[FFML] [orig][lime] Lovestruck:Seven Days Chapter 2 Part 2

***I told you guys this was a long chapter... Sorry! And there's still more... When the whole chapter is up, we welcome suggestions for dividing it better... and in the meantime, C&C is always welcome! We've received a lot of compliments privately from some of you, and we really appreciate them! Thank you all for taking the time to read this one! We're looking forward to your comments, and really guys, please feel free to!***

Mephistopheles glanced around the apartment, feeling the faintest echo of remorse. It was dingy, dusty and the little bit of light that came through the dust-encrusted windows did little to improve its appearance, but if he knew his best agent, it had not always been so. Yesterday, it had probably appeared a hundred times as large, and been impeccably neat, a lavish plush den suitable for lusty debauchery. The old rusted bed frame had probably been an oaken four post bed, perfect for bedtime sport. The cracked bathtub had probably been a spa filled with crystal water that flowed from golden faucets...

No, not clear, he thought. Bubbles... He smiled as he imagined those fine white breasts, their lush pink nipples bobbing at the waterline, laced in bubbles... But, time for those thoughts later. He had work to do.

He began searching the apartment, unceremoniously dumping and overturning the bed, the dresser, the closet... anything he could find, looking for clues to where the succubus might have gone to ground. In the process, the Demon Lord caught an item from his belt on a doorknob and it fell to the chipped concrete of the floor with a clear chime like a bell. He reached down and retrieved the silver hoop, tarnished nearly black, and stroked it fondly, reminiscing...

The entrance door slammed open, startling him into dropping the metal ring. It rolled across the floor and clattered to a halt against the far wall.

He looked up at the young girl who'd just entered so dramatically, taking in the knee-high blue leather boots, the lithe shapely body, the arsenal. He would have given nearly anything to have a way past that titanium chastity set she wore, but he never would, and he knew that trying would be his death. She was pure for a reason he feared as much as he desired, a reason not even his master Lucifer would cross lightly. She was the ultimate prize for the Lord of Temptation, the one woman pure enough to have born the Son of God... the Queen of Heaven... the Virgin.

"Mary," he said, his voice conveying disgust, but he couldn't hide the fear and desire he felt for her.

"Well, hello Mephie," she cooed, knowing how much he hated the nickname. She played with the keyless padlock that sealed her metal halter top. The small lock swung back and forth with a hypnotic rhythm between her shapely breasts. "You get manlier every time I see you."

He took a step back. "Don't try to vamp me, Virgin. Yours is one maidenhood I'd rather not claim," he lied.

Mary sauntered up to him and looked into his eyes with a sultry look. "But Mephie, you know how much I want you." Her hand casually cupped his crotch as she purred. "And you know you want me... It's not like my husband cares..."

The Demon Lord felt his loins starting to betray him, visions of Mary chained to a bed, nude, begging him to come and give her release playing across his mind. She was beyond any Angel, any being he had ever taken... perfection personified... He could almost feel her wings as they closed around him, forcing him down on her in her hunger... He could almost feel the ecstasy of plunging himself into her virginal body...

He pushed her and his fantasy away.

"I said forget it," he growled. "The Creator claimed you, and He would find out and we'd both pay... The G.O.D. may rule Heaven, but He rules you. I have no wish to suddenly cease to exist." He crossed his arms. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Mary laughed, "Why Mephie... I'm crushed. You wouldn't brave non-existence for..." She pulled her trench wide and inhaled. "Me?"

Mephistopheles closed his eyes to keep from being driven to an attempt he was sure to suffer for.

"Just answer the question,"

If only she was serious and not just trying to lead me to my own destruction... the back of his mind whimpered.

Mary stepped back, the glint in her eye telling him that he may have won this round, but she was confident of getting him in the end. "I heard an Angel had Fallen, and was captured by a Succubus who lived here. I came to either free her and slay her captors, or kill them all if she had already been corrupted." She paused and looked around the apartment. "One may ask why you are here as well. Hoping to soil another angel?"

"I was. However, as you can see, there is no angel here."

The steely gaze she fixed him with left no doubt what she would have done to him if she had caught him defiling the Angel, Demon Lord or not. "So it seems." she said in an icy voice.

"Now, now Mary, you know the rules. I'm not a valid target. Hell needs a Lord of Temptation. I'm just doing my job."

The look she gave him would have frosted the Lake of Fire.

"Oh, please," she snorted. "As if there aren't a hundred other demons, lined up to take your place."

Mephistopheles decided cowardice was the better part of valor and that leaving the apartment to Mary was a wise idea. "I suppose I should be going now," he said as he began to fade into teleport.

"You're up to something Mephie. What?" Mary asked, her arms crossed.

"I would stay to chat..." His words faded as he did. "But Bhaalor's..." His last words were lost as he vanished.

Bhaalors? She thought. As in more than one?

She glanced around the apartment, trying to figure out what Mephistopheles had been searching for. Her eyes fell on the tarnished circlet. Her eyes hardened as a corona of silver fire flared around her, and she strode over to pick it up.

It was, or rather, had been, a silver halo.

Her corona flared even brighter as she hissed, "You fuckers will pay for defiling an angel." She clutched the circlet tightly.

Suddenly, the apartment was filled with the roar of an inferno. Mary leaped to a standing position, her free hand drawing forth the Desert Eagle from her hip holster. The smell of brimstone was heavy in the air as six demons appeared, armed to the teeth. With a start, Mary realized what Mephistopheles had meant.

"Well, well. Bhaalor's minions. How sweet. A welcoming committee for little old me?"

"Ah shit! It's the Iron Virgin!" one of the demons exclaimed.

"No matter!" The leader yelled. "There's only one of her and six of us!" He gulped as Mary's pistol spoke and one of his subordinates' head exploded. "Umm... make that five of us."

"Blessed bullets," Mary announced. "I've noticed your kind has an extreme allergy to them."

"You don't scare me, bitch!" the leader called, then looked at his subordinates. "Get her!"

As they lunged for her, Mary leaped up and grabbed on the chandelier, releasing a spray of gunfire into the demons below. She hit another one dead between the eyes, and grazed the arm of a third, the halo dangling from her wrist like an oversized bangle. She got off another round, but missed as the chandelier gave and she fell towards the waiting maws of the demons...

******

Lipton checked the address, then he checked it again, then a third time.

"This can't be right," he muttered. "I've seen nicer crack houses."

But the numbers matched and there was nowhere else on the corner it could be. The building looked like a converted warehouse, fairly common in New York, and in typical New York contrast, it was just off a street full of high rent high-rises. He supposed that in the dark, the fact that the block was deserted of all but derelicts might not be noticeable. A succubus could drain a man to a dry husk back here and the body would never be found.

He unpacked the twelve gage from his trunk to be on the safe side, double-checking to make sure the symbol laden slugs were still loaded. Blessed ammo, like all his guns, custom made for him by a friend who was a young priest and warded against evil with everything the Jesuit could dig out of the Catholic texts on exorcism. Never hurt to be cautious. He tucked a box of the slugs into his trench as well.

He kicked open the door, checking the hall beyond for demonic ambushers. When none made an appearance, he stepped inside. The hallway extended to a freight elevator, the doors to several apartments leading off. He tried the elevator, the noiseless ascension surprising him. The eerie silence of the building would have convinced him the place was deserted, but the sounds of gunfire upon his arrival at the top floor let him know otherwise.

He made his way cautiously across the high ceiling area around the elevator over to the door through which the sounds had issued, completely unsurprised it was the succubus's apartment. He peered in the doorway, shotgun ready, then stepped into the room, his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

Three demons had gathered around a figure of feminine proportions. Two of them held the girl pinned while the third seemed to be tugging and slashing at the metal bikini bottoms the girl wore. His talons were leaving no mark on the metal, and even though his claws were making small scratches, they barely marked the girl either.

Suddenly, the faint silver nimbus around her flared. Her foot lashed out with a kick that buried the bladed heel of her boot into the crotch of the demon trying to remove her bottoms. The force of the kick viciously ripped the blade back out as the demon was flung across the room. He howled in fury and pain as she brought her arms together and slammed the others' heads together. They fell back dazed. In a whirl, she retrieved her Desert Eagle and rolled to her feet, allowing Lipton his first really good look at her. He nearly fainted in shock. He wasn't given to being easily impressed, but she was an awe-inspiring sight.

Silver fire burned around her like a candle flame flickering in a gale, illuminating the dark hair which flew about under the blue veil that covered the back of her head. Above the veil, an ornate golden halo crowned her, nearly blinding in its brilliance, the rays of light streaming from it illuminating the demons starkly. Her body was lithe and voluptuous, athletically formed and covered only by the minimal metal halter top and bikini. She had an ornate crowned dagger strapped to her right calf. Twin holsters on her hips held the Desert Eagles, while a pair of nines rested in the shoulder rig. Over her groin, and on both breast plates, was a symbol Lipton had seen many times, the two Greek letters Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. Her face was young; Lipton would normally have estimated her to be only about thirteen, but he knew she was much older, and none of the thousands of pictures he had ever seen of her came close to the reality. And he doubted that anyone would ever have envisioned her with the bloodlust he saw in her eyes.

She fired a shot at the demon whose crotch she'd mutilated, his head exploding into so many bloody chunks, then she kicked at the one charging her from the left. He flew back, his face bleeding from where her heel had caught him, and she drew a bead on him. The third stepped quietly behind her, ruddy flames flickering along the blade he swung to decapitate her.

Lipton's shotgun kicked in his hand a second after the girl had fired, her bullet caving in her target's face. She whirled to see the last demon's corpse collapsing, most of his upper torso gone from the twin twelve-gage slugs. She looked at Lipton, her eyes blazing. "I had him covered!"

"Sure," Lipton said sarcastically. "I noticed."

For a second, the silver aura flared, tracing the pattern of glorious wings. It faded as she holstered the pistol with a huff, her halo fading to a simple gold circlet of light. "What the fuck do you know anyway. You're just a stupid cop," she muttered.

"Well, I can see we're just a two thousand year old bitch, aren't we?" Lipton responded angrily. "One wonders how you ever got the reputation for being merciful or forgiving."

"Excuse me?" She'd frozen in surprise and was staring at him. "You know who I am?"

"Lady, I've seen a lot of pictures of you. None of them did you justice," he looked her up and down appraisingly. "Sure as hell none of them ever captured this side of you."

"Artists have their visions. I'm under no obligation to live up to them." She cocked her hands on her hips and looked at him saucily. "Still, I think Michelangelo captured me best."

"What, a mother mourning her son?"

"No. A girl never allowed to blossom into womanhood," she plucked at the metal bikini. "My husband played a rather nasty trick on me."

Lipton gave her the eye. "I have bolt cutters in the car."

Mary laughed. "I think I like you, Detective Lipton. Not many people with the Sight actually treat me like a person. It's refreshing. But I'm afraid bolt cutters won't work. Believe me, I've tried everything. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is being forever a hormonally-overloaded thirteen year old when you can't even get yourself off?"

"Umm... well, I suppose that could account for the psychotic look in your eyes a few moments ago,"

Mary gave voice to a full throated laugh. "No, Lipton. That's from two thousand years of devout Catholics whining at me to do something for them. After a thousand years of that, I got very fed up." She smiled coquettishly. "You don't think that's unwomanly of me, do you?"

Lipton grinned. "Not at all." He gave her another look. "In fact, I'd have to say I'd probably be the same way in your shoes." He looked at the wicked blades on Mary's boots again. "Not that I'd ever fit in your shoes, that is."

Mary sat down on a dusty easy chair, displaying herself to good advantage. "So tell me, Detective. What brings you here?" Her voice was sultry.

Lipton swallowed hard. "Umm... I came to search the place."

Mary gave him a half lidded gaze. "So... why don't you?" Her voice left no doubt that she included herself in things to be searched. She toyed with an oversized hoop of tarnished silver around her wrist.

Lipton backed up a step. "Ummm... actually, I can come back. Why don't we go for a slice of pizza, and you can tell me why the Madonna is in a Succubus's lair."

She gave a disappointed pout. "Ok... Pizza and an explanation... but only if you tell me how you knew a succubus lived here." She stood and sauntered to the door, picking up her trench coat from where the demons had thrown it. Lipton followed her, bemused by the weirdness of it all.

"Pizza with the Virgin Mary," he muttered. "Won't my Catholic friends be so impressed..."

******

"Are you sure this is the place?" Heart asked, looking up at the gothic facade of the three story building Seraph had parked in front of. "This place looks so intimidating, and..." She paused long enough to scrape a wad of bubblegum from the bottom of her shoe. "...kinda dirty."

"That's just out here, Beloved. It's kept low key for a reason. It's much nicer inside." She looked around, noting that at least the exterior had been kept properly. No garish neon or tasteless ads, just the same old bronze plaque bearing the name "Dante."

"Come on," she urged Heart as she headed for the massive double doors, solid oak slabs bearing a carved impression of an ornate double ended trident that looked suspiciously like Seraph's own.

"You said you could definitely get a job here?" Heart asked, following her timidly.

"Oh, definitely," Seraph said, opening the door for Heart. "I'm the reason Club Dante exists."

"Okay, if you're sure," Heart said as she entered and stopped.

"You worry too much, Love," Seraph laughed as she stepped around Heart and vanished through a curtain into the interior, leaving Heart alone in the antechamber.

Heart took a deep breath, and told herself it was only a room. No matter that the red lights overhead illuminated stark murals of the River Styx, or that the curtains of red and yellow streamers over the two doors to the main room gave the uncanny impression of being walls of flame, or that the marble floor was inlaid with a copy of the club's logo trident surrounded by Dante's most famous quote, it was not the Gate to Hell.

It just looked like it.

Heart took an involuntary step back. What she stepped into was not the exit door as she had been expecting. It was tall, and hard, and it had its arms crossed sternly. Heart let out a small cry and whirled around.

Facing her, muscles bulging against his tight tee shirt, was a man every bit as tall as Seraph. His arms were as thick as an average human's thigh, and his legs were like tree trunks growing from his hips. His thick beard was trim, neat and as blonde as his streaming hair. His face bore the unmistakable stamp of Nordic ancestry, his square jaw and strong cheeks giving him a look of stern dignity. His ice blue eyes gazed down at Heart scoldingly.

"You the owner of the Corvette parked outside?" he demanded, his deep booming voice carrying a rumbling undertone like distant thunder.

"Umm... no... my friend is," Heart said lamely.

"Well, your 'friend' needs to move it," the big man snapped. "It's blocking our liquor delivery. We can't have that now, can we?" He cocked his head to one side and gave her an appraising look, giving Heart the distinct impression he was stripping her in his mind. "Say. You're a cutie. You new talent come to try out?"

"Umm... no... my friend is," Heart felt like a broken record.

"You should try out too. The slobs who frequent this place would go apeshit over a beauty like you. I can see it now-" He unfolded his arms to size up the marquee in his mind. "Club Dante's very own dancing angel." He interrupted his daydream to ask her "What's your name again?"

"Heart," Heart said, backing up at the word Angel.

"Heart," he smiled. "That fits. You a Dominion or a Virtue?"

"A Virt-" She broke off in shock. "How- how did-"

"You angels are the only ones with those cockamamie halos."

Heart straightened her halo self consciously.

The big man laughed. "Ah, don't take it personally. I think yours is kinda cute. And the pink glasses are a nice touch." He stuck out his hand. "My name's Thor."

Heart shook it lightly. "Like the Norse myth?"

Thor looked amused. "No," he said jovially. "Like Thor Odinson. God of Thunder."

Heart looked at him pityingly. "The Norse gods are a myth."

"Now who told you that?" Thor still looked amused.

"My... my superiors," Heart said, knowing in retrospect how lame that sounded.

Thor nodded. "The G.O.D. has gotten pretty good at denying reality over the centuries. No, young Heart. The Norse Pantheon is no myth, anymore than the Greek or Egyptian. Not many of us live in Asgard these days though. Your superiors' tactics of attacking our followers and their faith is rather effective. I didn't feel like surrendering to their dictatorship, so here I am. Bouncing in a tittie bar in Manhattan." He shrugged. "It's a living."

"A- a 'tittie bar'?" Heart looked confused. "But Seraph called it a 'strip club'."

Thor laughed even harder this time. "Poor little angel. You need to get used to living in this plane. The humans call places like this a tittie bar, a strip club, a dance joint, even a gentleman's club. It's all the same place, a bar where women dance naked for money."

"And men pay for that?"

Thor nodded. "Pretty good too. This place is classier than most, so it attracts the well-to-do set. The girls here can take home five to six grand a night. Some girls try for years to get a gig here, but the boss has standards. I'll say this for Miss Darkfell, she may never stop by, but she makes sure the girls are taken care of." His paused, his brow wrinkling. "You know, your kind usually comes by here to cause trouble. I really hope that's not true in your case. I'd really hate to snap that lovely little neck of yours." He stepped closer, looming over Heart.

She stepped back, alarmed. "M-miss Darkfell?" She stammered. "B-but that's who I'm here with!" She didn't like the look in his eyes.

"You?" Thor shook his head. "No way." He continued advancing.

Heart stepped back again. She could feel the blowing ribbons against her back, and the air from the fans was hot and dry. She realized she might have to do something to keep the huge man from carrying out his threat, and she reached into her purse, grasping the smooth wood of her sword's hilt. "You've never even met Seraph Darkfell, have you!"

Thor shrugged. "I doubt you have either, or you wouldn't be claiming to be her friend."

"That's not true! That's her car outside, and I came in here with her," Heart cried. "Why won't you believe me?"

Thor looked uncertain for a minute, then shook his head. "You know, it's really not like an Angel to lie," he said, anger in his voice.

"I'm not lying!"

"You really expect me to believe an angel is going to hang out with a succubus?" He grinned ferally. "No. I don't think so." He reached for her.

Heart stepped back, realizing too late that she'd stepped through the curtain. She drew her sword and held it at the ready, fearfully eyeing the flickering wall of pseudo-flame...

******

Seraph strode purposefully towards one of the bars, her eyes taking in all the old familiar sights: the large overhead dome painted to look like the roof of Hell, grinning demon faces glaring down from nooks and crannies; the plush flame-stitched carpet; the antique iron and glass tables; the vast three-pronged stage with its brass railing and sturdy brass poles. She was happy to see so much of her handiwork and planning had gone unchanged. True, the current manager had replaced the murals on the walls with mirrors, and all of the couches and chairs with cheap black leather that didn't match the rest of the decor at all, but it had been about thirty years since she had last been here. Still, she had thought Monty had had better taste.

She could remember how much fun she had had setting the place up in the Twenties, first as a speakeasy, then, after Prohibition, as a gentlemen's club. It was one of the oldest such clubs in the city, having had several managers over the years, but only ever one owner: Seraph Darkfell. She'd built the place with money John Jacob Astor had left to her following their affair on the Titanic. He'd handed her the bank draft as he made sure she had a place on one of the lifeboats, thanking her for a wonderful voyage, and insisting it was a gentlemen's duty to stay behind and allow as many of the women and children to leave as possible. She'd waited till he had left and gave her seat to a young black woman, winging off to try and get the desperate vessel aid. Unfortunately, she'd gotten lost in the fog...

She'd built the club in a style she thought he would have approved of, a mix of classical elegance and pure debauchery. The mirrors covered scenes which would have done her old home proud. She'd kept a low profile over the years, allowing her managers to have mostly free rein in running the club. She just checked occasionally to ensure that her share of the club's payroll made it into her Swiss account. She'd carefully overlooked the millions of dollars laundered every year by the syndicate she'd chosen to protect the place. They stayed low key as well and made sure no-one tried to muscle in on her ownership. It had been a mutually profitable arrangement and in all the years of the club's existence, it had never been raided.

She glanced around. A beefy bartender was wiping down the bar, a sour look on his face. A fat little man with a cigar sat at one of the tables, counting wads of bills and prepping the tills for the day. Neither was the man she sought.

The bartender spared her not even a glance when she approached.

"We're closed," he said abruptly as she stepped up to the bar.

"I know. I'm here to see Monty,"

"No Monty here,"

Seraph blinked in surprise. "He's the manager,"

"Look, lady. I don't know what bar you think you're in, but it ain't this

one. Ain't no Monty here." He turned his back on her.

"No. It's the right bar," Seraph said icily. "And when I find the current manager, you're fired."

The bartender threw a thumb over his shoulder at the fat man. "That's the manager, sweetheart. Go ahead and try to get me fired. I wish you the best of luck."

Seraph smirked as she approached the little man. She sat down at the table and cleared her throat. The little man looked up at her chest and wolf-whistled.

"Well, you're a tall one. Cute too. You here for a job?"

"Something like that," Seraph replied. "I'm looking for Monty Scorciano."

"Monty ain't here no more. He retired about eight years ago," he replied, his eyes never leaving her chest. Seraph smirked again and inhaled.

"Did you take over for him?"

"Yep,"

"And you are?"

"His nephew, Tony," the man replied, a sudden guarded look coming to his eyes.

"Ah," Seraph said in sudden recognition. She remembered Tony, a chubby child in the early Sixties who'd had a bad habit of grabbing the dancer's breasts. He'd grown up into an obese man with the same beady eyes and the same bad taste in clothes. She wondered if he still grabbed the dancer's breasts.

"Look, if he owes you money or something..." Tony began.

"No, he's been paying me just fine," Seraph replied with a wicked grin. "Surely he must have told you I would be back eventually to check on things?" she asked sweetly.

Tony's eyes widened. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Don't you remember me, Tony? I used to sneak you candy bars backstage," her voice held a teasing lilt.

"No way. You'd be geriatric by now."

"I age well," Seraph said coldly.

Tony's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yeah? Prove it," he said, though not without some reservation.

Seraph rose and motioned Tony to follow as she led the way to the manager's office. It was done in antiques, and from the dust, had obviously never been used by Tony. Of course not. Can't see the dancers from in here, she thought as she crossed the room to a large painting behind the oak desk. It showed a scene from Dante's Inferno, where the narrator had encountered the circle of the sin of lust. Seraph stared at the painting of the lovers Luciana and Paolo, thinking They were truly in love, only the G.O.D.'s Code made it a sin... So for love, they were damned... She shook her head and reached for the concealed latch. The picture frame swung away to reveal the wall safe. She spun the dial and opened it with a smile. Inside were several stacks of bills, over a quarter of a century old.

"Oh, cool. Extra cash," Seraph exclaimed.

"That safe is the property of this bar," Tony said uncertainly.

"I know," Seraph replied. "And-" She reached into her bosom and pulled out a key. She picked up the large iron box in the back of the safe and plopped it down on the ink blotter on the desk. Tony came over and looked on in interest as she used the key on the box.

Inside the box was a treasure trove of antiques: old photographs, newspaper clippings, and a thick file folder of paperwork. Seraph spread it all on the desk.

Tony Scorciano looked at the pile of pictures and newspaper clippings before him, his eyes wide and his jaw gaping. Here was a picture of Seraph, opening night, 1920. There was a picture of her on stage in the Fifties' idea of sexy lingerie, teasingly pulling off an elbow-length glove. And here was a picture of her and her crew, a young Monty Scorciano looking proud in a new tux...

"Wow... You did age well," he whispered.

Seraph smirked. "Told ya,"

A small stifled cry from outside the office brought both owner and manager running out to see what was wrong. Seraph put her hand over her mouth as Heart faced off, in a fighting stance, an invisible threat on the other side of the curtain. Her sword was drawn and gleaming.

Then the bulldozer piled through the curtain...

Heart looked up at Thor, eyes wide, and tried not to panic. Something about the man made her far less certain of winning this fight than any demon she'd ever faced. Thor halted his advance when he saw her sword, but he grinned rather ominously. From his belt, he produced a massive iron hammer, its head fully as large as Heart's own. Small arcs of electricity played over its surface as his eyes danced gleefully.

"It's really too bad your bosses won't let you believe in other pantheons," he said to Heart. "Or perhaps you'd know I'm also a God of War."

"Hell has a Horseman for that," Heart responded curtly.

"Yeah, I know. Ares got fed up with fighting them after Constantine decreed everyone in the Holy Roman Empire had to become Christian or die, so he joined Hades in Hell," Thor shrugged. "They offered me the job, but I hate horses." He twirled the hammer between his fingers. "But that doesn't mean I'm not always looking for a good fight."

"Who the hell is that guy?" Seraph demanded of Tony as they watched the exchange.

"Thor? He's the bouncer."

"Thor? As in Thor Odinson? The bouncer?"

Tony shrugged, gazing at the item in Heart's hand incredulously. "Yeah. Best one we ever had, even if he is obsessed with using a hammer. She ain't gonna scare him off with that nail file."

"Yeah," Seraph replied. "So good he's threatening my girlfriend." She straightened her skirt and stalked across the floor, allowing her shape shift to lapse. She marched up to the two glaring opponents, tail lashing.

"Excuse me!" she announced loudly to Thor. "But would you mind telling me why it is you were about to try and hurt my girlfriend?"

Thor glanced at her irritatedly, then did a double take as his jaw dropped.

"This-this is...?"

"Uh-huh," Seraph nodded.

"But she's - but she's - " He pointed dumbly at Heart's halo.

"I know what she is, Mr. Odinson. And what a shock that must be. But I would appreciate it if you would stop threatening her. Immediately," Seraph said menacingly.

Her tone overcoming his shock, Thor demanded. "Yeah, well who the hell are you to be telling me what to do?"

Tony stepped up. "Thor, I'd like you to meet Miss Darkfell, the owner of Club Dante."

Thor gave Seraph a look-over, from wingtips to hooves. "I should have guessed." He turned to Heart. "My apologies, Miss Heart. Like I said, it's not like you types to lie. I hope there's no hard feelings, it's just business." He replaced his hammer and scratched his head as he looked at Seraph. "She's your what?"

Heart beamed as she latched onto Seraph's arm and held it.

"Girlfriend," Seraph repeated firmly.

Thor looked from one to the other, then shook his head. "Never would have figured." He stuck out his hand. "My apologies to you too, Miss Seraph. Just trying to keep the Club safe."

Tony looked at the diminutive form of Heart. "From her?"

Thor gave Tony the evil eye. "Yeah, from her. She's more than you'd

think, Tony. I ain't a hundred percent sure I'd have succeeded in taking her." He looked back at Seraph, still holding out his hand. "Or you either."

Seraph finally took Thor's hand. "Well... umm... I suppose I'll consider that flattery."

Thor grinned. "Naw. If I was flattering you, I'd say you could take Sif." He laughed and turned to exit. Heart watched him vanish through the curtain again before dropping her sword into her purse and turning to Seraph.

"Wow, what a big mean guy."

"Beloved, whatever started that?" Seraph asked, looking at the ceiling, afraid of the answer.

"Umm. Well, he thought I must be here to cause trouble because... well..." She looked up at her halo.

Seraph sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. Well... at least he knows the truth now."

"So... let me get this straight..." Tony said looking eagerly at the two girls. "You two are lesbians?"

Heart only looked puzzled, but Seraph said, "Yes. Passionately."

Tony rubbed his hands together. "Well... that could be interesting. A lesbian dance act! The two of you up there, dancing together. The men wanting both of you... 'cuz everyone knows all men want two women at once..."

"Umm... I don't dance sir. At least... not like that," Heart said demurely.

"Oh, come on." Tony cajoled. "It's not that hard after the first few times. At least, that's what the girls say..."

"No sir, thank you," Heart looked a little uncomfortable.

"But it's good money..."

Seraph's hand gripped Tony's shoulder and bones creaked. "She doesn't dance."

Tony gasped in pain and cried, "Ok, ok... She doesn't dance!" He looked relieved as Seraph's hand released.

"Of course-" Seraph added. "-I do."

"Of course."

"Starting tomorrow."

"Yes, of course,"

"You saw the deed?"

"No, but I don't have to. Uncle Monty told me you'd be the only one with a key to that lockbox, and would know the combination to the safe. Don't worry, Miss Darkfell, he told me to treat you like you was the Don, himself."

"I'm flattered, but just now, I need a place to work. I'm just here to dance."

"You..." Tony stopped. "You just want to dance?" He looked around. "You're not here to take the place back over?"

Seraph laughed. "Why do you think I hired your Uncle in the first place?" she asked. "The business end of the club bores me to tears, Tony. No, I'll check things out of course, but so long as you've been doing a good job of managing, you can keep it." She looked around. "But some of this decor has got to go." She looked back at Tony. "I will not dance in a tacky club."

Tony looked mildly offended, but only nodded.

"Umm... Excuse me," a rather despondent voice interrupted.

Seraph and Tony turned to see the bartender, who was looking down at his feet.

"What's up, Guido?" Tony asked.

"Well... I guess I need to tender my resignation," he said sourly.

"What?" Tony looked shocked.

"Miss Darkfell said I was fired. I figure I'll save her the trouble. Besides, it'll look better when I'm looking for a new job."

Tony looked at Seraph, but it was the big-eyed gaze Heart gave her that made her swallow.

"Beloved?" Heart asked.

Seraph looked down at her hooves. "You're not fired. You didn't know who I was. I for- for- for-" She strangled on the word.

"You're forgiven, for whatever it was," Heart finished for her, poking her head from under Seraph's arm. Seraph nodded violently.

Guido looked at the pair of them for a minute, then shrugged. "Thanks, Boss," He turned and went back to the bar.

"You're so wonderful, Beloved," Heart said beaming.

Tony had raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but kept silent. Seraph blushed at the praise.

Heart was looking around at the club. "So this is a strip joint? Aren't the mirrors kinda tacky?"

Seraph sighed. "It used to have murals, love," she turned to Tony. "Please tell me whoever had those awful mirrors put up didn't paint over the walls?"

Tony looked defensive. "No... I just had them mounted over so the customers could see the dancers better."

"No... You mean so that no matter where you looked you could see them. Please don't try to hide the fact you like looking at the girls Tony... I like the fact you like looking at the girls... it means you'll make sure the girls that work here are worth looking at. But the mirrors have to go. I had to go through Hell to get Waterhouse to paint those murals, and had to delay the grand opening a year while he painted them." She looked down at Heart. "They had better not be too damaged. You have no idea how hard it was to get the pictures he worked from. Charon had to make me waste a good fifteen plates being a ham, and it took forever to talk Cerberus into allowing me to enter with the camera. Then, trying to get everyone organized properly for the orgy was just hell. They all wanted to make sure I got their best sides and Helen and Paris insisted that they had to be the centerpiece, which of course started an argument with Cleopatra and Mark Antony. I swear... If they hadn't all already been dead, I'd have killed the lot of them!"

Heart was lost in giggles. Tony was just giving her a look that said, "Oh, god I work for a madwoman." Seraph rolled her eyes.

"Oh! Never mind... just please get someone in here to remove the mirrors. Carefully!"

Reassured she was at least functional, Tony nodded. "I'll call my brother. He's got a business that restores old houses."

"I'm sure. And he'll split the bonus for finding him the job with you. Tell him I'll triple it if he can get it done by tomorrow night. And double that if he can get a painter to restore the murals exactly."

Tony blanched.

"Don't worry, Tony. I'll cover the bonus personally, but the restoration had better be perfect."

Tony nodded. "I'll tell him Miss Darkfell."

"Oh fer chrissakes! Call me Seraph."

"Of course, Seraph,"

There was the beginning of respect in Tony's eyes that hadn't been there before. He'd looked at her as a sextoy, then a nuisance that was going to cost him his job, then as a sucker to be fleeced, but now he was beginning to respect her as his boss. Seraph wasn't too worried about him. Monty wouldn't have placed him as manager if he wasn't a damn sight more than competent. He might be an obscene, vulgar little man, but he'd get the job done... and make a profit doing it.

Heart had recovered from her giggling fit. Seraph smiled at her. "I still have to put away some papers, love, then we're finished here."

"I take it that everything went well?" she asked brightly.

"Well enough. I'm going to start tomorrow night," She looked at Tony. "Right?"

Tony looked up from the small notepad where he was jotting down Seraph's orders on his to-do list, not minding in the least that he was addressing Seraph's oversized breast instead of her face. "Absolutely."

Seraph took Heart's hand and led her to the Manager's office.

"Oh! Pictures!" Heart exclaimed on their entry. She plucked them from the desk and began going through them. Seraph froze, worried. Most of those were... well... explicit.

"Beloved?" she asked nervously.

Heart didn't notice, too absorbed in looking at the pictures. She'd examine each one for long moments, then go to the next. The silence grew longer as Seraph's heart sank.

Finally Heart reached the last photo.

"Beloved?" Seraph whispered.

Heart looked up at her. "Hummm?"

"I- I- " Seraph couldn't think of anything to say.

"Beloved? Are you okay?" Heart asked worriedly, her face immediately concerned.

Seraph blinked. "Huh?"

"What's wrong, Love?" Heart asked.

"I- I thought..." She gestured at the pictures.

Sudden understanding hit Heart. "Did you think I would be upset by those pictures?"

Seraph nodded, looking downcast.

Heart reached up and cupped her face as she drew her down for a kiss. "Now, why," she asked, "would I be upset at pictures of my Beloved, who just happens to be a succubus, being herself?" She kissed Seraph again. "I like looking at you Seraph, and I like looking at pictures of you too. I was a little worried myself, but now that I've seen them, I can't be jealous. You look so happy in them. But you know something?"

"What?"

"You don't look anywhere near as happy as you do when you're with me." She gave Seraph a stunning smile, then reached down to pull one particular picture out of the pile. "Besides, I kind of like this one. Can I keep it?" She held the photo out for Seraph to see.

She blushed right down to her hooves. It was a full nude of her in one of her more athletic poses, in full succubus form - not that many Mortals would have been able to see that - but it was particularly explicit.

"Ummm..."

Heart kissed her again. "Thank you, Beloved!" She looked at the picture again and gave Seraph a sidelong look over her glasses. "However, you will have to demonstrate that particular use for your tail to me sometime."

Seraph blushed more brightly. "I must be rubbing off on you, Love."

Heart giggled. "Why, love, of course you are. I love you, and as much as I love you, I also lust for you. And I noticed I'm rubbing off on you too. I was very proud of you for forgiving Guido like that, even if you do still have a hard time saying it to anyone but me."

Seraph rolled her eyes. "I can't help that, Love."

Heart smiled. "I know. But you tried."

"Don't rub it in," Seraph grumped, but her face said she was far from displeased. She sat behind the desk and sorted through the paperwork in the folder. Heart peered over her shoulder, then reached out to grab one that caught her eye.

"Wow," she said, looking at the deed. "You own this place?"

"Yeah, why do you think I was ordering Tony to take down the mirrors?"

"I figured you had charmed him or maybe had a history with him or something," Heart admitted. "I mean... well... You are a succubus, love. It would be reasonable."

Seraph smiled. "Yeah... but in this case, I actually do own it. I had this place built back in 1916. It took almost four years to track down an architect I liked to design it, get the permits, grease palms, and find craftsmen who met my standards. I wanted something that was mine, totally mine, from start to finish. I didn't get any help from Mephie, or any other agencies in Hell. I was given the seed money for the place by John Jacob Astor, a gentleman I had an affair with when I was on a vacation. We met on the Titanic and he treated me like a real lady. He listened to my ideas and respected my opinions and gave me pointers on how to accomplish what I wanted, then when the ship went down, he gave me a bank draft in apology for not being able to keep his promise to help me in person. I decided to keep the club very high class and upscale because of him. Building the place took another four years, and when I finally had it finished, Prohibition was in full swing, so I had to make it a speakeasy at first. That meant dealing with the Mafia."

She leaned back in the chair and pointed to a picture on the wall. "I took the easy way out and found a local boss, a guy named Vito Scorciano. He had a knack for managing the books and looking legitimate, and he stayed low key. The mob got its cut and a discrete place to launder money, so long as they kept their profile low. They kept it that way because Dante's attracted some very high profile clients, and they knew a good deal when they heard one."

"Then World War I broke out and I was sent overseas by Mephie to entertain the generals. I sent Vito some acts I found in Paris and Berlin, and after the war, I hung out in Berlin for awhile, until Hitler came along and I had to go back to work. After that war, I came back to the States to find Vito had been killed in a mob war and that his son Monty had taken over the place. Monty was better at managing than Vito was, so I hung around for a few years and relaxed. Then Korea started. I was over there until Vietnam was in full swing and Bhaalor's troops started making everyone crazy. I came back here just in time for the whole hippie movement, and... well... " She gazed into Heart's eyes. "You know the rest."

Heart nodded, eyes shining. "That's when we got assigned to neutralizing each other and started our duel." She smiled. "Remember Woodstock? The beginning of the most wonderful time in my life?"

"How could I forget. We had just decided that killing one another was something neither of us had in us, and we'd decided to settle things by you trying to prove to me that your virtue was more important than my vice, and vice versa. We tied that time. Five casual affairs to five true love matches."

"And those were the five pairs we both hit," Heart reminded.

"How could I forget? They were the ones that made us wonder if we should even be fighting. We've discussed them how many times these last thirty years?" Seraph laughed. "And how many more did we both work on since?"

Heart snuggled against Seraph. "I lost count, Love, but the most important result of it all is our love. And you."

Seraph looked up into her angel's green eyes. "You really think I'm a wonderful part of your life, Beloved?"

"I'm an angel, Seraph. I can't lie."

"You are so very wonderful though."

"You are,"

"You,"

"No. You!"

"But, Beloved, you forgave me for all those pictures!"

"There was nothing to forgive. Besides, you were the one to save me from Bhaalors troops, and- " She raised a finger triumphantly, "Thor!"

"Well... He was threatening you."

"Yes. And you stopped him. That makes you wonderful."

"But what about you?" Seraph asked plaintively.

"I must be wonderful," Heart kissed her neck. "Because, after all, you love me, no?"

Seraph smiled. "With all my heart, Heart." She let herself get lost in the tiny angel's embrace for a small eternity.

Finally, Heart looked over to the desk. "Let's get this stuff put away, Love." She started putting pictures back in the lock box. "I want to get away from here for now. It'll take me a bit to get used to this place, and your manager unnerved me a little with the way he was trying to get me to dance."

"Don't worry about him, love. He'll behave himself around you from now on. I'll see to it."

"And what did he mean by calling us lesbians?"

Seraph stopped and looked to where Heart was still sorting pictures. She had asked that so matter of factly.

"Um... Beloved? Do you know what a lesbian is?"

Heart looked up. "Yes. It's a mortal slang term for two women who have sexual relations. But why would that apply to- " She stopped and then looked down at herself. "Oh. I never thought of that." She blushed. "I've been an angel so long I'd stopped thinking about the fact that I prefer feminine form. It's not something angels think about." She sat down. "I mean, I was female when I was a Mortal, but that was over two thousand years ago." She looked at Seraph. "Do you think that was why Theliel was so mad at me for falling in love with you? Just because I prefer a feminine physical form?"

Seraph put the folder back into the lockbox and closed the lid. She looked at Heart worriedly.

"That's one thing I never really understood," Heart continued. "It's such an arbitrary rule and has nothing to do with the concept of Love. Love is Sacred, and the Soul is Sacred. The physical body is only a shell. The Soul has no gender beyond that of its own self image, and Love is above the restrictions of the physical. By all the definitions of Heaven, the body doesn't matter, and two souls can love one another regardless of the physical shell, so why does that aspect matter? Why does the Code condemn it among mortals?"

Seraph had no answer. She shrugged.

Heart sighed. "I've always been bothered by that. Theliel has forced me several times to break up matches that involved same gendered couples, and make new matches that weren't. In a very few of the cases, it produced a true love match, but in most cases, it didn't and the new couples were never as happy or as compatible as the ones Theliel had me break. I always thought I must have failed somehow." She looked up at Seraph. "But did I? Or did Theliel?"

Seraph stood and put the iron lockbox back in the safe and closed the picture over it. "I don't know, Love. Do you think our love is unholy?" She couldn't meet Heart's eyes.

But Heart's immediate response relieved her. "No, Beloved. I know our love is holy because our love is true. True love can never be unholy, because it is a gift from the Creator and our own hearts." She stepped behind Seraph and laid against her back. "He designed us to love, to be complete only with our soul's mate. Too often, we search for eternity and never find that one soul which will make us complete, but once we find them, there is no doubt. You complete me Seraph, make me feel whole... I could never think our love is anything but meant to be. No, the problem isn't with us, Beloved. It's with Theliel." She sighed. "Exactly what his problem is though, I guess we'll never know."

"All the more reason for you to go back to making matches, Love," Seraph said. "You can finally set things right."

Heart smiled and hugged her tighter. "See? You're being wonderful again."

Seraph blushed as she turned and returned the hug. "Are you ready to go?"

Heart stepped up on tiptoe, and still had to pull Seraph's head down for the long passionate kiss. "Now I am."

They exited to the main room to find Tony waiting. "My brother will have a crew here tonight at closing to remove the mirrors. We'll have 'em down by opening tomorrow. He also knows a guy who restores Waterhouses for the Museum." He checked his notes. "That was the artist you named, right?"

"Yes. Thank you, Tony. That was fast work." Seraph was impressed. Monty had trained him well.

"Anything else?" he asked.

Seraph looked at the stage. "Yes. Get someone in to look at the gas lines. I want to use the jets tomorrow, if I can do so without blowing the place up."

"The jets?"

She led him over to the stage and showed him the concealed gas jets. "They put a border of flame around the stage."

Tony looked nervous. "I ain't never seen em used,"

"Have them checked. If it's too dangerous as is, get them replaced as soon as you can,"

"Right," he jotted the note down.

Seraph linked hands with Heart and they walked towards the curtains. Right at the threshold, she paused. "Oh, Tony? One last thing."

"Yes, Miss Seraph?" She winced, but she'd break him of it eventually.

"If you aren't using the office, could you have it cleaned for me?"

"Of course."

They nodded at Thor as they made their way outside to Seraph's Corvette. As Heart got in, Seraph pulled something out from under the windshield wiper.

"Damn. Another ticket." She leaned over, opened the glove box, and added the pink slip of paper to a stack of similar ones over an inch thick.

"Beloved?" Heart asked. "Aren't you supposed to pay those?"

Seraph looked at her and smiled. "I am a demon, Beloved."

Heart laughed as they pulled out and away from the club.

******

Lilith lay in Lucifer's bed in the castle and sighed. She'd tired of Bhaalor rather quickly. There were, after all, only so many times one could listen to boasts, battle strategies, nefarious plots, and ranting about incompetent minions before even the Queen of Hell got bored. Bhaalor was rash, overconfident, and completely reckless with the lives of his troops, a perfect general for Hell's armies, but he was so... so... thickheaded. She'd wasted a good hour fucking him only to find out his big plan for dealing with Seraph was to simply send in more minions until she was killed.

And the biggest waste was that Lucifer probably wouldn't even notice she had been unfaithful. Her infidelity games couldn't even get him aroused anymore. She thought back to the wildly passionate sex they'd once enjoyed after she'd seduced another person, how he'd enjoyed the signs of another's spent passion upon her, all lost to her now. He'd not touched her more than casually for centuries, and now, all his attention was drawn by the angel and the succubus.

She sighed yet again and rose to look over the balcony, contemplating how to win back her Lord's passion. Her eyes fell upon the stone set below the balcony on the bridge, and she thought fondly of her rape by all the Lords of Hell as she lay bound to that stone, being 'punished' for Lucifer's rage over some trifle. She'd rekindled his passion for almost three years with that little display. He'd taken her on the stone himself, following the last Lord who'd raped her, showing her less mercy and brutalizing her worse than any of them, as befitted the Master of Hell.

Now, nothing worked. Men, women, animals, toys, fetishes... nothing she'd tried interested him anymore. They'd done it all before. No matter how depraved, or violent, or painful, it just had no effect, and being an ignored wife was the most painful thing of all...

Inevitably, her thoughts returned to Seraph and Heart, and the love making she had witnessed the night before. There had been... something... special about that. Something she just couldn't put her finger on about that magical blending of demonic and angelic auras...

With a small inrush of air, she returned to the mortal plane, arriving in her dimensional pocket just as Seraph and Heart returned from a night out.

The happy couple was dressed for a play, Seraph in a black satin dress that clung to the curves of her full bosom, but had no back, the top of the skirt beginning below the top of the cleft of her derriSre. A long slit dropped down her left leg from mid-hip, revealing sheer black hose and the stiletto-heeled platforms she wore in human form to maintain her height. Her long white hair contrasted with the black satin, but it lent her an elegant look, despite her imposing height.

Heart was in a more business-like outfit that still displayed her voluptuous form, her white princess cut top displaying her shapely cleavage. A short slit revealed the top of her white silk stockings, and the low heeled pumps she wore had small gold ribbons that matched her belt. Her red hair was tied back with a gold bow at the nape of her neck.

So elegantly opposite, Lilith noted. As different as night and day, yet to look at them, you can see they compliment each other so well.

The pair entered the room singing and Heart executed a few neat dance steps as Seraph closed the door, the final twirl leaving her sprawled gracefully on the bed.

"Oh, Beloved! That was a wonderful play! So romantic!" She sang another verse of the aria.

Seraph smiled and stretched, letting her shape-shift go and returning to her true form. The reason for the low-cut back was readily apparent as she rubbed the base of her tail.

"I wish one day humans would figure out that their chairs are murder on those of us with tails," she muttered as she stepped to a chair and swept her skirt out of the way to sit in it backwards.

"Yes, it really was very romantic," she answered Heart. "But I felt sorry for the Phantom."

Heart sniffed. "Me, too. He was so in love with Christine. Everything he did, no matter how bad, he did for her. If I'd been assigned to his case, he would have won Christine's love. She inspired all of the goodness inside him!"

"Beloved, he was insane."

"Only because he was unloved, Seraph. No-one loved him because he was ugly! It's horrible!" Heart replied. "Christine loved him! You could see she did, right up until she found out what was under the mask!" Heart pounded her fist on the bed. "I could have made that love true!"

"But, Beloved, isn't that what she had with Raoul?" Seraph asked, puzzled.

"No," Heart said shortly. "He was a convenient escape route. An excuse! She was shallow and vain and gave up her true love because she blinded herself to her own heart!" Heart shook her head. "It's like that story about the Hunchback or Beauty and the Beast. Esmeralda blinded herself to love because Quasimodo was ugly, but Beauty learned to see with her heart, not her eyes. Because she did, she found her true soulmate, and happiness beyond her wildest dreams." Heart jumped up and began pacing the room. "It's like what we were talking about earlier, Beloved. The soul is what matters, not the package it's wrapped in! The body doesn't define it!"

"Are you still upset because Tony called us lesbians today?" Seraph asked concerned. Heart was rarely this agitated.

"No," Heart shook her head. "In a way, I'm glad he did. If he hadn't, I might not have noticed these things. When I think about all the lovers who have walked away from their true loves because they couldn't see beyond the surface, or were ripped away from their true loves because the Code said they couldn't be in love... of all the times I thought I was doing it in the name of Love!" She snorted. "And then I get my evaluation assignment, and I do something no other Angel of Love has ever done - I showed a demon how to love - and do I even get a pat on the back? A 'good job Heart'? No. Theliel kicks me out of Heaven for it!" She stopped in front of Seraph. "I showed you how to love, and I gave my love to you, because you needed love, and because I needed you. And for that, Theliel wants to punish me. Is it because you're a succubus? Or is it because you're a woman?" She whirled and stalked to the window.

Seraph looked at her, her heart in her eyes.

"I mean, yes, you are a succubus, and by definition, all succubae are female. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. You can't change it, nor do I want you to." She gave Seraph a brilliant smile. "But I could be male if I chose." She shimmered.

Seraph blinked as Heart changed. Where her beautiful angel had been stood a broad muscular man whose body could have been sculpted by Michelangelo. Heart's telltale red hair hung down his back, but where the soft curves of her full breasts had been was now hard muscle. The sheer fabric of her tortured dress defined the muscular outline of male legs and the faint outline of male genitalia.

"Theliel knows this," male-Heart added, her voice crisp and deep. "I was assigned to stop you by any means I could, to bring you to Heaven's side if possible, and I thought you would respond to me better as I was, so I stayed female."

"Um... Beloved?" Seraph interrupted.

"Yes, Beloved?" Heart replied, glancing at a Seraph who was looking rather pensive.

"Could you please change back? That dress is definitely not cut to your proportions at the moment,"

"Oh, sorry," Heart said distractedly. She shimmered back to her normally lovely self. "Anyway, we fell in love-"

"Heart?" Seraph interrupted again.

"Yes, Beloved?"

"Promise me you won't do that again,"

Heart had to laugh. "I like being a female, Seraph. I've been female most of my existence. It's more comfortable."

"Good. I'm glad. I like you better as a woman."

"That's my point, Seraph," Heart continued. "Theliel knew I could be either sex, that my sex had no bearing. He could have simply ordered me to stay male. He didn't have to exile me! I did my job! I admit I certainly didn't expect to fall in love with you, but that only had bearing on my assignment inasmuch as it would aid me in winning you to Heaven's cause." She looked sheepishly at Seraph. "Sorry, Beloved. I was hoping eventually to convince you to come to Heaven."

Seraph shrugged. "And I was assigned to cause your fall," she said bitterly. "Which in the end, is exactly what I did, whether I wanted to anymore or not."

"Beloved! You weren't responsible for Theliel's behavior. I certainly didn't expect it. I filed a very positive progress report telling him we were in love and that I believed that love would work a wondrous change in you-"

"Which it did," Seraph added.

"- and that I thought you would eventually come to Heaven's side, and he accused me of failing my assignment and betraying Heaven and then he exiled me!" Heart sighed. "Seraph? Lust, or what I've learned of it, it's purely physical, right?"

Seraph nodded. "Mostly. There are a lot of complex psychological phenomena, and several different competing hormonal and biological drives, but most of the sensations and effects are tied to physical stimuli," Seraph smiled. "What you showed me was that while lust may consume the body and mind, it will fade as the biological imperative is met. Love provides a catalyst that allows lust's passions to be maintained indefinitely, as well as providing for needs beyond the purely physical. Lust may be the lighter fluid, but love is the flame."

Heart did a triumphant little twirl. "Exactly! Love without passion is cold, remote, no matter how deep or strong. It's only when both fires are manifested that love reaches its full potential! I did not fail in my assignment! I was not corrupted! I was completed!" She stopped suddenly. "Could that be it? Was I not supposed to realize what love could be?" Her eyes implored Seraph for an answer.

"Beloved, I have no idea,"

"I wish I knew," Heart said despondently as she sat back down on the bed. Seraph looked at her lover in dismay.

"I wish I knew how to cheer you up,"

Heart looked up at the Succubus through long sensual lashes, her rose-tinted lenses falling down her nose. "Well..." she purred. "You did promise to show me something."

"Ah." Seraph brightened. "So I did."

Lilith watched as Seraph rose. That conversation had been very interesting. She wondered what the Succubus was going to do now.

Seraph twisted into a well-placed kick, and the table silently slid to the wall as she dimmed the lights. Only the chair she had been sitting in remained. The radio turned itself on and began to search through channels until it found a piano intro into a song. Seraph smiled. "Perfect. I like this version so much better than the country one. I'm glad they made a pop cut."

The music went into a lull as Seraph struck a pose, her wings framing her in the light.

Is she finally going to show the Angel her true powers as a Succubus? Lilith wondered. This should be interesting.

Then, the song began...

For the brief moments of the song, time ceased to exist. For both the Angel of Love, and the Queen of Hell, there was only the music...

And Seraph...

The song was a simple ballad, the words solely praising a love so intense it was amazing, and Seraph brought the emotions of the song to a living breathing life. She started with a twirl that lifted her skirt to show her calves, the slit wrapping around to show a flash of her garters and the silky red panties she was wearing, but more than the dance was the aura Seraph exuded. She had released her abilities to evoke passion and as she danced, the subtle siren call of desire rose slowly to a fever pitch. As Seraph slowly removed articles of clothing and revealed more and more of herself, Lilith felt herself responding. No succubus she'd ever encountered had had that effect on her, and that was peripherally; the effect on Heart was even more potent.

As the last of Seraph's cloths fell to the floor, the succubus moved to the chair and used it as a brace for some of her more erotic moves, using her tail and wings to teasingly hide, then reveal various part of her body. Heart's face flushed with desire as she watched mesmerized.

Lilith fought against her own reactions, wanting to observe Heart's reactions to Seraph's revelation of her powers, and trying to figure out why Seraph's powers were so strong. If she could learn to imitate Seraph's aura, even Lucifer would be rocked by her hot wind. There was no demand to Seraph's call, no urge for immediate reaction, no push for a response to the silent wave of passion, yet it was all the more seductive for it. Without the overwhelming drive towards sex that a Succubus's aura usually invoked, Seraph seemed more alluring, more desirable. Something lurked behind that call that Lilith had never felt, something that awoke yearnings within her she had never realized were there.

As Seraph concluded her dance to stand before her lover unconcealed, the last word of the song fading slowly, Lilith gasped, her body shuddering . In amazement, she looked down at her betraying hand, now slick and wet. She'd climaxed, and worse, she'd been heard.

Seraph whirled. "What was that?"

Heart only had eyes and ears for her lover. "What was what?" she asked.

"I thought I heard someone moan in orgasm."

Heart stood on the bed, bringing herself up to a height level with Seraph's. "That was me." She took off her glasses and drew Seraph's lips into a long passionate kiss as she guided the Succubus's hand to the zipper of her dress. "And now you're going to make me do it some more."

Seraph giggled as Heart was quickly divested of clothing, and the Angel dragged the succubus down on top of her. Lilith sighed in relief, but could not bring herself to leave yet. She watched as the two made love again, their aura's intertwining once more.

When it was over, Heart raised her head to look into Seraph's eyes, and smiled at the light that filled them. Lilith marveled at the ecstasy the succubus's eyes revealed. She had never seen a succubus who had ever seemed satisfied with a lover. Heart's "I love you" made Seraph stretch, looking down at the little Angel. She reached down and tousled Heart's hair, mussed from their recent activity.

"I love you too."

Her tone matched the Angel's. She moaned softly as Heart decided they weren't done yet, and as the passions of the pair began rising once more, Lilith pondered the Angel's words...

I love you...