Divine Evil by Nora Roberts

the pits.
    “Abaddon, the destroyer.
    “Fenriz, Son of Loki.
    “Euronymous, Prince of Death.”
    The flames rose higher. The gong echoed.
    Behind the mask, the priest's eyes glittered, reddened by the light of the flames. “I am the Sayer of the Law. Come forth, those who would learn the Law.”
    Two figures stepped forward as lightning walked across the sky.
    “We do not show our fangs to others. It is Law.” The coven repeated the words, and the bell was rung. “We do not destroy what is ours. It is Law.” The response was chanted.
    “We kill with cunning and with purpose, not with anger. It is Law.”
    “We worship the One.”
    “Satan is the One.”
    “His is the palace of Hell.”
    “Ave
, Satan.”
    “What is His, is ours.”
    “Hail to Him.”
    “He is what we are.”
    “
Ave
, Satan.”
    “We shall know, and what we know is ours. There is no path back but death.” “Blessed be.”
    The Princes of Hell were called. And smoke billowed.There was incense to clog and mystify the air. Tainted holy water in a phallic-shaped shaker was dashed around the circle to purify. The hum of voices rose into one ecstatic song.
    Again the leader raised his arms, and beneath his robe his heart gloated at the followers′ weakness for imagery. “Cast off your robes and kneel before me, for I am your priest and only through me you will reach Him.”
    The initiates cast aside their robes and knelt, sex thrusting, eyes glazed. They had waited twelve months for this night, to belong, to take, and to feast. The altar rubbed her breasts and licked her slick red lips.
    The priest, taking a candle from between the altar's thighs, circled the two, passing the flame before their eyes, their manhood, and the soles of their feet.
    “This is Satan's flame. You have walked in Hell. The Gates have been flung wide for you, and His beasts rejoice. Hell's fire will make you free. We toll the bell in His name.”
    Again the bell rang out, its tone echoing, echoing until there was no sound. All the night creatures were hidden and silent.
    “Now your path is set, and you must follow the flame or perish. The blood of those who fail is bright and will guide your steps to the power.”
    Turning, the priest reached into a silver bowl and drew out a handful of the graveyard dirt where an infant had rested for a century. He pressed the soil into the soles of the initiates′ feet, sprinkled it over their heads, laid it gently on their tongues.
    “Revel in this and stray not. You make your pact tonight with all who have gone before into His light. Seek and be glad as you obey the Law.”
    He took up a clear flask filled with holy water andurine. “Drink of this and ease the thirst. Drink deep of life so that He will shine within you.”
    Each man took the flask in turn and swallowed.
    “Arise now, Brothers, to receive His mark.”
    The men rose, and others came forward to lock the first initiate's arms and legs in place. The ceremonial knife glinted under a full ghost moon.
    “In the name of Satan, I mark you.”
    The man screamed once as the knife sliced delicately over his left testicle. Blood dripped as he wept.
    “You are His, from now and through eternity.”
    The coven chanted. “Ave, Satan.”
    The second was marked. Drugged wine was given to both.
    Their blood stained the knife as the priest lifted the blade high, swaying as he gave thanks to the Dark Lord. As the thunder rumbled closer, his voice rose to a shout.
    “Raise your right hand in the Sign and take the oath.”
    Shuddering, faces glinting with tears, the men obeyed.
    “You accept His pleasures, and His pains. You are returned from death into life by His mark. You have declared yourself a servant of Lucifer, the Bringer of Light. This act is of your own desire and by your own will.”
    “By our desire,” the men repeated, in thick, dazed voices. “By our will.”
    Taking up the sword, the priest traced an inverted pentagram in the air over each new member's