Chapter 9

'It is time Kaleb' Papa Noir whispered into the silent air. The Sheriff loomed out of the shadows and stood by the witch doctor's side as Papa Noir once again lifted Starsky's chin and looked into the brunet's eyes.

'Drink deeply mon cher. Drink deeply and reap the rewards of becoming my servant.'

Starsky felt the remaining shreds of will leaving him as he looked at Papa. The black face; the red teeth... were they really so bad? Would it be so terrible to play along with the man, maybe even stop fighting for a while? The brunet's mind mulled over the thought as Papa Noir's voice rang seductively in his ears and it wasn't until he heard the words "servant" that Starsky really paid attention. Something in that word roused the last vestiges of anger within the cop and Starsky blinked and shook his head.

'I aint no servant' he growled.

'Ah but you will be.'

'Never. I'm a cop an' I'm gonna...'

Papa Noir made a small gesture towards Kaleb, who took a step forwards and back handed Starsky across the face. The blow stung and Starsky tasted the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. He gathered together the blood in his mouth and spat it at Kaleb who grinned and with the flat of his hand, pushed Starsky's forehead backwards so that his head rested against the pillar he was tied to.

Papa Noir raised the jar with his potion towards the sky, made a final incantation over it and poured the thick, sticky liquid into his silver chalice. He stood in front of Starsky and raised the cup to the brunet's lips.

'Drink mon cher and we will have no more of this doubt.'

Starsky clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes, determined not to look, and fearful of the consequences if he did. Papa Noir seemed ready for him. With his free hand, he forced Starsky's eyelids open so that the brunet had no choice but to look directly at the witch doctor.

'Drink' Papa Noir commanded.

The words rang round Starsky's head like he echoes of a chiming bell. They forced him to pay attention and they scared him. Drink. Such a small word and yet it would mean the end of Starsky as he knew himself.

The pressure on the brunet's forehead mounted and still Starsky managed to keep his mouth closed as the cold silver chalice pushed against his lips. He wouldn't drink, he told himself and the voice in his head was shaky, scared. He wouldn't drink because he was terrified that if he did, he would be lost. To hell with all the conversations he and Hutch had had in the past about just how gullible Starsky could be. This was the real deal and as Starsky stole a glance past the witch doctor, he could see real fear in Hutch's eyes too. The blond was shaking his head emphatically and yelling past the gag in his mouth although nothing but muffled sounds escaped him.

Fine. Hutch was obviously as rattled by this as Starsky was, and that was the fuel the brunet needed to fight on. He needed Hutch to be strong. Starsky needed the blond cop to keep his wits about him because if he, Starsky, was to lose it, Hutch was his only hope of escape for the both of them. There was also something terrible about the fear in his partner's crystal blue eyes. Hutch was always the calm one. He was always the one who sat down and thought through a problem whilst Starsky preferred action over consideration. Starsky hated to see the fear in Hutch's eyes. He hated to be the one to have put the fear there to begin with and he resolved that he would need to keep it together for the both of them. Starsky broke eye contact with Hutch and looked away. If Hutch had to witness this ceremony, then at least he wouldn't have to witness the terror in Starsky's own eyes.

'Drink and become mine, mon cher' Papa Noir hissed and this time, Kaleb pinched Starsky's nose, cutting off the brunet's airway so that finally he had to open his mouth to take a breath. It was all Papa Noir needed and swiftly, he poured some of the bloody potion into Starsky's mouth.

The tang of copper was so strong it made the brunet choke and as soon as the witch doctor had finished pouring, Starsky spat the liquid out onto the floor of the barn. Papa Noir shook his head.

'Pourquoi vous ne le rendez pas facile? Why don't you make this easy on yourself?' The witch doctor looked genuinely saddened and this time, as he forced Starsky's mouth open and poured in more of the potion, he put his hand over Starsky's mouth and punched him in the stomach so that the brunet had little choice but to swallow or pass out. Papa Noir stepped back and placed the chalice on the black cloth on the hay bale. Kaleb too took a step back so that Starsky stood alone, bound to the pillar with his head hanging, panting, as he assimilated what had just happened.

The bloody mixture tasted both salty and sweet and the viscosity of the potion made him sick to his stomach. The liquid seemed to burn a trail down Starsky's guts and into his stomach and for a second he thought he would truly throw up onto the floor. Maybe that would have been a better idea and yet as he stood, bound to the pillar, Starsky felt an unimaginably strong urge to look up at Papa Noir.

He fought it. God how Starsky fought that urge. Deep down, he knew that his was it. He'd drunk the potion and now he could feel the witch doctor watching him. It was as though Papa Noir was inside his head, rummaging through Starsky's thoughts like an old lady at a table top sale looking for those things she wanted and discarding the rest. The feeling was at once abhorrent and also oddly comforting. Why had he been afraid of Papa? Surely he'd made a real error of judgement because all he now felt from the witch doctor was love and protection – something he'd only ever felt once before in his life from...from...

The name was on the tip of his tongue and yet it was so difficult to remember with everything going on in his head. He'd felt those same feelings of safety when he was with...

'Hutch' Starsky cried out. His voice failed him and with his last ounce of strength Starsky looked past Papa Noir directly at his partner. 'Help me' the brunet whispered before instantly forgetting why he needed the help.

Hutch raged against his bonds, desperate to get to Starsky. The anger he'd seen in his partner's eyes had gone, faded away before his eyes and at first it had been replaced by fear. That fear had clutched at Hutch's own heart and the blond had longed to sink his fist into Papa Noir's face and yank his buddy from the shaman's grasp. This was worse than any horror film the blond had ever watched. In the films, the hero always ended up getting away and saving the day. For a while, Hutch had seriously thought that he would be able to take Starsky away, break whatever hold Papa Noir had had over him, and then they would head for the nearest Federal office and report their kidnapping. It was only when Papa Noir produced the potion and forced his partner to drink that Hutch's hope disappeared at about the same time as the fear disappeared from Starsky's eyes. The dark, stormy indigo blues had somehow relaxed and become dreamy, almost glassy and Starsky's last words echoed around Hutch's head.

"Help me" the brunet had whispered but for once, Hutch had no idea how he was going to do that, bound and gagged as he was.

Starsky felt light – almost weightless. He floated on a cushion of soft clouds with not a care in the world. It was only when he tried to think that the pain returned, lancing through his head and chest like a white hot knife and the only way to stop the pain was to turn his attention back to Papa Noir because Papa would take away the pain and return him to the comfortable place. Starsky stood with head hanging, sweat dripping from his chin as though he'd run a marathon. He was exhausted and yet, each time he looked at the shaman, he felt elated. Papa Noir would look after him. Papa Noir would...No! He needed to get away from the witch doctor, he needed to take Hutch and go...he needed to... Another shaft of pain hit him and Starsky lifted his head and cried out, his eyes darting between Hutch and Papa Noir.

'Make it stop' he hissed, his eyes narrowing against the sensation. 'Please...make it stop.'

Hutch pulled once more at his bonds, blood trickling down his wrists from the torn skin. He yelled past the gag in his mouth until his throat was raw, but it was Papa Noir who took a step closer to Starsky and gently stroked a hand down the brunet's cheek. The pain lifted instantly and panting, Starsky looked up, voluntarily seeking out Papa's eyes.

'Is that better mon cher?'

Starsky nodded weakly. 'Thank you' he whispered as he leaned his head back against the pillar.

The witch doctor picked up the twisted silver blade again and this time, he walked behind Starsky and slit the bonds that held him to the pillar. The brunet's hands fell to his sides, the blood returning to his fingers in a burning hot rush and yet the pain was nothing. Papa was pleased with him and as the ropes around his feet were cut too, Starsky took a step closer to the shaman, feeling some unseen, unexplained connection with the strange looking man.

Papa Noir smiled encouragingly. 'You can take off his gag now' he told Kaleb, nodding at Hutch. The Sheriff nodded reluctantly. He knelt by Hutch's side and savagely twisted Hutch's head sideways so that he could slit the dusty dirty sacking at the back of Hutch's head. The blond spat out the fabric, coughing and spitting onto the floor. Hutch's mouth felt as dry as sandpaper and it took him a moment to gather enough saliva to form his lips into words.

'Bastard. What the hell have you done to him?' he snapped.

Papa Noir looked innocently at the blond. 'You were here, mon ami. You saw the whole thing. I hardly laid a finger on him.'

'You poisoned him...or at least you've drugged him. Is that how you get your power? You have to drug your victims?'

'Does he look like a victim to you? Does he look like I am forcing him to do anything he doesn't want to do?'

'He looks like he hasn't a fuckin' clue where he is. Starsk? Starsky...talk to me buddy.'

Starsky's glassy stare looked past the witch doctor and fell on Hutch. It never crossed the brunet's mind that Hutch was tied tightly to a cartwheel and neither did he think for a minute of releasing his partner, but deep down inside the brunet something stirred and he inhaled sharply. Papa Noir looked at his servant and clicked his hands in front of Starsky's eyes.

'Silence' he whispered and immediately Starsky's mind went blank and he closed his mouth. It wasn't that his voice was taken from him, but more that he forgot instantly what he had wanted to say.

'Let him speak. Starsk! Talk to me buddy' Hutch urged.

'Do you still think that you can take him from me? Do you still think your relationship is stronger than mine?'

'I never relied on blood and god knows what to do my work for me. We're friends...closer'n friends.'

'Ahh...you are lovers!'

You're insane! We're partners. Cop partners with an emphasis on the "cop". You've kidnapped two cops. That's a federal offence, as is assaulting an officer.'

Papa Noir turned a serene face to Hutch. 'Assault? As you clearly saw, I never laid a finger on him, and he certainly isn't complaining now.'

'But he's drugged!'

'As you so callously said, voodoo is so much mumbo jumbo. If it's so crazy, I give you the chance to take him away from me. I hold my end of the deal, but you should know the way he thinks of me now.'

At a signal from the shaman, Clyde and Jed emerged from the shadows and cut the bonds that held Hutch to the wheel. Grasping an arm each, they hauled the blond to his feet where he stood swaying between them. Hutch's hands felt as though they'd been plunged into boiling water and the skin around his wrists was bloody and torn and yet he resisted the urge to rub them as he glared at Papa Noir.

'You lay one more finger on him and so help me...'

The witch doctor laughed out loud. 'A finger? I don't even need that. Observe.' Papa turned back to Starsky who had been waiting passively by his side while he had conversed with Hutch. The witch doctor raised his hand and passed it over the brunet's face and neck.

'Choke' he whispered and immediately Starsky felt unseen hands around his neck, forcing the air from his lungs. He couldn't breathe...couldn't catch a breath to feed his starved lungs past the terrible pressure around his neck and Starsky clawed at the unseen hands that threatened to suffocate him. He managed to raise his eyes to Papa Noir, questioning why? What had he done to displease his new friend...master... In the background he could hear Hutch's voice yelling and yet he still looked to Papa Noir for salvation. With that one look immediately the witch doctor snapped his fingers and the invisible hands disappeared. Starsky bent double, inhaling deep lungfuls of air as he fought to get his breath back and Papa Noir waited.

'Fine, you made your point. So you can hurt him. Is that what you mean by caring for him?' Hutch put as much contempt into his voice as he could muster although he felt shaken to the core by the demonstration he'd just seen. Shit, this guy was powerful!

'But I can do so much more than that. Regardez.'

This time, Papa backed Starsky up against the pillar once more. With the harsh wood at his back once again, Starsky waited obediently, hands at his side. Papa leaned in towards him and whispered words into his ear. The words were like a cool spring breeze playing over Starsky's overheated and tortured body and the brunet relaxed back against the wooden post. The witch doctor took a step back from the brunet and passed a hand over Starsky's chest raising goose flesh over the brunet's skin. The hand continued lower, brushing with a feather light touch against Starsky's groin. Immediately it became apparent from the tightness of Starsky's jeans that Papa Noir could bring other things apart from pain and this really freaked Hutch out. Starsky's body shuddered and his lips parted as he gave a low moan, his eyes closed and his head resting back against the pillar. Starsky's hands clawed at the wood behind him, but this time with ecstasy rather than pain and his whole body shook. Papa clicked his fingers once more and the sensations left Starsky gasping, feeling as though he had missed the climax of a lifetime.

The blond cop struggled wildly against Clyde and Jed. 'You slimy no good bastard. Leave him alone. Don't lay one more finger on him or I'm gonna break 'em all, one by one. You said you'd let us go, so let us go huh? Or are ya as yellow bellied as ya look?'

Papa grinned briefly at Hutch. 'As you desire' he hissed as he closed in on Starsky one last time. As Hutch watched he seemed to loom over the brunet, caressing his face and neck and then, just as Hutch thought he was done, the witch doctor leaned in and pressed his lips to the crook of Starsky's neck. The brunet let out a shuddering low moan and his body went rigid as Papa Noir's teeth worried at the flesh of Starsky's neck and when the shaman broke the forced embrace, Hutch could clearly see a bleeding wound where Papa Noir had bitten deeply into the olive toned skin.

Papa Noir stepped back and wiped his hand over his blood stained lips. 'Slit the blond one's wrist and then let them both go' he muttered. 'Let's see how the gators enjoy blond for breakfast.'

Kaleb took up the knife and as Clyde held out Hutch's right hand and sliced cleanly from wrist to elbow on the inside. Immediately blood started to flow from the deep wound although, in shock as he was, Hutch felt little pain. A moment later, Papa pushed Starsky towards Hutch and stood back.

'Return to me soon mon cher. You should know mon ami. The further he goes from me, the weaker he will become. As you watch the fever start...the sweats...and the longing to return see then if you can truly keep my servant from me' he said softly as Hutch grabbed Starsky by the wrist and staggered from the barn. Papa stood back and watched them go.

'You have one hour before we send in the dogs' he called after the blond and his dazed partner. 'After that, he will be mine again.'