Chapter 6

The flames around The Circle were subsiding, having exhausted the spilled oil. Miraculously, the entire building hadn't gone up in flames. Steed used the tip of his umbrella to poke at the pile of ashes that used to be Gallion's robe. Of Gallion, there was no sign; but Steed had clearly seen the burning oil pour over the evil visage. No man could have survived it.

Slag was huddled on the floor in a fetal position, breathing heavily. Steed stepped over him and picked up one of the latex masks.

"Miss Fox... Rita." Steed shook her gently. "What you saw—what you thought you saw—none of it was real!" He wagged the false demon's head at her.

Her eyes were still glazed and unfocused. "Where is my master?" she asked dreamily.

"No man is your master," Steed countered. He picked up the nearby white robe and held it open for her. "Here, put some clothes on." Then he realized that the robe was virtually transparent, and there would be little point in wearing it. Rita turned aside his offer with a wave of her hand. She stood there facing him, naked, with the blasting rod still clutched in her hands.

"I am the Vessel!" she fired back angrily. She walked over to the altar as if in a trance. "Gallion is my master."

"Gallion is dead," Steed announced. "He was burned alive."

Rita shook her head. "He is not dead. He has returned to the Lower Levels."

The merest trace of a smile tugged at Steed's mouth. "Then I'm pleased to have sent him there." Steed gently took the wand from her hand and tossed it into one of the sputtering flames dancing across the floor. There was a burst of ignition as the dry hazelwood was consumed.

Steed rummaged around on the floor and found Rita's leather skirt, red satin top, and matching panties. He offered them to her.

"Get dressed, Miss Fox. I'll take you back to my place where you can have a lie down. You'll feel better after a few hours, once the drugs are out of your system."

Rita turned away from the altar to face him once again. "Your place? To lie down?" There was a strange look in her eyes. "Yes, that would suit me perfectly." She walked blankly past him and up the stairs, eschewing the clothes he had thrust at her. Steed hustled after her, but she had already reached his car before he caught up.

He grabbed the blanket from the rear seat and forced it over her shoulders. It was her favorite blanket, the one she always used when riding in the Bentley. She accepted it, finally conceding to cover her nakedness.

-oOo-

The chimes of Big Ben were faintly audible in Steed's apartment as the clock on his sideboard struck midnight. Rita had now been asleep on his sofa for two hours. As a gentleman, he had looked away as he tried to talk Miss Fox into wearing clothes, but she had adamantly refused to have anything to do with apparel. Within minutes, she had collapsed onto his sofa and fallen into an exhausted sleep. He had fetched a blanket from his bedroom to cover her sleeping form.

Steed was now in the kitchen, brewing a strong pot of tea. He heard a fitful noise from the living room and rushed in to investigate.

Miss Fox had kicked the blanket off again, and she was sprawled naked on the sofa. Steed appraised her with a look not of lust, but of aesthetic appreciation. She was an exquisite work of art, like a Goya painting. The fiery hair cascading over her shoulders, the small but firm breasts with the soft pink nipples, the flat stomach and deep navel, and the delicate red-auburn curls nestled between her thighs. He picked up the blanket from the floor and covered her with it, tenderly tucking it around her shoulders.

Steed returned to the kitchen to finish making the tea. Minutes later, he heard a sudden cry which brought a smile to his lips.

"I have no clothes on!" Rita shouted from the living room. "Why do I have no clothes on?" She hugged the blanket tightly around her body.

Steed poked his head out from the kitchen.

"They're on the floor next to the couch, Miss Fox." He managed a wry grin. "You didn't want to put them on, and I didn't want to wrestle them onto you. At least, not until you could enjoy it. I'll get you some tea."

After creating a brief flurry of clanking noises in the kitchen, Steed came through the archway that led into the living room. He was carrying a serving tray with a pot of strong tea, two cups, and a few cakes, in case Miss Fox needed to regain her strength.

"Good to see that you're finally dressed," Steed smiled. "Well, most of the way," he amended as he looked her over. Rita had donned the red satin panties and top. He sat down on the sofa next to her, and she snuggled up to him.

"Feeling better, my dear?" he asked.

"I feel like I've been run over by a lorry." Rita delicately sipped the tea he offered and set it back down on the tray.

"Do you remember anything?"

"I was in a bookshop..."

"The Queen Of Wands," Steed supplied helpfully.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I found your car out front."

"Is my Mini okay?"

"More intact than your dignity," Steed teased.

Rita frowned. "I hope I didn't do anything I'll regret later."

"You can always move to another country and take a new name. What happened at the bookshop?"

"I was attacked by a man called Slag. After I prepared him for an audition with the Vienna Boys' Choir, two other men took me to see that warlock you told me about."

"Gallion," Steed declared.

Rita's eyes got as large as saucers on hearing the name. For a second, Steed worried that she might lapse back into the trance. Then her eyes returned to normal and she continued talking.

"There was a period of time where I can't seem to remember anything. I felt..." Rita searched for an appropriate word. "Empty."

Steed nodded. "He may have used hypnosis in addition to drugs. A blackout wouldn't be uncommon. You actually came to my apartment during that time."

Rita arched her eyebrows at this revelation. She continued her story.

"Then I remember standing in the middle of a room full of people. They were wearing robes. And I... I had no clothes on?" she ventured, hoping for a negation.

Steed smiled. "Naught but your birthday suit," he affirmed.

"Well, that does it," she said dismally. "I truly have no secrets from you any more, John Steed."

"You don't need any," he said reassuringly, patting her hand. This caused her to press her body closer to his. "Go on," he prompted.

"And you came in, and then there was a regular donnybrook, and a lamp turned over... and there was fire. Then it seemed like Slag was attacking you, and I can vaguely remember another attempt on my part to turn him into a capon."

"For which I was grateful," Steed pointed out.

Rita giggled mischievously. "I imagine Slag won't even be able to look at a picture of me any more without crossing his legs."

Just when Steed thought Miss Fox had completely returned to normal, she seemed to recall something. Her question came like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.

"Where is Dantalian?"

Steed stared back at her levelly. "Who?"

"The demon who was helping Gallion control me," Rita answered matter-of-factly.

"Cosmo Gallion had no powers, Miss Fox. You said it yourself earlier; he just had showy gimmicks. I showed you one of the props he was using."

"I saw him, Steed. He opened a trans-dimensional portal and summoned a Creature of the Pit!" An edge of anger was in her voice.

"Miss Fox, listen to yourself!" Steed said reasonably. "You know it couldn't have been real."

She interlaced her fingers with Steed's and pulled his hand up from her waist across her chest, between her breasts, and up to her left shoulder. Steed recognized her need and hugged her tighter to him. She shook her head softly.

"It seemed so real, Steed." Her face was a mask of confusion. "It seemed so real."

-oOo-

With a face hideously distorted from angry red swelling, The Magus stared into the crystal, visualizing the scene in his mind's eye. A woman with red hair embracing a man with wavy dark hair. The vision was the same as the picture on the hand-drawn Tarot card he held. The top of the card bore the Roman numeral VI. It was titled THE LOVERS.

He set the card down next to the crystal and picked up a pair of cloisonné hair clips. Cosmo Gallion smiled, and spoke knowingly to himself.

"The Vessel is filled."

-oOo-