This is the first draft of Chapter three, so any C&C will be greatly
appreciated.  LS & Jen.


     Chapter Three: Renaissance

     Heart sat, surrounded by motionless cars with engines whining.  Her
stomach was in knots from anxiety.  All morning, she had been debating the
wisdom of returning to her former vocation, swinging between the extremes of
imagining both Seraph's joy if she got the job, and her disappointment if
she didn't.  She had almost decided not to go several times, but in the end,
the mental image of Seraph's rapture at her possible success won over any
apprehensions.  At least, until she'd gotten halfway to the Heavenly Hearts
office.

     She had some driving experience, but competing with midtown Manhattan
traffic was leagues beyond her sphere of knowledge.  The traffic also gave
her plenty of time to reflect on her previous apprehension, and soon, she
was twice as overwrought.  The primary effect of all this was sheer terror.

     Her hands were clenched around the wheel as she endured the crazy
cabbies who seemed not to care whether or not they hit someone and the
cacophony of desperately-blaring horns.  Heart wondered why car companies
bothered with horns.  People seemed to believe they would make the traffic
move, but it didn't seem to work.  Worse yet, there were those that
distracted themselves by talking on those small handheld phones everyone
seemed to carry.  Despite what the humans perceived to be cold, many of them
leaned out the windows and shouted horrifying obscenities at one another in
several different languages.

     "How can these people be so mad at each other?" she wondered aloud,
despairingly.  "This is like all that stuff on television, except real!  No
wonder people are so sad all the time!"

     An inspiration struck her and she muttered some words in the Angelic
tongue.  The spell was designed to untangle knots, but a few modifications
to the wording caused her to gasp in delight.

     She wasn't the only one gasping.  To the astonishment of every driver
in a three-block radius of Rockefeller Center, cars suddenly began to move.
Within moments, traffic was flowing as smoothly as the ocean's tide.  All of
the tension, the incessant honking, was replaced by the awed silence of cars
actually moving.
     It went a long way toward boosting Heart's spirits as she continued to
her destination.

     When finally she arrived at the tall uptown building and parked the
car, she was excited.  The tall building seemed to reach for the clouds
above, the words "Fisher Enterprises" at its top.

     "That's strange," Heart said.  "I thought this was where Heavenly
Hearts was."  She pulled the newspaper out of her purse and consulted the
ad.  "This is the right address.  Maybe I should go inside."

     She did so, and among the plush decorations of the bottom floor of the
building, she found a directory.  It told her Heavenly Hearts was among the
offices on the third floor.  However, the lobby was huge, and she gasped in
delight.

     There were trees inside the building, and despite the overcast outside,
the sun shone down upon them.  Acting as gateways into this beautiful garden
were silver angels blowing golden trumpets, which crossed to make a delicate
archway.

     Above her, she could see the different floors of the building as they
extended off into what looked from here to be eternity.  From somewhere
above, a waterfall unleashed its stream upon a moat that surrounded the
garden.  Various exotic birds wandered the trees and moat, and a young man
stood feeding them.  "Pleasant, isn't it?" he asked without looking up.

     "It's beautiful," Heart replied, tears in her eyes.

     "A slice of Heaven," the young man said.  Heart made no response to
this, looking wistfully at her feet to hide the tears.

     "You look lost," the man turned his full attention to her, appraising
her with dark eyes.  "May I help you find something?"

     "Oh, you work here?"  Heart asked with only half-forced brightness.
     She was here to make Seraph proud, after all.

     "Yes," the man proffered his silver name badge, which proclaimed his
name to be Adam, the Landscaping Manager.  "I keep the garden."

     "Well, it's very beautiful," she complimented him.  "You must have
worked very hard on it."

     "Oh, working in this garden is like being in Paradise," Adam replied,
grinning.  "Except no snakes.  I hate snakes."  He shuddered.

     "Yeah, snakes are pretty scary," Heart replied amiably, not really
agreeing.

     "I'm going to the third floor.  Can you show me where the stairs are?"

     "Take the elevators," Adam pointed out some glass tubes on either side
of the building.  Inside, cars carried people up and down as though they
were floating on air.  Heart had seen elevators, but none like this.

     "Thank you!" she said brightly.

     She headed to the elevator and let it lift her, watching in awe as she
saw more and more of the garden.  The trees made a thick green line around
the outside of the garden, the grass making a light green field inside it.
A burst of flowers jeweled the crux of the cross-shaped garden, and also
showed in colored bursts lining the trees.  The moat surrounded the grass in
a clear blue line, and the four terraces that made the corners of a
rectangle were all visible at once.  At the end of the longest leg, the
angels stood, bidding welcome.

     The whole site filled Heart with a warm glow, something like Heaven,
but sweeter and more powerful.  Now she was optimistic about the impending
interview.

     At least, all the way until she got to the Heavenly Hearts office.

     She took a deep breath and entered the glass facade with its
heart-shaped doorway.  Strains of harp music were playing in the sunny
interior of the apparently-deserted office.  The light blue walls gave the
illusion that the huge plush couches were clouds, and she could see no desk
anywhere.

     "Hello?" she asked.  When she got no reply, she sat on one of the
fluffy sofas.  "I guess I'll wait.  Surely they're open."

     "Of course is open!  Door no locked, yes no?"  A voice said.  Heart
nearly jumped as she looked up and saw a petite Chinese woman step out from
behind a door she could have sworn was not there just a second ago.  "If
closed, no could open door.  No could come in.  Must be open, yes?"

     Heart blinked at the rapid-fire speech as she nodded "I guess so.  I-
I'm here for a-"

     "Yoshi know why here.  Follow Yoshi."

     She turned and reentered the door without waiting for Heart's reply.
Heart scurried after the small woman, noting the brisk way she walked.
Heart was a little taller than she was, but she had trouble keeping up with
the energetic woman.  As she was led down a quiet hallway, she looked
around, seeing doors leading into other offices, but no other people.

     At the end of the hall, Yoshi opened the door to a large office
decorated in a red heart motif.  Heart was waved to a seat in a heart backed
chair in front of a large desk covered with thousands of folders bearing
pictures of different people.  Yoshi leaned against the desk and looked at
Heart intently.

     "You matchmaker, yes no?" she said after her inspection.

     "Y-yes," Heart said uncertainly.  Hadn't she said she knew why Heart
was here?

     "Then why you not apply here first?  Yoshi should be first place come!
Why you go other place?  No have confidence in self?" the ancient woman
scolded.

     Heart blinked in confusion.  "Well, um..."

     The old woman sniffed.  "Matchmakers must believe in what do."

     "But I do!" Heart protested.  "It's what I've dedicated my existence
to!"

     "Hah!  Is why you look for secretary job?" Yoshi's look was scornful.
"Secretary no bring people together."  She reconsidered.  "Well, maybe boss
and secretary sometime.  But real matchmaker must make matches."  She tilted
her head at Heart.  "You make matches?"

     Heart nodded.  "Yes," she promised brightly.

     The old woman nodded sagely.  "But will make good matches?  Or bad?"

     Heart's face took on a slightly distressed look.  "Oh, I'll do my best
to make good matches, to help people find their true soulmates," she vowed.

     "How you know soulmates?  You in love?  You have soulmate?" the little
Japanese woman prodded.

     "Yes.  I do.  She's the most wonderful person in the world."  Heart
said fervently.  "I know what real love is, and I want to help others find
it.  I want to help others find the happiness I've found."

     "Her?  Soulmate is female?"

     Heart nodded.  "Yes.

     Yoshi nodded again.  "And you think is hokay?"

     Heart gave her a surprised look.  "Of course I do.  The Soul doesn't
have a gender, why should her bodies gender have anything to do with Love?"

     Yoshi nodded appraisingly.  "Interesting.  You like people?"

     "I love people," Heart said brightly.

     "What you like about them?" the old woman peered daggers through her.

     Heart swallowed, thinking about all the keepsakes in her purse.
"People have passion, and a need for beauty in their lives.  But everyone
sees beauty in a different way.  Especially when they're in love."

     "What love?  Tell me what mean,"

     "Love is..." Heart took a deep breath, conjured Seraph's face.  She
tried to summon her entire being into an answer, but came up short.  She
finished lamely, "It's over whelming.  It is the ultimate light."

     "And people need light?"

     "Yes!"  Heart was now warming up.  "Have you seen how people treat each
other?  Everyone is yelling and screaming, or killing each other, or
treating them badly.  Humans... people... can create wonderful things from
love, but it's so rare."

     "You feel strong on this?"

     "With all my heart,"

     She sat down in the chair by Heart and reached out to touch her hand.
"Heavenly Hearts exist to match Soulmates.  Love come first.  Many, many
matchmaker not make right match because blinded by notion of what right.
Yoshi no need another one.  Others blind to anything but!  Yoshi no need
either.  Love not care, Yoshi not care.  Yoshi just match.  Welcome Heavenly
Hearts."

     Heart blinked again.  "Does- does that mean you want me to work for
you?"

     Yoshi rolled her eyes.  "No, means Yoshi want dice up like sushi."  She
looked Heart in the eye.  "What think Yoshi mean?  You be here Monday.  Nine
o'clock.  Yoshi give assignments."

     Heart stood and nodded happily.  "Yes.  Thank you.  I promise I'll do
my best.  You won't regret this."

     A twinkle dwelt in the old woman's eyes that matched her smile.

     "No.  Yoshi think not."

     * * * * *

     Lipton had barely entered his office when the intercom buzzed.

     "Detective Lipton?  Are you busy?" it demanded in a male voice made
raspier by static.

     Lipton sighed.  "No Lieutenant,"

     "Good.  I need to meet with you.  Now,"

     Lipton sighed again.  "On my way."  He sat the cup of coffee on the
cabinet by the door and locked the door again.

     The Boss never seemed to want to meet with anyone unless it was bad
news, so Lipton prepared himself for the worst.  His only major case was
Seraph Darkfell, the others he had were minor, domestic violence turned
murder that were only "occult" because one was a tarot reader and the other
just happened to be a "wicclet," one of the new breed of witch wanna-bes.
The multiple was the first real case he'd gotten this year.  The precinct
liked to keep him fairly free for cases like this, heinous crimes, multiple
murders that featured the occult or demons, mages or some other supernatural
creature as killers.  Stuff the department didn't like to see on the front
page.

     So, despite the fact that he spent most of his time handling the weird
cases, he had never been yanked, reprimanded, or suspended, so he'd actually
only met Lieutenant Jake Goldberg once.  However, when he reached the bosses
office, the door was wide open and the Lieutenant was waiting for him with a
grim smile.

     "Bruce...  That's your name right?"  The Lieutenant double-checked the
file on the desk in front of him.

     Lipton nodded, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.  Goldberg was
being nice... that didn't bode well.

     "I wanted to talk to you about that multiple on Valentine's Day,"
Goldberg said, looking down at the file again.

     Part of Lipton relaxed.  "What about it?"  He leaned back in his chair,
faking a casualness he didn't really feel.  _Well_ he thought _at least this
isn't some kind of evaluation._

     Goldberg fixed him with a long look.  Finally, he simply said, "It's
closed."

     Lipton raised an eyebrow.

     "I'm sorry Lieutenant," he said in a disbelieving tone.  "I need you to
repeat that.  I could swear I heard you say 'It's closed.'  A six victim
multiple homicide, with witnesses?"

     "That's what I said, Bruce," Goldberg leaned back and attempted to be
more sympathetic.  "It's not my decision."  He sighed.  "Look, it's a fucked
up case.  Sure they were career criminals and we would have locked them up
eventually for their own bullshit, but Oy!  They were butchered like cattle
and the killer walked away.  Sure I want the killer, but it's out of my
hands."  He spread his hands to show his helplessness.

     Lipton leaned forwards.  "By whose authority?"  He growled through
clenched teeth.

     Goldberg sighed again.  "That's the fun part.  We've been ordered off
the case by some government agency I've never heard of.  The J.C.F.  Stands
for the Justice Co-operative Force.  It's an multinational special police
force.  Like a green beret version of Interpol."  Goldberg lifted the folder
and handed it to Lipton.

     It was an investigation by the J.C.F. into the multiple homicide.  It
concluded with evidence that the case was a gangland slaying and part of a
case against some mob boss Lipton had never heard of.  All mention of Mrs.
L's testimony had been erased, and all mention of any supernatural entities
was gone.  Lipton checked the credentials, noting that the references to
official standing were all very vague, like anything dealing with an
intelligence agency.  Then he came to the investigators signatures.

     G. Horne.  M. Wright

     "Those fucking sons of bitches!"  Lipton swore.  _I'll shove their
fucking Halos up their asses!_ he added mentally.

     Goldberg raised an eyebrow.  "I take it you are acquainted with the
investigators in question?"  He asked, noting where Lipton was looking.

     Lipton threw the file back on the desk.  "Yeah.  They were at a
location where one of my suspects was going to be.  They rather clearly told
me to butt out.  Looks like they weren't satisfied when I told them to shove
it," he growled.

     Goldberg smiled.  "I know it's frustrating."  He leaned forward, trying
to project an air of friendliness that nearly made Lipton gag.  "Look.  Why
don't you take the rest of the week off.  Go out to Jones Beach, sit in the
sun, watch the pretty girls go by, or whatever.  It's your 'vacation. '"  He
emphasized this last, his dark eyes boring holes into Lipton.  "Come back
Monday.  I'm sure we'll have another case for you.  This is New York, after
all."

     "And what if I just want to continue working?"

     "You don't," Goldberg informed him.  He stood and sighed as he turned
to the small window of his office.  "Look, you can do whatever you want for
the next few days.  Just... not work.  You'll do that Monday.

     "That's cheap."  Lipton scowled.  "A four day weekend - paid right? -
to keep me away from a case you just yanked from me.  What the hell do you
think this is?  'N.Y.P.D. Blue'?"

     Goldberg turned and leaned over the desk to glare at Lipton.  "Look, I
want this case solved as much as you do!  But so long as the J.C.F. has
jurisdiction, it's out of our hands.  We can't work on this case
*officially!*"

     The way the Lieutenant said that, with the hard emphasis on the last
word, made Lipton pause.  Goldberg was right.  This wasn't a "police"
problem.

     But that didn't mean it wasn't a *Lipton* problem.

     "Alright," he grudgingly nodded.  "See you Monday."  He took the
J.C.F.'s cover page from the folder and shoved it into his pocket.  Goldberg
didn't say a word.

     He stormed down to The Pit directly from Goldberg's office.  He needed
answers to some of this bullshit and he needed it now, before those two
Archangels screwed him over any further.

     And since they knew how to find Seraph, he had to get to her first.

     "Captain on the bridge," he announced as he stalked into the dimly-lit
room, the pale glow of the computer monitors constantly despite Barnes and
Davis' rising salutes.

     "Are you sure you can't make it to the con this weekend, Bruce?"
Barnes asked excitedly.

     "Yeah, the chick who played Deanna Troi is going to be there!"  Davis
exclaimed, holding up a spread of photos, the top a nude.

     Lipton sighed.  Trust Davis to have managed to find that.  "Sorry guys.
I've got plans."  He leaned over the back of a monitor as the pair set down
again.  "I need everything you dug up on Miss Darkfell."

     The pair of hackers looked at each other apprehensively.  Finally
Barnes said, "We got dick."

     Lipton raised an eyebrow.  "What do you mean?"

     Davis sighed.  "We don't have anything."

     Lipton stared.  "You guys?"  Lipton asked incredulously.  "That's a new
one.  Just give me what you found the other day then."

     Lipton's stomach sank when they exchanged another apprehensive glance.
Finally Davis muttered.  "We don't have that either.  Everything on Miss
Darkfell is gone, wiped clean, like she never existed."

     "We had a shitload of stuff for you, too."  Barnes sighed.  "It's been
wiped, too.  Everything we had stored, even the encrypted backups.  Who ever
hacked us was good."  He held up a couple of pieces of paper.  "This is all
we have."

     Davis nodded.  "We printed it out because it was just too weird."

     Barnes handed the papers too him.  "The first is the deed to Club
Dante.  She owns it, lock stock and barrel.  Has since it was built just
before Prohibition."

     Lipton raised his eyebrow.  "'Prohibition?"  He asked.  "Are you aware
of what you just said?"

     Barnes nodded.  "We are.  That second picture is from the news
archives.  It's the photo taken on opening day.  It made the news because a
woman opening a business was unusual and the amount of money poured into
Club Dante was enormous for that time.  It caused quite a stir.  And as you
can see, it's her.  That third picture is from the Fifties, from an article
in an amateur photo magazine.  That's Bettie Page with the whip.  That
fourth pic is from the sixties, a publicity shoot for Dante's."

     Lipton flipped through the pics noting the unmistakable face and white
hair of Seraph.

     "How does someone live that long and go completely unnoticed?"  Davis
demanded.  "No-one's even called attention to the fact that she hasn't aged!
>From 1916!  The government back then wasn't sophisticated enough to pull
something like this.  And they sure as hell didn't have the technology to
keep her from aging.  Who the fuck is she?"

     "She's an alien, right Bruce?"  Barnes pleaded.

     Lipton ignored the question.  They'd never believed the truth before.
"She's disappeared from everywhere?"

     Barnes nodded.  "Everywhere.  Even the deed's missing from records.
The news archive's been altered, the credit record's vanished.  All of it."

     "Like she's never existed," Davis added.

     Lipton's eye's narrowed.  He pulled the piece of paper he'd taken from
the case folder and handed it to Davis.  "See what you can dig up on them."

     Davis whistled.  "The J.C.F?  Never heard of them."  His eyes lit up as
he turned to the monitors.  Long minutes passed as the sounds of rapid
typing filled the air.

     Screens flickered barely long enough to register before being replaced.
Finally, Davis flung the keyboard back in frustration.  "Nothing.  They
officially don't exist.  That's all I can find.  International high level
police force, made up of specialists.  There's some references in the
message boards.  A couple of mentions in police records that cases have been
turned over to them.  Nothing concrete."

     Lipton growled, "Shit."  He searched his brain for other possible
leads.  "Harteriel Serefina," he said finally, spelling it for the two.

     Five minutes of searching came up with two things.  A Social Security
number, and a driver's license.

     "They're fakes, though," Barnes amended as he showed Lipton the files.
"Can't be older than a few days.  Good hack job.  Would probably pass
anything short of a CIA scrutiny if it weren't for the utter lack of any
other records."

     Lipton sighed.  He should have figured.  "Gabriel Horne."

     Barnes and Davis glanced down to the abbreviated signatures on the
paper and raised eyebrows at Lipton, then turned to their computers again.

     "Holy shit," Davis muttered a few minutes later.  Barnes whistled.

     "What?"  Lipton asked.

     They waved him around to see the screens.  "He's listed as CEO of
almost three dozen businesses.  They're mostly holding companies," Davis
said.

     "Most of them are part of larger holdings."  Barnes muttered.  "Part
of... let's see...  Fisher Enterprises."

     "What do you have on them?"  Lipton prompted.

     Barnes whistled again a few seconds later.  "It a conglomerate."

     "No, it's a fucking Mega-Corp," Davis swore.  "It's bigger than some
countries."

     Lipton read, wondering to himself if he should just give up and use
this weekend for a vacation after all.

     "They've got holdings all over the world.  Industrial, Biotech, Green
Energy, even some Metaphysical stuff, like holistic medicine and psychic
research.  It also looks like they do a lot of charity stuff too.  Schools
in the third world, desert farming, stuff like that," Barnes noted.

     "And one law enforcement agency," Davis said triumphantly.  "It's
written off as a charity, but it's solely funded by Fisher Enterprises."

     "Gabriel Horne and Michael Wright are listed on the Board of Directors.
CEO is one M. M. Fisher," Barnes added.

     "Who is also listed as V.P. of Fisher Enterprises.  The CEO is one J.C.
Fisher," Davis tapped a few more keys.  "I can get the press kit, not much
else.  They're sealed up tighter than a-"

     "Run the plates again," Lipton interrupted, frustration strong in his
voice.

     "They're gone."  Barnes said as he rolled his eyes.  He typed in the
search again.  "See?  The DMV has no records."

     "Wait!"  Davis exclaimed.  "I've got a hit in the police records.
Looks like it got entered this morning."

     The other two looked over his shoulder as he pulled up the details.
"Looks like a phony 911 last night.  Caller reported a woman being attacked
by a group of teenagers.  Fought them with a katana?  Supposedly killed them
and took off in a black 'vette matching our Seraph's.  Caller gave the tag.
Nothing there when the police arrived."

     Lipton looked at the description of the woman and nodded.  Short
red-head.  And apparently she did have a sword.  No surprise the caller saw
it as a katana.  People without sight tended to see what they expected.  He
clapped Davis on the shoulder.  "Good work."

     "You ever gonna let us know what this is about?"  Barnes queried.  "I
mean, this has shades of 'Highlander' written all over it.  Immortal sword
welding maniacs in New York City..." he laughed.

     "Maybe later.  I have things I need to do first."

     "Fine."  Davis said.  "But you will tell us, right?"  It really wasn't
a question.

     "Let me figure out what's going on myself first."  Lipton dodged.

     He felt their eyes on him as he left.

     Finally back in his office, he looked at his cold mug of coffee and
cursed.  He sat and rubbed his temples.  The fucking angels had screwed him
but good.  He stared at the cast of Seraph's hand.  He was so close to
figuring out what the hell was going on!

     He took the iron lock box out of the cabinet from where he had put it
yesterday morning and flipped open the Directory.  He cursed when he found
where he'd left off.  He'd been less than a dozen pages from the H's.  He
cursed his impatience.  He could possibly have had the case solved before
the two Archangels could have interfered.

     He flipped to the page he wanted and fell hard into his chair.  There,
in full color illumination, was Harteriel Serefina, Virtue First Class,
Love.

     He whistled.  "That's my angel.  So what's a cupid doing hanging out
with a succubus?"

     His intercom crackled, startling him.  "Detective Lipton?  Call on line
six."

     He caught his breath as he answered.  "Yeah.  Okay."  _Demons don't
scare me and I jump at the intercom,_ he groused mentally.

     "A phone call?" he muttered as he picked up the receiver.  "I never get
phone calls."

     "There's a first time for everything," came the crisp, familiar voice
over the receiver.

     Lipton growled as he flipped the pages of the directory back to look
Gabriel in the face, if not the flesh.

     "Yeah.  It's been a day for firsts."  Lipton said bitterly.  "Got my
first case pulled from me.  But hey, you already knew that, didn't you.  I
really would have thought gloating was a sin."

     "I merely wished to wish you a enjoyable vacation," Gabriel replied.
"Have fun, relax."

     "And warn me to keep off the Darkfell case," Lipton said darkly.

     "It's for your own good, Detective.  This case is far beyond you.  You
might get hurt, and that would be a shame for a demon hunter as good as
you."

     "I'm sure."

     "Sarcasm is uncalled for, Detective.  You have no concept of what you
are getting into."

     "I have a pretty good idea."  Lipton muttered.

     "No, Detective, you don't.  Stay away."

     "Or what," Lipton exclaimed.  "You'll kill me?  I hunt *demons,*
Gabriel.  Angels don't scare me."


     "I don't have to kill you, Detective.  If you pursue this case, you'll
likely die in the crossfire.  No side will spare you.  The stakes are too
high."

     "Over a cupid and a succubus?  Check your halo, Gabe.  I think the
radiation's gotten to your brain."

     "I urge you to take my advice, Mr. Lipton.  I cannot restrain Michael
every time, and I have no control of Hell's minions.  Or Heaven's.  Your
death would be pointless."

     "Yeah, yeah.  Whatever.  You made sure I was stuck vacationing,
remember?"

     "Just see to it that you do, Detective.  For your sake."  There was a
click, and the line when dead.

     Lipton put the receiver down and smiled grimly.  "Thank you Mr.  Horne.
That was rather enlightening."  He put the Directory back in the box and
tucked it into his pack, along with the casts and a couple of other book.
"So this is high enough stakes you'll risk a conflict with Hell, but you
don't seem to be aligned with Heaven either, like Mary.  How many sides to
this are there?"

     He looked around the empty office, but spied only a spider in the web
over the door.  He gave it a cocked head.  "You have any answers?"

     The spider shook its head.

     Lipton rubbed his eyes.  "This damn case is driving me crazy.  Now I'm
talking to spiders."  He laughed softly.  "And imagining they answer.  Maybe
I do need a vacation."

     He pulled the door shut and headed for his car.

     * * * * *

     Lilith had nearly fallen out of the web when Lipton had addressed her
directly, and had tried to nod automatically, but fortunately, it had
translated into a back and forth motion.  She had prepared to transform and
bewitch the Detective, something she wasn't sure would have worked with the
Directory so close to him, and sighed with relief when she realized he
thought she was just a spider.

     She shimmered to her true form after he had departed and sauntered to
his chair to sit.  This was becoming more and more interesting.  Gabriel was
involved, which could only mean Mary's son was meddling in things, and if
she had read his weapon's aura right, so was Mary.  She gave a sidelong
glance at the door.  Lipton would probably appeal to the sex-starved minx as
much as he did to her.  Maybe she should seduce him...

     She tugged absent mindedly at one of her nipple rings as she considered
what she wanted to do.  She'd checked on Seraph a little while ago and the
succubus was still asleep.  Heart had taken off for her interview a few
hours ago, and she hadn't felt like tagging along.  Now Lipton was taking
off...

     She hadn't been this bored since giving Mary fellatio lessons...

     With a sigh and an small implosion of air, she decided to check on
Bhaalor...



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