"What do you mean, he didn't come home yesterday?" Chad said, impatiently scraping his breakfast plate into the trashcan. "Where else would he go?"

"Beats me," Violet admitted. "I'm worried. It's not like him."

Chad slowed in his cleaning. He hated to agree, but she was right. Nobody was a homebody like Tate Langdon. "Did you ask Constance?" He hated even saying her name, but he needed to know how much to rely on Violet's assessment of the situation.

The girl bobbed a nod that made her straight brown hair slip forward over her left shoulder. "She hasn't seen him. I didn't tell her he's been gone since yesterday. She had her hands full with the twins."

The babies had been a trial for everyone in the house. When one wasn't crying, the other was. Their wails were piercing, even in the spirit world. There was no tuning them out and there seemed to be no soothing them either. Not for long, anyway. It was as though living itself upset them. Violet tended to avoid them herself because of their unpleasantness, a character flaw of hers that she tried not to dwell on. They were technically her relatives in the same way that Michael was technically her half-brother. And, as with him, she felt no kinship whatsoever to them.

She accepted the fact that her rejection and neglect contributed to her being a bad person, but she had come to accept the fact that she was part of the darkness a long time ago. And it wasn't like the babies were normal babies. They were the spawn of evil themselves, which many faiths would say meant they should be killed before they could rise to power. But Violet couldn't bring herself to seriously entertain thoughts of harming them. She wouldn't assist them, but she wasn't going to hurt them either. Which also made her a bad person: According to many religions, letting them survive was a tremendous sin.

Either way, she was damned. So why not do things her way?

"You said you were at the market?" Chad prompted.

"Yeah. I went to go get the stuff you wanted. Tate didn't want to shop, so he was going to wait for me in the square. There was this…this thing there. Like…a life-sized sculpture of a cow. It looked like it was made of oil drums and spare parts. Shit like that. Acolytes from the church had a fire going under it. That's what's been making those weird thumping sounds at night and in the morning, by the way."

"Huh," Chad responded. He was thinking. While he thought, he finished cleaning up the kitchen.

"When I got done at the market," Violet went on. "I went back for him, but he wasn't there. I waited for a while, but he never came back. I thought maybe he changed his mind and came home, only he wasn't here when I got back. Not that I could find. I thought for sure he was just fucking with me. You know? Playing one of his games. But this isn't like him."

"He's not one for spontaneous sleepovers," agreed Chad with a grimace. "You don't suppose those asshole kids from the high school..?"

Violet made a face. "I kinda hoped they moved on when the fog settled. I mean. We haven't seen any of them since Chloe left."

"If any of them did turn up and cause problems for him," Chad said. "Where do you think they might take him?"

Violet lit a cigarette, earning a disapproving look from the man which she ignored. "Fuck, I don't know. The school's gone. They bulldozed the wreckage and turned it into a parking garage. Maybe…maybe the beach? It's been super creepy lately though."

"All right," said Chad in a decisive manner. "I'm going to let Patrick know what's going on. You might want to tell your Daddy Dear, in case he's seen Tate. Though God knows why they still want to play 'therapy'." He rolled his eyes then forced himself to focus on the task at hand. "Let's meet back here and go check out the beach."

Violet tuned out the editorials. "You want to go to the beach with me?"

"Is there any other place you can think of where Tate might be?" Chad arched a brow.

She thought about it then shook her head. "Not really."

"Then, we're going to the beach."

...

((Song to play: Walking on the Sun – Smashmouth))

White Sands, New Mexico was exactly as described: White sand. For miles in every direction Troy looked there was nothing but blinding bleach-white hills. The sky above was deep sea blue, cloudless and cold. The clashing contrast of colors made the dark-haired young man wish he had some sunglasses. Fat chance scoring a pair all the way out here.

He drove the lead van in a 2-vehicle convoy. Pietre and the triplets rode with him while Barry and Dean from the village drove the box truck. The two men weren't much alike except that they were both good physical labor and both had reasons for owing their loyalty to Michael. Both also respected the chain of command and had a healthy fear of Pietre. They turned a blind eye to the perversities that went on at night between the coven members. They were both excellent roadies for the cause.

—

Troy killed the engine of the van and peered through the dusty windshield at the low, blockish building. It was painted the same eye-piercing white as the desert around.

"Doesn't look like much," he remarked.

Pietre smiled. "Neither do you."

The warlock slid out of the passenger's seat, leaving the door open behind him. Troy rolled his eyes, but he recognized the compliment seeded in the backhanded statement and nursed it proudly. He got out as well, followed soon by the triplets, one of whom shut Pietre's door for him.

The warlock stood out against the stark white backdrop in his solid black attire. The hard sand crunched under his bare feet. He paid no mind to the rough terrain, unfazed by it. The wind teased his blond ponytail.

"What is it you're looking for exactly?" Troy prompted as he lit a cigarette. He'd gotten hooked on the spicy black things.

"A way in."

The only apparent entrance to the small building was a lone steel door. It had no handle, no visible locking mechanism. Pietre stepped up to it and put a hand on the door in a gesture that was almost tender.

Troy considered questioning him further but suspected he would only get more of the same evasive banter. He glanced back at the triplets. Tisi was scanning the nearby area, keeping alert. Meg hugged herself against the chill air. Pietre still hadn't let her have more than a thin sleeveless nightgown to wear and while the girl had exceptional resilience, it was cold out. It wouldn't do any good for Troy to offer her his jacket though. Pietre wouldn't let her keep it, and he didn't want to butt heads with the man over a futile cause. So, he pretended not to notice her shivering and smoked his cigarette. Their brother Alec was avoiding his gaze still and had been for the past couple of days. Ever since the night in Yuma.

—

((Music switch: Search for Nine Inch Nails "The Downward Spiral (Expanded) [Disc 1]" on YouTube))

They had holed up at an abandoned motor lodge for the night. A powerful thunderstorm was rolling in. Nightfall brought the monsters with it, but things were always at their worst during storms. It was like the energy of the weather drew them. It was as if they, too, were unsettled by the unnatural shifts in the atmosphere during the squalls.

Whatever the reason for the more violent and persistent wildlife during night storms, the group had agreed to make camp at the old motel. Dean and Barry each got a room for himself. Pietre kept the triplets with him, as he tended to do wherever they went.

Troy technically had his own room, but it was Pietre's bed he ended up in that night. Meg was stationed naked on her knees with her nose in the corner next to the door. She was still being punished for the part she played in the loss of the succubus and the zombie boy. She and Madison both were under similar punitive measures. Madison was still chained up back at the hotel in Los Angeles. Pietre had need of Meg's abilities on the trip but that didn't change his intention to punish her.

Though underweight, she had a nice body. Her nudity kept drawing Troy's eyes that first night out on the road. The way she was positioned accentuated her hips and waist nicely. Her hair was short cropped, so there was nothing left to the imagination.

"Do you want to fuck her?" asked Pietre quite bluntly.

Troy didn't know how to answer that. He had been with both girls by that point, but they had never discussed it before it happened. "Uh. I…"

His floundering made the blond warlock smile. Pietre's eyes were mischievous in the flickering light cast by the baker's dozen of candles they'd lit around the room. He had propped himself against the headboard with most of the pillows that were in the room. Dressed only in a pair of black silk boxers, he stroked his own stomach lightly, just above the waistband of his underwear.

"Don't be coy," Pietre encouraged playfully. "It's an easy question. Do you want to fuck her?"

Troy glanced over at Meg, expecting to see her fidgeting or blushing, but there was no outward sign that she even heard them.

"Right now?"

Pietre laughed. "Oh, my dear boy. You're still so very pure." His mirth subsided and he settled a darkly smoldering look on the younger man. "Come here."

The sex that followed was aggressive and loud, impossible to ignore for those in the same room with them. Then Alec decided he wanted to go out to take a piss. He mumbled something to that effect as he headed for the door, trying not to overtly interrupt.

"No," Pietre said. He had his cock buried in Troy and didn't stop fucking him, though he did slow his pace. "Why don't you stay?"

Alec had his hand on the doorknob, but he pulled it away quickly when he felt it heat up to red-hot. "I was just going—"

"I know what you're doing, Alec," Pietre chided. He was looking down at Troy again, who couldn't hide his unease at the social situation. "Go back to your bed."

The young man did as he was told, but he was frowning. "I need to pee, and the water here doesn't work."

"Why don't you play with yourself instead."

Like before, Pietre's words weren't a request. Alec's pale skin pinked and it was obvious he didn't want to comply but…he did.

Troy's grip on Pietre's shoulders tightened as the man thrust deeper. He tried to tune out the strange vibe in the room by focusing on that sensation. It was difficult, though; Pietre's dark eyes were boring into his, devouring his discomfort eagerly.

Harder and harder they fucked and, over on the other bed, Alec jerked off. Before things could reach a crescendo, Pietre slowed again, though he didn't stop entirely.

"Tisi," he said. He was staring fixedly into Troy's eyes. "Fuck your brother."

The young woman had been trying to read a magazine in a chair near the television, but she set it aside. "We didn't bring the bag."

"So, make do, my dear," Pietre laughed. He was enjoying the dazed confusion on Troy's face.

Tisi thought for a moment, then disappeared into the bathroom only to emerge seconds later with a shampoo bottle. The contents served as lube. Troy didn't want to watch, and he didn't mean to stare. He did both, though, as Tisi fucked her brother with the shampoo bottle. Pietre made it easier for him to spectate by keeping the pace slow, deep, and steady. It wasn't until Alec was audibly on the verge of orgasm that the warlock ramped things up again. The young men climaxed at almost the same time.

—

Alec hadn't been able to make eye contact with Troy since that night.

Troy was caught somewhere between pity and derision toward the triplet. He pitied the man's shame over something that was essentially not his fault. Pietre was a dominating force from Hell. Literally. Alec could serve his wishes, or he could suffer a worse fate at the same hands. Troy understood the position. He was in somewhat of a similar place himself. He could go along with Pietre's perversions or he could fight him over it.

Troy suspected that he would eventually understand his own powers well enough to defend himself, but he wasn't in a hurry. Unlike Alec, Troy had not only accepted the situation, he found dark repletion in the sick things the warlock desired, from himself and others.

There was a deep metallic clunk somewhere within the bunker and Pietre pulled away from the thick metal door with a self-satisfied smile. "Open sesame."

Author's Note:

I got ready to post this tonight and was surprised to realize that I'm on chapter 9 of this episode. I must've broke things up badly because I still have at least 2 more chapters to share. This will just have to be a weirdly unbalanced episode. This chapter got a bit long too. I couldn't break it up any less awkwardly. And it's admittedly pretty raw. Not the action (though that was too) but the state of it. I've had less time to write with the quarantine keeping my house full of family all the time. I know I should spend time editing, but I'd rather get more new stuff written in the limited time I have. I'll edit at some later point. The best reason there is to re-read this series once it's ended.

This chapter was influenced by Damnation Alley and my own trips to White Sands, NM. The mighty band AC/DC contributed the title. We'll find out what Pietre's after next time. Also, Michael's had some time to reflect on his ethereal experience and wants to do something about it.