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18.51% Mistress of sin / Chapter 5: 005

Chapter 5: 005

Here we are!" Zafira said.

"Here? But there's nothing here." Cole was puzzled. A concrete wall?

They were under one of Chicago's many overpasses. The traffic roar was deafening. The fetid space showed no sign that anyone had been down here for quite some time. Moldy piles of litter and debris lay scattered across the uneven ground. This looked like home-sweet-home for a troll.

Zafira gave Cole a sultry smile. "Looks can be deceiving. You should know that by now."

She placed her hand to the concrete wall. It responded vividly to her touch. Purple glyphs glowed like bright street signs and spun on the wall in a psychedelic clockwise whirl. The glyphs became a portal, a gateway, which opened to reveal a hidden room.

Without a word, Zafira stepped through the portal.

"Hey! Wait!" Cole shouted after her. He had better follow her before it closed, he thought.

Cole took a running start and jumped into the glowing wall. On the other side, he fell flat on his face. He looked up and saw he was in a large room. The roar of traffic was gone, replaced by a soft string quartet melody from an unknown source.

Cole stood and surveyed his surroundings. It was not what he had expected to see in a demon's lair. The room was clean and elegant. It was like an upscale studio apartment, aside from the lack of windows. A dignified leather couch faced a glowing fireplace. Two leather armchairs stood nearby

Across the room he saw a modern kitchen with a high quality brushed-steel appliance set: French-door refrigerator; gas range with oven and microwave; over-sized dishwasher. Shiny kitchen utensils hung over a clean granite countertop. He wondered why a demon needed a kitchen.

In the corner to his right he saw a large glassed-in shower stall with multiple shower heads. The space was large enough for a group of friendly people. In the far corner was a king-plus-size canopy bed with pink mosquito netting, perfectly made-up with a red comforter on top and large fluffy pillows.

Zafira stood on one foot in front of him. She shucked off her knee-high black boots, one at a time, and then peeled away her sheer black stockings. She slipped out of her designer leather jacket and little black cocktail dress without any regard for Cole viewing her impossibly beautiful naked body. The wings on her back folded outward and stretched the length of her couch, then relaxed behind her. Her horns were fully extended. Her tail dangled to the floor.

"Ah!" she sighed, stretching her exquisite limbs. "It's good to be home. I don't have to worry about keeping up appearances here."

Even though this was not the first time Cole had seen her naked, or even the second, he was still in awe of her. She would be the perfect model for any high-fashion magazine -- if not for her large blood-dark wings, curved rigid horns, and long black slinky tail.

"Make yourself at home," Zafira said, relaxing on the couch. She stretched her legs comfortably.

Cole decided to inspect her dwelling. He approached the refrigerator but hesitated opening it. "What do succubi drink or snack on?" Cole asked himself. He pulled the French doors open -- to find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. It was well-stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables, cases of soda in the bottom, various condiments, and even ice cream in the freezer.

"Were you expecting severed heads and leech extract in there?" Zafira asked, giggling to herself....

"Something like that," Cole admitted. He realized she was watching him.

Cole grabbed a soda from the fridge, cracked it open and continued to walk around. On most of the walls were paintings revealing a variety of lewd sex. Some paintings featured succubi while others showcased massive all-encompassing orgies. Lust, it would seem, was the general theme. One painting, however, was suspiciously out of place. It depicted a young blonde girl in a long blue dress looking over a cliff at a burning village.

"Do you like them?" Zafira asked. "I painted them myself."

"You paint?" Cole asked, visibly surprised.

"I do have hobbies, you know. I don't spend all of my time having sex and consuming souls. Just mostof my time."

Turning his head towards the room, Cole saw a small easel with a half finished painting that looked more abstract in its current form. Various brushes and several jars of paint were neatly arranged around it.

Cole did notice a few things that seemed out of place for a 'normal' living space. One wall was devoid of paintings. Instead, it was hung with all manner of cuffs, clamps, straps and a few whips. Something told Cole those were for more than decoration. He also noticed a shelf on the headboard of the bed that held a dozen or so skulls. Human skulls, to be precise. They were all clean and pristine, without any blemishes.

"Trophies," Zafira said. "Some men I couldn't bring myself to part with completely."

"Former love interests?" Cole sarcastically asked.

Zafira laughed, "Of course not! Some were celebrities. Most were important historical figures."

Cole thought about asking who exactly these skulls belonged to, but then thought it would be better not to know.

Something caught Cole's eyes toward the center of her dwelling -- some kind of pyramid-like rack made from rods of solid gold, which stood as tall as Cole's chest. Each rod bore a glowing purple glyph similar to the ones that appeared when Zafira opened the portal to her lair. A peculiar sword lay atop the rack. The blade curved like a snake slithering through grass and was made of some kind of crimson metal like frozen blood. Blue eyes glowed from the small dragon skull on its hilt. Cole walked toward the rack, curious of the sword and its strange holster.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," Zafira warned, "unless you want your soul ripped from your body."

"What is it?" Cole warily asked.

"That is Ragnarok: The Destroyer. Even beings deemed immortal or invincible cannot withstand Ragnarok's power. No one knows its origin or the purpose of its creation. All that is known is, it has a will of its own. It chooses who can wield it, and those unworthy are torn asunder."

Cole stepped back from the relic. If what Zafira said is true, then what is she doing with such a powerful weapon? If the sword found her worthy, it must be a creation of absolute evil.

She seemed to read his apprehension. "Don't worry; I don't have the strength to wield it anymore."

Cole gazed at Zafira. "You mean, you used to be more powerful than you are now?"

"In my prime, there wasn't much I wasn't capable of. Certainly more than reading minds and controlling weak willed mortals. I possess but a fraction of my former power."

"Is that why you hide from the outside world? You don't have the strength to fight back against the 'entities' you mentioned before?"

Zafira sighed. "Partially, yes. I would be no match for an angel in my current state."

Cole gave Zafira a look of surprise. "Angels? They exist?!"

Zafira rolled her eyes. "You know for a fact: demons exist. How could you not know angels were real too? Just don't go believing all that God and Satan nonsense you humans conjured up."

"I try not to make assumptions," Cole said. "Otherwise, I would think you'd have severed heads and leech extract in your fridge."

"Touché," Zafira giggled. "Crusaders, on the other hand -- them, I could take care of, if they were alone."

"What are Crusaders?" Cole asked.

"Crusaders are an order of men dedicated to the extermination of demons. Their order is as old as civilized man and is well-versed in the art of magic. They are much more secretive and reclusive than they used to be. However, you can always spot one by the small cross branded on their neck."

Small cross? Brand? Gabriel! Recognition exploded in his mind.

"I saw one yesterday!" Cole explained. "He came to my apartment asking about the night club murder. Iknewsomething was off about him. He gave me some bullshit story about..."

"I can read minds, remember?" she interrupted. "I figured one of them would be paying you a visit after that night club fiasco hit the news. This is good news for you, Cole, because we need him to find Maria's killer."

Cole looked at Zafira inquisitively. "We need him? For what?"

"Hmm, how to put this delicately? We don't needhim, per say. Rather, we need his heart."

"I'm not helping you kill people, Zafira!" Cole scolded.

"You won't have to kill anyone. However, I never said you wouldn't have to do questionable things.

You want my help, this is me helping you. One hand washes the other."....

Cole thought about it. He was okay with her killing criminals -- but a priest? That is going too far.

"Since you're busy questioning your own morality, allow me to make this easy for you. While you were spending the day trying to find an alternative to my offer, I took the liberty of doing a little memory spying on Gabriel. Turns out, Mr. Holy Man has an affinity for young girls. Too-young girls, if you catch my drift."

"A corrupt soul..."

"That's right! It's a win-win for us both. All I need you to do is lure him to my lair. I will handle the rest."

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan. Go ahead and tell him it's a trap for all I care. He will suspect as much anyway. I just need to get him to part with the prayer beads that hang around his neck. They are the source of a Crusader's magical power. Remove the beads, and they are powerless."

Doesn't sound too hard. "All right, I'll do it. I'll call him tomorrow and tell him to come to my apartment. Then I'll show him where your lair is."

Zafira rose from the couch, "Now that our plan is in order, I need to take a much needed shower. I'm still sweaty and dirty from tonight's dinner."

She walked to her large shower stall. Cole's eyes were affixed to her backside, staring at her perfect ass -- and the tail that swayed with every step.

Both shower heads sprung to life when Zafira turned on the water. One sprayed down her back while the other wetly massaged her front. It was apparent why her shower was so big: her wings would not fit in a normal shower. No shower curtains or door were apparent; Zafira soaked her body out in the open without a care.

Cole watched on from the couch. He definitely enjoyed the unintentional show Zafira put on. Or was it so inadvertent?

She lathered-up a loofa and vigorously scrubbed her arms and neck. Water and suds cascaded through the valley of her pert breasts, past her flat stomach, and in torrents between her lithe legs. She massaged her soapy breasts; nipples protruded from the bubbles like flashing beads.

Bracing her foot on a ledge, Zafira scrubbed her legs one at a time, and then turned her ass in Cole's direction. Suds flowed from her loofa as she rubbed the small of her back just above her tail. Then she grabbed her tail with one hand and stroked it with her soapy other hand.

Zafira returned to her efforts. She extended her wings and tried to reach behind herself but could not quite catch the top of the saurian limb stretching from her back. Zafira struggled several times before Cole's voice caught her off guard.

"Do you need a hand?" he offered.

"No!" she grumbled, still struggling.

Cole walked over to the shower, pulling the loofa from Zafira's hand.

"Here, allow me."

Zafira was irritated but did not decline Cole's offer. He stretched to the top of her wings and lightly scrubbed them. The water spraying on her wings sounded like raindrops hitting an umbrella.

After lathering her wings, Cole returned the loofa and used his hands. The wings were smooth like leather to the touch. Zafira mewled as he rubbed the soapy lather all across both wings and traced his fingers down her phalanges. She jerked when he tried to rub the base of her wings at her shoulders.

"That tickles!"

"Sorry."

Cole rubbed up and down her back. He stopped to massage her shoulders. A mist of water bounced from Zafira's body and drenched Cole's clothes. He did not mind.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," Zafira purred.

"I used to wash Maria's back like this every day when we showered together. I always loved the way the water ran down her back, how her fresh wet hair smelled, how her skin got goosebumps if I got too close to her ribs." He backed off, realizing his mind had wandered. "Sorry."

Cole jumped slightly as Zafira's tail wrapped around his back, stopping his retreat. It squeezed him ever so slightly like a gentle hug.

"She was a beautiful woman," Zafira said.

"Yes, she was."

There was a dead silence for a while. Cole focused his thoughts on washing Zafira rather than dwell on how much he missed Maria. She stood quietly, enjoying the sensation.

"Can I ask you something?" Zafira said.

"Sure."

"Do you think I'm repulsive?"

Cole's hands stopped. "Why do you ask? You would just read my mind anyway."

"I'd much rather hear your answer, whatever it may be. Just be honest."

Cole paused for a moment, and then went back to washing Zafira's back. "You're beautiful. Just... different."

When Cole finished her back, Zafira turned around. She had a very genuine smile. "Thank you, Cole."

"You're welcome." Cole smiled back at her.

"We'll find out who killed Maria, I promise. I just need you to trust me, okay?"

Cole nodded his head in agreement.

"Its late, and you need your rest for tomorrow. I can send you home."

"Send me home?" Cole inquired.

Zafira stepped out of the shower, not bothering to dry off, and walked to the wall where they had entered. She placed her hand to the wall and the portal appeared again -- only this time, Cole could see his living room on the other side.

Zafira gave Cole a little kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Cole."

"Good night, Zafira."

Cole stepped through the portal and was standing in his own living room. The portal behind him vanished without a trace.

"Well, that's convenient."

Tired, Cole quickly turned towards the bedroom. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, full of uncertainty.

*****


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