Read Online GODDESS OF THE MOON (A Diana Racine Psychic Suspense) by Polly Iyer - Free Book Online
Authors: Polly Iyer
Ads: Link
believed to be the eye of Lucifer ― control it and you control the world’s financing. The goat’s head, mocking Jesus as the “lamb” who died for our sins. And last, the hexagram, a potent image of darkness and magic. There were more symbols , she knew , grateful they’d been omitted.
At age seventeen, when she expressed an interest in the occult, her parents thought she’d crossed over into another realm , that her psychic gifts had become rooted in the netherworld. H er father considered an intervention to release whatever evil spirit had entered her body , but h e dismissed the idea when he thought of the publicity it would garner. Diana’s fascination passed, but not before she ’d immersed herself in the history and culture of the mystical.
Ultimately , she determined her visions were granted for a reason . Now, shrugging off the visceral effects of the symbols before her, she thought of the past, thought of the present . Of the babies . And she knew why she was there .
She turned her back on the symbols and walked across the hall into the blue room, then the pink, with their cribs and sunlight and colorful mobiles floating over where babies once had lain. The babies in these rooms were fed and nurtured and yes, loved. F or what? An offering to Lucifer ? A donation to the god of darkness?
She sat in the rocking chair, and a sense of innocence overwhelmed her. Before long, she was rocking back and forth, embracing a weight so light it barely kissed her skin. She felt her breasts as never before, hard and full, and when she looked down, damp rings stained her blouse. Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks. In the pure room. In the evil house.
Chapter Twelve
Transformation
L ucier rang the neighbor’s bell and waited patiently until a teenage boy answered. In the middle of his asking if the boy’s parents were home, a middle-aged woman came to the door.
He flashed his badge and asked about their neighbors in the pink house without mentioning the reasons for his interest .
“I’m Marjorie Wilton,” the woman said. “Come in.” Her husband joined them and Lucier listened as the two people related what went on in the pink house.
“I’m not a busybody,” Mrs. Wilton said, “but ever since that house sold ― what, Stan, a year ago?”
“ Give or take ,” Mr. Wilton said.
“Ever since, weird things have been happening over there . Not all the time. Maybe twice a month.”
“Like what?” Lucier asked.
“They’re not close to us, and you have to be outside to hear the sounds . Chan ting, wouldn’t you say, honey?”
“Sounded like that to me. Cars on the street and in the driveway. Expensive cars. Cadillacs , Mercedes, Lexus, even a Rolls once or twice. That’s how we knew something was going on.”
“Don’t forget the girls,” the boy said.
“What girls?” Lucier asked.
“Two of them. I tried to talk to one once, but she wouldn’t even look at me. Both of them were really pretty.”
“I’ve seen them too ,” Mr. Wilton said . “ They come and go at different times, like they ’re swap ping shifts .”
“What did they look like?”
“Built,” the boy said without hesitation.
“Jeff!” his mother scolded.
“Well, they were. You couldn’t help noticing. They were older than me. The younger one had long blonde hair and the other dark red. Both of them had big, you know, big ― ” He cupped his hands in front of his chest. “Really big. You’d have to be blind not to notice.” He looked at his dad, who bit his bottom lip and turned away, embarrassed.
Oh, yes, Lucier thought. You’d have to be blind. “Did you call the police about the noise?”
“No. Like I said, you couldn’t hear it in the house , and I didn’t want to get involved. They weren’t bothering anyone. It was just curious, that’s all. I did ask the only man I saw during the day what was going on in there, and he said they were playing cards. When I asked about the
At age seventeen, when she expressed an interest in the occult, her parents thought she’d crossed over into another realm , that her psychic gifts had become rooted in the netherworld. H er father considered an intervention to release whatever evil spirit had entered her body , but h e dismissed the idea when he thought of the publicity it would garner. Diana’s fascination passed, but not before she ’d immersed herself in the history and culture of the mystical.
Ultimately , she determined her visions were granted for a reason . Now, shrugging off the visceral effects of the symbols before her, she thought of the past, thought of the present . Of the babies . And she knew why she was there .
She turned her back on the symbols and walked across the hall into the blue room, then the pink, with their cribs and sunlight and colorful mobiles floating over where babies once had lain. The babies in these rooms were fed and nurtured and yes, loved. F or what? An offering to Lucifer ? A donation to the god of darkness?
She sat in the rocking chair, and a sense of innocence overwhelmed her. Before long, she was rocking back and forth, embracing a weight so light it barely kissed her skin. She felt her breasts as never before, hard and full, and when she looked down, damp rings stained her blouse. Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks. In the pure room. In the evil house.
Chapter Twelve
Transformation
L ucier rang the neighbor’s bell and waited patiently until a teenage boy answered. In the middle of his asking if the boy’s parents were home, a middle-aged woman came to the door.
He flashed his badge and asked about their neighbors in the pink house without mentioning the reasons for his interest .
“I’m Marjorie Wilton,” the woman said. “Come in.” Her husband joined them and Lucier listened as the two people related what went on in the pink house.
“I’m not a busybody,” Mrs. Wilton said, “but ever since that house sold ― what, Stan, a year ago?”
“ Give or take ,” Mr. Wilton said.
“Ever since, weird things have been happening over there . Not all the time. Maybe twice a month.”
“Like what?” Lucier asked.
“They’re not close to us, and you have to be outside to hear the sounds . Chan ting, wouldn’t you say, honey?”
“Sounded like that to me. Cars on the street and in the driveway. Expensive cars. Cadillacs , Mercedes, Lexus, even a Rolls once or twice. That’s how we knew something was going on.”
“Don’t forget the girls,” the boy said.
“What girls?” Lucier asked.
“Two of them. I tried to talk to one once, but she wouldn’t even look at me. Both of them were really pretty.”
“I’ve seen them too ,” Mr. Wilton said . “ They come and go at different times, like they ’re swap ping shifts .”
“What did they look like?”
“Built,” the boy said without hesitation.
“Jeff!” his mother scolded.
“Well, they were. You couldn’t help noticing. They were older than me. The younger one had long blonde hair and the other dark red. Both of them had big, you know, big ― ” He cupped his hands in front of his chest. “Really big. You’d have to be blind not to notice.” He looked at his dad, who bit his bottom lip and turned away, embarrassed.
Oh, yes, Lucier thought. You’d have to be blind. “Did you call the police about the noise?”
“No. Like I said, you couldn’t hear it in the house , and I didn’t want to get involved. They weren’t bothering anyone. It was just curious, that’s all. I did ask the only man I saw during the day what was going on in there, and he said they were playing cards. When I asked about the
Similar Books
