The Sins of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

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      BORGO PRESS BOOKS BY VICTOR J. BANIS

      The Astral: Till the Day I Die

      Avalon: An Historical Novel

      The C.A.M.P. Cookbook

      The C.A.M.P. Guide to Astrology

      Charms, Spells, and Curses for the Millions

      Color Him Gay: That Man from C.A.M.P.

      The Curse of Bloodstone: A Gothic Novel of Terror

      Darkwater: A Gothic Novel of Horror

      The Daughters of Nightsong: An Historical Novel (Nightsong Saga #2)

      The Devil’s Dance: A Novel of Terror

      Drag Thing; or, The Strange Tale of Jackle and Hyde

      The Earth and All It Holds: An Historical Novel

      A Family Affair: A Novel of Terror

      Fatal Flowers: A Novel of Horror

      Fire on the Moon: A Novel of Terror

      The Gay Dogs: That Man from C.A.M.P.

      The Gay Haunt

      The Glass House: A Novel of Terror

      The Glass Painting: A Gothic Tale of Horror

      Goodbye, My Lover

      The Greek Boy

      The Green Rolling Hills: Writings from West Virginia (editor)

      Green Willows: A Novel of Terror

      Kenny’s Back

      Life & Other Passing Moments: A Collection of Short Writings

      The Lion’s Gate: A Novel of Terror

      Love’s Pawn: A Novel of Romance

      Lucifer’s Daughter: A Novel of Horror

      Moon Garden: A Novel of Terror

      Nightsong: An Historical Novel (Nightsong Saga #1)

      The Pot Thickens: Recipes from Writers and Editors (editor)

      San Antone: An Historical Novel

      The Scent of Heather: A Novel of Terror

      The Second House: A Novel of Terror

      The Second Tijuana Bible Reader (editor)

      The Sins of Nightsong: An Historical Novel (Nightsong Saga #3)

      Spine Intact, Some Creases: Remembrances of a Paperback Writer

      Stranger at the Door: A Novel of Suspense

      Sweet Tormented Love: A Novel of Romance

      The Sword and the Rose: An Historical Novel

      This Splendid Earth: An Historical Novel

      The Tijuana Bible Reader (editor)

      Twisted Flames

      The WATERCRESS File: That Man from C.A.M.P.

      A Westward Love: An Historical Romance

      White Jade: A Novel of Terror

      The Why Not

      The Wine of the Heart: A Novel of Romance

      The Wolves of Craywood: A Novel of Terror

      COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

      Copyright © 1982 by Ben All, Inc.

      Copyright © 2012 by Victor J. Banis

      *

      Published by Wildside Press LLC

      www.wildsidebooks.com

      DEDICATION

      I am deeply indebted to my friend, Heather, for all the help she has given me in getting these early works of mine reissued.

      And I am grateful as well to Rob Reginald, for all his assistance and support.

      PART ONE

      CHAPTER ONE

      San Francisco—1891

      Lydia Nightsong stretched on tiptoe, trying to see Peter MacNair among the crowd of passengers aboard the ship, waiting for the gangplank to be lowered.

      There—yes, there he was! She waved, but could not tell if he had seen her. Well, surely he wouldn’t have sent her the cablegram telling her of his arriving home if he had not intended for her to meet him.

      It was odd, receiving the other cablegram, the one from April, the very same day Peter was to arrive from China. It had come only a short while before she’d left the house. Lydia took her daughter’s cable from her pocket and read it again: “Coming home. Stop. Will advise when. Stop” was all it said, except for her name.

      David was dead; Peter’s cable had told her that. April was coming home, but not with Peter. What did it all mean, she wondered for perhaps the hundredth time? She hoped Peter could explain some of it to her.

      Someone touched her elbow and Lydia turned, meaning to excuse herself. “Raymond!” she cried, surprised to find the husband April had abandoned in Paris standing beside her. “But I thought you were in Europe.”

      “I just arrived back,” Raymond said, taking her arm in a proprietary manner. “Mrs. Clary, your secretary, told me you were here. Expecting a shipment?”

      “I—no, I was looking for someone—a friend,” she said, glancing back toward the ship. The gangplank was down and the passengers were beginning to file off; there was no sign, however, of Peter.

      “I’ll wait with you,” Raymond said. “I’ve been so eager to see you that I couldn’t stand to wait around for you to return to the office. Is your friend coming?”

      Lydia scanned the crowds, but Peter seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps...but then she caught a glimpse of Lorna MacNair and a tall man with sandy hair—Peter—embracing her.

      She felt a raging deep inside her but forced it back. She gave Raymond a helpless smile. “No, I suppose she isn’t on this ship after all,” Lydia said as the last of the passengers trickled ashore. She shrugged. “She did say there was a possibility she would have to catch a later one.”

      Raymond gave her a peculiar look, but didn’t argue. He took her arm instead and began to lead her through the crowd toward where he had a carriage waiting.

      In the distance, Peter caught a glimpse of Lydia leaving with the Frenchman. He turned his wife carefully away so that Lorna would not see them as they got into the carriage. It had been the merest bad luck that his secretary had taken it upon herself to inform Lorna of his arrival.

      The merest luck too, he supposed, that he had seen that Lydia was with the Frenchman before he’d dashed down the gangplank and seized her in his arms as he had been burning to do. A pretty kettle of fish that would have been—her with her latest suitor on her arm, and Lorna there to watch the entire debacle.

      “The carriage is this way,” Lorna was saying. “Heavens, what a mob...do you see someone you know?”

      Peter watched as Lydia’s carriage disappeared away from the dock. He gave his head a shake and started resolutely in the direction Lorna had indicated. “No, no one,” he said.

      As they settled themselves in the brougham Lorna studied her husband for a moment. “You are looking very tired, Peter.” She put her hand on his arm.

      Peter tactfully reached for his handkerchief, moving away from her touch. “I am feeling very tired,” he said, ignoring her angry frown.

      “I must admit, Peter, that I am completely at a loss to understand why you did not tell me you were arriving home today. And why isn’t David with you?” She saw his expression darken, as it often did when he wanted to shut her out. “I know we aren’t exactly the ideal