Heather could not decide what disturbed her more on the bus ride home, the empty seat where Jason normally sat, or her little sister squirming in rising sexual need. She had tried to sit next to Melinda only to be waved off. Melinda refused to talk and kept her eyes averted, her cheeks faintly pink.

Heather had stared at her little sister too long, as her thoughts returned to the special panties which still sat in the pocket of her jeans. Every glance at Melinda's writhing hips triggered the image of her sweet baby sister naked save for the wonderful panties.

Heather's pussy tingled, and she squeezed her legs together in a vain attempt to restrain her desire. She forced herself to look away until the feeling passed. She had thought to try to start a conversation again, but now she was afraid of what she might say.

I'm not going to do this, Heather declared inside her head. I'm not going to make my sister's situation even worse.

Heather could not stop the segue her mind made to the idea that Melinda might fare better as Mistress' new slave. She closed her eyes and shivered as her pussy oozed with pleasant if unwanted lust.

Heather was jolted out of her sexual reverie when a loud metallic ripping noise and a lurch announced the arrival of the school bus at the next stop. As the students cheered at another "Bradley fart" -- the grinding of gears the aged driver now did more often than not -- Melinda dashed for the stairs.

Heather scrambled to follow, but by the time she retrieved her backpack, Melinda had already raced towards the house. "Melinda! Wait up!" Heather cried out to no effect.

She panted as she jogged after her little sister. She almost caught up when Melinda had to stop to unlock the front door. Just as Heather reached her, she was through and slammed the door in Heather's face.

"Dammit, runt," Heather muttered as she fumbled for her house keys. She let herself in just as Melinda bolted from the top of the stairs and into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Heather glanced around and closed the front door. She heard her father's voice, faint and muffled, as he spoke with someone over the phone in his office. She wished she had been as close to her father as Melinda had been. Maybe then she could talk some sense into him and make him see what was going on in his own house.

Heather raced up the stairs and entered the bedroom. Melinda was walking towards the window, as if she had been pacing. She whirled around and glared at Heather. "What the hell are you doing here? Can't you take a fucking hint?"

"Last I heard, I live here," Heather said in a dry voice as she closed the door behind her. She dumped her backpack by the side of her bed. "What did Mom do to you this morning? Is that why you're like this?"

Melinda rolled her eyes even as her hips writhed, her voice both quavering and husky. "Wow, take you all day to figure that out? You really are a bubblehead."

Heather did not try to quell her indignation; it was the only thing preventing her thoughts from going down paths she did not want at the sight of her little sister's increasing sexual arousal. "I just want to help, okay?"

"I don't need your help!" Melinda snapped. She paused and wrapped her arms around herself, pushing up her breasts until the nipples poked against her shirt. In a more contrite voice she added, "I don't think you can help."

"If this is about Aunt Jo, she doesn't have any power over me," Heather said. "I can try to--"

"No. Heather, please, don't try to do anything," Melinda squeezed her legs together, her cheeks pink. "I-it will just get worse. I have to show her how s-slutty I am."

"Maybe I can force her to stop."

"Just stay out of it!" Melinda cried. "You should've gone with the others to Mrs. Radson's house!"

"Why don't you want me to do anything?"

Melinda's face looked strained for a moment before she finally blurted, "Because I don't want her making you join in." She swallowed, her eyes glistening. In a tiny, shaky voice she added, "I don't think I could take that right now."

Heather's lips parted, and her hand fluttered near the pocket holding the panties. She let out a ragged sigh as she forced her hand to her side, her pussy still warm and damp. "All right. But how bad is it right now? If she doesn't do anything with you at all, do you think you could stand it?"

Melinda whimpered as her hips swayed. "I-I don't know. How are you supposed to stop her?"

"I don't have to fucking let her in, for one thing. I sure as hell am not going to--"

The door behind her opened. Heather spun around and stared.

Jo gave her a smarmy smile and held up a key. "Hello, Heather. Your mother was kind enough to give me a copy of the house key. Hope you don't mind that I let myself in."

Heather's eyes burned. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Oh, and how is Victor doing these days?"

Jo smirked and stepped inside, pocketing the key and closing the door behind her. "Think that will get a rise out of me? Think again. I never believed he was some sort of divine avatar. That was for the weak-minded. Now, where's my slutty little girl?"

Melinda reluctantly approached, but Heather stepped between her and her aunt. Melinda let out an exasperated sigh and moaned, "Heather, please, don't ..."

"You know, if it had not been for Victor's silly little breeding experiment, you would have been the perfect choice," said Jo in a silky voice. "But then that would have only whet my appetite for your little sister."

Heather wrinkled her nose. "You're disgusting, you perverted bitch."

Jo raised a finger. "Now, now, that is no way to speak to your aunt. I may have to mention this to Laura so she can think of a suitable punishment for you."

Heather's eyes widened, and her body tensed to stop her from cringing.

Jo's lips curled into a sly smile. "And just how is she doing these days? Are you being a good girl for her?"

"Heather," Melinda croaked. "Please, stop."

Heather took a breath and let it go as a noisy sigh. She tried to find different words and failed. "Mistress is doing fine. H-her slave is being a good girl."

"Oh, but that is not true. You're not letting me see Melinda."

Heather trembled but held her ground. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. The little dildo inside the panties in her pocket pressed into her thigh as if consciously reminding her of her duty.

"You're being a very bad girl right now, Heather, and your Mistress would not approve."

"You don't have any control over me," Heather managed to say, even as she shook with the urge to be a good girl and step out of her aunt's way.

Jo paused. "I suppose I don't. Regrettable. Or maybe you're not so much interested in protecting your little sister. Maybe you just want to watch."

Before Heather could react, Melinda uttered a despairing whimper and shoved her big sister out of the way. Heather did little to resist, as if relieved that the tableau had been broken. She staggered and fell to the edge of her bed as dangerous thoughts swirled in her head. She swallowed hard as she watched Aunt Jo place her hands around Melinda's hips.

"Mmm, are you still just as slutty as you were at church yesterday?" Jo cooed.

"Y-yes, I'm a slutty little girl," Melinda replied in a voice both hesitant and lusty.

"And how are you slutty?"

Melinda's cheeks went crimson. "I-I'm not wearing any underwear. Slutty girls don't wear underwear."

"Turn around for me."

Melinda gave Heather a pleading look as she complied, her eyes glistening. Heather forced herself to stand, but froze when she saw Jo plunge her hand under Melinda's jeans. Melinda gasped and squirmed, uttering little moans and sighs as faint squishing noises rose from between her legs.

"Oh, yes, you are quite slutty today," Jo purred. "Your pussy is so very wet. I'll bet it would just love to have that nice big dildo shoved inside it, wouldn't it?"

Melinda gasped and rocked her hips against her aunt's fingers. Heather stared at the rhythmic bulge of Jo's knuckles as fingers pumped in and out of her sister's helpless pussy. Heather let out a husky sigh, but tore her gaze away when she began caressing the bulge of the panties in her pocket. She headed for the door.

"Leaving so soon?" Jo said in a sly voice. "Don't want to see me use your little sister like a sex toy?"

Her aunt's words managed to galvanize Heather enough to quell some of her more prurient thoughts. "I can't stop you, but that doesn't mean I have to be here to see it."

She thought she heard an appreciative sigh from her little sister, but it was so entwined with Melinda's needy moans that it may have been wishful thinking. She fought both her duty to her Mistress and the guilt over leaving her sister to her aunt. It felt no better than their mother abandoning them to their fates.

That thought triggered yet another cascade. Her Mistress' words about her mother came back to haunt her, until she realized that the one person who might tell her what really happened was standing right in front of her.

"Very well. But I would warn you not to interfere again," Jo said. She slid her free hand under Melinda's shirt. Melinda squealed and whimpered as Jo squeezed one of her breasts. "But do tell me if you change your mind about joining."

"I'll stop interfering under one condition," Heather said in a loud voice, squeezing her legs together. "I want to talk to you for a minute about something."

Jo paused, her face neutral. "Very well. Talk."

"Not here. Out in the hall."

Jo sighed. "Really, Heather, this is so tiring."

"I already said I can't stop you, so I'm not going to try. I just ... " She glanced at Melinda and lowered her voice. "I want to ask you a question about my mother."

Jo's eyebrow rose, but her lips twisted in a smirk. "Oh, very well." She slowly withdrew her hands from Melinda. Melinda turned and shot an accusing look at Heather until Jo diverted her attention. "Now, while I'm gone, I want you to strip off your clothes, then put on your white stockings and a nice skirt. No panties or bra."

"Slutty girls don't wear underwear anyway," Melinda said in a husky voice.

"Very good. I won't be long."

Heather cast a lingering gaze at her little sister before following Aunt Jo into the hallway.

"Now what is this all about?" Jo demanded as Heather closed the bedroom door. "Get to the point and don't waste my time."

"I just had to know something. I heard ... I was told that my mother ... that she did this to herself. That she gave herself over to it."

Jo chuckled. "Really, Heather, you couldn't figure that out for yourself?"

Heather swallowed, her heart pounding. "Is it true then?"

"Very true. She gave herself of her own free will."

Heather's eyes shimmered. "T-to protect us," she added in a quavering voice.

"Oh, I suppose she's tried to arrange for that since then. Probably out of guilt once she realized things did not work out as she had planned."

"I-I don't understand."

Jo gave her a smarmy smile. "She gave herself to it for the same reason so many others have. She wanted the power."

Heather trembled and slowly shook her head.

"But just like the others, she realized the power was not hers to take, nor was it to be used for her own ends."

Heather clenched her hands into fists. "I don't believe you."

Jo shrugged. "Like I told your mother yesterday, I don't particularly care what anyone wishes to believe. You wanted an answer, so I gave it to you."

"Why would she want power?" Heather demanded in a shrill voice. "She never wanted anything like that!"

"Then why did she spend so many years searching for it? Really, you don't know your mother as well as you think you do. Do you even know what she did before you were born?"

"I don't ... I-I mean, I just assumed she was just a housewife after she married Dad."

Jo smirked. "So little you know of your own mother. She was quite into paranormal investigations back then."

Heather's eyes went wide. "She was what?!"

"Silly, really. Chasing down stories of ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Had her own little business for awhile for fools who thought every little creak in their house was some spook who needed to be appeased or exorcised. Started believing paranormal energy could be harnessed somehow." Jo grinned. "So she had a lust for power from the beginning. I guess she got far more than she bargained for."

In any other context, the idea would have conjured fanciful images of her mother with a proton pack strapped to her back, but now it was anything but comical. That her mother was at all interested in anything to do with the Darkness that long ago was almost too much to bear. It brought to mind Victor and his cruel breeding experiment which had led to Gina.

Jo sighed. "And now I suppose you'll again claim you don't believe me. I don't care. We've had our little talk, and I have a wet little pussy-slut to return to."

Heather could do no more than watch her aunt head back into the bedroom. Heather stared at the closed door for another few seconds before she dashed away and bounded down the stairs.

She barreled into the garage and raced to where her neglected bicycle sat, only to discover just how neglected when she spotted the two flat tires. She uttered a curse and grabbed her sister's bike instead. She ran it outside under the still-opening door, hitting the button to close it again just as she was through. She mounted it as she ran down the driveway but nearly spilled herself to the concrete when the bike wobbled and weaved from her rusty riding skills. She managed to right it as it thumped to the asphalt.

Diane had stripped off her clothes soon after she had arrived in the guest bedroom, but before long she had gathered her knees to her chest, crossing her ankles before her exposed pussy, as if in realization that she did not belong here or in this state of undress.

She forced herself to relax when Debby stepped inside. One knee fell to the side, and she resisted the urge to cover her sex with her hand. She had the disconcerting notion she was presenting herself for inspection. It helped when Debby gave her an affectionate but non-sexual look.

"I've decided to change tack a little with you today, Diane," Debby said softly.

"Um, okay," Diane said in an uncertain voice. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Goddess, no. Recent events have made me reevaluate my approach. I feel I need to take a step back and assess your more basic skills."

"I'm that bad?" Diane said more as a statement than a question.

Debby sat on the edge of the bed and placed her hand over Diane's. "I am new to the link we all share. I've learned more about it in the past month than I had in my entire life about such things. I want to assess my own knowledge as well as your skills."

Diane simply nodded, as she had no idea what to say.

"Now, let me explain how I think the link operates. Sexual activity will generate energy, which can be projected over the link."

"Or stored," said Diane. "That's what my problem is."

"Yes, but as I said, we're taking a step back. You can store it, but you can also use it or project it as you generate it. Now, are you reasonably sure you can do that?"

Diane thought the fact that Debby was asking implied there was a problem. "I guess I don't know. Heather was the only one I ever projected anything to and she refused it." She drew her knees up again. "Are you saying even that's defective? That I was never projecting anything at all?"

"It's possible you may be blocked in that area."

"But the line energy, I can project that. I know I projected something."

Debby squeezed her hand. "Yes, dear, you did. There is no doubt about that. But it was a different form of energy, more raw and powerful."

Diane did not think the conversation was getting her anywhere. She pulled her hand from Debby's and said, "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Debby gave her a smile Diane assumed was supposed to reassure her. "We're going to try a simple experiment. I am going to stimulate you, gently at first, and you are going to try to project the energy at me."

"At you? What will that do?"

"It will prove whether you can project your own energy properly and at what level."

"No, I mean what will the energy do to you? Any time I've projected -- thought I was projecting -- it was used right away for something. What's going to happen so I know whether it's working or not?"

Debby looked thoughtful for a moment before responding in a cautious voice, "The energy originated from sexuality, so it can be converted back. I will let it stimulate me in kind. It should be, ah, obvious enough that I am being affected. Mind you, there may be a lag between me receiving the energy and my body's responses. Please don't fret if you don't see anything happen right away."

Diane nodded and tried to quell her doubt. She watched as Debby stood and slipped out of her robe. It fell from her mature, matronly frame, leaving her naked.

Diane's pussy warmed, but it was more a conditioned response than anything else. Her eyes wandered over Debby's nude body, searching for inspiration to become more aroused on her own.

Debby sat on the edge of the bed and draped a hand over Diane's thigh. "Do you need a little help?" she asked in a soft voice.

Diane's cheeks burned. She should not need it. All the Harbingers seemed to get hyper-aroused at the slightest provocation. She should be no different.

She understood her problem. She felt should be saving this for Heather, when they finally had some time together. It was hard not to resent the need for these lessons or Melinda's emotional drain on Heather.

"Please, lie back," Debby said. "I want this to be pleasant for you."

She slowly complied, and Debby slid next to her, lying on her side. She slid a hand up Diane's belly, drawing a small intake of breath which became a husky sigh when Debby cradled Diane's breast in her hand. Diane shivered as Debby squeezed the petite flesh, fingertips swirling against a now hardening nipple.

Swirls became rubs, rubs became hard strokes, until Diane's nipple appeared as a tiny phallus. Diane let out a quavering sigh as Debby leaned towards her, eyes fluttering closed as Debby lashed at the nipple with her tongue. Diane swallowed and let out a soft, breathy moan, grateful for the slow and gentle approach. Had the other Harbingers done as such during her enslavement, it would have been far more tolerable.

Debby slipped her free hand between Diane's trembling thighs and was greeted with warm, wet flesh. Diane moaned and spread her legs as Debby's fingers sank into her. Again, Debby started easy and changed the tempo of her strokes in a steady and slow rise which matched Diane's pleasure.

As she descended into tender delight, Diane remembered why she was doing this. She found the energy stream and coaxed it over the link to Debby. She hoped that is what she had done; everything which she thought she knew suddenly seemed so abstract. She forced herself not to second-guess and went with what felt right.

Debby squirmed against her and let out a soft sigh. "I can feel it, Diane," Debby said in a breathy voice. "And rather sooner than I thought I would."

"Uhng ... d-do you want me to ease off?" Diane asked through the fog of rising pleasure.

"No, please, keep going ... oh Goddess ... s-see if you can sustain it."

Diane let out a gasp as her pleasure spiked when Debby's fingers eased inside her. She spread her legs further, her head tilting back as her pussy ached for more. Debby panted near her ear, hot breath brushing her shoulder. Diane wondered why she began bouncing on the mattress until she realized her hips had fallen into the same rhythm as Debby's finger-thrusts.

"Uhng! ... Uhhn! ..." Diane moaned. "P-please, keep going."

Diane heard another rhythmic sound, like a repeated quick slide of the sheet against the mattress, falling into the exact cadence as her hips. She glanced to her side and saw Debby's hips jerking as well.

"Oh Goddess," Debby moaned. "It's like I'm d-doing this to both you and me at the same time."

Diane gasped as Debby pumped her fingers into Diane's pussy until she strained at the edge of orgasm. Debby's hand faltered, and Diane was left hanging for another few excruciating seconds, her cunt tightening around Debby's fingers. She let out a shrill cry when her pussy finally let go. Debby's fingers pressed hard against her clit, turning her throbbing into a pounding which made her gasp with each pulse.

Debby let out a desperate cry. She spread her legs and shot her free hand between her thighs, stroking her clit with wild abandon to an increasingly strained look on her face. She abruptly let out a powerful gasp, and her hips jerked as she whimpered and moaned through the first few seconds of her delayed orgasm.

Her hand fell away from Diane's pussy, unable to sustain it in the throes of her own climax. Diane rolled onto her side, facing Debby. "Are you all right, Mrs. Radson?" she asked in a voice which quavered through the remnants of her own orgasm.

"Y-yes ... yes, Diane ... g-give me a moment ..." Debby's knees fell to either side, her fingers still slowly working her pussy. She let out one last soft gasp and tiny jerk of her hips. "Quite all right," she said as she gave Diane a weak smile. "First I had not expected you to make me rise so fast, but then I did not expect it would not carry me over."

"I'm sorry," Diane said with a small sigh.

"No apologies needed! You channeled your energy extraordinarily well. Better than perhaps other Harbingers can."

Diane's eyes widened. "But that's not possible! I mean ... unless my new ability ..."

She trailed off. Of course that had to be it. Where she still did not truly believe her new ability was really hers to begin with, it hardly made this talent any more legitimate.

"It is possible that it helped, yes," Debby said. "But I can state without a doubt that there is nothing wrong with your energy channeling abilities. So Heather really was refusing your help."

Diane was not sure whether to be comforted or upset at this news. "But why? That's what's frustrated me about this whole thing!"

"Have you asked her?"

"Yes, and I get the same answer each time: that it's a waste of time because Ms. Bendon is too strong. I mean, she might be right, but about two weeks ago, Jason suggested we all pool our energy and try to free her, and she freaked out. She made us promise not to try it. Jason figured she knew something about Laura's power that she was not allowed to tell us or something like that."

Debby sat up and cradled Diane's cheek. "I'm sure it hasn't stopped you from trying."

Diane closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Debby's hand. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling as she would do in her own bedroom. "The last time I channeled the line energy, I thought I felt Heather take some of it. She must have been desperate." Diane closed her eyes and shivered. "I'm really worried I'm going to lose her before ... I mean ..."

Diane trailed off, looking embarrassed. She had almost admitted her real concern, though she did not quite have the words to describe it. Sometimes she thought her ideas too self-serving, that she should be satisfied with that which Heather was comfortable doing during their intimate moments.

Debby sighed and took her hand. "I wish I had the right words to comfort you, Diane. Perhaps if I were your own mother I might know how."

Diane was relieved that Debby had not managed to guess what she had been thinking. Sometimes Debby seemed to have a sixth sense which could read her thoughts better than Cassie could read her emotions. "I wish I could talk to my own mother about these things. I mean, I think she's starting to catch on that something is going on, but I'm afraid she'll get involved."

Debby gave her a wry smile. "Mothers have a way of doing that, dear."

Diane managed a small smile in return, though it faded when her thoughts turned to Heather again. "I'm afraid of what might be happening right now since Heather went home with Melinda. She told me their aunt is involved in this mess, and not in a good way."

"That poor Mrs. Sovert," Debby said in a soft voice.

Diane sat up. "Mrs. Radson, I'm not sure you've heard everything that's been going on over there. Remember how she tried to enslave me when I went to see Heather on Thanksgiving?"

"I know, dear, and I know it's hard to see past that, but ... well, I admit, I don't know the woman personally. I've heard only rumors."

Diane's eyes widened. "Have you heard anything about how she fell to the Darkness? Melinda claims she did this to herself, that she gave herself to it willingly."

"I've heard she had believed her daughters to be in danger, but nothing about what kind."

"Melinda said her mother claimed this was the only way to protect them, but I don't think she believes it."

Debby paused, her face troubled. "I wish Melinda would talk to me about these things. If it were not for that accursed trigger the cult planted in her!"

"To be honest, I'm not sure I believe it either," Diane said in a small voice, tensing as if bracing for a backlash. "Not after what I experienced."

"I will tell you the same thing I wish I could tell Melinda: do not be too quick to condemn her without knowing all the facts. All I have to do is think about how my Susan was threatened to realize that I dearly hope never to be confronted with such a decision."

Diane nodded, though she was not convinced. If she had not been attacked by the woman, she may have been more willing to sympathize.

"I think we've done all we can for today," Debby said. "Do you think you can come back tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Diane said. "I have to find out if Heather thinks Melinda will be okay. I really miss spending time with her."

Debby nodded. "I understand. If you want to have another lesson, you need only show up. And if you and Heather wish some private time afterward, she's welcome to come over if she doesn't mind waiting until we're done."

Diane gave Debby a faint smile before climbing out of bed and retrieving her clothes. She had to get her mind on something else, or she would be too tempted to reveal more about her troubles concerning Heather. "Mrs. Radson? Maybe I shouldn't pry, but ... is there anything wrong with Richie that I should know about?"

Debby gave Diane a sad look. "Richie is a troubled young man, and I believe the shock of having the means to contact his father was too much for him to bear."

"But wasn't that what he wanted?" Diane asked as she dressed.

"What he really wanted was Jason to simply 'fix' everything. I would not be surprised if Richie expected his father to magically show up one morning, welcoming his family with open arms and expelling his mother's demons with a wave of his hand."

"So the Darkness is definitely not involved."

"No, but there is something else going on, and I don't know what it is just yet."

Diane finished dressing and pulled her long hair out from behind her sweater. "Is there anything I should do?"

"No one can do anything for him right now. Like his mother, he has his own demons to fight." Debby sighed. "Unfortunately, sometimes the ones we conjure ourselves are far more intimidating than anything the Darkness can throw at us."

Heather stared at the screen, numb with shock, the light of the CRT casting a pale glow upon her face. She had spent the last hour searching the web while wrestling with the town library's glacial internet connection. She had hoped her initial lack of progress had revealed the lie in her aunt's words, until she did one more search using her mother's maiden name.

She had found an article archived on a site devoted to reports of the paranormal. It spoke of how events in Haven's past may have tied into elevated reports of paranormal phenomenon in that part of the state. It had been unremarkable save for one paragraph:

As in many locales which purport to play host to paranormal phenomena, increased activity is reported on or around Halloween. Having an abandoned cemetery on the edge of town dating back to the late 1800's only lends fuel to the fire, but caution must be taken in weeding out what people think they see because they expect it from bona-fide evidence of supernatural activity. The year 1985 saw a rather large spike in such reports, but the Haven Investigation Group -- a small paranormal investigations and counseling service founded by Penelope Donovan in 1983 -- was instrumental in proving that the bulk of the alleged incidents could be attributed to heightened teenage pranking.

Heather had to read it several times to convince herself it was real, then she had to stop herself from raging at her mother's betrayal. She wished it had been any year other than 1985. That was the year Victor had tried to take Stephanie Fowler and failed when her latent psychic gifts manifested. He subsequently kept her a prisoner in her own mind for the next twenty years.

Heather closed her eyes and let out a ragged sigh. She shook her head as if hoping it would dislodge the dark thoughts about her mother. She tried to tell herself she did not yet have all the facts. For all she knew, Victor had altered her mother's perceptions so she really did not see what was happening.

The words from both her Mistress and Aunt Jo pummeled her mind. What if her mother had somehow covered for Victor by turning a blind eye to it? She remembered her mother's warnings about staying home on Halloween night before Heather knew of Victor's machinations. Had she known what Victor was doing twenty years ago?

She could not escape one simple fact which remained no matter what version of history was true: her mother knew far more of Haven's secrets for far longer than Heather had ever realized.

Heather closed the web browser and bolted out of the library. She had to know for sure what had really happened. Fortunately, she had a means to do just that.

Penny gave her passenger another sidelong glance as she rolled to a stop at a traffic light. The sun had just set over the mountains, and the sunset sky deepened towards twilight. Jason stared out the window, as if refusing to acknowledge her presence. She let out another sigh as she set her eyes forward.

Not a word had passed between them. Penny had been too shocked to speak at first to see Jason. She had been told only to drive "the Inn's newest employee" back home. It would not be the first time she had to do such a thing until the "employee" came to live permanently at the Inn when she fell far enough into the Darkness' thrall.

She had hoped her silence would give him the chance to let out whatever pent up rage he harbored towards her. She would have welcomed it; maybe then she could feel something other than what the Darkness wanted her to feel. She could feel the remorse, the sadness, the guilt, and the anguish. Instead, the Darkness let them remain simmering just below the surface, enough for her to know they were there.

Penny looked at him again, and again saw nothing more than the back of his head. Her eyes shimmered when she thought he may be a substitute for her daughters. Stacy could not have them, so now she had Jason. It had done nothing; she still felt like she was losing her daughters a little more each day.

Penny could not take the silence. She stared straight ahead and declared, "This wasn't my idea, just so you know."

Jason swung his gaze towards her. His eyes flicked around her outline for a moment before he said in a mildly irritated voice, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just ... just what I said. I didn't arrange for you to be ... for you to take this job."

Jason paused, looking both nonplussed and annoyed. "Fine. What difference does it make?"

Penny sighed. She was not sure herself. What was she looking for? Forgiveness? Yes, she needed that, for it was something she could no longer bestow upon herself. It had to come from her daughters, and that was impossible. She had ceased chasing such a pipe dream since Halloween.

"I'm not your enemy, Jason," Penny said in a helpless voice.

"No, I guess not. We're coworkers now."

Penny's fingers curled tighter around the wheel, and she took the next turn too fast, the tires squealing for an instant. She forced herself to ease off the gas and ignore the tone of deep contempt in his voice. "I never intended any of this to happen."

A pause, and then Jason said in a cautious voice, "Intended what to happen?"

"Everything that's happened since I ... since this started."

"Why are you talking to me about this?"

Penny's eyes glistened. She glanced at Jason and beheld the look of repressed fury in his face. Her shoulders slumped. "I don't know. Never mind."

A long silence, save for the wheels against the road. "How did it all start, Mrs. Sovert?"

If the question had been asked in anything other than a neutral tone, she would have thought it just another sarcastic rejoinder. She thought she heard some degree of genuine curiosity. The slight burn remained in his eyes, as if he dared her to explain how she could possibly justify what she had done.

She almost told him. Every detail of that day almost tumbled to her lips. She shivered when the feelings of confusion, anxiety, and fear came back to her in a flood, the only memory which could bring them to the surface anymore. She had debated what to do for so long; everything to which she had turned for help had uncovered only more of the corruption. She had made herself enough of a danger that she could bargain with it: her servitude in exchange for leaving her daughters alone.

Though, it seemed, for varying definitions of the word "alone."

"You're right, Jason," Penny said in a voice barely above a choked whisper. "It doesn't matter."

"Melinda says you think you're protecting them."

Penny wondered if he knew how this conversation was torturing her far more than any tirade he could have launched. "I don't think I can anymore."

She heard a small sigh, more of sadness than the exasperation she had expected. "That's unfortunate," he said in a low voice. "Because I doubt I'll be able to anymore."

The Darkness had been right. Penny had harbored a secret desire to see the Harbingers succeed. If her daughters had to be taken, she could live with them being taken to freedom. She sometimes hoped she would wake up one day and discover that her daughters and the rest of the Harbingers had disappeared, leaving town without anyone noticing. Then she could let herself fall so far to the Darkness that she would no longer remember or care.

"Your house is just up ahead, Jason," Penny said in a quavering voice. She pulled up to the curb with a jerky turn of the wheel, the front tire vaulting the edge of the sidewalk and thumping back down.

Jason opened the door and scrambled out of the car the moment it had come to a stop. He did not give her a backwards glance as he slammed the door shut and jogged up his front walk.

Penny let out a quaking breath and backtracked to her own house, her eyes blurring as she waited for the garage door to go up. A sob escaped her lips as she pulled inside and killed the engine. She covered her face with her hands and wept, tears running in silent rivulets between her fingers and dripping into her lap.

A soft sob suddenly turned into a small gasp. Her hips squirmed as wet heat oozed in her sex. Her hands dropped from her tear-stained face and gripped her thighs as she shivered in rising delight. Her tears stopped, her eyes smoldering as her pussy tingled and buzzed. Her legs spread, her hand sliding under her jeans, fingers sinking into slick, needy flesh.

No need for sadness, Penny, the Darkness cooed. No need at all.

She swirled her fingertips over her clit, her grief swallowed up by the thick pall of sexual desire. Her memories drowned in the rising tide of lust, her pussy swimming with her insatiable need. She moaned softly as her hips rocked in time to her gentle finger-thrusts. Thoughts slithered through her consciousness of her daughters naked, their pussies helpless and wet, writhing in sexual need.

So many more pleasant things to think about than the past.

"Uhnng ... yes ..." Penny moaned as her fingers pumped harder. Her pleasure rose and strained as she approached her peak, only for the Darkness' guiding hand to force her to relent.

No need to get yourself there yet, not when you have a daughter to do it for you.

Penny's fingers faltered, and for a moment they froze as if not knowing what to do. A second later, they resumed their slow stroke, keeping her excited but no longer rising. She envisioned Melinda kneeling before her wet pussy, licking it with a tongue so skilled for someone so young, watching her face blur under the burst of orgasmic fluid.

Penny closed her eyes and watched it play across her mind, the leather creaking as she sank deeper into the seat. Her head lolled to one side as her pussy begged for release under her teasing fingers.

Do you believe I would let you leave yourself out entirely? You need to remember what you are and your purpose.

"Yes, Mistress," Penny moaned. "Yes ... y-yes, I obey."

She withdrew her fingers from under her jeans and licked each one clean, squirming in escalating desire with each taste of her own moisture. She got out of the car, hips swaying to their own sensual rhythm, her pussy wet and wanting.

And you were indeed a danger to me at one time, my pet, crooned the Darkness. But you haven't been for some time. It would be best you remember that.

Penny shivered as she reached the door into the house. She hit the garage door button and listened to it rumble down, her hand gripping the knob until her knuckles turned white. Her pussy spasmed as if in a brief and aborted orgasm. She uttered a husky sigh and headed inside.

Richie tilted his head back and closed his eyes, his breath becoming a soft pant. He spread his legs wider as Cathy crawled closer. "Oh fuck," he groaned as she took his entire cock into her mouth, her fingers playing with his balls as they dangled over the edge of the sofa cushion.

A pleasant buzz enveloped his cock as Cathy uttered a throaty "mmmm." His fingers gripped the edge of the cushion as her head bobbed and his pleasure rose. She drew back and licked the drop of pre-climax fluid which oozed from Richie's excited member. She wriggled her tongue under the sensitive spot just behind the head until Richie panted harder.

"Fuck yeah, just like that," Richie breathed. "Oh man."

Cathy shivered and panted, her fingers whipping back and forth over her clit. She withdrew her hand from his balls and pawed her breast, tugging the nipple until she shuddered in overwhelming lust.

Richie missed the show. He found this easier to do when he did not have to look at her. He kept telling himself that Cassie said this was okay. This was the way not to be a dick. He had to keep Cathy from going literally insane with lust.

Cathy swallowed his cock again and bobbed faster. She withdrew the hand from her breast and wrapped it around the bottom half of his cock, pumping it with the same rhythm as her mouth and lips.

"Oh yeah," Richie moaned. "Keep going ... get me there ..."

The doorbell rang.

"What the fuck?!" Richie cried, only to utter a gasp as he strained at the edge. "Go sell your shit somewhere else!"

Cathy drew back, his cock slipping out of her mouth. "Richie, do you need to--?"

"I don't need to do jack shit except cum in your mouth," Richie said. "Fuck, I'm so close, just do it!"

Cathy nodded and devoured him again, lips and fingers pumping.

The doorbell rang again and again, and then a fist pounded on the door. Richie opened his mouth to shout another curse, only to have it stick in his throat when his cock throbbed. "Jesus! Oh fuck ... oh man ..." He closed his eyes as his hips bucked in time to his orgasm, Cathy's mouth riding it hard.

The visitor pounded louder, followed by a shout. "Richie! I need to see you!"

Richie's eyes flew open. "Heather?! What the ... oh shit ... stop already ... fuck ..."

His orgasm wound down slowly, Cathy milking his cock with her tongue. Richie pushed her back, his wet cock popping from her mouth. "Okay, blowjob's over, go play with yourself for awhile, I gotta go do something."

Cathy fell back onto her rear, her fingers stroking her pussy hard and fast. "Please, don't be long," she moaned.

Richie sighed and rolled his eyes as Heather pounded on the door again. "Just a fucking minute, okay?!" He pulled up his briefs and jeans, then yanked Cathy to her feet and threw her onto the sofa. He plopped down next to her and thrust his hand between her legs, rubbing her clit furiously.

"Oh Richie ... oh yes! ... yes! ... ohhh! ... OHHH!" Cathy threw her head back, her hips jerking as she throbbed. "Oh Richie, thank you. You're so good to me."

Richie withdrew his hand and wiped it on his shirt. "Yeah, whatever. Just stay there, okay?" He raced for the door and threw it open.

"Uh, did I get here at a bad time?" Heather asked in a small voice. "I thought I just heard--"

Richie shoved her back and off the front steps as he pulled the door closed behind him. "Forget it. What the fuck is it?" He let out an explosive sigh, and in a voice of forced politeness he said, "I mean, what can I do for you, Heather?"

Heather looked askance at him before she said in a contrite voice, "I'm sorry, I know it's kind of late."

Richie had barely been aware of the passage of time. He frowned if only now seeing the twilight sweep in from the east, having already chased the lingering sunset light from the skies. "Shit, my Mom will be home soon. You're gonna hafta make this quick."

"It's kind of a long story, but I'll just cut to the chase," Heather said. "I just found out something about my mother I didn't know. She was some sort of paranormal investigator back in--"

Richie snorted. "She was some kind of freaking Ghostbuster? She go shooting ghosts and putting them into traps?"

Heather frowned. "Fuck you, Richie. This is about as far from funny as you can get."

"Fine. Sorry. Okay, your Mom was a not-a-Ghostbuster. What of it?"

"She was doing this before I was born, back in 1985 when Victor was working on Stephanie. I have to know what my mother was doing and what she knew about Haven." She paused. "I-I have to know how she became how she is now."

Richie shuddered and glared at her. Her request had reminded him of how he had come to learn the exact moment his mother had fallen. It had been something he had never wanted to see again and was just one of the reasons why he despised his power. "So what the hell do you want from me? I can't just snap my fingers and see the past."

"I know that! You need something that belongs to her, right?"

"It's not that simple. She had to be holding it or wearing it, and I have to touch it at the spot where something happened."

"But what should I get from her?"

"How the fuck should I know? All the times I saw stuff, it just happened. I wasn't trying to do it. The only time I did it on purpose was with the fucking grave, and I'm not doing that again."

Heather sighed and turned away. "Shit. I don't know why I'm bothering you about this. You're right, this is ridiculous. I wouldn't know what to pick."

"Look, why do you want to see something like that, anyway? I saw my Mom fall, and it wasn't fucking pretty."

Heather spun around. "It's not that I want to see it. I have to know what happened since ... since it l-looks like my Mom did this willingly."

Richie stared. "She what?"

"She gave herself to it. To the Darkness."

"Aw, that's a load of bullshit, it has to be," Richie said, though he did not quite believe his own words. He was still angry enough with Heather's mother that he could see her doing such a thing. It was still easier to condemn than sympathize.

"Maybe it is. But I have to know, somehow."

Richie was sure it would do more harm than good and leave him with memories of the past he thought best not remembered. Until he had this power, he had never appreciated the ability of the human mind to filter the past, whether to make fond memories better than they were or emphasize bad memories to make them more dramatic. His power stripped all that away, the past shorn of any involuntary censorship.

"Well, you gotta get me something to work with," Richie said in a reluctant voice. "And you gotta give me a place. If it's your house, that's a no-go. No offense, Heather, but I don't want your mother messing with me."

"Believe me, I don't want her messing with anyone, either," Heather declared. Her lips twitched into a tiny smile. "Thank you for wanting to help, Richie, I really appreciate it."

Richie thrust his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbled.

(Stick with the other Harbingers like glue)

(Give them help when they need it)

"Gotta stick together, you know?" Richie said. "Gotta be helpful and all that."

Heather's smile widened, and she stepped forward and embraced him. "Thanks, Richie. Thanks for being a friend."

Richie tried to say something in response, but his throat was too tight. He simply hugged her in return.

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.

Since this is a multi-part story, you may wait until the last chapter to send feedback about the story as a whole if you wish.