The Rites of Fear

Weird shadows danced on the walls of the vast, grotesquely ornate living room where Tara Mornette sat motionless on her throne-like chair. Beside her stood her nephew, handsome, coldly arrogant. In the doorway were the two Oriental servants, their faces barely masking icy contempt.

But Carol had eyes only for the man who called himself Malon Thorne. A strange force seemed to come from his body. His words were charged with hypnotic power…

…and despite all reason, against her will, Carol felt herself falling under his uncanny spell, helpless before the iron will of this man who, she knew, meant to do her harm…