Barely detectable at first, the house trembled. The rocking chair in the corner rocked by itself. Disturbed glances were quickly shared. "Not again!" Jenny yelled.

David threw his arms around his girl. "It's an aftershock."

The painting of Jesus came loose from the wall and fell on the sofa, barely missing the back of John's head. He jumped up and grabbed Helen into his arms.

Then it was over.

Everything was quiet and still. After a few minutes they all breathed a guarded sigh of relief.

"And Gloria thinks she has a phobia!" Jenny exclaimed. "I am growing a major one."

David kissed her forehead and pushed back a strand of hair from her face. "Hopefully, that's the last shaking of much magnitude."

John re-hung the painting. "Jesus is the last person I would have ever expected to clobber me," he said, trying to make light of things.

"Just goes to show that no one ever knows what's in store," Helen said.

It wasn't the kind of remark Helen usually made. It threw John a little. It almost sounded as though she was trying to tell him something. But he had no idea what. He kept silent, not wanting to probe in front of David and Jenny.

Helen hadn't told anyone about the strange feeling she'd had for weeks ... that something big ... really big ... was about to happen. The earthquake was only the beginning. She was sure of that. She wasn't about to tell John, though. He didn't believe in premonitions. He would only tell her that she was either crazy or possessed. David could be more understanding, if she was to tell him, but she didn't want to say anything, yet. After all, she reasoned, an earthquake could happen anywhere.

David broke her chain of thought by asking his dad if the fire at Marathon Oil had been contained or put out. John replied that he didn't know for sure, but the last report he'd heard was that is was under control. More were sizzling elsewhere, though.

"Did you know about them?"

"No."

"Haven't heard anymore on those, either. I guess they must be contained, at least." He glanced at Jenny, then back to his son and changed the subject. "You are going to help me clear away that old pecan tree from across the walk, aren't you?"

"You know I will, Dad."

"I realize you've got your hands full getting the store back into shape, but perhaps we can get to the tree tomorrow evening."

"Fine with me."

"Jenny can have coffee with me while the two of you do some real labor for a change," Helena said in a joking manner.

Jenny smiled faintly. "I'd love to have coffee with you."

David took Jenny home early. Both were exhausted and in dire need of rest from all the excitement. There was plenty of work cut out for them at the store in the morning; so much so that David didn't even want to think about it. A steaming-hot shower for his aching bones would be good, though. He wondered if he could stay awake long enough for that.

V

Jenny selected one of the Bible dictionaries and settled down in her bed and propped up on two fluffy pillows. She would just browse through the books and see if there was anything interesting, but it was difficult to concentrate; her thoughts kept wandering to those blue eyes and that haunting smile. Returning to her book in her hands, she learned that Melchizedek was the priest-king of Salem, and some scholars believed he blessed Abraham by the Baal whom he served as "God Most High".

The more Jenny read, the more confused she became. Why was _He_ doing this to her? She had to ask herself why she was even bothering. She pulled herself out of bed and flung the book aside. It landed pages open and down. She knew she shouldn't treat a book in such a manner, but at this particular moment, she didn't really care. She poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, took a few long sips to calm herself down, then picked up her cell phone to call David. It wasn't real late. She figured he'd still be awake.

David listened intently to what she had to say. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then asked her if she would consider that maybe she was reading too much into it all.

She, rather rudely, reminded him of how upset he had been at first and told him she was positive she wasn't reading too much into it. She said she'd show him when he came over.

"So ..." he said, trying to overlook her rudeness, acknowledging the fact that it was due to all this new and equally upsetting information, "you really do think there's more? I know," he said before she could interpolate. "That's probably an idiotic question. Thought I'd ask it anyway."

"Yes! I feel it inside. I know it!"

"I have to help Dad move that felled tree tomorrow, after work. But when we get through, maybe we will have a while to go over what you have found. Have to admit it is interesting, even if it is disturbing. I am reaching the point where nothing surprises me anymore – For them to imply that Baal and ... and ... well _God_ have any relationship.... Well, it is just terrible!"

"I haven't the background you have. Yet, I can't even begin to understand why so much has been held back from us. It makes it all a lie!"

That hit a nerve with David. He had a facial cringe. "Not everything, Jenny," he snapped.

She paused for a moment, realizing what an impact her words must have had on him. "Oh ... David. I am sorry. It was not my intention to offend you," she quickly apologized.

It was in his nature. She apologized. He had to forgive her. "It's okay, Jenny. I know I have been super-sensitive about all this -- too much emotional adjusting and processing. By the way, I didn't tell you. But I came across some things on Lucifer."

"Yes. You have my attention. What?"

"Don't really think I want to go into it on the phone. But it upset me one hell of a lot. I'm okay, though. It is still hard for me not to think of him as Satan. I am still not so sure that is right."

"Since I really don't know, I have to confess that I am not so sure, either."

"I am not so certain there's not a connection between what you have found and Lucifer, but I will tell you about it later."

"Okay."

He told her he wanted to get some sleep. She said she hoped he could. They said their goodbyes and she switched off her lamp and slipped down into her cool sheets, falling asleep almost instantly.

Once more the voices came, echoing Jenny's name through the night. The murmurings no longer frightened her. They grew familiar instead, almost friendly. In the distance she could hear strange chanting, a recitation of some ancient Latin hymn. She seemed to be flying at the speed of light and was instantly whisked away again to a foreign land. She was in ancient Jerusalem by some strange wall or gate. Women there were dressed in robes and long shawls over their heads, and they were crying bitterly. An unseen male spoke to her: "They are crying for Tammuz."

"Who the frig is Tammuz?" she heard herself say.

"A dying god," answered the voice. "The husband of Ishtar. The women will not mourn long. Tammuz will rise again in the spring when Ishtar journeys to the underworld to rescue him."

"You mean he will be brought back to the world of the living?"

"That is correct. Some, if not all of your books will tell you that they have proven he is not one of the reviving gods. But they are wrong. _He is!"_ Before she could question any of it, she was back home. She opened her eyes briefly before sinking into a deep sleep.

David found little resistance in falling asleep, and he slept well for several hours. Around midnight, things began to happen: Jenny was in front of him, and she was dressed strangely, adorned in a long flowing robe of pure black. There were no buttons or zippers on the robe that he could see. It wrapped around from the back and came over her shoulder, fastened in place by some kind of silver buckle. Her chestnut hair fell loosely over her back and neck, and on her head she wore a wreath of bright red flowers. What kind? He didn't know. But they weren't roses. He called out to her. She seemed not to hear.

It was night. They were outside and at the base of a high hill. Jenny went gracefully ahead of him, pressing onward to the top. Waiting for her was an insultingly handsome man with bronze complexion and flaxen hair. When the man looked straight on at Jenny, David could see his extremely captivating blue eyes. And the man wore a spotted animal skin, probably leopard. He reached out long sinewy arms, and Jenny reached out towards him.

David called out to her again, fearing he was losing her to this man. She did not answer.

The moon and stars shone with extra brilliance, seeming to concentrate their light on the couple. A band of maidens, all dressed in robes like Jenny's, only vivid red, took hands and formed a circle around Jenny and the man.

David called out again. Still, there was no response.

The young women, skipping in a rhythmic beat, danced in clockwise motion around the couple.

"Jenny!" David screamed. Either she didn't hear – or – she didn't want to. Frightened beyond anything he had ever imagined, David wondered aloud, "Who is this man? Why is Jenny so enthralled with him?" His pulse raced, frustration mounted. He ran towards them, panting, breathless. It seemed the faster he ran, the further they drifted away.

Suddenly, they were gone. Poof! Vanished like a wisp of smoke into the night. In their place, all was dark. A black cloud rolled across the imposing darkness. The once white moon and her sister stars dimmed and faded from view.

A violent wind slammed in, nearly knocking David over. Lightning flashed wildly in jagged streaks around him.

"Jenny!" He, at last, made it to the crest of the hill where the wind whipped his face mercilessly. She was nowhere to be seen. Once more, he screamed her name, "Jenny!" The lonely wail of his voice was broken only by the wind.

It was over.

David woke in a cold sweat, and he wasn't even relieved when he realized he'd been dreaming. It had been too real ... much, much too real.

Sweet exotic music played from an ancient flute and drifted into the room. Jenny thought she was dreaming, but she opened her eyes and realized she was fully awake. The haunting music grew louder. Had she left the stereo or television on? She tossed back her covers and went to get up – then stopped _. A bright vortex of light was at the foot of_ _her bed!_ "Oh my God!" she gasped, spellbound and too terrified to move.

Along with the music was an oddly pleasant scent, and, at the same time, it stirred some vague, faint memory in her soul. The vortex created a strong breeze and caused her hair to billow. Almost without thinking she reached up and pushed her hair away from her face. The whirling glow slowed and took solid form. She sucked in air, thinking of running, but she was too hypnotized by what was taking place. Her mind refused to believe this was all real. But it was!

There was no doubt, now, as to whom or what the light was becoming – It was the man in her dreams! Though he still glowed, he was fully formed. He wore a spotted skin from some animal, perhaps a large cat, and a heavy chain with a silver, inverted star, a pentacle, hung around his neck.

His deep-set ice-blue eyes were brilliant, and the smile on his face, alluring. He was the most masculine, exquisitely-sensual man she had ever seen.

His golden brown skin was the picture of absolute health; and his high cheekbones, perfect nose and full lips, only added to the awesome splendor of his magnificent forehead. He was literally beautiful – the most beautiful creature, human or otherwise, she had had ever laid eyes on. He was even more stunning than in her dreams.

"Hello ... Jenny," his voice was deep but soft and smooth, even.

She made an attempt to speak. The words just refused to come out.

He seemed amused and smiled hugely. "Cat got your tongue?"

She finally managed, "I am dreaming, aren't I?"

Obviously tickled by her reaction, he said, "No, Jenny. I promise you that you are not."

Her knees weakened; she was thankful that she wasn't standing. Otherwise, she was certain they would buckle right under her. But you _are_ the man in my dreams?"

"Not ordinary dreams, my sweet. Visions. Visions that I have been sending you."

"Why?" Her eyes fell to his muscular arms. He was so powerful, but he wasn't overly developed or ugly the way some mere were. He appeared to be as graceful as he was mighty. He was so poised, like a ballet dancer, so elegant, in spite of his animal skin attire. One would think he was royalty.

"So you could become accustomed to me before I made myself fully known to you. If I hadn't, I might have terrified you."

She swallowed a huge lump in her throat. "I am terrified!"

Slowly, he started around the bed towards her. His sensual smile transformed into a fetching grin when she yanked the sheets back up to cover herself. "I am not here to harm you."

"Please don't come any closer." There was a quiver in her voice. She felt so helpless.

"You don't mind my being close in your visions."

"But they were ... "She suddenly realized how silly she sounded.

"I told you that you weren't actually dreaming." He stood beside her, towering over her. The air shimmered with bluish-white, a corona of light around him.

He even smelled perfect, like mountain air on a fresh spring morning. It was then she noticed a red cord tied around his waist. From the cord, hung a highly-polished silver flute at his side, a panpipe.

" _You_ were playing the music," she said, gazing up into resplendent eyes.

"And ... did you like it?"

"Yes ... I did. It was very different ... haunting." What am I doing? She thought. I am speaking to him as though he were human. She could tell by the minute alteration of light in those brilliant ice-blue eyes that he knew what she was thinking. "What are you?"

He gave her no response, but he kept smiling with obvious amusement down at her. His left cheek twitched almost imperceptibly, as though responding to some hidden, secret thought.

" _Who_ are you then?"

"I have not, as yet, ascertained that you are ready to know who I am."

"At least tell me what you want with me. I've been studying and researching all the things you told me to."

Still, he gave her no answer.

"I feel pretty sure that I've learned a few things, though. How about you? What do you think? Am I on the right track?"

He reached long fingers out to her chin. "My ... but you _are_ an inquisitive little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled softly. "Yes. You are on the ... as you say ... right track." Deep dimples in his cheeks became apparent when he smiled. "However there are many things you may never find the answers to. There are some who do not wish for the complete truth to be revealed ... as yet."

She didn't dare ask who the "some" were that he was referring to. She reached up and tentatively pushed his fingers away, noticing only a slight resistance. Her action only seemed to amuse him.

He continued, "However, there are many things you will find the answers to and, likewise, things you will never find the answers to."

"What's the purpose in it all?" She found that she was having great difficulty in ignoring his smug grin. It was annoying and captivating, which in turn, made it all the more annoying.

"I have been most patient for a very, very long time. I am weary of living in the shadows, my sweet."

"Would you, at least, tell me one thing?"

"And ... what might that be?" He touched her chin with his fingers again. And she pushed them away, with more vigor this time. He chuckled lightly.

She had the distinct feeling that he already knew what she was going to ask. "Are you some kind of ... god?"

The deep dimples appeared again as he smiled hugely and laughed aloud. "Ah! My sweet, Jenny. I cannot tell you that. I will tell you this much. I am not a mere mortal as you."

"... Are you an angel?"

He made no response, but his beautiful eyes danced with silent laughter.

Now, she _was_ irritated. "Well ... would you say that Jesus is the son of God?"

"Now that one was a bit off the wall, don't you think?" He wriggled a finger in her face. "Tisk ... tisk." The laughter quickly faded from his wonderful eyes, and his expression darkened and grew much more serious. "What do you believe?"

"That He _is!"_ At least, he didn't refer to me as sweet, she thought. "What does Melchizedek have to do with anything?" she asked, changing the subject slightly.

"Other than the fact that he was a high priest of the Canaanites ... and Abraham paid the first tithes to him, I cannot tell you."

"So," she breathed, "that much is true. Is there anything else you can tell me about him? What significance there could be in all this? What does he have to do with Jesus?"

"Read Hebrews. That should give you some strong hints."

"I have. What else is there?"

"There are ... rules. Rules even I cannot break. I am answering all that I can."

She found his response strange and quizzical. "Oh?"

He reached as though to touch her chin. She pushed his hand away. Then he grabbed hers. "Come. Get out of bed."

"Why?"

He shook his head slowly as his full lips parted in a half-smile. "Questions ... questions ... you ask too many."

His grip was firm but gentle, and she knew she wasn't going to win. She finally gave in and did as he requested.

"That is more like it, my sweet. I do not relish having to look so far down at you."

She felt so small as she faced him. "What could you possibly want with me?"

His eyes laughed again and danced with undulating shades of brilliant blue. But he didn't answer her question.

"Why me? I want to know. Why have you chosen me ... for whatever it is you want?" He was so very close, disturbingly so. She was uneasy. Yet, he was exciting to be near. She was all tingly.

"Because," his voice deepened but ever so softly, "I love you, Jenny."

" _What?"_ She stepped back a few inches.

"And because you are a virgin."

" _Oh shit!"_

Steady and strong was his gaze. She felt as though she could ... would ... melt right into his arms. Only, she didn't even know who he was. Let alone, what. From all appearances he looked like a man – the perfect man. But, she was all too aware he was not human.

The scent of him, the fresh wild smell of silver pine and sage, of wet wood, immediately aroused visions of tropical rain forests, sufficient to drive her hopelessly mad. Now, as he held her in his arms of iron, he was everything that could possibly come under the heading of masculinity -- male through and through. She swallowed hard and tried to rid herself of the enormous lump in her throat. She was almost afraid to ask, "What does my being a virgin have to do with anything?"

"Strange you should ask," he said teasing. His eyes blazed with promises of unexplored passions. "Everything, Jenny." He slipped his fingers gently through her long hair and watched her dark tresses fall softly to her shoulders. Their eyes locked.

"Everything?"

"You are a very rare woman. You have no idea how rare." He carefully traced the curves of her mouth with his fingertips. "The fact that you are a virgin is most important."

She gulped; throat tight, afraid she would surely lose her virginity in the next minute, if she didn't do or say something fast. "I ... I have a boyfriend," she blurted. "His name is David."

The mention of David's name obviously annoyed him. "Yes! I know all about your ... boyfriend." He said the name as though it left a bad taste in his mouth.

She felt stupid. "Guess you would." She tried to look away from those hypnotic eyes, but he took her chin and made her look. "What I was going to say is ... David and I are very close. I may not be a virgin much ..."

" _No!"_ His eyes flared instant anger. "He must not touch you!"

"Why? What difference could it possibly make to you?" She really did not believe what he had said about his loving her.

His jaw tightened and quivered. "You will ruin everything, if you let him touch you."

"Ruin what? Frankly, I do not understand. I think you need to fill me in on a little more information about what is going on here."

His nostrils flared. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Okay ... In time."

She was so close to confessing that she didn't want to be a virgin, but she was afraid he – whoever he was – would take that as a direct invitation to accommodate her. She thought better of confessing her feelings. He probably knew how she felt, anyway. But why take the chance and making it verbal. By the way their conversation was going, by the way he was acting, he obviously wanted her to save herself for him. The question was – why?

"David is not to touch you. Ever!"

"But?" Then suddenly with no warning, he vanished.

Had she been hallucinating? She surveyed her surroundings. She was still standing. There was that remaining scent. His scent. The magic of the moment was broken by the ringing of her cell phone. She sat heavily down on the edge of her bed and grabbed it off the nightstand and answered it.

"Jenny?" There was no concealing the anxiety in his voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, David." She switched on her lamp and looked at her clock. This time it was six a.m. not five-fifteen.

"I had this awful dream, honey. It scared me shitless." He was apologetic. "I am sorry, if I woke you. But, I had to know if you are okay. You are ... aren't you?"

Talk about ESP! "I think so. Yes. I am okay." Did she dare tell David about _Him?_ No. Not now. The timing was all wrong.

David was grateful and relieved. "Whew! I tell you. I have never had such a realistic dream. You would not believe how real.... You sure you are okay?" he asked again, needing to be totally convinced. There was still that little cobweb of doubt hanging in the air.

Wouldn't I? she thought. "David, I am okay. Believe it."

He blew out air. "Okay. If you say so. Must have been a nightmare. Hope I never have another one like that. Hey ... I am sorry, if I disturbed you?"

"It's okay. Really," she said patiently.

"Then I shall let you grab a few more winks. See you at work. Bye, honey."

"Bye." She stared at her phone briefly, then laid it down, switched her lamp off and stared into the darkness. Everything was so quiet, so still. She noticed a faint flickering glow over in a far corner. She couldn't help but wonder what it was. Then she decided she was simply hyped up and went to lie down again. But she thought she saw very tiny lights, consisting of all colors of the rainbow, sparkling and blinking on and off in what appeared to be a miniature dark cloud over by her closet door.

She squinted her eyes shut, then opened them again. She could still see them. "No! Now what?" Was He still watching her? She decided she didn't want to know and got up and turned on the lights and dressed for the day.

VI

Jenny sat with Helen on the front porch steps and watched John and David saw the largest limbs off the pecan tree. The weather was mildly warm, not unusual for southeast Texas in midwinter, warm enough that the women wore only sweaters instead of coats. The men, since they were working, didn't feel a need for even that much. David had worked up such a sweat that he removed his shirt and gave it over to Jenny for her to hold.

David did the sawing while his father held the branches steady. Although the chain saw made the work easier, it was still hard work, and David was glad they were on the last limb. When they finished with it, they had only the trunk left; then they would be able to hook it up to his pickup and drag it away.

Jenny watched intently as David labored, thinking that he was an attractive man in his own right. He wasn't noticeably tall. But he wasn't short, either. She guessed him to be about five-foot-ten. She was a little over five-seven. He had a fine build, stocky like his dad. His hair was slightly wavy and the color of chestnuts. Only, there was no way he could begin to compare with ... with _Him._ But was that fair? Was he a man? David was a mortal like she. But what was _He?_ Shit! She thought. Why can't I just forget about him?

Helen broke into Jenny's daydreaming. "Would you like some coffee?" the older woman blew a lock of hair from her soft eyes. "I just put on a fresh pot for the men. There's plenty for everyone."

"Sure. Would absolutely love some." She tagged behind Helen into the kitchen.

Helena took a white paper bag from the cabinet. "Had John buy us some fresh doughnuts from Shipley's before David picked you up. Thought they'd go real nice with our coffee."

"Wonderful! Doughnuts are one of my fondest passions." Oh why did I have to say that word? What is the matter with me? All I think about since last night is Him.

When Helen turned and faced Jenny straight on their was a brief quizzical look in her eyes. It was as though she knew something was going on with Jenny. Although in her late forties Helen was still a very attractive woman. She still wore her hair long, most of the time in a twist. But her bangs were too long and falling in her eyes. "Guess I should cut off this mess," she said, pushing her hair back. "John tells me I am too old to wear it long."

Figures he would say something like that, Jenny thought. "It becomes you. What do men know? Make yourself happy. Leave it the way it is."

"You really think I should?" She seemed tickled.

"Yes! If I look half as good as you when I am your age ... no offense meant ... I will consider myself very lucky."

"Why thank you!" Helen said and gave Jenny a quick hug.

"You're welcome."

"I am going to take that as a very nice compliment. And, I did not take offense. I know I am old enough to be your mother. After all, I am David's. And I think he might be a year or so older than you."

Jenny smiled. She was really getting to like Helen a lot. "I meant for you to take it as a compliment." She took a chocolate-covered doughnut with pastel sprinkles from the bag and sunk her teeth into its fresh softness, breaking off a big bite.

"I do intend to trim my bangs, though.... Here's your Java to go with that doughnut." Helen sat a cup of steaming coffee down in front of Jenny.

"These are _really_ fresh."

Helen joined Jenny at the table. "John said they had just taken them out of the oven when he got there. He was the first customer to get the fresh ones."

"Oh ... I believe it! They're scrumptious." Her eyes caught something interesting. "Is that a new painting of Jesus on the wall there? Have I seen it before and not noticed it?" It was on the wall above Helen.

"No. You haven't seen it. Had a little trouble going to sleep after you left last night. I pulled myself out of bed and finished it. Started it several months ago, and it was just sitting out in the garage gathering moisture and dust."

"Why did you wait so long to finish it? It is beautiful!"

"Simply wasn't in the mood. You know how we artists are," she said, blushing slightly and touching her fingertips to her chest, "we have to be in the 'mood'. As some would say, my muse must have left me for awhile, taken a little vacation. Other things took my interest. I simply put it aside.

"After the earthquake, though, I got to thinking. I, at least, wanted to finish it just in case...." Her voice trailed off, a moment of sadness surfacing. There was something heavy on her mind.

"In case of what?" Jenny took another bite of her doughnut. "Are you saying you think we'll have another earthquake?"

"That's just it. If not an earthquake ...then something of major magnitude. I haven't told John. He doesn't believe in certain things. But I've had this ... this ... awful foreboding ... this feeling of horrible dread for some time."

Helen had Jenny's undivided attention. "You have any idea why?"

"Oh ... I don't know," she said, rolling her eyes around and looking off in the direction of the living room. "Maybe that the world is about to end ... or something." She blew out air, then fished in the bag for a plain doughnut. "You do know that Los Angeles was hit by a major hurricane, don't you?"

Jenny nodded in the affirmative and swallowed the bite of doughnut in her mouth. She took a sip of coffee then answered, "I overheard some of my co-workers talking about it. Thousands injured, they said. But I haven't taken the time to watch the news. Guess I'm tired of all this disaster stuff. Guess everyone is. Trying to put it all out of my mind as much as I possibly can."

"The irony is ... it should have been the other way around. We should have had the hurricane and they should have had the earthquake."

"From what Gloria says, Hurricanes aren't all that uncommon in California, but they usually don't amount to very much, not like they do here.

"They ordinarily don't carry the wallop that they do in the Gulf of Mexico or Florida. What you are saying is true. It is all very odd."

"Well, they've never had one quite like this one." She sipped carefully on her hot coffee. The cup was so hot it was close to burning her lips. That was just how she liked it. She couldn't stand cold coffee. "It did a lot of damage. I tell you. I just know something even more terrible is about to happen, something much worse than what has already taken place."

Jenny had little difficulty believing Helen, especially with what was going on in her own life. She seriously doubted that she would ever confess her own paranormal experiences to Helen, though. It was all she could do to cope with them by herself. In fact, she wasn't even sure that that was what she was doing.

Possibly, she was just plain mad, as mad as the March Hare. She was Alice tumbling down that long dark tunnel.

At this very moment _His_ startling exquisiteness haunted her. She could actually smell that frightfully wild fresh scent of his. She just knew that if she took a deep breath he would be there.

"Jenny? Are you all right?" Helen asked." But Jenny seemed not to hear. Jenny? You look ... frightened. Chills are going up my spine. Jenny!"

"Huh?" Jenny looked at her but her thoughts were far away.

"Jenny! I have this foreboding feeling. Like an alarm. This feeling that someone just walked across my grave.... Jenny!" she said again, even louder. "Do you know something that I don't?" She went to stand. Jenny seemed still lost in thought.

"Oh! Oh ... Helen. I am sorry. I was listening to what you were saying. But I was thinking about something else, too."

"For a moment you really seemed frightened, Jenny. You scared me."

"I am sorry. I really am. I am okay. Promise. Just get carried away with my thoughts sometimes. It is nothing."

"What's nothing?" John asked as he whisked into the kitchen, wiping sweat from his brow with his T-shirt. David tagged behind him with his shirt in like manner.

"Like she said, John. Nothing," Helen answered. "You wouldn't be interested, anyway."

"Try me." He flung his shirt over the back of Helen's chair and poured himself coffee. He joined the women at the table. So did David, sitting by Jenny.

Jenny was surprised that John would actually sit at the table – for any reason – without his shirt. It struck her as being totally out of his character.

The lack of John's shirt didn't seem to bother Helen. She looked her husband straight in the eyes, answering his question, "If you must know, John, we were discussing the paranormal, psychic phenomena, things out of the ordinary."

"Hogwash!"

She flipped her palms up in the air. "See! I told you, Jenny."

"Why am I not surprised?" Jenny said quietly and smiled.

"I have told you a thousand times, Helen, that any and everything psychic comes from the devil."

Jenny flushed red with anger.

David being perspicacious grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, giving her emotional support. "Some people will disagree with you, Dad. In fact, quite a few."

"Well ..." John took a deep breath and blew out air before retorting, "Are all of you going to gang up on me now?" He shook his head apologetically and sighed. "Sorry. I shouldn't let my feelings get in the way."

"Dad, I was merely stating fact."

John answered, choosing his words more carefully, "If a person has genuine faith in Jesus Christ, nothing like psychic phenomena or the paranormal will ever bother them."

"You honestly consider that a fact?"

"Of course I do."

"What about the prophets?" Jenny blurted. "Weren't they just a wee bit psychic?"

"Not psychic, Jenny. In touch with God."

"There's a difference?"

"Certainly! The prophets were before the Lord came. After Jesus came there was no more need for prophesy."

"So ... the book of Acts is bullshit?" Jenny said, suddenly very defensive.

"Jenny!" David exclaimed.

"Acts?" John said.

"Yes! Acts. The second chapter, verses seventeen and eighteen: 'And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams; and on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit, and they shall prophesy."

John's jaw set tight, too surprised and off guard for an immediate response to that one.

It tickled David. "Dad ... I think she's got you." It was obvious that he was trying hard not to smile.

Helen gave John one of her rare stern looks. Something she did only when she meant business. "I think she has a point."

John sighed and picked up a doughnut. "Well ... I can see you have been reading those Bibles I loaned you." He forced a smile, but there was still a trace of indignation in his face. "However, I still persist in saying that there is no need for psychic experience now. All you need is to be saved through faith in Jesus Christ."

David released Jenny's hand and laid his arm around her shoulders. She was trembling. "None of us are denying that, Dad. But, you can't believe some of the scriptures and ignore the others."

"True. I couldn't agree more. But it is how one interprets them, Son. You can't take them out of context, either. You have to read all before and after to get the whole picture. And I feel I am a bit more qualified than anyone else here to voice my opinions on that."

"John, no one here is trying to challenge your qualifications." Helen said. "We are simply saying – in spite of Baptist doctrine ... and that is just what it is ... we think you are a bit narrow-minded about some things."

John's jaw dropped. He was speechless. He couldn't believe his wife had said what she had. Never had she disputed or questioned him before, not in front of others.

"Stubborn is the true definition, Mom," David said, and he could no longer hold back a big grin. He squeezed Jenny affectionately and smiled at her sideways.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, David Miller. You too, Helen."

"Yes, Dad," David replied, but his grin grew larger. In fact, his cheeks ached.

"I say you are all wrong!"

Jenny had no desire to argue anymore. She decided to change the subject and ask John if he knew anything about mythology or any of the ancient religions.

He proudly boasted that he had studied all religions and mythologies.

She was thinking of the mysterious man. She had a strange and desperate need to know, to learn anything she could about _Him_. She asked John if he knew of any mythological gods that might have carried and played a flute.

His eyes held hers for a long moment, wheels obviously turning in his head. He leaned back in his chair, tipping it up on its back legs. "Yes! As a matter of fact, I do."

"Wait!" David interrupted. "I can answer that one."

"Then feel free to do so, Son."

Jenny anxiously turned her gaze to David. "Who?"

"I remember. We studied it in high school."

"Just tell me!"

"You want to know about the god with the flute. Right?'

"Dah! Yes!"

"Something I came across the other day reminded me." He gave Jenny a side glance, not wanting his father to know exactly what some of their recent studies had been about. "Anyway, it brought it back to my memory.

"This god had several names ... depending on what country one lived in. There was Lupercus of ancient Rome. Sometimes he was referred to as Faunus: the god of nature, pastures, animals, things likes that. There was the Greek god, Pan. Guess you could say he is the best known."

John drained the last of his coffee from his cup and placed the cup on the table. "Why don't you call him by his true name, Son?"

Anxiously, Jenny turned her attention to John. "What is that?"

"Why ... Satan. Of course!"

"Satan?" She sat back in her chair. She had a sudden wave of nausea. "Did you say Satan?" Surely there was another flute-playing god.

"Dad, you don't know that," David said, remembering everything he had recently read. But he couldn't tell his dad where he was coming from.

"Yes I do!" John stated firmly. "He's the god of witches. You'd know that too, if you studied religion ... really studied the way I have."

Jenny was sick, sick with a new and strange kind of fear, alien to her spiritual being. "Are you sure?"

Jenny was as pale as Helen's vanilla pudding. David asked, "Hey! You okay?"

Her hands shook visibly and she spilled her coffee all over her lap. She could feel its wet warmth oozing down her jean legs, trickling down to her white sport socks...

Helena wasted no time in grabbing a wash cloth. "Let me help you, Jenny."

Jenny prayed silently to God that the mysterious man was not Satan. "Please!" she said aloud. "Please!"

"Honey, what's wrong?" David took his girl in his arms. A few short minutes before she had been perfectly fine. Now, she was quivering like a frightened school girl.

Jenny rubbed her aching brow, thinking her head would surely split open at any second. "I'll be okay. I will."

She could almost see his magnificent stature looming over her, as he had in the early hours of that very morning, almost feel his wonderful muscles of iron around her. God! Oh ... God! _And she had wanted to be close to him!_ And they had been ...so close they were kissing! "Oh ... God!" Her stomach surged. She was going to vomit. She grasped her stomach with both hands and bent over. Definitely going to be sick.

Helen hurried back with paper towels and a wet cloth. She took one look at Jenny and hurried her to the bathroom where Jenny let loose. Helen ran to get Jenny a clean blouse. She didn't have any clean jeans that would fit. But the blouse was the most needed, anyway.

John rubbed his cheek and chin with his fingers. He fronted David. "Son, what do you know about this?"

David shrugged. He was equally as puzzled as his father. "Honestly, Dad. I don't know what is wrong with her."

"Could there be a connection here to her interest in mythology?"

David frowned. "Come on, Dad! You don't honestly think that is why she's so sick? Do you?" He studied the consternation in his father's face. "You do."

"Well ... don't you? Think about it, Son. Obviously, she was fine until I told her Pan was Satan. You saw her ... what happened. She turned plaster pale. There is a reason for all this. If you know anything at all, Son ... you'd better fess up."

"Don't go trying to tell me she's possessed. I don't really believe that stuff." He really wanted to say crap, but thought better of it.

"If you care about her, you'd better start believing in something." John poured himself more coffee, though he was still mopping his brow with his T-shirt. "There's no denying she's very upset."

"Or she could just be very sick. It is obvious something is wrong."

"You find out which it is – I am betting on the Pan theory – and when you do, you tell me. You hear?"

Their attention was drawn to Helen assisting Jenny down the hall. "David, I am afraid Jenny isn't feeling well at all. You better drive her home."

Jenny mumbled something about having a really bad case of stomach flu, which brought a raised eyebrow from John.

"You sure it's the flu?"

"Dad!" David retorted. "Not _now!"_ He went to Jenny. "Sure. I'll take you home."

John moved over to them. It was written in his face. He didn't buy for one second that Jenny was suffering from any physical malady. "David, just don't you forget what I told you."

David answered with irritation. "I won't! Sometimes you just don't have a clue when to quit. You know that?" He took Jenny on out to his truck.

John stood in the living room watching them drive away. "That young lady is in real trouble," he said to Helen, who was now standing beside him, looking a bit irritated with him, as well.

"What are you talking about? She is just sick to her stomach."

"And I thought _you_ were the one who put so much stock in the paranormal, ESP and things like that? No. I wish it was only a virus."

"John ... you're not serious?" she chided.

He looked at her darkly. He wasn't batting an eye.

"My gosh! You _are!"_ She slowly moved into the kitchen, looking a bit lost.

"Never been more serious, Helen," he said, following her. "I just hope David can learn ... exactly ... what lies at the bottom of all this, so we can actually help Jenny."

"Ohhh ... my!" The irritation had left her face and turned into an expression of fear. She eased down into the chair at the end of the table. She really needed to think.

It was David's intention to stay with Jenny for a while and make certain she was going to be okay, but Jenny insisted that all she needed was a good steaming bath and a good night's rest. She promised to phone if she did need or require anything at all. Reluctantly, he left, hoping his dad was overreacting.

Jenny didn't want to think – too numb. Her insides churned and growled and seemed to be tied into thousands of tiny knots. Both hands firmly on her abdomen, applying slight pressure to relieve her discomfort somewhat, she made her way to the bathroom and turned the hot water on full blast. Slowly she peeled her clothes off and let them slip to the floor; then, testing the water with her big toe, she decided it was just right and eased down into the rising steam and soothing liquid and laid her head back, letting her arms float, hoping to clear her boggled mind of all and everything. Peace. Precious peace was all she wanted.

And everything was tranquil for a short time; she almost drifted off to sleep. Then, suddenly, _His_ face popped clearly into her mind's eye.

He was so handsome, so ...shit! She bolted forward to a sitting position. She was going crazy. Enough of the hot bath. If anything, it was reducing any resistance she might have, which, at this moment, seemed to be very little.

She slipped into her silky, scarlet negligee and stepped up to the mirror and washbasin to brush her teeth. Tentative fingers flew to her cheeks. She was pale as a ghost! The brilliant red of her negligee enhanced her paleness. She pinched her cheeks, bringing back momentarily some of her rosy color, but not for long. It swiftly faded. She stood back and observed herself: she had a nice figure and some might even tell her she had a pretty face. But no one had ever made love to her.

She sat her toothbrush aside and picked up her hairbrush. She brushed her hair straight down, letting it hang loose over her thin shoulders. Just as she retired the brush to the counter, the house phone rang.

Jenny's mother greeted with a breathless, "Thank God you're alive!"

"That I am, Mother."

"If it hadn't been for Edna telling me she spoke with you after the earthquake, I would have been beyond hysteria."

Jenny did feel immensely guilty. There was no excuse. And, she knew if she had been herself, she would have been frantic to contact her mother. "Mom, what can I say? I am _so sorry._ I did try to call you the one time. I take it Edna told you?"

"She did."

"I really haven't been myself at all. I know that I should have come by or something. I have no excuse other than I have been seeing a lot of David recently."

"Your boss?" The hurt left her voice and turned to excitement. "The good-looking guy with the soft-brown hair?"

"He would be the one. But don't breathe a word to anyone. We're not supposed to be dating. Company frowns on it, you know."

"I've always thought rules like that to be a bit stupid."

"I am certain there are good reasons for such rules, Mom."

"Well ...you know I won't say a word to anyone. I don't get around or see any of your friends, anyway."

"I really don't have many friends."

"You have some."

It was as though someone dropped a tent of guilt over Jenny. She loved her mother. And there was no excuse for the way she had neglecter her lately.

She knew her mother would be thrilled if she knew about David's father. "You will have to meet David's folks, Mom. They are really very nice. In fact, his father is a Baptist preacher."

"A pastor! Wonderful! Maybe there is hope for my little girl, after all."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, Jenny. Not for the little girl part, though."

"I didn't say I was going to marry David. Right now, he is just a boyfriend. And I don't believe David or his father have much of a chance of converting me to their way or thinking, either."

"Jennifer ... don't burst my bubble so quickly. I want to have the delusion of hope."

"Mom, I am still suffering from the disappointment of my first marriage. I want to be absolutely certain the next one, if there is another one, is absolutely right. Besides. David has to ask me first."

"I am sure he will," she said in an almost irritatingly positive tone. "Just give him time – and if he asks you to church – go!"

"Already been there and done that."

"And you're just now telling me? Goodness! Two good things at once. I don't know if I can handle it. Better I get off the phone, now, before I wake up and realize that I have been dreaming."

"Mom!"

"I am teasing, Jenny. Okay?"

"Okay!"

"I do love you. Please don't wait so long to call, especially after something as dreadful as that earthquake. You have a cell phone, a house phone and email. You have no excuse."

"I promise I will do better. I love you, too."

"Bye."

Jenny bid her mother goodbye and switched her lamp off. She hoped to get a good night's sleep without any "disturbances". She knew she was probably deluding herself to think that she might get some real rest, but she was determined to give it a real try. That is, if she could quit thinking about _Him._

VII

"Are you coming to bed anytime soon, John?" Helen droned sleepily as she slipped down under the rose satin sheet.

"Not yet. Think I'll spend some time in my study. Want to look up a few things."

" ... Work on your sermon for Wednesday night," she assumed.

"No. I have that. Just want to do a little research. I'll be to bed in a while. Don't wait up for me, though."

"Don't worry. I won't. Just turn out the light for me."

"Glad to. Sleep well."

She yawned heavily and mumbled for him to not stay up too late. By the time he had the light out she was asleep.

John was glad the book on Greek mythology was not among the books his son had borrowed. He took if from the top shelf, dusted if off with the cuff of his shirt and thumbed through the pages and looked up Pan. He was disappointed; the book told him nothing but what he already knew, although he had forgotten Pan had made his flute from the woman who had rejected his love.

John felt that that part was definitely myth. He shook his head. After having similar luck in a few more books, he gave up and went off to bed.

Hard as he tried, David could not erase the memory of the dream he had had the night before, nor the ego-shattering man with the brilliant blue eyes. And who were all those young women dancing around them?

Should he tell his father about the dream? He was torn with indecision; he paced back and forth in his room, not knowing what to do. At last, unable to stand it any longer, he took his cell phone from his shirt pocket and called his parents' house.

John had his key out, ready to lock up his study and call it a night when the phone on his desk rang. Slipping the key back in his pocket, he rushed in by the second ring and answered the phone with his other hand.

"Dad! There's something bothering me," David blurted without even bothering to say hello."

"Out with it, Son."

"I know you don't believe in or put too much stock in dreams and all that kind of thing, but you said for me to tell you anything about Jenny that I can."

John sat down on the edge of his desk. "Go ahead. Tell me."

David told his father about how real and frightening the dream had been, about how he had called out to and tried to reach Jenny, but she had not heard him. He had been so desperate to get to her, but the harder he tried, the further away she fled, seeming to see and hear only the mysterious man. Something was terribly wrong. He knew it.

"You're right, Son. I don't put too much thought into dreams, normally. But there could be something here. Jenny has truly been behaving strangely.

"This was no ordinary dream, Dad. Otherwise, you know I wouldn't bother you with it."

"Well, let's go over it again. Don't leave out any details."

David did just that, then went on to say, "This may sound weird, but he was the most perfect man, in every sense I can think of, that I have ever seen. He was actually ... for lack of a better word ... beautiful. But there wasn't anything sissy about him.

On the contrary, he appeared as strong, make that powerful, as he was good-looking. He was _perfect!_ You would have to see him to know what I mean. No woman ever had that kind of beauty. He could probably put Cleopatra to shame."

John scratched the thinning spot on the crown of his head. "Beautiful, huh?"

"Yes. Am I nuts? Or what? And I've never been so frightened, so completely terrified of anyone in my entire life. I know I must surely sound crazy as the March Hare to you, but I am telling you this guy was _beautiful!"_ David could almost see the wheels turning in his father's head. He was doing some heavy thinking.

"You saw the reaction she had when she learned that Pan and Satan are one and the same. Now, you're telling me about this dream with this beautiful man taking Jenny away. I am not the smartest man in the world, but I feel I know my theology fairly well. I know this is wild. But ..."

"What?"

"What I am about to say is gong to sound equally as crazy. You're not without company here. If you will remember? Satan is the most beautiful being in all of God's creation ... perfect in _every_ way, according to scripture."

David blew out air. "That I do remember, Dad. I was just afraid to say it."

"Think about it, David."

"Yes. A person always thinks of him as having pointed elfin ears, a tail and horns, all those things. I had forgotten about his physical perfection until I had that dream. But I hadn't admitted it to myself until you said it just now."

John twisted and stretched his neck and shoulders, trying to get the kinks out that were settling in. "Most people picture him as Pan, the way he is depicted in mythology."

"I admit that I do most of the time, with the exception of the times when I read over the passages in the Bible."

"Since Jenny asked about Pan before, and especially since she became so upset, I think there just may be a wild chance your dream really does have meaning."

"There's something else."

John slipped his reading glasses out of his pocket, adjusted them and said, "Now it is coming out. I had a gut feeling there was more."

"Thought you didn't believe in those things?" David quipped dryly. "Sorry," he quickly said, not wanting to rile his dad. "Jenny has been haunted by a lot of strange dreams, as well. She told me about his man, Dad. I have the craziest feeling he could be the same man in my dream. I really did not want to believe it. Not at first. Now ... well ... I do."

"How long has she been having them?'

"She said they began about two years ago, accelerating in frequency only recently."

"So, you've known about this for a while?"

"Just since we started dating." Something told David he should have mentioned it before now.

John removed his glasses and carefully placed them on his desk. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I really do wish you had informed me of this sooner."

"I realize that I should have. Until now, I really didn't think much about it.... Besides, Dad, it never would have occurred to me that I could even discuss something like this with you."

"You could have a point there. But you might be surprised. I am not as hard-boiled as you might think, Son. Granted, most ESP things I do brush off. However this appears to be a serious matter. Even someone as stubborn as I can appreciate that."

David was almost afraid to ask. He really knew the answer, anyway. "Do you think she's in real danger?"

"That is hard to say, Son. It could be all mental. But I don't believe it is. She doesn't act like someone who is mentally ill. She seems to be perfectly normal, otherwise. Of course, I am no psychiatrist, but I would say she's scared, not ill."

"Dad ... I know I've always teased you about thinking people are possessed when they behave a little strangely. Maybe I have been hasty in judging you. You know, I've always been in kind of awe of you. Perhaps a little intimidated at times. Sometimes I get defensive about that. I can't seem to help myself. Now, I am finding myself eating my own words and desperately needing your honest opinion.... Could Jenny be possessed?"

John nodded as though his son was in the room and thought about David's statement for a moment. "Judge not, Son. And, it never occurred to me that you could find me intimidating, now. Maybe when you were a kid. To get to your question, though. I don't believe Jenny is possessed. I believe she is scared. I think that is putting it mildly. Scared out of her mind, would be more accurate. Terrified. As insane as it sounds, maybe some evil being ... perhaps Satan himself ... could be after her for some, God-only- knows-what-for, reason. If this _is_ the case, we need to do whatever we can to help her."

"Dad?"

"What?"

"I owe you a big apology. I really did not believe you could be this understanding."

"Son, I saw the fear in her eyes. It was too real, enough to convince anyone, even a mule-headed old preacher-man like me."

David smiled at his dad's referral to himself. "You're not an 'old preacher-man'."

John sniggered at that. "Thanks for that. But I am stubborn." He moved to his chair. "I would suggest that you stay with her as close as you can and as much as possible."

"What if she won't let me?"

"I think she will. And, you do know that I am not suggesting you stay in her apartment," he emphasized with a stern brow, as though David were in the room. "But you might hang out in your pickup, outside the building. Just a suggestion, of course."

"You think it's that urgent?" David couldn't believe this was his dad speaking.

"What have we just been saying here? Yes! I have this gut-feeling that we shouldn't take any chances. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am. _Don't leave her_ _alone!"_

David held the phone out and stared at it. His father was _really_ worried. Maybe even more worried than he. His skin began to crawl. If his father was scared ...?

"David?"

He put the phone back to his ear. "Yeah? I'm still here. Guess I'll be camping out in my truck for a while."

John told him to call immediately if anything else came up. He added that he would be praying for the both of them. David thanked him and they said their goodbyes.

Jenny lay in the dark with her eyes wide open. She had tried to sleep. It just wouldn't come. Although it was February, it was hot and stuffy. She left her bed long enough to change the air conditioner over from fan to its coldest setting. Nothing else seemed to help. She shut her eyes and concentrated on the steady hum of the air conditioner, waiting and hoping that would lull her to sleep. Perhaps when the room cooled down she could.

Some time passed. Jenny was uncertain how long, only that she had been in a supine position for so long that she almost felt paralyzed. She made a considerable effort and found that she could move and rolled to her left side and tried again for sleep. That was when that unmistakable male voice whispered: "Jenny ..."

"Go away!" She snatched the sheet over her head.

That didn't work, as she really knew it wouldn't. He whispered again, and then the soft harmonics of his flute followed.

" _Please!"_ She threw back her sheet. The room was still wrapped in darkness, save for the light from the sign across the way spilling across the foot of her bed. The melody grew louder and sweeter, Peruvian, having a calming, hypnotic effect. _He_ was coming! "Shit!"

Those wonderful herbal scents grew more intense by each second, flitting her to some aromatic, exotic garden, awakening newness: a baby opening her eyes for the first time. Pine, spices, wild flowers and the sense of fresh dew in her nostrils had whisked her into a paradise of sensations. Part of her wanted to flee, but she wanted – ached -- to see _Him_. What was he doing to her? Warmth surged to her breasts and through her limbs. This intense desire was ever bit as frightening as the fear of who he might be. "Jesus," she susurrated. Her prayer went unanswered.

Although he hadn't materialized, she could sense his presence in the room. A weight came to the end of her bed by her feet. And in a spider web, cloud-like darkness, barely visible, danced what seemed to be thousands of tiny little twinkling lights of all colors of the spectrum. He had sat down.

She blurted that she knew he was there and that she knew that he was Satan. The music stopped. He materialized.

He was no longer wearing the leopard skin. Instead, he wore a simple loincloth of leather which barely covered him. But the pentacle was still around his neck. It glistened even in the darkness of the room, as did his flaxen hair. His eyes shown vividly. He was more handsome and more striking than ever.

She was spellbound!

"That preacher told you that, didn't he?'

"You know he did. So why do you bother to ask?"

"I don't always know everything everyone does right away. Sometimes I'm ... other places."

"Well, that means you're not omnipresent," she said smugly.

"Basically, that is what I just said." Her sarcasm seemed to amuse him. He smiled hugely. "My sweet, sweet, Jenny, I never claimed to be otherwise."

"I am not _your_ Jenny."

He chuckled lightly and began to play his flute again, all the while, staring at her keenly with provocative blue eyes.

Why does he look so good? She thought. He's damn near naked! Not helping one bit. He must know what he is doing to me. "You haven't answered my question. You _are_ Satan, aren't you?"

Again he put his flute down. "I do not wish to reveal my identity to you. If you want to believe that Satan is who I am ... then ... by all means ... do so."

She allowed herself to scrutinize him for a moment. For some reason, she wasn't quite as afraid of him as she had been previously. She didn't understand, but the realization came to her suddenly, as though the fog had parted just a little. She sensed he did have some vulnerability. "You're afraid to tell me, aren't you?"

He was still amused. "Now, why would I be afraid, my sweet?"

"If you weren't apprehensive about something, you would tell me."

He nodded. "Good point. Why is it so important for you to know?"

"It's not just who. _What? What are you?"_

The mischievous light in his opal eyes intensified. "You're young, pretty and intelligent. Who do _you_ think I am?"

"Other than what I have read, I haven't the foggiest idea. I don't know.... Pan? Perhaps?"

He grinned broadly and picked up his flute. "Perhaps." Sweet, mournful music came forth. He studied her with his captivating eyes.

"Would you please stop playing that thing?"

"All right." He set it aside. "What would you like me to do?"

The way he was looking at her made her feel as though she were under a microscope. Definitely, there was an insinuation in his question. "You can go back to wherever it is you came from and leave me alone."

"Ah! But ... my sweet, I still want you to find some answers for me. We are not finished. It is important you understand. I do not wish to tell you who I am until you do."

At least, she thought, he isn't grinning like the Cheshire anymore. "Why is it so important? Who am I? What makes me the target of all this? I have the distinct feeling that you are just trying to confuse me. That this is all some kind of stupid game with you. You want to mess with my mind so I won't ever know what to think or believe.

"My entire future depends on you, my sweet," he said without blinking, holding her gaze.

She scoffed. "You've _got_ to be kidding. I am a mere mortal. You're some kind ... well ... you aren't human. Surely, you don't need me."

"Ah!" He held up a forefinger as though he were a professor making a point in class. "But you are mistaken. I _do_ need you. Very much. Without you, I will be finished."

The laughter that had been in his brilliant eyes took on a sudden change to sadness, sadness to the depths she had never seen on a human face.

She was so taken back by it, it touched her deeply. "You really aren't kidding, are you?'

There was a long pause, then he said, "Jenny, I need you _. I love you!"_

Her moment of incredible empathy was shattered. Wait! Suddenly, she was more than incredulous. "Why would you love me?"

"Even immortals such as I, have feelings and desires. Think about it. Your Christian God admits to jealously." Despair was still in his face.

She had read that in the Bible somewhere. She just couldn't remember where. Did she dare believe him? Weaken again? Was he telling the truth? "When you say you love me, what kind of love are you referring to? There is more than one kind, you know."

David hadn't meant to fall asleep. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and sat up straight. There was a funny glow coming from Jenny's bedroom. "Jenny!"

"Ah! It matters to you that I said that I love you." _His_ eyes grew brighter.

"I didn't say that. You are putting words in my mouth."

He stood and moved over to her. "I like your gown," he said, the sadness having left his face. He surveyed her from her head to her toes and back again, now grinning.

The negligee! She had forgotten about having it on. She had bought it right after she and Tom were married, hoping it would help their – his – problem.

It had been no help whatsoever. But, _He_ wasn't having any difficulties, judging from the bulge under his loin cloth. She flushed. "Oh shit!"

His euphonic chuckle thrilled her in ways she did not want. He took her chin in his fingertips and gazed intensely into her eyes. "You are a very, very attractive woman, Jenny."

Deeply, she witnessed into a soul that wasn't human, the depth of which he held her mystified. He was so overwhelming. So ... yes ... beautiful! He slipped powerful arms around her and pulled her close, so close she could feel his manhood. Being so near him took her breath away. Their lips brushed. Something in her moaned.

"Sweet Jenny," he whispered.

As she gazed into their resplendence, his enthralling eyes held her captive, all too aware that if she looked for very long, she would be totally lost in their marvelous wonder. For they promised to take her places unknown, to realities she could never dream of. She was a prisoner of his will.

"I _do_ love you," he insisted.

A strange and overpowering desire was taking hold fast. Full lips found hers, warm moist, hungry lips. She was all too aware of his manhood. Excitement surged through her like an electric current. She trembled from his magnetism, and he kissed her fiercely. She could only respond, as she was on fire with longing for him. Feverishly, she returned his kisses.

But they were suddenly interrupted by a banging at the door to her apartment. "Jenny!" David called out frantically. "Jenny! Are you okay?"

_His_ eyes still blazed with passion, but he slowly pulled away from her. "Your ... boyfriend is here."

Never before had she felt this way. Everything about him aroused the female in her. She did not want him to leave. _Not now!_ She knew she had to be with him.

He knew her thoughts. "Don't worry, my sweet." He brushed ardent lips promisingly across hers. "I _will_ be back." Then, to her very heated frustration, he dissipated to a fine mist for a few seconds and disappeared.

"Jenny!" David's voice was loud and clear to her now. He was still pounding at the door.

She stood there staring down at her trembling hands. What was _He_ doing to her? She sucked in air. She was totally coming apart. No. She was losing herself. She wasn't sure who she was anymore.

"Jenny!"

She gasped, shivered and cleared her throat. David ... David! Yes! He was at the door. "I'm coming," she said at last. She slipped into her robe and hurried to answer. "What's the matter?" She tried hard to sound normal, though she was far from it. "What are you doing here?" She said, stepping aside motioning for him to enter.

He anxiously scanned the living room and ran to her bedroom and seemed to be looking for something. "I ... I thought I saw a light coming from up here." He appeared puzzled.

"What are you talking about, David? I was asleep," she lied, amazed at how easy it had been for her. "What are you doing here? Are you spying on me? If you are ..." She was going to say that it isn't necessary. But she saw how confused he was and thought better of it. He was a wreck. And it was all because of her.

"I was worried, Jenny. I admit this is appearing a bit weird. I decided to sleep in my truck, here in front of your apartment." He half-flinched and half-grinned, uncertain as to how she was going to react. He had never done anything quite like this before. "I'm not stalking you, if that is what you're thinking?"

Jenny was trying very hard not to let her passion muddle her judgment. Under any other circumstances, she would have been deeply touched, but this time was one time she wished David had not come to her rescue. And she knew that that was insane in itself. "If I didn't know you better I might think you were."

He shrugged and looked apologetically sheepish.

She was making sincere effort to be patient with him, realizing that if she showed anger, he might guess something else was going on. And, he was her friend. He was truly concerned for her well-being. "Since you are here, would you like some coffee?"

"Coffee?" he said, thinking about it briefly. "No."

He really felt like an idiot barging in on her while she was sleeping. But he knew he had seen a light, a weird glow. He was positive of that. Or was he? Could it have been some kind of strange reflection from the moon? Or the sign from across the street? He was bewildered.

"You're sure you don't want that coffee?" She knew that if she weren't feeling so ... so ... warm, so sexually aroused, so frustrated by the thwarted moment, she would be sorry for David. He appeared terribly perplexed.

Nervously, he brushed a wisp of hair away from his eyes. "I really don't need any coffee. Guess I am overreacting to everything. Hey ... sorry I work you."

"David, it's okay. Really," she assured him, but inside she was exploding with unsatisfied desire – desire only for _Him._

Still, as much as she ached for and wanted him, she was horribly frightened of whom he might be and of the tremendous effect he was having on her reasoning. She wondered: What's happening to me? What is he doing to me?

David took her long silence as a clue to leave. "I'll go back to my truck to sleep."

"Why are you sleeping out there? You can't get any rest in a pickup."  
"I was just worried about you," he said, looking sheepish.

She understood he was truly concerned for her safety, that he had enough reason to be worried about her. Otherwise, she would have been upset with him. In some ways, she was glad he was there, even if he did interrupt the most amazing moment in her life. Yet, something within her knew that it might have been the best thing he could have done for her, without him ever realizing it. But she couldn't help but feel cheated.

"Why don't you sleep on the sofa?" she offered, knowing full well that there was a part of her that wanted him to leave. She was at war with that part of herself. She wasn't sure she was going to win it, either.

"Could I?" He seemed really grateful for the invitation. "Sure you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't mind."

"Great! I promise to behave."

If only you knew, David, she thought, smiling. "I'll find you a blanket in case it turns cold."

"Thanks a lot, Jenny." He kissed her forehead quickly. "I am really tired, now. I'll just skip down to my truck and fetch my pillow."

After David was settled and Jenny returned to her bedroom she noticed that _He_ had left his flute. She picked it up and ran her fingers over its smooth surface. There was a distorted reflection of her face in it. A fine instrument it was, of rare craftsmanship and beauty. She placed it on the pillow by her bed and fell asleep, never wondering what David might think if he saw it.

Jenny was sleeping peacefully when _He_ returned and stood over her silently watching her breathe.

She was such a lovely mortal, so innocent, so trusting, but she still was enough of a rebel in her soul to make her interesting as well as physically attractive. She was perfect for his purpose. Yes. Of that, he was certain.

She let out a slight sigh and turned over to her left side, still asleep.

Hadn't he watched her since her childhood? Didn't he know her deepest thoughts? Hopes? Desires? She was the only human – the sole being – he had ever felt any tenderness for. She was the only thing he didn't hate, the only one in all of creation that gave his miserable existence any meaning. He wanted her, needed her ... more than anything. She was his chosen one to bear his son.

Soon, my sweet, he thought. Soon! You will be mine. Forever!

Her firm young breasts rose and fell with her relaxed breathing. He could take her anytime he so chose, but he wanted it to be right. Had to be. Just a little longer. He would have to wait. Then, when the time came, he would make her his consort.

Patience! Something he had learned the hard way over the centuries. He had to have patience. Carefully, he took his flute in his long fingers, kissed her tenderly without waking her and left.

"Jenny," David said, shaking her slightly. "We've overslept!"

On her elbows instantly, she responded. "Huh? Are we late for work?"

"Not yet. But we will have to hurry. Luckily, I thought to bring a change of clothes with me. Don't have time to run home. I'll dash off to my truck and get them. You get dressed."

"Yes, Sir!" she said with a smile.

He stopped at her doorway and looked back. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound bossy."

"I know you didn't." She laughed lightly, thinking he was kind of cute with his hair in disarray. She looked to the pillow beside her. A smile came to her face when she saw the flute gone. She hoped he would come again. Soon!

VIII

Jenny thought for sure _He_ would return within a night or two. But he didn't. Realizing he might not return for awhile upset her. She found difficulty sleeping. What was keeping him? He had promised to return. And David – trying so hard to be her protector – was actually starting to drive her crazy, becoming almost impossible to bear. She felt lucky when she could get out of his sight long enough to, as he would say, take a leak.

Reluctantly, she had agreed to let David stay with her a few nights, hoping he would be satisfied she was fine and go back home. After all, maybe it was his being there that was keeping _Him_ away. She absolutely had to convince David she was okay. She had to see _Him!_

Jenny was friendly enough, but David sensed a strain in their relationship. Something was definitely missing. As far as he knew, she hadn't experienced anything more of the paranormal. She hadn't mentioned any strange dreams, either.

Perhaps they all had over exaggerated and blown things way out of proportion as to what they actually were? Yet, it was not like his father to get worked up over nothing. He was much too meticulous; in fact, much too anal for lack of a better word. If John Miller felt something was wrong – then something _was_ wrong.

David knew that if he stayed at Jenny's apartment any longer, he would soon wear out his welcome. That was the last thing he wanted. He would go back to his own place.

"Thank goodness!" Jenny sighed with relief and closed the door behind David after kissing him goodnight. Finally, she was alone. The way was clear for _Him_ to return.

But he didn't come!

A week passed. Jenny wondered if _He_ would ever return. David had her stocking canned goods. She was glad. Her nerves were not in any shape to deal with temperamental customers. She was grateful David had sensed that. She had this almost desperate need to be alone. And he was very understanding and good to her in spite of the fact that she was avoiding him. Only, she couldn't help herself. _He_ was all she could think about. Night and day, continuously, her mind was focused on _Him._ Maybe he was trying to drive her mad.

Or, was he waiting for something else? Yes! That had to be it. She felt like such a doofus. He had told her that she had to find out for herself who he was, that she had to understand before he could reveal his name. She hadn't been hitting the books. How stupid could she get? She couldn't wait until six, so she could rush home and start cracking open those books.

Jenny scarfed down a TV dinner, tossed the disposable plate in the garbage and settled down at the kitchen table to read. _He_ had mentioned something about her being a virgin. That was one of the most important things, it seemed. She had no clue as to why. She tossed her dreams around in her mind, especially the one where the Virgin Mary spoke to her. Mary was Jesus' mother. She was a virgin. But still, other than that, what else could be of any meaning? Did Melchizedek have any real significance? He was the high priest of the Canaanite deity. Or was it Jewish? No. Of course not. She couldn't remember.

One of her last dreams had been about Tammuz. He had stated that Tammuz was a reviving god. But some of the books contradicted that. Too many questions. Too many holes. And there was Persephone and Pluto, another dying and reviving god.

She thumbed through her King James Bible. She happened to notice in Hebrews that Jesus was more than compared with Melchizedek. He was of the order of Melchizedek. What did that mean? Hadn't she read that before? Did that mean they were related? Or even the same? Shit! She thought. I'm getting absolutely nowhere fast.

What was it David said about Lucifer? She couldn't remember what that was about, either. But she wasn't about to phone David. She wanted him to think she had dropped her interest in this pursuit completely.

There had been something when she was researching Lucifer about his being the bright and morning star. "Damn! And double damn!" Then in Revelations, the Twenty Second Chapter, she found, "I am the Root and the Offspring of David, the bright and morning star."

"Shit!" She tossed the Bible aside and stood, meandered around the kitchen for a bit, then sat back down. "That must be what David was talking about," she said to herself. She sighed, leafed through another book and was about to quit when she came across a footnote. Her hand flew to her mouth. "This is incredible!"

Over and over she read it. The footnote told her that belief in the virgin goddess was incorporated into the church by Syrian influence in the form of the Virgin Mary! Her head was splitting. She rubbed her temples and frowned. Slowly, she began to make some sense of it all – not fully understanding – but bits and pieces were falling into place, like some gigantic, mystical puzzle.

Still, she wasn't quite certain who _He_ was or what he wanted with her. He was someone special. Of that, she had no doubt. Why had he said he was finished? Ruined? If she didn't help him? Why did she have to remain a virgin? None of it made any sense, especially since he had practically seduced her already. "I wonder ..."

She took a quick shower and dressed for bed, not falling asleep for awhile, hoping _He_ would come.

He didn't.

At long last she fell into a deep and heavy slumber.

David tossed and turned; the dream returned. Jenny and the blond-headed man were at the crest of the hill again. The blond kissed her. David called out to Jenny, but she didn't hear. Instead, she returned the man's kiss!

"No!" he pleaded for her to listen. Once more, he ran towards them, and they faded away. Lightning and thunder came. He was all alone!

Swiftly, he sat up in bed, hair soaked, body shivering. He got up and warmed milk and took two aspirins. But they didn't quiet his fears. He was losing Jenny, and he didn't understand why. Or how. Or what to do. If there was anything he could do.

"Please help her, Father!" he prayed. "Please save her from this devil or whatever he is. Please! Please!"

Jenny's nose tickled ever so slightly, and she rolled over in bed. Sweet, exotic scents permeated her bedroom, and she dreamed she was in some herbal paradise amidst climbing vines and bright tropical flowers of indigo and yellow and splendid trees of muted greens.

"Jenny ... Jenny ..." he softly called. "Wake up, my sweet."

Her eyes popped open. _He_ was back! And he stood at the foot of her bed, watching her with eyes so bright a blue they appeared to be afire.

He grinned that sensual, provocative grin – sufficient to drive her mad! "Where have you been?" she breathed.

It was obvious he was very pleased. "Ah! You missed me."

"Why did you wait so long to come?"

"You know why, my sweet. You had to finish your homework. And you still do not know everything. You will in time, though." He moved gracefully around to her side.

She thought he was going to assist her in getting out of bed. But he sat down instead. And that loincloth – it covered only his front! His buttocks were bare!

Though she had been in his presence several times, she was still awed by his magnificent, powerful physique. She couldn't help muttering, "My God! What an ass!" As always, it was like seeing him for the first time. So wonderful to behold, was he, that one could not truly recall him, until they laid eyes upon him again.

"I read everything on virgins I could find. I fail to see why or how it applies to me?"

He reached out lean fingers, running them casually through her long tresses. "I didn't exactly mean you couldn't be made love to, my sweet. I simply want you to remain a virgin. I do not want David or any other male to touch you. Not even coming close to touching you."

She wasn't naïve enough to ask him what the implications of that were. It was obvious.

He absorbed her thoughts and grinned hugely, understanding. "Ah! My sweet!" He let her hair slip from his fingers. "I do love you so!"

"Tell me who you are, then."

"Soon. Very soon. You must learn patience, Jennifer.

She wasn't sure why his calling her by her name irritated her, but it did. "Don't call me Jennifer --! Why won't you tell me now?"

In the place of answering her, he covered her neck and face with ardent kisses. Before she knew what was happening, he inched his way into her bed and rested beside her. He was so warm! So tempting!

"Very sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He stared at her momentarily, his blue eyes seeming bluer than ever, and said, "I love you. You have no idea how much." He kissed her fully, sending instant waves of great passion through her.

She moaned. "Please tell me?"

"Does it matter, Jennifer? You can't turn back now, even if you think you want to. And I know you don't want to."

"Dammit! Don't brush off my question. I want to know!"

He grinned and kissed her more feverishly, more demandingly, than ever. She quivered. Never had she wanted anyone so much! Just when she reached the point where she thought she could not stand another unfulfilled moment, he released her and sat up on his elbows, smiling at her with perfect white teeth.

"Sometimes you can be infuriating! You are driving me insane, you know."

"Why thank you. I'll take that as a compliment."

"Damn you!" She went to get out of bed, but he wouldn't let her, taking hold of her arm.

He surveyed her face with his eyes and was silent for several minutes. Only the clock ticking away the seconds by her bed could be heard. He observed her closely and seemed to be pondering, deep secret thoughts.

"Why are you looking at me that way? Say something."

Finally, he spoke, "Tell you what, my love. I am going to give you a break. If you really wish to get out of this, you may."

"What are you talking about? What is that supposed to mean? I still don't know what any of this means – what you – mean. What is it all about? You did say something to the effect that you would die, if I didn't help you. What was that about?"

"True. However, since I really do love you, I want you to choose. You see, once I make love to you ..." he grinned, "there will be no turning back. _Not ever!_ You will – to put it very mildly – never be the same. Right now, you do not begin to fathom what that really means – no mortal man will ever be able to touch you!"

"What? Why?"

He chuckled deeply. "You are so refreshingly naive, my sweet. Because I will destroy _anyone_ who dares to try. Once I make love to you, _you are mine forever!"_

"I would say that is all the more reason to know who you are before I make such a big decision."

"That is a good and sound statement. But, I believe the more valid point is – is do _you_ love me?"

Was it love? She wasn't sure, not even close to being sure, but she wasn't ruling it out. There was something about him, something so compelling, so irresistible -- her very heart, her thoughts, were contradicting themselves, unable to decide which way to go in this most important decision. She avoided his question. "I still, wholeheartedly, think it just not fair that you won't tell me who or what you are."

"Jenny ..." he sighed as though her incessant questions were making him weary. "You already know who I am."

She looked hard at him. Why did he have to say it? Why? "No. I don't! Tell me!" But she was lost in his breathtaking eyes. "I only know that you _aren't_ Jesus."

Becoming tiny slits at the corners, his eyes nearly closed with his grin. "Tsk ... tsk." He shook his head. "True. And I never claimed to be, Jennifer."

"Please quit calling me that—! But you are one of the lesser ..."

"Gods?" he inserted for her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! I suppose that is what I am trying to say. But which one?"

He pulled away from her slightly, still holding her gaze. Do not underestimate me, my sweet. I told you. You already know who I am." Those stunning eyes dug into her very soul.

Suddenly she was an emotional earthquake, the fullness of what he was saying imploding into her brain, going off the Richter scale. She was shaking so hard, she vibrated. _"But you can't be!"_

His resplendent blue eyes were instantly brilliant coals of fire. _"Oh yes ... I most certainly am!"_ As soon as he said it, there were thousands of pinpoint lights, every color imaginable, zipping all around him. She even thought she saw something that looked like fairies, hovering over his shoulders, their wings fluttering like those of hummingbirds.

She gasped _. "Oh God! No! You can't be!"_ Now, she was more than intimidated. There weren't any words to describe her terror. She scooted back from him.

"You were willing to half believe before, Jennifer," he emphasized her name, slightly annoyed at her reaction. His voice grew deeper, and much more serious. "Do you love me?"

Her mouth was cotton, all moisture gone, no words coming forth, beyond speechless. Sheer terror besieged her – and it wasn't just who he was that caused her so much fear. It was something else. Something deep within her believed he was telling the truth about loving her. The worst part was the awful realization that -- in spite of who he was and what the unspeakable repercussions would be -- she wanted him. That was the most terrifying of all. She wanted to hurl.

His eyes turned back to their cool, stunning blue. He knew her thoughts. "I am still offering you the chance to say 'no'. You are the only person I ever gave such a chance. In fact, the only person I ever gave any kind of chance." He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Because, _Jennifer,_ you are the very first and only thing I have ever loved! In spite of who I am, I still want you to tell me. I need to hear the words."

"No ..." she whimpered like a puppy. "No ... Don't make me. No ..."

" _Do you love me?"_

"I can't ..." Tears filled her eyes. How could this be happening? She was terrified of him, of who he was. Yet, she wanted him so terribly much. She was appalled at her maddening desire for him. Surely, this was the true Pan. How else could she feel this way about something, someone, so purely evil?

His fingers tightened on her chin, bruising. "Answer me, Jennifer!"

"You know," she whispered hoarsely. "I can see it in your eyes. You know exactly how I feel."

" _Say it!"_ he bellowed.

There was no denying such intense feelings. But she still tried to pull away, even though he wasn't letting go. She did her best to avoid those eyes.

More softly, he said, "Just say it, my sweet."

As he sat there watching, observing, waiting for her verbal response, she wanted nothing more than for him to take her in his wonderful arms and take her completely and totally. Full realization hit her! "Yes!" she blurted. _"Yes! I think I do love you!"_

The truth was out. There was no going back.

His brilliant eyes softened to a well of tenderness, a drastic change from only a few moments before. "Do you want to be mine --? For all time?"

"Yes! No! I don't know." Her throat was tight. It was painful to speak. "But I love God!" At the same time she said it, she knew she wanted to be _His_ forever. It just wasn't fair that she, a mere mortal, had been put in such a position to make that kind of a choice.

He studied her thoughtfully and removed his hand from her chin. "I have not lied, Jennifer. You are the only person I have ever loved. I need you. Yet, I love you enough to let you go free. It is not my wish to put you under such stress. I will leave now. You will never see me again." He began to fade. "Just hearing you say that you love me is enough."

Sudden panic seized her. _"No!_ Please! Don't leave me! Please!"

He materialized again. "You've made your decision?"

"I ... I ... Oh shit!"

"I am waiting." He scrutinized her with those compelling, inescapable eyes.

"Can I just love you and be with you? Do I have to deny God?"

A thoughtful look crossed his handsome face. He cupped his hand to his chin. "Some would say that once you have chosen me, you have already denied ..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. "But, because you do mean so much to me, I _will_ offer you this much. If you choose me, after one year, you may go free. That is, if you should decide by then that you do not love me, that you have made the wrong choice or decision, or that you do not wish to be with me for any reason."

" _What?"_

He held up a long forefinger. "However, there is one minor little stipulation."

"And what might that be?"

"As I said, after the year is up, you may leave me anytime you wish. But once I touch you, once you belong to me, no mortal will ever have you ...or immortal for that matter.

" That much I _will_ not give in to. I am _very_ jealous. I will kill any man, any male, who dares to try and touch you, once you have belonged to me. I want that understood."

Jenny had heard of bargaining with the devil, but this was something that would never have occurred to her, not in her wildest, most insane dreams. He had her --! Hook line and sinker. What made it worse, he knew it. "Am I supposed to consider that fair?"

"The decision is yours, my sweet, however you may consider it. I am telling you the truth. I really do love you. Now ... you have to decide just how much you love me. Simple as that."

"I think that what I feel for you is love. But how can I be sure?"

"You can't. You have to decide that."

"You know how I feel, for sure. I am certain you do, probably much more than I."

He did not address her last statement. "It is agreed, then? You have made up your mind?"

Though she wanted to say 'yes' something held her back. That something was her love for God. Wasn't there any way she could love _Him_ and not deny her maker? This was too much too soon. Way too much. She desperately needed more time to think, to process it all. Why couldn't she have more time?

He spoke, "Jenny, my sweet ..."

"Yes?" she wasn't sure she trusted his tone of voice.

"You can rest at ease for now. I have no intentions of making you mine tonight."

"But I thought ..."

"You shouldn't think," he said with an amused grin. "Thinking can be dangerous." He chortled. "I am teasing. I merely wanted to give you a taste, an example, of what it would be like for you to be mine. Remember, though, it was only a taste."

Had such an arrogant statement come out of the mouth of any other male, she would have detested the cockiness of it. He was, by all means, no ordinary man, though. All she knew was her whole body was aflame with desire for him, every nerve in her flesh screamed for his touch. _And he_ _knew it!_ It was in his eyes. "You are cruel --! How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't." He stood and gazed down at her longingly, making her crazy, not speaking for some time, studying her intently; deliberately driving her insane with his presence. What silent thoughts were going though his handsome head? "Jennifer," he suddenly confessed, breaking the dead silence, "I want you to be my wife!"

" _What?"_ Talk about someone blowing your mind away! Now, she _was_ incredulous! How could she possibly marry him?"

"Why are you so shocked? If I can copulate with you, I can marry you."

She really hadn't thought of it that way.

"This is how it is, my sweet. I have decided to give you one week to make this decision, to make up that mind of yours. That will be February thirteenth."

"The day before Valentine's?"

"Yes ... That is what Christians believe they are celebrating. I am speaking of the Eve of Lupercalia – a festival in _my_ honor," he informed her with a proud grin. "I know of no better time for our wedding."

The idea had rendered her breathless, completely beside herself. "My ... My ..."

He shook a finger at her. "Tsk. Tsk."

"Goodness! I was going to say."

He chuckled. "Right."

"You're _serious_ , aren't you?"

"One week, my sweet. One week. During that week I want you to see your friend David, be with him as much as possible – but don't let him touch you! You may," he paused for a second, "even attend church, if you wish?" He eyed her obliquely. "I want you to get a good look at what it would be like to be with him. Then, when I return, you will have made your decision."

"But ..." Before she could utter another sound, he grabbed her and kissed her passionately, sending such thrills of desire through her, she would never have imagined. She returned his kiss with maddening need, thinking she couldn't possibly make such a decision.

He broke their embrace suddenly and held her at arms length, blue eyes delving into hers, conveying promises of what could be. She wanted to speak. He silenced her, gently placing a fingertip to her lips. "Shhh!" Then he vanished.

"But ..." No use. He wouldn't return until he was ready. She had learned that the hard way.

She sighed and slipped into her covers. Her fingers went to her lips; the tingle of his warm kisses remained. "God! She cried out to seemingly empty space. "How can I choose?"

David expelled a hiss of relief when Jenny came in for work. After having another terrible night with that awful dream, he had been afraid something drastic, something horrible, had befallen her. There she was, though, and looking lovely, rosy-cheeked and radiant. She briskly waltzed up to him and smiled happily, radiantly was more like it, and planted him with a surprise kiss.

His heart leapt with joy. She was more than all right.

"Helloooo, David," she bubbled. "You're looking _very_ handsome this morning."

"I was just about to comment that you aren't looking so shabby, either. In fact, you're even prettier than I remembered. Not that I thought you weren't beautiful to begin with. I think you look absolutely amazing. What did you do to yourself this morning?"

"Haven't done anything, really." She couldn't tell David that _He_ – Pan – had put the glow in her face. And there, she had finally been able to think his name without flinching. It _is_ his name, she thought. He _is_ Pan. The memory of his touch had not fully left her. It wouldn't. She knew _He_ wasn't about to let her to forget.

"Whatever, Jenny. You look absolutely terrific!"

She fingered and straightened his tie. "By the way, you can give your dad all those books back. I am finished with them."

There was an instant glow to his face, as though someone had placed a lit candle in front of him in a dark room. "You mean --?"

"I mean," she said, cozying up to him in a way that was not customary of her, "I don't need them anymore. I have learned all I need to ... for now."

"This is too good to be true. Where is Jenny? And what have you done with her?"

She laughed lightly and smiled warmly, rolling her eyes up to his.

"Wonderful! I have to admit, I've been really worried about you."

"Needn't worry about me anymore, David."

"But I do."

"And I do appreciate that fact, that you care enough to worry over me. But I can take care of myself."

"Yes," he said happily. "I guess I underestimated you."

There was that word. Pan had used it. She must remember not to ever underestimate _Him_ , either.

She had no idea of his powers, having seen only what he wanted her to see. Now, she had just one week to think it all over. No. She must not underestimate him ... ever.

"What is it, Jenny? You were lost in thought, there."

Was I?"

"You seemed as though your thoughts were very far away ... another universe."

"It's nothing." She released his tie. "Why?"

"You had such a funny – expression – on your face."

"David, I am fine. I assure you." She quickly scanned their surroundings, making sure no one was watching then kissed him.

That set his hopes soaring.

Though Jenny tried for the first half of the week to concentrate on giving David every chance possible, she found it more and more difficult to not think about Pan. When she wasn't with David or working, she was reading everything about Pan and Satan she could get her hands on.

It seemed very little of what she read fit the being she was becoming to know, at least, on Satan. Most of the information was nothing more than myth, stories people only imagined. She wished she hadn't returned the books to John so soon.

In King James, Job depicted a different Satan than what was in the New Testament. Why, he was even referred to as one of the sons of God! That was the first time she had ever heard that. Did that mean he _was_ a son of God? She had learned that Lucifer, if they were one and the same, was one of the angels at the beginning of creation. Perhaps sons of God merely meant angels? Or did it mean something entirely different? It was hard enough to stay focused on one thought here. She didn't want to lose direction.

From what she understood from Job, Satan could do only what God allowed. He was merely performing his duties, his _job!_ That did not sound like the totally and completely evil entity she had always been taught to believe he was. It wasn't a lot, but it made her feel better, not quite so guilty.

Jenny quietly observed David as he busily gathered shopping carts together and guided them into place by the wall. Somebody had been slack on their job, and instead of coming down on the kid that should have been responsible, he quietly took on the task himself.

David is nice, she thought, probably everything a girl could wish for in a man: intelligent, attentive and attractive, especially with such pretty brown hair and emerald-green eyes. Only, he would probably lose some of that hair. And he would probably look just like his father, which wouldn't be all that bad. Reverend Miller, though often intimidating, was still an attractive man.

David turned and noticed Jenny watching him. He smiled a fetching smile. She mirrored his with her own and continued checking groceries for the young black lady with twin boys.

David walked up and began sacking for Jenny.

"Thanks, David. But I can do this."

"You have a line of customers waiting. I don't mind. And I don't have a clue where that Larry is. He should have been off break fifteen minutes ago. There are too many customers in the lines. Your line, especially. You can use some help."

"Won't argue that. I was wondering who was supposed to be sacking today. I should have known it was Larry. Don't know why you don't fire his lazy ass."

"He's really not too bad. He's trying to support his mother, you know. Just too much responsibility for a seventeen-year-old."

"I agree with that. Still ..." A blond hunk stepped casually up to the end of the line. There was no way he compared with _Him,_ but the sight of the young man started Jenny's thoughts soaring again. _Shit! Everywhere I turn there is something or someone to remind me of Him!_

"Jenny?" David snapped his fingers in her face, breaking her thoughts. "Jenny?"

"What?" she blinked.

"You're daydreaming. Give the lady her change."

Jenny flushed and stared at the ones in her hand. "Oh!" She looked into obsidian eyes that showed signs of impatience and irritation. "Sorry. Don't know where my mind was. Must have been on another planet. It won't happen again," she said as much to David as the woman. She handed over the bills.

The woman smiled politely, still a little irritation showing in those black eyes, and nodded that it was okay. She boxed her scuffling ten-year-olds on their ears and said, "Let's go!"

Jenny rolled her green eyes around to David. "Sorry. Don't know where my mind was."

"Guess it's my karma today ... spaced-out employees. Yes, obviously, you were somewhere else. You certainly weren't here," he chuckled. "Want to tell me where you got whatever it is you're on? So I can take some."

"Really, David. I am sorry. I'll do my best to not let it happen again."

If it had been anyone else but Jenny, David would probably have been upset, but he just could not stay angry with her. "Okay. Just try to keep your mind on this planet and what you're doing here. I need to go find Larry. See if he went down the toilet or something."

"Okay," she said. "And I promise to keep my focus." But he was already gone.

There was a little old lady with blue hair looking mighty impatient. Jenny checked her out, and then had to wait tolerantly while the elderly woman, hands shaking with palsy, counted out ten dollars in pennies and nickels for her groceries. Jenny stood tapping her foot, blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes and smiled politely at the edgy looking man in his forties that was behind the old woman.

David returned by the time the old woman walked off. "Mom wants to know if you're coming over for your art lesson tonight?" He slipped a picnic ham into a white plastic bag and then into a brown paper sack.

"Oh! Glad you mentioned it. I almost forgot. Yes. I suppose so. I do enjoy them ... and visiting with her."

"Would you like to have dinner, too? She told me to ask you?"

"Sure. I'd like that very much. A TV dinner was all I was planning on."

"Not if I can help it. You and your TV dinners." He shook his head. "I think you keep Swanson in business. I'll pick you up at six."

XIX

Helen thought it would be nice for them to paint from their imaginations. "Good stimulation," she said to Jenny, as she rinsed their brushes off with artist's grade turpentine.

Jenny had never tried painting from only her imagination before, but she set up her canvass board, took out her paints and went to work. She merely wanted to express her idea of a simple hill and a few trees, perhaps willow branches swaying and dancing in a gentle breeze, but the more she painted the wilder her creation grew, more and more abstract, with vivid reds, oranges, yellows and blacks – no greens or cool blues.

Her strokes were fast, heavy and furious. Her branches turned into gnarled and barren bony fingers. As though she were watching someone else work, she hardly realized that it was her own hand holding the brush that was flying across the canvass.

John happened to look up from his Monopoly game with David. "What the --?" He noticed Helen was spellbound by the intensity of Jenny's painting. What they saw sent cold chills creeping up their spines: Jenny was painting a raging inferno in a deep and mammoth cavern – she was painting hell!

David, who had his back to the women, turned to see what had caught his dad's attention. "Huh?"

No one else uttered a word, but they shared glances of disquietude.

When finished, Jenny stepped aside from her canvass to get a better perspective. She couldn't believe what she had painted. Her jaw dropped. She stood stunned for a moment. It had to be _His_ influence.

She realized everyone was staring at her painting, mesmerized by what she had done. She smiled uneasily and broke the silence. "Guess I'd better stick to copying someone else's work."

"No," a shaken David said, trying to cover up for her embarrassment. "It is a very _interesting_ painting, Jenny. The colors ... they're ... well ... outstanding." It was the best he could come up with.

She felt lost. It shown in her eyes. She appreciated what he was trying to do, and she didn't explain herself. She couldn't. She was glad when David gave her a hug and suggested that they all call it a night. There were no arguments to the suggestion.

Later that evening, as Jenny and David sat on the sofa in her apartment, David laid his arm around Jenny's shoulders. "You look very pretty tonight." He was hoping to get her mind off the painting. She had been very quiet ever since they had left his folks'. She was every bit as disturbed, if not more so, than the rest of them.

"David, I am sorry. I really don't know what came over me. I just started applying paint -- Well, you see what I came up with!"

"A remarkable work, Jenny. Very intense. No one thought that much about it. Really. Quit worrying," he was lying his ass off, but his concern was for her feelings.

"Are you kidding? From the look your dad gave me! David, he thought a great deal about it. So did your mother. She was at a total loss for words, as we all were. You think I didn't notice the drop-dead silence? No telling what's going on in their minds."

"You know my dad by now. He always seems more severe than he really is."

"Please don't try to humor me, David. I know damn good and well what I did. And I certainly didn't earn any medals of trust for it."

"Jenny ... it is okay." He didn't even flinch at her swearing. "Honey, please try to forget about it." He took his arm back from around her shoulders and entwined his fingers in hers, squeezing her hand affectionately. She offered up half a smile and he kissed her.

"Jenny ... Think I've finally gathered up enough courage to say this. I have given this a great deal of thought, especially this last week. You have been so wonderful. And it's been on my mind for a while -- I think I am in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Before she could respond he covered her mouth with a kiss.

As he pulled away, Jenny looked him straight on, into his kind eyes. There was no way she could say she was in love with him. Not in the sense he wanted. She did care for him a lot, but it simply was not the same as what she felt for _Him_. There wasn't a man on the earth who could even come close to compare. "David," she said, carefully choosing her words, "I am not sure how I feel right now. Everything is so confusing."

He was surprised and it showed. "Does that mean you don't love me?"

"Not exactly. I _do_ care one hell of a lot for you. It's just ..."

"What, honey?"

"Give me a little more time. Will you?"

"Okay." At least, she hadn't said she didn't. He still held hope. He wanted to express just how much he did love her. He kissed her with all the intenseness of feeling he had.

She tenderly returned his kiss.

His excitement soared and his body quivered. Maybe now was the right time. Maybe it was what was needed to convince her that they _were_ right for one another. He let his passion have full rein.

Jenny was surprised and shocked. This she hadn't expected from David. This wasn't the calm, gentle man she was accustomed to. She had obviously encouraged him too much. He had misunderstood her show of affection. She tried to pull away, but it didn't faze him. Swiftly, he had her bra unfastened and he fondled her breasts. _No!_ she thought. _No!_ I haven't made my decision, yet. But he wasn't letting up long enough for her to protest, smothering her with kisses. She wondered if _He_ was off in a corner watching the whole scene. She finally managed to wriggle out of his grip. "David! Wait!"

"Honey ... I want you," he breathed hotly and grabbed her again, covering her again with his kisses. His belt buckle popped open, and he unzipped his pants.

Shit!

Wildly, clumsily, he groped for her zipper.

No! Please. No! Dammit! Where are you, Pan? If you love me, help me!

The bang of the front door blowing open happened so fast that it startled the both of them. A freezing wind gushed loudly in, much like the sound of an Artic blizzard, and papers from the end table blew everywhere, fluttering around the room like butterflies. Definitely, it had caught David's attention.

"What the --?" He didn't waste a second in jumping up and pushing the door closed, which was hard to do, as the wind was so strong. Once the door was shut, he shivered hard. "Damn! That was weird. Wasn't cold a few minutes ago."

This was Jenny's chance. She jumped up from the sofa and put her hands to David's chest, holding him off until she could explain. "I don't want to make you angry, David. But I don't want to ... to ... not just yet."

He searched her face with his eyes. It was apparent that he realized she wasn't ready. "Sorry ... Jenny. Sorry. This is disastrous." He gasped. "I _am_ sorry. Of course, I don't want to ... if you're not ready."

She almost felt sorry for him. This was hitting his pride hard. "I am sorry, too. Please understand, David. I just want to be certain. Too big a step. I have to be more than sure. Please don't be upset with me?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath before exhaling. He leaned his forehead into hers. "No. I'm not angry or upset, Jenny. Not with you. If I am upset with anyone, it is with myself. I was out of hand. I am so sorry. I hope you will forgive me?" He pulled back his head and smiled slightly. "Man it's cold in here!" he rubbed his hands together and shivered hard.

"Yes. It's like a freezer in here -- Would you like some coffee to warm you up? I know I could use a cup."

"Yeah. That sounds real good. Anything to warm up. Maybe even a blanket, "he said, jokingly. "After the coffee... I think I'll dash home and take a hot shower. For more than one reason." He smiled again.

Hoping her own smile was convincing, Jenny went for their coffee. It was very cold inside. And she knew why. He definitely knew how to get a person's attention. That was what she had wanted. She couldn't complain. With that thought, she chuckled to herself and hurried to make that coffee.

"Odd," David muttered as he took his keys from his pocket and unlocked his truck door. "It is really warm out. What happened to that cold wind that was blowing just a little bit ago?" The sky was perfectly clear, not a cloud anywhere. He shrugged and stepped up into his truck.

Jenny watched from her bedroom window as David drove away. She thought she saw someone in the shadows by the liqueur store.

A man stepped forward into the light after David was gone. _Why he's a soldier! But, I never saw a uniform quite like that one before._

The uniform was dark, probably black. And the soldier was wearing a holster, complete with gun. There were no close military bases. Ellington Field hadn't been an active base in years. Even if there was a base close, what would an MP – or whatever he was – be doing in Texas City in full uniform?

She didn't see the soldier look straight up at her when she turned away from the window. He smiled smugly and slipped back into the deep shadows.

David was full of admiration for Jenny as he watched her sing from the brown Baptist hymnal. The white ruffles and sleeves on her otherwise baby-blue dress gave her an appearance of classic elegance he hadn't noticed before. Truly, the way she was dressed would be considered by many of the young a bit old fashioned, but she looked absolutely stunning -- Grace Kelly reborn. Her white pearl earrings added just the right touch, along with her auburn hair tucked neatly in a bun, enhancing her delicate feminine features. Right then and there he knew he was going to ask her to marry him. Perhaps after dinner?

He had already discussed the possibility with his folks. They were pretty much gung-ho for the idea and couldn't be more supportive. "You know we all love Jenny," his dad had said. His mother had given him a big hug when he told her of his intentions. Except for the incident with the painting, everything else had been great lately. If anything, Jenny appeared happier and healthier than ever.

The hymn ended and John said a quiet prayer over the offering plates. Two deacons started down the aisles with the plates, holding and extending them out for members of the congregation to drop in their tithes.

David dropped in a wadded twenty, leaned back and laid an arm around his girl, probably his future wife, feeling very comfortable and secure with her and his world.

Jenny was giving David her all – all the attention she thought she could – hoping that when the critical moment came, she would make the right choice, the right decision. Deep down in her gut, though, she endured anxious pangs of guilt. She already knew which one she wanted to choose. And it didn't help that David was counting on her completely. It was all over his face, his love for her, his pride in their relationship. It was obvious which one she should choose. Her heart just would not cooperate. And this was her last and final day to make that decision.

The last day!

Pan would be expecting her answer tonight. Did she dare ask God to help her make the choice? No! That would be stupid. That would be an insult to his grace. At least, she understood that. She couldn't ask God for something like that! This decision she would be totally responsible for – for eternity! Eternity! The word rang like a loud bell in her mind. Forever! She would be responsible for what she decided and would have to face the consequences of that decision no matter who she chose.

The quiet in the church was suddenly and rudely broken when the big double doors burst wide open and an Arctic blast chilled the building. A low, shivering murmur passed over the congregation. Heads turned and necks craned to see who had come in.

A very odd sensation fell over Jenny. She knew! She looked too.

It was him!

Pan!

He had come to church! And he was wearing a navy blue suit, a light blue shirt and a navy blue tie, appearing like any ordinary human coming to worship.

Even in this human charade, he was still the best looking male her eyes had ever feasted on.

The hairs on the back of John's neck pricked as he caught the cold blue eyes of the stranger who just stood in the doorway for a few minutes. This was no ordinary man. Raw fear swept into his very soul and momentarily stole his breath away. He gasped, sucking in air. Without once taking his eyes off the stranger, John dismissed the two men who had brought the collection plates forward, set the plates under the pulpit, then opened his Bible. He was all too aware that there wasn't a pair of eyes in the entire congregation that wasn't glued to the handsome stranger. The women, were virtually hypnotized; the men, restless.

John cleared his throat. Slowly, the men and women returned to their original positions. That is, everyone but Jenny. She watched in awe as Pan took long, steady strides down the center aisle. And, all the while, he smiled amusedly at John. When he reached the pew across from David and Jenny, he grinned a cat-like grin in their direction and took a seat by the aisle.

There was something about the man. David couldn't quite place that face. But he had seen it before. Of that, he was certain. Jenny was staring at the stranger. He was smiling at her. Did she know him? He squeezed her slightly and kissed her lightly on her rosy cheek.

Jenny caught the blaze of anger in Pan's eyes. He was jealous! Ironically, he was jealous of a mortal. She realized she'd better turn back to the service that had recommenced or David would really wonder. He was looking at her questioningly, now. As it was, He had caused enough commotion by his unnerving entrance.

John read from Revelations: "Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred three-score and six."

There was a look of total surprise on Helen's face. This was not the sermon John had labored over all week. Her hand went to her mouth.

It was as though someone other than himself was preaching the sermon. John's words seemed to be coming from someplace else. He trusted it was from God. Every now and then he would gaze straight into the icy depths of those blue eyes. For some reason, he was compelled to direct his sermon to this mysterious man. He was all too aware that this stranger, whoever he was, knew this, for he focused his eyes right back to John, as though reading his deepest secrets.

Shit! Jenny thought. She glanced over, expecting to see that coy, mischievous smile. She was wrong. When he turned her way, what she saw was pain and pleading, pleading for her to understand. She couldn't take this! She quickly averted her eyes. It had to be one of his tricks!

John continued: "And the third angel followed then, saying with a loud voice, 'If any man worship the beast and his image, and receives his mark in his forehead, or in his hand, the same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of indignation, and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb: and they have no rest day or night, who worship the beast and his image, and whosoever receiveth the mark of the saints ...'"

She dared to look his way again. A healthy tear slid down his sculptured cheek. _Oh God! Help me!_ She prayed. _Help me!_

_His_ eyes were deep pools of blue sorrow, pools of eternal longing. He mouthed her name, "Jenny ..." His jaw twitched.

Jenny, extremely nervous, fidgeted with the buttons on her dress.

John's strong voice carried through the church: "And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit and a chain in his hand. And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, and cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon him, that he should deceive no more, till the thousand years should be fulfilled; and after that he must be loosed a little season."

David stared back at the stranger who had come in late and captured everyone's attention, including Jenny's. Now the man was watching John intently. No ... David thought. It can't be him. Why would he be making her nervous? We don't even know him. It was an assumption he would later regret. The man did seem familiar, though. David decided that it was probably just a resemblance to someone else. Maybe it was the sermon. Perhaps she doesn't like it. He checked his Timex. Time for his dad to finish.
"'And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever.'" John slapped the Bible closed, made a few statements of his own in reference to what he had just read, said a prayer and dismissed the congregation without a closing hymn.

A low murmuring spread over the congregation as they stood and gathered up their accessories. They had been completely taken by surprise that John had closed the service in such a manner.

Some of the members cast questioning looks in his direction. A couple of gray-haired deacons seemed especially disturbed. Other members just accepted church was over and headed on out the door.

Never was Jenny so glad to get anything over in her entire life. She would never be able to sit through anything like that ever again! She glanced around. Where --?

He was gone!

She stood, bewildered. The door had not opened again. She was sure of that. And he was sitting in the pew only moments before. He had actually pulled his evaporating act in the middle of the church! The audacity!

The congregation was thick, as the church had been packed. David took Jenny by her elbow to assist her through the mass. It took them several minutes of squeezing through to finally reach the open doors.

John had slipped out the back door from the room that was hidden behind the pulpit and managed to get to the front before most of the parishioners. One look told him that the pale-faced Jenny would not be back in his church for some time. Maybe never. It saddened him, not so much for himself but for his son and Jenny. She was barely audible, mumbling something he wasn't sure of when he shook her hand. He didn't bother to ask her to repeat herself. He hoped that after dinner, he could find out what the trouble was, if he could get her to talk, which appeared extremely unlikely. And it was strange how that man, whoever he was, had disappeared. One minute he was there, sending daggers; the next, he was gone. John had not seen him leave.

David was justifiably worried. What had begun as a perfect day had quickly turned sour. Jenny appeared depressed in a major way. If this was what church did to her, then he wasn't going to ask her to go again. At least, not until this thing was worked out. Once in the car, he told her he was sorry that the sermon had upset her.

Jenny could not speak for a few minutes, fighting back tears. The sermon had not helped, that was for sure. No question about it. But it was seeing _Him_ again in the middle of everything, in the center of the reality she was comfortable with. Seeing the reality of _Him_ – was what had cut it. She had made her choice. She would never be able to love David the way she loved _Him_ – Pan. Never!

"It wasn't your Dad's sermon, David. It's something else. I have been struggling with a decision."

"My stomach is doing flip-flops here, Babe. No way ... do I like the sound of this. What's going on? What's this decision? I gather you've made it already?"

Her expression said it all. She felt absolutely rotten. There would be no fighting back tears. "David," she said with a wet gush, "I thought maybe I ... I loved you enough to ..."

"But?" A hard lump formed and filled his throat and wedged there; he could barely speak more than a whisper. "You don't?"

She nodded. "I do love you. Just not enough. What I haven't told you is – Well, I met someone else not long ago."

David sunk back in his seat. "This is news! I had no idea," he sputtered, obviously very hurt. He slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. _"Why didn't you tell me?"_

At that moment Jenny felt less honorable than a sewer rat. David Miller did not deserve this, what she was doing. "Because I wasn't sure ... David. I wasn't certain which one of you I love the most. I know that may be difficult for you to believe right now. But I _do_ love you. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. You've got to believe that."

He wiped the tears off his face with the sleeve of his white shirt. "I see." His voice had turned noticeably cold.

Jenny wasn't really surprised, but it didn't help, either. "I don't want to hurt you," she insisted, crying harder and having a panged expression of extreme guilt.

He sucked in air and exhaled. "Well, guess if that is the way it is ... then that is the way it is. But," he said, his face softening, somewhat., "You could tell me who the lucky guy is. I think I have a right to know. Do I know him?"

"No. You don't know him, David." She shook her head slowly. "Guess it really doesn't make any difference, does it?"

He studied her momentarily. "You knew I was going to ask you to marry me, didn't you?"

"I suspected." She averted her eyes, not wanting or needing to see the hurt in his good face. And he was good. She had no doubts about that. "I am sorry, David." She felt so awful, so low, in doing this to him. She would have never planned doing such a thing to anyone, let alone, someone as good as he.

He cupped her chin in his hand and made her look at him. "Has he asked you?"

"Yes. He has. I told him that I would give him my decision tonight."

He released her chin and offered her his handkerchief that he'd had tucked away in his hip pocket. "Tonight, huh?"

She dabbed her face and the corners of her eyes and returned the handkerchief.

"And all this time," he sighed despairingly, "I thought it was just you and me. I have to admit, I feel a bit betrayed."

"I hadn't thought about it that way, but you're right. I am so sorry. Truly. I never meant for it to be this way. And I really haven't known him for very long."

"He must be quite a guy, then?"

"He is. But so are you."

"You can't make me feel any better by flattery, Jenny." He honked his nose into the handkerchief and stuffed the wadded linen back in his pocket. "Well," he said, needing to change the subject. "My folks are expecting us for dinner -- Do you still want to come?"

"You mean you want me to?"

"Yes. Yes!" He forced a smile. "This one last time. Mom has prepared a delicious pot roast, and I would hate to spoil it for her."

"Thank you, David.... By all means, let us not spoil it. And thank you so much for being such a champ of a guy. You deserve so much more, someone so much better than I."

The coldness had left his voice. "I'll be the judge of that. Shit! I just know I love you. And I want you to be happy. If someone else can make you happier," he shrugged, "then that's the way it has to be."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You are priceless, David. Really priceless. I truly wish this hadn't happened. Thank you _so much_ for everything."

A peck on the cheek wasn't good enough for David. He grabbed her and kissed her passionately and tenderly for one last time.

John had still held onto the hope of having a talk with Jenny, if she was up to it, but after David spilled the bad news, he knew there was no point. "Son, I am sorry," he said, and tears came to his eyes. He draped a stout arm around David's shoulder. "I am more than sorry." He sadly shook his head. "I think I'm as disappointed as you." He looked his son in the eyes then and said, "Well, maybe not quite as much, but it does sadden me greatly. It hurts my heart. Mom will certainly hate to hear it.

"She was really excited about having Jenny for a daughter-in-law. She and I have come to think of Jenny as the daughter we never had, you know. She has truly become a part of our family. We were just hoping to make it official."

David bobbed his head.

"I suppose that is why she was so nervous in church. I mistook it for something else – that stranger. Guess I was wrong."

"You know, Dad ... I find something really odd. At first, I thought that guy might have something to do with it, too. But to my knowledge, Jenny doesn't know him.

"There was something very spooky about him." David held his dad's gaze. "I had the strangest feeling you deliberately changed the content of your sermon because of him -- Did you?"

John didn't want to admit that the man had, indeed, scared the blazing hell out of him. "I felt like changing it." He feigned a smile, hoping to be convincing. It was hard for him not to be perfectly honest. But he didn't want to admit just how much the stranger had actually scared him. "Well, guess all this just goes to show you that you never can tell what a woman is thinking," he said, getting back to Jenny. "I admit that I would never have guessed it."

David raised then lowered his eyebrows in bewilderment. He sighed heavily. "No. You sure can't."

"Son," John patted his son on the back affectionately, "sure wish you a lot better luck next time."

"Thanks, Dad. If there is a next time. Don't think I could go through this again, not with similar results. At least, not any time soon."

John suggested they go eat before Helen grew upset with them. Neither felt much like eating, but for her sake, they knew they had to try. They joined the women at the dining table.

David was only going to shake Jenny's hand when she surprised him by grabbing him and planting him with a quick but solid kiss. She then ran into her apartment and closed the door in front of him. She did not want to see him cry anymore, or for him to see her. It was over. Time for the big change in her life. She ran hot water for her bath and poured in the musk-scented oil that her mother had given her for her last birthday.

Mother! She needed to call her right away! Before it got too late.

X

Jenny had no idea when Pan (it still seemed awkward to call him by that name) would come, or where or when they were going to be married. It struck her that she knew absolutely nothing about it. Still, she had to let her mother know something. An unexpected knock on the door sent her grabbing for her robe and hurrying to answer. Had David come back to plead with her? Surely not.

But it wasn't David.

Before Jenny, stood a very debonair, good-looking, middle-aged man with curly dark locks, just a touch of white at the temples, and his eyes shown like black marbles. There was a regal but mysterious presence about him, a European aristocratic air, which oddly enough, enhanced his black chauffeur's uniform -- a paradox that worked.

"Madam!" He bowed graciously. I have a message from the Master." With a white-gloved hand he handed over an envelope that was trimmed elegantly in gold. "And he is anticipating your response."

"Who might your Master be?" She said, stifling a snigger, wondering who had put this handsome man up to such an obvious joke.

Perfect teeth sparkling, he smiled pleasantly and replied, "I suggest you read the note, Madam. I am certain it is self-explanatory."

She almost hated to tear the envelope open, it was so pretty.

It read: "My sweet, sweet Jenny, I am awaiting your decision. If your answer is no, you will never see me again. At least, not on this plane." She wondered what he meant by that. "However, if your answer is yes, be waiting for you ride at 1:30 a.m." It was signed with a large "S".

"An S? I thought ..."

"Your answer, Madam?" The chauffeur urged, showing no response to her question.

"I'll be shit!"

"Pardon, Madam?"

"Never mind. Do you have a pen?"

"Certainly, Madam." He took a long black one from the inside of his coat and handed it over to her.

In the right hand bottom corner she scribbled a large, "Yes," and signed it, "Jenny", then slipped it back into the gold-trimmed envelope and returned it and the pen to the awaiting gentleman.

With a slight, gracious nod of his head, he said, "Thank you, Madam." He clicked his heels with a move of absolute trained perfection, tipped his hat slightly, turned and left.

"Holy shit!" Jenny exclaimed, watching the sophisticated gentleman disappear into the driver's side of his black lemo and shut the shiny door. She felt as though she'd just stepped into the Twilight Zone. She closed her door and went back to her bath.

Jenny had no sooner finished her bath and was brushing the tangles from her wet hair when someone knocked again. She pulled her robe tight and secured the sash and went to answer.

Once more, she found herself face to face with the handsome chauffeur. This time, two young women were with him. One, who appeared to be about twenty-five, was carrying a very expensive looking black evening gown.

No. Not an evening gown. It was a _wedding dress!_ It was satin, covered in yards and yards of back lace, glittering with what looked like thousands of tiny, fine gems. "Holy Toledo!" Jenny's mouth was agape.

The younger of the two girls, around sixteen, held a crown of scarlet roses for Jenny's hair, and a black veil. The chauffeur bowed graciously and handed Jenny a pair of black satin slippers. Jenny took the slippers and veil, all the while, mouth still gaping, and stepped aside for the entourage to step in.

"Compliments of the Master," the chauffeur announced.

When she finally found her voice, she said, "Thank you! All this is ... overwhelming! So beautiful!"

"The Master would have nothing less than the best for his lady, Madam. He gestured towards the young women. "The Master's concubines are here to assist you in dressing for the wedding."

" _Concubines!"_ she squeaked.

"Yes, Madam," he said with a hit of a chuckle. "You are the Master's first and _only_ wife. To be, that is."

"I take it that that is intended to make me feel better?"

He smiled, amused. "Why yes, Madam. He loves only you. The concubines are _your_ servants, now."

"Oh --?"

The young women nodded amiably and didn't appear to mind.

"Yes. And one more thing. The Master said to tell you that if you so desire, you may invite your mother. Now, unless you have further need of me --? He wants me to supervise preparations for the wedding ceremony. There is much to be done in a very short time."

"Looks like you're doing pretty good, so far," she commented, more as a thought than a statement. It just came out. "I can't think of a single thing I need. Thank you."

"Thank _you_ , Madam." He exited with a cordial bow.

Jenny faced the concubines, now her servants, it seemed. "He did say I can invite my mother? Right?"

"Yes, Madam. He most certainly did."e di

The youngest, a pretty honey blonde, said, "It is going to be the grandest wedding of all time, my lady. The Master is seeing to that. I am so thrilled. Thousands are coming."

"Thousands?" Had she heard right. "Thousands?" she repeated.

"Yes!" The girl said and spun around on her toes and danced around the room, as though the wedding was to be hers. "I am _so_ excited!"

The older concubine, the redhead, just stared at the younger girl and shook her head. "We need to get this show on the road."

Was all this happening? Until a few hours prior, she had thought of her relationship with Pan as something extremely private and secret, something she dared not breathe a word to anyone. Now, it seemed she had been very wrong. If thousands were coming, then that meant he had many friends. They had to know who he was _. What a_ _revelation!_ "Shit!" she said and sat down, feeling a little overwhelmed.

The redhead spoke, "Madam, you are marrying the Master. This is the most important event of all time for us who follow him."

"Follow him?" she mouthed softly. "You mean ... Pan? Right?"

"Yes. That is one of his names."

"Okay ..."

The blonde was still dancing around the room with Jenny's wedding dress. And the redhead yelled at her to put it down before she tore it.

Jenny stood. "I think I'll go call my mother, now," she said.

"Hurry, Madam," the blonde said, having ceased her dancing and laid Jenny's dress across the bed. "We have a lot to do to prepare you."

"I will. But, do you know if there is the possibility of someone giving my mother a ride?"

"No problem. Beelzebub will see to it. Satan has put him in charge of everything."

Jenny sat down again, heavily, this time. "Is that who Pan really is?"

"Yes, Madam," the redhead said. "Don't tell me you are surprised."

She blew out air. "Guess I have suspected. And ... I always thought that Beelzebub and Satan to be one and the same person."

"Oh no!" The blonde waved a pale hand in the air. _"No_ _one is as powerful as Satan."_

"In all due respect – with the exception of one."

"Ohhhh, Madam. We are never permitted to mention the other. And, with all due respect to you, as well, since you are marrying the Master, I would suggest you forget about ... well ... I'm not going to say it."

The redhead took up one of the black slippers and polished off the toe with the cuff of her white sleeve. "To mention the name would bring dishonor to the Master – especially after you are his wife."

"Yes. I can see where that might be a bit of a problem," Jenny reflected.

The older girl placed the slipper back down. "We would be whipped mercilessly for uttering his name."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Madam," the petite blonde nodded in agreement.

Jenny decided not to burden them with any more questions after that. She felt she might not like a lot, if not all, of the answers. She went to call her mother.

"You're what? You're getting married!" Mattie screeched, unbelieving, "Tonight?"

It made Jenny feel kind of good to hear such happiness in her mother's voice. It had been a long time -- since her dad was alive -- that she had heard her mother express such delight. "Yes, Mom."

"To that nice gentleman, David?"

Now, there was a twinge of guilt. "No. Not to David." She wished her mother hadn't mentioned his name. Yet, she wasn't surprised her mother had assumed that. But she just wanted to forget. She had to.

"Then ... who? I had no clue you'd been dating anyone else."

"Let's let it be a surprise, Mom. Someone will pick you up." She looked at her servants questioningly, with her palm up.

The redhead answered, "I imagine between ten and eleven p.m., Madam."

"Between ten and eleven, Mom."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"That late?"

"Yes."

Mattie sighed with a moan. "That is kind of late for my old body. But for something so important ... all right," she said with determination. "I will certainly be ready. This is one wedding I have no intention of missing, if I can help it. Doesn't matter, I guess, what time it takes place. Or that I haven't had time to shop for something appropriate to wear," she added with a somewhat disgruntled but accepting tone.

"That's the spirit, Mom." Jenny put her cell phone in her purse and turned to the concubines. They were observing her as though they weren't happy about something. "What?" she asked with a shrug.

They explained to her that though she had washed her hair and bathed, it wasn't good enough.

She had to be washed in some special exotic herbs they had brought. After taking a deep whiff of the wonderful aromas, she agreed and took another bath in warm water sprinkled with sea salt for purification.

After the bath, she was generously rubbed down with an oil that's scent was absolutely fantastic. For a better word, she thought, almost divine. It was very similar to the way Pan smelled, only more feminine.

All of her undergarments were black silk, right down to her bikini panties. She couldn't help smile at the little star embroidered with silver thread right in the crotch. "Interesting," she said. And the girls chuckled.

Finally dressed, it was time to do Jenny's hair. The girls brushed and styled it, letting it fall in lovely ringlets across her shoulders and down her back. Last came the flowers and black veil. Even she was amazed when she glimpsed herself in the mirror. She went up to it. She was actually beautiful! Something she had never thought of herself. But there was so much black! "I thought virgins were supposed to wear white on their wedding day?"

"No," the oldest concubine said. "You are marrying the Master. His colors are black and red. And it is wedding night. Not day. His hours are the dark ones."

"I stand corrected. Guess I am just not thinking with all the excitement and attention."

"Yes!" The honey blonde remarked breathlessly, "There's not a one of us who wouldn't love to trade positions with you."

"Hush! Natasha," the redhead scolded. "If the Master was to hear you, he'd be furious."

She scrunched slightly. "Oops!"

"She's new. Please forgive her?"

"Oh?" Jenny eyed her curiously. "Why are you \--?"

"In the service of the Master?"

"Yes. I suppose that is what I mean."

"Oh ... I killed my parents."

Jenny was taken aback, stunned. She would have never dreamed such an innocent looking young woman could be guilty of such a terrible crime.

"Shot them both between the eyes while they were asleep," the older girl offered.

"Oh!"

"What can I say? I was bad," she said and giggled.

"Don't worry. She won't be giggling long, Madam. Not when she realizes that this servitude is forever."

"Well ... it's not so bad," Natasha insisted.

"You've only been with us for a week, girl. Wait until you've been with him for a few hundred years, like me."

"A few hundred years," Jenny said. "You don't look a day over twenty one."

"I quit ageing when I crossed over, Madam."

"Oh ... then you've both been human?"

"Right," she replied. "Anyway, we haven't time for this -- with no disrespect meant towards you, Madam -- nonsense. And since I am sure you are curious, I stabbed my husband in the back because he wouldn't give me money for material to make a new dress. And my name is Choleen," she said all in one breath.

"That's an interesting name. Well, I truly feel I know you two better. And I honestly never thought that anyone would ever wish they were me. It just never occurred to me. Not even now. I'm sorry. This must be awkward for you. I know it is for me."

"Do not apologize, Madam," Natasha said. "We are mere servants. We made our mistakes. We know our place."

"Well ... glad to hear you say that," Choleen said and turned to Jenny. "It is true. It is not fitting or proper for you to apologize to us."

With open hands, thumbs down, Jenny reached back and pulled her long tresses off her shoulders, leaving her hair falling behind her back, almost upsetting the headdress of roses. She was trying hard to process everything with an open mind. She had made her bed, now she had to lie in it. All of this was so new. It appeared that she was now considered some kind of royalty. Definitely, it would take some getting used to.

Natasha jumped up and straightened the headdress for Jenny.

"Thank you."

"Please. Do not thank me, Madam. Just doing my job."

Jenny could see the youthful spark still lived in the girls eyes. And there was a look of admiration and envy. "Well ... I don't see any harm in thanking you, anyway."

"Yes, Madam," she responded and curtsied slightly.

Upon beholding the suave chauffeur in black, Mattie's mouth gaped wide. She'd never been in the presence of such a sophisticated gentleman.

"I assume the lady is ready?" he said, offering his arm.

"Why ... yes! Thank you!" She quickly locked her door, turned and accepted his arm, and he escorted her to the highly-polished black Rolls. She had to pinch herself to make certain she wasn't dreaming. Did she feel like Cinderella? Or what?

After she was comfortably seated on cushioned, red-leather seats, he bowed, closed her door, then took his place behind the wheel. "Whoever the gentleman is marrying my daughter ... he must be awfully wealthy," she commented, not caring if it proper or not.

"Yes, my lady. He is not only rich, he is _king_."

"King?" Had she heard him correctly? A vision of an Arabian sheikh came to her mind, someone very rich in oil.

"Yes, Madam."

There was a young soldier seated next to the chauffeur. A silver star was on the band of his hat and, on his shoulder, was a patch with SSS in silver thread, as well.

"Jenny said nothing about a king. King who?"

No reply came from the soldier, who smiled amusedly. He just shared glances with the driver. But after a few moments, the chauffeur replied, "We are not at liberty to say, my lady."

"Huh?" She was really confused. Why couldn't they tell her? She tentatively rubbed the back of her neck. Normally she was in bed asleep by now. "You can tell me where it is taking place, though?"

"Reliant Stadium."

" _The_ Reliant Stadium? Goodness! Why such a big place?"

"So there will be room for the Master's guests, my lady. He's invited several thousand. And there's your choir and guards."

Once more her mouth was agape. She was too dumbfounded to ask any more questions.

Jenny was incredibly nervous. It was eleven-fifteen and she and the concubines were ready for the big event. She wrung her hands and paced the floor. Natasha paced the floor right along with her, while Choleen sat quietly on the bed and observed. Jenny had no idea where she was going to live, no inkling of what the future held. Nothing! Why hadn't she considered all this before? Why was she just now doing it? She shook her head at laughed at herself. This was all so insane -- Because she was so crazy about _Him_. That was why.

If she so much as got a hair out of place, one of the girls was right there to straighten it for her. Their overanxious attention and attitude to please wasn't helping her nerves, either. She hoped she wouldn't grow to resent it, though she knew it wasn't their fault.

Circumstances being what they were, knowing there would be no such thing as peace of mind, David decided the only way things might be tolerable would be to stay with his folks for a while. He thought how ironic it was that it was Valentine's and his girl was marrying someone else. Tomorrow was the day he had originally planned to "pop" the question. But someone else -- even possibly the man from his dreams -- had beaten him to it.

John had gone out to get hamburgers. When he came back, he burst through the front door, extremely excited. David took the sack of fries his dad handed over and asked him what the matter was.

"You're not going to believe this. I just drove by Jenny's and there's a classy limo parked outside and two husky soldiers – although I am not certain what branch of the armed services they are – standing guard."

"What?"

"Their uniforms are black from their heads to their toes. And on the back of the limo is a silver pentagram – a star the circumference of a large tire."

"My God! Jenny's fallen in with a bunch of witches!"

John shook his head and told his son that he was afraid it was more serious than that. David asked him to explain himself, and John confessed that he hadn't told him earlier, because he hadn't wanted to frighten him, but the stranger in church that morning had scared the hell out of him. The man had, indeed, been the reason he had changed his sermon. Also, David hadn't been aware of it, but when David wasn't watching, the man had kept his eyes on Jenny practically the whole time. And Jenny was watching him, too. "She knows him, David! Very well. I'm sure of it."

"Oh!"

"That cold wind that blasted through the front doors --!" John shook his head again. "That was uncanny. Then he stepped in. You witnessed how everyone stared and gaped at him."

It was as though someone had bolted David over. "That's it!" Then he mumbled something about a cold wind in Jenny's apartment.

John looked at his son, quizzically. "What?"

"Dad, I knew I remembered seeing him before. That face. That unforgettable face. He's the man in my dreams! In fact, I had the dream again just a few nights ago – or was it last night? But it was him. I know it."

John sighed and slumped into a dining room chair. "Son, I am afraid this may sound totally nuts and probably insane, but I honestly believe he's the Antichrist. Maybe even Satan in the flesh."

Every ounce of stubborn hope David had still feebly held drained from his shaken body. "Ohhhh ..." He too, dropped heavily into the closest chair.

"One more thing. You couldn't see it from your perspective, but he was wearing a star under his shirt. A silver star. He even had the audacity to slip it out once while I was preaching and rub it on his tie, polishing it.

"Yeah ... that is nervy. But why Jenny, Dad? Do you suppose there's anything we can do for her?" But he didn't say it with hope, more in despair.

"Afraid not. Not likely, anyway. If she has chosen to marry him. Which, evidently, she has."

"How can a mortal woman marry a supernatural being? Isn't that impossible?"

"Not according to the Bible. I see you've never read the sixth chapter of Genesis where it mentions the sons of God coming down and marrying human women. The women bore children by these beings. They were giants. Goliath was one of the last. Scripture refers to them as men of renown."

"I thought God only had one son?"

"These particular sons of God are angels. Angels are referred to as sons of God in other passages, as well. In Job, for instance, in the first chapter."

"Then Jenny can marry him and bear him children?"

"Afraid so."

"How can she love Satan, Dad? If that is who he is. How can she?'

"Don't forget he's the master deceiver, the master of all lies. He can do and be anything he wants except God, himself."

David bobbed his head, listening. There wasn't anything else left that mattered for him to do.

"And that is what makes him so evil – his jealousy."

"Do you really think he's truly jealous, Dad?'

"Yes. I do. There is only one more powerful than he, like I said. Don't underestimate what we are dealing with here. He is the second most powerful being in the universe, in creation, second only to God."

"Jenny is weak in her faith. We have both known that for a long time. Yet, she is sweet and innocent ... and very pretty. She would probably be very easy for him to deceive. And probably a perfect candidate for whatever he has in store."

More than likely she is or believes she is in love with him. And, in all probability, believes he loves her. What woman wouldn't desire him? You saw him," John gesticulated. "There wasn't a female in that church, including your own mother, who wasn't in awe of him. And," he shrugged, "maybe he does love, Jenny?"

"You seriously don't believe that, do you?"

"I think it's possible. Yeah. He might be capable of loving someone, especially someone sweet and innocent, everything he isn't and can never be. Maybe he needs her to fill that empty void, that terrible loneliness he must surly suffer, knowing he is doomed forever."

"Dad," David sighed heavily and leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, "if someone else had told me you would be talking like this, I would have laughed in their face. I wouldn't have believed them. Well, if this has to happen, I hope Satan does love her." He broke down, letting loose bitter tears.

John got up and went over to his son and held him for a long time, listening to his mournful sobs and the dull silence of the rest of the house. He hated the helplessness of the way he felt, the inability to really do anything about the situation. But, if this was meant to be, there was nothing else he could do but pray.

XI

It seemed forever to Jenny but her ride finally pulled up in front of the apartment building. This time, her chauffeur was someone other than Beelzebub. Six handsome soldiers were with the new gentleman, fashionably dressed in black uniforms with silver buttons down the right side of their coats, silver stars on the bands of their hats, and the letters SSS monogrammed on each one's left shoulder. All wore holsters and guns, reminding her of the soldier she had seen in the deep shadows across the street a few evenings before. Now, she realized Pan had planted him to guard her.

This was his army!

How many more surprises were in store? She only had to step outside to find out. Three sleek black cars were lined up alongside the curb. The longest, a limousine with its exterior polished to a mirror shine, was parked in the middle. She was led to it by the two concubines. After she was safely in her seat, the concubines were escorted into the last car and ducked into it with two soldiers. Two more soldiers settled into the first car, and the remaining two climbed in the seat behind jenny. She was seated alone in the middle, and her chauffeur was alone in front.

Just as the chauffeur started the car, six shining motorcycles came forward from somewhere behind, moved in ahead of the first car and proceeded to lead the small but impressive procession.

She felt like the First Lady. Definitely, she was just as well-guarded, maybe even more so. It was as though she were a child seeing a Christmas tree for the first time. Impressive! She couldn't help but wonder what her neighbors were thinking, if they were awake and peering out their windows – which they probably were. All the cars and motorcycles weren't exactly quiet as they pulled away.

Jenny enjoyed the luxurious ride into Houston with a sense of wonderment and elation, daydreaming about what her future entailed. Surely it was going to be something she would have never, previously, dreamed possible. Excitement was not the word for what she felt. She was sure she was in some grand fairy tale. It was as though her spirit had sailed to the very stars.

The chauffeur eased the limo up to the double line of soldiers dressed in their array and waiting on both sides of the entrance. As the car came to a full stop, Beelzebub was there to open the door for Jenny. He offered her his arm, which Jenny graciously accepted, feeling all giddy, then waited for the concubines to come take her black train. Beelzebub then led them down the crimson carpet that had been rolled out for her and through the soldiers standing in salute, and to the open doorway. There, just inside, he requested she wait there until he returned.

Nervously, Jenny scanned the crowd; everyone was straining their necks to gain a peek at her. People from all walks of life and some others, not exactly human, all staring at her. _Where did they all come from? Who were they?_

Mattie had been waiting in her front row seat for almost an hour, but she was so enthralled in everything that was transpiring, she hardly knew time passed. Important looking people kept coming up to shake her hand and to introduce themselves. Some were senators, some congressmen and even the governor! And there were some other very strange looking people.

It even struck her that they didn't look quite human. But she tried to shrug off that thought. Not a one told her who her daughter was marrying, though. The suspense was driving her nuts.

A mammoth black altar in the form of a stepped pyramid had been erected in the center of the field. A torch burned high at each corner of its base. Standing off to Mattie's right was a large choir of several hundred, she estimated about five hundred, adorned in black velvet robes with high red collars – she thought of Bella, whatever his name was, in that old Dracula movie. All were holding long black, tapered candles and wearing silver stars around their necks.

The stately man who had picked Mattie up from her house walked down the long red carpet that had been laid up to the altar and knocked on a door at the base. Mattie gasped when she caught a good view of the man who stepped out to speak with him. Effulgent blond hair shimmered, reflecting reds and yellows from the many torches that burned around. It hung in soft whispers just below his ears. He wore a cape of black satin with a high collar lined in scarlet velvet. The cape was cast aside to where it hung loosely over his left shoulder, sweeping the floor.

His powerful bronze chest was bare, except for a heavy silver chain with a five-pointed, inverted star. The star was silver and sparkled with many diamonds. His skintight pants were satin or silk; they, too, were black. His muscles flexed every time he made the slightest move. She was almost embarrassed by the snug fit of his pants.

"Goodness! Oh mercy ... mercy ... mercy!" But she couldn't refrain from staring. He was fascinating!

An obsidian leather belt held his fine waste. In the middle of the buckle was a large silver S.

_His eyes!_ They were so bright a blue they seemed to be afire. And he was looking at her! She couldn't believe it. The chauffeur was leading him her way! She swallowed hard, practically holding her breath until he extended his large but fine hand.

"Hello, Mattie," he spoke softly. "I understand you are Jenny's mother?"

"Yes! I am." Her voice was gravely. She could barely speak. He's so tall! She thought. So handsome! He smelled like the fresh spring morning, deep in a forest of pine and sage. "And I understand that you are a king?" she said awkwardly. "May I ask of what country?'

He and Beelzebub shared glances, then he turned his attention back to her and an eyebrow went up. He smiled graciously but appeared slightly amused. "I take it Jenny hasn't told you?"

"No. She hasn't."

His mile broadened into a silent laugh. "Then ... since she is your daughter, I will let her tell you when she so chooses."

She couldn't believe her ears. "What? Can't you tell me?"

He looked at Beelzebub who spoke on cue, "It is nearly time, Master. Shall I fetch your lady?"

He chuckled deeply and responded, "Yes! You may _fetch_ her. If the maidens are ready to carry her train? I will position myself on the altar and wait for her."

Mattie held out a tentative hand. "Wait!"

Again the eyebrow went up slightly. "Yes?"

"Won't you, at least, tell me your name?"

"Why Pan, of course." He turned and walked away, heading swiftly up the altar steps to wait for Jenny. She was all that mattered. He really didn't care what her mother thought.

"What?" Mattie said to herself, for no one paid her notice. Was he trying to be cute? If so, she wasn't sure she appreciated his sense of humor. Just because he was obviously very rich and handsome didn't give him the right to be cocky. After all, he was marrying her daughter. There shouldn't be any reason why he couldn't tell her his real name.

Loud music from a synthesizer suddenly filled the stadium, a melody Jenny thought she had heard before. She wasn't positive of the title, but "Hell" was in it. It was a strangely provocative piece in A minor. She knew of the key because of previous violin lessons as a child. She thought the exotic melody very suitable for the occasion.

Twelve young girls, ranging from six to ten years of age, came up and took Jenny's train. A tremendous swish took everyone's attention; a big fire had been lit behind the altar. Now Beelzebub, who had changed into a blood-red suit, came up and took Jenny's arm.

"The Master is ready, Madam."

Jenny took another quick glance around the crowd and gulped. "Here goes ..."

"First we wait for the soldiers," he said, indicating towards the approaching men with a nod of his head.

Rhythmic stamping of marching boots joined in with the swelling music of the synthesizer; the soldiers who had been standing outside were now passing Jenny and her escort. Each man shouldered his polished rifle, holding the butt with one hand and holding salute to their Master with their other.

They filed steadily and uniformly along until they were lined up on both sides of the crimson carpet. They stomped their feet loudly, twice in unison, before coming to attention, each holding salute and gaze upon Pan.

The music stopped. The choir began chanting softly in Latin. Jenny had no idea what they were singing, but it was an eerie, Gregorian-type chant. But something told her it definitely was not Catholic.

With a slight tug to let her know it was time, Beelzebub slowly led Jenny down the carpet; and, as she looked up at the top of the altar, Pan moved forward to the edge. The bright fire blazed behind him, outlining his majestic form. She felt so little, so insignificant, as her escort assisted her in ascending the altar steps.

Pan gazed down proudly; eyes vivid with love. Yes! It _was love._ Jenny was certain. Beelzebub let loose of her arm and Pan took over her shaking hand and led her to the center of the stage. There was a hush, a sudden incredible quiet, with a profound sense of expectation as Beelzebub stepped forward and raised his long arms.

The young girls were dismissed by a nod from Pan. They stepped slowly down the altar and formed a circle around its base, holding hands. The soldiers aimed their rifles in the air and fired six rounds. Whey they finished, Beelzebub ordered them to stand at attention, and then motioned for the choir to begin again. It was still a chant, but the words and rhythm had changed tempo to a soft, shuddering whisper.

With a slight nod of his head, Pan indicated to Beelzebub to continue. Beelzebub took a silver chalice filled with some kind of smoking beverage and handed it over. Pan took a long drink and gave it over to Jenny. She sipped the strange spinach-green liquid, decided it wasn't so bad, maybe even delicious -- definitely intoxicating -- and proceeded to gulp down the rest. With a raised brow and a smile of approval, Pan remained silent as she returned the empty chalice back to him. He, in turn, gave it over to Beelzebub.

Natasha ascended the altar steps, carrying a velvet crimson pillow with silver tassels. A silver dagger, or athame as she later learned, lay across it. Jenny wondered what it was for and hoped it wasn't for some kind of sacrifice. Already, she swayed, tipsy from the wonderful beverage.

Always knowing Jenny's thoughts when near, Pan nodded with reassurance. Natasha handed the pillow and dagger over to Beelzebub. He raised it high above his head and spoke something in Latin, while the choir continued their soft chant. The second in command then turned and faced the couple. Pan held out his right arm, fist up. Beelzebub made a slash across Pan's wrist. Jenny understood that she was to do the same. With some apprehension, she tentatively held out her arm and tried not to flinch.

Mattie was horrified at such a wedding this was. It certainly wasn't Christian. It was downright pagan! She nervously looked over the crowd. Everyone appeared to be spellbound. And they did not seem the least bit surprised by the strange events. Who were all these people, anyway? What kind of people were they? The governor? Senators? What on earth was this \--? Some kind of nightmarish joke!

Pan placed his bleeding wrist to Jenny's. Beelzebub took a scarlet scarf and tied the couple's wrists together. Jenny recalled seeing Indians do this in a movie once. The same had been with their wrists.

She didn't know if it was from the strong drink or from her blood mixing with Pan's, but she felt a new kind of strength and warmth rising within. As she stood so very close to Pan, their eyes locked; she understood then that it was not only their blood blending, but their very souls. She was literally becoming part of him, and he, her. Becoming one together. The old Jenny was leaving forever – and a new one was being born!

Beelzebub hushed the choir and once more an incredible silence befell the stadium. He spoke: "Friends, members of the king's realm," he nodded to Mattie, "and other guests of honor, we are gathered here on the Eve of Lupercalia, which is in honor of our king, to witness his marriage to this young woman, Jenny Logan. As you all know ..." his eyes went to Mattie again, "most of you, anyway, our king has reigned for thousands of years, but this is his first and only marriage."

Trembling hands flew to Mattie's face and she gasped. "Did he say _thousands_ of years?" No one paid heed to her question as she scanned the crowd of so many witnesses, the multitude of guests. This was, by far, too expensive of a display to be a charade, and everyone was so serious. This was no joke.

"Here! Witnessed by you," another nod, "honored guests," Beelzebub continued, "that this one Jennifer Logan ... now Jennifer Satanail, will reign queen at his majesty's side forever. She will be subject only to his majesty, our beloved king. If any mortal or immortal desires or even tries to interfere with this royal union, by trying to seduce our queen, he will ultimately be destroyed by Pan, himself."

Mattie thought that surely she was hallucinating. He couldn't have said immortal man. And was Satanail a form of Satan? But he couldn't be. Not the real Satan!

Beelzebub gave his signal to the choir and they began their chanting anew. He then proceeded to untie the couple's wrists. Blood still flowed; the cuts had been fairly deep. Jenny wondered if she was going to bleed to death. But Pan took her wrists, one at a time, and held them to his open mouth until the bleeding stopped, then he did the same with his own.

Beelzebub handed Pan a linen. Pan wiped the blood from his mouth and returned it. The second in command tipped his head slightly and tucked the linen in his side pocket to dispose of later.

Another girl ascended the steps carrying a gold chalice. Jenny hoped it wasn't more of that drink. But it wasn't the same brew. She was already on her way to being very drunk. The veil she was wearing covered only here eyes, making it convenient for the ceremony, as she quickly learned. Otherwise, she would be raising it constantly in order to drink. As she tasted the newness of the second brew, she realized it was a red wine mixed with some strange, aromatic herbs and possibly other ingredients. She knew not what. Now, in only seconds, she was really warm and giddy.

The crowd no longer mattered. All she cared about was Pan. He was so handsome, so desirable. She couldn't wait until the ceremony was over to consummate their marriage, to make it complete. And to know, at last, what it was like to be a whole woman.

Pan returned the chalice to Beelzebub and took Jenny in his arms. Once more there was absolute silence as Pan, with his female, stepped forward to speak. "Here is my wife and your queen!" He held her hand high. Then, in his most powerful voice, he said, " _Honor her!_ "

All was hazy and dream-like. Jenny's vision grew fuzzy fast. She thought she saw tears in Pan's blue eyes. Was he crying? By the time their embrace was broken, Natasha was back with a different red satin pillow with odd little diamond triangles composed of circles looped together embroidered over its surface. Jenny vaguely remembered hearing someplace that they were triquatras. The beautiful handcrafted pillow held an equally impressive star necklace like Pan's, only smaller and with a lighter chain. A wedding ring with the same diamond-studded star was placed by the necklace.

Pan slipped the ring on her finger, then took the necklace with the pentagram and hung it around her neck. He nodded to Beelzebub, who then raised his arms. Rifles fired six more rounds, their sounds reverberating through the entire world, it seemed to Jennifer. The haunting melody of "Hell" rose once more from the synthesizer and Pan took Jenny's hand and led her down the sloping carpeted steps, while the young girls fell back to give them room and the soldiers stood at full attention.

Mattie watched with more than mixed emotions as her only daughter, only child, descended the altar steps with the mysterious man she had just married. Eyes filled with tears, she waved to Jenny with her handkerchief, all the while, wishing Jim, Jenny's father, could have been there, although, he probably would not have understood such a strange ceremony, either. And he, very likely, would have been upset by it.

Jim had been gone fifteen years. He had died in a car wreck one night on his way home from the garage where he had worked as a mechanic. At this moment in time, Mattie missed Jim more than she had since right after his death. Although Jenny had been married to Tom for a short while, even then, Mattie had not felt as lost as she now did.

There was something very wrong about this man who referred to himself as Pan. It scarred – terrified – her and there had been no warning, no time to get to know her son-in-law beforehand. It was too late, now. Nothing she could do. And with the kind of political power he obviously had, she doubted if anyone could have done anything.

How could this have happened to her daughter? How had she come to even know this man? These were questions she had a feeling she might never know the answers to.

The tall, dark-haired chauffeur, the same man who had officiated Jenny's wedding, came up to Mattie and informed her that another chauffeur would be driving her home. He and two soldier escorts led her through the throng and out of the stadium and to the waiting limousine and other chauffeur.

Pan smiled at his bride who had fallen asleep by his side. She had performed well at the ceremony, even though she had been frightened. He held immense pride and love for her, and he was very anxious to show her just how much he did love her; only, what he had in store for her afterwards, he knew she definitely would not like. It was something that had to be. There was no way out of it, not if he was going to sire his son.

Quietly, he eased the Toyota rental into the park and around the winding dirt road to where the trailer waited. He glanced across the clearing where the picnic tables were; then, roughly a thousand feet further, to where the trees were sufficiently thick to hide the view, he could see the red and yellow glow of the campfire burning bright. His people were ready – waiting for the true consummation of their Master's marriage.

Part of him felt a deep sadness, a nagging sorrow that he was going to have to do such a hideous thing to the only woman he loved. Then, there was the other side of him, the half he was so notorious for, that was wild with anticipation and excitement for what was about to take place.

He woke Jenny gently with a kiss. She was still very much under the effects of the wine and herbs. It would not be wearing off for several hours. Though he had suffered no influence from them, he had known that she would.

When the time came he would have her drugged even more, to ease the pain he knew she would suffer and to help her forget, as much as possible, all that would befall her. She was coming to. He lifted her in his arms and carried her inside the trailer.

Jenny assured Pan she was capable of standing, and he let her down. The black velvet walls and bright red furniture had a startling affect on her, helping her to clear her head somewhat. Her hazel eyes went to the king-size bed that awaited them. She recalled the night he had set her on fire merely with kisses; she wondered what was coming now. She was thrilled ... and scared.

A bottle of the finest imported champagne to be had sat cooling in a bucket of ice on the end of the table by the bed. Alongside the bucket were two champagne glasses. He popped the cork out of the bottle and poured her drink first and watched it bubble down for a couple of seconds, then did the same for himself. "To us!" They drank the fizzing liquid down. He poured another round, then removed his cape.

Likewise, Jenny rid herself of her veil and flowers and laid them on the dresser. "I just realized," she said, eyes hazy, "these are all the clothes I have with me."

Mild amusement flickered in his bright eyes. "Not to worry, my sweet," he said in perfect imitation of Jack Palance's voice. "I take care of everything."

"Yeah. Guess you do. I seem to keep forgetting."

"You will learn soon enough. I forgive you this time."

It struck her as odd, even in her state of stupor, that he should use the word forgive.

He read her mind. "Just a matter of speech, dear Jenny." The twinkling lights in his eyes changed; more important things were on his mind. He took her shoulders and pulled her close and announced, "Tonight, Jenny, you will conceive my son."

"Huh? So soon?" The thought, idea, of having children with him had not occurred to her. For some reason she had assumed that they wouldn't be able to have any.

Again he caught her thoughts. "Do you think I am incapable of impregnating you?" He was indignant. Was he not known as the most virile being in all of creation? "You forget who you have married again!"

"What?" she sputtered, shocked by his reaction. What happened to that debonair calmness? "I guess, I really— ."

Without a warning he kissed her with a fierceness he had not revealed to her before. When he broke their embrace, he said, "Don't you know, my sweet, that I am the prince of passion? Of lust? Of desire? And you think I cannot get you pregnant?"

She had unwittingly hurt his pride. She stared at him, not knowing what to say. Before they had ever made love, she had angered him. She felt stupid. She found her voice, "I really didn't think you weren't capable –"

He hushed her with another kiss, burning her lips with his wanton desire. He ripped the front of her beautiful gown and tore it from her. She stepped back, almost falling. Now she was seeing his other side. Was he always going to be like this? Maybe worse? It was too late to run.

Her thoughts and new found fear stopped him; he forced himself to calm. She really had not meant to insult him. This wasn't how he had planned or intended for things to be. Not their first encounter, anyway. He reached for her. "Jenny ... my sweet. Forgive me. I guess I lost my temper momentarily. You know it was pride that got me in trouble in the first place." He found it hard and completely out of his character to say it, but he said it anyhow, "I am sorry."

Her gaze tread softly across his handsome face. What was that about his pride getting him in trouble? She brushed the question aside. He seemed to really mean he was sorry.

"Now it is my turn to forgive you." She forced a smile, but she was still a bit uneasy. She finished pulling off her torn gown and removed her slip and bra.

He watched, anxious eyes blazing. They fell to her breast; then without his moving an inch or flexing a muscle, the lights shut down to a dark crimson glow. She sat on the side of the bed and waited in anticipation.

He stood admiring her, drinking in her lovely curves, a body that would never grow old, now that she was his and under his power.

She gazed up at him, her eyes questioning the thoughts that lurked behind that enticing smile of his, that alluring grin. She asked, "Why do you want me to conceive tonight?"

"Very simple. Should you decide to leave me when the year is finished, I will, at least, have my son. I promised to let you go, and I intend to stand by that promise. That is, if you _do_ leave. However, you will not take my son. I am not that generous."

Here was another shocking surprise. "But he will be my son, too!"

"I am fully aware of that, Jennifer." He grinned smugly. "The choice is ultimately up to you, my dear."

"That's not fair!" she snapped, her anger pushing away some of the drowsiness of the drugs. "You didn't tell me that before!"

"My sweet ..." he said and shook his head slowly. "Tsk ... tsk. If I had, it would have influenced your decision to marry me. Wouldn't it? It was a difficult decision for you as it was. Was it not? And before you get yourself too worked up over something that hasn't happened as yet, why don't you give me a chance? You have no idea as to whether you're going to want to leave me or not."

That made her think for a moment. He was right. It was premature to worry about something that had not yet transpired. The fact remained, they had not made love.

He moved in on her. And she soon forgot her anger and worries as he smothered her neck and face with ardent caresses. She responded eagerly with her own craving and desire building rapidly. She ran her fingers lightly across his strong back, feeling the smooth warmth of his skin and muscles underneath. He kissed her and kissed her. She responded with her own need, anxious to experience his manhood. Her fingers played with his golden locks. He fondled her, driving her deliciously mad. He eased back on the bed and straddled her, slowly and gently claiming his bride.

The pain was intense. She panicked, realizing it was unbearable and tried to pull away. She cried aloud, pleading with him to stop. Surely she was going to die! Nothing ever hurt so much! She knew she was passing out – then suddenly the pain was gone. She opened her eyes and searched deeply into his, and was instantly caught up into his captivating soul, into a resplendent ice-blue abyss. And she was swept away on wings of unspoken passion.

Hurtling at the speed of light, he carried her far off into the heavens, into a celestial realm of twinkling stars and gossamer clouds adrift. The universe with its galaxies, nebulae and other worlds was theirs to behold. Higher and higher she soared with him, losing herself completely in his eyes, his soul. And at last she experienced what she had waited for ... for so terribly long. She trembled. Then they were slipping, slowly gliding downwards to the earth below. And then they were back in their bed. He held her fast while their bodies cooled and he tenderly kissed her.

"Do you still love me?"

"Are you kidding?" she said breathlessly. "I can never leave you!"

He chuckled deeply. "So ... my sweet, you like being screwed?"

"What?" After such an unspeakable and beautiful thing, he had the nerve to say something so tasteless. _"You_ arrogant sonovabitch! _You knew_ I was going to feel this way!"

He kissed her quickly.

She pulled away and pounded his shoulders with her fists. "You rat! You knew all along!"

"Calm down, my sweet." He grinned from ear to ear. "But you did love every minute of it, did you not?"

"You're a devil!"

He fell back and roared with laughter. "Jenny ... my sweet. I _am_ the devil!"

It was as though someone had hit her in the face with a brick. "No ... you couldn't ..."

His laughter ceased abruptly. "Jenny ... it has been in your face all along. I have been revealing it to you in the gentlest way I can. And you know it. You have been deluding yourself. But deep down you have known."

"No," she said quietly, realizing he did speak the truth. He had been showing her who he was. She just hadn't wanted to admit it. The name Satan had been verbalized more than once. She had avoided it. Pan was acceptable to her. Yet, deep down, she had known."

"But I _do_ love you, Jenny. I really do."

She wanted, needed, so much to believe in him, to believe that she had not thrown away her soul for nothing. And he had actually wanted to marry her -- a fact that she had found more than awesome.

"I do," he insisted.

This was the same man who had cried at their wedding. Again, the same man who had angered so easily at a simple misunderstanding.

He could be the gentlest, most loving, caring, individual one second; the next, just the opposite.

He was so totally unpredictable. And after their love making, that wonderful, surrealistic trip to the stars, she knew she would now be a slave forever to his slightest touch. A mere caress from him was all it took to set her soaring. "You really do?"

His face flushed crimson. _"Yes!_ I may be the father of lies. But I do not lie to the only woman I have ever loved. I would not have made you my wife, if I didn't. You are the only female to ever have that ..."

"Honor?" she finished for him.

"Yes! I was going to say commitment. But, if that is how you wish to take it? It is an honor. I have thousands of concubines who would love to be in your place – to be the wife of the Master."

"And so I've been told," she said, then wished she hadn't. It wasn't her desire to get any of the concubines in trouble. "Why me? With all those concubines? Why would you want or even need a wife?'

He had read her thoughts on the concubines. "Don't worry. They will not get in trouble this time, since it is your wish. Remember this, however. Concubines mean nothing to me. They were whores to begin with. That's how the majority of them ended up with me in the first place. Harlots. But you, my sweet, you were a virgin ... an innocent, trusting virgin. Sweet, honest, everything I can't be. You are the only one who might be able to save me. That is an ulterior motive to be sure. But I really do love you." His facial coloring returned to normal. "You make me feel whole. You are the only one who ever has. I need you. More than you will _ever_ realize."

She pondered the fiery lights in those blue, blue eyes; maybe he was speaking truthfully. Maybe ...

"I _am_ speaking the truth, my sweet." He wasn't lying, but he knew she wasn't going to believe him in just a little while ... for a very long time, perhaps never.

He definitely did not want to lose her, but he was all too aware that he probably would. He would have his son. And there was only one way that was possible, even it could easily mean losing her. That knowledge had been the reason he had given her the option of going free in one year. He did not wish to keep her against her will. It was her love he wanted and needed, not a prisoner. He had enough of those.

Eerie chanting suddenly captured Jenny's undivided attention. Why it sounded very much like the choir? She swung her legs around to the side of the bed to get up. All the while, the mantra grew louder. There seemed to be an urgency about it. She looked questioningly to her husband. No way did she like the expression on his face. This was something he knew about! A cold chill of pure, undiluted fear seized her. "What's going on? I thought we were alone?" She grabbed frantically for her clothes, clutching them to her breast.

"My sweet Jenny, you won't need those." He snatched them from her and tossed them aside.

The chanting had grown so loud that it throbbed in her ears. It came from the voices of hundreds of people. They – whoever they were – were right outside the trailer. Brilliant torches moved in parade, fiery streaks crossing the windows. "What are you doing? What are you up to?"

The only reply she received was a silent, stoic face and a barely detectable cold smile. He slipped quickly into his tight pants and put on his cape. Someone rapped twice on the door.

Jenny gathered up the top sheet from the bed to wrap herself, but he took that from her as well. She glared at him accusingly. "What kind of a husband are you?"

Offering no reason or explanation for his behavior, he simply went to the door and opened it. When he did, a gush of hot air from so many burning torches rushed in.

Beelzebub stepped up into the trailer. Pan's second in command was wearing a black hooded-robe and also carrying a flaming torch. "Everything is ready, Master," he said with a slight, respectful bow of his head.

Jenny scrambled backwards and onto the bed, trying to cover herself with her arms and hands, knowing she was not going to like whatever it was they had in store for her. "No!" she screamed as Beelzebub approached her. "Get away from me!" Pleadingly, she looked at her husband of only a short while. It was all too apparent that he had no intentions of helping her. _"You filthy pig!"_ For some idiotic reason, that outburst brought a swift recollection of the story in the Bible when Jesus sent demons into swine. But she didn't dwell on it.

Beelzebub and another of Pan's hooded followers took her by her arms and forced her out the door and into the crowd of chanting torch-bearers. None of their faces were visible: their hoods pulled forward, covering their foreheads. Some eyes could be seen, but mostly they were hidden in darkness, as well. And some that did show had a weird, unworldly glow about them. She realized that they weren't human.

She screamed for them to release her. They ignored her, hoisting her up over their heads, carrying her away from the trailer. She took one last desperate glance where Pan had stood. He had since disappeared. There was no one else to help her.

No one.

She squinted her eyes tight, fighting back heavy tears. This was her reward for denying her God. Whatever they were going to do to her, she deserved.

" _Jenny! Jenny!"_ David screamed and suddenly sprang to a sitting position. He was horribly cold and shaking violently. _They_ were doing something terrible to his Jenny. _"Jenny!"_ She was in serious trouble, something awful was happening to her. A stifling sense of foreboding enveloped him. And he felt totally helpless.

John and Helen were jarred awake by David's cries. "What the --?" John jumped up out of bed and rushed into his son's room. David looked as though he had met Mr. Death face to face. "Son! What's wrong?"

"Oh God! Dad! Something is happening to Jenny. I know it! I had this nightmare. Vision! Worse than a nightmare. They were ..." he couldn't say it. "They were ..."

John laid an arm around his boy and drew him close, hoping to comfort him, if possible. "What, Son?"

"They ... a crowd ... were carrying Jenny ... through ... through some woods ... dark woods. She was naked." He clutched his father's arm tightly. "Dad, there were torches everywhere. They were taking her to this altar ... Oh God!" He was sick to his stomach. He cupped his hands to his mouth and tore off for the bathroom.

XII

By himself in a lone section of the wood, the hideous transformation began. As the former archangel fixed ice-blue eyes on the white full moon, he wished there was some other way. But this was part of his curse, the curse he had received at his rebellion. The only way he could sire a son was in his grotesque form – half man, half-goat – a monster. Although the form heightened his lustful nature, it was a form he would rather Jenny never see.

As he grew in height and his feet transformed into cloven hooves, tears of remorse and self-hatred streamed down his handsome face, remorse that he had to do this unspeakable thing to the woman he loved. Coarse, heavy, wool-like hair covered his thighs, his torso. His head split in searing pain as goat-like horns sprout forth from his skull. Tears flowed faster as human ears became elfin. Then, with one loud bellow that reverberated through the night, the metamorphosis complete – he was truly Pan!

Jenny had been carried to the top of a high grassy knoll and tied to an altar. Pan's hooded followers were everywhere, in and out of the moving shadows, standing here and there and walking about, still holding those brightly flaming torches.

The only ones who seemed to not be staring at Jenny were Beelzebub and a couple of women who were preparing her for something. She assumed, sacrifice. One brought another chalice with the same intoxicating beverage she had drunk at her so-called wedding.

She defiantly refused it at first, but they forced it down her. Afraid of strangling, she finally swallowed. Maybe it was best she took it. It made things foggier, hazier.

What purpose was in all this, unless it was sacrifice? They had stripped her of her clothing, her pride, dignity and tied her naked to an altar, and in such a degrading position, legs apart, exposed to the whole world. It _was_ what she deserved. After all, had she not willingly copulated with _Him!_ Satan! Pan! Whoever he was!

Overhead, the Milky Way was brilliant. She stared at the starlit sky, figuring it was the last time she would see the celestial array. And she was surprised that the Milky Way shown so brightly in spite of the fullness of the white moon. There was no way she was going to ask God to forgive her. It would be an insult to the creator. No. This was what she deserved.

A stifling hush fell over the park as the clapping of hooves drew near the clearing. Even the nocturnal birds quieted their calls. No frogs were heard from a nearby pond. The only sound in the night air was the steady, rhythmic falling and crisp clomping of hooves on the barren bicycle trail – and her heavy breathing – as he drew near the altar.

Pan knew his chances of Jenny ever loving him again were slim, making his chances of her ever saving him even more slim, for she had to love him in order to save him. To have it all was too much to hope for. But part of him did.

First things came first – his son!

His people spread apart, allowing him room to pass through. He towered over all; his eight-foot stature casting a portentous shadow over Jenny and the altar.

Having heard the unmistakable sound of hooves, Jenny wondered who was approaching on horseback.

Beelzebub and the two women stood at the end of the altar at Jenny's feet. They bowed as Pan approached. "She is ready, Master," they said in unison.

Jenny craned her neck to look around and see who it was. For it did not sound like her husband. The voice was too deep, not unlike that of a large animal. When she recognized those unmistakable blue eyes and saw the monster her husband had become she screamed ... and screamed ... and screamed.

"Did you sedate her?" He asked in that inhuman voice.

"Yes, Master. Should we give her more?" Beelzebub asked.

"No. What you gave her will take hold soon."

She was still screaming when he came to the foot of the altar were she could see him clearly.

"Hello, my sweet," he mocked, his beastly nature more evident now.

She just wanted to get it over with. If they were going to kill her, she wanted them to hurry. She squint her eyes tight, not wanting to look at anything, especially him.

"Relax. It will be all over soon," one of the girls said.

The crowd took up their chanting again; at first, in that low, murmuring whisper, gradually growing louder and more intense, faster and faster, until the syllables were frenzied and blurred, incoherent to Jenny's human ears. She anticipated the plunge of the dagger, a long sharp knife tearing into her chest, the witch's athame cutting out her heart.

It didn't happen.

What were they stalling for? Why didn't they just get it over with? She simply wanted to die. She waited in expectation for her demise. It didn't come. She grew more and more groggy, extremely lightheaded, but she could still hear the frenzied chanting – Pan's followers moving, homing in for the kill.

Then, instead of a knife tearing into her chest, lungs and splitting her rib cage, something not unlike a red-hot poker drove between her legs.

She convulsed in agony, opening her eyes only long enough to see she was being ravished by the monster.

When it was over, without saying a word to anyone, Pan turned and fled into the wood.

Jenny blacked out.

Pan had to wait until dawn to make the transformation back to human form. He knew Beelzebub would stay with Jenny until he returned. She would sleep for hours anyway and, hopefully, she would forget some of the nightmare he had put her through. She would not forget enough, though.

He stared at his hairy limbs and cloven hooves. How he loathed this form. Hated it! There had been times when he had taken the form to frighten people he despised. And, sometimes, he did it to please his followers. For some sick reason, they always stood in awe of him when he was this half-man, half-goat. _He_ still hated it and what it stood for.

The first rays of golden sunlight crept upon the horizon. At last, he could change back into his humanoid form, the one he was created with – minus the wings.

Although he had once been the mightiest of all the angels, he was still the most beautiful when he wasn't in his satyr state. That had not changed.

Jenny tossed and rolled and strained to open swollen eyes. She was heavily drugged, but she managed to open her heavy lids halfway. There wasn't a muscle or nerve in her body that did not hurt. She moaned.

She didn't know where she was at first, but it all slowly began to come back to her. She fought the memory off. It was too horrible. But she could see the hairy, horned demon with her husband's perfect face, lustfully ravishing her body. She let out a long and painful moan. "Ohhh ... God!" Her eyes came into focus. She was in the trailer. Someone must have carried her there after – No! She didn't want to think about it! Her mouth was pasty, dry.

It was difficult to swallow. She reached up to her throbbing temples. As she did, she noticed the black bruises on her arms. "Crap!" But the tearing pain between her legs was the worst. She could still feel _His_ massive organ violating her. "Nooooo ..." She didn't want to remember. She thrashed and rolled over, sobbing into her pillow. "Why? Why didn't they kill me?"

Then out of what she thought had been an empty room, save for herself, she heard, "It was never my intention to kill you, Jenny."

She sprung forward, jerking to her elbows. She had not realized he was there. He was sitting in an armchair in the corner, looking perfectly relaxed, as though he'd just finished the morning paper. And he was watching her intently. At least, he had returned to his human form.

She stared accusingly into those cool blue eyes. _Surely_ that wasn't compassion dwelling there? "You should have killed me," she snapped. "It would have been more merciful. But ... showing mercy isn't exactly your cup of tea, is it?"

He saw no point in trying to explain to her. She would not understand. All she could understand was what he had done to her. He could not blame her for that. And trying to comfort, to console, her would be an idiotic waste of time. Stupid was an even better word. His hope was that – if given enough time and understanding, enough love on his part, maybe she would grow to love him again. Maybe. But a year wasn't enough. Chances were it wasn't even close to sufficient. Maybe there never would be enough time.

"Quit staring at me, you bastard!" She couldn't stomach the way he was eyeing her, as though he actually cared. It was a lie! His entire resplendent presence was a lie! She knew what he really was – he was Satan! Not Pan. Not some mythological fairy tale. He was Satan! Satan was the devil!

Never would she be deceived again!

He new it was the sheer reality of who he was that was difficult for her to comprehend. Although she had known she was marrying him, there had been no way for her to fully understand who he was. Like it or not, though, she belonged to him for a year. And he would do his best to try and regain her love.

He had no intentions of abstaining from sex with her, either, not as long as she was with him. He _would_ have to wait a few days, give her body time to heal from the abuse he had dealt her as the animalistic Pan. But she would heal more quickly than any ordinary mortal. That would come as a surprise to her.

He had jeans and a white blouse for her. He stood and handed them over to her. "Get dressed. I'll take you to your new home."

"If you mean to live with you, forget it! A few light-years from you would be too close."

"You have no choice, whatsoever, in the matter, my sweet. You _are_ my wife. Get dressed!"

"Wife?" Was he trying to be funny? Wife? "You've got to be joking. After what you did to me?" she cried. "You can still call me your wife?"

"Yes!" he boomed. "You agreed to the terms! You are mine for a year. Now ... I won't tell you again. _"Get your_ _clothes on!"_

"Your yelling is supposed to scare me? Why should you want me to bother with clothes? You've already exposed me in front of hundreds of your followers. You turned ... into some kind of horrible, hairy monster and raped me in front of them! What kind of being would do that to his wife? _Tell me?"_

"You wouldn't believe me, if I told you."

"Try me. What kind of rotten excuse could you possibly have? I want to hear it."

"It was the Sacred Rite, Jenny."

" _Sacred!"_ The word gave a gaseous curl to her tongue.

"Yes," he answered calmly, now, knowing she had no understanding and could not begin to fathom what it meant to him and his followers. "The celebrating of the beginning of life. In this case, our son's life."

"What?" Incredulous was an understatement for what she felt. She was even sicker than before.

"Yes, Jennifer," he said patiently, "a very important event to all concerned. That means my people, my followers, would not have missed it for anything. To them, to me, it was the most important Sacred Rite of any kind ... _ever_. It was _the_ Sacred Rite."

"If this so-called Sacred Rite was so friggin' important, then why in hell didn't you tell me?'

"Would you have agreed to participate, if I had?"

She didn't have to think about it long. "No!"

"I rest my case. Now, please ... if you will?" He held out his hand indicating to the clothes.

She argued no more, simply did as he asked, pulling herself out of bed, with his help, and went to the bathroom. "Oh God!" The mirror revealed her purple and black bruises. "Oh God!"

He heard her and flinched at her words, but he didn't disturb her. It was best she be left alone. When she came out, he was dressed in ordinary street clothes: a red and white, checkered flannel shirt, jeans and sneakers, looking very much like a local redneck. He offered her a white sweater and assisted her in putting it on.

Jenny thought the sweater was to hide her bruises, but he gave it to her out of concern. It was chilly outside in the morning air. Although her immune system was growing stronger because of him, he didn't want her to catch cold on top of everything else she had been through. Once in the car, they headed for Texas City.

For a long while, it was a quiet drive, with the exception of the radio being on low.

Occasionally, he would smile at her, pretending everything was fine. She just stared at him coldly and looked the other way.

After a while he spoke, "Jenny, there's something I want to explain to you," he said, turning the radio off.

She made no comment other than that she had been listening to the radio and wished he would turn it back on. He promised that he would.

"The main difference in the religion you were raised with and the beliefs of my people is the attitude towards sex."

She watched trees fly by, a horse, some black and white spotted cows, not really caring what kind they were or what he had to say. She just wanted to lose herself in oblivion.

But his voice was still there intruding in on her thoughts, "You were raised from childhood to believe that sex is something evil and dirty. And, even in these 'modern' times, people are haunted with fears and are beat down with guilt over something that is perfectly natural...."

She remained silent.

"Where do you think the majority of all the sex perverts come from? They do not come from families that treat sex for what it really is: a natural function of nature. You see, Jenny, sex is the basis of all life – in animals and plants. Without it, this would be a _barren_ world. There would be no life! My people cherish sex for what it is – the beginning of life, not something evil," he emphasized the last. "It is a sacred function to us. Contrary to what a lot of people believe we do not misuse it. The ones who misuse it are the child molesters and rapists. They become what they are because at some point in their miserable lives they were ridiculed for their natural urges and told that they were dirty, bad and wrong. Sex is not a drive that goes away when ignored.

"No matter how much one might try to stifle it, it is going to come out in some form. If not the natural ... then the unnatural."

Though she was desperately trying to block him out, some of what he was saying was reaching into her brain and actually making sense. Only, she couldn't forgive him for what he had done. She kept staring out the window and now looking at the rain drops that were collecting there.

"Last night ... had you been one of my people from the beginning, you would have been totally different in your outlook about what took place. There would have been no need to restrain you. The difference being in that it all depends on what direction you are coming from. I knew full well what it would do to you emotionally. I hate myself for that. It's difficult for you to understand now. But I do love you! And ... as far as my transition into Pan ... Well, I had no choice. It is the curse that was laid upon me eons ago. It is the only form in which I can sire a child. That's not the way I want it, Jenny. That is the way it is! There is _nothing_ I can do about it."

She finally looked at him. "Do you really expect me to be gullible enough to swallow that?"

"Yes! For it is the truth!"

She puckered and screwed her mouth around, pondering. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he wasn't. "The truth or not, I don't want your little monster. You can have him. I don't want anything that is any part of you!" She turned her focus back to the window, refusing to acknowledge the hurt in his face, nor the welling of tears in his oh so very blue eyes.

Jenny offered no comments on the luxurious red-brick home with custom-crafted windows and glass fixtures, or on the big, piano-shaped pool in the back yard that would have made Liberace jealous had he been alive. She didn't care about the solid-oak furniture, the lovely oil and pastel paintings everywhere.

There weren't any religious ones. Not unless one considered paintings of blazing infernos religious. _No pictures of Jesus!_

There never would be.

Material-wise, there was not one thing she could possibly want for. Freedom was all she wanted. And it was the one thing she felt she didn't have. If only she could return to her little apartment. Wistful thinking. It wasn't much, but it had been hers and represented the world she had lost and never would see again. She flung herself across the huge bed with its satin covers and remained there while he moved about the house, hoping she would start settling into things.

After several hours, he went to the bedroom and looked down at her. "Jenny?"

She ignored him.

"Jenny!"

The sudden tenor of his voice startled her. She bolted up. "What the shit do you want?"

"To let you know that I am going out for a while."

"Now, he has consideration!" she said acerbically. "Hmmm. Let me see. Am I supposed to care?"

"I don't give a damn whether you do or not, Jenny," he lied. "You're free to go or do whatever you want or wish. But don't try to hide from me. I can find you anywhere – on this world or any other."

She just blinked at him blankly. Not caring. "Should I give a rat's ass?"

He ignored her sarcasm. "And, if you have some inane idea or notion of turning me into the authorities, forget it. They're helpless against me.... _I am the authorities!"_

Again, she twisted her mouth around. She hated the fact that he could read her mind.

"I only know you don't believe me, but I _do_ love you. I didn't want to do this thing to you. It was the only way I could impregnate you. I want a son more than anything.

"I hope you will want and love him, too. If it is any consolation, I won't have to do it again, not unless we have more than one child. I plan on just the one. From now on, I will make love to you only in this human form."

She glared with unfeeling eyes. "What makes you think I want you to come anywhere near me, let alone, touch me?"

He responded equally as cold, "It doesn't make any difference whether you want me or not. _You_ are my wife. I _will_ take you when I want."

She snatched up her pillow and flung it at him. _"You bastard!"_

Swift and agile, he caught it and tossed it aside. "Here." He handed her a gold ring with car keys. "These are to your car. It's parked in the garage. As I said, you're free to come and go as you please." Having had his say, he vanished, leaving a gossamer mist.

She watched the mist dissipate, then picked up the keys and stared at them, not really caring if she had a car or not, then laid them on the bed.

She needed to relieve herself and went to the bathroom. When she looked in the mirror that was framed in gold dolphins, she saw her bruises were rapidly fading. Had some of his blood actually mixed with hers and made her different? If so, was it speeding up the healing process, somehow? "Even you aren't normal anymore, Jenny," she said sarcastically to her reflection.

Mattie hadn't slept. Couldn't. Everyone had been so nice at the ceremony, practically treating her as royalty, but she couldn't get the images of such a strange wedding and all those people out of her mind, especially the dignitaries, the politicians. Yes. Everyone had been nice – except him. He had been disrespectful when she had asked him his name.

He had said he was Pan. Yes, Pan was what the other man had called him. But he couldn't be! Pan was a mythological figure – not a real person.

Who was he really?

Surely something would be on the news about the wedding, one so big and grand as Jenny's.

Wasn't a word.

Mattie phoned all the newspapers in Galveston and Harris counties. None of them could tell her anything. Several even implied that she might have a screw loose somewhere. Had she not been there in the flesh, she would never have believed it had actually taken place. And what was Jenny's new name? She didn't know. She hoped Jenny would phone soon and explain everything, tell her what his name really was and what all the secrecy was about.

Did David know who Jenny had married? She started to phone, then hesitated. After all, he had been dating Jenny. He had to be hurt over Jenny's sudden change of plans. Still, she had to know.

David's familiar voice was welcome to her ears. She really hadn't relished speaking with his father.

David waited patiently while Mattie explained the reason she was calling. "I tell you, David," she said, "it was the strangest wedding I have ever witnessed."

His interest was more than peaked. "Yes?" But her phoning wasn't exactly what he needed. He'd experienced one of the roughest days of his life – that horrible lingering nightmare with him the entire day. But, he still wanted to hear any news pertaining to Jenny, even learning she had actually gone through with the marriage. "In what way was it weird, Mrs. Sims?"

"In all ways! The entire thing was crazy! Just so incredible. I'm not sure you'll believe me."

"You might just be surprised at what I am willing to believe, Mrs. Sims."

"Well ... at the risk of sounding totally insane ... here goes. Something was said about his being a king. King of where? What? I haven't a clue. And they said he had reigned for _thousands_ of years! Mind you."

A horrible taste and sensation sank slowly into the pit of his stomach, increasing his uneasiness threefold. "And?"

"They used such terms as immortals. Isn't that absurd?"

"I am beginning to wonder," he mumbled under his breath, but she didn't catch it.

"Everyone ... and I mean _everyone_ ... wore necklaces with stars. They were upside down. You know ... the point at the bottom instead of at the top. His was the largest, by far. At the end of the ceremony, he hung one around Jenny's neck, too."

"They are pentagrams, Mrs. Sims," he informed her.

"Then ... you do know something about it?" There was a twang of hope in her voice as it rose in pitch.

How he hated to deflate her hope. "Yes ... and no. More than I want to. I think you should talk to my dad. I'll make arrangements for you to see him."

"Do you think he'll mind?"

"Not at all. He is very concerned about Jenny, too. It's just that he has a busy schedule and I need to let him know ahead of time."

"Well, I certainly appreciate it. I sure hope he can clear this up for me."

"Well, we will do our best. I will call you back in a little while and let you know when you can see him. And you can let me know if the time is okay with you." His dad did not have all the answers. David was certain of that. It was the only thing he was certain of.

John removed his glasses that he wore only when he worked on his sermons and reading, and laid them on his desk.

He jumped up from his swivel chair and offered Mattie a warm hand. "Glad to meet you, Mrs. Sims. I just wish circumstances were better." He motioned for David to get Mattie a chair.

"I really appreciate you seeing me. I am so worried about Jennifer. David tells me you might be able to sort some of this out for me." She looked at him hopefully. "Can you?"

David returned with a chair. Mattie thanked him and sat down.

John cleared his throat and rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses always pinched. "Ah ... I don't exactly know where to begin, Mrs. Sims...."

Nervously, she played with the small white handkerchief she held waded in her aging hands. "Please call me Mattie."

He nodded slightly. "Mattie it is. The wedding you witnessed in the wee hours of morning was no ordinary wedding."

"You're telling me?" she gesticulated. "I still don't know who he is. You know what he told me when I asked him his name?"

"And what is that?" He tensed up slightly, really afraid to ask.

With worried eyes, she glanced back to David, then again to John. "Pan!"

That was no surprise to John. In fact, he wouldn't have been surprised if she had said Satan. "Figures. He _would_ have the audacity to admit it."

"Admit it?" she leaned forward. "Are you saying he _is?"_ Cold horror revealed its ugliness in her face. "But that's impossible!" Her eyes showed she was waiting for John to start laughing ... to say it was all a big joke ... a mistake ... anything. That she misunderstood. But he didn't. "Isn't it?"

He expressed deep sincerity in wishing it was a joke. But he couldn't say that. He had to tell her that this Pan was a real being. Furthermore, the designation Pan was merely a mythological name and that his true identity – John apologized sympathetically for having to say it – was Satan.

"But I thought he was a spirit?" Her hand flew to her forehead. She was going to faint. She tilted sideways. She was falling.

John grabbed her just before she hit the floor. He ordered David to get a glass of water, then assisted Mattie in placing her head between her knees. "If you'll just keep your head down for a few minutes, I think you will be okay."

David hurried back with the glass of water. Helen was at his heels, asking if there was anything she could do. And John suggested that she have Mattie lie down for a while, until she felt better. Mattie insisted she was okay, but John wasn't buying it. She finally relented and they took her to the guest room.

Soon, Helen brought in fresh coffee for Mattie and insisted she drink it. After about half a cup, Mattie said she was feeling better.

"I can see where Jenny gets her pretty hazel eyes and chestnut hair," Helen noted. "You are a very attractive woman."

"Thank you!" Mattie replied. "But I think you're just trying to make me feel better."

"Not altogether. I am sincere." Then Helen said, "You're welcome to stay the night, if you'd like?"

"No. No. But I would like to finish my conversation with your husband. If that is okay? Then, I'd better head for home."

"I'd be glad to speak with you, Mattie," John said and stepped through the door.

He had come to check on her. He assisted her in standing and they all went to his study. John sat on the edge of his desk and Mattie back in her seat, while David and his mother took chairs he had brought in with him.

John began: "This entire experience is a shock to all of us. I know it is hard on you, David – and especially you, Mattie. Knowing Satan is here in the flesh is a very big and hard pill for anyone to swallow. The Bible speaks of the dragon and the Antichrist, but I thought ... I suppose we all thought, this couldn't possibly be Satan in the flesh."

"Are we absolutely sure?" She dabbed the corners of her eyes.

He sighed heavily. "Speaking for myself – I am sure. You see, Mattie, he came to our church yesterday morning."

She removed her hand from her face and leaned forward. "What?"

"If you had been there, I believe you would understand." David and Helen nodded in agreement.

"No doubts whatsoever that this was someone purely evil when he made his – grand entrance," John gesticulated.

"Yes," Helen offered. "And I hesitate to mention this, but it was so obvious. He is very good looking. I couldn't take my eyes off him, even though he sent cold chills down my spine."

"Certainly sounds like the man I met," Mattie said. She returned to dabbing the tears that still flowed from her red eyes.

David added, "And he more than caused a slight commotion when he walked in."

John said, "We didn't fully realize until later who he might be. But when we began putting the pieces together, it didn't take long."

"I just knew there was something terribly wrong with that wedding. It was so ... sacrilegious: them cutting their wrists and all. He was dressed so vulgar." She began to cry.

David moved over to her and put a comforting arm around her. She patted his hand.

"I'm okay. This surely must be hard for you, too?"

"It isn't easy," he acknowledged, fighting back his on tears.

"Is there anything we can do, Reverend Miller?"

His face wasn't hopeful. "God gives us all a choice, Mattie. If Jenny wanted to marry him, then God won't help her. I am afraid she has to be truly repentant and want help to get it."

"There's nothing we can do, then?"

"Pray." He raised an eyebrow for a moment and changed his sitting position. "And that is just what David, Helen and I have been doing." He placed his glasses back on. "This is a very unusual situation. People always have a choice between God and Satan. Jenny not only chose him, Mattie – she married him!" He sadly shook his head. "I am afraid my hands are tied. Who am I against such a being, a supernatural being, such as Satan? Pan? Whatever name he calls himself right now." He gesticulated. "Before, when dealing with him as a spirit, it was much more simple, though not always easy. We simply prayed. Now, he is making his presence known. That can mean only one thing: now is the time for him to take over. I am afraid Jenny isn't the only one who has or is being taken in by him – the master deceiver.

Mattie sighed heavily and her eyes were downcast. "What in the world are we going to do?"

"My answer is still the same. Pray. It is the only thing we can do. The rest is up to God."

XIII

Just inside the mammoth, wrought iron gate to the inferno, Satan stood – powerful legs spread-eagle, bare feet planted firmly on the summit of the crimson mountain. Today he wore the black panther skin with the single shoulder strap. Except for the bull whip, his left shoulder was bare. Hot amber smoke curled up in his face; highly toxic smoke that would choke the life out of any human in seconds. The rancid stench from the deep pit below was sickening, worse than any foul odor on earth. He flexed hard muscles and glared down into the billowing flames.

How he loathed it!

Even the sentry at the gate shook when Master Pan was there, and Pan was in one of his mean moods today. He was not speaking. When _He_ wasn't speaking ... when _He_ was silent ... it was time for one to be on one's toes.

Pan listened to the cries of anguish, of help, pleadings of mercy. The more he listened, the more enraged he became. He detested this job, hated those pathetic creatures who were once humans with souls. There was no hope for them and never would be. This was their lot for their sins. They had made their choice – like he once made his.

When on earth they had blamed their evil hearts on him, as man had for thousands of years, encouraged to do so by the churches. It was because he had been the first to rebel against the creator that he had been given the "honor" of being in charge of the rest.

What made him despise the job more was the thought that someday – and it was growing too close – it was to be his punishment as well, as though thousands of years of this mess wasn't already sufficient punishment. Yet, he couldn't die. Couldn't escape. And it was because once, a very long time ago, he had made the mistake of believing he was as great as and equal to _the_ Master – God!

There was no asking for forgiveness. He had started it all. The _Other_ one had not died for _his_ sins. Only for the monkeys, as some of the angels referred to them. But he was far superior to any "monkey" in any way. He felt it a terrible injustice.

But one did not argue with the Creator.

In the beginning, the Creator had given him everything: all the power in the universe at his command. And, he hadn't been restricted just to the earth and this place. All had gone to his head. He had been drunk with self-importance. He had believed himself equal with the Creator. That had been the profound mistake of all profound mistakes. He had not appreciated what he had. Consequently, he had been forced to take this job and be hated by all the "monkeys' and three-quarters of his fellow angels for eternity.

He spit defiantly into the flames and started down the mountain, down the mountain into hell. With long strides, he gained tremendous speed, descending further and further into the raging flames. At the foot of the mountain, the guard there saw him approach and immediately stood at attention.

"How many new ones today?" Pan asked.

"Five thousands, Master."

He chuckled sardonically. "Numbers never decrease."

"Right, Sir!" The guard agreed, still saluting.

He passed the guard and came to the first lake of molten lava. Soldiers were scrubbing prisoners down with salt.

The captives were yelling and begging for a second chance. When they laid eyes on Pan, they reached out their arms and pleaded for mercy. He lashed his bullwhip out at the ones in front. It snapped and crackled as it unfurled into them. They fell back. "Shut up!" he snarled. "I am not here to show mercy. It's my job to see that you are punished." He stepped in closer, whipping them ruthlessly. When he tired of it, he ordered the soldiers to lay more salt on the wounds.

Onward, he trudged, ignoring the screams for mercy behind. Up ahead, his second in command, Beelzebub, sat at a black desk, working on the records of the new arrivals. Seeing Pan, he stood and bowed. Because of his high rank, he never saluted, but he always showed his respect with a bow to the beautiful one.

"Do any of the new prisoners qualify as soldier material?" His army wasn't growing fast enough. Many of the prisoners he already had were poor excuses for men, let alone, soldiers. But he had to gather what he could. He would be needing them soon, if he was to take over the world and fight the big war; the latter being his major concern. It was coming too soon.

"The outlook is somewhat better today, Master Pan. I think we might even be able to use as many of them as three thousand."

"Well ... a bit better than I had hoped for. Get them checked in as soon as possible and start their training immediately."

"Will do. And ... if I may inquire? How is the new wife?"

"As I feared."

An eyebrow raised, creasing the dark forehead. "Hates you?"

"Yes." Pan turned to survey the line of prisoners waiting to be checked in. He continued talking. "And, she doesn't want my son ... when he comes."

"Don't lose hope. There is still time. She could still come around."

He wore a grin of irony when he turned back to face Beelzebub, "What was it that started the rumor that I could control a person's free will?"

"Some idiot. I can't recall his name. A long forgotten fundamentalist pastor, I believe."

"I think you're right," he sighed. "Most likely, he's here burning his ass off right now for lying --. Whether she likes it or not, Jenny is my wife and will be for a year, at least."

"You actually intend to keep your promise, Master Pan?" He knew this was not like Satan, the most ruthless of the ruthless.

"Yes! Unfortunately, I actually love her. I love her too much to make her stay with me against her will any longer than necessary."

"I see. Can it be that the mighty Pan is changing?" Beelzebub responded.

"No. I have my revenge if she _does_ leave. Even if she doesn't care about our son."

A smile crossed the handsome dark face. Pan wasn't changing that much after all. "What is that?"

"She probably doesn't believe me, but she will never be able to marry anyone else. No other male will touch her and live."

"Ah! I recall. It was in the wedding ceremony."

"Originally, I was considering that to be only if she stays with me. Now, I have changed my mind. I do not intend to _ever_ let another male have her ... of any species of any kind." He spit on the hot red sand. Steam shot up from the spot, sizzling. "I warned her. I told her before we married. She did agree to the terms. Now, if she hates me so much, she will just have to do without a man. She belongs to me for all eternity, whether she likes it or not. If I can't have her, no one else will!"

Beelzebub sighed with obvious relief. Master Pan truly had not changed. "I understand perfectly."

"I'd better be off with my rounds. Talk to you later."

An abrupt click of the heels and, "Yes, Master Pan."

Jenny had not seen Pan in three days. She was beginning to hope he never would return. She had not ventured outside or anywhere. She didn't feel up to going out into a world of normal people, people who believed Satan was just some evil spirit that was far removed from the physical world, or a simple figment of the imagination. She wanted to shout to all of them the truth, but they would not believe her. Of that, she was certain.

How many people could she trust? From the numbers who had attended the wedding, no telling how many were really human, or how many might recognize her. She didn't want any chance encounters with any of them.

She had not eaten anything since the night of her wedding. She didn't want anything. How could she eat with the knowledge of what she had done to herself? She had thrown her life away. Her soul! How could God possibly forgive her now? She was the wife of Pan! Truthfully, Satan. It was just that Pan didn't sound quite so serious. And it was what he was referred to most of the time, even by himself. She was sure that was the reason.

It was night when Pan slipped home. The car had not been removed from the garage. He had hoped she would, at least, go out and be with her own kind, see her mother, perhaps some friends.

He had no fear she would try and take her own life; she would be afraid she would end up with him. She would be right. With his blood and child in her, she wouldn't be able to kill herself, anyway. The baby, the part of him that was in her, would just regenerate and keep her alive. At least, he didn't have that worry.

He decided against popping in on her. Instead, he entered through the front door as any human would. She was lying on the sofa when he stepped inside.

Instantly, Jenny was upset all over again, realizing the first thing she felt for him was not hate – but desire! He was more handsome and, if possible, more sensual than ever. She averted her eyes, wanting to feel nothing but loathing for him.

His heart leapt excitedly when he caught the first impression from her. She had feelings for him, still! Pretending not to notice, he whisked by her and headed down the hall into their bedroom. Definitely, she had slept in their bed, but she had not bothered to make it. The latter he didn't care about. If she preferred not to do housework, that was fine. Any of his concubines could come in anytime the place needed tidying.

He changed from his panther skin into his leopard, his favorite. Then, taking his silver flute from its cord, he began to play softly.

Familiar, sweet music floated into the living room. "Shit!" Jenny cursed. Delicate tones brought back the mystifying and passionate first encounters with him. She turned around just in time to see him enter the room. That leopard skin! That was too much! She jumped up and fled past him to the hall and into their bedroom and slammed the door. When she got there, he was perched on the edge of their bed like some graceful bird, grinning mischievously, ice-blue eyes dancing and still playing that exotic melody. She glared at him and ran off again, only to be greeted by him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. She threw her hands in the air. "All right! All right! You win! I give up!" she plopped heavily into a chair at the glass table in the dining area and laid her head on her palms.

He stood there for a moment and quit playing, watching her sob into her hands. "You haven't eaten, have you?"

No answer, as he expected. It didn't matter. He knew just what to say to get to her. "Jenny, my sweet, if you do not eat something, I am going to take you to bed and make love to you."

That did it. Her head popped up. She scooted her chair back and let it fall to the floor and headed straight for the refrigerator. She hadn't even peered inside. It was crammed. Never had she seen such a full refrigerator in her entire life.

She took out sliced cheddar cheese, pressed deli-ham and a jar of mustard, then went about making herself a sandwich. She poured a tall glass of whole milk and sat down to eat, all the while remaining silent.

He observed quietly in mild amusement, satisfied she would not go hungry. Plus, he had every intention of making love to her, anyway. She had feelings for him. The desire was in her eyes, the longing. The one thing that could revive those feelings was to make the most passionate love he was capable of to her. And he could be more passionate and tender than anyone. Passion was his forte.

He would leave her alone for now, until she was in bed, let her think she was having her way. He picked up his flute and walked out the back door and sat down by the pool. It was a beautiful day, still. He would just sit and enjoy it and wait.

She was in a deep sleep. He stood over her and watched her breathe. So innocent, so beautiful, she was. Quietly, he slipped in beside her and slowly slid his arm around her tiny waist. He would simply rest next to her for a while, savor her softness and let her grow accustomed to his warmth. After some time passed, he ever so tenderly kissed her fine neck, wishing to arouse her before she fully awoke. She stirred. Lightly, he nibbled on her ear and caressed her breast and played with her dark nipples. Again, she stirred and he waited for her to settle.

Once more his lips found her neck and when she began to wake, he moved over her to kiss her fully. She resisted. But he persisted. Although she responded, she glared defiantly. He broke their kiss and grinned broadly. She came back with, "I hate you!"

"Ah ... but you _do_ want me." He kissed her feverishly, demandingly, not about to let her go. He could tell she was fighting desire, but it was rising in spite of her resistance.

"I hate you!"

She could hold back no longer and hated herself for not being able to stop. He was so gentle, so sensual. "I hate you! I hate you!" she repeated as her rebellious body responded eagerly to his.

He answered her wild, maddening needs in a way no human male could; once more sending her on a trip of passion to the very stars.

Finally, she admitted, "I can't stand it! I want you! I need you!"

His release came in a fury, a hurricane of heated passion and tenderness. She groaned. When it was over, she totally relaxed into his arms, exhausted. They lay there not saying a word for several minutes. Then he got out of bed. She watched him quizzically.

"Where are you going?"

He grinned smugly with his fiery blue eyes. "So ... you care?"

"Yes!" She threw a pillow at him. He caught it and tossed it aside. "Dammit! But I still hate you!" She ignored the laughter in his wonderful face as he slipped back into their bed. In no time at all, she fell asleep, feeling strangely safe and secure in his powerful arms.

Some time later, Pan sat back in the lounge chair and watched his bride sleep. Sleep was something he rarely did. He could go forever without it, if he so chose, but sometimes he would take the liberty in order to forget about everything, even though it was only for a short while.

For now, he simply wished to enjoy Jenny resting, lying there so peacefully, because peace was something alien to him. He felt much better about her now, knowing she did still love him ... in spite of her anger.

Sexually, she could not resist him. No female could, not without help from the "Other." But he wanted her to stay out of love for him. Right now she cared. He was confident. He closed his eyes and leaned his blond head against the chair back.

When Jennifer awoke, Pan was gone. At first, she felt something akin to panic, then she became angry with herself for weakening the way she did. On one hand, she couldn't stand the thought of losing him; on the other, she loathed him. She sighed heavily, pulled herself out of bed and went off to shower.

It was dark outside and Pan had not returned. Jennifer wondered where he could be. She was restless and wanted, needed someone to talk to. Why wasn't he home? The keys he had given her had fallen on the floor by their bed. She never had bothered to retrieve them. She didn't even know what kind of car she had. Snatching the keys up, she darted off for the garage.

A shiny black Porsche awaited her. He had some nerve! The license plates read 666. That was Satan's number! She wanted to think of him as Pan – but not in his monstrous state. _No way_ could she take that car out on the streets! _Not with those plates!_ Disgusted, she stomped back into the house. She tried the television, but she couldn't make herself interested in anything. To her amazement, she found there were over five hundred channels and many in other tongues, languages from around the world. "Woe!" But other than that, nothing remotely grabbed her attention. She just could not focus.

"Oh ... what the shit!"

She returned to the garage, got in her new car, opened the garage door with the control in the front passenger's seat and backed out, heading for – she didn't know where. She drove for several blocks before she realized her mother's house was in the next block down. Her mother would be full of questions that Jenny wasn't sure she could answer, but she desperately needed to talk to someone. If she didn't, she would go nuts.

Mattie was pretty much speechless when she opened the front door to her daughter. She could not believe Jenny was actually standing there, and looking healthier than she would ever dare to anticipate. After a brief moment of disbelief, she welcomed her daughter with arms wide open, hugging her almost to the point of choking her, all the while, shedding tears of joy and relief profusely. "My baby! You're all right!"

After pulling herself free so she could breathe, Jenny's bright eyes danced back and forth for a moment, taking in her astounded mother. "Of course, I am all right," she said. "Why would I not be okay?"

"But ... but ..." Mattie stuttered. "You married _him!_ That ... that ..."

Strange, Jenny found herself feeling defensive for her husband. "I married a _wonderful_ man, Mother. What in the world are you talking about?"

"But that crazy wedding? All those people? The fires? Everyone dressed in black? And John Miller told me that," she laughed nervously, "that ... that you married --. Well, after I witnessed the wedding and told him about it, he convinced me you married --."

"Who? Mother?"

Mattie's tone was now sheepish. "Ahhh ... Satan. Even your husband said ..."

" _Mother!"_ Jenny roared with laughter, interrupting, "Don't be absurd."

"Then it's not true?"

"What do you think? Of course not," she added before her mother could respond. "You mean you actually bought that? You believed something so ridiculous?"

Mattie was really confused now. "I am sure John Miller wouldn't intentionally lie."

"Why? Just because he is a pastor?" She saw the shocked look on her mother's face and changed her tone. "Well ... I am sure he didn't lie intentionally. I am sure he believed what he said. Either that or he is just a wee bit weird."

"Well," Mattie said evenly, not really knowing how to react. "You do seem perfectly fine ... even happy."

"I am, Mother. Very!"

"Well ... come on in, then. No point in us just standing out here."

"Thanks, Mom. Thought you'd never ask."

It was obvious that Mattie was wondering if she had been a complete idiot. She led Jenny into the living room. They settled down onto the deep, comfortable sofa. "I am tremendously relieved, Jenny. You have no idea how worried I have been." She pulled her small handkerchief from her apron pocket and dabbed her eyes gently at the corners.

"Mother, it really is okay. I assure you that I am okay."

Mattie nodded her head slightly and rested her hands in her lap, still holding the handkerchief. "Tell me ... what country is your husband king of?" Jenny was silent for a moment while Mattie, waiting for her daughter to reply, stuffed her kerchief in her pocket and took her daughter's hands in her own. "He is a king, is he not?"

Jenny wanted to be careful how she answered this one. "It's merely a title, Mother. You know ... like in a lodge. Masons. Things on that order. And he loves doing things in a really big way. Likes to be grand. He has the money. So, why not go for it?"

Mattie relaxed back against the soft back of the sofa. "I see. That makes more sense. Only ..." She released Jenny's hands and picked up a pink cushion, embroidered with white and red roses to compliment the sofa and fiddled with the outer ruffle. "The things that were said at the wedding. Like – his reigning for thousands of years. What was that all about? And immortals? Want to explain that?"

"Merely ritual, Mother. Nothing more, I assure you. The 'lodge' is very ancient, began long before the Christian era ... even before Judaism. And it is kept secret from the public. I really can't divulge much more. Of course, as you witnessed, many from our own government know about it."

"Sounds all mysterious, mystical and downright fascinating," Mattie said with a more cheerful note and patted her daughter's hand. "Well ... again, I cannot tell you how very relieved I am. You simply cannot imagine."

"I would think so," Jenny said, laughing lightly. "Especially if they had you believing that nonsense." What has gotten into me? Jenny wondered. I am lying horribly.

"Well, they did. And some must believe it," Mattie gesticulated. "Otherwise, I cannot understand why a man of John Miller's reputation and position, a well respected man of the cloth, would concoct such a wild story."

"Now, can you see why I have never been too enthusiastic about the church? They can be real fanatics. I think John Miller is taking his job too seriously. It's affecting his brain." _Shit I don't believe that I am saying all this!_

Her mother continued: "You must be right, Jen. Guess I never believed a preacher could get so carried away." She did not realize the supernatural effect Jenny was having upon her, that now she was speaking to powerful forces unknown to her besides her daughter, forces that had entered Jenny along with Pan's blood.

"You'd better believe it!" _Jenny Satanail, you are as_ rotten as your husband! She found the thought strangely amusing.

"I do believe you now. Poor David, though, does believe all that hogwash."

"Of course he does." Jenny cringed slightly at the mention of David's name. She did, still, feel something for him. There would always be a soft spot for him in her heart. That was something she did not want.

Mattie patted her daughter's hand again.

"David loves his father, Mom. And he's almost as devout as his father."

"Yes. I certainly see what you mean.... Tell me something. You say your husband is very rich. Is he in the business of oil? Stocks? What?"

"Truthfully, Mother. I am not sure. He is head of a highly secret military organization, too. I really can't discuss that, though. Even though I really do not know a whole lot about it. Security, you know."

Mattie played with the ruffle on the pillow again. "I can understand that. He works for the government, then."

She thought about it a minute. "Right," she lied again.

"That would explain all those soldiers at your wedding and, I guess, most of everything else. I am _so_ relieved." She was about to ask Jenny what her last name really was, but the doorbell rang. "Seems to be my evening for visitors. Wonder who that could be?"

Jenny was just as surprised as Mattie to see her handsome husband filling the doorway as he stood there, dressed up so smartly in his striking black uniform with red tassels hanging from the shoulders, and silver buttons down the side of his coat. The crisp black hat was very impressive with its shiny black rim, band and _that star_ right in the middle of the band.

"Hello, Mattie. Or should I call you, Mom?" he greeted with a fetching smile and a tip of his hat. "My wife is here, isn't she?"

Mattie ignored the comment of his referring to her as Mom. That wonderful pine-scented after shave of his was almost overpowering. "Ah ... Hi! Please do come in." Now she was thrilled by the good-looking gentleman her daughter had married. And so important!

"Thank you, Mom," he said with a nod and stepped in, grinning confidently in Jenny's direction. He sat down by her.

Jenny reflected his contagious smile. It was fruitless to fight him. His frost-blue eyes were so full of mischief, so full of – the devil. He was rapidly growing on her.

"Jenny has been telling me all about you," Mattie commented with enthusiasm. "I must admit that I am more than a little impressed."

He grinned hugely at his wife. "Jenny is probably a little prejudiced where I am concerned."

"It is really easy to understand why. Can I get you something? Coffee? Perhaps a Coke?"

"No thank you. I've been at a meeting all day. I thought that perhaps my wife would like me to take her out to eat."

Mattie's hand went to her chin. "So thoughtful! My! My!" She studied her daughter who was looking at her new husband with a very strange grin on her face. He laid an arm around Jenny's shoulder. She snuggled up to him and kissed him quickly, then looked back at her mother.

"Would you like to have dinner with me in a nice restaurant?" he said to Jenny.

"Certainly. Why not?" She screwed up her mouth in a coquettish fashion, trying to hide the smirk she felt.

"What's the matter with you?" Mattie said. "Say you'd love to. When your husband offers to take you out to eat, grab the offer."

Jenny rolled her big eyes up at his. "Honey, I would love to!"

He turned his attention to Mattie, "You'll come too, won't you?"

Boy! Jenny thought. When he wants to impress, he certainly knows what to do. The rat! He caught her thoughts and chuckled.

"You want _me_ to come along?" Mattie put a hand to her cheek. "I really couldn't. But it is so nice and considerate of you to think to include me."

"Of course, you can," he insisted. "You don't have any other plans, do you?"

She shook her head slightly, a bit uncertain of the invitation. Should she? Or shouldn't she? "Not really."

"Then," he leaned forward, "I won't take _no_ for an answer."

She was excited and beside herself. "Well ... in that case," she breathed. "Give me a moment to get ready."

"Of course," he said with a nod. "Take all the time you need."

She promised not to take too long and hurried off to change.

Once her mother was out of the room, Jenny turned to her husband and kissed him on his forehead. "You rat!"

"I know." He grinned, revealing perfect whites, then kissed her just passionately enough to aggravate her. When they came up for air, he said, "And, I want to tell you that I am impressed with the way you handled your mother, as well."

"Yeah." She arched an eyebrow. "I am not so certain that you didn't put the words in my mouth."

"You will never know, will you?" He chortled and kissed her again.

It would be very hard now for anyone to convince Mattie Sims that there was a crooked hair on her son-in-law's blond head.

Not only did she believe him to be one of the most handsome and most important of men in the world, she was convinced that he had impeccably good taste in food, was irresistibly charming and above reproach in virtually anything and everything. And, she finally learned his full name: Robin Satanail, _General Robin Satanail,_ of a highly secure military organization.

Mattie Sims was sold!

Even Jenny was impressed with her husband's talents and charm. As soon as they were home, she began to giggle, then to chuckle, then to laugh almost uncontrollably, because she knew _He_ could make a complete fool of anyone – that was including herself – and that it was beyond futile to even think to try and resist _Him._

Had she not always been taught that he was the prince of deceit? Of lies? The irony was – she was hopelessly in love with him! The way she had defended him! It was not like her normal nature to tell outright lies. And to her own mother! She had been good at it, too. She had his blood in her all right. She was truly the wife of Pan.

Pan knew why his wife was laughing and joined her in mirth. They carried on their infectious laughing for a long time, until Jenny collapsed on the sofa, unable to even utter a faint chuckle anymore, totally and completely depleted of energy. Her ribs ached! He sat by her. She turned to him and stared into his wonderful eyes that were such a frosty blue that they took ones breath away. "Make love to me. Make wild and passionate love to me."

This remarkable attitude change in her made his heart soar with joy. "I would love to, sweet, sweet Jenny."

And he did.

It was with a sad and heavily laden heart that John hung up the phone. Now, Pan had his demonic talons deep into Jenny's mother.

The poor woman was completely and totally convinced _He_ was nothing short of or less than a saint! There was no point in arguing with her. She just would not listen.

There was nothing left for John to do but go to the chapel to pray.

XIV

"Dad?" David said as he assisted his father in picking up old hymnals and placing them in a cardboard box to get them out of the way for the new ones that had just arrived by UPS.

"What is it, Son?"

"I've been thinking really heavy on this. Can't seem to help myself. Isn't there anything we can do to help Jenny?"

John dropped his arm-load of books down into the cardboard box that was on the back pew by the doors. "I don't know. I really do not think so."

"There's got to be something!"

"I have rolled it over in my mind and prayed on it almost unceasingly." He looked searchingly into his son's green eyes that were so much like his own. "First of all, Jenny has to want help. From what I have been able to observe, right now, she doesn't want it." It hurt deeply to see his boy so down, so defeated. It worried him. David needed to put his mind to other issues. "I think what we should put on our priority list now is the fact that Satan is not only here on the earth in the flesh – but he is living here in _our_ community! I have no clue as to how we are going to get anyone, let alone everyone, to believe us. But there has to be a way.

It was apparent that David knew he could not argue with that. He nodded. They needed to do something.

What --? Was the immediate problem.

"We are talking about going up against the most powerful foe we could possibly encounter. This is not a mere man we are discussing. Although, he is in the physical form of a man. This is Satan! The devil! Some may refer to him as Pan, but that doesn't change the reality of who he truly is. I don't doubt for one second that he has men right here in Texas City working for him, probably on the school board, the city council, the newspaper. God only knows what all." He reached for a hymnal he had missed on the next pew and tossed it in the box. "What's more, I am sure Jenny knows very little, if anything, about his political maneuvers."

David nodded, stooped down and picked a hymnal up off the floor, stood and tossed it on top of the others.

"I don't know why he would pick Texas City of all places, unless it is because of the refineries. Could be that it is because of the port, not to mention it is awfully convenient to NASA.

David nodded again, mostly listening. But he had a few ideas of his own.

"Yes ... Texas City is small enough that no one would dream of him picking it to live in. That is, if one can believe he _is_ here in the flesh? Let's face it; most people haven't the vaguest idea that he is a _real_ person."

"Yeah", David said reflectively. "Guess you're right. I think I have been very selfish in thinking only of Jenny and myself. I haven't really been concerned about the big picture, the consequences to anyone and everyone else." He began taking the new hymnals out of their box. "Mattie didn't tell you where they live, did she?"

"No she didn't. Only that they live here in town." He reached up and scratched the balding spot on the crown of his head and looked his son straight in the eyes. "I certainly hope you don't have some wild notion to find her?"

"No. I'm not that stupid, Dad."

"I didn't really think you were, Son. But I had to ask. Forgive me?"

"Of course, and, I can understand why you would ask. You know how nuts I am about her ... was ... still am. I just had the thought ... that if we knew where they live, maybe we could learn something about his operations. You know ... kind of spy on them."

"Son," John said, taking a slow deep breath then exhaling, "that could be _very_ dangerous."

"Well! Somebody's got to do something! I just feel so utterly helpless ... in all of this horrible, screwed up mess."

John plopped down at the end of the pew where he was at and wiped beaded sweat from his brow. "Must be a hundred in here." He let his arm back down. "I feel a bit helpless, myself. And, I totally agree. But we are just two mortal men against God only knows what!"

"Shouldn't we ... couldn't we ... alert the people?"

"I do intend to speak with some of the men in the church. The one's I feel can be trusted, tell them what we know to be fact. That is, as much as I think they can believe about any and all of it."

"Do you think it will do any good?"

"Maybe not. At least, they will be alerted to the situation. I figure telling the ones we can is better than leaving everyone ignorant of the problem. I figure sooner or later, since Jenny and her 'husband' are living here, one of us is going to bump into her. She was on speaking terms with us when she married him. There is no reason for her to not be friendly. Unless, he has forbidden her to speak or talk to us. I really do not believe he would do that. I'm sure he doesn't consider us a threat. There would be no reason for him to." He shrugged.

"You really think so?"

"Who knows? If she's unhappy, she just might say something to one of us that would be helpful. Helpful to us. God knows we probably can't do a lot to help her. Not right now. Of course, I have no idea what that could possibly be, but it is a slim chance. A thought. And the more I think about it, probably a ridiculous one. But," he shrugged again, "who knows?"

"Anymore, I figure anything is possible."

"There is one thing I have thought of."

"Yeah. What's that?"

"There _is_ one who can deal with him – God Almighty. For all we know, maybe _He_ is doing something about it, right now. All we can really do is pray and hope until something does come up we can deal with."

"Wait on the Lord. Yes. I hear you, Dad." David began distributing the new hymnals in the slots in the back of the pews. His dad took the other side of the church.

David did a double take. Was that Jenny who had just walked into the store? Yes! She was talking to Gloria. His first impulse was to rush over to her, but he decided against it. He hoped she would come to him. He remained in his office and kept counting the stack of tens. When he looked up again, she was taking a basket. Good! She was going to shop. He pretended not to notice her as she eased her cart up to the window.

"Hi! David," Jenny said, obviously wondering how he was going to react to see her again. It was in her eyes.

His heart leapt happily that she had bothered. He swung around. "Well! Hello!" His pulse pounded in his temples. How's it going?" He was trying so terribly hard to be nonchalant.

"Great!" She nodded slightly. "And you, David. How are you?" There was a certain inflection in her voice that revealed a certain sense of guilt she carried about having treated him so badly.

"Fine." He didn't want her feeling guilty. That was kind of another blow to his already sufficiently-injured ego. But, she did seem happy, almost too happy for him. "Looks like you're satisfied with life --. Are you?"

"That's a strange way of putting it, David. But ... yes! I am very happy." She meant it. Now that she had accepted who her husband was, realized she loved him, anyway, she really did mean it. And, she loved him with all her heart. Pan was good to her. That's all that mattered. But it was nice seeing David again. She did care. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great!" he lied. "Just great. In fact, if I were any better, I would be twins." He wasn't sure why he added the latter. He had heard it somewhere and it just came out.

"Okay ... Good!"

"Guess you're living here? In town?" He hoped she would answer with a little information, say more than a simple yes or no.

"We are. Have a new home over on Quaker Drive. It is really very lovely. A wedding present from my husband."

Thank you! he thought. At least, now he knew with approximation where she lived.

"It is so much more than I ever dreamed of," she went on. "I still can't believe it is mine."

The fact that her husband could afford to give her a new home more than stung. And she was going on and on about it, oblivious to the fact that it was hurting his already wounded pride. There was no way he could have provided the same for her – not for years – not on his wages. At least, nothing that would touch something so elaborate as what she was describing. She finally stopped babbling about it and all he could say was, "That's terrific." He made an honest effort to sound enthused, but he was far from it.

"Yeah, I am still just as excited about it as I was the first time I saw it," she lied. She could have cared less that first time. "It's really a nice neighborhood, not far from Mom's."

Again, all he could think to say was, "That's convenient."

"Of course, Mom really likes the idea of us being so close, too."

"Bet she does." He could still picture Mattie flat out on the bed in his parents' guest room that day, not so long ago, worried sick about her daughter. Now, the poor woman was just as totally deluded and blind as her daughter to the charms of her son-in-law."

"Well," she sighed, stepping back with her cart, "guess I better get to my shopping. See you later." She waved with a flip of her hand as though she were saying goodbye to a casual acquaintance.

That stung. "Sure, Jennifer. Take care." His eyes filled with tears, but he fought them back the best he could.

"You too," she said, disappearing around the closest aisle.

There was a new swing in her walk, a sensual, provocative swing, not the walk of the Jenny, the woman, he knew so well. There was something else new about her. Yes! She was more voluptuous.

He was ill.

Pan was gone a lot, and he never told Jenny what he was doing or where he was going. What's more, he was always wearing that uniform. She realized he had his obligations. There was more, though. Something going on. Something big. She was full of curiosity as to what it could be. Considering who he was, it could be most anything.

Those black uniforms were everywhere: stores, banks, malls, all over town. All the soldiers knew who she was, nodding to her slightly as she passed by, and once in a while, they would even salute her.

One soldier had been in Safeway shopping with his wife when a boy of around ten years old approached him and questioned him about the uniform. The tall soldier looked at Jenny, who was in the same aisle, and then back to the boy. "We're a _special_ branch of the armed forces, son. The SSS." He pointed out the red letters on his left shoulder.

"Never heard of it," the boy stated innocently.

"Don't worry, son ... you will," the soldier replied. He then smiled at Jenny and gave her a quick salute before moving on with his wife.

One of the S's stood for Satan. Jenny wasn't sure about the rest. She was determined to learn, though. And she wondered why he hadn't used a P for Pan, instead. Then, maybe it really didn't matter. She considered that three S's definitely looked better than SSP would. She shrugged the thought off and went about her shopping.

When Jenny returned from her weekly grocery shopping, Pan was home, sitting at the dining room table and going over a mass of papers. "Hi! Honey."

"Same to you, Stranger." She let the three bags down opposite him on the table. "If I had known you were here, I would have had you carry these in for me."

"Sorry, Jennifer," he said looking up at her. "I was so absorbed in this paperwork, I didn't pick up on your thoughts. Otherwise, I would have known you were home." He removed his hat and laid it on the table.

She moved around to his side and kissed the top of his flaxen head.

"Thought I was going to have to stay longer, but things went better than I anticipated and ... here I am." He reached up for her and she sat on his lap and kissed him.

"I am curious," she said. "What exactly does SSS stand for?"

He sniggered slightly. "Soldiers in Satan's Service. What else? I thought you would have figured that one out." He grinned.

"You never tell me these things. So, I thought I would ask. And I am not as psychic as you."

"Really? You've never complained."

"About the psychic stuff I'm not. But I truly would like to know more about what you do. And, why didn't you have SSP instead of SSS?"

"Firstly, I hate troubling you with my work. And, to answer your trivial question ... when it comes to my military, I hide nothing. I am Satan. You know it. I know it. My soldiers know it. The name Pan does not carry quite so a profound a punch as Satan. Now, does that answer your question, my love?"

"Yes. I figured that might be the reasoning behind it. And I can appreciate that. I am interested in what's going on, though. I know something is going on."

"Oh?" An eyebrow went up, and his ice-blue eyes twinkled. "How?"

"Your men are all over the place," she gesticulated. "The city is crawling with them. They're like giant ants in black everywhere!

Still grinning, he nodded in agreement.

"That is how I learned about the SSS. A little boy asked one of your soldiers in Safeway. Of course, I had seen the letters on the uniforms, including yours, but I didn't know anything about it ... until the boy asked the soldier."

He studied her intently for a moment. The reason he had been so secretive with her was because he knew she would not approve of the things he was doing.

Still, he had to do what he had to do. "Why don't you just worry about the house and taking care of yourself and our son?" He patted her tummy which was now showing the blossoming signs of pregnancy. "Let me worry about the rest?"

"Mostly, I am doing that. But I don't like being totally in the dark."

He sighed wearily. "Do you really have to know?"

"Guess I don't have to, but I certainly would like to. Here I am ... you wife, and I have no friggin' idea what you are doing. Your men are swarming the streets and alleys like army ants. Everywhere! Personally, I feel kind of stupid. They all know what's going on. I don't!"

Sooner or later he was going to have to tell her something. "All right, Jenny. You're going to find out, anyway. Texas City isn't the only place. I have my soldiers and others in the government, infiltrated all over the globe. I am preparing to take over the world."

She pulled back, studying his handsome but very serious face. "You mean a global dictatorship?"

The sobriety in his stare and minute change in his pupils not only answered her question but said it all.

" _But why?"_ She shook her head in disbelief. "You have all the power anyone could ever hope for."

"Jenny ..." he said with strained patience, as her constant inability to fully understand who he was, was deeply irritating. "Why is it that I have to constantly remind you who I am?"

"I know who you are!" she snapped angrily.

"No! You don't fully realize it, yet. I am going to rule this planet, Jenny! I _am_ the god of this world. Remember? I am going to give the people the perfect government."

"Others have tried that before. It didn't work."

Now, she was really trying his patience. "They were human! _I am not!_ Hitler was a mere, greedy puppet that forgot his limits. Stalin didn't do any better. Same goes for any of the idiots before or since."

And she was upset. He had raised his voice. He was angry, too. "Okay. Okay. I am glad you told me." She hopped off his lap. I don't want to fight with you."

"Nor I ... you." He rose to his feet and pulled her into his arms. He took a deep breath and eaxhaled, getting rid of some of his anger. "I want you to try and understand. Honey, someday soon, the _Other One_ will be coming after me. I have no intentions of letting him take me. I _must_ be ready!"

"That I understand. But why do you have to rule the world? How does that help you?" She moved away from him.

"The more people, the more power."

"Aren't you forcing them? What good is that going to do? I could understand if they were following you willingly." She poured herself a glass of iced tea and took a sip, thinking it a little strong, but she liked it that way.

"Think! Jenny! They have been brainwashed into believing that I am totally evil. Yes, I will have to force them, at first. Then I will proceed to undo the brainwashing."

"And just how do you go about that? Not that I think you're not capable of it. I'm not sure I follow you. What, exactly, do you mean by brainwashing?"

"What I have said. The world has been taught that I am completely evil. The people have to be re-taught. Once that is accomplished, they will follow me willingly. You will see. You will be standing right there by my side. However, my main concern is being ready for ... Well, I won't say it. I have to be ready for Him, Jenny. I hope you understand that? I have to!"

Pan was referring to Jesus. But _His_ name was never verbalized in their home. As hard as Jenny tired, she still had mixed feelings about Him. She couldn't help it. She sighed and set her tea on the cabinet.

His ice-blue eyes flashed angrily as he realized her thoughts. His gaze turned swiftly to her. "You never will be completely with me, will you?"

Shocked and taken aback by his sudden burst of anger, she sputtered, "I love you! You know that!"

He stood but said nothing, his expression, now stoic. Along with anger was a deep hurt that was revealed only if one looked deep enough into those eyes.

She repeated, "You know it!"

Only out of his deep love for her did he manage to squelch his temper. "Yes ... I do. Yet, I am afraid that someday you _will_ leave me."

"No!" She shook her head. "Never! At first, I thought so. But not now."

"I am not so sure. You're not going to like a lot of things I am going to do. To stay with me, you're going to have to overlook and accept them."

"I will. I promise. I will."

He had serious doubts. "That remains to be seen."

"I will, Pan."

His eyes locked with hers. It was the first time she ever called him by his name to his face. It touched something way down inside. She had said it with meaning, warmth, not with hate as so many did. How he loved those limpid, hazel eyes of hers. How he loved her!

Reflecting the rush of warmth, the love in his face, she reached for him. She wanted to get to more pleasant things. She unbuttoned the silver buttons on his uniform. "You know, it has been way too long since you took me to bed." She opened his coat and slipped warm hands under his shirt and rubbed his iron chest.

That mischievous glint that she adored so much came to his bright eyes. "Has it?"

"Yes!" Sliding her slender hands down, she undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them.

"You are asking for it, my sweet." He said with a huge grin.

She stared into the brilliance of her husband's eyes, daring him to do something about it.

"I am warning you," he repeated. "You _are_ asking for it."

"Damn right!"

With one swift move, he grabbed her and crushed her to his chest and kissed her feverishly. Then, he picked her up and carried her off to their bedroom and their bed. He gazed down into her still innocent looking face. "Jenny ..."

It wasn't hard for him to understand her desire for him. There wasn't any woman who could resist him – unless the _Other_ had a grip on their soul. But she actually loved him! That made all the difference in the universe. She held a childish trust in him. And it was that trust that he valued so highly. He was whole and not like the evil demon he was so notorious for being. She was his other half – his good half! Without her, he wasn't complete.

Ironically, it would be that very goodness that would either destroy or save him. He desperately hoped for the latter. He nourished a special tenderness for her that was unparalleled by anything else. Maybe it was because of his child that she carried.

He did his best to relay that feeling as he made love to her.

As Jenny held Pan, she sensed a newness in him, a child-like quality. He clung to her with greater tenderness and affection than ever, a sense of an even greater and deeper love than before. She had believed it not possible to love him more, but she was awakening to this freshness -- a grand, wonderful feeling that was beyond description.

There was something more than that mischievous glint in his marvelous eyes, an expression that would remind one of an infant viewing the majesty of the world for the first time, a look that only a new mother would recognize.

With this new awareness, they fused in climax and clung together for a long, quiet time. Neither spoke. There was no need. All had been said with their bodies.

For the first time, Pan told Jenny where he was gong. His duties in the pit would demand his attentions for a week.

"You mean," she asked innocently, "that the 'pit' is a real place?" She had always assumed it to be a myth.

He read her thoughts. "I'm not a myth, am I?" He said. Then he answered, "Yes, my sweet," as he rolled up his big bullwhip and slipped it over his left shoulder. " _Very_ real."

Her gaze fell to the whip. She had never seen it before this day. "What's that thing for?"

He was amused and saddened by her shocked expression that revealed a strange mixture of feelings for him. "My sweet," he said, taking her chin in his fingers and kissing her forehead, "you really don't want to know."

"You ... don't use it on anyone, do you?"

"Here we go again ..." He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Sometimes you can be most exasperating. Yes! It is my job!" He loathed the hurt in her eyes, akin to a puppy who didn't comprehend why he had just been spanked by his master with the evening paper. "I didn't say that I enjoy it, Jenny. There is _nothing_ I detest more than the pit and having to do what I do."

Obviously, he was sincere. She was learning to trust her perceptions in evaluating his expressions. "Okay. I am sorry that I am so frustrating. Maybe one of these days I will learn."

]He broke into a grin, then. "Maybe. But I love you, anyway." Embracing her in his powerful arms, he said, "I have to go now. But I am sending one of my concubines to stay with you."

"Why? I can take care of myself."

"Perhaps."

"I can."

"I do not like leaving you alone ... especially when I have to be away for so long."

"Will it be one of the girls that attended me at our wedding? I thought they were permanently assigned to me?"

"For the wedding they were. If you'd like, I will see what they're doing now. If one is available, I will send her along. If that is what you wish?"

"Yes. I would like that. I liked both of them."

He looked down at her tummy, than back into her soft big eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to either one of you." He kissed her good-bye and faded to a thin mist which dissipated quickly.

XV

Once again Satan cast a portentous shadow over the summit of the red mountain, while boiling amber smoke rose from the depths of the pit and slapped at his mighty loins. Today he did not mind so much the long descent into hell. The freshness of his and Jenny's lovemaking made it a little easier to bear. He almost felt real happiness, true joy, an emotion otherwise alien to his nature. And when his son arrived, there would be two beings to cherish.

Too soon, his rare and pleasant thoughts were interrupted by the sudden blast of a mighty trumpet. Looking skyward, Pan saw another impressive, powerful figure descending on the mountain. It was his hated enemy – Michael, the archangel. The only thing Pan held in common with the angel was their fairness of hair, pale eyes – though Michael's were more aqua -- and tremendous strength.

At one time, eons before, Michael had been his subordinate. Now, Michael held the position he once held; only Pan was still superior in appearance and strength. There was only one superior to _Him_ and that name he fiercely shielded from his thoughts.

Although he and Michael, from necessity of duties, faced one another often, they shared nothing but enmity between them. The air was always filled with the tenseness of their hatred and hostility for one another.

Michael alighted with a great breeze and stood boldly by Pan, his purple translucent robes billowing in the strong gusts.

He held a long chain of unbreakable links, which held a train of prisoners falling in behind. He handed the controlling end of the chain over to Pan, who knew how much he loathed relinquishing one soul to him ... his hated enemy. And the look of sadistic satisfaction in Pan's bright eyes made him all the more irritated. Yet, he was forced to tolerate Pan. He had his orders. However, the thought that someday soon – and it would never be too soon -- Pan would suffer at his own punishments, which made these highly uneasy moments more bearable.

"Your prisoners," he said in his mighty voice. "These are especially bad ... child molesters and murderers. The Father wants them to receive special punishment." Then, with a nod, he swiftly lifted off the mountain and headed back to Heaven.

With a wry smile crossing his face, Pan descended into the rumbling inferno, ignoring the cries of horror behind as his prisoners began to truly comprehend their fate and what was happening to them. He yanked hard on the chain and moved faster, wanting to get this job of incarcerating new souls over with.

John drank in the solemn faces of the few men and women remaining in his congregation. He was proud of them for having the gut-courage to attend. It was only a matter of a very short time before the SSS would be closing down his church and taking what they could of his religious materials. He almost laughed at himself. He wasn't sure which made him sicker: all of it in general, or the cost of all those brand new hymnals that had set him back more than a pretty penny. None of it mattered anymore, though. Not really. Would it ever matter again? He prayed silently that it would. It had to.]

David sat by Helen on the front pew. John was so proud of him, too, for the way he had stuck by his family and his faith these past few months – even in the face of his own loss – the loss of Jenny to the most hated enemy of all time.

John had not been able to gather up the courage to tell David that only an hour earlier he had received a phone call from the SSS, warning him not to hold service this morning. He was cautioned that if he did, he would be arrested and imprisoned. But, he wasn't about to be intimidated into shutting the doors of his beloved church in the faces of his brave congregation, even if it did mean going to jail and possibly staying there. He forced a smile and asked everyone to pray that Jesus would come soon ... very soon ... and save them all from this horrible, living nightmare.

It was a bird-chirping, bright and sunlit summer day. Jenny decided to take a drive. The blonde concubine Pan had staying with Jenny had really wanted to come along, but Jenny had put her foot down, refusing, then explaining that she might visit her mother, and she wanted to visit with her alone. She assured the girl that she would take full responsibility for her actions. The girl had no choice but to agree.

Jenny also wished she could have had one of her original maids from her wedding. But she had been informed by her husband that they had already been assigned elsewhere. He had said he could get them, if she insisted. But this new girl was just as good. Jenny had seen the hurt look on the girl's face, so said that she would do just fine.

The congregation had just finished singing REVIVE US AGAIN when the wail of sirens invaded the air. John snapped his hymnal shut and stood erect and silent, eyes glued to the front and side doors, waiting in anticipation for them to fly open.

Seeing that his father was looking expectantly at the doors, David jumped up and stood by his side. No sooner had he reached his dad when the soldiers burst through the doors. The captain was obviously no man to argue with. He made no attempts to hide his mean nature, and his thin black mustache only added to the scowl of his demeanor. Going straight up to John, he held out a neatly folded white paper and said, "John Miller, you are under arrest." He ignored the rebukes from the crowd and signaled for his men to quiet them, then he continued, "You are under arrest for you blatant refusal to close this church at the direct order of Commander General Robin Satanail. You have deliberately broken the law code: 7147 by openly holding public worship. I am here to place you under arrest and to confiscate all religious materials, _especially_ your Bibles."

John's first impulse was to knock the sonovabitch right in the kisser. _The congregation, though._ Soldiers at every pew, and still more were filing in the doors from every entrance to the church, waiting to take the situation in hand. He didn't want to chance his people being hurt. It took everything within him to restrain himself, but he did.

"Dad?" It was apparent that David desperately wanted to do something. Anything. But he had no idea what.

"It's okay, Son."

Helen ran up and took her place at her husband's side, between him and their son. She took her husband's strong hand. He was trembling. It broke her heart, but she fought back her tears, not wanting him to know how terrified she was.

"No! It's not all right," David said, staring into the captain's black eyes. "You have no right to come in my dad's church. No right at all."

Cold and calculating, the officer stared back. "It is your dad who has broken the law and, obviously, you are an accomplice by taking his side. Therefore, I am placing you and this woman ... whom I presume to be your mother ... under arrest as well."

"No!" Helen protested and spit at the soldier's otherwise immaculate face, making a direct hit on his left cheek.

His jaw twitched. Disdainfully, the captain wiped away the spit. "Handcuff her! And get her out of my sight!" She was immediately grabbed and handcuffed.

That's when the shit hit the fan for John. He was around the pulpit and floored the captain before he knew what had hit him. David and the congregation joined in the fight. Hymnals and Bibles flew like heavy brown and black birds across the aisles. Fists slammed into jaws and cheeks. What had been a peaceful house of worship only minutes prior was now a battleground.

Jenny turned down 28th. Avenue and immediately saw SSS cars blocking the street by the Baptist Church. David's church! She could hear the ruckus before she opened her door and stepped out of her car, clicking her high heels on the pavement. "Oh! My God!" The Millers had to be inside. Shakily, she ascended the steps, but she had to go in. The doors stood wide open, and men, women and children were struggling and fighting with the soldiers. It was plain to see the soldiers outnumbered the parishioners and had the upper hand.

The captain finally managed to get John's arms behind him to snap on the handcuffs.

John, though restrained, at least had the satisfaction of having bloodied the sonovabitch's nose first. When the congregation realized John was incapacitated, they quit fighting. "No!" John yelled. He didn't want them to give up. "No! Don't let them do this!" But he knew it was futile.

Jenny squeezed through the crowd, which had grown considerably. Spectators from the street had joined in. She was hardly noticed with the exception of a few soldiers who recognized her. The ones who did stepped back and made room for her to pass through. One new soldier asked another, who had stepped aside for Jenny, "Who is she?"

"You're shittin' me," the older soldier replied, then took a puff off his cigarette butt. "You honestly mean you don't know?"

The young soldier drew a blank expression. "No ... I don't."

"You just got out of basic training ... and you don't know! I can't believe this! They are sure slipping up these days. That very attractive young woman is the Master's wife!"

"Woe!" The young soldier said, his expression changing to surprise. "No kidding? What's she doing here?"

"Beats me. But she doesn't look any too happy."

The more mature soldier was right; the closer Jenny drew to the front where the Millers stood and the more she saw of what was taking place, the more angry she grew. _How could they! How could they do this terrible thing?_

David's jaw dropped. His expression revealed that he could not believe it was Jenny advancing through the throng of people, making her way towards them. "Jenny?"

Someone said to the captain, "Sir, it's the Master's wife!"

The captain swung around and briskly saluted her. The rest of the soldiers did the same.

"I'll be ..." John said.

"Madam?" the captain said, perplexed by her sudden and unexpected presence. He quickly tucked in shirt that had come out of his pants on the sides. "What brings you here?"

She could barely control her voice, she was so angry. "I might ask you the same question?"

It was obvious he was totally puzzled. What was it that he could have done wrong? "Why ... the Master's orders, Madam."

"Pan's?"

"Yes, Madam. All churches are to be closed down immediately."

She looked at John –who was emotionally beaten and exhausted – then David and Helen, trying to mask her true feelings of shame and disgust. All of them were handcuffed like common criminals and were staring back at her, obviously wondering what she possibly might do about the situation. That is, if she could.

"But what _is_ this?" she asked and gesticulated with her hand in reference to David and Helen. "Did he order them arrested too?"

"It's okay, Jenny," John said. "Don't concern yourself with our problems."

"We were only going to take Miller in, at first, " the captain said, "but his wife spit in my face, then Miller hit me, starting a fight." He indicated to his swollen and bloodied nose. "His son and everyone else joined in."

Jenny was tempted to confess that she didn't blame Helen for spitting at him. She knew it would only make the officer angry and make matters worse, and it wouldn't gain a thing. "Let me see your orders." She said calmly, now getting over her shakes a little bit.

"Say what?" Shocked surprise was instantly written across his face. One could hear it in his voice, as well. "Madam? This is very irregular." This was a man who obviously prided himself on carrying out orders to the utmost of his abilities. He had numerous awards and citations to show for it. At no time in his career had he even been questioned. But now, Pan's own wife was standing in front of him and doing just that!

His face mirrored extreme humiliation, but it was obvious that he wasn't sure what to say or do.

Jenny put out a hand. "Your orders! You do have papers, do you not?" She knew how articulate and big her husband was on doing everything by the book.

"Yes ... Madam." He exhaled loudly and reluctantly fished in his coat for the papers that were now crumpled from the fight and handed over to her the one that had been intended for John.

Jenny unfolded the paper and read. Sure enough, there was Pan's big S for Satan at the bottom of the page. She would know it anywhere.

David's eyes fell to Jenny's tummy. She was growing big with a child. His heart went out to her. He could only imagine what she was going through, defying her husband's orders because of them – people she still obviously cared about very much! It was also apparent that she was equally as upset as anyone.

Jenny wished her hands would stop shaking so visibly. "I'm canceling these orders, Captain."

The hard-boiled soldier couldn't believe his ears. _"What?"_ His voice went so out of pitch that John could not contain a chuckle. He caught himself quickly, though, and hushed.

"You heard me, Captain. Remove these handcuffs from these good people and let them go. _Now!"_

The soldier's eyes darted around the observing faces in the room. Humiliation came no where close to what his face revealed. "But ...?"

" _Now!"_

He looked Jenny straight on. "The Master will be furious," he said as to warn her.

She didn't need any warning. She was already all too aware of what she was doing. "Do you not ... also ... have orders to obey me?"

She had him. His face said it all. He did have strict orders to obey her at all times. It was in his eyes. Did he dare defy her? "Yes, Madam. But ..."

"I promise you that I will take full responsibility for this, Captain. You need not worry about your position. Give me a pen."

He exhaled loudly again and reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a black pen and handed it over to her.

"Thank you!" she said very distinctly.

He nodded and then nervously observed the faces of his men, obviously wondering what they were all thinking. This moment could not be conducive to making a good impression on command.

At the bottom of the last page, Jenny wrote: "I cancelled these orders. And I take full responsibility for doing so, too. I did it against the wishes of the officer in charge." She looked at his name tag and scribbled: "Captain Rodriquez." She handed the papers back to the captain. "I think that should relieve you of all responsibility in this matter, Sir. Now, let these people go." Funny ...she could hear the words of Moses delivering the words of God to the pharaoh in that old classic movie, THE TEN COMMANDMENTS: _"Let my people go!"_ She almost laughed at what she felt was kind of a sarcastic irony.

"Yes, Madam!" Captain Rodriquez clicked his heels in schuetzstaffel fashion and briskly saluted her. He ordered his men to release John first, then David and Helen.

Jenny waited until the captain and his men were gone before she started to leave. Realizing she was slipping out the door, John and David called to her simultaneously. Tears filled her eyes when she turned to them. "Yes?"

They rushed up to her and John grabbed her left hand and held it between his two. "Thank you!" he said softly but firmly.

She merely nodded and indicated that she just wanted to leave, but the entire congregation gathered around her to thank her. But she just wasn't up to talking to them. She had gone against her husband, the person she loved more than anything else in the universe. She had no idea what the repercussions were going to be, but she knew it could not be good for their marriage.

The pain in her showed in her face. John released her hand and nodded with understanding. David put his arms around her, guiding her and helping her wade through. "Just let her pass," he said politely. "She knows we're grateful." He assisted her through the doors, down the concrete steps and walk and to her car. He held her door open for her, but before she slid in, he said, "Jenny, for what it is worth, I still love you. I always will."

"Don't ... David. Please! I know you do. And I do care for you, deeply. The problem is ... is that I _do_ still love my husband. No matter who he is."

"I understand," he said with deep compassion. "I very much understand. You can't help it because you love someone. It is okay." He kissed her lightly on her cheek, and, after she was in her car, closed her door and waved her on.

John and Helen came out of the church just in time to see her car pull away from the curb and drive away. "David, there goes one brave woman."

"You don't have to tell me, Dad. I knew she had it in her -- that something special that sets her aside from others. Must be what he sees in her, too," he said, realizing the world was looking pretty misty from his viewpoint, as well.

"God bless her!" Helen said with a nod.

"Amen to that!" John replied. "Amen!" Her husband may be the most evil being in all of creation ... but she is a good soul, regardless." He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left.

"Tell you what ... let's all go back inside and have a special prayer of thanks for Jenny. We probably won't have the church much longer. I am sure this is only a minor delay. But it kept us from getting arrested. So, let's take advantage of the time and use it in prayer for her."

David wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. "I'll buy that, Dad."

The three of them went back inside and the congregation followed them in. They all knelt down to pray.

Jenny was still crying when she arrived home. She knew full well that what she had done would change her relationship with Pan permanently.

She had had no choice.

When she told the concubine what she had done, the young girl fled to the guest room and locked her door. It was plain to see she was terrified and did not wish to be in any part of what was going to happen when the Master returned.

Pan had just finished checking in some new prisoners when the messenger rushed in with the news of what Jenny had done. In disbelief, he stared at the signature at the bottom of the page that was so obviously his wife's.

Noticing the sudden quiet that had come over the Master, Beelzebub looked up from his desk and saw the red rising in Pan's face. There was only one other time in all of history that he could remember seeing the Master turn that red. That had been the day eons ago when Pan had been kicked out of Heaven. Beelzebub was almost afraid to ask, "Something is wrong, Sir?"

" _My wife!"_ Pan spoke hoarsely. He faced Beelzebub. _"My wife has canceled my orders!"_

Beelzebub's eyes grew big and round. He gasped, "She what? She canceled you orders, Sir?" Even he found such a thing profoundly hard to believe. There wasn't a single soul in all of Pan's dominion that would _dare_ do that.

" _Yes!"_

"Ohhhh my!"

Pan waded the paper in his fist, squeezing it into a tiny ball. His muscles flexed in his powerful arms and rippled up and down his bare back. He shook visibly with rising anger that was quickly becoming pure rage. _"Yessss ..."_ He tilted his flaxen head back and roared until the very walls of the caverns vibrated with the intensity of his cry of frustration and anguish.

Beelzebub winced and slowly shook his head. He was very glad he wasn't in Jenny's shoes.

Jenny had more than a gut-feeling that her husband would be home soon. She sat at the dining table waiting, while silent tears inched slowly and steadily down her cheeks, now puffy from so much crying. She barely flinched when she heard the front door open then slam so hard it cracked. He stalked into the kitchen and stood noticeably erect beside her.

She fixed her eyes on his rippling, muscular thighs that could send her passions soaring. She wondered if they would ever share those intimacies again. Slowly, she raised her red-veined eyes up to the burning rage of his oh-so-beautiful blue ones, which, for some reason she was totally unsure of, seemed more beautiful than ever.

He slammed the now shredded paper down on the table in front of her. His voice vibrated when he spoke. _"Why?"_

She swallowed hard past the painful lump in her throat. "I ...I had to."

"Do you ... Do you ... have _any_ idea ... even a vague clue ... as to what you have done?"

"Yes! I ordered your men to release an innocent preacher and his family," she said defensively.

"You are supposed to be _my_ wife! Not some goody-two-shoes nun! Do you not know that all preachers are on the _Other One's_ side?"

She nodded that she understood. He probably wasn't even aware that the preacher and his family were the same ones who had been her friends. And he was too enraged to pick up her thoughts.

"Preachers, priests, rabbis ... what-have-you – They are all my enemies! Is my wife now my enemy?"

Silence for a moment that seemed to go on forever. She stirred in her seat.

" _Is she?"_

"I don't want to be," she said with a sudden steadiness that surprised even her. She knew he was too angry to read her thoughts. Maybe it was just as well. If he knew it had been David and his family she had rescued, he might be even angrier \-- if that were possible? It wasn't so much the rage in his face that disturbed her, it was the hurt. She had hurt him more than she could have ever anticipated. He had placed an absolute trust in her. She had broken that precious trust and broken a heart that previously, before their love, had been unable to trust in the process.

"You have dared to do what no one else in all of history has ever dared. You have canceled my orders! The wife of the most feared being in creation has made him look the complete fool."

"No! Not a fool! No one would ever think that! I didn't want to do it!" She knew her reasons didn't matter or count as far as he was concerned. He was much, much too angry.

He was at the point of crying, from rage and frustration. His pain-filled eyes welled with tears. "Do you not understand?" he snarled, more at himself than her. _"Now, I_ _have to punish you!_ If I let this go unpunished, my men, my people, will no longer respect me. I must have respect! To survive! It is not an ego thing."

He loathed himself for what he was about to do. He had no choice. She had forced his hand. She had to learn, once and for all, that he was the Master!

Her eyes widened as he slipped the bull whip from his shoulder. Still, she remained silent, appearing calm, not moving from her seat.

He was shaking as he stepped back from her and let the whip unfurl and dribble out to full length. He could not bear the innocent gentleness in her swollen eyes. _But he_ _had to do it!_ He bellowed a defiant, deafening roar, then lashed the whip at her in full fury, whipping her and whipping her until she fell unconscious to the floor.

He stood over her for a moment, trembling, tears streaming down his face. She had not so much as uttered a sound through the whole thing. Sick and disgusted with himself, he slung the whip across the room, picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. There, he gently laid her on their bed, then yelled for the concubine to come and tend her wounds.

When the girl first saw Jenny, bloody and bruised, she gagged and became sick to her stomach and clutched her tummy. If she wanted to run, she didn't. One look in the Master's face told that he was in no mood to be tempted. She kept her thoughts to herself and more than likely hoped he hadn't read them. "Should I phone a doctor?" Was all she dared to say.

He indicated with a nod that she should. He didn't like the accusing look on the girl's face. "She'll live! And so will our son!" he blurted with self-hatred. "Just clean her up and take care of her. I don't know when I will return. I'll be sending another concubine to assist you and additional guards."

"Yes, Master Pan." She bowed and set out do to do her tasks.

The child within her would be all right. The baby had his strength and immortality.

Jenny wouldn't die, but he still worried. He had hurt her. _How he loathed himself!_ He would go to the pit. Although he had just returned from there, he felt it was where he deserved to be.

Jenny lay unconscious for hours. When she awoke, the young concubine was patiently sitting by her bed and a soldier was standing guard at her bedroom door. Where Pan was? She had no idea. She didn't want to know.

XVI

It was all too apparent to Mattie that John and David Miller had told her the truth about Jenny's husband. Why she had believed that liar? She had no idea. Somehow he had played tricks with her mind. Soldiers were everywhere, burning down churches, synagogues and cathedrals all over the world; confiscating Bibles – even going into private homes and taking, not only Bibles, but other religious materials as well. No one was allowed to mention the name of God, not at the risk of losing their tongue.

Everything was monitored: television, the internet, radio programming and newspapers, feeding the people nothing but propaganda, flagrantly distorting the truth. It was like she had heard of Nazi Germany and the Gestapo. It was happening all over again! Only this time, it was happening to the entire world and _all_ faiths. And someone much more powerful than Hitler was behind it all. That someone was her son-in-law!

What really caused her grief and made her ill was the knowledge that Jenny had lied to her just as much and just as outrageously as that husband of hers. It wasn't like her daughter to lie, not Jenny. She had always been so painfully honest. It was _His_ influence. Jenny wasn't to blame. She just wasn't herself, not anymore. And it sacred Mattie that she might not ever be. She prayed that she had not lost her sweet daughter to this monster forever.

Mattie had not seen her daughter in weeks, and she wanted to see her in the worst way.

As much as she hated to step foot on Pan's ground, she was determined to see her daughter. Nervously, she went up to the big white door and raised her hand, clutching her small handkerchief and knocked. She was surprised when a uniformed guard answered the door. "Is Jenny home?" she asked, staring into Asian eyes.

"Yes. However, the Master does not allow outsiders in."

"I am _no_ outsider!" she said with indignation. "I have you to know that I am Jenny's mother, young man. And I demand to see my daughter!"

"Sorry," he said with a hint of understanding in his black eyes. "But the Master was very clear and precise. No one is allowed in."

"Well, I am sure he doesn't mean me. Step aside and let me pass."

Jenny overheard her mother arguing with the guard at the front door. She managed to pull herself out of bed and pulled on her purple satin robe. It was painful to move, but she had to see her mother. Her mother was the only person that she had to care about now or desired to see.

"Still can't let you in, Lady," the guard said.

"Let my mother in!" Jenny demanded, having come up from behind him. "I have a right to see her!"

He turned and faced Jenny and replied, "The Master left strict orders, Madam."

"To _hell_ with his orders!" As soon as the words left her mouth she realized that that was probably where Pan was. If she had not been so angry with him, she would have found the irony amusing.

"We are no longer required to take orders from you, Madam," he replied succinctly.

Jenny reached up and shoved past the Asian guard. "I want her to come in!"

"Ohhhh ... my baby," Mattie gasped upon seeing Jenny's bruises and welts. "What has that monster done to you?"

The guard stepped between them. Mattie beat his chest with her fists. "Let me see her!"

"No! You can't!" He picked Mattie up by her waist as though she were a pack of potatoes and started with her for her car. He was about to put her inside when Pan drove up in a black Mercedes.

"What's the problem, Coligado?" Pan asked the guard.

"He won't let me see Jenny, you monster!" Mattie snarled. "I want to see my daughter! What have you done to her?"

He ignored her cutting words, biting his bottom lip. "Put her down, Coligado. She can't do any harm. Let her see Jenny."

"Yes, Master." He was glad to be relieved of the kicking woman.

Mattie rushed up to Jenny, throwing her arms around her, holding on tight. "My baby. My little girl! What has he done to you?"

"It's okay, Mama. Let's go inside," she said to her mother, holding her husband's gaze. She quickly looked away from him, though, not wanting to see any sign of feelings that might be there.

"No! It's not okay," Mattie insisted as she followed Jenny in. "He's beaten you something awful. What did he use? You have welts all over you."

Jenny glared at Pan and the slanted-eyed guard; they were walking behind her mother. "Mother, please ..." She didn't want to discuss it. "I'll be all right." Pan and the guard stopped in the kitchen, and Jenny and her mother hurried on down the hall. "Come on. The air's fresher in here."

Coligado said to Pan, "I'm sorry, Master. I was simply following your orders."

"And you were correct in doing so. However, I should have stipulated that Jenny's mother is allowed in. I should have been more distinct and made that exception clear when I gave my orders. No one else, though."

"Yes, Sir!" Coligado replied with a strange expression on his face. He had never heard Pan explain himself before.

"You may return to your post, Coligado."

"Thank you, Sir!" He replied with a brisk click of his heels and a salute. He returned to his station at the front door.

Pan removed his cap and tossed it aside on the kitchen table, then sat down and stared at the walls. He could hear his wife and mother-in-law talking in the bedroom, could hear the horrified cries of Mattie as she examined her daughter's wounds, could hear them sobbing in one another's arms.

How he loathed himself!

David slammed his fist into the wall, knocking a grapefruit size hole through the plaster. "Damn him! Damn him!"

John wasn't sorry he had dropped by to see his son. His timing could not have been more perfect, if he had planned it. "I know, David. I know."

"Dad?" David turned his red-veined eyes to his father. "Do you know where hell is? It's right here. Now! On the earth!"

"I couldn't agree more." John's mind's eye could still see the leaping red flames engulfing his beautiful yellow-brick church with its ivory-white steeple. The soldiers had returned the very evening Jenny had rescued them and burned it to the ground. Was it only yesterday? It now seemed a lifetime ago. His whole body, his entire being, was numb.

Although they had not been arrested it wasn't much consolation, not when the soldiers had destroyed his work, his dreams, just about everything he lived for.

The only thing to keep him going now was his deep love and faith in God and his love for his family. At least, he had been spared that. He was more than grateful there. As long as his wife and son were safe that was all that mattered on this world.

Locally and nationally everything was under control. Pan recognized his opportunity to spend some time at home. He had sent his soldiers – who had been guarding his home – back to their regular duties, and the concubines back to their normal chores. There wasn't even a hint of communication from Jenny. She would just lie on the sofa and stare bleakly at him from across the room. He was more than glad the welts from the severe whipping were gone, but it would be a long time before the emotional scars healed – if ever. There was nothing he wanted more than to go over to her and put his arms around her, tell her that he loved her and needed her, tell her that he really did not have a choice in doing what he did. It was fruitless, though. He was aware, more than anyone else, that he _had_ lost his temper.

Maybe he could have punished her in some other way? If he had just not been so angry ... maybe he could have thought the whole thing through and perhaps handled it in a more civilized manner?

Always his way had been violent. Even before his fall. In spite of the misconceptions of man, Angels were not created to be the gentle, rosy-cheeked little cherubs so many humans imagined them to be. They were created for fierce battle and to protect the rest of God's creation. Violence was what he knew, what he understood, his means of asserting power, his right arm of strength. Until he had fallen in love with this lovely human female, violence had been sufficient enough.

It had been everything outside of his need to find a way to free himself from his impending fate. Now, he despised himself for it, more than ever.

Jenny wished Pan would leave. How could he sit there so calmly, sipping on iced tea and watching her so placidly? Hadn't he done enough? She couldn't even cry anymore. How could he have shown so much love and tenderness one day, then the next, beat her so mercilessly, was beyond her comprehension. She was void of emotion ... empty.

The baby suddenly moved. It wasn't the first time. She had been feeling movement for a long time, but she had not told him. Why should she? She didn't give a rat's ass. Almost unconsciously, she slipped her hand down to her swollen belly and where she could feel either the baby's foot or hand pushing from inside against her hand.

Picking up Jenny's thoughts, Pan's pulse quickened. His son!

Seeing he understood, she quickly moved her hand away, but he rose swiftly from his chair and came to her, anyway. He sat beside her and gently put his hand to her tummy.

Upon feeling the movements in her belly, he smiled warmly, and it cut like a knife into her heart. She turned her face away from his.

It had been Pan's wish that such a precious moment would be shared under much happier circumstances. He realized she must have been feeling movement for some time and had not told him. He also understood that she could not care less. That hurt. He rose and left her alone, going to the kitchen to do some paperwork.

Jenny had had enough of the sofa, tired of lying around. Period! Tired of the whole damn thing. She went to the kitchen where he was.

"He looked up from his papers and into her twisted expression. "You want something?"

"Yeah! To get away from you! I want to move in with my mother."

At least she was speaking. But she wasn't going to have her way, regardless. "No," was his simple answer.

"Why not? There's nothing between us anymore. You mean zilch to me. And there's no doubt whatsoever in my mind that I mean zero to you."

His brow furrowed and his countenance darkened. "Jenny, I understand why I might not mean anything to you. You are very wrong, though, on the last count. I _do_ care for you."

"It's the baby, isn't it? Well, you can have your little demonic brat! I don't want it. You hear? _I do not want it!"_

His hands trembled noticeably; the papers he held vibrated against the table top. His lips formed to speak – they remained silent, not sure what to say. Then he suddenly slapped the papers down on the table with some force. She stepped back, fully aware she had hit a very sensitive nerve in him.

"When the year is up, Jenny! Then and _only_ then may you leave. We have an agreement!"

"No!"

"I intend to stick to it. You will not leave one second before. You are very wrong. I do love you. I just cannot have you interfering with my work. I have a world government to run. Soon, there will be a war to fight. The battle of battles. I cannot have my _own_ wife contradicting my orders. Not now! Not ever! I realize you do not fully understand the importance of what I am doing. I can't expect you to. You haven't the vaguest idea of what I am up against. I am either going to destroy or be destroyed."

"Right," she snapped. "I've seen what you've been doing. It's on television, in the streets, over the internet ... everywhere. You control everything! People can't take a dunk without your permission. I hate you!

" I despise everything you stand for. What's more, I hate your kid. If I could kill him, I would."

From pure reflex, he jumped up, sending the chair flying across the room and splintering into pieces against the wall. It was all he could do to control his rage as he caught himself ready to strike her.

Though shaking uncontrollably, she stood her ground. "Why don't you use your bullwhip?"

He too was shaking violently. But he understood her sarcasm. It was still frustrating. "I don't want that, Jenny! I never wanted to hurt you! I lost my temper before. I don't want to lose it again. Not on you! _Please_ don't push me!"

"I hate you!" she screamed and ran off to the bedroom and slammed the door.

No point in following her, prolonging the agony and argument. He picked up the pieces of the chair from the corner and tossed them out in the back by the garbage can. He went back inside, got another chair and sat down. He had to get his mind on his work.

The next morning Pan was gone.

Jenny wasn't left alone, though. The soldiers and concubines were back. He had left word that she could come and go as she pleased, as long as there was someone close by for her protection. She was even allowed a certain amount of privacy, something she really cherished, now.

Fortunately, Pan's work demanded enough of his time that he had little left over to worry about Jenny's ever changing her mind. He now felt, believed, that she never would. There was no reason to hope. The day he had taken the bullwhip to her was the day he had gone too far, the day he had destroyed her love.

She would be having the baby soon, and he had left orders that he was to be notified the minute she went into labor. He wanted to be there to take his son the minute he was born, so Jenny wouldn't have to see him.

He would make that much easier for her. Any other problems she might have would be her own.

Jenny was relieved Pan had not returned; it was easier to forget what they had once shared when he wasn't around to remind her. She was big and very uncomfortable, desiring only to have the little demon child and get it over with.

She dreamed again. But her dreams were now primarily of the baby. There was this terrible nightmare that the baby would be born with horns and cloven hooves; that he would be brick-red and grotesque. Then, behind the child, she saw Pan laughing and walking away with their son.

Her dreams were not always nightmares. Sometimes she would see the Virgin Mary beckoning and summoning, whispering things that she could not remember upon waking. She tried to pass it all off as only dreams, but deep down she feared they weren't. After all, it had all started with dreams.

Since it was nearing time for the baby's arrival, Jenny wanted her mother to move in. After having been asked, Pan sent back word that it would be all right. In fact, he added a note at the bottom of the page, saying that he thought it an excellent idea. Jenny believed he was only trying to win her back by being superficially nice, but she didn't buy it and neither did she care. She just wanted her mother near and was glad Pan had agreed.

Mattie was soon moved in and doing her best to make herself comfortable in her daughter's house. She was thankful to be there to watch over Jenny. She was surprised that Pan had allowed it. She didn't question any of it, though. She was just glad he did.

Pan spent many a lonely hour by himself in the far reaches of the pit, quietly grieving for what had once been the most beautiful time of his existence, the short time he had known what it was to be with a loving wife -- hurting as he had never hurt before.

He did his best not to show his pain to his followers. But when he was able to be alone, he let the deep-seated pain come to the surface. Rumblings and slight quakes in the pit were the only indications of his suffering.

Beelzebub knew. Every time he felt the ground shudder beneath his feet, he just shook his head. There was nothing that could be done.

It was late evening and Jenny and her mother were sitting in the living room watching television. The new president that Pan had appointed was raving on and on about how things had improved, not only in the United States, but in the entire world, since Pan had come to rule.

Mattie, not caring who heard, scoffed. Although she despised her son-in-law, she knew he wouldn't bother her. She wasn't really sure why. She just knew it. There was something about him, something in his look, his manner, which told her. Maybe there was a part of him that truly cared for his wife. But she doubted it.

Jenny changed positions on the sofa, trying to make herself somewhat comfortable, but it didn't help the backache she had endured all day. Now, the little brat was stretching his legs again. No. Wait! He wasn't stretching. It hurt too much and her tummy was hard ... hard as wood! Why ... why she was having a contraction! "Ohhh ..."

Jenny?"

"I'm all right."

Then Mattie did something she never did. She swore. "All right! My ass! You're having contractions, aren't you?"

The soldier by the door overheard and came up to them. "Madam is in labor?"

Jenny glared at him, her face red from pain and now she was perturbed. She didn't need any of the stupid soldiers to annoy her.

Mattie answered the soldier, "Yes. I'm afraid she is."

"I must inform the Master immediately." He had another soldier take guard at the front door and he swiftly left.

"Shit! Mother! Now _he'll_ come!"

"He's going to come anyway, Jennifer," Mattie said in her mother-knows-best voice. "There's no point in lying."

Now, she was not only in pain but she had to face her husband again. She wasn't certain which she dreaded the most: the labor or seeing him. "Damn!"

Natasha, the blonde who had assisted at Jenny's wedding, came in and helped Mattie take Jenny to bed. Jenny gave her a look of recognition. The girl merely nodded and smiled back. She did inform them that she had called the doctor and that he was on his way.

Jenny wasn't to go to the hospital. Pan had made "special" arrangements and preparations long before. She was to have the child at home. They had everything they could possibly need right there in the house. Pan wanted his son born in as private an atmosphere as possible, mainly for security reasons. He knew that there were some who might attempt to murder the son of Satan. He wasn't going to take any chances.

Although it would be difficult to kill the child – him being the son of Satan – the baby would still have certain vulnerabilities. His mother had been born human, to name one. Other concerns were of spiritual beings. He didn't want _anything_ to happen.

The Filipino doctor arrived and was giving Jenny a mild sedative, as she wasn't to be drugged, when Pan came slowly walking into the bedroom. He had that oh-so-fetching smile on his handsome face that had a way of getting to his wife's heart.

Oh ... God! She thought to herself. Why does he look _so_ good?

Behind him, was a matronly nurse carrying baby things in her arms. The hand-picked nanny, Jenny presumed. Why did he have to bring her along? The bastard? He could have had the decency to leave her in another room.

The little lights in his blue eyes revealed all. He had read her thoughts. She turned her face away from his stare. He told Nurse Daman to wait in the living room. Jenny was glad for that. There was a sudden, intense pain, worse than the previous ones. She bit her lip and did her best not to cry.

"It won't be long," the balding doctor said to Pan, after a quick examination. "Another fifteen minutes at the very most."

Pan's heart went out to Jenny. She was suffering so. He had caught her thoughts. For a brief moment, she had been glad to see him. Whether she thought she wanted him to or not, he wanted to be with her through this.

Mattie was on the far side of the bed holding Jenny's hand. Pan moved quietly around to where she was. She understood the look in his eyes and what he desired. Jenny was having a very difficult contraction and her eyes were squinted tight. "She is hurting," Mattie said, more concerned for Jenny than she was who he was or their entire panorama of problems.

"I would like to hold her hand."

That ...she had known he was going to ask. "Well," she answered, contemplating the situation, "I don't see what it would hurt. She is suffering so much; I do not believe she cares at the moment who holds her hand." She realized how that had sounded, but she didn't care. She pulled her hand away, then rubbed it slightly with her other. "And, I am sure your strong hands can take the squeezing better than my frail ones."

Mattie's words about Jenny not caring who held her hand had cut deep, but Pan was glad she had agreed to let him take over.

He could have insisted, but that would have defeated his purpose. He wanted to be there for Jenny, not bully her or her mother.

As the pain momentarily subsided, Jenny realized the hand she was holding was much larger and stronger than her mother's. Her eyes popped open to her husband's iceberg-blues. Was that love she saw reflecting there? She held his penetrating gaze until the next contraction. Dammit! She _was_ grateful to have his powerful hand to hold.

It hit again, mercilessly. She squeezed so hard that her hand turned white. And she was perspiring heavily.

"Shouldn't she have something for the pain?" Pan asked.

"I sedated her some. As much as I care to," the doctor said. "The baby's head has crowned now. Just about one more contraction should do it."

Jenny's chin quivered and she moaned deeply. Pan held on to her shaking hand, giving her all the support he could.

"Here it comes!" the doctor said. "Push! Jenny ... push!"

She growled as she pushed with all that she had, but it hurt more than she could bear. She screamed. As she did, the child slipped out into the doctor's waiting arms. She fell limply back on her hospital bed, exhausted.

"A mighty fine looking boy! And just look at that flaxen hair!" the doctor announced, holding Pan's son up for him to see briefly, then laid the baby on Jenny's tummy and proceeded to cut the cord.

Satan's heart beat proudly as his son announced to the world that he had arrived with his first very hearty cries.

The nanny Pan had brought along with him swished into the room in her white satin uniform. After letting Pan hold his son briefly, the doctor took the baby over to her in a fresh towel and told her to bathe him while he delivered the afterbirth.

Jenny, depleted of energy after her ordeal, fell into an exhausted but peaceful sleep. Pan kissed her forehead and then decided to watch the nurse clean up his son. Afterwards, they would go.

Something in Jenny stirred. An instinct. Her eyes suddenly popped open. The first thing she noticed was the bright light from the large fixture overhead. There wasn't a sound in the room. Then she remembered she had delivered her baby. Her baby! _They had left and taken her baby!_ It was what she had told Pan she wanted. _"No! My baby!"_ she screamed.

Pan and Nurse Daman had been headed out the door when they heard Jenny's screams. His heart leapt with joy. Jenny wanted their child! He relieved the nurse of their son, paid her generously and then thanked her and hurried back inside to Jenny. She was frantically trying to get out of bed. And she was crying so hard that she didn't see them at first.

"Jenny. It's okay. I have our baby." He held their son out to her. "Right here."

"Huh?" She whisked away the tears from her eyes with the back of her hands. Her husband was in front of her, offering the baby to her. "My baby ..." she faded out and fell back, unconscious.

Nurse Daman bustled into the room like an old hen in pursuit of a lost chick. "I decided to wait around, Sir. Perhaps you might need me for a little while, after all?"

He smiled happily. "Thank you for offering. But no. My son and I are staying with my wife."

"Very well," she said with a huge smile. She didn't appear to be aggravated at all that her services were no longer needed. "Yes, Sir. But do call me if you need me ... for anything."

"I thank you, Daman. I don't believe it will be necessary, though. But I will certainly keep your offer in mind."

"Thank you, Sir." She bowed respectfully and left.

Mattie, passing the nanny just outside the door, came in the room and joined Pan at Jenny's bedside. "Ah ... I'd be delighted to take care of my grandson while Jenny sleeps." She held her arms out anxiously for the infant.

"Sure."

She smiled at Pan for the first time in a long time. Having watched him at Jenny's side when Jenny was in labor had told her a great deal. In spite of who he was – some things would have to wait. He did love her daughter. She had no doubts about that. Not anymore.

"Thank you." He was grateful for this change of heart from her. Gently, he handed his son over to her. "I'm going to stay here while Jenny sleeps."

"Just fine with me." She slipped out quietly with her grandson cradled in her arms.

Weary from all the tension and worry of the past few months, Pan bent over and laid his blond head across his arms on the side of Jenny's bed and fell asleep.

Mattie, contentedly, held her little blond-headed grandson in her arms and rocked with him in the big wooden, ladder backed rocker. This was the happiest moment she had had in a very, very long time.

XVII

Jenny had a vision while she slept. There was a high, lofty hill vivid in sap-green grass and crowned with brilliant multi-colored flowers. At the crest of the hill stood a lovely young woman in a flowing pale pink and blue pastel robe. She held her arms outstretched as a mother calling to her child – the Virgin Mary.

Jenny was spellbound by the kindness and loving tenderness in the Lady's face. There was a soft radiant glow enveloping her. Jenny asked, "What could the mother of Jesus possibly want with me? I am the wife of Satan."

"My child," the Virgin said softly, "do you love him?"

"I shouldn't. I know, Holy Mother. But ... yes I do. I know that I have done wrong. I don't expect forgiveness. Still, I cannot help but love him. You see, I believe there is good in him. I have seen it!"

The Virgin listened patiently with great interest.

Jenny continued, "I know Pan has done terrible things. At the same time, I don't ...can't ... believe he wants to be evil. He hates what he is. I know he does. And he loves me. I have witnessed the gentleness in his eyes. He wants to be good. I know it!"

"Would you say he is suffering now? Inside? For all the horrible things he has done? Because of what he's done?"

" _Yes!"_

"You know ... since the dawn of creation he has defied the Father."

"He never speaks to me of it. But he is sorry. I can see it in his eyes. It is always there."

You know of course that he still plans on defying the Father again. He has destroyed the churches and taken their Bibles." She gesticulated, "Do you still believe he is sorry?"

"I know this is a dumb question. But you want to know what I truly think?"

"No honest question is ever dumb, Jenny. Yes ... of course I do. That is why I am here. Always the truth. Nothing more, nothing less."

"He knows what his future is. He is condemned to hell for all eternity. Although he knows it is hopeless, he feels he has no alternative but to fight. He doesn't want to. _He has to!"_

"Hmmm ... I see," the Virgin said thoughtfully. And what about your soul? Are you not concerned with your future in eternity?"

Jenny shrugged and shook her head slowly. "I know, I have sinned gravely. I suppose that I must suffer the consequences for everything I am guilty of. But I _do_ love God! That is why I have defied my husband. Still ..." she began to cry. _"I love him!"_

"Do not weep. I have heard your side ... and listened. I promise that it _will_ be taken into consideration." She began to fade.

"Wait! Please!"

The Lady returned. "You have a question?"

"Yes, Holy Mother. When I first started having the dreams, before I knew who Pan really was, I had many visions about goddesses, also. Could you tell me who they are and what they have to do with Satan?"

The Virgin smiled and spoke, "Be patient, my child. But remember this. All myths are based on some truths, however altered they may be. Be patient ..." She faded away.

Pan waited patiently at Jenny's bedside until she awoke. She could tell for once that he had not read her mind ... or ... her dream. It struck her as odd, especially with him in such close proximity and she had been relaxed in sleep. She should have been easily readable.

"Hi!" he said happily, unable to contain the joy in his heart. Their eyes locked, speaking silently of their love for one another. It had been a long time. Too long.

"Hi," she replied.

There simply weren't any words to express his feelings. Besides having his son that he had waited for so long, he now had Jenny's love again. It radiated from her sweet face.

To Jenny, her husband was now the man she had fallen in love with. Not the evil god everyone feared so greatly. The beauty shining from those breathtaking eyes wasn't just physical, it was a deep, inward beauty; something she had known within herself all along. He wasn't the totally evil person everyone believed him to be. There was plenty of good in him just aching to be nurtured and to come out. Perhaps, together, they could tap into that goodness and bring it forth. She believed they had a very good chance.

Mattie gently laid her infant grandson in his crib and eased the powder-blue and pink checkered blanket over him. Quietly, she switched the light out and backed out of the door to the nursery. It was then that she noticed a strange stillness and an almost uncanny quiet about the house. She had a hard chill and pulled her black knitted shawl around her thin shoulders. Where were all the soldiers? Pan had not sent them away that she was aware of. She was sure of that. Not now! It was eerie. She went to Pan and Jenny's bedroom to inquire if he had sent them away.

The new parents were holding hands; the perfect picture of the perfect couple, sharing the joy of their first child.

Mattie thought that to look at him, so handsome and so very pleasing to the eyes, one would never think of him as being the king of hell. "The little one is asleep," she announced softly. Then, speaking directly to Pan, "Did you send everyone away?" His immediate expression of shock told her that he had not.

A shudder of foreboding suddenly enveloped the room. It was as though someone had just sucked all the air out of the house. "No ... I didn't." He let go of Jenny's hand and stood. "You mean they are _all_ gone?" He gasped. There was a new expression on his face. It was the look of terror.

"Yes!" She realized something terrible was happening.

" _They can't be gone!_ This cannot be happening. I ordered extra security for the protection of our son. There is no way my soldiers would disobey me! Unless ..."

"There's no one here but us," Mattie said. "I realized that after I laid the baby down. They were all here only a few minutes ago, before I put him in his crib to nap. Natasha was making formula in the kitchen. She's not here, either. I am sure she would have said something."

A cold fear that Pan had never remotely imagined possible seized him. His men, his people, would never desert him. Never! Then he saw a white mist, not unlike a cloud seeping in through the walls. _"No!"_

Mattie did not understand the utter terror on his face. "Yes ... they're all gone."

Jenny felt the fear ooze from him. "What is it?" she gasped.

His brilliant eyes focused on the ceiling where the haze was pouring in and growing thicker second by second. He was looking for someone, someone they could not see as yet. _"No! Not now! I have a son!"_ He shook his fist skyward. _"I have a son!"_ Then an icy hush fell over him. He turned and stared towards their bedroom door.

The miasma was very opaque now, filling the room to a dense fog.

Mattie and Jenny were now in the middle of the cloud and were in awe of it. One would have thought they had been transported to the streets of London, except that the fog was such a pure, blinding white. And there were tiny pinpoints of lights flickering all through it. They watched, wondering what Pan was waiting for and who he could be so terrified of.

The door suddenly burst open. Two very powerful looking men in white uniforms, barely detectable in the bright surroundings, stepped into the room. The uniforms were almost identical to the SSS uniforms, except they were white as snow and instead of having pentagrams, they were adorned with crosses and the letters SJS.

"Who are these men?" Jenny asked, already having a very good notion.

Pan seemed not to here. He shook and trembled from head to foot. He was almost pathetic -- a poor soldier pleading to his captors for his life. "No ... No ..."

The man in front spoke, _"He_ is coming, Satan."

Jenny pulled herself up to a straight sitting position, feeling a strength that she did not know she had. "What is he saying?"

Not seeming to hear Jenny, Pan stepped forward. "But it's not time, yet!"

The house began to shake; pictures slid sideways and bottles and jars toppled off their shelves, dishes crashed to the floor in the kitchen.

"What's happening?"

He didn't answer.

Jenny screamed for Mattie to get her son. And her mother ran out of the room to get him and was back with the infant in seconds.

Still, he did not answer.

The man in front with the neatly trimmed white beard did, "We have no intentions of taking your son. He is in good hands," he nodded, indicating to Jenny and her mother, who was beside her now, holding the child. "Your _husband_ is our only concern. No one else."

Jenny gathered up even more strength to pull herself out of bed and stumble over to her husband, who was visibly crumbling emotionally in front of her. As best she could, she gathered his powerful body in her arms, not fully knowing what was taking place, only that it was not good for her husband and that he needed her.

The air itself was suddenly split by an ear-shattering blast from a tremendous trumpet. Pan tossed back his flaxen head and bellowed, "Nooooooo ...!"

"What the --?" Jenny jerked her head around to see who else had entered the room. She could not believe her eyes. She wilted to her knees.

XVIII

" _She protected the first-formed father of the_

world, when he alone had been created;

she delivered him from his transgression,

and gave him strength to rule all things."

... Wisdom of Solomon 10:1-2

XIX

A year and a half had passed since they had taken Pan away, but Jenny could still hear his heartbreaking screams, still see the pathetic, broken creature that had once been the most feared being in the entire universe, heavily chained and bodily carried away like some wild animal. If it weren't for their beautiful eighteen-month-old son, Jenny felt surely she would have lost her mind.

She sat quietly while little Luke played happily with his new brightly-colored blocks "Uncle David" had recently brought over. David had been a wonderful friend ever since it had happened. He was married to Gloria, of all women – wonders never cease – she thought, but he never let Jenny feel she, Mattie and little Luke were alone. He was always stopping by or phoning to see if she and the baby needed anything, even checking in on Mattie from time to time. Jenny was very grateful and proud to call him her friend. And Gloria was becoming a friend as well. Jenny felt she didn't deserve either one of them.

And it seemed that Mattie could not spend enough time with Jenny and the baby. She wanted to be there, not only to help, but simply to be with them. She said she wanted to try and make up for all the years when there had been such a gap in her and Jenny's relationship.

Little Luke turned around and smiled with the same brilliant eyes of his father's. Her heart ached every time she looked upon her beautiful child. He was truly a carbon copy of Pan.

Nothing could describe the stabbing, wrenching pain in her heart, the terrible loneliness, which would have been unbearable had it not been for Luke. She did, at least, have him.

Pan had no one.

She had read the Bible from beginning to end. She had certainly had enough time. And many of the chapters, she had read over and over. According to it, He would be gone for a thousand years. By then, she would be physically dead.

Or would she?

At times she wondered if having little Luke and having her blood mixed with her husband's had changed that. Was she still mortal? Or was she different now? Luke had not been sick one day in his young life. Not even the colic. There had not been so much as a sniffle. Chances were that he was immortal like his father.

Could she go literally by the Bible, though? The war that was supposed to happen ... didn't. Or did she have it all wrong? Pan had built up his mighty forces in vain. All his careful plans had been in vain. _Why had they taken him so early?_ She really wondered about all those things. But she figured she would probably never know all the answers, if any.

She often wondered what the Virgin Mary had meant in that last vision ... to be patient. She did not understand. Immediately after the dream, they had come for Pan. Was it coincidence? Or just some weird ironic happenstance?

She realized she was driving herself nuts. She had gone over and over all of it at least a thousand times. She knew he was guilty. He was the devil. They had taken him away. God! She thought. I still love him! She scooped her toddler up in her arms. "Want to go for a ride with Mommy?'

The child giggled and smiled charmingly, revealing deep dimples in his cheeks that were identical to his father's. "Want go for dwive," he said.

She hugged him warmly and kissed his fat, rosy cheek. "Okay. Then that is exactly what we will do."

If it were not for the pain in her heart, she would have relished the warm sunshine of such a bright Easter morning. The streets were virtually deserted and quiet. Everyone was in church – everyone but she and Luke. Now that Pan was gone, practically everyone went to church, synagogue or some other place to worship every chance they had. As they passed by the newly-built Catholic Church she stared at the ivory statue of the Virgin in front, adorned with red roses at her feet. Such a lovely statue, and it stood so calmly and serenely, as though everything was absolutely perfect. She supposed that for everyone else it was. But it was not for them.

Something else was puzzling to her. Why had she and Luke been spared? She had willfully married Pan, and the child was his seed. She knew that she should be more than grateful, but the loneliness was a hell all of its own.

She drove around for more than an hour. Luke fell asleep in his navy blue car seat on the passenger's side of the back seat. That was where she could see him best from her rearview mirror. She drove out to the end of the dyke to watch the foamy waves roll lazily in, slapping at the shore before slipping back into the depths. She and the baby spent a lot of time here now, as it was one of the few places she could feel any semblance of inner peace.

There was ample room at the beach to park today. There were numerous tire and footprints left fresh from the crowd that had come out earlier for the sunrise services. The people were all gone. She was glad. To mingle with hundreds of people right now was the last thing she wanted, desired or needed.

It stuck her as odd that she thought about it. She found it even a bit ironic. A lot of people still didn't know that Easter was another name for a virgin goddess.

Only the goddess' name was spelled Eastre. Jenny laughed at herself. It was so silly to still dwell on such thoughts and things after all this time. And it was definitely futile.

The main thing, of course, was the celebration of the Resurrection. Yet, no one really understood the role of the Virgin. She switched off the ignition and leaned her head back against the headrest, watching the frothing waves roll in and slap at the pebbled, sandy shore, before slipping back into the blue-green sea. One after another they came, diminishing into themselves, each fading back under the next, churning over and over upon the one falling back. A salty tear slid down her right cheek. She wiped the wet off her palm. "Oh! God!" she breathed. "I miss him so!" Her eyes remained on the hypnotic action of the ever-churning waves.

She thought she heard something. No. she glanced back at Luke who was still asleep in his car seat, looking ever bit the sweet and innocent child he was. It was probably her imagination. Only ... she heard it again. Louder!

Someone was calling her name!

In the deepest region of the pit, Pan sat alone. Wails and cries of intense physical and emotional agony rose from distant, echoing chambers but he was totally alone. No one, not even Beelzebub, was with him. He was limited to a tiny three-foot by five-foot island of limestone, surrounded by bubbling, molten lava. Across the lake of raging fire were stalactites and stalagmites of all shapes and sizes, casting eerie shadows around the cavern walls. The stench was sickening, worse than anything anyone could imagine on the earth. He had known it was coming. It was the timing that had gotten to him – just when he had found genuine love – for the first time! And just when his son was born!

All he could think of was Jenny and his son. He longed for a mere glimpse of his sweet, innocent family. In vain desperation he called, "Jenny!" He knew she didn't hear, but deep in his soul he hoped that by some ... miracle ... she would. Not that he was deserving of any. He knew that he wasn't.

She had been a virgin. That fact along with her innocence had been his hope when he chose her; and, to his surprise, as he had studied her, he had fallen deeply in love with her sweetness and goodness. It had been then that he had started appearing to her, all the while, falling deeper and deeper in love with her. He called again, _"Jenny! My_ _sweet, sweet Jenny!_ Come! Please come! You are the only one who can save me! Please come," he said again, his voice dropping down to an exhausted whisper now.

Jenny stuck the tip of her pinky in her right ear and wriggled it around. Had she heard --? She withdrew her little finger. Yes! There it was again – _His_ voice! "I've got to be dreaming!" She sat forward and peered out over the water. A faint, fuzzy ball of white hovered there. She rubbed her eyes. The light swirled and played against the foam and grew and changed form. Jenny watched with transfixed eyes on the spot. She could barely make out a long flowing robe. A familiar, gentle face formed \--

The Virgin Mary.

She was walking on the surface of the waves towards the shore and Jenny's car. Jenny quickly jumped out, reached in the back seat and unbuckled her sleeping baby and took him in her arms, and then headed across the pebbled beach to the shoreline to wait for the Virgin.

The Holy Mother was speaking to her, "Come, Jenny. Don't you hear him calling? He needs you."

"Yes ... but what can I do?"

The Lady held out her hand. "Just come."

Transporting baby Luke on her right hip, Jenny took hold of the Virgin's hand with her left hand. "Where are we going, Holy Mother?"

"You _do_ love him, don't you?"

"Yes! Only, I don't understand." She looked down at her feet and realized that she, too, was walking on the water. How was that possible?

"Remember what you learned about the dying and reviving gods?"

"Yes ... except that has to do with pagan religions, doesn't it? You are the mother of Jesus."

"That is correct."

"I confess ... I really do not understand."

"Jenny, think! Don't you remember Melchizedek? Jesus is of his order, a _different_ tribe than Moses and Aaron."

"Yes. Melchizedek was the high priest of the Canaanites. I don't believe it is really clear in the Bible. But wasn't that a pagan or goddess religion?"

"Yes that is true. And there were other religions. Remember Persephone? She went with Pluto to the underworld."

At that moment Jenny understood. "Then I am ..."

" _Yes!_ As he told you a long time ago, _you_ are the only one who can save him."

She hesitated for a moment. "I have one last question, Lady. Why was there no war? What I mean is ... why did they come for him early?"

"Why, my child, when he married you, he altered everything," she answered. "He had hoped, gambled actually, that it would. However, if you had not loved him, it would not have worked."

Jenny looked down. The water was swirling into a vortex that went down into the depths of the sea. The water then disappeared into a thick, steaming mist.

They descended down, deeper and deeper, further and further, into an eerie reality that was not of the earth or anything remotely familiar. Jenny lost all sense of time and of the world behind, the world she knew. Everything was hidden in the hot, dense fog.

The Virgin stopped and turned to face Jenny. "Hurry along ... quickly. He's calling you."

At that moment she heard Pan crying out for her. His screams were growing louder. They took a few more steps downward and the stinging mist suddenly cleared. They were standing at the summit of a mammoth crimson mountain, peering down into an awesome, rumbling, smoke-filled pit. A tall and muscular angel stood guard at the entrance. He saw the Holy Mother and Jenny with baby Luke. He smiled and stepped aside.

There the Virgin let loose of Jenny's hand. "From here," she said, "you and Luke must travel alone without me. You will be able to find your way by Pan's voice."

Hot air bit at Jenny's face as she gazed down into the angry flames and stench. She heard Pan call again. Briefly, she faced the Lady. "Thank you, Holy Mother." Then, with Luke in her arms, she began her trek down into the fiery pit.

Luke had been awake for some time now. And he was holding tight to his mother, his small fingers clenched to her blouse, too frightened to make the slightest sound. Black and red burning smoke unfurled up into Jenny's eyes, but she persisted and continued following the descending rugged path. Finally, they came to the foot of the mountain. More guards were there, but they seemed to know who she was and let her and the baby pass with a respectful nod.

Little Luke pointed an inquisitive forefinger at the guards and grunted, but was perfectly quiet otherwise. The guards smiled amusedly.

Off to their left, were lost souls standing in boiling water up to their thighs. They cried out for help, hands reaching out hopelessly for Jenny and Luke. She ignored them and continued moving on. Pan's cries were much clearer.

"Jenny!"

Her heart leapt at the familiar sound of his voice so close. They had to be very near. All at once, they were at a crossroads. To their left was a large room with prisoners hanging from the high ceiling by their toes. Bats swooped down, squeaked and darted about them, tormenting them in insane play. Jenny swallowed hard and looked to her right. A huge cavern was there. It glowed with orange and red light. Again and very close she heard her husband's mournful cries. But he wasn't screaming anymore, just barely uttering her name. "Help me, sweet, sweet Jenny. Please come. Please come ..."

She, with Luke, headed through the wide opening. She couldn't see Pan at first. Tremendous tongues of fire leapt all around. A tall boulder was to their left. A big, heavy chain hung from it. She followed the chain along with her eyes. It crossed over a small lake of lava. There he was! And he was more than a sight for sore eyes. He was sitting alone on a flat limestone rock in the middle of the churning, bubbling lake. His arms were crossed over his knees and his flaxen head bent down resting his forehead on his arms. She gasped at the pitiful sight. Her heart ached with a mixture of love and compassion.

How were they to cross the lake? She then reasoned that she had walked on the water. She could walk on lava as well. She had journeyed thus far; she could go further. There was no room for logic now. There was no logic in this world or plane. And there was no logic in being discouraged. It was a quantum leap of faith.

Unaware of her and little Luke Pan tossed back his blond head and bellowed her name, having regained his wind after a short rest, "Jenny! Jenny!" His powerful voice quaked the corridors of the pit. "Please ..." was his plaintive cry. His voice trailed, softened and cracked. "Please come!" He did not see them.

Luke clung to Jenny, his grip tighter than ever, not making so much as a peep.

"Well," she said to her child, "here we go." She took one step, then another ... and another. She _was_ walking on lava! It wasn't even vaguely warm to the soles of her feet. And she was wearing moccasins. Such temperatures under ordinary conditions would have instantly melted, even vaporized, not only the soles of her shoes but her feet.

Boiling and churning, the multi-colored liquid spat and flew in the air. It was more than hot! But to her and little Luke it wasn't. She shook her head in wonder, but she didn't dare question it, and continued on, growing closer and closer to her husband. "We're coming, Pan. Honey, we are coming!"

Pan jerked his tow head up. Did he really hear Jenny's voice? "Jenny?"

"Here we are, Pan!"

Through the flames and steam he could make out the fine figures of his wife and his son straddled on her hip. They _were_ coming after him! _"Jenny!"_ He stood in spite of the weight of the heavy chain pulling on his neck. "Jenny! Luke! Jenny!" He reached out his long arms in anticipation, waiting for her and their child. His ice-blue eyes filled with tears and happiness ... tears of salvation! _His virgin had_ _come for him!_ "Oh, Jenny ... Jenny ... My sweet, sweet Jenny and Luke!"

"Pan ..." she said softly.

Somehow baby Luke knew Pan was his father. He broke into a huge grin and pointed a chubby finger at Pan. "Daddy!"

Jenny was totally surprised. She smiled back at their son. They had never taken photographs. "Yes, Luke," she answered. "Your daddy."

She reached out too and took Pan's strong hand in hers and leapt onto the limestone. When he released her hand she wiped the tears from his wet cheek, then gazed into those awesome eyes that she adored so much, once more.

His handsome face full of joy, he smiled.

"I love you, Pan," she said. "I love you!"

"And I love you!"

A long iron pin held the collar secure to Pan's neck. Jenny barely touched it with her fingertips and it slipped out, falling free to the flat surface of the rock. The collar snapped open and tumbled down, landing at her feet. She bent over and picked it up, stood straight and tossed it as far as she could into the bubbling lake. After it sank from sight, she handed their son over to Pan.

"Daddy," Luke said. And Pan tousled the blond locks that were so much like his own and gave the boy a big hug before handing him back over to Jenny.

"Come. Let's get out of this place," she said.

He nodded.

With her free hand she took his and led him across the lake of fire. They were going home!

The Holy Mother, with arms outstretched, waited patiently for them at the top of the red mountain. She motioned for them to hurry. Whey they reached her she threw her arms lovingly around Pan's neck and kissed his cheek. "Welcome back ... Son!"

The End

is iv
