Trenchcoat and Spellbook?

[dryfter]

Why did it have to be such a shitty day out?

Thin fingers pulled the fedora a little tighter over his brow. An annoying whistling coming to his left. While he was miserable, at least it was nice to see his partner was enjoying herself. He, on the other hand, could only hope that their car was out of the repair shop soon. He hadn't counted on encountering a golem on that last case....

Of course, not all the whistles were hers. Most of them weren't. She had of course worn white on purpose today, knowing full well that the thin fabric would go translucent in the rain, completely unabashed in showing off her sexy red lingerie that she wore underneath. More than one sudden admirer had a kiss and a wink blown their way. More than one accident could be heard behind them as men and women alike rubbernecked to get a glimpse of her.

The office couldn't be reached soon enough. And yet, here he was, reaching for the keys as the leaky rain gutter managed to somehow drip right down the collar of his trenchcoat making him even colder. He could hear her giggle from behind him, well in tune to his emotions.....his discomfort increasingly amusing to her no doubt.

"Let's get to work, Annalise."

She slid past him with a twirl, winking saucily at him as her moist breasts pressed hard against his chest suddenly, her arms reaching up to enfold her arms around his neck. Her perfect blonde hair wavy and beautiful despite the downpour she had walked through. Clearly her clothes were expendable, but her hair was not. Even now, as he watched, her lips parted as she rose on her tiptoes to kiss him.....

"I said its time to work, not feed."

His beautiful assistant pulled away from him as suddenly as she had come on to him, pouting as she did all too often at him with those full red lips of hers.

"You're such a buzzkill in the morning, Lucas."

This was his life. A thorn under the skin of humanity. And yet humanity itself had no idea what writhed beneath its flesh. Myths were just that.....myths.....and should remain as such to the ignorant. But not to him. He knew better. He knew there were things that went bump in the night, and so much worse.

And when those things lost control and caused trouble....it was his job to end that trouble. Even if it meant ending them. And yet, find a way to do so that the paranormal would never come to light of the every day public. Just what would happen if people were to ever find out that demons, vampires....werewolves and goblins.....really did exist? And those were just the tip of the iceberg.

"You can rest a little bit can't you, Lucas? I mean....we did bag that banshee last week. That was good money....I think you should take us both out to dinner!"

A soft smirk. He wasn't a normal detective, and Annalise.....was most definitely not a normal assistant.

"You know I have studying to do, Annalise. And you never know when the next call might come in, the next customer walk through that door. You want dinner, fine....I'll make sure you're well fed when office hours are over. And we both know you don't want food anyway."

That brought about a little smile, the sexy little blonde leaning far over his desk to peer into his eyes, not missing how his own drifted just a little towards her burgeoning cleavage. She had left those two buttons undone on purpose.....just....for him.

Annalise was a succubus. One he had brought to this world almost a decade ago to assist him. A warlock was nothing without a familiar after all....and she had proven herself a quite capable one.

"How many left, Annalise?"

A soft chuckle was her only response initially, "You're still worried about that? You shouldn't be. You're making wonderful time, little mortal Lucas. You've only forty three more to go. Are you worried you're going to die any time soon?"

Forty three more. He shivered softly and tore his gaze from the valley of her breasts. Reaching for his cap, he hung it on an old fashioned rack before shrugging his thin frame out of his trenchcoat. A simple baby blue button down shirt and black slacks belted to his willow thin frame provided nothing out of the ordinary to the casual onlooker. Nothing like the large and dusty tome half opened on his expansive desk did.

Souls. That was what she wanted, and what she craved. And when he died, she would have his. That was....if he failed to find and feed her a hundred others in exchange for his own. And yet, he wouldn't doom innocents. So that left the not so innocent.....

And Annalise did so enjoy the taste of the paranormal.....of the immortal souls that sometimes came her way. Almost as much as she enjoyed teasing him, and yes, cavorting in his bed. She was contractually bound to not take enough from him to kill.....but that didn't mean she couldn't have a taste......

And apparently the arcane tasted good.

She humphed softly and bustled off to find work of her own to at least keep her busy in her eternal state of near boredom as he settled himself down into his leather backed office chair and began to study the glyphs and runes the pages held. She had long ago ceased trying to read them, or even understand them. As long as he could bring his power about when they needed it, that was all she cared about. And if he couldn't, he would die and she'd be free anyway. The thought churned in his stomach.

Forty three more.

Thin fingers raked through his ginger hair. Most expected a warlock to be all dark and goth, with baleful eyes and a bad temperment. Maybe that was why few even saw Lucas coming. His bright orange hair, his dancing emerald eyes. None would suspect him of being anything less than a normal human being in his twenties......

At least until he removed the glove on his right hand, and they saw the demonic mark he had carved into it himself.......the symbol of their pact. Imps and mephits were easily bound.....but stronger demons like succubae.....took a little more from their "master."

For hours he sat there, blissfully undisturbed, moving from one page to another....selecting and memorizing the spells he had lost from the previous case. One could rarely tell when skills would be needed again. At least Annalise understood that much.....

Just as the soft creak of his office door did as well.....the rain sharper in its clarity as a figure stepped inside......

 

[dryfter]

*tentative bump*

 

[DarkWarrioress]

A brief knock on the door to forewarn those within that someone was about to disturb them. She opened the door and stepped inside, the umbrella she held obscuring her from sight. The door was hastily closed as she remembered her mama’s teachings. No open umbrellas in the house. It brings bad luck. Just inside the door she set the umbrella against the wall. Her overcoat dripped rain on the floor.

Mirela Karoli stood there, her eyes taking in the man behind the desk. Somehow, she thought he’d be older. Now she was wondering if he could help her at all.

“Mr. Viernes?”

She stepped forward with a brisk step, her right hand held out.

“My name is Mirela. Mirela Karoli. A friend of mine said I should seek you out. He said maybe you could help me.”

Mirela was five foot five with long brown hair and exotic looks. She was Romy or perhaps what most people called a gypsy. There was a troubled look embedded in her soft brown eyes. Shadows underlined them as if she had not slept in a long time or at the very least, not well. She was a seventh generation Romy but she was a thoroughly modern girl. Many things had been passed down to her but she always discounted the stories, the superstitions. Until a month ago and even then, she kept thinking up excuses for the things that kept happening to and in her small shop. Last night though, now that, that had been the last straw. The straw that broke the camel’s back so to speak.

She had dismissed the things falling from shelves and crashing to floor. Small tremors in the earth, she told herself. Whisperings she thought she could barely hear in her ear, were figments of a tired and hassled mind. Cold brushes of air across her body as she stood behind a counter ringing up a sale, she chalked up to a breeze coming through the cracks of the old shop. But last night, what happened then, she could not account for and it had frightened her.

One of her customers, an old gentleman by the name of Mr. Riley O’Rourke, who came in every week or so to buy some of her teas, found her in tears. It had been a weak moment for Mirela. He had caught her unaware. When he had asked her what was wrong, she was hesitant to tell him. Who in their right mind would believe her? But Mr. O’Rourke had. He had written down this address and urged her to go see this Lucas person. Mirela was skeptical but what could it hurt, eh? She was slowly going out of her mind. This was like something out of her great grandmother’s folk book. Surely things like this were not real? Yet, here she stood, in front of a young man with the brightest orange hair she had ever seen and a magnificent set emerald green eyes.

 

[dryfter]

“Mr. Viernes?”

He had barely registered the voice. Though he had. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why Annalise hadn't intercepted their visitor, even as he let go with a soft sigh, his fingers bring to a close the thick and dusty tome he had been poring over.

"Yes. That's me. I apologize for you having to find your way here on your own. Usually my assistant is more alert than she appears to be today. How can I help you?"

Lucas let her take her time sizing him up, not entirely surprised when he didn't seem to meet her expectations. He wasn't much to look at after all, not a templar or a knight fairly bulging with muscles. Book study was more his thing.....and it had left him as weak limbed and nerdy as a man could get, though perhaps more intelligent.

"Annalise!"

A blond head appeared in the doorway beneath his new guest, the succubus' gaze drifting in surprise for a moment from Lucas to their new arrival. Swiftly, the demoness swallowed the remainder of the pocky that had been dangling from her pouty lips.

"A guest! I'm so sorry, Lucas, between the cupboards and the coffee maker...."

"Shut the TV off."

She fell silent, hesitating for a moment as if she didn't hear him correctly.

"I said shut the TV off. We both know you finished your chores an hour ago."

Grimacing, the blonde beauty nodded, disappearing for a moment and allowing the warlock to size up his beautiful now potential client.

"Forgive me. Annalise usually greets new guests, but she has a flair for early morning soap operas. Have a seat."

He had even went so far as to move out from around his sturdy oaken desk and pull the chair aside for her himself, waiting patiently until her laurels settled and she was comfortable enough for further conversation.

"Now then....what seems to be your problem, Miss? Leprechauns digging up your garden? Sprites and fairies teasing your family pets? Or perhaps you've got a boggart living in your closet?"

He wasn't making fun of her in the least, he simply didn't expect a large case, certainly not after the last one. Banshee were hard to deal with.....especially with that particularly undead being almost exclusively female. The fact that they were undead had been bad enough......Annalise had been almost useless.....

"That's what most people would call a "boogyman."

And yet as he delivered the "punchline", it lost any semblance of humor with the seriousness he had ingrained in his voice, his stare piercing.

"Any way you look at it, you've most likely come to the right place. So let's hear what you have to say, and from there I can tell you if I can help you or not."

At least she was cute. Still, he knew better than to let his emotions get the best of him.....especially ones his succubus could manipulate. He could feel, more than see, Annalise smirk in his direction from where she stood. She knew......

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She stood outside the shop on the corner, staring at it with a gleam of satisfaction and anticipation in her eyes. The collar of her coat turned up against the nip in the morning air, hands shoved into the front pockets of her jeans. She had done it. Mirela had just signed the five year lease on this place and for all intents and purposes, it was hers. Her mind envisioned how it would look by the time she got done with it. The rounded windows would hold shelves of colored glass jars, enticing people to come inside to see what other wonders lie within.

Slender legs wrapped in dark blue denim and feet encased in a pair of tennis shoes, moved forward to the front door with a window. Slender fingers dug down into a pocket, wrapping around the keys that would unlock her future. The hesitation was momentary. Her stomach lurched before it calmed. She was going to be fine. She could do this. A key inserted into a lock, turned and a door pushed open. She was greeted with the stale air of a place never opened some time. Brown eyes took stock of the interior. Dust, dirt and cobwebs from neglect and non-occupancy were everywhere. Her lips turned up in gratification as she saw the rows and rows of shelves that lined the walls. Her mind started to churn with renovation ideas. Nothing large. There wasn’t much she wanted to change about this quaint little shop. Mirela still couldn’t understand how she had gotten this place for a song. It was just too precious.

She left footprints on the floor or rather, in the dust, on the floor as she moved toward the back of the shop. Here, there was another door. She turned the handle and opened it, stepping into a slightly smaller room beyond. This, would be her living quarters. A small efficient kitchen melded into what would be a cozy livingroom area. Off of the kitchen was another door. Her bathroom, she knew. On the other side was another door that would lead her to an even smaller room that would become her bedroom. Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. Time to get to work. Retracing her steps, she went back into her shop, shrugging off her coat and rolling up the sleeves of her red and black plaid shirt that was untucked. Her fingers nimbly contained her hair into a ponytail before she headed out the door to her car, retrieving the cleaning supplies she had brought with her.

Two months later the shop was open. The small bell on the door was constantly ringing from the door being opened and closed in what seemed like a continual manner. Behind the counter stood a small rather rotund lady with rosy cheeks ringing up sales, Jenny, the assistant she had hired to help run this place. One side of the shop smelled of citrus. Clean. Crisp. Sharp. It melded over to the other side, which smelled of lavender and eucalyptus, a more relaxing, mellow atmosphere. All of that blended into a softly evasive smell of tea and coffee which came from a back corner which was littered with a few white wrought iron white chairs and tables. Floral cushions resting on the chair seats.

It was a year into business. Business was steady. Profits were good. Mirela couldn’t be happier. At first it was small things. Jars moved across the room and sitting haphazardly on shelves they didn’t belong on. Small things that disappeared and couldn’t be found only to turn up a week or two later somewhere else. Then came the noises. As she laid in bed at night, she would awaken by what sounded like someone walking in her shop. A cold chill would slide down her spine but she would slip from bed, a flashlight gripped in her hand and go check it out. Nothing. Not even a sign of anyone having been there. Mirela chalked it up to her over active imagination.

Things would settle down for a week or two and then start up again. She would come out to find a teacup on a table as if someone had just had a cuppa. It was disconcerting. But she had no idea how much so until about a month ago. That’s when she started hearing whispers in her ear as if someone were standing behind her. She could never quite make out the words but someone was definitely talking. Cold air would brush over her arms or slide down her spine. Mirela sometimes felt as if someone was pressing against her back. There was a time or two, when she was up on a ladder, retrieving something from an upper shelf and she could have sworn someone had a hand on her ass. Of course, no one was there. She felt a presence, that was the only way to describe it. It made her feel like a loose nut on a funny farm. Things like that didn’t really exist, right? What had started out as an invasion of her shop had now run over into her private quarters. Unseen fingertips picking up a lock of her hair and dropping it. A slight tug of her bedcovers when she slept. The feeling that someone was pressing against her back and breathing on her skin. These were things she couldn’t deny any longer and she needed help to figure out what was going on and to get rid of it, once and for all.

"Any way you look at it, you've most likely come to the right place. So let's hear what you have to say, and from there I can tell you if I can help you or not."

She came back to the present with a start, catching his last words. Her eyes focusing on the man before her, staring at her with a piercing look that seemed to reach into her core and hold her captive.

“I think this is something beyond a leprechaun or a boggart, Mr. Viernes.”

She allowed her discomfort and apprehension to shine through her eyes. It warred with the soft gentle even tone in her voice as she went on to explain everything that had happened to her since opening her small store. Her hands rested, clasped together in her lap. The only other sign of her agitation was how tightly she clasped them together. When her narration came to stop, she simply asked.

“So, what do you think I’m dealing with here and more importantly, can you help me?”

 

[dryfter]

Lucas sat back in his chair, his fingers threaded together across his chest in a most business like manner as he patiently waited for his new client to tell her tale. There wasn't much at all he missed, not even when Annalise crept silently into the room to place a steaming cup of coffee in front of the stormy eyed woman who barely even glanced at her when the action was finally noticed.

“So, what do you think I’m dealing with here and more importantly, can you help me?”

"Poltergeist?"

The first words spoken were soft, questioning, with a hint of disgust as well as the allure of husky, lustful feminism. Lucas shrugged softly, noting the succubi's arm resting innocently across the back of the new woman's chair. No, not "new woman", she had introduced herself. Mirela. Mirela Koroli.

"Perhaps. I'm leaning towards it. Especially towards the end of the story where you said your entity was becoming quite.....amorous towards you. If this was a case of demonic residence, you'd have experienced a most different atmosphere. Probably would have the feeling of being unwelcome from the moment you opened the door to your new shop. From there it would have gotten worse."

A soft smile creased his young face as he dared to look her directly in the eye.

"I'm not saying that your case hasn't gotten worse, Miss Mirela. I just think that if it is a poltergeist, its taken a liking to you. That's much better than having it angry at you having invaded its personal living space....but then again, I can't imagine you being comfortable with the liberties its taking with you and your shop. Sadly, the more it realizes you can't do anything about it, the more liberties its likely to take."

Lucas raised a finger, a little presumptuously, before continuing on....suddenly in an almost monotone drone that sounded more like a college professor lecturing than the detective he was.

"A poltergeist is an undead creature, a soul who failed to pass on after death. In most occurrences this otherworldly being is anchored to the mortal realm by its own rage stemming from the manner it died usually. They're identified by their unique kinetic ability, namely, their ability to move things around even though they have no physical body anymore."

A thin hand began sliding towards the lone fixture on his desk that wasn't his dusty old spellbook......his phone.

"Unfortunately that ability can be quite strong, and quite dangerous. Its unusual to hear of a happy poltergeist, or perhaps in this case a perverted one. Still, I can help you, though I might have to call in a marker from a friend. Exorcisms aren't my specialty you see."

"Ghosts aren't very fun at all. I'm almost useless against them."

Lucas chuckled softly, "You'll be coming too, Annalise. And you know full well its not a ghost, if it were, it would have tried to possess her by now, or at least manifest itself in some way."

His assistant sighed softly, this was no surprise to her. "You'll need me to make sure that it isn't a demonic influence after all. Don't worry....Master.....I know the drill."

The warlock frowned as he glanced at his new client, noting her reaction to the not so veiled dropping of his title. It was always nice to see Annalise up to her tricks of trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible again. But for now, all was forgotten as he heard a soft click in his ear.....

"Hello? This is Lucas Viernes. I'd like to speak to Father Corcoran please."

A few minutes of terse banter, mostly consisting of him repeating her story over the line, and the call ended with a soft smile and a satisfied nod. Finally, he could turn his full attention back to his beautiful guest.

"Father Michael Corcoran. An Irish Roman Catholic priest, one I've worked with many a time and one of the best exorcists on the planet. Very militant too. I'm going to warn you....I'm not sure what image of a priest you have up there in your head, but he's unlikely to fit it."

His smile only widened, a hundred thoughts churning through his sharp mind now that he was on a case again. He would be ready......but there were still some loose ends to tie up. He wasn't about to be surprised.....not if he could help it.

"You'll be glad to know that the good Father is extremely zealous about doing his Lord's work. In fact, I'll be surprised if he charges you at all for the exorcism. However, donations to the Catholic church taken on his behalf are always very welcome. And that brings us to my fee."

"Oh, I can think of a few things you could do with her. Can I watch? Maybe even play too?"

"Shut up, Annalise."

"Yes...Master."

The arm hadn't moved from the back of Mirela's chair, and the mischievous smile painted across those full lips of hers only seemed to get wider the more opportunities she found to tease him.

"This seems to be a relatively small case, and I won't be doing much of the work unless things get really ugly or something goes awry.....which is exactly why I'm coming along. There's always the chance that its something other than a poltergeist, and I'm not about to sell Corcoran up the river without a paddle. The bill will be two hundred dollars for a show up fee. I'm assuming as a small business owner, that's affordable?"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

The woman that Lucas Viernes called Annalise was stunning. Mirela wasn’t drawn to women, but this one, there was something about her. The woman brought her a cup of coffee, which was greatly appreciated, especially given the weather outside today.

Mirela frowned. A poltergeist? She didn’t know much about them but she hardly gave credit to anything paranormal anyway, at least, until recently. She certainly couldn’t decipher what the heck was happening in her store. The woman named Annalise stood behind the chair Mirela was sitting in.

"Perhaps. I'm leaning towards it. Especially towards the end of the story where you said your entity was becoming quite.....amorous towards you. If this was a case of demonic residence, you'd have experienced a most different atmosphere. Probably would have the feeling of being unwelcome from the moment you opened the door to your new shop. From there it would have gotten worse."

Mirela nodded, cradling the mug in her cold hands.

“Yes. Exactly. Right now it seems to be focusing on getting my attention for some reason and the fact that it has turned into amorous attention, is well, disturbing.”

More liberties? Her eyes widened. What kind of liberties? She was about to ask when he addressed Annalise. She heard the woman’s voice from somewhere over her shoulder. Mirela’s shoulders hunched as a shiver ran down her spine. Given when she had been experiencing, she wasn’t comfortable having someone behind her. She didn’t want to be rude, but she was about to say something when Annalise spoke.

"You'll need me to make sure that it isn't a demonic influence after all. Don't worry....Master.....I know the drill."

Master? Her eyebrow lifted just a smidge at that. Oh ho. Did these two have that kind of relationship? Not that it was any of her business, but he hardly looked the dominate type. Mirela glanced down into her cup as Lucas began speaking into the phone. She looked up again as Mr. Viernes hung up his phone and began speaking to her again. Or rather, to her and to the sexpot behind her.

"This seems to be a relatively small case, and I won't be doing much of the work unless things get really ugly or something goes awry.....which is exactly why I'm coming along. There's always the chance that its something other than a poltergeist, and I'm not about to sell Corcoran up the river without a paddle. The bill will be two hundred dollars for a show up fee. I'm assuming as a small business owner, that's affordable?"

Mirela took another sip from the coffee mug.

“That’s very affordable, Mr. Viernes but I have a question for you. I’m not Catholic. Is that going to be a hindering problem for the good father? My parents are of course, in some odd way after all these years I still can’t figure out, but I’m not.”

It was still baffling after all these years. The Romy were known to be Catholics. Yet, they believed in curses, counter curses, charms and a host of other things that would make a Catholic, outside of the family, cringe. Mirela never could wrap her head around it. Gypsy she might be, but she didn’t believe in their ways nor did she follow the path of the Mother Church. Before Mr. Viernes could answer her, she further plucked up her courage to say, without turning around.

“Annalise? Would you please not stand behind me. With everything that has happened to me lately, you standing back there makes me uncomfortable. I don’t mean to be rude.”

 

[dryfter]

“Annalise? Would you please not stand behind me. With everything that has happened to me lately, you standing back there makes me uncomfortable. I don’t mean to be rude.”

"Are you sure its what you've been through that's made you uncomfortable?"

Soft, feminine, and completely curious....the words spilled from her lips even as she moved graciously to the fore where their guest could watch her as well. It was never wise to turn one's back on a demon, and the wise, the powerful, and the intuitive always knew better. The question was.....which one was Mirela? She would bear a new level of scrutiny now, that was for sure.

"Perhaps its best if you asked him yourself. I did warn you he's not likely to fit your personal image of a priest."

The soft spoken words of the man behind the desk brought the attention back to where it was supposed to be. A soft smile played out across those folded fingers of his. He was curious too. Not many had such an immediate reaction to Annalise. She was no normal woman.....but did she know that?

His defensive mind cried yes, and formulated a plan should she suddenly attack.....but the more rational part of his mind told him no. That made her an enigma for now.....but one he could hopefully solve without too much digging.

"As I said earlier, Miss Mirela. I have some loose ends to tie up, to be sure of, if you will. For starters, are you sure that this entity is tied to the store or shop you recently purchased? It hasn't been following you, nor given you any indication of its presence prior to your purchase? I'd like to know in detail if you've come into contact with any strange or dubious items, as well as any curses you might know."

"She's not cursed. I can tell you that much, hell, you know that much Lucas."

The warlock nodded silently, watching his guest try to follow the conversation.

"But her shop might be. Or perhaps an item in her possession."

"You think too much.....let's conduct the exorcism, and then if the problem persists we'll know its something else."

A soft chuckle echoed through the room, just a hint of dread creeping into his somber voice as Lucas swept his emerald eyes over first Annalise....and then Mirela....

"Ah, yes....I suppose that is the course of action. Yet you know how....aggravated Father Corcoran gets if he thinks his prey is getting the best of him."

For the first time, Annalise frowned. Full and pouty lips arching slightly in an almost unbearably sexy show of frustrated displeasure.

"Its bad enough that I have to be there.....again. You know he hates me."

"Then keep a low profile. I know you're terrible at it, especially where men are involved.....holy men no less. Just try and remember what happened to you the last time you tried to seduce him, that should do the trick."

That did it. A full bodied shudder, and a split second look of terror, loathing, and open hatred. Most unbecoming for a woman who deigned to look like a mortal goddess.

"Ah, I do believe you deserved that mental image. Even if our guest so graciously ignored your suggestion of having a threesome as means to pay us."

Another cold chuckle, his full attention now back on the lovely gypsy.

"Forgive me, Miss Mirela. The good Father should arrive well within the hour, so you're welcome to wait here if you'd like, or you can return to your shop and we'll meet you at the time of your choosing. I would recommend taking action soon however, especially if the being you're dealing with has any inkling that you came to see me or that we have plans regarding its.....occupancy. I'd hate for such a perverted spirit to abandon its perversions and simply turn hostile towards you."

Lucas rose, his thin frame towering over the desk as he circled around it towards her, ultimately offering her a dark gloved hand to help her rise as well.

"I should say though. You're taking this well. You've just been told a dead person's spirit might be cavorting about your shop. You've not gone through the usual stages of questioning or denial that most of my customers have when they come here. Well....at least the normal, human ones."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

"Are you sure its what you've been through that's made you uncomfortable?"

The soft voice made Mirela frown. What could the woman possibly mean by that? Still, Mirela sighed softly in relief as the woman moved so that she was no longer behind Mirela’s back. Dark brown eyes studied the beautiful woman in front of her a moment before they shifted back to her host with his words.

"Perhaps its best if you asked him yourself. I did warn you he's not likely to fit your personal image of a priest."

Mirela shrugged. What could he possibly look like? Two heads perhaps? Three eyes? She grinned at her own folly.

“A man of the cloth is a man of the cloth, is he not?”

They all believed in God and their Book. They had their rules and principles within the limits of the Church, although, she could safely say, she had run into a couple of them that were, well, unorthodox to say the least. She would reserve judgment until she actually met this Father Corcoran. She did wonder with a bit of trepidation about Mr. Viernes’ words of description. Very militant. Extremely zealous. However, if this Father Corcoran could convince her guest to leave, she’d be more than happy to make a donation to the Church on his behalf.

"As I said earlier, Miss Mirela. I have some loose ends to tie up, to be sure of, if you will. For starters, are you sure that this entity is tied to the store or shop you recently purchased? It hasn't been following you, nor given you any indication of its presence prior to your purchase? I'd like to know in detail if you've come into contact with any strange or dubious items, as well as any curses you might know."

His words brought her attention back to the moment. Mirela frowned in concentration.

“If this entity has been following me around, it has been extremely quiet and unassuming all these years. Is that at all possible? My life, until I signed the lease on the shop and it made itself known, has been rather dull, I’m afraid. I suppose it is entirely possible that it came with something I bought, but I wouldn’t have a clue what that could possibly be. My little shop has many items and some of the furnishings and decorations I use were passed down to me through my mother who got them from her mother.”

She shook her head.

“Nothing I know of is cursed and I personally do not believe in that stuff. A mind is a very powerful thing as you well know, Mr. Viernes. One’s reality is dictated by it. Even if someone had cursed an item, I’d have to believe in that curse for it to do its job.”

Again, Mirela drew quiet and listened to the two converse. More and more, she was becoming convinced that there was something not quite normal about these two.

“…….. Just try and remember what happened to you the last time you tried to seduce him, that should do the trick."

What? She blinked. Her eyes widened slightly. Had she heard correctly? Why would Annalise try to seduce a man of the cloth? And why had her reaction to Viernes’ words been so strong and horrifying?

"Ah, I do believe you deserved that mental image. Even if our guest so graciously ignored your suggestion of having a threesome as means to pay us."

Mirela’s eyes darted between the two, going even wider. Say what now? Had she missed something? Had Annalise actually suggested such a thing? Dear lord, just what kind of people had the kindly Mr. O’Rourke sent her to? Before she could say something, anything, Mr. Viernes was speaking again. She forced her mind to concentrate.

"Forgive me, Miss Mirela. The good Father should arrive well within the hour, so you're welcome to wait here if you'd like, or you can return to your shop and we'll meet you at the time of your choosing. I would recommend taking action soon however, especially if the being you're dealing with has any inkling that you came to see me or that we have plans regarding its.....occupancy. I'd hate for such a perverted spirit to abandon its perversions and simply turn hostile towards you."

She leaned forward to set her mug on the desk top, right beside Annalise.

“I believe I’ll head home then. I’ll wait for you all there. No sense in sitting around here just waiting. I’m sure you can better use the time for something else than entertaining a guest or rather, a client.”

Her eyes briefly turned to the books on his desk then back to his face. He was getting up and coming around his desk. He held out a gloved hand. How odd. That. Still, she slipped her own into it as he helped her up from her chair. She had the sudden urge to jerk her hand free. It felt like a tingle of electricity flowed from his hand into hers.

"I should say though. You're taking this well. You've just been told a dead person's spirit might be cavorting about your shop. You've not gone through the usual stages of questioning or denial that most of my customers have when they come here. Well....at least the normal, human ones."

She withdrew her hand quietly, shoving it into her coat pocket.

“I think I’m still in shock and I never considered myself to be anything normal, Mr. Viernes. I’ll see you both and Father Corcoran in about an hour then.”

She fished out a small white business card and held it out to him.

“My card. I’ll see myself out and thank you, for listening and your help.”

She inclined her head slightly in Annalise’s direction, gave her host a small smile, then turned and headed for the door. She couldn’t get out of that office fast enough and once again, she wondered what she was letting herself in for and just who or what those two were. If she didn’t know better, she would have said, nothing human but that wasn’t possible, not in this day and age, was it?

 

[dryfter]

The warlock and the succubus both watched in silence as Mirela departed. Lucas noted the slight hurry to her steps as he moved back out into the rain as if it were more of a comfortable place to be than the warm and dry office she had just left.

Not an unexpected response.

"He's really coming.....again.....?"

Lucas nodded, "So you'll have to be on your best behavior or our client will become suspicious....well....more so than she might already be now."

He moved slowly back to the head of his desk before settling his gaunt frame back into his comfortable chair. Absently, Lucas flipped open the tome, its pages unfurling on its own to the exact spot he had been at the moment he had been interrupted.

"I hate that priest."

A soft chuckle, and a smile, as he reached out instinctively to accept the delicate cup of herbal tea she had brought him. Already its aroma had begun to soothe his senses. This was one of his favorites.....imported directly from Japan.....and she had done well to brew him a morning cup without him actually having to order her too. It wouldn't be forgotten.....

"You just hate the thought of seeing a holy man you've not yet been able to corrupt. Just imagine how he thinks, seeing a demoness he's not allowed to send screaming back to Hell. I dare say that he hates you too."

The two of them fell silent.....the warlock in his incessant studying......and her in her angered pout, stalking off to find something else to at least busy herself with. Soaps.....wonderful soaps.....that would cure her of her malaise.

-----------------------------------------------------

Two heavy footsteps alerted him to the arrival of their newest guest. This time the door had been closed softly, and not allowed to slam in the slightest. If it weren't for the man's iron shod boots, Lucas might not have detected him. That was....if the warlock didn't already have the innate ability to sense something as devoutly holy as what radiated off of Father Corcoran.

"Well well....dinnae think ye'd be callin again so soon. Again, I gotta hand it ta ye, Viernes......its been a grand decision lettin ye and yer daemon run free all this time."

Robe and collar were present.....if one looked hard enough to see it beneath the instruments of destruction the good Father carried on his person. A bandolier with stakes, a flask that Lucas knew for a fact carried a good deal of holy water blessed by the Father himself, dangled at his hip. A large, ornate, and rather gaudy crucifix dangled over it all to hover dead center of the man's massive chest. A little grey in otherwise blonde hair was the only sign that age might finally be creeping up on the man.

"You didn't let me run free, Michael. You had second thoughts after I disintegrated your best crossbow. Which brings to mind......are you enjoying your replacement?"

The man's grin flashed wide and perfect, a sparkling row of teeth as he reached over a shoulder to pat the missile thrower strapped to his back and nodded, not taking Lucas' slight as an insult in the least.

"Annalise will be accompanying us of course."

The man's good humor disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Nae why'd ye hafta say somethin like that. Leave yer unholy dog at home fer once. Ain't it bad enough that ye sold yer soul ta her? Twas God's soul ta begin with, weren't yers ta give away! Ye know she's not got your best interest at heart, lad!"

"She uses me, and I use her. She's a tool, and a weapon......like the many you carry, even the ones you haven't shown me yet. I don't ask you to leave a weapon behind, kindly don't ask it of me just because you don't have a liking for my weapon of choice."

The priest growled, a gauntleted hand reaching up to stroke the half grown stubble across his broad chin.

"Besides....I already told her that if she wants another shot at you, you could....and would.....smite her again."

That brought the humor back.

----------------------------------------------------------

It occurred to him as they began their walk.....neither of them having much affinity for taking a taxi.....Annalise more than content to cause more accidents as her office....attire.....quickly soaked through once more. Happy even, as her provocative state proved more than unsettling for the staunch Corcoran. He had told Mirela that he was Irish Roman Catholic, hadn't deigned to let slip that he was actually Irish....and not just affiliated with the religion. Not that it mattered.....she had seemed an intelligent woman, quite appealing to him for that very reason......and not to mention she was insanely attractive. That dark hair.....those stormy eyes.....and he had many a chance to glance surreptitiously at her figure as well, though the thankfully didn't flaunt it as openly as his......pet.....did.

She would be able to keep up with the quick rate in which the brogue rolled off Corcoran's thick tongue. He somehow knew she wasn't about to be left behind by something that simple.

"So its a ghostie then?"

A simple nod was all the response the man needed. By the gods, holy and otherwise, how could a man get this excited over something? Even as Lucas risked another sidelong glance, he never failed to be completely creeped out by that huge grin, made worse by the almost maniacal look in the priest's icy blue eyes........a predator on the hunt.

"D'you suppose it'll put up a fight?"

For a moment, the warlock wondered if the Father beside him was actually hoping for just such a scenario.

"You'll have to ask it yourself. We're here."

------------------------------------------------------------

The bell just above the door jingled softly. He hadn't bothered to knock. At least she hadn't bothered to open just yet.

"Nothing."

The soft whisper came from Annalise, but it was Michael who nodded.

"Nae daemons then? Gotta say that's a mite disappointin'."

And then introductions were made.....though definitely not the normal way......with Father Michael Corcoran sinking to a knee before the lovely shop owner and taking a hand unbidden to his lips.

"Father Michael Corcoran, lass......tis a pleasure ta meet ye, and a finer pleasure ta serve. If'n yer troubled by an errant ghostie, rest assured the Lord's light'll put the poor soul ta rest fer ye."

The priest might have missed Lucas' frown of disapproval, but Annalise hadn't.....furthermore, he knew he would have much torment ahead of him when they returned to the office yet again.....there wasn't much he could hide from his servant, not with the bond they shared.

She knew he had some stirrings of feelings for the attractive shopkeeper, ones she could accentuate quite nicely if she chose to. Lucas growled softly as he felt himself hardening slowly in his dress slacks, his naughty pet channeling just a little of her raw lust into him.

"Naughty wizard," came the almost inaudible whisper.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

The door closed softly behind her and Mirela wasted little time in putting some distance between her and those two. At the curb, she hailed a cab and slipped in, giving directions to her shop. Once the cab pulled out into the street, she sat back and let her thoughts have random freedom. Lucas Viernes. He didn’t bother her. Well, a little maybe, but it was his assistant, the lovely Annalise that disturbed her the most. She had taken an instant dislike to the woman and she wasn’t sure why exactly.

Now, Lucas Viernes, once she got past his hair color, she found him an interesting read. In fact, she found herself intrigued because she couldn’t read him, which was unusual for her. Most people she could read to various degrees. With this man, nothing. She loved his eyes though. She could look into those eyes---- physical attributes aside, there was something about him that she found disturbing. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on though. Curious.

~~ ~~​

The string of bells announced her return to the shop. Jenny was happy to see her. The place was buzzing more than usual. Foot traffic in the Tea, Books and Candlelight, was bustling. It always was as the holidays approached. If it was anything like last year, it would remain so clear into the new year and then it would begin to taper off as they returned to the norm.


“I’ll be right back to help you, Jen. Give me a second to put my things away.”


People were demanding their attention. Jenny was kept behind the counter ringing up sales. Mirela moved between the store’s main floor, helping people decide what kind of bath salts they might wish to purchase to pouring out tea or serving scones. Mirela soon forgot all about the expected three.

A hour and a half later, a quick glance at the wall clock reminded Mirela of her guests that would be arriving any time now. The shop had just closed. Mirela was ushering out the last of her lingering patrons. Jenny had just counted the till and was donning her coat to leave for the evening.

“Do you need anything else done, Mirela?” Jenny paused at the counter.

“No, Jenny. I can handle things here. You go home. Put your feet up. It’s been a hectic day. You have a good weekend.”

Mirela’s eyes took in the used cups on the table. Books haphazardly shoved back into shelves. Bottles and pots skewed on the shelves. She tossed Jenny a reassuring look and shooed her out of the shop, pausing to turn the sign in the door’s window to “Closed” before she set about collecting cups, saucers and small dessert plates. She normally opened the shop on Saturdays and Jenny came in the afternoons to close but tomorrow, Jenny asked for the day off.


Mirela was just front and facing the shops shelves when the bells rang out, announcing the arrival of guests. She turned, unconsciously wiping her palms against the sides of her thighs. Her eyes widened marginally when she saw Father Corcoran. The man could easily be a biker with religion. She was nonplussed when he sank to a knee, taking her hand and raising it to his lips.

Oh…. My.

"Father Michael Corcoran, lass......tis a pleasure ta meet ye, and a finer pleasure ta serve. If'n yer troubled by an errant ghostie, rest assured the Lord's light'll put the poor soul ta rest fer ye."

Her free hand came up to her throat and her eyes traveled over the large priest to the man not far from him. Lucas Viernes. Her eyes seemed to say, you didn’t prepare me for this. Damn you. Brown eyes returned the man still kneeling at her feet.

“A pleasure to meet you, Father. I’m Mirela Koroli. I’m… I’m not sure what I… oh for pity’s sake, please get up. I had forgotten just how bloody dramatic the Irish can be. Especially men."

She tugged her hand free. Viernes was right about one thing. Father Corcoran was nothing like the priests she knew. She glanced at all three of them.

“What do we do now?”

 

[dryfter]

“A pleasure to meet you, Father. I’m Mirela Koroli. I’m… I’m not sure what I… oh for pity’s sake, please get up. I had forgotten just how bloody dramatic the Irish can be. Especially men."

The man's maniacal grin almost instantly retook his face as he shot upward. Yet his eyes never once strayed from her own, a deep rumbling chuckle echoing through the tiny shop at her words.

"And have ye e'er been ta Eire, lass? Tis the only thing I can think o' at the moment prettier than you, and even now I'm thinkin tha's a stretch."

"Don't mind him, Mirela. He's an incorrigible flirt, but he's also under oath of chastity."

This brought about another sharp outburst of laughter, as the man turned to look at Lucas over his broad shoulder, "Aye, true 'nuff, so a man's gotta find himself a pleasure akin to the ones o' the flesh he cannae have. Fer me, that's makin sure the work I'm given is done well and done the first time."

The stirrings of a frown threatened to mar his good features then, Annalise giggling suddenly at the look. Lucas wasn't even listening.....instead, he had meandered over to a candle laden shelf.....peering carefully at each small label.

"Hyacinth, Lavender, Vanilla....."

"Oi, are you listenin ta me?"

"Mirela, I noticed some teas when I walked in. I feel I should inquire about your selection of Japanese and Chinese herbals and where I might find them?"

"Lucas....."

The warning growl was also easily dismissed, though the smirk of the damned succubus was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

"Father Michael, shouldn't you be sealing off this shop before your presence gives you away? Mirela did ask how this kind of thing gets kicked off. Annalise has confirmed that there's no demonic presence, and despite your disappointment, you still have a job to do. Wouldn't want to make the Lord look bad, now would you?"

For a moment, the two men just stared at each other. One calmly reaching for another candle....while the other reddened dangerously in the face.

"Cucumber.....what does a cucumber smell like?" Lucas took a tentative sniff before making a strange face and putting the scented candle back in its place.

"Aye, lass....he's got a point. We really should get this started before we run into problems. I'll be needin ye ta show me every point of exit in the house."

Even as they all watched, the holy man had reached for the oversized flask at his hip, unstoppering it, and allowing a generous libation to pour from its mouth onto her doorway.

"He won't be gettin away here."

Lucas sighed softly, knowing that in doing so, he was attracting his lovely clients attention. A thin, gloved hand slipped into his overcoat.....coming back into view with a small sheaf of playing card sized papers.

"Adhere."

With the flick of a wrist, he sent the first one flying toward the shelved wall. Just before striking it with its edge, the thin projectile twisted itself in mid air to settle itself between shelves. A soft flash followed contact with the wall....the once blank card now covered with strange sigils and glyphs.

"Aye....aye that'll be helpful! Spirit sealin the walls!"

Lucas nodded, "Just the outer ones where it might escape into the coming of night. It can bounce around in here all it wants. Oh my...."

Corcoran's head shot up in sudden alarm from where he had been sprinking a windowsill. It took a moment for the priest to settle deeper into his growing annoyed state. Another false alarm.....

"Mirela....this is quite the rare incense. I'd say you're probably the only one in town who has this in stock. Did you make this blend yourself? Quite useful in keeping away some of the more mischievous fae when burnt. I do believe I'll be leaving here with some of this as well. Or perhaps I'll just take it out of our arranged fee."

"Finally figured out a way to get back at those damned brownies, huh?"

Annalise had been keeping quiet up to this point, remembering quite vividly what it felt like to be on the business end of Corcoran. Still...she could only handle silence so long.

"Pfft, fae.....best to step on the wee ones than suffer their pranks. Some o' the elves are nice now, met my first one bout three months ago."

Lucas simply shook his head in silence. They had all said far too much, Mirela would think the whole lot of them completely insane. For now, he set the tempting incense back and returned to plastering her walls with his runic talismans.

"You do have a plan if this dunnae work, aye Lucas? Not that it won't. Ne'er have I seen a spirit that can hide from the Lord's light."

A soft huff came from his corner of the room. It took a moment for them all to realize the young man was laughing.

"I do, Father....but you're not going to find it as much fun. If your exorcism fails, we'll find out why.....right from the source."

Corcoran made a gagging noise, feigned, and certainly not attractive in the least. But it got the message across, he knew exactly what the warlock had in mind from his little "hint."

"Yer gonna set us down in a lil circle and make us talk ta it then? Ye think it'll even listen?"

That drew a shrug, another talisman in place. "Seances aren't my strong point. They're best conducted by a witch or a necromancer. I do know the motions though, have done a little study on the matter, so I could probably get by."

"Or ye could royally piss it off."

"Either way, it'd come out of the woodwork wouldn't it? If it decides to get angry, I'll just sic you on it."

Annalise flinched visibly, fully expecting the staunch priest to get mad. Instead, they were treated to a bellowing expulsion of laughter. He had taken care to douse each and every single one of the places Mirela had shown him liberally. Looking about him, the Father nodded approvingly at the smattering of talismans that greeted him no matter which direction he looked.....

"Right then. Shall we get this party started?"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her eyes were still locked with the good Father’s, answering him first.

“I ha’ been there a time or two. I cannae ge’ enough o’ the Emerald Isle, Father.”

"Don't mind him, Mirela. He's an incorrigible flirt, but he's also under oath of chastity."

Her eyes flickered to Lucas.

“Try telling me something I haven’t already figured out for myself, Mr. Viernes.”

"Aye, true 'nuff, so a man's gotta find himself a pleasure akin to the ones o' the flesh he cannae have. Fer me, that's makin sure the work I'm given is done well and done the first time."

Her eyes turned back to the good Father. There was a twinkle in her eyes as she placed a hand over her heart and turned on the drama.

“’Tis such a loss for womankind, I fear. That last sentence is not only enough to make a lady swoon, but wish it fell from every man’s lips.”

Once again, Lucas’ voice broke in, making her drop the act and turn in his direction. She smiled, moving toward him.

"Mirela, I noticed some teas when I walked in. I feel I should inquire about your selection of Japanese and Chinese herbals and where I might find them?"

She gestured toward a far corner of the shop floor.

“I have a wide selection, Mr. Viernes back there. I’m sure you’ll find something there that will appeal to your taste in teas.”

Conversation pressed between the two men. Her eyes went from one to the other.

"Cucumber.....what does a cucumber smell like?"

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could, he made a a face and set candle back in its place. She laughed softly. Mirela had been about to tell him that it smelled fresh and crisp. Some found it soothing. Apparently, from the look on his face, he didn’t.

"Aye, lass....he's got a point. We really should get this started before we run into problems. I'll be needin ye ta show me every point of exit in the house."

Father Corcoran claimed her attention again. Another smile crossed her lips.

“Of course, Father. When you’re finished dousing my doorway, I’ll be glad to show you. If you’ll follow me?”

Before she could move, Lucas did something strange. She froze and watched in fascination. Did he just…. Did those cards just… She blinked. Okay. Okay, Mirela. You’re not going crazy. You just saw that. Her mind was whirling. She half heard the conversation flowing around her. It was taking her mind a wee bit longer to comprehend. Slender fingers went to her temple and rubbed lightly.

"Mirela....this is quite the rare incense. I'd say you're probably the only one in town who has this in stock. Did you make this blend yourself? Quite useful in keeping away some of the more mischievous fae when burnt. I do believe I'll be leaving here with some of this as well. Or perhaps I'll just take it out of our arranged fee."

“Um,” her eyes closed briefly as she drew in a deep breath and then opened them as she exhaled, “I …uh… blend it myself. Just like I make most of the candles. I put an item or two into the candles as I make them, depending upon what they’re designed for. The…uh.. sea breeze candle for instance… used for relaxation purposes…has sea shells in it.. “

She fell silent as the conversation continued to flow around her. Mirela tugged at the front of her sweater. Was it getting hard to breathe in here all of a sudden? Her eyes went frantically to the open doorway between the shop and her living quarters. The priest had left the door open after she had taken him through her small apartment to show him the windows back there too. Escaping to her private space wasn’t going to help either. Right now, very little was private.

"Right then. Shall we get this party started?"

Her head was pounding. Her breathing was becoming labored. Who were these people? Or more specifically, what were Lucas and Annalise? She felt cold. So. Cold.

“I think….. I need… to sit down.”

Mirela’s hand anxiously shot out for the small stool behind the counter. That’s when it happened.

Absolutely nothing.

It felt as if the air and sound around her were sucked out of the room. Lucas was talking and she didn’t hear a thing. Father Corcoran was moving but in slow motion. She blinked again.

Then.....

Things started flying off the shelves. Candles. Books. Teacups. They became missiles. And they were flinging themselves at the other three people in the room. Lucas. Annalise. Father Corcoran.

 

[dryfter]

The warlock had found himself chuckling, in a better mood than he had seen in months, as he listened to the lovely brunette shopkeeper pull off a flawless Irish brogue after having only been around her interesting guests for a handful of minutes. If left up to him, Lucas would have had to say that he believed her when Mirela claimed to have visited the Emerald Isle. It was either that, or she picked up voice acting very quickly. Either way, he found it to be insanely amusing, even more so as the man in cloth showed no signs of offense.

That left Annalise. In times like this, she tended to get rather grouchy and irritable when he found a woman to be as amusing and all around.....pleasant, as he found Mirela to be. Pleasant, downright beautiful, and mixed with a saucy innocence he found as charming as he did alarming at times.

“I think….. I need… to sit down.”

He had been so relaxed, that he had almost missed it when it happened. Then again, her sudden swaying where she stood could have driven an icy stake of panic through his most fiery of hearts. Even the priest spun at her words, taking in what was surely happening in an instant.

"SOUL DRAIN! GET READY!"

He barely had time to throw his hands up as the first missile, a flowerpot, whizzed past his ear.

"You pissed it off, Corcoran!"

"Ah can see that quite clearly!"

"Aravasti, zenoxis, camindin!"

It wounded pride every bit as much as it had wounded his shoulder.....the candle he had been admiring just minutes ago, landing a solid enough blow as Lucas staggered back a step. The warlock scowled, only barely holding onto the words and not losing them completely.

"Capernicum!"

A shimmering barrier formed from an index finger. Dime sized at first, his magic seen only by those who possessed sight capable of seeing such things. It expanded soon enough, just in time to deflect another heavy looking jar, the fragile container exploding uselessly against the wall of force he had conjured.

"Now now, let's get you back here, hun."

At least his pet was proving useful. Then again, it was probably only out of fear of being punished for allowing a client to get hurt. Absently, he wondered if she'd even notice in her current state of confusion and sudden illness....just how easily the slip of a woman plucked her up off the ground. There was no mistaking that she was going to see his barrier. Not for the first time, the warlock cursed his foul luck that he had chosen to truck with demons and ignored his study of charms. A memory charm would have worked wonders at this point.

And then the two of them were safe beside him. If indeed that could be considered safe. It was certainly better than being in front, where Father Michael spewed Biblical phrases and swung a holy and blessed cudgel at something only he could see.

"It's a poltergeist alright."

Annalise could only nod and scowl, glancing down worriedly at Mirela.

"Are you alright, hun? It drew a little much from you to put on this kind of show. It'll run out of power soon, and then will probably go into hiding again. Not that it has anywhere to go anymore."

"Damn ye and yer magics, warlock! Give me a bloody hand here!"

Lucas scowled, his emerald eyes nearly piercing a hole right through the man's back.

"I can't attack what I can't see, Michael! You know that! And damned if I'm gonna burn this place to the ground. Wear the fucking thing out, and then get moving with the exorcism."

Not so easy when the opponent is as clever as the spirit they were facing. Already it had discerned that Lucas had ceased to be a viable target.....and his shield was large enough to provide Mirela cover.

Annalise took a heavy looking ledger book directly to her bountiful chest and barely flinched, instead looking down at the offending missile as if to determine if it was worth incinerating or not. Thankfully......she knew better after Lucas' words.

"How annoying. If it just had a set of fleshy lips, I could end this right now.....oooo.....and a nice big, ridged cock.....mmmmmm."

And that's where the fantasy ended, as those hazel eyes tinged red for just a split second.

"Because its definitely....male."

After a full fifteen minutes that seemed to stretch out for an eternity.......the shop slowly began to settle. Papers, feathers, and other such light fluff as what Mirela stocked as curios fluttered softly to the ground around them. With a sigh, Lucias felt his grasp on the arcane slip.....all magic conjurings destined to expire.....and this was no different. He was simply thankful that it had lasted as long as it had.

"Lucas? Lass? Demon dog? Ye alright?"

That bought about an angry hiss from Annalise and a soft nod from the warlock who immediately turned his full attention to Mirela.

"How about you? Are you alright? I know you're probably feeling a little tired, or ill.....can you go on?"

"It was nae a drain, Lucas. Ye should know better than tha'. Poltergeists cannae drain like specters and ghosties can....though wraiths are the worst by far."

All three sets of eyes settled on her. If it wasn't that.....then just what the hell had happened?

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Everything that happened after she reached for the stool behind the counter became a haze. It was as if she were standing outside of her body and watching the whole ordeal, including herself! The things that happened next, no one would believe her if she were of the inclination to tell the tale. She’d rather not chance getting locked up in a padded room under observation, however.

It was all so confusing, the things she witnessed and made her mind ache. She was seeing things with her eyes that her logical mind was rejecting. It was pretty though. She admired the lovely, shimmering, well, shield like thing that seemed to hang off the tip of Lucas’ finger. She was so busy admiring it, that she didn’t see Annalise approach.

"Now now, let's get you back here, hun."

The woman’s voice intruded. Mirela’ head tipped back, her eyes slid from the carnage going on in her shop, to the woman standing in front of her. Before Mirela could think to scramble to her feet, Annalise had plucked her off the ground like she weighed nothing more than a rag doll. Mirela wasn’t a feather by any means. She did take some pride in being slim, though well rounded. High full abundant breasts gave way to a slender torso into a waist a man could span with his hands easily. Her hips were well rounded and her body narrowed to slim legs and trim ankles. Now, Annalise? She looked like a bustier version of a runway model. Mirela decided she hated the other woman. Life was not fair. No, wait. Mirela’s eyes narrowed. There was something about the other woman. She just couldn’t put her finger on it…..yet.

Annalise helped her over to Lucas. Father Michael was standing just in front of them and if she wasn’t still feeling so dizzy and disoriented, she would have found the conversation passing between the good Father and Lucas, amusing. Annalise’s voice broke into her reverie.

"Are you alright, hun? It drew a little much from you to put on this kind of show. It'll run out of power soon, and then will probably go into hiding again. Not that it has anywhere to go anymore."

Mirela nodded. “I’m feeling a little dizzy but nothing alarming.”

"Damn ye and yer magics, warlock! Give me a bloody hand here!"

Wait. What? Had Father Michael just called Lucas a…a… warlock?

Her eyes spun to Lucas, still holding his finger out and the shield still spewed from it. But…but… there really weren’t such things as warlocks in this day and age…were there?

"I can't attack what I can't see, Michael! You know that! And damned if I'm gonna burn this place to the ground. Wear the fucking thing out, and then get moving with the exorcism."

Her eyes skimmed around the room. Was it her imagination or was it growing more furious in here while those two were tossing about angry words? She was just going to say something when a huge book hit Annalise in the chest. That book. It looked familiar. Her eyes narrowed in concentration. It was hard to focus on anything with Father Michael shouting something about the Lord, but Annalise’s next words brought red to Mirela’s cheeks.

"How annoying. If it just had a set of fleshy lips, I could end this right now.....oooo.....and a nice big, ridged cock.....mmmmmm."

THAT WAS IT!!!

She shot Annalise another look. An incredulous one. No. There weren’t such things as succub--- but… but… if Lucas was a warlock…. Then it was entirely possible that…. No. Besides, a man of the Mother Church wouldn’t be in cahoots with a warlock and a succubus…. Now would he?

She was still silently trying to assimilate possibilities here when everything died down as quickly as they had stirred up and all three of them had turned and looked at her. She looked from one to the other. Her eyes fell on the book Annalise was still clutching.

“My grandmother’s book! I wondered where that had gotten to. May I have it, please?”

Mirela held out her hand for the book. It slowly fell to her side as all three sets of eyes were still watching her. Intently.

“What’s going on here? And why are you three staring at me as if I just grew a third eye? And the book, Annalise. I’ll take that, please. It’s been in my family for generations.”

Her fingers reached and rested on the book.

“And whatever this thing is, had better be male. I’d hate to think I’ve been groped by a female.”

She tossed the other woman an almost apologetic look.

“No offense, Annalise.”

 

[dryfter]

He knew. And inwardly, he cursed.

It was bad enough that Corcoran had screamed out his true choice of trade, but at the moment he glanced at Mirela to see if maybe....just maybe....the embattled priest's words had gone unnoticed.....

He knew he would have some explaining to do. A lot of it from the looks of things. Namely how she was staring at him......not just at him......but the web of arcane energy that was shielding the both of them even now.

She could see it. She had the Sight. Yet he wasn't completely surprised. He had somehow known something was.....off....with this little store. The incense. The incense had been what had first given him a tingle of suspicion. Just who was this woman?

The magic fractured as the duration of the spell elapsed, shattering like glass without that awful sound....dissipating into nothing but a soft smell of ozone.

With a soft sigh, he gave his partner in crime a sidelong glance. He was thankful for Annalise's quick action in protecting their client. The warlock glanced down at the succubus' enfolded arms, noting at first how it made her full breasts press together and deepen her cleavage. Just the soft rush of excitement that sight brought him garnered her attention, as she turned towards him with a wicked and knowing smile.

"Master, you know its not appropriate to feed me while on a job......but if you insist....."

"Where did you get that book?"

He was desperate to change the subject, though not so much so that he let the sudden wave of panic translate much more than a flinch to his facial features. Luckily enough, the blurted question drew pause from the gorgeous blonde, frowning as she glanced down.

“My grandmother’s book! I wondered where that had gotten to. May I have it, please?”

Both of them turned as one to Mirela, completely ignoring the huffing and wheezing of the recovering, fatigued priest.

“What’s going on here? And why are you three staring at me as if I just grew a third eye? And the book, Annalise. I’ll take that, please. It’s been in my family for generations.”

For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other, though thankfully there was no hostility present. Finally, the succubus glanced askance at Lucas, the warlock nodding softly at her hesitation.

"It doesn't matter what's in the book, Annalise. Its not ours. Return it please. I'm sure you've heard how much it apparently means to Miss Mirela."

A soft nod, barely enough to move her perfect blonde mane.....the thick tome extended effortlessly with one hand towards the lovely shopkeeper.

"Might tha' be the reason....."

"No."

Corcoran frowned, his gaze shifting from the book, to Lucas.....and then to his right to take in Mirela once more.

"This spirit definitely has roots in this place and is angry we intruded. We're men, so its not interested in us the way it was Mirela...."

His muttered "thank god" brought more than one smile to the faces around him.

"And it apparently knows better than to go after a feel of Annalise."

A soft growl escaped his servant again, throaty and husky, like an aggressive lover in the throes of passion......and every bit as promising.

"Can we get this over with quickly please? I'm tired of feeling useless as anything other than a shield."

The Irishman grinned, "Can't we delay a lil longer? I rather enjoy the sight of you gettin flustered."

The succubus matched him grin for grin, and not an ounce of amusement in either one of them.

"You don't proceed, and I'm going to give you a sight you'll not forget soon."

As if to make good on her threat in the most brazen of manner, thin fingers curled suggestively around the inside of her still sodden blouse. Its translucent nature had left very little to the imagination to begin with......but she was always willing to go further.....

"Stop that, Annalise."

"Aye, yer master dunnae wanna deal with spoon feedin ya fer another week if'n things go badly fer ye again. Keep those godsforsaken tits ta yerself fer a change."

"Oh, I wouldn't touch you, Father. Just give you something to masturbate to when you're alone and its only your pitiful God watching."

Corcoran's scowl deepened, and this time, so did Lucas' own disapproval. It must have been felt however, because the blonde's slender hands dropped back down to her sides.

"Somewhere in the middle of this showdown was a good point."

Both heated sets of stares centered almost immediately upon him.

"Being....can we get going with this? Or are we waiting for another kinetic barrage? That's not likely to go well for me, and I've used my Inertial Barrier spell already."

"At least you're a thin target to hit."

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted as Corcoran snorted, trying desperately to not laugh at the comment. He certainly didn't want to give any seeming approval to anything that the demoness said or did.....but dammit.....that was funny!

"Aye then....."

It took a moment for the Catholic to regain his composure, both his thick and meaty hands reaching for the large crucifix on his chest. Annalise flinched and fell back a step as the object was thrust outward as far as it would go until its chain around the priest's neck snapped taut.

"O' Lord, giver of salvation, Great Shepherd always watchin o'er his flock.....grant us yer peace, yer solitude, yer divine wisdom and light. Today, we deliver unto ye a lost sheep that we have found astray from yer great flock, a black sheep unwilling to return to the safety o' yer fold. Great Lord, we yer humble servants....."

"I am not humble, nor am I his servant," Annalise whispered, not nearly loud enough to be heard by anyone outside of the two who were just paces away from her.

".....ask that ye come and deliver this one ta yer grace. Purify the lamb's black wool until he glistens with the purity and sanctity ye demand of yer own."

For all the rambling of the preacher's speech, there was no mistaking the sudden and enveloping aura of calm and serenity that had begun to spread throughout the store. There was no light, no visible manifestation at all......

But they could all hear the scream.

Lucas flinched, Annalise recoiled, stepping protectively before Mirela a split second later just in case.

A second later.....and there were two of them. The Father.....and the glimmering outline of a man, driven to his knees before the Irishman. With a grin, Corcoran reached for the entity with a broad hand, the other still fisted around his holy symbol.

"No....no don't! I'm not ready yet! I didn't do anything wrong! All I did was look up her skirt a few times! Ok....I might have....."

"Be at peace."

The hollow sounding voice silenced, a soft tremor rippling through the thing's ethereal body.

"Be cleansed of the sins o' yer past, set free of the lewd debauchery that grips yer heart. Be cleansed and rejoin the flock ye were meant for."

And then came the light....finally.....bright enough that Lucas had to look away. Annalise fell back a step and nearly stumbled over Mirela. The demoness looked distinctly sick to her stomach.

When he could see again......the first thing he saw was the silver, jewel encrusted crucifix slipping back into place amid Father Corcoran's vest, the preacher dusting his hands off, turning and smiling wide at their gawking client.

"Lucas was spot on. Poltergeist. Ne'er a problem fer ol' Corcoran though. Gotta say it was a pleasure, put it quite a fight, it did. Are ye alright, lass?"

He waited patiently for an answer, before coughing rather sheepishly into a white gloved hand.

"Now....o' course Lucas told ye bout how I operate. Tis' no greater joy fer me than ta travel about doin the Lord's work where I'm needed. However, if'n ye find my services suitable, yer more than welcome ta place a donation with the Holy Trinity church.....travel expenses and whatnot."

The staunch cleric approached, happy enough to see Annalise retreat out of his way like a rabbit bolting for its hole. Again he reached for her, seeking out Mirela's hand, this time not for a kiss.....but a firm handshake and a satisfied nod.

"I'm no longer needed here. I trust Lucas'll clean up the mess. If'n ye'll excuse me, I've already got another job ta do and must be on my way. Thank ye so much fer havin me o'er, and God bless ye, Mirela."

The warlock sighed softly......watching him go as the small string of bells, surprisingly missed in the spirit's furious assault of projectiles, jingled on his way out.

"Alright.....clean up it is."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Master? I'd rather not be the one spoon feeding you for a week."

Lucas chuckled....knowing Annalise wasn't the only person whose attention was on him. For a second, he remained silent, simply meeting Mirela's inquisitive gaze. She would have questions, no doubt. Though whether or not he would be in any condition to answer them.

"Please stay silent for just a moment longer, Mirela. I'm about to attempt something very......complicated."

"Xanifer, krazit, hylemon, reuth......espryius, wilhelm, odyrion, derah, thirium......"

It started out simply enough. The first few words were always the easiest to recall.....but the longer the incantation, the more powerful the spell. The more powerful the spell.....the more it took out of him. Always. Even Annalise could see the beads of sweat beginning on his brow as he reached the eighth or ninth arcane word. She had good reason to be worried......he very rarely attempted what academics would consider to be a seventh level spell. He had never attempted any higher than that.....he simply wasn't strong enough yet.

"....unctuarious......tryntanion......"

Lucas sagged softly, not surprised that Annalise wasn't there to catch him as he staggered, feeling his loosed magic expel forcefully from his body. An abstract thought as he stood there, gasping for breath......

Could Mirela see this too? Not just the effect his magic was intended to have, surely she would see that......but the invisible arcane hands behind it all......

The shop once more exploded into motion.....only in reverse. A shattered candle jar hovered in mid air, reformed into one solid container again, and settled back into its original place on her shelves. Lucas slid softly to his knees.....panting.....oblivious to the whirl of chaotic movements around him. It would not bring the poltergeist back......thankfully......but his time reversal.....if even just the last fifteen minutes.....would restore Mirela's shop to what it was without anyone but the three of them being any wiser.

"There......done."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She caught something from the corner of her eye. Experience had taught her not to turn her head quickly and look directly. She watched the shield fall like glass from a broken window but it didn’t fall, it simply, vanished.

"Master, you know its not appropriate to feed me while on a job......but if you insist....."

Feed? What did she…

Her eyes moved between Annalise and Lucas. Then her eyes widened and a blush filled her cheeks. The hand she held out for the book fell to her side as she diverted her eyes.

So. It was like that, was it?

Annalise extended the book to her, which Mirela accepted with all the grace and aplomb she could muster. The other three were talking over or around her as the case may be and for the moment, that was fine with her. Idly, she traced her fingertips over the embossed designs on the cover of her grandmother’s book. A soft light flared from them and then quickly died away. Mirela never understood how or why it did that. She glanced up in time to see Annalise’s fingers slip into her blouse. Oh dear.

She felt out of sorts. Out of place. Here, in her own store. These three apparently had history together and from the sound of it, a great deal more than she wanted to know about. Even though she was getting a bit of an education and not one she particularly wanted either. Her eyes turned in Father Michael’s direction as he began to speak.

"O' Lord, giver of salvation, Great Shepherd always watchin o'er his flock.....grant us yer peace, yer solitude, yer divine wisdom and light. Today, we deliver unto ye a lost sheep that we have found astray from yer great flock, a black sheep unwilling to return to the safety o' yer fold. Great Lord, we yer humble servants..... ask that ye come and deliver this one ta yer grace. Purify the lamb's black wool until he glistens with the purity and sanctity ye demand of yer own."

There was a scream. Ethereal in sound. Annalise stepped in front of her. Mirela clutched her grandmother’s book to her chest and stepped backwards. Then she saw it or rather, him. She didn’t know who he was, but it was clearly a spirit. If she didn’t believe before, she did then. She saw him with her own eyes. Kind of hard to refute that kind of thing. Father Michael kept speaking to the ghost.

"No....no don't! I'm not ready yet! I didn't do anything wrong! All I did was look up her skirt a few times!....."

Mirela couldn’t believe it. Why that whiny, little, lying piece of….

“Ok....I might have….”

Damn straight.

Her eyes narrowed on the spirit kneeling before the priest. Damn little weasel of a man. Why, the good Father should send him on his way in the other direction for lying so blatantly.

"Be at peace."

Then there was a Light. The Light. It was bright. Mirela couldn’t look away. It was beautiful. Annalise nearly stumbled over her in an effort to retreat. The man on the ground got to his feet, turning as he looked into the Light. Then, without even looking back, he walked toward it then into it. He dissipated and the Light imploded and was gone. Mirela blinked. Her eyes turned to Father Michael with an incredulous look in their depths. As if she couldn’t believe she had just seen what she had seen.

"Lucas was spot on. Poltergeist. Ne'er a problem fer ol' Corcoran though. Gotta say it was a pleasure, put it quite a fight, it did. Are ye alright, lass?"

Mirela could only nod.

"Now....o' course Lucas told ye bout how I operate. Tis' no greater joy fer me than ta travel about doin the Lord's work where I'm needed. However, if'n ye find my services suitable, yer more than welcome ta place a donation with the Holy Trinity church.....travel expenses and whatnot."

Oh. She was going to go to church alright. She was going to make a decent donation as well. Father Michael came toward her, reaching for her hand. She put her own into it and felt his firm handshake. She liked a man with a firm handshake.

"I'm no longer needed here. I trust Lucas'll clean up the mess. If'n ye'll excuse me, I've already got another job ta do and must be on my way. Thank ye so much fer havin me o'er, and God bless ye, Mirela."

“Thank you, Father.”

Her voice was soft, filled with wonder, confusion and appreciation.

Then there were three. A warlock, a succubus, and herself.

"Alright.....clean up it is."

After what they had just been through, her mind was still off track. Clean-up. Right. Mirela looked at the book in her hands then at the carnage of her shop. It was going to take weeks before she could replace her stock. What was she going to do in the meantime? She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she glanced Lucas’ way.

"Please stay silent for just a moment longer, Mirela. I'm about to attempt something very......complicated."

Huh? What the heck did he mean by that?

She wanted to ask but he asked for her silence for a bit longer. After what they had just come through? She could do that. Maybe.

Lucas began to chant. Words. They made no sense to her. But she could see in the air, faint traces of …of… something. Silver. Shades of blues and greens. Shimmering in the air above them or rather, above Lucas, while broken glass was mended right before her eyes and flew back on the shelves from whence they came. Books were carefully lifted from the floor by gentle unseen hands and slid back into the bookcases. It was as if everything moved in reverse of what had happened. Tables and chairs that had been tipped to the floor in a fit of petulant behavior, righted themselves. It wasn’t long before everything in the shop was as it had been. She turned in time to see Lucas slip to his knees, his breathing was labored.

"There......done."

“Lucas! What happened? Are you okay?”

She had forgotten all about Annalise in her concern for the man on his knees or the fact she had addressed him by his first name. She set the book on the counter and rushed to his side, concern in her eyes as she knelt beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Anything else she wanted to know, could wait and by heaven there was a lot she wanted to know.

 

[dryfter]

"Reverse Time."

Annalise's words rolled off her lips colder than usual, as she watched the mortal woman rush to the foolish warlock's side. She could have replaced those baubles. Sure it would have cost her a pretty penny, but that was the drawbacks of having a poltergeist in one's closet....so to speak.

"A seventh level spell, and one Lucas should know better than to bandy about with recklessly."

The warlock stiffened slightly, though more at Annalise's words than Mirela's gentle touch.

"Reckless, pheh. You can't even cast fourth level spells."

"Which is why my spells can't kill me."

Lucas chuckled softly. He could about imagine Mirela's reaction to that. Still....he was grateful for her presence now, her touch galvanizing his troubled soul and stabilizing him more than what she could possibly know. Yet another effect he couldn't help but notice and be curious about......

"Thank you, Miss Mirela. I'm all right. I appreciate your concern."

He rose rather unsteadily, and definitely didn't look all that well, yet there was no dulling the light in those eyes of his, nor stopping the quirky smile that creased his face as he reached out to lean against her counter. Turning to finally face her, his amusement only grew more apparent. The woman looked fairly bursting with questions, and yet had the self control and poise to look after the more important things first.....like a strange man collapsing in her shop.

"Alright, out with it. You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep curiosity bottled up like that."

A thin hand dipped into his vest pocket, bringing out a small aromatic packet.....

"But first.....now that I've fixed things up for you again.....I don't suppose you could manage some boiling water, say for tea?"

He pushed off from the counter's hard surface, standing under his own power with no initial signs of infirmity. A few steps carried him past his scowling succubus and to the door....where he flipped the sign to CLOSED. The palm of his hand settled firmly against the frame a second later as he leaned hard once more, slowly working to calm his racing breath.....a wave of vertigo suddenly sweeping over him.

"So have you seen enough of our world? The world? Of course not, not from that look in your eyes. You know what curiosity does for a person though, don't you?"

For a partner, Annalise was being the anathema of helpful. If anything else, she kept her distance as she warily watched him make his way back to her sales counter, dragging a small chair he spotted along the way with him.

He propped himself up with an elbow at the small little counter, waiting patiently to see if she could manage the hot water or not. More or less waiting patiently for the flood of questions he knew was coming. The least he could do was answer a few.

"Ever meet a demon before?"

From the sounds of things, that at least got a reaction.

"Would you like to?"

He chuckled softly. It was almost fun, teasing her in such a manner, but she deserved better. Thankfully Annalise stood blissfully quiet for a change, though her scowl said all it neeed to regarding her opinion on the matter. But what was the point now? Almost all of their clients had their eyes opened in some manner from the random antics the two of them seemed capable of every job they accepted.

"All you'd need is a resident warlock. Fortunately, you happen to have met one recently. Of course, warlocks are oft times confused for wizards. The easiest way to tell the difference, of course, is to take a gander at their familiars."

He paused, it was only a matter of time before the floodgates burst, and her questions poured forth. He was merely prompting her.

"A wizard can have many different types of familiars, natural or mythical. One of the more interesting ones I've met in my time even had a tiny dragon familiar. Duecedly intelligent little thing too, set my clothes on fire. Apparently it didn't care too much for me."

A soft chuckle, the soft rapping of his packet against the hardwood of the counter....

"Now a warlock, they have familiars too. Only they're demonic. The more powerful the warlock, the more powerful the pet. And of course, some even evolve, so that they grow stronger still as their master progresses."

Tea.....he could really use his tea right now, and it had nothing to do with the caffeine inherent in the leaves. Yet he waited patiently, water took time to boil. Lucas only hoped she didn't see his hands had begun to tremble and shake slightly. They always seemed to do this....after the rush of magic had begun to fade.....

"Now most warlocks can be identified on sight just by their familiars. That gets them in trouble with the druids....that's an ancient war I'd rather not go into right now if you don't mind. But it gets a little trickier if the....pet....had a flair for illusion magic...."

He let the suggestion hang out in the open as she finally appeared once more, choosing to greet Mirela with a smile intended to ease her no doubt badly shaken nerves instead.

"Now, let's hear them....I'm sure you're fair to bursting with questions. In all fairness, I've a few for you as well."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

The banter between Lucas and Annalise spoke of familiarity that she didn’t feel like intruding upon. Warlock. Succubus. What did she know of such things? The answer was simple. Very little.

"Thank you, Miss Mirela. I'm all right. I appreciate your concern."

As he got to his feet, unsteadily, she rose with him, a hand slipping under his arm to help steady him. Even though he said he was all right, she wasn’t so sure. He didn’t look too good. He was unstable on his feet; his pallor was pale. He moved away from her to lean on her counter, making her sigh in exasperation. Stubborn male. But then, weren’t they all at some point or another?

"Alright, out with it. You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep curiosity bottled up like that."

Observant too. He was right. She was bursting from curiosity. There were a million questions rolling around in her head. Lucas reached into his vest pocket and pulled out some sort of packet.

"But first.....now that I've fixed things up for you again.....I don't suppose you could manage some boiling water, say for tea?"

“Of course,” she gave him an irritated look. She wasn’t helpless. A little ignorant maybe, but not useless, “but not out here,” she gave the room a cursory look, her flashing toward Annalise, “Would you help him back to my apartment please, Annalise?”

Without waiting for an answer, her heels tapped softly on the floor as she strode toward the back of the shop and into her apartment. She didn’t even glance over her shoulder to see if they followed her or not. Mirela was confused. She was irritated and her head ached, but right now, it wasn’t about her. These two had come to her rescue and the least she could do was be a good hostess. Mirela moved to her small stove and took up the kettle resting here, turning toward the kitchen sink and set about filling the kettle before she put it back on the stove and turned the heat on under it. While she waited for it to boil, his words rang in her ears.

Warlock. Demon. Familiar. Her brow furrowed as she stood at the stove, her back to the main part of the room as she watched the kettle.

A watched pot never boils, chavi.

Something her granny use to always say. A lot of what her granny told her was coming back to her. Things she thought were fable, old wives tales passed down from generation to generation. After what she witnessed today, she wasn’t so sure of that anymore. Mirela sidestepped to a cabinet, opening it and drew down two mugs, placing them on the counter. Drawing a sealed canister from the counter, she opened it the waft of soothing herbs greeted her. Pulling a packet out, she dropped it into one of the mugs. She set the mugs on a tray and added a spoon and a pot of honey. Just in case. The kettle whistled. Mirela poured hot water into both mugs and set the kettle back on the stove before she picked up the tray and turned, noting that the demoness had brought her master back into the apartment. Mirela crossed the room and set the tray on the small coffee table. She held out her hand for his packet.

“Tea first. Questions next. I could use a cup as well. My mind is trying to assimilate everything I’ve witnessed today. Everything my grandmother told me that I thought was merely, well, folklore. Imagine my surprise when I realized it wasn’t and everything she ever told me as I sat on her lap, is true.”

Mirela picked up her mug and sat down at the other end of the couch, toed off her heels and curled her legs up on the couch, close to her body. There was a wary look in her eyes as she regarded Lucas Virenes. She didn’t look away even as she drew the mug to her lips and took a small sip of the tea. It’s warmth slid down her throat and soothed her raw nerves. Her eyes broke from his and flickered in Annalise’s direction.

“You’re a succubus. You prey on men, yes?”

The blonde’s eyebrow arched a little and there was a sarcastic look in her eyes but before she could even retort, Mirela held up a hand.

“I am not being a smart ass here nor condescending. I’m just trying to put things into perspective for my brain. I’m trying to recall what my grandmother told me of those like you. You’re a demon,” her eyes slid back to Lucas for a moment, “and between you, there is some sort of contract. Correct?”

What had Lucas needed so badly that he locked himself into a contract with the demon? There was always a contract in these types of things. Her brows drew toward one another as she tried to recollect the things her granny had told her. What had Lucas needed? Power? Special talents? And why the hell did it matter to her? She hadn’t known him even a day as of yet. Wait. She would probably not have any further contact with Lucas after today. She no longer required his services. And why the hell did such a perspective sadden her, even a little?

 

[dryfter]

“Tea first. Questions next. I could use a cup as well. My mind is trying to assimilate everything I’ve witnessed today. Everything my grandmother told me that I thought was merely, well, folklore. Imagine my surprise when I realized it wasn’t and everything she ever told me as I sat on her lap, is true.”

"I couldn't agree more."

He had followed her easily enough, though he had been somewhat surprised to find that the dainty little shop had also doubled as her lodging. It was only after a moment's thought that it occurred to him that this all made sense. Especially for a small shop like hers. He could only imagine the enhanced security she must have felt, not having to move around much at all to take care of her day to day life.

The warlock slid smoothly into a chair when it was offered to him, his servant opting to stand despite a similar offer. Mirela hardly seemed offended, which was good, at this point Lucas was hardly inclined to order Annalise to sit with them.

“You’re a succubus. You prey on men, yes?”

Lucas nearly choked on his tea. It was enough to earn him a brief glance from their beautiful host. She was assimilating.....rather quickly. He'd been listening to her as Mirela spoke, but couldn't have imagined she'd come to such an accurate conclusion so quickly. Meanwhile, the blonde behind him eyed the shopkeeper as one might a potential threat.

"It's not like you went to any great lengths to hide it, Annalise."

“I am not being a smart ass here nor condescending. I’m just trying to put things into perspective for my brain. I’m trying to recall what my grandmother told me of those like you. You’re a demon, and between you, there is some sort of contract, correct?”

Lucas smiled softly and nodded just as silently, loathe to interrupt her while she was on a roll. He had been surprised by her intuitive nature....now he was just as intrigued by it. Meanwhile, having finished blowing across the surface of the dark contents of his cup, Viernes took a slow sip. It was acrid, bitter....but unlike most teas of similar nature, it actually soothed him as he both imbibed as well as inhaled the spiced vapors.

"And you, my dear, have the Sight....don't you?"

With his ginger hair in stark contrast to his darker clothing, he lifted a quirky grin in Mirela's direction, Annalise shifting behind him uncomfortably.....more so when an answer wasn't immediately forthcoming.

"What do you mean, Lucas? The Sight? What's that?"

The warlock frowned just as quickly as his good humor had shone through, finding the question to be as irritating as it was exasperating. Twisting slightly, he glanced over his shoulder at her, at least giving his pet the courtesy of eye contact.

"It means, she can see past the veil of normal mortality. It was quite rare in the past, and those who possessed the ability were treated in a myriad of different ways. Some were lauded and heralded into their age as great prophets, others ended up decried and sent to insane asylums for seeing things others could not."

The succubus squirmed slightly, their bond conveying to her quite clearly her master's displeasure for having been interrupted. Yet he knew the demoness' curiosity wouldn't be abated with just that for an explanation. Fortunately, she could wait....as he turned his attention back to the woman....and the tea.....before him.

"In short, you saw my magic earlier, didn't you? I'm not referring to the magic's effect.....or rather, the restoration of your shop. I'm talking about the thin strands that mended and controlled the restoration. You also saw my inertial barrier, you flinched away when it shattered as if you expected some form of resounding crash."

His words were matter of fact, as if he didn't really need a confirmation for suspicion to become reality. There was enough extenuating evidence after all.....

Another long sip, and he glanced down at his cup, before once more looking up at her and looking deep into her stare with his own piercing emerald gaze. The soft clink of porcelain was the only noise for long moments as his teacup settled against her table.

"What I'd like to know is if you got that ability naturally, or if its hereditary. The former does occur sporadically, with usually the results I mentioned above. But with the way you cradled that old tome earlier, and the way you mention your old grandmother and the stories she used to tell you.....I'm wagering on the latter. While its none of my business really, I thought perhaps an exchange of information might be in order. To mutually satisfy each other's curiosity?"

He paused for a moment, taking another long sip and letting her think it over....setting the cup back down, conveniently empty now save for the few stains that remained. Gently, he pushed his cup to her.....using the distraction to reach for the dark glove on his right hand, and feeling a jangle of sudden alarm and warning carry through to him through his bond with Annalise.

"Tell me what you see."

A jerk of his chin directed her to the cup he had just drained. It was a whimsical exercise, and one he couldn't even perform himself. But it was simple divination, in short.....some with latent talent could divine the future from such disgusting little stains as what he had left behind. If she couldn't....that was ok too....he had more than a few tests in store for her. At least this one, she would most likely not suspect.

The glove fell away, the warlock turning the back of his hand to her for Mirela to see when she did finally look up again. The flesh was scarred prominently, the unholy symbol he had used to channel the portal his succubus servant into this world still appeared as if it had just healed over yesterday, the marred flesh bright pink with the edges tinged red.

"You were asking about this, yes? Its the sign of my contract. If you do have the Sight, you can see the tiny runes, glyphs, and sigils etched into the scar tissue itself....though without proper teaching, you'll no doubt be unable to read them. Suffice to say.....they're the rules and clauses between master and familiar, and dictate what Annalise can and cannot do within my control."

"Are you really going to tell her that? We don't even know this girl!"

The warlock only chuckled, his wry sense of humor returning, "You can tell her if you prefer."

Annalise scowled briefly before sighing in defeat. If this was his wish.....

"I can feed on him, though I can only take needed sustenance, I can't take enough of his spirit to kill him."

Succubus and warlock both watched closely, the shopkeeper's reaction.

"I also get his soul when he dies. And if you're wondering, its a very powerful soul, so yes....its valuable to me."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

"And you, my dear, have the Sight....don't you?"

Mirela’s head tipped slightly to one side as she unconsciously nibbled on the corner of her lip, her eyes becoming expressionless, her mind thinking. Then there was a brief shake of her head. Her eyes refocused on the man in the chair.

“If you had asked me that any other day but today, I would have told you no. I didn’t believe in that sort of thing. Now, I’m not so sure what I believe.”

Her eyes shifted to Annalise as she spoke. Silently, she watched the interaction between the two. It was a relationship she couldn’t understand. Her mind dredged back through her childhood talks with her grandmother. A succubus wasn’t something her grandmother had spoken of in great detail. She’d have to do a little of her own research later.

"In short, you saw my magic earlier, didn't you? I'm not referring to the magic's effect.....or rather, the restoration of your shop. I'm talking about the thin strands that mended and controlled the restoration. You also saw my inertial barrier, you flinched away when it shattered as if you expected some form of resounding crash."

Mirela’s mind was drawn back to the present. Her head bobbed in acknowledgement.

“If that’s what I witnessed, then yes, I did. I saw more than just your magick putting everything back as before. I saw the….” Her mind struggled to recall her own lessons, “….. the residue of magick being worked as well. I watched your aura grow dimmer as you used your energy and yes, I saw the shield you formed.”

She shifted on the couch uneasily. Up until today, she had never had any reason to believe she could do any of those things. The Sight passed through the generations by the females of the family. Granny had the Sight. Whenever she spoke, warned, advised, the family listened. Other family members came to her with their troubles and woes and Granny use to take them to the back of the house. They would be gone for a time but then return and the family visit would continue. She once asked her mother about it, but her mom had simply hushed her and softly rebuked Mirela to mind her own business.

Mirlea glanced up from staring idly into her cup and found Lucas giving her a piercing stare, one she couldn’t look away from.

"What I'd like to know is if you got that ability naturally, or if its hereditary. The former does occur sporadically, with usually the results I mentioned above. But with the way you cradled that old tome earlier, and the way you mention your old grandmother and the stories she used to tell you.....I'm wagering on the latter. While its none of my business really, I thought perhaps an exchange of information might be in order. To mutually satisfy each other's curiosity?"

Before she could reply, Luca did something she had seen others do to her grandmother or her mother, but never her. He drank his tea, set the cup on the coffee table between them and pushed it toward her.

"Tell me what you see."

He softly probed and it was probing. She knew that. The tip of her tongue swiped across her suddenly dry lips, her eyes fell on the proffered cup. She hesitated. She knew what he wanted her to do. Heaven only knew that she had watched her mother and grandmother do it so many times before. Mirela set her own cup on the coffee table and picked up his cup and saucer. Her eyes closed briefly as she drew in a deep breath and then let it out before she upturned the cup onto the saucer and spun it clockwise three times from the base. She then lifted the cup by the handle and set his cup on the table next to hers. Her eyes returned to the pattern the wet, used tea leaves lying on small saucer made and studied them.

“I’m not trained in any of this Lucas,” her eyes lifted and found his again, “but I’m not totally ignorant of it either. There’s something here. Annalise as well,” her eyes shifted to the busty blonde and then back to Lucas. Trials and tribulations, moreso than an unsuspecting person would encounter,” she frowned, “a book. I see an old tome. A cross,” she offered, “Maybe Father Michael again?” She laughed, her eyes twinkling with silent humor as she gazed him a moment.

“I also see….. some sort of catacombs and a door. An old one. It has etchings above and around it.”

Mirela gave a slight shake to her head and set the saucer on the table. Her fingers shook as she took up her own teacup again, wrapping those digits around the mug gratefully to still their shaking. When her eyes finally met his again, her own grew wide and she drew back sharply. His hand or more rightly, the back of his hand.

"You were asking about this, yes? It’s the sign of my contract. If you do have the Sight, you can see the tiny runes, glyphs, and sigils etched into the scar tissue itself....though without proper teaching, you'll no doubt be unable to read them. Suffice to say.....they're the rules and clauses between master and familiar, and dictate what Annalise can and cannot do within my control."

He was quite correct. She had no idea. She saw the squiggly lines, bent ones, grouped together to form into some sort of symbols, but that was all she could acknowledge. She had no training in reading them and apparently, they could be read.

Annalise interrupted. Mirela listened.

"I can feed on him, though I can only take needed sustenance, I can't take enough of his spirit to kill him. I also get his soul when he dies. And if you're wondering, it’s a very powerful soul, so yes....it’s valuable to me."

Mirela’s eyes sought Lucas’ again.

“I see. I can’t claim to understand any of this but why in hell would you do such a thing? Why would you give up your soul to a demoness? What did you get out of this deal? And why would you give her your power, your knowledge? Something like that is earned through life. ”

Her tone wasn’t condemning nor was it accusatory. She was merely expressing curiosity. She couldn’t begin to understand how a person could sell their soul for anything. It was something so personal and priceless. If anyone had a right to claim it, it was the Deity of Making. At least, that’s how she saw it. To each their own, however.

Annalise could feed off of him. How did she feed off him? What was it her grandmother had told her about the succubus? When the information surfaced, she hastily looked away from Lucas. Okay, that was more information than she wanted. Something inside her stirred and it wasn’t something pretty or sweet. That, by itself, made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t even going to think about why.

 

[dryfter]

A tome. A cross. A...catacomb door? That was far too suggestive of further undead in his future for his liking. And if that was the case, than he could only hope Corcoran was in his future as well. Lucas hadn't been kidding about being ill equipped to deal with that type of paranormal.....well.....at least the ethereal kind. The undead with corpereal bodies had shown time and time again a vulnerability to fire......

And Annalise did fire quite well.

"Tome, yet not a book, not a bible....or else you would have said as much. I'm guessing you didn't see the cross actually on this tome."

Lucas frowned softly, "Speaking of which, did you bring in that large tome of your grandmother's? Or is it still sitting on the shop counter. I just figured I'd remind you before you misplaced something valuable to you again."

He mused, half to himself, but completely aloud, "A tome, a cross, catacombs"

His fingers drummed softly against the surface of the table, his ever alert gaze not missing how her hands shook as Mirela reached for her cup once more.

"Undead. Or tomb crawling I suppose. But then why bring Corcoran? The cross has to be suggesting that. And the tome....I'm guessing.....is you."

He let that linger in the air until even Annalise shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed.

"You have the Sight, and you have divination skills to be sure, though like you say....they are untrained. Personally, I think you've just done a rather spectacular job."

He retrieved his own cup....gazing into the bottom just as intently as she had a moment ago.

"Because I don't see any of it. Then again, my specialty is demonology, not divination. I'd like to test you on a manner of other things if you don't mind. When you're not busy running your shop of course. You can refuse if you choose to, of course.....but given some of granny's old warnings she seems to have left you with, don't you think it better to equip yourself now that you know the world isn't quite what it seems?"

He let her think about it for a moment and come to her own conclusions.

"Thratum"

A single word, yet every bulb, every candle in the room suddenly dimmed. Not enough to go out, but enough to enshroud the small living room in shadow.

"Of course, one doesn't always need Sight if that same person knows how to look at things. Illusions can only do so much for example."

He watched and waited. It was a very subtle comment to make, so of course it would take her a bit to figure it out. Lucas had no doubts however, that she would.

Sure enough, a split second later, and the shopkeeper was staring inquisitively at the lovely blonde behind him, who herself.....looked more than a little confused at the sudden attention. Then again....Annalise wasn't the kind to notice how the shadows playing about her showed off the distinct outline of her wings against the far wall.....or the thin, snaking, diamond tipped tail that weaved unseen....its shadow almost like smoke rising......

"Lovely, you do see it. Seeing is important in this day and age. I'd wager with your stock you keep in the store, not all of your customers here are human. Wouldn't surprise me at all."

At least she hadn't looked too surprised at his scarring. But neither did she look too terribly happy about it either. Was this getting to be just a little too much for her all at once?

“I see. I can’t claim to understand any of this but why in hell would you do such a thing? Why would you give up your soul to a demoness? What did you get out of this deal? And why would you give her your power, your knowledge? Something like that is earned through life. ”

"Oh I don't get his knowledge. Something like that can only be gained through actual learning."

So Annalise was still paying attention. The warlock hastened to get in his own words edgewise before his pet could make Mirela more uncomfortable than she already appeared.

"Power. Something as simple as that. But to be more specific, the power to make a difference. Humans go through their day to day lives without ever being the wiser. Some are taken advantage of, others are made fun of....harassed, while others are outright abused."

A soft squeal behind him made him chuckle softly. Annalise had finally noticed her shadow and was responding with an appropriate amount of alarm.

"I help solve problems people can't solve on their own. And I use power that even the most arrogant paranormal won't laugh at. I've demonstrated as much, yes? And you've not even seen my combat spells yet. Not that they're much to look at....I'm no wizard. But having a full fledged demoness at my disposal is enough to make most opponents pause."

The wry smile cracked open further, his perfect pearly whites on display for her as he smiled wide for perhaps the first time in her presence.

"And before you get to worrying about my soul. Annalise very graciously included a clause in our contract. If I provide her with one hundred souls to devour, she will relinquish mine."

"I won't need it anymore. I'll be able to evolve without it. Then when I do go back to Hell, I won't have to be somebody's breeding slut. I'll lop off the first demon cock that thinks its going to get something from me for free."

That brought about a short round of laughter, as both women looked at him.

"Annalise will be a Succubus Queen. An extremely advanced version of her current self....and one most male demons will do about anything to veer away from. Of course, she'll still be under my contract and duty bound to serve me."

The proclaimed succubus simply shrugged, "So what? You might be a warlock, Lucas....but you're still mortal. You have what? Fifty years to go? Sixty? Then I can piss on your rotting corpse and let your pretty little soul fly free to whatever level of Hell is reserved for mortals who like to fuck naughty little demon girls. That time is nothing to me. I'm immortal."

A nasty grin split those full, pouty lips as she caught their host staring just a little too long.

"That's right, Miss Mirela, I'm going to outlive you too. The only thing that remains to be seen is just how much power I'm going to get out of Lucas before our contract is up."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

"Tome, yet not a book, not a bible....or else you would have said as much. I'm guessing you didn't see the cross actually on this tome."

Mirela shook her head.

“No. The cross was its own entity. It wasn’t embossed on the tome. I brought my grandmother's book with me. It’s over there on the kitchen counter. I didn't want to leave it lying around. There's a great deal contained in it that shouldn't fall into the wrong hands.”

She watched him processing the information she gave him and sipped from her cup. Her hands eventually grew steady.

"Undead. Or tomb crawling I suppose. But then why bring Corcoran? The cross has to be suggesting that. And the tome....I'm guessing.....is you."

She shrugged, “The cross could mean anything, I suppose. If I understand right, that’s the problem with the Sight, sometimes it’s not as clear cut as one would think. What we see could be merely a hint to something else. Then again, it can be crystal clear.”

"Because I don't see any of it. Then again, my specialty is demonology, not divination. I'd like to test you on a manner of other things if you don't mind. When you're not busy running your shop of course. You can refuse if you choose to, of course.....but given some of granny's old warnings she seems to have left you with, don't you think it better to equip yourself now that you know the world isn't quite what it seems?"

She sighed inwardly. Mirela was unsure about all this poking and testing. It was like waking a sleeping bear. All these years her “gift” had lain quiet and in one day, it had been awakened by a warlock and his pet succubus. To be fair, Annalise played only a very small part in it. But still. Did she really have a choice at all now? He had cracked open the door and she was intelligent to realize there was no turning back. He spoke a single word and the light in the room dimmed. Mirela’s fingers tightened around the teacup.

"Of course, one doesn't always need Sight if that same person knows how to look at things. Illusions can only do so much for example."

Illusions? She frowned. Her eyes settled on him. Did Lucas have a reason to cast an illusion? No. Wait. Not Lucas…

Her eyes shifted to Annalise. The succubus. She let her eyes soften. Granny always said if you looked too hard at something, you missed the obvious. It took a bit but then she saw it. The outline on the wall behind her. Wings and a tail.

"Lovely, you do see it. Seeing is important in this day and age. I'd wager with your stock you keep in the store, not all of your customers here are human. Wouldn't surprise me at all."

He knew! Her eyes came back to his face. He knew she saw it. Was she such an easy read then? She was going to have to work on that.

"Oh I don't get his knowledge. Something like that can only be gained through actual learning."

Mirela’s lips parted to speak but Annalise wasn’t done yet.

"Power. Something as simple as that. But to be more specific, the power to make a difference. Humans go through their day to day lives without ever being the wiser. Some are taken advantage of, others are made fun of....harassed, while others are outright abused."

“I don’t claim to be an expert at all, but with power, comes knowledge. Maybe not all of it, but some. The two are inseparable to some degree, I would think,” she shrugged, “or I could be wrong. Like I said, I’m too new to this.”

"I help solve problems people can't solve on their own. And I use power that even the most arrogant paranormal won't laugh at. I've demonstrated as much, yes? And you've not even seen my combat spells yet. Not that they're much to look at....I'm no wizard. But having a full fledged demoness at my disposal is enough to make most opponents pause. And before you get to worrying about my soul. Annalise very graciously included a clause in our contract. If I provide her with one hundred souls to devour, she will relinquish mine."

Mirela’s lips twisted into a wry grin.

“How noble of her. How many more souls do you have left to provide her with? If that’s not too personal to ask.”

"I won't need it anymore. I'll be able to evolve without it. Then when I do go back to Hell, I won't have to be somebody's breeding slut. I'll lop off the first demon cock that thinks its going to get something from me for free."

The succubus chimed in. Lucas laughed, making the both turn their heads to look at him.

"Annalise will be a Succubus Queen. An extremely advanced version of her current self....and one most male demons will do about anything to veer away from. Of course, she'll still be under my contract and duty bound to serve me."

"So what? You might be a warlock, Lucas....but you're still mortal. You have what? Fifty years to go? Sixty? Then I can piss on your rotting corpse and let your pretty little soul fly free to whatever level of Hell is reserved for mortals who like to fuck naughty little demon girls. That time is nothing to me. I'm immortal."

Mirela listened to the exchange between master and pet, wondering if all warlocks got a succubus or if it had been Lucas’ choice to summon one. Her eyes meandered over Annalise, who oozed sexuality and came to the conclusion that a warlock would be foolish not to. Hell, here he had everything he could possibly want. Something sexy to fuck whenever he deemed or she when she needed to siphon off some of his energy and he didn't have to worry about her killing him. They both got something out of the bargain. That had to be bonus. She shuttered her thoughts from both of them and got to her feet hastily.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll go get you a check for what I owe you, Lucas.”

Setting the teacup on the table, she hurried from the room and slipped into an adjoining room, her bedroom. She left the door open as she sat down at her desk to write out a check. Her head was beginning to ache. It was trying to process too much at once. Was Lucas right? How many of her patrons where under illusion and weren’t human after all? Was that even possible? Putting pen to paper, she wrote out the check to him, leaving the amount blank for the moment. Taking check and pen back into the other room, she perched on the edge of the couch and asked him….

“So, how much do I owe you in total, Lucas? And I want to take a moment to thank you, for everything you’ve done. Getting rid of my visitor is welcomed relief. At least I can go to bed at night and not have to worry that unseen hands are going to pester me. “

 

[dryfter]

“So, how much do I owe you in total, Lucas? And I want to take a moment to thank you, for everything you’ve done. Getting rid of my visitor is welcomed relief. At least I can go to bed at night and not have to worry that unseen hands are going to pester me. “

"Just the afformentioned fee, Miss Mirela.....minus the cost of the tea and incense that caught my eye of course."

He watched her carefully. Something had changed in her demeanor, and suddenly it was almost as if she were hurrying them along now that the situation had calmed down. Had he said too much? It was a lot for any one person to absorb after all.

"We make you uncomfortable."

It wasn't a question, and for a moment the pen signing the check hesitated.

"Completely understandable. Not many would knowingly want a demon and her master within their home."

He was putting his glove back on, the skin tight leather stretching nicely over his thin fingers and finally obscuring his scar once more.

"However, you show talent. I would suggest you find training for your talents, but you wouldn't listen to any suggestion of the sort anyway. In the end, like everyone else who displays potential, it must be your decision whether to further yourself in that direction or not."

The newly gloved hand reached silently to accept the slip of paper she offered him.

"There are many types of magic, and while mine is considered forbidden or taboo by some.....others, like Corcoran.....have found that how said power is used is what really matters. If you ever feel the need to find out more about your latent abilities, and exactly what you can do with them....."

The warlock stood up with a tired smile, exhausted, but at least not wobbly and ready to collapse like before.

"You know where my office is."

He slid from behind the table she had seated him at, and gingerly made his way to the door with Annalise in tow.

"One other thing. Please do not think my contract is anything other than business. It will make any future dealings with myself and Annalise that much easier for you. Then again, we might never meet again.....but I felt you should know."

------------------------------------------------------

The paperwork had been ridiculous. Every wizard in town had detected a high level spell and more than one had come looking for who had cast the magic. Most of which had turned away in disgust when the perpetrator had become known. Still....Lucas had finally completed his report, and could relax now that he had Annalise dropping it off for him at the local police station.....under explicit orders to not steal any souls of the men there of course. The one good thing about having a contract with her.....it rendered that naughty little pout of hers that she used to charm so many, useless against him. It was almost to the point that she didn't even try anymore. Perhaps there was a God.

Sitting behind his desk now, the warlock sighed softly as fresh cup of tea was set before him. He hadn't even consciously realized that he had closed his eyes when he leaned back in the chair, until the gentle sound brought him back to reality and forced them open once more to look upon the green skinned face and yellowish tusks of the tea's bearer.

"Thrusk."

The orc nodded softly, unusually quiet for one of its kind, choosing to take a step back rather than immediately engage in conversation. The man wore a tight fitting, pressed butler's outfit that suited him well except for where the sleeves had to be torn off to accommodate the swell of muscle.

"Has everything gone well?"

A simple nod and a very orc-like grunt.

"Good, I was hoping you'd take to your accommodations. Needless to say, you should find some modicum of peace here, away from the warring of your people's clans."

A sly smile and more silence was his only response. Lucas reached for the steaming cup, raising it to his lips after only a brief appreciation of its heady aroma.

"Ahhhh....the blend we got from Miss Mirela, yes? Excellent. Have you tried it yourself?"

The butler looked shocked for a moment that he would even suggest such a thing. Chuckling softly, Lucas set down his cup and stood.

"Come then, let's get you a cup for yourself. Do take care to not break it on your tusks however."

"I stayed downstairs because I don't like that woman."

The warlock knew he wasn't referring to their past client. He had shown an amazing resilience to charm magic, one that frustrated Annalise to no end....but there was something to be said about the succubus' willingness to take up a challenge.

"Ahhh yes, well she's gone on an errand now. I was just thinking of Miss Mirela. The smell of her shop....the smell of her hair.....she's quite beautiful, you know? Talented too, in such a raw manner."

Thrusk merely grunted, squinting as he watched Lucas pour another small cup of tea.

"I do hope we'll see her again. But I believe we will."

The orc glanced up at him.....looking comical as it raised the delicate cup to its brutish face. Yet the warlock did an admirable job of keeping a straight face. It wouldn't do to offend his butler.....

"And why is that.....sir?"

The warlock smiled just a little, pleased that his servant was becoming more talkative, a sure sign that he too....approved of the tea. The more relaxed Thrusk became, the more the man tended to chat.

"Because......there was a tome along with the cross and the catacombs."

This time he couldn't help but chuckle as he was met with a puzzled stare. Yet Lucas was in no further mood to elaborate....merely stepping past the bulky form of his manservant.....and returning to his desk, his tea, and his thoughts of her.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

"We make you uncomfortable. Completely understandable. Not many would knowingly want a demon and her master within their home."

The pen she was using to scribble in the amount for the check, paused. She glanced up at Lucas, sighed, then sat up straighter.

“Yes. I mean no. You don’t make me uncomfortable. Well, yes, maybe a little but only because it seems like you woke my talents. I make myself uncomfortable, really. Can you even begin to understand how thinking you are just a normal human being without any latent abilities, a mutant in the gene pool in the Family, then to learn, rather unexpectantly and abruptly, that you aren’t such a mutant after all, merely….slow.”

Impulsively, she reached out a hand, touching the back of his after he had donned his glove again. Her hand tingled until she pulled away again. Odd. Was it symbol on the back of his hand or was it the man himself that caused that? She wasn’t sure.

"However, you show talent. I would suggest you find training for your talents, but you wouldn't listen to any suggestion of the sort anyway. In the end, like everyone else who displays potential, it must be your decision whether to further yourself in that direction or not."

She gave him a strange look then her eyes showed neutrality.

“You surprise me, Mr. Viernes,” yes, dammit, she reverted back to the formal, “I’m surprised because given who you are, I truly expected you not to jump to any conclusions yourself. Apparently, I was mistaken.”

She finished writing in the amount and held out the check to him. He reached out and gently took it from her.

"There are many types of magic, and while mine is considered forbidden or taboo by some.....others, like Corcoran.....have found that how said power is used is what really matters. If you ever feel the need to find out more about your latent abilities, and exactly what you can do with them..... You know where my office is.”

He got to his feet and she did as well. She followed him and Annalise to the door and went with them to the shop beyond. He turned in the doorway.

"One other thing. Please do not think my contract is anything other than business. It will make any future dealings with myself and Annalise that much easier for you. Then again, we might never meet again.....but I felt you should know."

She stared at him incredulously. She stared out the door for a long moment after he and his demon pet had disappeared. Oh, he did not think she…. Of all the …..

Mirela closed the door quietly, turned, glancing around her small little shop. Everything looked like it always had. She shook her head slightly, wandering back into her private apartment, closing that door just as softly behind her. Alone once again, she had the grace to blush.

~~ ~~​

Business continued as normal as possible. The exception was that now, she looked at each of her patrons and by the stars, Lucas was right. There were a few of her patrons who weren’t human. Mrs. O’Landry was a troll. Who would have thought it? She found herself staring after the woman, who had conducted her business in Mirela’s shop and gave the pretty owner a wink just before she bustled out the door. Then there was Miss Copperpenny who bought a book and her usual monthly supply of incense. The cheery brunette was an orc. Mr. Sedrick Dallyfield was a vampire. There were plenty of human customers too. Mirela’s lips twitched humorously. She wondered what the humans would do if they had known that those they chatted with in the shop were sometimes not human.

As the holiday season came into full swing, Mirela was extremely busy but her mind wandered from time to time toward Lucas. No matter what he had told her before he left, her mind kept hearing Annalise’s words….. "... I can piss on your rotting corpse and let your pretty little soul fly free to whatever level of Hell is reserved for mortals who like to fuck naughty little demon girls."

Business, my ass.

The small bells on the door jingled and Mirela looked up from the stock she was replenishing. A man of the church stepped inside, closing the door behind him before he looked around. His eyes fell on Mirela and she shivered as if violently, suddenly, cold. He was a tall, thin man with piercing blue eyes that seemed… well, dead. There was no emotion in them whatsoever. He moved across the room as if with a purpose, stopping at the bookshelf and scanning it before long, thin fingers reached out to retrieve one of the books there. He opened it, letting the pages slide through his fingers before he turned to a young pretty redhead who was also looking at book. He leaned closer and asked her question. She smiled. Then she replied. Her eyes were raptly on his hawk-like facial features. His own look was intense. Now and then, those blue eyes flickered around the room but they returned to the delicate beauty at his side. Eventually, they left together, the preacher’s hand under the girl’s arm as he escorted her out of the shop. He hadn’t bought anything. Neither had she. Mirela felt anxious when they left. She wasn’t sure why at the time. She shrugged off the feeling and finished stocking her shelves.

Seven days later, early in the morning before the shop opened, she wandered out the front door of the shop to retrieve the morning paper. Closing the door behind her, she started back toward her apartment, idly unfolding the newspaper and reading the morning’s headlines. Mirela’s heart stopped, than frantically took up pace again.

No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

But it was. The young girl from her shop earlier. The redhead. She was found floating in the river. Her body was marred with cuts and bruises. She had been sexually assaulted as well. Dread rolled down Mirela’s spine as she blindly groped for the phone.

“Hello? Annalise? This is Mirela Karoli. I need to see Lucas right away…. No. No, I’m fine….. This is something altogether different…..Um, yes, that would be fine. Tomorrow morning will do, I suppose….. thank you, Annalise.”

Mirela hung up the phone and sat down, still staring at the picture of the lovely girl who had been in her shop days before and at the picture right next to it that showed a body bag being carried to the coroner’s van. This was not happening. Maybe I’m just imagining it. But what if she wasn’t? What if that preacher was connected to this somehow. Who would believe her?

~~ ~~​

The door creaked open. She poked her head inside.

“Annalise? Lucas? Hello?”

Mirela stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Annalise came around the corner bearing a cup of tea. She stopped when she saw Mirela.

“Oh hello, lovely. I was just getting Lucas a cup of tea. Shall I fetch one for you too? Follow me. He’s expecting you.”

The busty blonde led the way. Mirela absentmindedly noted the sway of her hips and casually wished she was as curvy and had a sway like that.

“Lucas, Mirela is here.”

Mirela stepped around Annalise. Her dark eyes looked troubled as she regarded the man behind the desk.

“Lucas, I think we have a problem and I hope to hell you can tell me I’m imaging things.”