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You dummy! Vita objected. It's your body he'll kill! We don't dare suggest that to him!
No, it may work, Orlene thought. If her brother thinks she's a slut, then learns she's his sister, he won't
kill her!
Jolie had continued talking while this dialogue occurred. Would that work? Would Kane let Ilka go if he
identified her with Lorelie-with his sister Laura? Maybe it would work!
"So she finally found a sorceress who specialized in memory-restorative magic," Jolie continued, having
covered several prior contacts that hadn't worked out. "It had taken her an unconscionably long time to
do it, and this was the most expensive one of all. It would take most of her remaining money. But she
did go to the woman, and the woman worked her expensive spell, and at last Lorelie's memory was
restored."
Kane was rapt. "How long-?"
"Suddenly she knew what it was she had to do," Jolie said. "But she was chagrined to discover that so
much time had passed in the search that it now seemed pointless to do it. More than thirty years! She
was now a woman of forty-five, pure and good as ever, but way too late to rescue her little brother. By
this time their parents would be dead, and the little boy would be a grown man of forty. What a horrible
mishap, that poisoning and fall that had taken away her memory. It was true that she had had a good life
with the kind old woman, but if she had been able to remember earlier, she never would have waited.
She would have returned immediately and brought her brother to the old woman's house, and they would
have lived there happily, free of all the bad things of the world. Now it was too late!
"But was it? She thought about it, and realized that her good little brother might still be waiting for her
return. Oh, he would be in a different house by now, perhaps even a different city, but she could still
find him. Better late than never! What a joyful reunion they could have, even at this late date!" But he
doesn't recognize her. Vita thought. He mistakes her for a whore, and is about to kill her Before he
recognizes her. Ilka concluded. I like the way your mind works. Vita thought. Can we be friends?
Sure, if you like. If I live.
"She still had a little money left," Jolie continued. She was getting nervous now, because if this ploy
misfired, they would have no other chance except a desperation fight for life. Fortunately Ilka had not
been bound-but that might only be because the man was quite sure of his ability to overpower her. She
didn't want it to come to that, though she had learned a thing or two about close combat in the course of
her association with Satan, Gaea, and Mars. "She used it to have her brother located. Then she went to
where he was, which was indeed in another city, for he had moved frequently, for what reason she didn't
know."
Because it wasn't safe for him to stay close to where he had killed. Vita thought, having picked up most
of the man's background from Jolie's thoughts. Lorelie won't much like that!
"At last she came to him, at night on a deserted street. 'O my brother, where are you?' she thought, her
pure heart beating with anticipation and excitement." Now came the crucial part; she didn't know
whether it would work, but it was all she had. "She walked along the street, looking, somehow aware
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that he was near-and a man jumped out and grabbed her."
Kane jumped. "No, I wouldn't do that!" he exclaimed.
"He hauled her into the building, his hand over her mouth so that she couldn't scream-but it also
prevented her from identifying herself," Jolie said, nervousness putting a shake in her voice. This
seemed so obvious, so stupid, now that she was in it; how could it possibly work? "He thought she was
one of the bad girls-"
"It's a lie!" he cried. "It's just a dumb story to fool me! You aren't my sister! You're just a black teenage
slut!" He lifted the knife threateningly.
Jolie realized that she should have engineered the story to account for the color and youth. The sister
could have been gravely injured, so had to use magic to animate a younger body. But it was too late for
that now. "Lorelie tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen-"
"You aren't her!" he screamed, throwing himself on her, the knife held up. "You have to be used and
killed!"
Jolie, still in control of the body, tried to squirm aside, but he was too fast and strong for her. He held
her down with his left arm across her throat, choking her, while his groin pressed against hers. But he
could not make headway, because she still wore the panty hose.
He cursed and used his free hand-the one holding the knife-to reach down, to wrench the hose out of the
way. He reversed the knife without letting go of it, so that it pointed up, while with two fingers he
caught the waistband and yanked down. The material tore-and Jolie, in desperation, bucked her hips,
trying to throw him off in this moment of his partial distraction. "Kane!" she cried. "No!"
Her left hip slammed into the butt end of the knife. She felt dull pain as it bruised her. But Kane cried
out at the same time, in pain and horror, his body stiffening.
Then something liquid coursed down on her hip. Unable to think what it might be, she looked-and saw
bright redness spreading out across her thigh and the bed below. He had stabbed himself! Or rather, her
effort to buck him off had caused the point of the knife he held to ram upward into his body, right at the
crotch. He had castrated himself.
Then he relaxed, his weight becoming heavy on her. He had passed out. She struggled to pull herself out
from under, lubricated by the blood. It was messy, but possible, now that he was not trying to hold her.
Soon she stood beside the bed, her left leg swathed in blood, staring down at him.
He's bleeding to death! Orlene thought, horrified.
He deserves it! Vita retorted. He's a rapist and murderer!
Jolie, more experienced and practical about this sort of horror, wasted no more time. She hurried to the
apartment's little bathroom and hastily peeled off the panty hose. That left her leg almost clean, but she
found a sponge and washed it anyway. Then she scrambled back into the dress, having no trouble with
the fastenings. As she did this, she explained to the others: "He may be dying, or he may be less gravely
wounded, and he could recover at any moment. We need to be out of here before he wakes. Then it will
be in God's hands whether he lives or dies, not ours." She found the two slippers, and put one on. The
second was blood-spattered, so she quickly rinsed it under the rushing tap and put it on wet. Details
didn't matter!
She rinsed the soiled panty hose in the sink, then wrung it dry, wadded it up, and held it in a ball in her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]




 

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