The chill, damp air in the hotel basement belied the steamy Houston summer night. Incense burned at various points around the room and the air was thick with the scent of sandalwood. Marco Bellini trembled. He had never seen a man's throat cut.
Marco stood among his fellow worshipers and wondered if any of them could see the sweat on his brow. Conflicting emotions warred within him. This ritual sacrifice was testing his faith and loyalty to the true Gods. Violence was part of the temple, and the required sacraments had to be observed. But a man's life had never been offered, at least not to his knowledge.
He looked around surreptitiously. The others stood silently and watched the ceremony unfold. Marco joined them. Dimitrious, his white toga illuminated by the oil lamps, stood beside the altar and faced the congregation. Darkly beautiful in her temple robes, Alexis stood to one side. She held an ornate Grecian urn filled with water and sea salt.
Dimitrious had revealed only vague hints about the reason for this sacrifice at their last gathering. He said the reasons would be made clear during this ceremony, and that the time for secrecy was nearly at an end. Soon, he told them, all their dreams would be realized. Marco wasn't sure what that meant. His dreams did not go beyond the everyday sort; financial success and perhaps one day a wife and children. He was unclear how killing one of their own would bring that about, and he had begun to wonder about their leader's sanity.
Marco scanned the crowd of twenty-two people, looking for anyone betraying even the slightest reservation. If even one other person thought this was a bad idea, he told himself, he would speak out and put a stop to this madness. Yet he saw only rapt attention on their faces as Bill Jenkins was summoned to the dais.
Jenkins knelt before the small oil flame and held his head high. Dimitrious moved to stand behind him, then held aloft a bright dagger. Marco had watched that dagger end the lives of countless purified goats over the years and he felt his stomach tighten as the priest used it to cut a lock of Jenkins' hair. Marco sighed as this small token was then burned as an offering to the Goddess Persephone, wife of the Lord of the Underworld. She and Her husband Hades were the principal patrons of the worshipers, though they often made minor sacrifices to the other Gods. The priest began to speak, and Marco's eyes widened as he perceived the purpose of this night's sacrifice.
"My Lord Hades, greatest of all the Gods," intoned Dimitrious, his thick accent somehow added power to the words. "Accept this noble sacrifice, one of your own faithful. To you he shall soon come ere this night passes. Verily we ask your aid in recovering that which we most desire, that which will complete our token and thereby summon forth she who waits beside Styx and may not pass into Elysium. Fill this vessel with your servant that he might do our bidding."
While Dimitrious spoke, Alexis poured the contents of the urn slowly over Jenkins' head; he flinched slightly as the cold fluid soaked into his hair and robes. Marco could now smell the odor of the burnt hair mixing with that of the incense. His stomach twisted into knots; the next step of the ritual would come swiftly.
Marco winced inwardly as Dimitrious drew the dagger across Jenkins' throat, just below the left ear. He saw the man's blood spray, painting the robes of those nearby. Jenkins began to twitch despite being supported by Dimitrious and Alexis. Blood continued to flow; Marco thought it looked black and somehow unreal in the dim light. He was fighting nausea and a sudden feeling of dread. Surely, he thought, the Gods would not approve of this murder. Marco felt a sense of betrayal, one which grew steadily stronger as he watched Dimitrious and Alexis lower Jenkins onto the altar.
The bleeding slowed, and Marco heard Jenkins moan. It sounded loud in the silence of the basement, but he knew it was little more than a whisper. He watched as they removed the dying man's robes and exposed his nakedness. Marco swallowed hard and turned his head. He had no desire to see Bill Jenkins quartered and his organs offered up to the individual Gods.
Dimitrious had indeed betrayed them, he thought. Such betrayal required swift retribution and Marco began playing various short scenarios through his mind. All involved the police and ended unpleasantly, but he could think of no other solution. Perhaps Argus would advise him. Dimitrious discouraged contact with other Hellenistic groups, but under the circumstances Marco didn't care. He was startled out of his thoughts by a ripple of murmurs.
Marco looked up sharply, but saw that he was not the topic of the outburst. The ritual had taken an unexpected turn. Instead of beginning a vivisection, Dimitrious and Alexis bathed Jenkins' body in scented oils. Then they stepped away and knelt facing it. Though he was relieved on one level, Marco wondered at this unusual breach of protocol. Now that he had seen a man's throat cut, Marco thought nothing else could surprise him.
He knew he was wrong when Bill Jenkins slowly sat up and gazed dully out into crowd.
