Secret Circle - The Captive Part 13

"As usual," Deborah interrupted, to Ca.s.sie. "Her mom spends ninety-five percent of her life in bed. Nerves."

Faye's eyebrows arched and she said, "Yes, well, it's certainly convenient, isn't it? At times like this." She turned back to Ca.s.sie and went on, "So we're going to have a little pizza party. You'll help out getting things ready, won't you?"

Ca.s.sie was tingling with relief. A pizza party. She'd been imagining-oh, all sorts of strange things. "I'll help," she said.

"Then let's get started. Suzan will show you what to do."

Ca.s.sie followed Suzan's directions. They lit the red and pink candles and started a low, crackling fire in the fireplace. They lit incense, too, which Suzan said was composed of ginger root, cardamom, and neroli oil. It was pungent, but delicious smelling.

Faye, meanwhile, was placing crystals about the room. Ca.s.sie recognized them-garnets and carnelians, fire opals and pink tourmelines. And Suzan, Ca.s.sie noticed, was wearing a carnelian necklace which harmonized with her strawberry-blond hair, while Faye was wearing more than her usual number of star rubies.

Deborah switched off the lamps and went to fiddle with the stereo. The music that began to rise was like nothing Ca.s.sie had ever heard. It was low and throbbing, some primal beat that seemed to get into her blood. It started out softly, but seemed to be getting almost imperceptibly louder.

"All right," Faye said, standing back to survey their work. "It's looking good. I'll get the drinks."

Ca.s.sie looked over the room herself. Warm; it looked warm and inviting, especially when compared with the chilly October weather outside. The candles and the fire made a rosy glow, and the soft, insistent music filled the air. The incense was spicy, intoxicating, and somehow sensuous, and the smoke threw a slight haze over the room.

It looks like an opium den or something, Ca.s.sie thought, simultaneously fascinated and horrified, just as Faye came back with a silver tray.

Ca.s.sie stared. She'd expected, maybe, a six-pack of soda-or maybe a six-pack of something else, knowing Deborah. She should have known Faye would never stoop to anything so inelegant. On the tray was a crystal decanter and eight small crystal gla.s.ses. The decanter was half full of some clear ruby-colored liquid.

"Sit down," Faye said, pouring into four of the gla.s.ses. And then, at Ca.s.sie's doubtful look, she smiled. "It's not alcoholic. Try it and see. Oh, go on."

Warily, Ca.s.sie took a sip. It had a subtle, faintly sweet taste and it made her feel flushed with warmth right down to her fingertips.

"What's in it?" she asked, peering into her gla.s.s.

"Oh, this and that. It's-stimulating, isn't it?"

"Mmm." Ca.s.sie took another sip.

"And now," Faye smiled, "we can play Pizza Man."

There was a pause, then Ca.s.sie said, "Pizza Man?"

"Pizza Man He Delivers," Suzan said, and giggled.

"Otherwise known as watching guys make fools of themselves," Deborah said, grinning savagely. She

might have gone on, but Faye interrupted.

"Let's not tell Ca.s.sie; let's just show her," she said. "Where's the phone?" Deborah handed her acordless phone.Suzan produced the yellow pages, and after a few moments of thumbing and scanning, read out a number.

Faye dialed. "h.e.l.lo?" she said pleasantly. "I'd like to order a large pizza, with pepperoni, olives, and

mushrooms." She gave her address and phone number. "That's right, New Salem," she said. "Can you tell me how long it will be? All right; thanks. 'Bye."

She hung up, looked at Suzan, and said, "Next."

And then, to Ca.s.sie's growing astonishment, she did it all over again.

Six times.

By the end of it, Faye had ordered seven large pizzas, all with the same toppings. Ca.s.sie, who was

feeling somewhat dizzy from the smell of incense, wondered just how many people Faye was planning to

feed.

"Who's coming to this party-the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir?" she whispered to Suzan. Suzan dimpled.

"I hope not. It's not choirboys we're interested in."

"That's enough," said Faye. "Just wait, Ca.s.sie, and you'll see."

When the doorbell rang the first time, Faye, Suzan, and Deborah went into the parlor and looked through

the window. Ca.s.sie followed and looked too. The porch light revealed a young man holding a greasy cardboard box.

"Hmm," said Faye. "Not bad. Not terrific, but not bad."

"I think he's fine," Suzan said. "Look at those shoulders. Let's take him."

With Ca.s.sie trailing behind, they all went into the hall.

"Well, h.e.l.lo," Faye said, opening the door. "Do you mind coming inside and putting it over here? I left my purse in the other room." As Ca.s.sie watched with widening eyes, they escorted the guy into the warmth of the luxurious, richly scented den. Ca.s.sie saw him blink, then saw a stupefied expression cross his face.

Deborah took the pizza from him. "You know," Faye said, biting the pen she had poised over a

checkbook, "you look a little tired. Why don't you sit down? Are you thirsty?"

Suzan was pouring a gla.s.sful of the clear ruby liquid. She held it out to him with a smile. The delivery boy wet his lips, looking dazed.

Ca.s.sie could understand why. She thought there was probably no guy in the world who could resist Suzan, with her cloud of strawberry-gold hair and her low-cut blouse, holding out a crystal gla.s.s. Suzan leaned over a little farther as she offered it to him, and the guy took the drink.

Deborah and Faye exchanged knowing glances. "I'll go move his car around the side," Deborah murmured, and left.

"My name's Suzan," Suzan said to the guy, as she sank into the cus.h.i.+ony couch beside him. "What's yours?"

Deborah had barely returned when the doorbell rang again.

TEN.

"Yuck," Deborah said, as they peered out the parlor window again. This delivery guy was skinny, with lank hair and acne.

Faye was already moving to the front door. "Pizza? We didn't order any pizza. I don't care who you called to confirm it, we don't want it." She shut the door in his face, and after a few minutes of hanging around the porch he went away.

As his delivery van was pulling out, another one pulled in. The tall, blond guy with the cardboard box kept looking behind him at the receding rival van as he walked to the door.

"Now this is more like it," Faye said.

When they brought the blond delivery guy into the den, Suzan and the muscular one were entangled on the couch. The pair disengaged themselves, the boy still looking foggy, and Faye poured the new guest a drink.

Within the next hour, the doorbell rang four more times and they collected two more delivery boys. Suzan divided her attention between the muscular one and a new one with high cheekbones who said he was part Native American. The other new one, who looked younger than the others and had soft-brown eyes, sat nervously next to Ca.s.sie.

"This is weird," he said, looking around the room, and taking another gulp from his gla.s.s. "This is so weird ... I don't know what I'm doing. I've got deliveries to make . . ." Then he said, "Gee, you're pretty."

Gee? thought Ca.s.sie. Gosh. Golly. Oh, my G.o.d. "Thanks," she said weakly, and glanced around the room for help.

None was forthcoming. Faye, looking sultry and exuding sensuality, was running one long crimson fingernail up and down the blond guy's sleeve. Suzan was sunk deep in the couch with an admirer on either side. Deborah was sitting on the arm of an overstuffed chair, eyes slitted and rather scornful.

"Can I put my arm around you?" the brown-eyed boy was asking hesitantly.

Boys aren't toys, Ca.s.sie thought. Even if this one did look like a teddy bear. Faye had brought these guys here to play with, and that was wrong . . . wasn't it? They didn't know what they were doing; they didn't have any choice.

"I just moved up here last summer from South Carolina," the boy was going on. "I had a girl back there .

. . but now I'm so lonely ..."Ca.s.sie knew the feeling. This was a nice guy, her age, and his brown eyes, though a little gla.s.sy, were appealing. She didn't scream when he put his arm around her, where it rested warmly and a little awkwardly around her shoulders.

She felt light-headed. Something about the incense ... or the crystals, she thought. The music seemed to

be pulsing inside her. She should be embarra.s.sed by what was going on in this room-she wasembarra.s.sed-but there was something exciting about it too.

Some of the candles had gone out, making it darker.

The warmth around Ca.s.sie's shoulders was nice. She thought of yesterday night, when she'd wanted so much for someone to comfort her, to hold her. To make her feel not alone.

"I don't know why, but I really like you," the brown-eyed boy was saying. "I never felt like this before."Why not do it? She was already-bad. And she wanted to be close to somebody. , . .The brown-eyed boy leaned in to kiss her.That was when Ca.s.sie knew it was wrong. Not the way kissing Adam was wrong, but wrong for her.

She didn't want to kiss him. Every individual cell in her body was protesting, panicking. She wiggled out

from under him like an eel and jumped up.

Faye and the blond guy were also on their feet, heading out of the room. So were Suzan and her unmatched pair.

"We're just going upstairs," Faye said in her husky voice. "There's more room up there. Lots of rooms, in fact."

"No," Ca.s.sie said.A hint of a frown creased Faye's forehead, then she smiled and went over to Ca.s.sie, speaking in lowtones. "Ca.s.sie, I'm disappointed in you," she said. "After your performance at the dance, I really thoughtyou were one of us. And it's not nearly as wicked as some other things you've done. You can doanything you want with these guys, and they'll like it."

"No," Ca.s.sie said again. "You told me to come over and I did. But I don't want to stay." Her eyes were smarting and she had trouble keeping her voice steady.

Faye looked exasperated. "Oh, all right. If you don't want to have fun, I can't make you. Go."

Relief washed over Ca.s.sie. With one glance back at the brown-eyed boy, she hurried to the door. After last night's dream, she'd been so frightened . . . she hadn't been sure what Faye would do to her. But she was getting away.

Faye's voice caught her at the door, and she waited until she had Ca.s.sie's full attention before speaking.

"Maybe next time," she said.

Ca.s.sie's entire skin was tingling as she hurried away from Faye's house. She just wanted to get home, to

be safe. . . .

"Hey, wait a minute," Deborah called after her.