The Devil's Heart by William W. Johnstone

forbidden by our Master." She sighed and waved her hand. "But you are correct, of course. He does go too far at times. But I have had many offspring—some good, some bad." A thought sprang into her mind; a thought she did not share with Falcon.
    "If we are alone here," Falcon mused. "I wonder if the same applies in Whitfield?"
    "Probably. I feel Balon is there, looking after his precious Jane Ann. I never could understand what he saw in her. No tits."

SIX
    "Explain a golem to me, Sam," Jane Ann said.
    They were in her home, after having spent hours with Miles and Doris, Wade and Anita. Tony and some of his friends from the Coven had been to the house, and had, in the vernacular of the young, trashed it, writing filthy sentences on the walls, stating plainly what they were going to do with Jane Ann.
    But Balon's Bible had not been touched. It sat on the small table like a sentry on duty.
    Jane Ann had cleaned up the house and painted over the nasty words and obscene drawings.
    "There is no such thing as a golem," Balon thrust his reply.
    "But that … creature standing in the corner in Miles's living room!"
    "Yes."
    "Then it is real?"
    "All things are real. Mythology is real. Dreams are real. Evil is real."
    "Sam … you're being vague."
    "In a sense. But really, I am telling you all that I can."
    "All right," she said after a time. "I think I see. If we believe in it, it is real. But if someone does not, it doesn't exist." She waved her hand toward the outside.
    "But … will they believe in it?"
    "Oh, yes. Be assured of that."
    "God must have a sense of humor."
    "He created humans, didn't He?"
    And the clock in the hall chimed its message: it was Friday. The horror was about to begin.
    Sam awakened with his arms full of soft, warm nakedness and his heart pounding. But he did not awaken with a start. He wondered why his heart was hammering so violently in his chest? He opened his eyes, looking around the dimly lit room. He saw the trays of food on the dresser and remembered bringing them in. Nothing else was disturbed. He listened but could hear nothing. He glanced at his watch on the nightstand and knew then what had awakened him. It was just past midnight. Friday. But what was so special about that? Friday? The day Satan is worshiped, of course.
    He gently brought Nydia out of sleep.
    "I love you," she whispered. "And I don't think it is wrong." She smiled. "And I must look awful."
    "No, you're beautiful." He picked up his watch. "Look at the time."
    "Oh, God! No wonder no one checked on us."
    "What do you mean?"
    "It's Friday. They would all probably be at the circle of stones, behind the house. I used to ask them what they did out there, but I would get such silly answers I finally quit asking. Something about star-gazing was what they finally settled on. I never did believe it."
    "Nydia? You're holding something back from me."
    "Yes."
    "Tell me?"
    "It … isn't time, Sam. I will. I promise."
    He thought of her statement in the four-wheel about knowing a lot about him. He shrugged it off. "You mentioned something about that circle of stones this afternoon while we were eating at the park. It triggered something in me then; the same thing happened now. There is something about a circle that is whispered about back in Whitfield—used to be, anyway." He paused. "Sure. Now I remember. Kids used to say that was where the Devil lived. That must be where Dad met the Devil. Oh, damn, Nydia! How much of this is real and how much is not? What in God's name are we supposed to believe and do? I don't know. I do know this: I want to see this circle of stones. We'll go out there tomorrow."
    "Are you out of your mind?"
    He ignored that, for he believed he just might be … for a number of reasons. "Can we see it from the house?"
    "Faintly. From that window." She pointed. "But you can't see it at night."
    He slipped from her warmth and blew out the small lamp, plunging the room into darkness. He opened the drapes. "Nydia," he called.