Ephus still hadn't moved, though his right hand was slightly glowing as his forehead furrowed with an unknown effort. "There I think I did it." Ephus whispered to her. "Did what?" Quinn asked. "Go invite your guests in. Everything will be fine, you'll see. I may not have a handle on all of them or even know what they all are yet but I can control a couple of them." Ephus told her as he moved off into her kitchen. Shaking her head as she moved to the front door, a sudden thought came to her.. “Why here?” he asked. “You two could’ve gone anywhere. And not have been caught.” She shut her eyes. “What’s your name?” he asked again. No answer. Stooping to her shorts, he felt around the pockets for a wallet. Nothing. Not even a cell phone. His fingers brushed the white thong lying across the crotch of the shorts. Satin. Without thinking, he held it in his hands. Soft ribbons flowed over his palms from the bows on the sides. The musky scent of her arousal breached his nostrils. He was. The church was very old, built of rough faced grey quarried marble. Although it looked small, it was roomy, with beautiful stained glass windows and plush pews.There was a marvelous pipe organ built by the Felgemaker Pipe Organ Company. Four manuals, two layer foot pedals, several side manuals and row upon row of stops. The compressor room was one of my favorite hideouts.The balcony had been the choir loft before the Great War, but the choir decided they wanted to be seen and not just heard so. Not that he particularly wanted to have an effect. It was just his way of saving face, of pretending the chord listener was not up in the belfry looking down like the Phantom of the Opera and seeing him for what he really was and for what he was really doing. And he was lying, but the chords said just get through it, you tried to explain, and explanations never get you anywhere, but stared at. You have to do it this way. You have to do it their way. That was a line from ‘I Was A Teenage.
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