Falling Snow Ch. 04

"What the fuck was that?!" She snapped at the wounded man.

Aresta stalked over to where the detective sat against the wall, desperately trying to breathe. One of his lungs must have collapsed, the result of a shattered rib rattling around his chest cavity.

Her claws raked across his chest in a lightning fast move. His shirt shredded as she roughly tore the medallion from around his neck. She left deep cuts on his chest in the process. The crimson lines of savagery stood in cold contrast to his shredded white shirt.

Ignoring the detective's cries of pain, Aresta looked down at the dully illuminated medallion in her hand. At first glance, the object didn't make a whole lot of sense. The symbols and runes spanned centuries and cultures, with no real logical pattern. Ritualistic gibberish, she thought. She did, however, recognize the symbols that mattered and they spoke volumes to her.

"Hunter." She said quietly.

Aresta grabbed the detective by the throat with one clawed hand. She slowly squeezed his throat. His wind pipe constricted, further reducing his air flow and causing his head to pound. "I think it's my turn to ask some questions."

"I won't give you anything, demon whore." The detective wheezed.

Aresta flashed the detective a wolfish smile.

"Now, now detective. Don't let that boy scout charm leave you now. You need it more than ever."

"Fuck you."

She looked around the office with a critical eye. "You seemed to have made a mess of your office." She dipped one of her high heel shoes into the blood that now covered the floor. "And would you look at all of this blood."

She extended her pointer finger in front of the detective's face. She waved it back and forth as if admonishing a child.

"Tisk, tisk. We can't have your neat, orderly little world defiled now can we?"

He only stared back, a look of deep hatred and resolve in his eyes.

Her clawed fingers caught fire just inches from his face. Aresta could see the firelight and fear reflected in the detective's eyes. Keeping him pinned to the wall by his neck, Aresta slowly traced over the earlier claw marks on the detective's ruined chest. Flesh seared. The detective gritted his teeth. He didn't intend on showing any weakness to the demon in front of him, but the pain was soon too much for him. He began to make the deep grunting sound of someone trying to swallow intense agony.

"That's it," she moaned. "No one can hear you, sing for me mortal."

The detective screamed and true to her word, no one outside of the office heard his cries. Aresta continued her work until his chest resembled a mess of cauterized flesh and dried blood. The whole time, her eyes stared unblinking at the man in front of her.

"You sing beautifully detective."

"Fuck you."

She gave him a satisfied look.

"Have you had enough? Tell me what I want to know and I can make your death painless."

He spat out blood, "Why should I, foul beast? You're just going to kill me anyway."

Aresta gave him a predatory smile, "Tell me what I want to know and I'll make your death quick. You'll get to go up and meet your maker. Don't tell me what I want to know," she said menacingly, "and I'll drag you into the pit with me."

He shivered uncontrollably with fear at her words.

"You'll die a thousand times over before I consume your soul." She brushed her finger tips over his cheek in an almost loving way, before she pressed them into one of the detectives many wounds. He gave off a quiet sob of agony. "No heavenly reward for you then."

There was a loud knocking on the door.

"Shit," she spat.

The detective raised his head, a touch of hope in his expression. He took a deep, ragged inhale of air into his damaged lungs, "HEL- "

Aresta reached out and snapped his neck with a swift, practiced motion. His cry for help died on his lips.

Aresta was as silent and still as a rock as she stared at door, waiting to see if the knocking would continue.

After an agonizing moment of silence, the booming sound of the knocking started again. This time it was louder, more impatient. The handle of the door began to jiggle as someone tried to enter the room.

With no time to lose, Aresta grabbed ahold of the still warm corpse, while throwing open the window along the back wall. With one large step, she leaped out the open window and into the cool night air. The pair were weightless a moment before Aresta's wings opened and caught them. She threw up a magic veil in the process, shielding the demon and her corpse from prying eyes.

"Shit," she chided herself, "what a fucking mess."

Shyira wasn't going to like this, she wasn't going to like this one bit. She'd managed to fuck up her one task for the night.

****

The frat house loomed in front of him as they approached the party. Tom could hear the thumping of the music all the way at the sidewalk. Small groups of people stood around on the grass talking, many of them carrying around red plastic cup filled with cheap beer.

Tom was apprehensive already. He wasn't the partying type and this place was about as far away from his comfort zone as they came. Excuses and reasons for leaving were already swirling around head.

"They say that this is the place to be seen, tonight." Shyira said, as she looped her arm around his, cutting off his avenue of escape. It was like she could read his mind.

Do I want to be seen? He thought.

"Come on, it'll be fun." She tapped her hip playfully against his. "You never know who you might run into. You might meet someone interesting."

He doubted it. This wasn't the type of party to meet interesting people and engage in fascinating conversation. More like get alcohol poisoning and get arrested.

Eyes followed the pair as they approached the front door or eyes followed Shyira at least. She was overdressed for this type of party but rather than look out of place, it was like she had set a new dress code with her presence. Tom could already see girls self-consciously fidgeting with their clothing, subconsciously placing themselves in the new pecking order.

They entered through the front door to find a house packed with people. A small kitchen stood off to his left, currently functioning as a bar. To his right, furniture had been moved to create a dance floor that covered most of the living room. Tom barely had time to look at the room before a mountain of a man bumped into him.

"Who let this nerd fucker in?" The man called out drunkenly before stumbling away, his alcohol clouded mind already focusing on something else.

"My, now rude." Shyira said, her eyes narrowing.

Oh shit, he thought. He needed to defuse this. He needed to defuse this real quick before he ended up with another corpse in his apartment. "How about a drink, Shy?"

She turned back to Tom, her girlish veneer already obscuring the demonic anger that lay just below the surface. "I'd rather dance." She grabbed his arm and started to pull him onto the dance floor.

His feet became concrete as he dug his heels in. "I can't dance," he said sheepishly, his eyes on the floor.

"Of course you can," she said confidently. "There's nothing to it."

Tom's eyes didn't leave the floor. Shyira pressed her body to his, with one hand she lifted his head until he looked into her eyes.

"Please," she said, biting her lip playfully.

"I'd just embarrass myself." He said softly.

"You're a man, you're mostly dancing to show off the woman on your arm. I've got the hard job."

Tom still wasn't convinced.

"Here, let me show you."

Shyira stepped into the crowd like she owned it. She ran her hands through her blond hair and down the front of her body as her hips began to sway to the music.

He wasn't looking at the floor anymore.

Her dancing was a fluid thing, all liquid motion and sensual rhythm, perfectly in sync with the beat of the music. Tom's view of Shyira was unobstructed. None of the men in the room were brave enough or drunk enough to try and dance with her. The crowd seemed to respond to her every moment, like a trance had fallen upon them. From his vantage point, the shift in the room was clear. Dancers got closer together, their movements more sexual, more physical. A few of them were already opening making out on the dance floor. Articles of clothing were soon dropping to the floor like drops of blood out of an open wound.

Hypnotic, that's how Tom would describe it. Shyira always seemed to control every room she walked into, even when she was making no attempt to do so. Standing there, watching her, it was clear to him that there wasn't a moral on Earth that could resist her.

As she passed around the edge of the crowd, she grabbed onto the arm of a young sorority girl. The girl was red of hair and beautiful. Her curly red locks fell to mid shoulder and matched her red lipstick. The girl was dressed far more appropriately for a college party than Shyira was. Tight daisy duke shorts and a low cut top that showed off a lot of cleavage.

The girl looked momentarily surprised as she was pulled into the crowd, but was soon dancing close to Shyira. Their bodies played a sensual back and forth game. One girl would move and the other would move in response. They seemed to come within a hair of touching each other but never did. The effect made the pair seem like one body moving to the music, in perfect sync with each other.

The crowd got thicker, body pressed against body and Tom lost sight of Shyira.

Through the gaps in between the dancers, Tom caught glimpses of Shyira and girl dancing close. Shyira's head rested in the crook in the red head's neck, who's own head was thrown back. Her eyes were closed; her red lips open in a quiet sigh of pleasure.

The music died. Shyira's eyes cut through the crowd, as if Tom and her were the only people in the room. Locking eyes with her, Tom realized something, as the beginnings of an erection began to stir. Her wanted her. He wanted her badly. Ever since meeting Shyira, he'd spent a lot of time passively going with the flow. Like a leaf in the wind, he always seemed to be at the mercy of whatever was happening around him. Tonight he wanted to be the one taking control. Looking into the endless chasm of her eyes, he wanted nothing more than to throw her up against a wall and hear her screaming his name.

Another song started up. With these thoughts fluttering around his head, he did something out of character, he stepped onto the dance floor.

Shyira smiled at him as he approached her. Not a word was spoken as Shyira laid a hand on the other girl's hip, turning her body until the three of them were dancing a close circle.

Tom didn't know what the hell he was doing. He tried to follow the lead of his dance partners. That mostly involved trying not to step on anyone's toes. He tentatively reached out and put his hand on the Shyira's hip. He intended to pull her in for a closer dance. She only smiled a mischievous smile and brushed his hand away. Before Tom knew what had happened he found himself pushed away from Shyira and towards his other dance partner. The voluptuous red head threw her arms around his neck and Tom found himself dancing face to face with her.

He needn't have worried about his dancing skills. He wasn't good by means but by that hardly mattered at that point. The red headed beauty in front of him took the lead. She used him as a stripper pole as she danced to the music. One moment she would be grinding her body against his, only to quickly drop to the floor, her knees pushed apart as she carefully balanced in her high heels. Just as quickly, she would rise back up, her ass sticking out as she did. Tom couldn't help but enjoy himself. It wasn't exactly his type of music but he could hardly complain about the scenery.

"I'm Bailey." She yelled into his ear.

"Tom," he yelled back.

"You're a good dancer."

Bullshit. "Thanks." He yelled back. She must be drunker than she realizes.

The two of them danced through the song and then through another. Tom got bold has his confidence grew. He cupped her ass and pulled her in until their lips met.

They shared a long kiss that left them both hot under the collar and gasping for breath.

"You're a good kisser," she said, a dazed over look in her eyes.

"Thanks."

Tom leaned in for another kiss, but Bailey put her hand over Tom's heart to stop him.

"Want to go upstairs?" She said, her words heavy with lust.

Tom looked around the room for Shyira, but to no avail. The succubus was nowhere to be seen.

Tom shrugged at her absence. She did say that she didn't care if he was with mortal women. "Sure," he said at last.

****

Shyira walked down the sidewalk, her steps slightly unsteady. She was biting her lip. Her eyes were half closed as the first reverberations of Tom's pleasure began to wash over her. She gave a soft moan as her chest rose and fell in an increasingly rapid fashion. Her skin was hot and flushed.

A group of men catcalled her from across the street. They might as well have been on the other side of the world for all she cared. Most demons didn't understand why succubi associated with mortals; why they allowed themselves to be bound to warlocks. This was the reason. The pleasure felt through their bond, amplified by her master's power, was one of the most euphoric experiences in Hell or Earth.

She was going to enjoy this tonight.

She always had to be careful with Tom. She took just enough of his life force to sustain herself and keep her grounded on this plain. She would never starve but she would also never be completely full either. Shyira felt the flow of energy enter her from her bond with Tom. It was only a kiss, but it was a kiss that promised so much more. She could feel her full power returning, a trickle at a time. It wasn't a moment too soon. She had things to do, problems to take care of. Problems that required energy, far more energy than she was willing to risk taking from Tom outright.

****

They weaved through the crowd in search of some privacy. They need not have bothered. The entire room was in the opening stages of an orgy. Clothing littered the ground. Everywhere Tom looked, someone was engaged in some lewd act. Kissing, groping and so much more could be seen around the dance floor.

Shyira's doing, he thought.

His full attention came back to the woman in front of him as Bailey grabbed his arm. She half dragging him up the stairs behind her. He didn't mind, it gave him the perfect angle to look at her ass. Upon reaching the second floor, they came face to face once more. Tom finally decided to take the lead.

Bailey's back slammed against the door outside of the bedroom. She gasped in surprise, an excited gleam in her eyes.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place as Tom's body pressed her into the door. She could feel his erection grinding into her. Her breath came out in an impatient moan as she once again dove back in for another kiss.

She all but clawed at his shirt. Buttons tore off as her hands moved down his chest in a slashing motion.

Tom grabbed her by the throat, gently, but firmly holding her head in place as they kissed.

Reaching back, Bailey fumbled for the handle of the door. She awkwardly turned it until it released. They stumbled into the room as the door swung inward. Clothing dropped to the floor as they continued their journey across the room, kissing and exploring each other's bodies the whole way.

They were both naked by the time they reached the bed. It was clear that they were both done with foreplay. Tom pushed her backwards onto the bed before climbing on top of her. He wasted no time in diving his cock into the velvety heat of pussy. His body pushed her into the mattress as they came face to face.

That it! He thought. I just lost my virginity...well at least to a mortal girl, anyway.

She stared into his eyes, her breath hot and heavy upon his skin. Intimacy warred with primal lust as they grew more comfortable with each other's touch. Tom's hand found one of her breasts as Bailey wrapped her legs around his hips, forcing him further inside of her.

"I'm kind of a monogamous girl," she said, "I normally don't do this sort of thing."

"Y-you don't want to stop, do you?"

"Hell no!" She laughed. "I just want you to know that. I'm not the type of girl who brings strange boys home with her."

"Is it alright if I move."

"Yes," she moaned, "Fuck me."

Tom pulled is cock almost all the way out of her pussy. A soft whine of protest escaped her lips as he did. Her protests were quickly silenced as he pushed back into her pussy.

He started slow. This was his first time with a girl who didn't have wings and a tail, and Tom intended to savior every moment. Bailey's head was thrown back, resting on the sheets. Her eyes were half closed in pleasure as she lost herself in Tom's slow thrusts.

This lasted until Tom suddenly put his full weight into one powerful thrust. Bailey's eyes snapped open as they settled on the man in front of her. Something in her eyes seemed almost apologetic. Like she somehow felt guilty for not giving her partner her full attention.

They paused momentarily as they both leaned in for a deep passionate kiss.

Tom's thrusts soon turned hard and fast. Bailey found herself grabbing onto Tom's neck, holding on for dear life as he took his pleasure from her body. Not that she had anything to complain about. She had been fucked hard before, but there was something primal about the way he used her body. Something predatory.

He must have had a wild ex, she thought.

"Fuck you're good. Are you ready for your reward?"

"Yes." She said.

Tom threw back his head and made the dive into blissful release. His cum shot into her as her own orgasm came crashing down around her. His orgasm was less intense that with Shyira but felt no less amazing because of it. He felt none of the power drain on his system that he had begun associating with sex. None of the bone chilling exhaustion that left him almost unable to move. It was just sex. Plain, old, never really boring sex.

They collapsed on the bed in a sweaty heap, both of them trying to regain their breaths.

"God I needed that." She said.

"Yeah." Tom breathed, not really listening.

"No, I really mean it. The last couple of weeks have been really shitty for me. My boyfriend up and vanished without a word. It's had me really stressed out."

Tom was paying attention now. A deep ball of nerves settled in his stomach as a sinking suspicion crept over him.

It was like something had snapped into place in his mind. "Y-your boyfriend?" He said nervously. He couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"Ya, no one's seen him in weeks. Becky Linn said that he must have left me, but that bitch has been trying to get into his pants all semester."

Tom finally looked at her. Something about the way the lights played across her throat caught his attention. A pair of faint puncture marks could be seen glistening on her throat. The pieces began to fall into place in Tom's mind.

"Listen I have to go." He said.

"What?" She said, surprised. She wasn't the type of girl who had men walk out on her. "Well, will you call me?"

"Ya Ya. Sure I will." He said, not listening again.

All of a sudden this was the last place he wanted to be. He collected his clothes, while trying to ignore the scandalized look on Bailey's face. All the while, he slowly gave wings to the small spark of anger growing within him.

He needed to find Shyira.

****

Tom threw open the door. It banged against the wall, shattering the silence of the night.

"Shyira!" He called out.

He stomped through the front room, his anger reverberating on the wood floor with every step.

"In here, stud." Shyira called out lazily from the bedroom.

Tom threw open the door to the bedroom to find Shyira sprawled naked on the bed. She had dispensed with her human glamour and lay on the bed in all of her demonic glory. A pair of leathery wings lay draped over the bed posts. A pair of pale horns curved out of luxuriant hair the color of freshly fallen snow. Her tail hung loosely over the side of the bed, lazily moving back and forth to the toon of some unheard music.