I grasp the edge of my prison and lever myself upright.It is a very different group of cultists that surrounds me now. Black robes, cheaply-dyed wool....Hoods raised. No silks or golden sun discs. To the right the owner of the wrist is crumpled, small, robed like the rest. A woman. I study her aura for a moment. Drained, exhausted, probably no permanent damage. In need of rest before being fed on again. The rest have backed off a pace and the chanting has ceased. The crackle of torches compete. Hands pushed down on his shoulders and the greased ball slid painfully into his ass. He tried to pull himself back up, but his arms were held back and slightly above his head. He felt the two men tying his hands to something on the edges of the Jeep.“Luckily for you this is only a 1 1/8" ball,” one of the men said. “Normally I have a 2" or 3" ball mounted there.” He paused and said with a leer, “Now let’s go for a ride.” The Jeep moved slowly up the beach into the darkness. Looking back,. More

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