"You can't stay inside that circle forever, little man," he said in a harsh voice, not even remotely human. "How long will you make me wait?"

  Swinging his head from side to side, the Dark Man looked around the oum'phor. "The light in here bothers me. Would you mind if I turn it out? Let's get real cozy."

  With a laugh, he waved one. giant hand in a casual gesture. Instantly, all of the lights in the building went out. The room plunged into total darkness.

  "Do not move an inch," said Papa Benjamin, his voice calm. "A few steps in the wrong direction would kill us both."

  Ape could hear his companion fumbling with the items on the socle. "After your story, I expected as much," said the priest, striking a match against the socle. He grinned at Ape in the flickering light. "Thus I brought with me a good supply of candles."

  Carefully, Papa Benjamin placed a burning white wax candle at the end of each of the four lines of his cross. Meanwhile, Ape scrambled the short distance to the center post.

  Outside the circle, the Dark Man paced back and forth just beyond the chalk lines. His red eyes glared at them in unblinking rage.

  "When the time comes, I'll make sure you last a long, long time," said the Dark Man. The sound of his voice made Ape shiver. "I'll start with your toes. First I'll break the bones, then I'll cut them off one at a time. Then, when you think the pain can't get any worse . . ."

  In clear, pure tones that rang through the darkness, Papa Benjamin began to pray. "Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . . Glory Be to the Father ..."

  At the end of each invocation, Papa Benjamin shook his asson in the direction of his enemy. Bathed in the white light of the candles, the little priest stood firm and unyielding against the threatening darkness. He was no charlatan like Willis Royce. For the first time in his entire life, Ape knew he stood in the presence of a true holy man, a priest of the voodoo Mysteres, houn'gan of the Invisibles.

  "Hail Jesus . . .

  Glory Be to the Son . , .

  Holy Angels, we are on our knees at the feet of Mary . . .

  Saint Anthony, hear us ...

  Jesus, hear us ...

  Saint Patrick, Danballah Wedo, hear us ..."

  The Dark Man howled in pain. Shaking his massive head, he fell back and away from the magic circle. Unseen winds tugged at his overcoat and hat, ripping at his sleeves. Papa Benjamin's prayer and veves had summoned the Great Serpent of lfe'.

  Roaring with incredible agony, the Dark Man stumbled into the shadows of the oum'phor. A creature of the night, he sought escape in the darkness. But there was no hiding from the power of Danballah, the most ancient god of voodoo.

  "Saint Luke, hear us ...

  Hail the Master Creator of Heaven and the Earth . . .

  Come, my God, come . . .

  Saint Peter, give us the key which opens the gate ..."

  With that entreaty, the lights above quivered, and then flashed back on. The Dark Man screamed as the full force of the beams struck his body. In the brightness, he seemed smaller, less threatening.

  The rattle of the asson filled the room. Papa Benjamin continued to chant, each verse of his prayer slashing into the Dark Man like the cut of a knife.

  "Great God, intercede for us ...

  Saint Joseph, intercede with Jesus our Redeemer, for us ...

  All saints, all saints, all saints, hear us . . ."

  "Enough!" shrieked the Dark Man at the invocation of all saints. "You've won this round, old man. But I'll be back. I'll be back soon enough!"

  Ape blinked in astonishment. The Dark Man moved faster than humanly possible. Whirling around and about, he was out the door of the oum'phor in a second. His departure was in some ways the most frightening aspect of the entire incident. Nothing even vaguely human moved that fast. It emphasized the Dark Man's supernormal aspects. For all of his human shape, he was definitely not mortal.

  "You frightened him off," said Ape cautiously, turning to Papa Benjamin. "You defeated the Dark Man."

  "I won a small victory," answered the houn'gan, with a heavy sigh, "but it will take much more than a few prayers to destroy this monster."

  Thoughtfully, he pointed to a serrated machete hanging on the rear wall of the oum'phor. "Take the Sword of La Place. It defends the righteous against the forces of evil. Perhaps we can use it against our enemy."

  "Use it?" asked Ape. "What do you mean?"

  "We cannot rest until we destroy the Dark Man," said Papa Benjamin wearily. "Otherwise we will live in constant fear of his return. The magic circle protected us from his attack this time. However, I do not plan to live at the center of a veve for the rest of my life."

  "You're calling the shots," said Ape, not very happily. "I gave you my word. What next?"

  "We try phoning that detective, Taine," said Papa Benjamin, heading for the stairs to his apartment. "The Dark Man mentioned another victim for tonight. He obviously meant Taine. We must warn him."

  "What if we can't reach him in time?" said Ape, knowing the answer even as he asked the question.

  "Then," said Papa Benjamin somberly, "Mr. Taine, and anyone with him, is a dead man."

  35

  The rickety old elevator wheezed and creaked its way up to the top floor of the eight-story building. Janet carefully read the inspection notice posted next to the door. According to the card, this rickety box could hold six people safely. The mere thought of sharing the lift with five other hapless souls gave her claustrophobia. Slowly, ever so slowly, the elevator continued to rise.

  Taine lived in a time-worn apartment house on the Near North Side, only a few blocks from the lake and not far from Wrigley Field. By the time she found a parking space, the rain that had been falling all evening dissipated into a light mist. Still, she took her umbrella when she left the car. In Chicago the weather changed every hour.

  With a prayer of thanks, Janet got off the elevator. There were eight units on each floor. According to the listing in the lobby, Taine lived in apartment 805. Quietly, she walked halfway down the hall to the correct apartment. Purse and umbrella held in one hand, she gently rapped on the door with the other. She couldn't repress a grin, envisioning Taine's surprised look when he answered her knock.

  After a few seconds, the smile faded into a frown of annoyance. No sound of movement came from inside the apartment. She had never given any thought to the possibility Taine might not be home.

  She knocked again, a little harder this time. Still no answer. Shrugging her shoulders, she reached down with her free hand and tried turning the doorknob. Maybe he was listening to a stereo with headphones. Or he could be so lost in a book he completely blotted out the rest of the world. Taine struck her as just the type.

  To her surprise, the door was open. Janet hesitated for a minute, wondering if she was doing the right thing. What if she found Taine entertaining another guest. Immediately her mind flashed a picture of her lover clutched in the embrace of a very naked Angel Caldwell.

  Janet fought back a giggle. Angel devoured innocents like Taine for breakfast. And for other snacks as well. There seemed little chance of facing that surprise. Much likelier to find Taine curled up in bed with a good book than a cheap slut like Angel. Confidently Janet entered the apartment.

  None of the lights were on, but all the curtains were open. This high up, the bright orange glow of the city's sodium vapor streetlights cast an eerie pall over the dimly seen furniture.

  "Taine," called Janet, softly, sensing something wrong. Nobody went to sleep with the door unlocked and all the lights off. "Taine?"

  No one answered. Cautiously she moved forward to the center of the room. A freestanding giant goose-necked lamp hovered over a comfortable-looking dark sofa. Janet turned the switch back and forth. Nothing happened.

  "Must have blown a fuse in the apartment," she said aloud, trying to build up her courage. "The circuit breakers must be in the basement."

  She debated returning to the hall. The empty apartment gave her the creeps. Still, she wanted to surprise Taine with her presence. What better way than to be here when he returned from fixing the power?

  Feeling a bit edgy, Janet sat down on the sofa. Nervously she fumbled with the latch of her purse. She always carried a package of mints in the bag. She needed one now.

  Sucking on the candy helped calm her down. The familiar sweet taste of sugar always provided her with a quick lift. Relaxing, she eased herself back on the couch. From what she could make out in the darkness, the place struck her as a typical bachelor's apartment. Pleasant enough, but static, she decided. Except for a big wood bookcase stuck in one corner, crammed with hardcovers and paperbacks, the room lacked character.

  Behind her, she sensed rather than heard, someone moving. Her eyes widened in shock. She scrambled to her feet, turning as she did so. There was no question as to the identity of the monstrous figure that had emerged from the bedroom and now stood between her and the apartment door.

  "Surprise, surprise," said the Dark Man, with a voice filled with good cheer. "I come looking for an inquisitive detective, and who do I find instead? A beautiful lady in distress. I consider that a pretty fair trade."

  "What do you want from me?" said Janet, backing away from the giant.

  "Not much," answered the Dark Man. Reaching beneath the folds of his overcoat, he pulled out his butcher's cleaver. "I don't want much at all. Just some of your blood to clean my blade."

  Janet screamed. And screamed again.

  The Dark Man laughed, shaking his huge head. "Make all the noise you want. No one ever responds in apartment buildings. The neighbors don't like getting involved. They refuse to meddle in things that don't directly concern them. What a wonderful attitude. It helps make my work so much easier."

  Moving deliberately, the Dark Man circled the couch, closing in on her. Dropping her purse to the floor, Janet retreated around the other arm of the sofa, trying to keep the furniture between them. The door of the apartment beckoned, but she feared exposing her back to her pursuer. She needed a few seconds grace.

  For an instant, they faced each other again across the width of the couch. This time, her back was to the door while the Dark Man fronted the sofa.

  "We could play like this for hours," he said with a chuckle, "but I get dizzy easy." Stepping forward, he put one huge foot onto the cushions. "Shortcut time."

  Fate gave Janet one chance, and she took it. Desperately, she thrust her umbrella straight at the Dark Man's chest. Shoving with all her strength, she jammed the central rod hard into her unbalanced attacker. Using it like a spear, she pushed him back across the room. At the same time, she slammed her palm on the button that automatically unfurled the umbrella's canopy. Wide leaves popped open, tangling with the folds of the Dark Man's overcoat.

  Momentarily confused, the killer bellowed in annoyance. He slashed haphazardly at the cloth and metal spokes with his cleaver.

  Ripping open the front door, Janet dashed into the hall. "Help, help!" she screamed. "Murder, murder, murder!"

  Not a door opened, not a person replied. There was no time to start banging on individual doors, and Janet doubted it would do much good. Already, she could hear the Dark Man coming.

  She sprinted down the hall to the elevator. Furiously she pounded on the button summoning the lift. With a whir of gears clanking into motion, the cables started to turn. Glancing up at the floor indicator, Janet groaned in despair. The car was rising from the first floor. It would never get there in time.

  The stairs offered her the only possible alternative. A heavy fire door marked emergency exit only was located in a small alcove to the side of the elevator. But she was eight long flights of steps up from the street.

  "No more chances!" shouted the Dark Man, from the entrance to Taine's apartment. Waving his cleaver high in the air, the monster spilled out of the door into the hall.

  Janet leapt for the fire exit. Slamming down hard on the crossbar, she butted her shoulder into the heavy steel barrier. The door remained closed. Unused for years, it was warped shut.

  Frantically Janet smashed her body against the metal panels. She hit it with all her strength. Nothing happened. Backing up, she slammed into it again. The barrier creaked a little but refused to give. A third time she flung herself full force into the metal. With a groan of rusted steel, the exit swung free.

  Darting through, she found herself in a dusty, poorly lit stairway. Up or down? Her clothes made the decision for her. She had changed from heels to flats for driving. Otherwise she still wore the black cocktail dress and silk stockings from her date earlier. She would never outrun the Dark Man in that outfit. The roof offered a slim chance of escape, but the stairs promised none.

  Quickly she climbed the dozen steps leading to the roof. She never felt more out of shape than during those few seconds spent scrambling upward. Huffing and puffing, she just reached the trapdoor leading out when the emergency exit crashed open. "I'm going to get you, Janet!" shouted the Dark Man, spotting her almost instantly.

  If a deadbolt lock held the trap closed, she was dead. Grimly Janet pushed up with both hands. Surprisingly the door rose smoothly. Moving as fast as humanly possible, she climbed out through the opening onto the roof.

  She slammed the trap shut behind her. In seconds the Dark Man would be up the stairs. Somehow she had to prevent him from opening the door.

  Scrambling to her knees, Janet grunted in sudden pain as a sharp object tore at her leg. Astonished, she found herself staring at a slide-bolt screwed into the heavy wood door. Another one matched the first on the other side of the hatch. Evidently other people used the roof for privacy. That explained the greased hinges and the outside locks. Sliding the bolts shut effectively sealed off the roof from the world below.

  Crash! The hatch shuddered from the impact as her pursuer smashed at it from below. He hit it again and again, unceasingly, untiringly. Biting her lower lip, Janet backed away from the door. The bolts held firm, but the wood paneling could only stand so much. It would only be a few minutes before the Dark Man broke through.

  The rain had stopped, and the moon and stars winked at Janet through small breaks in the cloud covering. Together they provided her with enough light to survey her haven. There wasn't much to be seen. Except for a few slabs of rotting wood, the roof was bare. Anxiously she looked for some sort of ladder attached to the wall.

  A minute's searching confirmed her worst suspicions. There was nothing. Despite city ordinances, no fire escape descended to the street below. The stairs were the only way down. She had made the wrong choice. Now she was trapped on the roof of the tallest building in the neighborhood.

  "Help me, help me," she shouted to the empty streets, realizing the futility of her cries. Even if someone summoned the police, they could never make it to the top of this building on time. Behind her, she could hear the wood cracking before the Dark Man's relentless hammering. This time there was nowhere to run.

  36

  Taine heard the screams nearly a block away from his apartment. Faint, desperate cries for help rode the night winds. Instinctively he started running, trying to pinpoint the scene of the crime. Unlike most city dwellers, he felt a moral obligation to get involved.

  Within seconds he realized the yelling came from the roof of his building. An imminent sense of dread sent him sprinting at top speed along the sidewalk. He might be imagining things, but that voice sounded like Janet's. Fear turned into shock as he spotted her car parked on the street. How and why she was here didn't matter. She was up on the roof. And her terrified shrieks signaled the presence of one other—the Dark Man.

  Taine barreled through the front lobby of the apartment building without slowing down. Screeching to a stop, he anxiously hit the call button for the elevator. Gears whirred as the cables started turning. The car was up on the eighth floor. It would take minutes before it reached ground level. There was nothing he could do but wait and pray.

  He had gone for a stroll twenty minutes before. The events at dinner still weighed heavily on his conscience. Even though he acted in Janet's best interests, he felt pretty bad about the whole scene. Deliberately hurting anyone, even with good cause, never appealed to him. And Janet meant much more to him than most people. In just two days, she had become someone very special.

  He still wondered if he had revealed too much to her about the Black Lodge. Earlier it seemed like the best course. If Janet didn't know the truth, she might underestimate the measures Roger would risk to join the order. Now he questioned the wisdom of his actions.

  The long walk in the night air had strengthened his resolve. He hated deceiving Janet, but he had no choice in the matter. Unknown to her, sinister undercurrents swirled about her young son. Timmy meant much more to this case than she realized. Her misguided interference could easily result in the boy's death. Arelim plotted on many levels. Taine felt like a blindfolded chess player, trying to guess his opponent's next move in advance. He had no room for error.

  With a shudder of protesting steel, the elevator door ground open. Taine rushed in and pressed the button for his floor. With painstaking slowness, the door slid closed and the lift started to rise. His throat dry, his body drenched in cold sweat, Taine watched the levels tick by. An eternity passed in little more than a minute.

  With a jolt, the car finally came to rest. Precious seconds ticked by until the door opened again. Taine dashed into the hallway. His incredulous eyes spotted the fire door ripped off its hinges. From above, from the roof, he could hear faint screams. Janet was still alive. But for how long?

  A sharp damp wind howled in the stairwell. Taine stumbled up the steps, his fear making him clumsy. The trapdoor leading outside had been smashed to splinters. Another indication of the inhuman strength of his enemy. How could any mortal man defeat this monster? It seemed impossible. But he had to try.

  Grabbing hold of the remains of the hatch, Taine pulled himself up onto the roof. It only took an instant to locate Janet and her attacker. The Dark Man had maneuvered her into the far west corner of the building. She was backed up to the juncture of the two intersecting walls. In her hands, she held a long narrow wood post. A dozen feet away stood her tormentor.