Ceremony in Death
seduced I was by the power, the pure selfish greed of the other side. I hadn’t performed any of the rituals, not then. I was still observing. Then I met her, and the one they call Alban.”
    “Alban?”
    “He serves her.” Alice lifted a hand, laid her fingers against her mouth. “That night still isn’t clear in my mind. I realize now they cast a spell over me. I let them lead me into the circle, strip off my robes. I heard the bells ring, and the chant to the dark prince. I watched the sacrifice of the goat. And I shared in the blood.”
    Her head drooped again as shame whirled inside her. “I shared in it, drank of it, and enjoyed. I was the altar that night. I was tied to the stone. I don’t know how or by whom, but I wasn’t afraid. I was aroused.”
    Her voice dropped to a whisper. The music changed, slid from strings to drums and bells, cheerfully sexual. Alice never lifted her gaze.
    “Each member of the coven touched me, rubbed oils and blood over me. The chanting was inside me, and the fire was so hot. Then Selina laid over me. She… did things. I’d never had any sexual experience. Then while she slid up my body, Alban straddled me. She watched me. His hands were on her breasts and he was inside me. And she watched my face. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. It was like she was the one — the one inside me.”
    Her tears plopped on the table now. Even though Eve had shifted to shield her from most of the room, and Alice’s voice was barely more than a whisper, several heads were turning curiously.
    “You were drugged, Alice. And exploited. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
    Her eyes lifted briefly and threatened to break Eve’s heart. “Then why am I so ashamed? I was a virgin, and there was pain, but even that was arousing. Unbearably. And the pleasure that came with it was huge, monstrous. They used me, and I begged to be used again. And was, by the entire coven. By sunrise I was lost, enslaved. I woke in bed, between them. Alban and Selina. I’d already become their apprentice. And their toy.”
    Tears were running down her cheeks as she drank again. “Sexually, there was nothing I would not allow them, or one of their choosing, to do to me. I embraced the dark. And I became careless in my arrogance. Someone told my grandfather. He would never give me a name, but I know it was a Wiccan. He confronted me, and I laughed at him. I warned him to stay out of my affairs. I thought he had.”
    Saying nothing, Eve slid her water across the table. Gratefully, Alice picked it up, drained it. “A few months ago, I discovered Selina and Alban were performing private rituals. I’d come down from college a day early. I went to their house, and I heard the ceremonial chant. I opened the door of the ritual room. They were there, together, performing a sacrifice.” Her hands shook. “Not a goat this time, but a child. A young boy.”
    Eve’s hand closed tight over Alice’s wrist. “You saw them murder a child?”
    “Murder is too tame a word for what they did.” The tears dried up in horror. “Don’t ask me to tell you. Don’t ask me that.”
    She would have to, Eve knew, but it could wait. “Tell me what you can.”
    “I saw… Selina, the ritual knife. The blood, the screams. I swear you could see the screams like black smears on the air. It was too late to stop it.”
    She looked at Eve again, those swimming eyes begging to be believed in this one thing. “I was too late to do anything for the boy, even if I’d had the power or the courage to try.”
    “You were alone, shocked,” Eve said carefully. “The woman was armed, the boy was dead. You couldn’t have helped him.”
    For one long moment, Alice stared at her, then covered her face with her hands. “I try to believe that. Try so hard. Living with it is destroying me. I ran away. I just ran.”
    “You can’t change it.” Eve kept her hand on Alice’s wrist, but

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