PROLOGUE

He held the child close, his arm round his waist, his hands reassuring and warm, the small body comfortable in his lap. The boy smiled at him, his blue eyes guileless and innocent. The man held ready the bowl, and the other implements. He muttered an incantation and ignited the herbs with his thought. Then, holding the little boy firmly with one hand, he cut briskly across the neck artery with the sickle-shaped blade. As the blood spurted into the silver bowl, he murmured more prayers, his voice drowned by the shrieks of the child, and he felt his sex rise and his heart beat faster as the God filled him. The child’s twitches slowed and stopped, and his screams dwindled to gurgles and sobs and then to silence. Lifting the bowl to his lips, the man drank, and felt the tingle of power and lust race through his veins, fill his mind with clarity and magical vigor. He could see, and drawing on the godhead, he took control of the one he wanted, and began his campaign. Though this was but a first step, and the road was long, when he was done, he would reign supreme. Allowing the inert body to slide to the floor, he let his mind fill up with the glory of his visions.

Next chapter