The Witch, the God, and the Siren

In which the fallen deity faces his bete noir and concludes his quest.

The saga of the formal minor deity, who named himself Peine after being condemned to mortality, concludes. Read Part I here, Part II here, and Part III here.

“We will likely hear from the High Priestess in the late morning,” said Darian. “The Samhain ritual lasts well into the night. We have a room for you on the third floor; you must be quite spent.”

“Thank you, Darian,” I said. “The day is indeed catching up to me.”

Indiga — I started using her new name out of respect for her decision — handed me a key to the room. “We of course shall sleep during the daylight hours,” she said. “You look as if you should do the same.” She smiled warmly.

The trill of a smartphone interrupted our stroll toward the rear doors from which we came. Darian reached into his coat to answer it. He glanced at the screen and said, “The High Priestess; I have to take this.” He walked a few steps from our small group.

“Darian has known the High Priestess for a long time. Her name is Lady Rachael Watcher, the Elder of Covens. If you would learn the Craft, you would have no better teacher than Lady Rachael. She is strict, and can be demanding, yet after the year-and-a-day under her tutelage, your claim to the White Cord would be well-earned.”

“I shall keep this in mind, dear friend,” I said.

Darian returned to the group, and the mild surprise on his face piqued my curiosity. “Lady Rachael has changed the plans slightly, and for good reason.”

“They know where it is.”

I whirled to face the vampire. “Where? Where is it?”

“Lady Rachael would not say. She invites us to the Twisted Touch, tomorrow night at ten.”

“There?” I blurted out the word. “She wants to meet us there? Of all places?”

“Please, calm yourself,” said Indiga. “I suspect Rachael has a method to the madness.”

“I shall hope so!” I replied. The chosen venue was not where I expected any part of my journey to take me.

The Twisted Touch — more than a nightclub, to be sure. This was a regional mecca for hedonists, a wide buffet for all things sensual. The street-level floor was the dance hall, with the BYOB bar, a massive dance floor, a small kitchen preparing pub food, and plenty of seating at the periphery for those needing a slight modicum of privacy.

On the upper floor were the playrooms. Most of the floor was taken up with small cells with beds large enough for two to four revelers to partake in each other’s delights, and the larger space was the Orgy Room, where an enormous round bed could accommodate as many as a score of naked bodies to writhe and entwine together.

The basement was, of course, the dungeon — replete with every tool and structure for the BDSM fetishists. Participants brought their personal equipment, and the rest was up to the players in the scene. On all three levels, the rules were strictly enforced; no means no, and all activity must be safe, sane, and consensual — no exceptions.

This was a place much sought after by the Eros, the first choice of many of us. It filled up quickly (not just with humans and vampires and witches), and many of us had to seek other venues. I had many fond memories of Twisted Touch, and truth be told it was still too soon for me to simply walk into that building as if nothing happened.

Yet the White Witches, who held the key to what I sought, had a reason for their choice of meeting spot, and I would abide thereby. At that moment, the only key I cared about was in my hand, and my new friends showed me the door wherein it fit, and I was soon fast asleep.

I must have slept for twelve hours. A gentle tug on my arm came from Darian.

“Sunset is soon, my friend,” he said. “You must be famished, and should eat before we set out.”

“When do we leave?” I asked with a lengthy yawn.

“The Twisted Touch is about a thirty-minute car ride,” replied Darian. “I’m afraid we don’t keep a great deal of edibles here, for obvious reasons,” he said with a smile and a chuckle, “but we’ll have DoorDash deliver anything you wish. Unless you’ve suddenly developed a taste for cloned blood.”

“Right now,” I murmured, still groggy, “that may just do the trick, although a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich from Kathy’s Deli would surely hit the spot.”

Darian smiled and said, “Consider it done.” Forget what you have heard of vampires; he was, as were all of his clan, a kind and gentle soul who may or may not have asked for what he was. In this modern age, he did not have to kill for sustenance, and somehow I knew he was very happy with this lot. I recalled Indiga speaking of the arguments with what she called the “killer clans” who “still resort to murder” for their meals, and I was relieved to know I would never be party to such debates.

Indiga ordered two sandwiches for me, and I was surprised at her ability to read my level of hunger. When my dinner arrived I sat down with her, Darian, Philip, and Micayla — all of whom sipped warm cloned blood from their goblets.

“I still wonder,” I said between mouthfuls of BLT, “why the White Witches chose a notorious sex club for this meeting, especially if they know where the whatever-it’s-called already is. It seems a bit too…public. Moreover, do they not know of my past? They would have to.”

Indiga finshed her glass of red and replied, “They do, my brother. Darian assures me that this choice is not meant as a stab at you and your former state; the White Covens do not tolerate such insults to anyone. I suspect it may pertain to the nature of what you pursue. Indeed, I have never known Lady Rachael to do anything randomly, without forethought. As I said, she no doubt has significant grounds for our rendezvous location.”

Micayla glanced at the ornate clock on wall. “The time for the rendezvous is quite near,” she said. “I will bring the car around.”

That is, if one would refer to a 2020 Bentley Flying Spur as a mere “car.” I settled into the plush, uncommonly comfortable back seat next to Indiga, with Philip on the far side. Micayla remained behind the wheel with Darian in the front passenger seat.

I tried very hard to contain my awe. “This is what you drive to the clubs?”

Micayla smiled at me via the rear-view mirror. “We like to make a statement, now and then,” she said with a wink at Indiga. I truly liked these beings!

If the automobile made any sound at all, I could not prove it to you. I imagine if one is immortal and has access to some not-insubstantial assets, such a vehicle* would be quite within reach. I was beyond impressed. Micayla activated the radio, and the superb sound system emitted a lovely jazz tune reminiscent of the postwar years when I could be found at the Hungry i in San Francisco, or any of a number of music spots on Sunset Boulevard. The notes, flowing from the speakers as if Bird Parker himself played his saxophone in the car, were a welcome distraction. I needed to be relaxed for what was coming.

Micayla parked the Bentley with a valet at Twisted Touch, mainly because the valet was a vampire and could be trusted with such a machine. We made the short walk from the parking garage to the street where I beheld the club for the first time in many years.

I noticed a few changes in the frontage, but little else on the outside. The booming of the music from inside echoed down the street, into the bistros and smaller pubs along the way and likely for another block or two. Twisted Touch was the undisputed monarch of night life in the otherwise unforgiving atmosphere of a city that knew it needed hedonism but would never admit to it.

Indiga walked with confidence to the obligatory velvet rope that, along with three sizable and intimidating bouncers, barred entry to the utopia of all pleasures from those deemed unworthy. I winced at such a concept; the Eros did not discriminate in the exercise of their powers, while humanity still clung desperately to its unrealistic standards (and definitions) of beauty, grace, and sensuality — standards met by only a tiny fraction of the Homo sapiens race, thus giving that fraction more attention than it probably deserved.

The bouncers did not hesitate to unhook the plush barrier at the vampires’ approach; those still in line, hopefully awaiting admittance, gawked at the apparent audacity of these people who were effortlessly gaining ingress. I shook my head as I crossed the threshold into the dimly lit expanse of the discotheque. Darien led us up the stairs to mezzanine overlooking the dance floor.

This was the moment I dreaded.

I couldn’t help but walk to the railing. A short time ago this was where my fellow Eros and I, whether invisible to human sight or decked out in party finery while in human form, would gaze at the expanse of bodies moving to the various beats from the vast system of audio speakers. We could see the auras of everyone — those who were already paired with their partners in lust, those who were close to determining whose attention they sought, and even those who were desperately seeking companionship to staunch the hemorrhage of loneliness. We could not help them all, but we always tried.

We…always…tried…

Now I was the lonely man in the room.

It’s Friday night, and it won’t be long

’Til I hit the dance floor, hit the dance floor I got all I need No, I ain’t got cash, I ain’t got cash But I got you, baby

Baby, I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight (I love cheap thrills) Baby, I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight (I love cheap thrills) But I don’t need no money As long as I can feel the beat I don’t need no money As long as I keep dancing

(From “Cheap Thrills” by Greg Kurstin & Sia Furler; Lyrics © Emi April Music Inc., Kurstin Music, Pineapple Lasagne)

The music and lyrics pierced through the skimpy armor of indifference to my condition. I looked out over the crowd, knowing I had no place among them, nothing to offer them, for I was in the form of a rotund older man, a sensual has-been who should know better than to enter such a place of sex and beauty and carnal desire. If any of my one-time kind were present — and I knew they were — they kept their distance. I could not halt the remembrance —

The women, all ages, shapes, sizes, colors…

Each one a ravishing goddess in her own right…

I was their lust, their wanting, their wetness…

Now gone…

Gone…

Gone…forever…

You do not belong here…go home, ugly thing…only swans may sail here…

At that, the tears began to cascade down my face, unstopping, as I wept bitterly yet quietly in mourning for a life that was dead.

Oh Mother, how many ways shall I plead my guilt and remorse? How much longer will the sharp stabs of regret impale me? May I die now? May I reap the mortality You have handed me?

A slight touch on my shoulder broke me out of the pale shelter I built. It was Philip, who had said very little since my arrival at the Ball two nights prior. He looked at me with an empathy I found surprising. He handed me a tissue with which to wipe my eyes.

“I am sorry you had to endure this,” Philip said. “Truly I am.”

“Thank you, Philip,” I said. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“One aspect of a vampiric turning in our clan is that your feelings remain, your emotions do not simply disappear,” said the still-young-looking vampire. “Only the more primitive clans, and their numbers are thankfully shrinking, retain the cold remorselessness of the predator.

“The White Witches await,” Philip continued. With his eyes he motioned to a table across the mezzanine, in a quiet corner.

I turned to face the others. Indiga came alongside, her arm in mine, and we walked to the table, populated with three women and one man, all in tasteful modern gothic attire. The young male wore a black suit with a black shirt and necktie, the livery of a novice. The women wore black and red or black and violet floor-length dresses; the oldest of them, hair a silvery sheen, wore a jeweled pentacle around her neck, and a stern mien on her face.

Lady Rachael Watcher — Grand High Priestess of The White Witches, the Elder of All Covens.

All four rose respectfully at our approach, and made the sign of crossed hands which then opened in greeting. Lady Rachael spoke first.

“Hail and well met, ye of the Woodlands Clan. We are honored with your presence.”

Indiga bowed and said, “You honor us, Elder of Covens. Merry Meet.”

My heart was infinitely warmed at this exchange. I recalled a distant time, eons ago, when the supernaturals were always on the brink of war, wary of each other. I was forever grateful when Mother Goddess put a stop to it.

The vampires and I sat. Lady Rachael fixed her intimidating gaze upon me, unblinking. The other witches shifted with a slight but noticeable discomfort.

“So,” she began, “this is the fallen Eros, who takes as his name the French word for penalty, and for sadness, and which rhymes with his mortal lot. I know why you seek us; Indiga and Philip inquired on your behalf.”

“My Lady,” I replied, “I am grateful to them for their efforts, and to you and your fellow witches for yours. I am indebted to you all.”

Lady Rachael nodded with a slight smile. “We count not such debts,” she said warmly, “for your quest has become an intriguing pursuit for us as well. Let us speak no further of encumbrances.

“What you seek is not far from where we sit. Catalina, please explain to our friends what we have discovered.” She motioned to a woman of about thirty-five years sitting to her right. Her hair was red, with lines of blue therein. She was very attractive, yet I remembered my place. Nonetheless, I fixed my eyes upon her, eager to know the truth of my deeds.

“Yes, my Lady. When Philip approached us, asking if we were aware of anyone or anything that could have overcome an Eros, we sought the answer in our many compendiums of supernatural knowledge and history. After several days of intensive yet fruitless research, our Mother Goddess sent us a boon. One of our High Priestesses, leader of a coven in Seattle, was visiting my Lady for advice on a matter, and learned of our task. She is very well-versed in the lore of sex magic, and knew exactly where to look. She consulted a volume of ancient Grecian magic, the genesis of which arose from the animosity between Athena and Aphrodite because the powers of a virgin goddess contending with the personification of female lust — ”

“Catalina, child,” said Lady Rachael in a kind but firm tone.

“Apologies, my Lady,” said Catalina, her eyes lowered.

“Fret not, my love.” She turned to us and with a proud smile explained, “Catalina is one our best scholars and instructors, and often loses herself in the elucidation. Please continue, my child.”

“Yes, my Lady. We discovered that the sex magic created a number of entities which the mundane world have called ‘incubi’ and ‘succubi,’ yet these beings possess no gender. They feed from the sexual energies of humans, and are found in the lore of cultures everywhere. They have not been very active, or at least have gone unnoticed, for two thousand years, yet the research definitely confirms that they existed before the Eros; it is theorized that the Eros may have, for lack of better verbiage, evolved from them. They come upon humans when the latter are asleep or otherwise unaware of them; the same can happen to any supernatural as well.

“Mr. Peine, you were set upon by the siren Meridiana.”

I was very perplexed with this revelation. “I was told the sirens were sent to Hades by Poseidon.”

Catalina continued. “Meridiana was familiar to those of us who were hiding in Italy during the cusp of the 10th and 11th centuries of the Common Era. Meridiana was not a malevolent entity at all; it is said she helped the French scholar Gebert d’Aurillac become Pope Sylvester II in the late 990s. She did not attack as much as approach, and with no evil intent she seduced both men and women, regardless of sexual preference, took only what she needed for immediate sustenance, and moved on. Unlike her demonic cousins, her visits never caused physical and mental debilitation or death. She was never looked upon as an enemy.

“Nonetheless, the Roman Catholic Church believed otherwise, especially when the archbishops became aware of Meridiana’s alleged role in the elevation of Sylvester II after the latter died. Using what they knew of the imprisonment of demons, the archbishops sealed her away in a cell constructed of bronze infused with salt and holy water — and buried under the altar of the Cathedral of Saint John Lateran.”

Our table fell silent while we all digested what we heard. It fell to me to ask the question hanging over us.

“How did Meridiana escape?”

Catalina looked to Lady Rachael for permission to speak. The High Priestess nodded. “A major earthquake struck Central Italy in August of 2016. The only noticed damage in Rome occurred at the ruins of the Baths of Caracalla; what was not mentioned was the effect of the earthquake and subsequent aftershocks upon the secret underground structures of the Lateran Cathedral, less than one and a half miles away from the baths. The repeated seismic forces broke open Meridiana’s cell and she fled Italy; after regaining her strength in her customary fashion, she fled Europe and found her way to the United States, where her legend was practically unknown.”

“And where,” I finally asked, “is she now?”

Lady Rachael paused, looking up at the third level, similar to the dance-hall mezzanine but showing a door at every ninety degrees of the circle, each leading to the pleasures of the small bedrooms and the orgy room.

“She is here, Mr. Peine. We sensed her when one of our number was here partaking of the dalliances herein and immediately notified me. We did not know of her encounter with you as yet, albeit we were aware of the threat she posed to your kind who frequent this establishment. Without the Eros, sex magic is much more difficult, believe it or not, so we acted with all dispatch.”

“In what way, my Lady?” asked Indiga.

“She is unharmed, my dear. We knew she would find a veritable buffet of delights in such a place, and would not depart until closing. We constructed an energy shield in a storage area upstairs, and had no trouble luring her into the room with a healthy dose of sex magic.

“Mr. Peine, she is ready for you.”

I felt all eyes upon me. I rose, straightened my coat, and nervously said, “Now is as a good a time as any. Please show me, my Lady.”

The witches and vampires rose, and made way for the High Priestess to leave the table to lead us. “For your sake, Mr. Peine,” Lady Rachael announced, “we will use an entrance that avoids interrupting any activity currently taking place on the third floor.”

“Thank you for your kind consideration, my Lady,” I said.

As we slowly made our way to the stairway to the third floor, the young male novice walked alongside me. “Mr. Peine, my name is Thomas Cowell. May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Thomas.”

“Please forgive me, but — what is it like? I cannot imagine what you endured, but to have it happen must have been beyond jarring.”

The High Priestess stopped her walk and whirled on the novice. “Thomas! You are out of line, novice!”

I heard no mockery or sarcasm in his still-young voice. I did not know his level of instruction, yet his curiosity was sincere, and I held it not against him. “Please forgive him, Lady Rachael. I understand his wish to learn of the hidden world, and this early revelation will do him, or me, no harm.”

“You are a kind man, Mr. Peine,” replied Lady Rachael. “Very well, Thomas; you may continue.”

“I am grateful, my Lady, and to you, Mr. Peine,” said the novice.

We resumed our walking and I began my answer.

“Thomas, let me ask you this: what characteristic do you possess that has defined you more than any other in your young life? What aspect of yourself held you together as a sine qua non above all else?”

He thought for a moment, then said, “I‘m very athletic, ever since childhood. I still am, of course. Football and baseball, mostly. I accepted a college football scholarship and a potential professional career loomed; however an injury in my freshman year at university put an end to all of that. It is a somewhat moot point now, although I continue to enjoy baseball and a less than violent game of football. I completed my degree and in my senior year I was introduced to the Witcheries.”

I continued the thought experiment. “Focus on that; center upon that time when your athleticism was the one thing that held you together more than anything else.” Thomas looked away while we walked and I sensed his concentration.

“Now, as best you can, imagine it taken from you, yanked away without warning, swiftly and surely, and you are left empty save for the memories of who and what you were.”

Thomas began to breathe deeply in a somewhat meditative manner, deeply searching his past to see himself as a star on the field, and then, in a flash of seconds or less, instantaneously finding himself bereft of his defining trait. His eyes opened and a gasp escaped him. He turned to face me and his eyes were wet.

“Sir…I…I don’t what to say…” he stammered. “I should not have asked — ”

I stopped and place my hands on his shoulders. “Thomas, never stop asking questions. If you do not immediately hear an answer, eventually you will. That will make you an excellent Priest of the Mother Goddess.”

The young man wiped his eyes. “Thank you, sir. Very much. Can you…regain your former self, ever?”

“Only at the pleasure of the Mother Goddess. Thomas. In other words, maybe. I do not think on it, for She decides when She decides.”

As I turned my eyes forward I saw Lady Rachael turn her head the same way, with a proud smile for her student. I also saw a doorknob, part of a door that was painted the same color as the walls and not the color of the other four doors. This, I thought, is our ingress.

Lady Rachael motioned for me to join her at the door. “Mr. Peine,” she solemnly began, “beyond this door, and the next, is who you have sought. She knows the reason why we have contained her — so that you may address her without fear of her escape. Please be assured, she bears no ill will toward any of us of which we are aware. You may face her alone, or with any of us whom you see fit. The ball, as they say, is now in your court.”

My choices were immediate. “I wish to be accompanied by my fellow former Eros, the vampire Indiga, whom we once called Atreya; she helped me by putting me on the path to this door, and she too deserves to know why. I also choose Thomas Cowell — with my Lady’s permission, of course, that he may see further into the realms the knowledge of which he so honorably seeks.”

Lady Rachael nodded to Thomas in approval. “You choose wisely and well, Mr. Peine. Go forth, and find your answers.”

Indiga and Thomas fell into line behind me, as I turned the knob and stepped beyond the door.

The small anteroom was dark, save for a bright light emanating from under the lone door in front of us. I knew the light’s source was the energy field surrounding Meridiana and end of my quest. The anxiety among the three of us was palpable; none of us seemed in any hurry to approach the door and open it.

Yet open it I did.

What I saw defied explanation. A blue and sepia glow in the shape of a sphere, each color randomly switching back and forth from the other. No sound emitted from the luminescent orb, yet we all felt the force of the radiating energy on our faces and in our bodies. We were at least ten yards from it, and all we could see were the changing colors, the unpredictable shifts between blue and sepia. I slowly walked closer.

“ ERRROOSSSS,” came a haunting, startling voice which seemed to be everywhere.

The sound was the echo-in-reverse, as if it started from a great distance, and increased in volume until the final consonant, when the sound receded as if its source suddenly sped away in the opposite direction.

With renewed strength and assurance of the combined powers of the White Witches, I strode closer. As I neared the globe, a figure began to take shape; the outline of a female body with hair down to its hips, upon which the hands were placed.

With my left hand on my hip and my right hand pointing an accusing finger at the figure inside the sphere, I answered the voice. “I am Peine !— I am the one, the former Eros whom you attacked!” My voice rose as my anger increased. “Look upon my state, Meridiana! Look at the fruit of your wilful, selfish, ROBBERY…OF…MY…WILL!!”

The siren stood still, not moving. She had to know that I was effectively powerless to really do anything about my condition. She stepped closer to the boundary of her cell, revealing piercing light brown eyes, a near-perfect physiognomy ending in a slightly pointed chin, her long hair framing her face. Her lithe, curvaceous body was naked; firm breasts, long shapely legs, beautifully shaped feet. This was the seductive creature, the very definition of “allure” who could bring a ship into the deadly shoals.

Or a minor deity to perform her will.

Her silence was adding to the pressure of the energies already around us. I turned to look at Indiga and Thomas, who were locked in a wide-eyed countenance of fear, awe, and suspended disbelief. I decided then to calm my impulses to anger and try another tactic.

“Meridiana,” I began softly, “why did you assault me? Was it a personal vendetta? Were you angry at my kind? What prompted you to possess a supernatural when humans were your usual — ”

“CONNNFUUUSIONNNN,” she replied. “YYYYOOOO WERRRRRR FFFIRRRSSSST-AH.”

“First? First…what?” I was perplexed at this, then it dawned on me. “Your first feeding after your escape from Rome?”

“YESSSSSSS.”

“But why an Eros? Why me?”

“SSSSTAAAARRRRRRRVVVVINGGGGG. UUUSSSSSED-UH ALLLLLL LLLLASSSSST-AH SSSSSSTRENGGGGTHHHHHHH TOOOOOO FFFFLLLLLEEEEEE.”

It made an odd kind of sense. What little energy she had she expended to get as far away from the clutches of the churchmen as possible. In my mind, her motives fell into pace.

“And the fastest way to recoup your powers was to capture the nearest entity who aroused sexual energy as a matter of course.”

“COORRRRRREEEECT-AHHHH. NNNNOOOOO ENNNNNERRRRRGEEEE TOOOOO AAAASSSSSK-UH YOOOOOOOO FFFIRRRSSSST-AH.”

I was not certain how to respond to her “reasoning.” Meridiana, perhaps the last of her kind, was spent, possibly on the verge of stasis — the state of suspended animation which immortals enter when sustenance is unavailable since they “technically” cannot die from starvation or malnutrition. She was desperate, because stasis, while not the same as death, was a circumstance to be avoided.

Suddenly, Meridiana let out an otherworldly shriek, which I immediately knew was born of fear. At the same time, Lady Rachael burst through the door with a look of emergency on her otherwise nonplussed, dispassionate mien.

“We have enough Opus Dei de Nocte surrounding the building to effect a successful invasion, Mr. Peine. They know she’s here and I would not put it past them to breach what they would call a ‘den of iniquity’ with violence to capture her!”

Meridiana screamed, “NNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Opus Dei de Nocte. Often confused with the already-controversial institution of the Catholic Church, this organization, the “Work of God in the Night,” was one of those “black ops” type of cadres which tended to operate above the law, canon and secular. They were rabidly devout, the natural successors to the Spanish Inquisition — with firearms and enough worldly connections to evade justice.

“Apparently the church didn’t want those ‘chaste’ priests of theirs to barge into a pleasure palace,” said Lady Rachael with a clear disdain. “Those thugs outside will have no compunctions to getting to Meridiana by any means necessary. Darian says they are well-armed.”

Indiga’s fangs appeared instantly. “So are we, my Lady.”

Lady Rachael gently took Indiga’s hands in hers. “Let us see what magic can accomplish first, my dear child.”

The deep respect between the communities of witches and vampires was evident in the exchange I witnessed. The fangs receded as Lady Rachael whispered, “If we must resort to such tactics, I shan’t hold you back.”

They embraced and turned to me. Lady Rachael said, “We may have to release Meridiana to prevent her recapture. Mr. Peine, are you satisfied with her answers?”

I wished I had more time to evaluate the High Priestess’ inquiry. I had no idea of what the siren would do once freed from yet another prison. Would she end up possessing another Eros? We had no guarantees as to how this ancient and powerful force of nature would act. We also faced the imminent onslaught of the Vatican’s commandos.

Catalina ran into the room with a look of terror. “My Lady! With your permission — ”

“Put a Ring of Confusion around the building! Now!” Lady Rachael’s order was final. Such a spell would cause the invaders to be uncertain as to where they were or how they could gain entry. Through the ages it has protected many Witches from the clutches of their enemies.

“At once, my Lady!” Catalina called out as she sprinted out of the room. We could hear her receding voice calling the names of her fellow witches.

Lady Rachael let out a deep sigh. “It will not hold indefinitely. The spell was designed to allow for a fast escape. I am releasing the siren.”

“Wait!” I cried. Lady Rachael stared at me with growing impatience. I quickly stepped as close to the orb as a dare, until the pressing force of the energy pummeled my entire body. “Meridiana! Our business is not complete! Will you promise to remain with us until we resolve?”

Her eyes widened and met mine, an intense gaze that instantly brought me back to that day, that strangest of all my innumerable days, when she took me as a vessel and set me toward my fate. In scant seconds I relived the once-lost memory of her pale, translucent figure reaching behind me, turning me to face her her fading beauty as she set her hands upon the sides of my head, then wrapping her entire body around me as I helplessly absorbed her very essence — and her soft, slow voice breaking in a pleading whisper:

“I am sorry, O radiant Instrument of Passion…save me…please, god of desire…forgive this crime…so sorry, sorry, sorry…”

Frozen in the indescribable moment, the suspension of time and space both reduced to the quanta of our shared being, only my mind could reply.

“As the great loving Mother of us all forgives freely, so I forgive and pardon you, Siren Meridiana.”

As I regained a worldly consciousness I quickly turned to Lady Rachael and exclaimed, “We are concluded! Please release her!”

The Elder of Covens raised her arms above her head, then spread them as she intoned the spell of release in a language I shall not repeat here. The blue-and-sepia light began to swirl and cast itself upward, ever upward, as the sphere that encased the siren shrank away, revealing the incomparable glamour and radiance of Meridiana’s bared form, which glowed a calming golden sheen.

Her voice no longer carried the effect of before; she spoke in an echoing whisper, the very dulcet melody of sweet seduction.

“No words in this vast cosmos, in any tongue of mortals or gods, can fully express my gratitude for the pardon you have bestowed. You saved my life, and for that you paid an unspeakable price.”

“You are still in danger, Meridiana. The successors of your ancient jailors are here to trap you anew. We must somehow escape them.”

Catalina, visibly weakened, ran into the room, nearly out of breath and barely able to stand. Lady Rachael ran to the younger woman to hold her steady. Catalina looked up to behold the siren, her mouth agape. She gasped as she delivered her report to her Elder.

“My…my…my Lady…the ring weakens…the energy of…release…must…must…have…” She trailed off, clearly exhausted from her efforts to maintain the Ring of Confusion. Lady Rachael looked at me in shock, a sight few have beheld or ever will see in their lives. The irony of our mission was not lost on her.

The momentary silence broke as the ferocious and intense pounding on the doors of the dance hall began, followed by the sounds of confusion and fright emanating from all three floors. The trespass of Opus Dei de Nocte had commenced, and the undoubtedly masked ambassadors of destruction might very well be unsparing in their fanatical errand.

The shock on Lady Rachael’s face was replaced by stony resolve as she turned to face Indiga, whose fangs were already bared. “We shall be swift in their dispatch, my Lady,” said the vampire. “Their masters will know nothing of what befell them.” She disappeared in a blur to rally Philip and Micayla.

“How many of the invaders?” I asked no one in particular. For all I knew those damnable soldiers had silver ammunition.

Catalina had regained her composure. “Forty. They had this building surrounded, and I do not know their strategy for entering — ”

She stopped when we heard the screams. Gunfire erupted in vain as the three vampires, faster than human vision can follow, engaged in the counterattack. All of us sped out of the room and to the stairs, running down as fast as possible while Meridiana sailed to the dance floor and literally passed through the wall.

As we reached the main entrance, I noticed something that had previously escaped my thinking: the revelers from all three floors were now either on the mezzanine in various stages of undress, or on the dance floor in their party clothes or in leather and thongs, all staring in disbelief at the sounds they had heard. One of the women who had been tending the bar approached our group with a look of shock and fear. Lady Rachael raised her hand at the woman, who froze in mid-step.

The High Priestess gathered her witches and her novice into a huddle and spoke imperceptibly for only a second or two before they all fanned out along along the width of the main floor. With but a nod from their leader, they spoke in one voice.

“REMEMBER NOTHING.”

They all snapped their fingers in unison, and the now-perplexed looking crowd simply returned to their sensual activities and dancing, as the music resumed. The woman returned to her post behind the bar, wondering how on Earth she got to where she found herself.

We slowly made our way outside. All we saw were the three vampires, waiting patiently for us; no bodies, no pools of blood on the blacktop, no ejected shells from whatever weapons the commandos had fired. I was very confused, yet marveled at the scene which mere minutes past was the locus of carnage.

Lady Rachael knew differently and smiled. “I will never fully know how your kind can clean up after such a battle, and in all candor, I do not wish to know.”

Indiga and her fellows let out a hearty laugh, which was more the release of the stress we all endured than a response to the Elder’s quip. “We have sharpened our skills for millennia, and pass them down accordingly. I shall demonstrate one day, my Lady, if you so desire.”

At this we all could now laugh and rest easier, now that Meridiana was safe.

Yet where was she? “Meridiana?” I cried.

She appeared from behind one of the utility vehicles used by the commandos. As the siren floated slightly above the ground, the vampires bowed to her, and she bowed in return.

“Meridiana was extremely helpful in ensuring our enemies were, ummm, disarmed. Once the first shots rang out, she presented herself in her full glory, and the de Nocte were unwilling to tear their eyes away. Either they were not fully informed of their quarry, or they were and promptly forgot! We were able to neutralize them with little effort.”

I was still curious. “But Indiga, the screams — are they all…?”

“Oh, no Peine!” she replied. “We were in no danger at all! They simply never confronted three real live vampires before. Meridiana calmed them down, so to speak, and our superior physical strength knocked them cold. They are out like lights in their vehicles, which we intend to drive to, oh, I don’t know — the Marble Mountains, the Mojave Desert, maybe Death Valley…and of course we’ll confiscate their phones. I’d say around thirty-five of them will resign and run home to their respective mothers!”

That elicited another much-needed round of laughter.

I turned to face Lady Rachael. “Elder of Covens, Lady Rachael, I cannot thank you enough. I am forever in your debt; if you have need of anything, anything at all — ”

The High Priestess placed her on my mouth to silence me. “This was a task we all were destined to perform, friend Peine. We were duty-bound to rescue an unjustly imprisoned ancient being from the clutches of the mundane, and you were obliged to seek the answers to a vicissitude unasked for. Our synergy was divinely ordained, I am thinking.”

We embraced tightly. Somehow, I knew this would not be the last I would see of Lady Rachael and the White Witches.

I then looked at Indiga, Micayla, Philip, and Darian. Before I could speak, Indiga’s indicated Meridiana. I knew what she meant — what of the siren?

“Meridiana, may I inquire of your intentions? Opus Dei de Nocte and their masters will not readily admit defeat, and my hope is that my former siblings need not fear you in the future.”

This golden figure of uncanny sublimity floated closer to me and her feet settled to the ground. Her features gradually formed into those of a human woman, just as glorious in her splendor as before. She placed her hand on my left shoulder, sending a warmth and a calm I rarely enjoyed since I was transformed.

“As I said earlier, dear Mr. Peine,” she said, “any verbal apology would be a weak expression of my immeasurable remorse.”

Meridiana then glanced at Indiga, who nodded ever so slightly. I looked over in confusion at Lady Rachael, whose countenance reflected the curiosity rising in my mind. Something between the siren and the vampire was clearly in the offing.

“I accept that I am a relic,” continued Meridiana, “for long before the Eros appeared, I and my kin were the founts of seduction and desire. I remained because they who were avatars of the Goddess Mother of All Things and Places knew I was not an evil to be extinguished. My imprisonment and rescue have given me pause to think upon what type of future awaits one such as I.”

“Siren,” I said, “you do not belong in Hades, or in any other prison, real or imagined. You no doubt have a place in the Cosmos.”

“I agree, my new friend. That is why I wish to offer you a gift, a gift well-deserved.”

“Meridiana,” I replied, “you owe me no debt. I forgive you, without qualification. The Mother’s justice is perfect, Meridiana. I accept Her judgment because I love Her without condition.”

“As I love you without condition,” said the siren. I could not hide the shock her statement sent through me. She had to have known of the Mother’s edict concerning the limits imposed upon me. Meridiana went on.

“I offer you my essence, dear Peine. It is not the unwelcome possession I forced upon you years ago; it is a merging of spirits, a shared existence of rebirth, wherein we live as one, and we love as one.

“I spoke of this to the vampire Indiga. She and I realized that the only way such a bond could be effected is for her to turn you into one of her kind; only she can do this for she shares a past identical to your own. The result is that you, Peine, will become a most unique member of the supernaturals — not a vampire, not an Eros, not an incubus, certainly not human, but a new entity combining the finest traits of all.

“I ask the great Lady Rachael, whose concordance with the Mother Goddess is the strongest among us gathered here, to seek Her favor and permission.”

“I shall,” replied the High Priestess. She raised her arms for a few seconds, then lowered them to reach out to her coveners, including the novice Thomas. They formed a circle a began to breathe in unison.

All this time my mind was reeling, spinning, making me lightheaded. I thought I would lose my balance with all the thoughts swirling in my human brain. “A unique entity?” What did that really mean? It sounded like a return to being the creature I was, to the existence I deeply missed and wished for at my very core — yet is it what I truly wanted?

It was all happening in rapid succession: Meridiana and Indiga conferring to create this, this “gift;” the siren describing a process of which none of us were the least bit aware; and Lady Rachael, easily acquiescing to bespeak of the Almighty Creatrix of the Multiverses for Her consent to this new — species ?— of paranormal and otherworldly thing…

I stared up at the stars. Is this real? Am I in some dream state, to soon regain consciousness in the parking lot of a sex club or in the back seat of a Bentley on my way back to —

“Mother has answered us,” intoned Lady Rachael. That surely snapped me out the uncertain reverie.

“Mr. Peine — you who once held the title of Eros, you of the name none but your own could speak — our loving Mother permits this transformation. Nonetheless, it will not transpire without your unforced consent.

“Do you, Peine, agree to become that which has never existed before?”

Again, I felt all eyes upon me. Meridiana and Idiga held hopeful, nearly begging looks. The High Priestess regarded me with her customary stern mien. The vampires and witches stared at me with a curiosity and wonder I could never adequately describe. The same could be of racing thoughts.

Up until that time, I was resigned to mortality. I knew nothing of death; the thing itself was never an acquaintance, yet would be in due course. I accepted it as I accepted my penalty: Le Peine…yet the unity with the formidable Meridiana, the fellowship with Indiga and those who took me in to help me when I thought I would never know why I failed…

“I consent!”

The circle of witches immediately broke and reformed around me, Meridiana, and Indiga. Lady Rachael motioned for Micayla, Darien, and Philip to join them in the circle. The solemnity of the moment brought a power and force to the proceedings. I stood, motionless, as the siren stood before me, mere inches between us, and I felt Indiga approach me from behind, equally near.

Meridiana said, “What we do will be simultaneous. Please, dear man, do not be afraid. This will be a new definition of beauty, grace, and ecstasy.”

Indiga whispered, “It’s gonna hurt a little bit, though. Like a bee sting.”

All at once, I felt both a surge of energy, a life force coursing through every nerve and bone and tissue, and the brief sting of Indiga’s fangs piercing my carotid artery. As the power of Meridiana’s entrance into my very soul spread across my core self, embracing my inner being, the retrovirus of vampirism ran through my arteries and veins and capillaries as Indiga’s mouth held fast to the wound she created, draining me of human blood as the siren’s radiating ichor replaced it.

The two supernatural powers, uniting, melding, fusing into the newness, built up to what felt like a boiling point until a flash of blue and sepia light that would have burnt human eyes into cinders surrounded me, and I fell to the ground in Indiga’s arms just as she released her fangs, covering the punctures as she let me down slowly.

I looked up at her, feeling spent and renewed at the same time. I smiled.

“So,” she said, “where should we drive those guys?”

Life is different now.

*The list price of a fully loaded 2020 Bentley Flying Spur happens to total to $261,550.