If she went missing, the police would do nothing more than to conduct the most cursory of investigations and close it as a missing person’s case. Jericho’s pockets were very deep.
The Enclave was bedecked with lanterns for the Gathering. The Gathering of werebears only happened once a year for the Atreides clan and their kin came from far and wide. The members were scattered across the world, coming in from as far as Australia for this occasion, which rivaled Christmas.
The walls were swathed with silk and damask. A champagne fountain was placed in the center of the hall, and guests could fill their glasses directly from it. Close-faced waiters walked around with trays of canapés and hor douvres. Unlike a Mayday Gathering, this one was dedicated to the Monhain, or appeasing the Beast.
The Atreides clan were the keepers of the age-old Balance. It was a very important task, one that cannot be underscored. Legend has it that if a virgin was not fed to the Beast once a year on the Monhain, the very foundations of the Earth itself would be splintered apart.
Kyle wasn’t sure if he could believe that, or that it was a metaphor for something else. After all, as far as he was concerned, the world was already tearing itself apart. The population was on the increase, crowding out diminishing resources and burning up precious fuel. Mother Nature was on her path of wrath. Species were becoming extinct by the second. The Earth was on ferocious burnout, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Still, understandably, the Elders were determined not to risk the Beast’s wrath. The Elders had kept the Beast under wraps with the Monhain for centuries. Who was Kyle to argue with the knowledge and tradition of centuries?
And why wake a hibernating Beast if you didn’t have to, even if you didn’t truly believe it existed?
*
Alison arrived in a very pretty yellow dress. She was all decked up with artificial fairy wings for the masquerade themed party, and her cheeks were flushed with a billionaire’s attention. Perhaps she truly believed that she had caught a handsome billionaire’s fancy and was on her way to being Mrs. Jericho Number Two.
Kyle knew that his father had already composed and printed out the computer-typed letter. It had been tacked onto Alison’s monitor on her desk for anyone, especially Alison’s roommate, to read.
‘Something major happened. Something big. Don’t know when I’ll be coming back. Don’t miss me. Bye.
Alison.’
It was even signed with her signature, which Jericho had procured earlier.
“Hello, Alison,” Kyle said affably.
Alison sized him up. He could tell that she found him very attractive.
“Hello, Kyle. Big party tonight?” she said eagerly.
“Yes.”
“Do you have big parties like these often?”
“Sometimes. Would you like some wine?”
A waiter passed by on cue and Kyle stopped him. He appropriated a seemingly random wine glass from the tray and gave it to Alison. But the glass was anything but random. It was the one perched on the left edge of the tray.
“Thank you.” Alison took it from him and sipped from it. “Who are all these people?”
The Atreides kin were in full deck tonight. They streamed in, dressed in all their finery, men and women alike. This was a fancy dress ball and so they came in their Halloween gear, donning anything from Catwoman outfits to Thor headgear. But they all had one theme in common – the costumes were all sexy. Cleavages were exposed. Buttocks were revealed in naughty ways. Bodies were displayed in the most salacious of ways possible.
Alison’s eyes popped out of her head.
“Mostly relatives and friends of relatives,” Kyle said affably. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was glazing over. The drugs were strong. But unlike what she had been given earlier, this one was not designed to knock her out entirely.
As the evening wore on, Alison got higher and higher. She laughed loudly. She made crass jokes. She danced and spun on her heels. Everyone knew she was the designated sacrifice, of course, and everyone indulged her. Kyle was feeling extremely high himself, having drunk the champagne which was spiked with Ecstasy.
The guests began to shed their clothes. The party took on the spirit of a rave. Brassieres were thrown onto floors, along with underwear. Boobs flashed everywhere, as did penises. The music was thudding a primal beat and something from Nine Inch Nails was on.
I want to fuck you like an animal, crooned Trent Reznor.
Kyle was desperately aroused. There was always something very sexual about the Gatherings, no matter what purpose they might be for. His cock was very hard in his tight leather pants and he had to cling to a pillar to steady himself.