Reign of Evil

She lit her candles and began to read from Liber Al vel Legus, the Book of Law. The Fraternitas Saturni had adopted Aleister Crowley’s book as their foundation, but upon obtaining higher levels they were provided greater insights. Now as a Thirty-First Degree Magister Templarus, virtually everything was available to her, but at the moment the words of the Egyptian goddess Nuit, Goddess of the Night Sky, comforted her and she allowed herself to be lost in them.

Sassy had more enemies than most successful witches. Never mind that she’d stolen her knowledge of the Fraterni Saturni. What had always been a men’s club had unknowingly allowed a woman to infiltrate their temple. Her adopted father, who was one of the early temple masters, had reveled in the idea that a woman might learn the secrets and felt that it was a much-needed balance to the preponderance of male magic. He’d continued her education on his own until his death ten years ago. But in doing so, he’d lost all of his friends, been forced to flee Germany with his stepdaughter, and had to cut himself off from the astral plain, lest he be discovered and the Cull Teams come in search of Sassy.

Above her the house began to rattle.

Then the rattle became as loud as a freight train.

She began to scream a spell of protection, invoking Bes. She imagined the protector of mothers and children wearing the Armor of Anhur, fire and damnation pouring from her eyes into the face of Sassy’s unseen enemy.

The noise became so great it obliterated all thought and reason until her own words were sucked from her before she could even form them.

CHAPTER 9

WOKING, ENGLAND. PREDAWN.

They’d woken Walker up at 4:00 AM and sped back to Woking. No one said anything because they didn’t know anything other than that the witch had been attacked. Thanks to the club kitchen preparing for breakfast, they all had hot coffee and meat pies. They also wore body armor and carried weapons. There’d been some conversation about whether Walker should be able to carry, but thankfully common sense bore out.

Two SA80s with ACOGs and Viper II thermal sights rested in the trunk and each of them carried a Glock 17 in a chest rig under his jacket. Not exactly enough ammo to take over Somalia, but enough for them to respond if they needed to fight whatever threat was still around Sassy Moore’s house.

They weren’t able to get within two blocks, however. Police and firemen had already cordoned off the area. They were checking people going in and out. Ian parked his car and ordered Trev to go and take a look. The former Royal Marine exited the car and loped across the street. When he got to the cop, he argued for a moment, then was able to get past. It was about ten minutes later when he suddenly appeared at the back of the car and slipped into the backseat.

“It’s fucking gone.” He sucked in air to control his breathing. He must have been running.

“What’s gone?” Jerry asked. “The house?”

“Like Dorothy rode it to Oz.”

“You’re serious.” Ian stared. “Is there anything left?”

“I’m kidding you not. There’s a basement open to the world but no house. The houses all around it didn’t so much as lose a paint flake. It’s crazy.”

“Was there any sign of the witch?” Walker asked.

Trev shook his head.

Walker sat back in his seat. “Fuck me.”

Ian pointed out the window. “There she is. Everyone act normal.”

“Normal? Sure,” Trev said straight-faced. “Perfectly normal for four men in a car to pick up a hot woman beside a place where a house went missing.”

Ian pulled up about a hundred feet. Jerry hopped out and let Sassy Moore climb inside. She had a birdcage with a cover over it and a bag. These she set on her lap.

Ian put the car in gear, turned a corner, and they were gone.

Everyone wanted to ask the question, but they deferred to Ian. Finally, after he’d maneuvered them out of the neighborhood, he asked, “What happened, Ms. Moore?”

Her voice was ragged and weak. “Can’t… won’t talk here. Get me to your place.”

Walker turned and noticed she was gritting her teeth. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face showed great strain. “Better do it, Ian.”