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TWILIGHT OF THE GODS

ACT I:

BOOK II

Silent Inquisition Unabridged Edition

By: Kit & Khestra Karamak

" ...they will perceive the Esoteric truths and comprehend their Creator's wisdom as is the capacity of man. As it is written." (Isaiah 11:9)

Prologue:

Tuesday, August 29, 2023 - 8:40pm, PDT San Francisco, California ...

** Karla Anne Howard** slid off the lap of an unconscious man lying on a sofa.

She smoothed her skirt with her palms, and then tugged at the hem to free it of wrinkles. Karla snatched her underwear and pulled them up her legs.

With a flirty smile, she checked her appearance in a wall mirror. Blond hair, emerald eyes, pink lips, and a voluptuous figure stared back at her.

Her vibrant green gaze panned across the apartment and came to rest on her unconscious tryst, still sprawled out on the couch.

She brought a carnation-colored tube of lipstick to her lips. A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Karla reached for her handbag, shouldered it, and walked into a nearby bathroom. She fumbled for a light switch.

With a sigh of content, she placed her handbag on the bathroom counter and inspected herself in the reflection.

"You've still got it, girl," she murmured with a Cheshire smile. She lowered her gaze, drinking in her curvaceous teenaged reflection. She teased her hair with her fingertips. .

The man on the sofa opened an eye, struggling to stay awake. "How old are you?"

Karla's grin broadened. She stepped from the bathroom. "You talking in your sleep, lover?"

"How ... how old are you?"

"Let's just say ... in the Middle Ages I looked the perfect age for breeding or marriage. It's a shame that modern society treats people so differently, don't you agree?"

"How old?" he asked again, groggy.

"I'm legal."

"Barely legal?"

Karla offered him a playful, flirty expression. "Barely legal. That's what I tell all my paramours. Now get some rest."

"Can hardly keep my eyes open..."

Her grin evolved into a confident smile. "Yeah, sex with me does that to people like you. It's a necessary evil, sweetheart." She stepped back into the bathroom and ran her fingers through her canary locks.

The blond woman tugged at her V-neck collar. Satisfied it lined up with the canyon of cleavage she displayed, Karla leaned forward and kissed the mirror. Her lips left aa pink hued imprint over the reflective surface.

She retrieved perfume from her purse and spritzed it beneath the hem of her skirt. She stretched with a sigh of content. "Thanks again for the fun. I'll see myself out, sweetheart."

Karla gathered her belongings, shouldered her handbag and lifted her left hand. Her palm incandesced with a soft glow that matched the coloration of her painted lips and lacquered nails. She drew in a sharp breath...

In the blink of an eye she disappeared.

Seconds later, Karla reappeared in an alley just outside of the apartment building. She exhaled hard, rubbed her face, and glanced up at a fourth story window high above. Again, she stretched, followed by a sigh of relief.

A dumpster sat in her path, two feet in front of her.

The young woman scrunched her nose at the offending obstacle. She waved her hand at the heavy metal container. It scraped along the pavement until flush against the alley wall.

She smoothed the lay of her clothes again, withdrew a small tablet computer from her handbag, and thumbed the screen to life.

Karla sauntered down the street, picking up from where she left off in a novel. The words on the screen drew her into the storyline.

Her lips formed voiceless words. 'The incubus stepped from the corner by the window. Victoria's eyes widened, startled, and she cried out, muffled against her palms.'

A muffled cry brought Karla's attention back from the story. She looked around and eased the tablet back into her handbag.

Silence.

She shook her head, silently scolding herself for being draw into the story too deep.

She glanced at a clear cellphone wrapped around her wrist. It hung loose from her forearm like a bangle - one of the latest fashions.

Something halfway down a nearby alley caught her attention - the sound crying. She crossed the street and approached the mouth of the alley.

Two men pinned a woman to a brick wall.

"Guess I didn't imagine it," she murmured, tucking her e-reader back into her handbag. Karla clenched her teeth and set off down the alley. "Hey! Dickheads! Leave her alone."

One of the men turned around and pointed a gun back at Karla. "Oh, you walked down the wrong backstreet tonight, bitch. You should'a minded your own business." He brought his left hand up to the top of the weapon and pulled back on the slide, chambering a round and cocking the hammer back. "Obviously you need one of us to tame that smart little mouth of yours."

Karla narrowed her gaze. She shifted her large purse from her hip, so that it rested against the small of her back. "Who the hell cocks their gun to make a statement? You boys should know to keep a round chambered - never know who might sneak up on you in this neighborhood."

Fifteen feet ahead of her, the two men stood in front of a woman with the front of her blouse un-tucked. Mascara ran down her cheeks.

The accomplice turned to the man with the gun and said, "She's got one of those Apple watch things, that's gotta be worth some coin."

The gunman's eyes lowered then lifted, sizing up Karla. With a confident tone, he said, "Get it from her."

Karla held her wrist up, showing that the phone was a bit loose on her wrist. "Does this look like one of those Apple snap-wraps to you? Samsung, kid. Now, are you two going to leave that girl alone, or do we have a problem here?"

"Again with the smart little mouth," said the man with the pistol. "Let me show you what it takes to humble a girl like you."

Karla scoffed. "You sure you can perform under pressure? Or is it the thought of being in control that gets you hard?"

The gunman ground his teeth together "You little bitch, I'm going to wreck you like the World Trade Center."

With a huff of indignation, Karla waved her left hand. The man's gun jerked up from his grip and struck his jaw.

The force of the strike threw him from his feet. He glanced off the alley wall, flopped down onto the ground and rolled two times.

His body stopped in the middle of the alley, sprawled out on the concrete, motionless.

She stepped over him and approached the other man who, at a glance, appeared unarmed.

Karla narrowed her eyes again and set her purse down. She pointed at the young woman against the wall.

The girl blinked and pointed to herself, questioningly.

Karla hooked her thumb back. "Take a hike, sister. I'll handle these two dumbasses." Karla held her other hand, palm outward, to stop the accomplice. "But not you, pervert. You stay put until she's gone."

The woman left the alley, sobbing and embarrassed.

Karla cracked her knuckles. "Let's make this quick. I have an appointment to keep." She pursed her carnation painted lips. The accomplice returned her smirk.

Her eyes lowered and she took a moment to inspect her manicured, lacquered nails. They shined in the illumination of a streetlight by the mouth of the otherwise dark alley.

Karla ran her fingers back through her blond locks and tucked an errant strand behind her right ear. A grin tugged at the corner of her lips. Her eyes gleamed with mirth and delight. "This ... is going to be fun."

"Who the hell are you, kid?" he asked. "You're like ... fifteen years old - you think you can come down here and..."

"Are you blind? Didn't you just see what I did to your friend?"

The accomplice glanced at the gunman on the ground. He cut his eyes back at Karla. "My 'friend' obviously tripped."

Karla sighed in frustration. "Newsflash, I'm actually a demon. He didn't trip; I did that to him."

"You have an active imagination, little girl."

Karla rolled her eyes. She reached for the handgun, several feet away. Her hands tensed, and a subtle pink glow came from beneath the skin of her palms.

The pistol scooted across the concrete. It flew up into her grasp.

The man's eyes widened with shock.

Karla offered a demonic smile for effect. She drew her hand away from the weapon. However, the pistol remained aloft, floating in place as though suspended by strings.

Like a puppeteer, she wiggled her fingers; the slide of the handgun detached from the pistol. The magazine slid from the butt of the handle. A round levitated from the chamber and floated above the gun. A rail, a spring and the barrel moved away from the core frame of the Beretta.

The accomplice took a step back. "Jesus Christ..."

Her smile broadened. "All these parts just to make a more efficient killing device. I don't know about you but I find this kind of stuff fascinating, don't you?"

"Lady, please." His tone cracked like an adolescent boy. "Please."

"Please what?" She furrowed her brows.

He spoke in a hushed tone. "Please ... just ... don't kill me."

"Oh, I'm not a sadistic pervert like you." She paused. Her smiled evolved into a playful, flirty grin. "I take that back. I'm definitely perverted, just not sadistic." Karla cut her gaze to the left, quick to notice the other man getting to his feet behind her. "Or maybe I am. I have my moments. I'm a woman, you know. Being capricious is my prerogative."

She watched the other man's shadow on the wall. His silhouette doubled over. He picked up a piece of wood and lifted it high.

She took a step towards the accomplice in front of her. In response, he pressed his back against the wall. Her grin broadened to a genuine smile, delighted by his fear. She whispered mockingly, "You're friend must be so strong; he can pick up a busted piece of a skid."

"Lady, please," he repeated.

She kept her eyes on the shadow, which moved across the wall. "Pay close attention, because I'm going to make an example out of him."

She thrust her left hand towards the mouth of the alley, palm held outwards. The forty-caliber round, suspended above the hovering gun changed direction.

With a mere thought, inertia powered the bullet. It flew to the left and struck the man approaching Karla behind.

The man stopped in his tracks and released the wood board. It clattered on the concrete.

He dropped to his knees with an empty accusing glare. The fatally wounded attacker keeled over to the right, a groan of breath forced its way out of his lungs.

Silence.

She pointed back at the dead body and took another step closer to the accomplice. "See your friend? See the blood gushing out of his head? Look at him."

The man looked away instead.

Karla reached her left hand forward and took the accomplice by his greasy hair. "I said LOOK at him!" Karla forced him away from the wall so that he faced the body in the middle of the alley.

His lower lip trembled. Words failed him.

"I once dropped a gallon of milk at the supermarket," said Karla. "It broke on the floor. I remember watching the milk gush across the tiles, filling in the grout like a dairy flood."

The accomplice swallowed.

"See him bleeding out?"

"I..."

She arched her wrist, pulling his hair firmly, while keeping his face directed towards the dead man on the ground. "I asked if you see him. Do you?"

"Y-yes," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Karla leaned close and sneered. "Apparently a person's head holds a lot more blood than a jug does milk." She released the man's hair.

He turned away, cowering against the wall.

"Maybe I am sadistic after all, huh?" A grin tugged at the corner of Karla's mouth again. "Control your hormones. And stop bullying women, else you're next." She lowered her right hand. The pieces of the floating Beretta clattered to the pavement.

Tears trickled down the man's cheeks, glistening in the light of the streetlamp at the mouth of the alley.

The succubus glanced at the cellphone on her wrist with a wanton sigh. "I don't have time for your drama tonight."

"Don't kill me..."

She casually waved her left hand. The man against the wall fell over from an unseen force.

"Please, lady ... I learned my lesson."

Karla placed the kitten heel of her shoe against his forehead. "If I see you misbehaving again, I'll drive this stiletto through your eye, pal. Capicé?"

"I'll change, I'm sorry! If you let me live, I'll change, I swear to Christ. I'll go to church. I'll be different."

"Church?!" Karla bellowed with amusement. "Did you only say that because I told you that I'm a demon? And more to the point, did you hear yourself? You swore to Christ then, with the same breath, you said you're going to church. That's rubbish."

"Isn't that what Satan and demons do? They punish the wicked?"

Karla arched her brows in amusement. "You think I'm here to torment you? Seriously?"

"Aren't you?"

"Hell no, I was minding my own business. I just hate rapists, and you guys weren't after that girl's money, now were you?"

The man swallowed. "You killed him, lady. You just ... murdered him right there on the pavement. Are you going to take his soul to hell? How do demons even exist?"

Karla shook her head with an amused grin. "I guess I'm a necessary evil, douchebag. You got something else smart-mouthed you want to add?"

"I ... I'm sorry, I just..."

"Oh shut up. I want you to stay right here until I leave. Make sure you give it a few minutes because if I see you again, I'll assume you're following me. And then we'll really have problems." She glanced at the time on her bracelet cellphone again. "And it's not a goddamn Apple watch." She smirked, adding, "The 'Snapwrap' doesn't match my handbag."

He lifted his hands defensively, palms out, but said nothing.

Karla picked up her handbag and stepped over the dead body. "I guess I'll send your buddy to hell, now!" she called out in a sing-song tone.

The dead body vanished from beneath her. She continued into the darkness of the alley.

The man watched as she seemingly disappeared into the gloom.

Karla emerged at the far end of the alley, turned the corner and continued walking. She glanced about herself furtively, then, in the blink of an eye, disappeared once more.

Karla reappeared at the end of the block and sauntered out into the street.

The demon removed her tablet from her handbag again and logged into her Facebook page. She thumbed an update. She finished the post, switched back to the e-reader app and picked up where she left off in her novel.

She turned the corner at an intersection, eyes fixated on the story narrative. She continued to walk down the street, figuratively buried in her novel.

Karla groused under her breath, "That's not how a real vampire would talk. And you're killing me with this incubus guy coming to her in Victoria's dreams. I mean, seriously - dreams? Did this author get her source material on incubi from the Dark Ages?"

Karla's eyes continued to the bottom of the screen. "Still better than Fifty Shades." She thumbed the side of the screen, flipping to the next digital page. "Still. Gotta admit, it's a better love story than Twilight. Then again so were Larry and Balki." She thumbed to the next page. "Or Mork and Min--"

The ring of a cell phone startled her.

She put the tablet back into her handbag, withdrew designer sunglasses, and put them over her eyes.

A Bluetooth pairing logo flashed in the corner of the lenses, pairing to the clear cell phone bangle dangling from her wrist. She tilted her head up sharply, cleared her throat, and said, "Okay, Glass - answer call."

The Google Glass headset displayed a brand name in the white tinted shades. A bone-induction speaker, built into each arm of the frame, pressed against the skin behind her ears. A soft chirp played and the phone connected to the caller.

She answered with the practiced tone of a pretend sales clerk. "Vicky's Vibrators - we put the buzz in the fuzz - Vicky speaking, how can I help you?"

"Karla? Are you ever serious?"

She smiled, recognizing the voice. "Methos! Well now, it's been months since you've last talked to me. I figured you were avoiding me."

"I ... I'm sorry, Karla, but that's exactly what I was doing."

"Mm-hmm. So ... off topic - who was the best sitcom romance couple?"

"What?"

"Just answer the question. Jesus."

Methos sighed. Live video feed from his webcam appeared in the lenses of her sunglasses.

"C'mon, babe. Answer the question."

"Ralph and Alice."

"Oh, yeah, how could I forget about the Honeymooners? I was going with Mork and Mindy."

"Karla, I'm not calling you just to chit-chat."

"Okay, fine. To what do I owe the honor?"

Methos turned away from his webcam, so that Karla could see the side of his face in her lenses. He appeared annoyed. "I saw you updated your Facebook page."

"Yeah? I've been posting there since July of 2013, hon. Usually, I post photographs of things that amuse me, like stupid cats and hysterical memes," she said, pronouncing the word to rhyme with 'themes.'

"Yes, but your user name is 'Karla The Succubus.' Not exactly hiding as per the rules of the Esoteric Council. Anyhow, you just posted that you attacked a rapist in a back alley? That's disconcerting."

She sighed and shook her head. "I cleaned up after myself okay? I teleported the body into the concrete beneath the alley. God. Anyways, people think the Facebook page is just a humor site."

"Well, you're not exactly on good terms with anyone else in our so-called community, Karla. You use your abilities in public and you have a blatant disregard for authority. Not to mention everyone in this sect thinks you're overly promiscuous."

Karla balked. She gazed through the image of his face, held her left wrist up and smirked at the camera lens of the wrist-phone. She furrowed a brow, barely seen through the shades, making eye contact with the man on the other line.

He met her eyes, looking directly at the camera lens from his end of the conversation.

After the brief stare down she smiled. "Methos ... you know I'm a succubus. A bonafide 'sex demon.' Darling, I kind of need sex to stay young looking. If I age physically, it'll probably be a rapid event due to my age. If I start looking old, I can't get laid. And then I die. We've been over this. Besides, I'm proud of my proclivities."

The man on the other end of the line sighed. "People need to eat food to live, yet some people are gluttons who gorge themselves every chance they get."

"What'cha trying to say? I'm fat?"

"Figuratively, yes, you could go on a sexual diet, Karla. You don't need that much sex to stay immortal."

"Immortal," she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "Anyhow, you sure used to like fooling around with me."

"Karla..." Methos cringed in the display of her tinted lenses.

"How'd you get the name Methos anyhow? That's a TV show character created in 1995. Yet you've used that name for as long as I've known you."

He sighed. "Your friend, Nathanial Carrington, thought of it when I met him in 1907."

"Oh yeah? Well the character is the oldest immortal in the franchise. That makes me wonder if..."

"Stop." Methos rubbed his temples. "Can we get back on topic, Karla? You're out of control, feeding on everyone you meet."

"Yeah? So? What's your point?"

Methos leaned towards his webcam, as if eyeing her through it. "You've been acting this way since the beginning of the millennium. Ever since Marcus died."

"Hey!" She lifted her wrist and glared at the camera lens on her wrist-phone again. "Don't you dare bring up his name."

"I didn't realize that was still a sore issue for you."

"That's because you don't talk to me anymore, you jerk. And for the record, succubae and incubi are not supposed to be immortal. I could drop dead any day now."

"We've been over this, Karla!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Methos sighed. "You're over three centuries older _than the next oldest succubus. You _are immortal."

"I feel like I'm living on borrow time. Ever since Chance died," she said, referring to Marcus Howard, "I've felt like I'm going to join him one day."

"Karla, stop living like you're going to die any day now. For all we know, you won't age even if you stop feeding. My blood test results are..."

"I'm not willing to risk that. There's a difference between me acting like I might die soon, and me trying to hurry it along. Besides, we're talking about sex here. Who would want to give up what they enjoy most? My species is born for this. It's like asking a vampire to give up blood, or a mathematician to give up equations."

He shook his head. "This cavalier attitude towards life will land you in someone's crosshairs one day."

"Anyways. Look, you said you've been avoiding me, Methos - now you're calling out of the blue, and it's not because you were worried when you read my Facebook post. What do I owe the honor?" She cut her gaze forward, looking through his image in the sunglasses.

Methos sighed.

Karla drew a finger across the phone on her wrist, opening up a Google Maps application.

With her right hand, she gestured on the phone to partition the display in her shades, putting his face on one side and the map overlay on the other. The succubus continued down the street and arched her brows expectantly at the camera lens on her wrist. "Well?"

"There was a meeting called by the Grand Justiciar of North America..."

"Yeah, Reinhardt."

"You should call him by his title. It's a measure of respect."

"Reinhardt can kiss my Celtic white ass. I hate that guy. He acts like he owns every supernatural being alive. Moving on ... I know about the meeting, I was invited. I'm already on my way but I'm running a little late. Why would you call me about a stupid meeting set up by a stupid judge? That's a bit out of character for some mathematician who is avoiding the town rebel - what's going on?"

"Wait, you were invited? Karla..."

"What? What's the big deal?"

"I just learned about it tonight from one of my sources. The Justiciar called multiple meetings across the city all at the same time. He's invited every member of the Esoteric Community in the tri-county area."

"But you weren't invited?" she asked. "Well, aren't you older than the first supernatural human?"

"So? I have been an active member of the Esoteric Community since its conception, Karla."

"Big deal - he didn't invite you. I've never known you to be the jealous type, Methos."

"Karla, it doesn't strike you as odd?"

"What strikes me as odd is that the Grand Justiciar would schedule so many meetings at the same time. There's no way that Reinhardt St. Leonard can be in all those places at the same time."

Methos tilted his head and folded his arms. He leaned back, staring at his webcam.

Karla could tell he was sitting on a sofa hunched over a laptop or possibly a tablet with a stand.

He cleared his throat and said, "Karla, he's one of three documented people in the whole world that possesses the ability of astral projection. Of course he can be several places at the same time. The only thing I don't understand is..."

Karla cut in overtop and asked his question for him. "Why I'm invited to a meeting when the Esoteric Council hates my guts?"

"I was going to say I don't understand why the council would sanction having every supernatural person off the street at the same time. But you bring up a good question: Why invite you? After all, the sect refers to you as a 'pariah'. They typically wouldn't want anything to do with you."

"I know."

Methos sighed. "You brought attention to yourself, Karla."

"It's because of my tussle with the CIA."

"Which you've yet to explain."

She frowned with a shrug. "I heard they had a file on my father."

"And?"

"I need that to figure out how to find him. So I broke in and interrogated the head of the archives department. It turns out Hoover was the one who had a file on my father. So there it is. Maybe I'll break into the FBI next. Who's the guy who replaced Muller? I can't remember his name."

"Karla ... please don't say those kinds of things on the phone. You've probably PRISM-flagged the conversation now."

Karla smirked. "Edward Snowden. Terrorism. Jihad. American bombs over Laos. Conspiracy! White House! President..."

"Karla, stop." Methos sighed. "Now you're being childish."

"No, you're being paranoid, babe. So, back on topic, what's got you so hot and bothered about some dumb 'party' I'm going to, anyhow?"

He picked up whatever device he was using to hold the conversation and shifted his weight.

Karla saw the background change behind him.

He cleared his throat to keep her attention and said, "So, I looked into it further - turns out that there are meetings scheduled all across the globe, just a few days apart. Every person of our kind that I can account for has been invited through an encrypted Internet server and routed to a meeting point nearest to his or her home, all based on their IP address."

"Who would have access to all that information, and what for?"

"I don't know, Karla. But it's not a sanctioned event."

"This isn't an official event?"

"No, the Esoteric Council would never unanimously agree to schedule this. All these unsanctioned speakeasies were created just for tonight's event."

Karla shook her head. "Why would anyone want to have every one of us across the globe off the street at nearly the same time?"

"I don't know. Most of the ones in America and Canada are scheduled tonight. Mexico and South America, too."

Karla drew quiet. "Okay, when you word it like that ... it sounds suspicious. I thought you said you called me because you saw my Facebook update?"

"Karla, everyone else I've called has stopped answering their phone. Then I saw your status update so I called. I was relieved to hear you answer."

"Uh huh." She grimaced, letting her imagination run wild with theories. "So you think something happened to these other friends of yours?"

"I don't know."

"Methos, the weirdest part of this is that you weren't invited to one of these dumb meetings. Anyone else you know that is being kept out of the loop?"

"Steven and I weren't invited. Your friend Nathaniel wasn't invited and had no clue about the meetings. He would be concerned to hear you were invited but not him. Seems he still holds you in high regard."

The succubus smiled inwardly. "Nathaniel Carrington is an old man now. He probably forgot to check his email or something. Nobody in the community would 'forget' to invite him to something important. They treat him with more respect than they give to you because he was the flipping hero of Tunguska."

"Karla ... he checked his email. He wasn't invited. Think about what you're saying - the bureaucrats treat Nathan, myself, and Steven with the utmost respect. Yet none of us were invited. Either someone doesn't want us involved, or we're being sheltered."

"Or ignored all together. There's no mutiny here, because you three haven't been involved in the council, or any decision making. So, you want me to go, or do you want me to come find you?"

"You can take care of yourself. I want you to investigate."

"Oh, so now you need my help, huh? After avoiding me for a while, you actually want me to help you?"

"Karla, just hurry. I have a bad feeling about this."

She frowned and turned, following the Google Maps display in her sunglasses. "Now you're starting to worry me."

"I've decided I'm going to change my identity soon. You should change your last name as well, Karla."

"I'm sentimental about using 'Howard.' You know how I felt about Marcus. Anyway, why'd we ever stop talking, Methos? Remember when you took me under your wing as a pupil? I miss those days. You treated me with a lot of respect. What happened?"

"Karla, you are very intelligent, and you were a great student. If you could be just a little more responsible with your abilities, I'd be very happy to associate with you again. You've caused the E.C. a great deal of headache and stress and money trying to cover up some of the things you've done in the past - like that stint with the CIA."

"Point made. So ... are we friends again?"

"Unofficially, yes. But officially, no - being associated with you would tarnish my creditability with the sect."

Karla rolled her eyes. "The 'august body of the Esoteric Council' can kiss my tight, white, curvy Celtic ass. Did'ja get that, NSA? You still listening?"

"Karla ... this is what I'm talking about! Just..." He sighed. "Don't mention me to anyone else, okay?"

She smirked. "Yeah, yeah, we wouldn't want people to judge you for being friends with the psycho slut demon. God forbid your reputation is 'tarnished' babe."

"Karla..."

She cleared her throat and announced, "Okay, Glass! End call." The Google Glass display went dark in the lenses, and then immediately cleared. The left lens showed her GPS position adjacent to a checkered flag on the map.

She eased the shades from over her eyes and dropped them back into her purse. "Responsible with my abilities he says ... yeah right." She began counting the alleys, looking for the obscure address she received in email recently.

X

X

Chapter -1- Fashionably Late

Tuesday August 29, 2023 - 9:12pm San Francisco, California ...

** Karla opened her purse.** With her other hand, she tucked flaxen bangs back behind her ear and waved her palm over the top of the handbag. A fashionable pair of flats exchanged places with the heels she wore, making it difficult to close the purse. She wiggled her toes in the new pair of shoes.

An unmarked door greeted her halfway down a dark alley. She placed her hands at the bottom of her blouse and gave a gentle tug to free it of wrinkles. Her fingers closed over the hem of her black knee-length skirt and she gave another slight tug.

She ran her fingers back through her hair and licked her lips. "Better to be fashionably late anyways, I always say." Karla sighed long and loud to calm her nerves.

It took only a moment to apply a fresh coating of lip-gloss. Satisfied she felt her appearance was in order, she opened the door and stepped within, leaving her handbag on the wood tile floor.

Inside the building, eight motionless people lay strewn across the floor around a mahogany table. Wooden chairs lay on their sides adjacent to the bodies.

Karla ground her teeth together. "Methos was right. Dammit." She lifted her wrist and took a snapshot with her cellphone camera. Karla sent the image to Methos' number.

Without warning, a body flew into the main room and crashed into the wooden table.

Karla blinked, staring at the scene. "Jesus..."

A black mass covered the man's throat, which matched the black fatigues and gear vest he wore. The man kicked his legs wildly, reaching to the strange shade-like object around his neck.

A well-dressed gentleman casually strolled in from a nearby hallway. He turned to Karla and offered a smile. "Splendid; for a moment I worried they'd killed us all."

Again, Karla blinked with incomprehension. "...Christ."

"I surmise by the moue of disgust that doth mar thy visage," he trailed off, completely changing the style of his syntax, "that you find such wanton gore as distasteful as I. My apologies - I wished not to bare thee witness to such a scene, young lady."

She arched her brows at his odd speech pattern. Karla shook her head and motioned to the dead bodies around the table. "What the hell is going on here?"

The gentleman spoke slowly, as if trying to choose his wording carefully. "This mercenary _and his brethren ... _colleagues ... attacked our meeting without provocation." He waved his hand.

Shadows cast on the floor under the table came out from beneath the table's surface. They wrapped around the attacker's arms and legs and lifted him up evenly on all sides.

Karla's brows furrowed, "You control shadows, huh?" Her thoughts raced briefly. "I knew a woman who could do that. So, what did I miss?"

The suit-clad gentleman approached and told her, "I have subdued four of his ilk in the back room. These men in the black garb ... their actions, their doctrine, are unacceptable. They seek to slay us for reasons I cannot fathom."

"Their orders are to kill us? Big deal. I've been hunted before. No sweat."

"Quite so, but their orders are an anathema. An affront of..."

"Okay, stop." Karla cut her gaze to the soldier suspended by living tendrils of shadow.

The man remained silent. His hostage in the combat fatigues also remained silent.

Karla's eyes flit back to the man in the suit. "I'm Karla Anne Howard, by the way." She folded her arms beneath the swell of her ample bosom and approached the suspended soldier. "Hey, dickhead, I've already seen my share of blood tonight. I was supposed to meet with these people that you've killed."

The hostage struggled somewhat.

Karla glanced back over her shoulder at the suited man. "How'd his team pull it off anyhow? This room is full of elite supernatural people ... some who have lived twice as long as an average person. What happened?"

The gentleman adjusted his tie. He approached Karla. "Thou mayest call..." He paused, licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I mean to say I am Donovan Loupe," he said, pronouncing his last name like, 'loop,' adding, "with an 'e' on the end. I believe they enlisted the aid of someone with an intimate understanding of supernatural society members. When'st the doors flew open, I recessed into the shadows beneath the table. As I said, their orders are an anathema; there is deeply rooted peace between the world governments and the Esoteric Courts."

"You're killing me here, Donovan. An anathema, for Chri'sake." Again, she shook her head and shrugged. "Okay," she trailed off, took a deep breath, and exhaled through her nose. "Now tell me ... how'd all of this go down?"

He eyed her for a moment. "Ending a sentence with a preposition? Truly you rape the English language."

"Speak for yourself, Ren Fest."

Donovan reached his hand out. A tentacle of shade picked up the remains of a flash-bang grenade and placed the metal container in his palm. "I will do my best to speak so that thou may best understand mine tongue."

"Yeah. You do that." She unfolded, and then refolded her arms. Karla shifted her weight. "So, fill me in," she said with a smirk, purposefully ending her statement with another preposition.

He frowned in frustration.

"Go on," she said, doing it again.

"Thou art incorrigible."

"C'mon, you can do it in modern English. You just open your mouth and sound comes out."

Donovan eyed her with a sigh. "I saw this device come in through the window. It did skite across the floor."

"Skittered," she corrected.

"Indeed. Needless to say, I recognized such. I shifted into my tenebrous form; a sniper round passed through mine body. Several other shots rang out in unison. The others did not suffer. Death was instant for them." He offered her a wan smile. "I confess, luck is with thee this night."

"Yeah." Karla replied with a grim smile. She cut her eyes back to the eight dead people on the floor around the large conference table. "I guess there's something to be said for being fashionably late, huh?"

"Quite so. Meanwhile, I attacked the team that killed the eight other sect representatives."

"So what's with that guy?" She nodded towards the man in combat gear, hovering in the shadows above the table.

Donovan dropped the flash-bang shell and waved his hand at the suspended mercenary. "Let us ask him, mm?"

"Sounds like a plan." Karla turned back to the mercenary with an expectant expression on her face.

A thin layer of shade peeled back from the soldier's mouth. "Who sent thee? And, speak forthrightly of thy orders."

"Aris Falcon," the man replied from within the cocoon of tangible shadow. "Command wants ten dead freaks. I know all about you people. You manipulate the rest of the world with your God damned powers. You types own the Rothschild and Rockefeller families; some of you are behind the ebb and tide of everything from religion, to money, to political power. If you ask me, it was people like you who allowed things like Nine-Eleven to happen, you filthy mother fu-"

Donovan replaced the strip of shade over the man's face again. "Heavens me." He turned to Karla and tilted his head. He spoke calmly, as though thinking about his wording before speaking each line. "They are quite delusional, if not blindly vexed. I was under the assumption that the world rid itself of these puerile crusaders by the start of the industrial age."

Karla sighed. "Puerile? Really? You can't just say 'dumb' or 'childish' huh? You gotta speak above everyone around you?"

"I..." he eyed her for a moment. "I assure you that wasn't my intent."

"I'm giving you grief, babe. One day you'll thank me for taking my time to help you get away from that anachronistic tongue. See? I can do big words too. There's a time and a place for it."

"Any time one opens his or her mouth is the proper time to show one's education."

Karla chuckled. "Okay, I kind of like you, Donovan. Right now, though..." She motioned with a delicately manicured hand for Donovan to allow the mercenary to speak once more.

She approached the suspended man. "Hi again, darling. So ... Aris Falcon, huh? I knew a man named Aris once. Smart guy. So ... who _is_this boss of yours, and why did he order an attack? Furthermore, how'd he know about tonight's meeting?"

Loupe peeled back the strip of shadow from the soldier's face.

"He's a scientist who is funded by private sectors; backed by multiple governments around the globe. He studies freaks like you on the genetic level and he's going to kill all of you."

Karla swore under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"I said F'ing hil-laddiad." She tucked a lock of blond behind her left ear followed by a softly spoken string of cusswords, some in English, some in Welsh.

Donovan furrowed a brow and glanced at her again. "Such a vituperative outburst, young lady?"

She cut her sea-green gaze over at Donovan. "Who even talks like that ... vituperative outburst - really?"

Donovan shook his head with a sigh and adjusted his tie once more.

She grinned at Donovan. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, sweetheart." She turned back to the soldier, but continued to address Donovan. "Anyway ... c'mon, babe. Don't you know anything about cliché stories with 'good' facing off against 'evil,' and all that nonsense? Haven't you read books? Watched cinemas or televised programs?"

He shook his head after each question.

Karla groaned. "Haven't you listened to fictional radio stories? Anything?"

"Speak thy point, Miss Howard."

Karla offered a dull glare. "He just told us everything we wanted to know. Either he's lying or he thinks we're going to die soon, which means he has backup. When his team doesn't report in, the so-called cavalry will come crashing through the doors with serious firepower. That's how this crap works."

"Then we should leave now so we can warn the sects about this Falcon fellow." Donovan adjusted the knot of his tie again. He brought his right hand to his left forearm, standing with regal posture.

Karla watched him toy with a cufflink. She glanced back at the mercenary. "Okay mister ... since you're so confident that you're going to kill us, where can I find this guy Aris Falcon?"

"Go to hell, bitch."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh boy. This guy is a trip. Donovan was it? We should leave immediately. Forget about this loser and we'll roll out."

"I wholeheartedly agree we should leave."

The door at the opposite side of the table blew inwards. The wooden door skittered across its spine and slammed into the conference table.

Karla and Donovan glanced from the damaged door to the empty doorframe.

Hinge plates swayed free in the doorframe. An obscuring miasma of fog rolled into the room.

Karla narrowed her gaze. "Mist? Seriously? That's cliché, too. Who are these morons?"

"Miss Howard, I believe that is smoke from the discharge used to blast open the..."

Ten soldiers dashed into the room. Two of them held metallic cylinders with tubes on one end. Each man's tube had a small blue flame at the tip.

"Great, who are these asshats?"

Donovan closed his hand into a fist. "By His blood, young lady, they have flamethrowers - we are outnumbered." He clenched his fist tightly. Donovan's shadow cocoon crushed the mercenary at the center of the room. "We must withdrawal! Let us do so with the utmost haste."

The tar-like shade muffled the mercenary's brief scream. The body dropped to the floor.

Donovan sprinted for the back hall and held both hands up. A wall of shadow came from beneath the table at the center of the room, blocking the men that poured in through the front door.

Karla tensed up, ready for anything. Muted pink glyphs illuminated the underside of her hands.

The back door, leading to the alley, flew open. The doorknob lodged itself into the wall.

Five more men dashed in with silenced submachine guns. Their flash-suppressed barrels bucked with a spray of rounds.

Karla's palms brightened with a soft carnation hue. The incoming bullets came to a midair stop in front of her aloft hand. She paused to examine the floating ammunition. "Nine millimeter? You think you're going to stop someone like me with something like this?"

She waved her hand outward and the rounds telekinetically flew back in the direction from which they came. The bullets connected with the armored vests of the gunmen.

The five attackers crashed to the floor with one clutching at his throat. Blood bubbled up between his fingers and ran down the front of his black uniform.

"Thou wouldst stay and engage them?" Donovan exclaimed from the hallway. "We should make haste!"

"Now I'm pissed off," she snapped in return. "Go warn whoever. I'll take care of this."

"I see you're quite the mercurial girl when vexed." Donovan turned about in the hall, facing the main room. "There are too many. Come! We can worry upon them anon."

"I'm staying!" Karla replied.

Donovan sighed in frustration. "They're trained to fight our kind, yet we have virtually no intelligence gathered on these men!" He clenched both hands, reinforcing the wall of shadow that blocked the attackers at the front entrance.

"Trained to fight me? Yeah, I've heard that before." A roar of noise came from the front. Karla glanced over her shoulder. She saw down the hallway, behind Donovan, where flames punched through the wall of shadow.

"We must leave!"

As an after thought, she grinned and said, "Mercurial huh? You're a trip. And I'm not going anywhere. Like I said, they've pissed me off."

"Aye, thou art mercurial. Whimsical, impulsive, inconsistent..."

She rubbed her hands together, watching as the flames forced their way through the wall of shadow.

Sweat beaded up on his forehead, trying to keep the wall intact.

She glanced back at the black wall. "Yeah, yeah. Capricious, erratic, quicksilver. Enough with the thesaurus. I know what it means, babe. I've been called much worse at much higher volumes. Women are fickle - that's nothing new, love."

"Thou art a succubus, correct? I know not of thine weakness, but mine is flame." He turned to the two men with the flamethrowers and tensed his arms.

The hallway between the front and rear was short. Karla glanced to the left, peering into a janitorial closet. She turned right, gazing into a bathroom. "You're trapped, Donovan. Get the hell out of here while I hold them off."

Donovan's knuckles turned white. Shadows rose up from beneath the men at the front entrance. The black wall of shade stifled the front of the flamethrowers. He tensed his body and narrowed his gaze, trying to smother the flames. Donovan ground his teeth together.

"I told you I've got this covered."

"I'm not the sort of man to leave a lady's side during such a confrontation. Retreat wouldst be in kind, but I shall not abandon thee if thy heart's wish is to stay." A line of tension marred his forehead.

"Well, look at you. A stout spine." Karla looked him over. "You're struggling, shadow man?"

Donovan spoke as if under the duress of heavy weights. "'Tis not quite as easy as cutting oxygen from around a candle, Miss Howard!" Sweat trickled down the side of his face. The flames continued to melt a hole at the center of the shadow wall. In a matter of seconds, the flames forced their way through the barrier.

Karla sighed and rolled her eyes. "We don't have time for this drama." She waved her left hand and both flamethrowers disappeared, along with the ski masks worn by the attackers.

The cylindrical weapons reappeared jutting out of the men who once wielded them. The two men fell to the floor, twitching briefly.

She shook her head with a sigh. "What a shame. I despise having to kill handsome men."

Karla took a step towards the front entrance of the building. Her body disappeared from besides Donovan Loupe.

She reappeared at the center of the remaining eight mercenaries and thrust her palm into the nearest attacker. Her strike, amplified by telekinesis, sent the closest man into two more, which bowled over all three.

The demoness smiled at another mercenary. With a playful wink, she reached to the right and touched a single lacquered fingernail against the barrel of his pistol. "Oh, and you're just a doll-face, sweetie. Sorry, but this will hurt."

A chambered bullet exploded from the back of the weapon and pierced the gunman's body armor. He dropped to his knees, favoring his gut.

Karla reached down and patted his cheek. "You're adorable, so I decided to spare your face, sweetness. Stay down."

A soft pink glow started at her chest, muted by the fabric of her blouse. Her arms, forearms and palms incandesced to match - she tensed up with a grimace.

Karla thrust both hands out in two directions and discharged the stored telekinetic energy outwards.

The remaining four men blasted backwards into the far left and far right walls becoming embedded within. "I don't have time for this mess. I mean, Jesus Christ, you know? They brought flamethrowers? Really? Overkill, if you ask me."

Donovan drew a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his blazer. "They assumed me to be the last man standing." He pressed the folded cloth against his forehead. "They doth knew mine weakness."

"You're mixing your syntax again."

Donovan shook his head and continued. "Had they turned this room into a structure fire, I wouldst nay escape nor would I be able to stifle said flames. I know not how they intended to deal with thee."

Karla furrowed a single brow at him in regard to how easily he switched between archaic and modern speaking. "The flash-bang," she replied. "I can't control objects or defend myself if I can't see. My abilities of teleportation and telekinesis may be focused through my arms and hands, but without my sight it's pretty useless."

"Again, thou art lucky to be late because such was their opening maneuver." Donovan adjusted his tie again. "NOW would'st thou accompany me to the nearest egress?"

"God, enough with the archaic talk. It's annoying, Ren Fest."

"Canst we now leave? I beseech thee."

"You can beseech and implore all you want. Just say please! Christ."

"I crave thy indulgence; I neither think nor speak clearly when anxious." He looked around at the surrounding wreckage, sighed, and turned to face her. "Please?"

She winked. "I knew you could do it." With a smirked, Karla walked towards the back hallway. She reached out and patted her hand against the cheek of the man whose face she spared.

The injured mercenary flinched, shying away from her.

Karla teleported to the other side of the large conference table. She stepped over one of the eight dead supernatural people, and passed through the short hallway.

She led Donovan into the rear room with the alley entrance. Her handbag was still besides the doorframe with a handful of injured mercenaries blocking the exit.

Karla cleared her throat expectantly. She approached the door leading out to the alleyway. "Are you boys going to fight to your deaths, too? Or can you send a message to Aris Falcon for me?" She perused her fingernails to hide the fact she was tensing her forearm. Her eyes lifted from her lacquered nails - their ski masks disappeared, showing their faces.

The man who'd taken a bullet in the throat appeared dead.

The other four looked up from trying to resuscitate him. The one closest to Karla pulled a handgun and pointed it at her.

She grimaced. "I'm disappointed, boys." The succubus tensed her right hand, again causing her palm to glow briefly.

One of the bullets in the pistol's magazine shot from the handle of the weapon. It burst from the gunman's gloved hand and raced towards Karla. The round stopped in midair and turned about.

She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. The deformed bullet, bloody from passing through the gunner's finger, glistened in the overhead lighting.

Karla lifted her gaze.

The gunman appeared in shock. His lower lip quivered.

She carelessly flicked the bullet aside. The mercenary's shout of pain came simultaneous to the round bouncing across the floor.

One of the soldiers quickly pulled his teammate's hand aside and started to wrap a ripped piece of cloth overtop the other man's bloody glove.

Karla took a menacing step towards them. "The bloody glove fits! I'm Ito, and you're guilty!"

The other two stood up quickly, hands outstretched and empty. "Whoa, wait, said one of them, "Just tell us your message."

"Christ," said the other, coming to his feet, "You ... you look like you're a kid." He licked his lips apprehensively and added, "I, uh, think my sixteen-year-old daughter might actually be _older _than you."

"I look younger than I am," Karla said, eating up the compliment with a smile. "Now..." She tilted her head. "Tell your boss that Karla Howard is going to find him and telekinetically drive every-single-one of his teeth up into his skull."

Silence.

Karla pressed her hands together and cracked her knuckles. The display offered a lackluster result, a mere three pops from her fingers.

The one getting his hand wrapped glared up at her from where he sat on the floor. "We don't take orders from you, witch."

"Oh, how about that," she sneered in reply. "Your intel sucks, too. I'm not a witch, dumbass. I'm a female demon. Get your facts straight. A succubus. I live on the excretions of sex. Did your jerkoff boss, Falcon, really send you guys in to fight people you know nothing about?"

No one replied.

She cut her eyes over at Donovan and saw him cringe from the way she spoke. Her gaze panned back to the men on the floor.

The injured man getting his hand wrapped clenched his teeth in anger. He jumped up, used his free hand to pull another gun, and fired it.

Without warning, he disappeared followed by everyone in the doorway. His bullet struck a wall at the back of the room.

"I put them on the rooftop two buildings over." Karla picked up her designer handbag from the floor adjacent to the door and shouldered it. "I considered dropping them from the sky, but I think I've made enough of a mess for one day."

"Such is greatly appreciated."

She turned back to Donovan with a smile. "Mister Loupe, I admire your ability to control shadows but ... my dear sir, you were just saved by a girl."

"Indeed I was. Know that I am grateful for such." He sighed softly. "It would be wise if I follow them."

"How?"

"I'll assume the shadow of one of them and stay underfoot to track his whereabouts. When I've learned something, I shall find you and let you know where this Aris Falcon character is located."

"Jesus, you can do that? That explains why I never had any privacy around her."

"Of whom do you speak?"

"Never mind, it's not important."

"Very well. I shall see thee anon." Donovan turned for the doorway.

Karla shook her head and held a hand out. "No, no, wait. Don't go. C'mon, I've seen this cheesy B-movie already."

"I beg your pardon, Ms. Howard?"

"This is how it'll work: They report to the boss on a webcam or over an encrypted cellphone from a secure area. They won't meet him in person, Mr. Loupe."

"Why not?"

Karla laughed. She ran her fingers back through her lengthy blond locks. "Because lowlife pawns don't do that sort of thing in this day and age. Plus there're middlemen to manage the gap that Falcon will put between himself and his lackeys. Don't even waste your time. It's easier to draw them out."

"But..."

"Just relax." She approached Donovan, reached for his tie, and adjusted it for him. "And stop playing with your Windsor. You're not coping well with this attack. Just calm down."

"It's a double Windsor."

"It's a mess, now. Why wear this style of knot anyhow?" She used her thumbs to fix the way the knot became bunched up in the front.

"It is a personal favorite of Justiciar Reinhardt. My grandfather was the man who trained Reinhardt for his job."

"Reinhardt is a judgmental prick. He's also racist against mundanes. You really shouldn't aspire to be like that twit." She unknotted his tie and moved around behind him. "This will only take a moment."

Donovan sighed and lowered to one knee. "Ms. Howard, this is neither the time nor the place..."

"With an attack like this, do you really think the Esoteric Council will be very far behind? I'm giving them five minutes to show up and investigate."

"Ah. You wish not to flee the crime scene. I understand." Donovan lifted his chin a bit.

Karla moved closer, pressing her chest against the back of his head while she worked on his tie. After a moment, she put the finishing touches on his tie. "This is _my_variation of the four-in-hand, darling. You'd look hot in a cravat, though."

Donovan stood up and smoothed his hands over his shirt and vest. "What if more attackers show instead?"

"Yeah, you're right, Mr. Loupe. Let's get the hell out of here."

He nodded and motioned for her to follow. "We need to locate this man, Aris Falcon, and find out why he's attacking supernatural people." Donovan headed into the short hallway at the far end of the room.

"Look, I usually don't like getting involved in this kind of shit. When I do, people wind up dead. But I promised someone I would look into this crap. So I'll stick around, but only for a little while."

Donovan opened a door to a bathroom. He turned on the lights, approached a sink, and thrust his hands beneath the faucet.

Karla watched the way he washed his hands, pushing his thumbs into his palms as if trying to wash off unseen caked-in grime.

He reached for the soap dispenser, drenched his hands in the frothy foam liquid, and lathered it over his skin.

"Are you a surgeon?"

"No. I own a jewelry store."

"Oh. You're washing your hands like you're a surgeon."

"I take it you've been with a surgeon before?"

"I..." She trailed off and thought for a moment. "Maybe I saw it on TV show. I used to love Scrubs, it was a funny show."

"You can't remember if you've ever slept with a surgeon before?"

"Look, I've been a succubus for a long time, okay?"

"I do not judge such, Ms. Howard. I am not so narrow-minded that you should be concerned with my thoughts."

Karla stared at Donovan in silence. She watched the way he continued to wash his hands to the point of excess. "Did it bother you to kill that mercenary?" she asked with a frown.

His expression dimmed and his voice lowered. "It's not the first life I've taken," he replied, adding, "I should have let him live but I couldn't fight men coming through the door and still restrain the one adjacent to us. I made a snap decision, albeit a poor one in retrospect."

"Your wording is getting a little better." Her statement went ignored.

Donovan continued to wash his hands, ensuring his nails were incredibly clean.

She frowned again. "Listen, it was a smart move. If you focused on holding those other guys at bay, the detainee would have..."

"Ms. Howard..."

"Seriously, Loupe. You were distracted by the flamethrowers. You didn't have time to worry about one more guy. You made the right call."

"Nay. I detest killing. It makes me feel ... unwholesome."

"Excuse me?"

Donovan's eyes lowered. "Taking a life is disgusting. Afterwards, I feel tarnished and sullied on the deepest level."

"Listen, Mister Loupe, take it from a sex demon ... when you kill in self-defense, you're not 'defiling your soul'. I can 'taste' the difference between murderers who enjoys killing, and a soldier who defended himself. You're more of a scholar aren't you?"

Donovan sighed, glaring at the water running over his hands. "Enough please."

"Relax, babe. Self-preservation is at the core of human instinct. Defending yourself doesn't make you a killer."

Silence.

Karla continued. "People will fight to preserve everything from their own life, to their reputation, to their family and heritage. People fight to preserve their beliefs, honor, and their..."

"Cease thy banter!" he snapped, and then abruptly frowned. "My apologies. I didn't mean to raise my voice to you. Regardless, Thou art certainly too much of a lady to be surrounded by all this ... death."

Karla offered a brilliant smile. "Well aren't you just a sweetheart. I'm delighted anyone would think I am 'too much of a lady' for _any_thing."

"Thou art." He sighed through his nose. "It is apparent in the way you take pride in your appearance."

"I'm attractive, sure, but that's a genetic trait that helps me survive. Beyond fashion and primping, there's nothing ladylike about me. Christ, you should see me eat. It's not very becoming. Trust me, babe, my appearance is all genetics."

Donovan continued to scrub his hands under the water. "I am not sure I follow."

"If I go a week without sex, oral or penetration, I become sick. If a succubus goes two weeks, she will start to age and, ultimately, die. I feed on something found in sexual secretion; gender doesn't matter, just the juice. Maybe it's life energy, I don't know how it works."

"I ... am not sure how the genetics of your appearance is a factor?"

"I'm a succubus and that's how we're designed. If I was ugly and I couldn't get laid ... I would die. So physical beauty is a genetic trait to help me survive."

He leered at her momentarily. "Exactly how does one gain sustenance from bodily fluids?"

"I don't know the science behind the magic," she retorted. "I just know that my kind needs it to live or we die. Yes, I eat actual food too. It's kind of like how vampires need blood, you know?"

Donovan looked away with a sour expression. "Please, stop."

"Look, you're obviously uncomfortable with this topic. Let's talk about getting out of here and finding a way to protect ourselves in the future, Mister Loupe."

"Just ... Donovan," he said. "Where art thou headed this eventide?"

"I have a house in San Leandro. Where are you headed, Donovan?"

"I live in San Francisco. We do not know the extent of their intelligence files. It would be best if we did not return to our customary places of residence, nor other habitual places of dwelling. At least not tonight."

Karla licked her lips with a devious grin. "Fine. You're right. Let's get a hotel so we can watch each other's back. We'll need to weigh our options, then we'll need to contact one of the other sects and spread the word about this guy, Falcon."

Donovan frowned.

She noted the way he eyed her and smiled brilliantly in return. "Come now, I won't hurt you. Hell, I might just give you the most gorgeous sleep you've ever had, though."

"I'm not interested."

Karla offered a playful grin. "In women or in me?"

"In thee. You look too young for my taste."

"Yet I was born in the Stuart era. I emigrated from Wales to America in 1632." She linked her arm into his.

"Stuart, hmm?"

With a thought, she teleported them into the alley outside. They began walking together. "Donovan, stay near so I can protect you. Do not go to any other supernatural people tonight."

"Why not?"

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Because if these men are attacking multiple people from multiple sects all at the same time, you might be walking in on another attack. Just lay low until tomorrow."

"You sound as though you have a measure of experience with this issue.

Karla grinned inwardly. "I've seen this sort of thing before. When the village wants to flush out every witch in town, they attack every suspect on the same night at the same time. They deputize a bunch of young, strong, trustworthy boys. They kick in ten doors at the same time and have an enormous public burning."

"Then I surmise the hotel is our only option."

A smile spread across her lips. "Exactly." She eyed him. Her smile broadened. "I'm older than you, aren't I?"

"Actually, yes. I was born in 1805 to wealthy parents vacationing through Prague."

"Georgian era, huh? Mm, I remember those days." Her smile changed to a sly grin and her eyes sparkled with the mirth of fond memories. "But, to be honest, some of my best times were in the Victorian era. Anyway. Go on," she goaded.

"It is my understanding that my parents died in a house fire when I was attending Oxford. I finished my final year in Cambridge. After, I moved to Massachusetts in America and, with many others during the Gold Rush, came out to California when a travel caravan presented itself."

"You've got a few years on you then, don't you ... I like that."

Donovan nodded. "Interesting. Most supernatural people age normally. It's rare to find someone ageless like myself."

"A succubus stops showing physical signs of aging halfway through adolescence. Puberty is strange for my kind," she explained. "I suppose I appear somewhere between fourteen and fifteen years old, albeit a little over-developed in the chest, yes? When's the last time you've experienced the comforts of a woman?"

"We've only just met," he replied. "It seems trite to speak of such things to a woman, regardless." He paused.

She folded her arms and arched her brows.

Donovan sighed. "Three years."

Karla's smile broadened. "You poor dear." She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Although you might be wrong about going to a habitual place. Because if these guys are good enough to track us to these meetings, then they're good enough to track you and me. So maybe we should go to a place where we have a lot of options and know the area. Just trust me, I've got an idea."

"I, myself, am out of options. Due your age, I have to assume you are an expert at self preservation, so I trust you."

"You know ... I have a friend who thinks it's damned odd that these meetings are all scheduled at the same time. He says it's a red flag to pull every supernatural off the streets at the same time and put them into groups. You've got to admit, it's pretty damn peculiar and it's not the Esoteric Council's standard operating procedure."

Donovan nodded with a frown. "Let us attempt to survive this night together, and then we can analyze such. I was not aware that other meetings were called throughout the city. But if such is the case, we should find the next one and warn them that our speakeasy was attacked."

"And lead those 'Men in Black' to another target? I don't care for the supernatural community or it's governing body but I'm not about to get involved in something that could cause more drama for the council ... or for me. Plus, if they are attacking all the meetings in one night, then we might be walking in on another attack, like I said earlier."

"Very well. We ride out the storm this evening and lay low until morning."

Karla patted his back affectionately. "Now you're talking. Hold tight, I'm going to take us across town; my way can't be directly followed. Don't worry, Air Karla is perfectly safe. Now, prepare for takeoff."

They disappeared together.

X

X

Half an hour later August 29, 2023 Millbrae, California ...

** Karla casually ** inserted a keycard into a hotel room door. She pulled it back out and opened the door.

"Can you not simply teleport us inside the hotel room?" asked Donovan. He glanced back over the railing behind him and scanned the 'L' shaped hotel from where he stood at the far end of the second floor.

"And what if something was out of place in there?" Karla gestured him inside. She followed him in and shut the door. "I'd hate for one of us to re-materialize just on the other side of that door with a chair sticking out of our knee."

"You can fuse objects together using teleportation?"

Karla nodded with a grin. "Oh, I can see it now! Your leg would wind up half-embedded in a Millbrae hotel chair, and we'd have to amputate! Tomorrow, the Chronicle would claim that the Navy Yard was 'degaussing' a ship in the bay! No thank you."

Donovan eyed her suspiciously. "I'm not sure I follow the joke."

She sighed with a roll of her eyes. "The Philadelphia Experiment? The USS Eldridge? Project Rainbow?"

He shook his head.

"Seriously?"

Donovan shrugged his shoulders.

Karla offered a pleasant smile. "It's okay. Everyone else was focused on the war at the time; it became pop culture after a book hit the shelves decades later."

Donovan said nothing.

She locked the doorknob and the deadbolt.

Donovan remained quiet.

Karla walked to the bathroom and crossed her fingers behind her back, adding, "I swear I had nothing to do with that Naval incident, by the way."

"Mm..." Donovan looked around the hotel bedroom.

Karla reached for the bathroom door but changed her mind and left it open. She approached a mirror, touched up her hair with her hands, and removed her blouse.

Donovan stared at the sleeping arrangement of the room with a quirked brow. "One bed?"

Karla smirked. "One bed." She turned back to the mirror and reached behind herself. Karla unclasped each hook of her bra. She placed it on the sink counter and brought her hands up to gently rub and scratch her nails underneath her breasts.

"What is your plan?"

She grinned at her reflection in the mirror. "Keep an eye across the way. If the 'men in black' show up knocking on the door at the far end we'll know they're trying to track us."

"You rented one room across the way on credit card and this one in cash?"

Karla smirked and shook her head. "I don't have that kind of money. I'm friends with the boy at the front desk. I told him I'm ducking an obsessed ex-boyfriend. He rented me my normal room in the computer, but gave me the keys to this room."

"And we have direct line of sight to the other room?"

"Yup." She shimmied her body out of her skirt. Karla put it on the bathroom counter with her bra and blouse. "Donovan, I sleep in the nude, dear. That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"I'm not shy of women, Miss Howard."

"Please, just Karla. I'm glad you're okay with this." She slipped from her panties, gathered her clothing into her arms, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Donovan remained silent.

Karla sauntered past him. She laid out her clothes neatly on a nearby recliner and snapped her fingers.

Donovan's blazer, dress shirt and dress pants appeared on an adjacent lounge chair, laid out neatly with his tie draped over the backrest. "Oh, cute! Boxer-briefs! Isn't that adorable!"

He eyed her again, moving alongside the mattress towards his clothes. "They're just underwear, Karla. And I do not sleep in a state of undress."

"But cute none-the-less," she said with a smile. She approached him and placed her palms on his chest.

"What are you doing...?"

"Enjoying the stakeout." She gave a gentle shove.

Donovan dropped onto the mattress, propped up on one elbow. "I'm not quite sure this is going to work out. I'm not accustomed to a woman being so forward."

She gazed down at him. Her bangs slid forward, partially obscuring her left eye. With a coquettish smile, Karla placed her left hand on his chest, trailing her fingertips downward over his washboard stomach.

"Karla..."

"If you like the coy, demure female ... well, I suppose I can play that way, too. I know a man sometimes likes to be the one to chase, to feel like he has control of the situation. But ... I'm starving."

"Karla, thy obstinate forwardness is overwhelming. Thy concupiscence is..."

"Shut up with renaissance festival talk. Besides, you know you like it."

"I find this situation..." He frowned, looking up at her. "Tis awkward."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm not asking you to have sex with me," she told him.

"You aren't?

Her smile broadened. "If you wanted to, that would be fine. I just ... want a taste." She dropped down to her knees at the edge of the bed, and moved on all fours until she was between his ankles.

"Ms. Howard..."

"Karla," she corrected. The succubus placed her palms on his thighs and closed her teeth over the front of his boxers, giving a playful tug on them.

Donovan pursed his lips together, trying not to show any sign of expression.

She spoke in a muffled tone over the fabric. "Just ... a taste. You'll let me, won't you?"

X

X

Ten minutes later...

** "We think the last two are holed up together."** The mercenary handed his binoculars to a woman in her mid-twenties earing a plain black windbreaker.

The young woman ran her fingers back through her vibrant blue hair, took the binoculars, and gazed through them. "I sense the presence of two people with active abilities. What makes you think they are the two supernaturals that escaped from Grid Seven? Is this the room the demoness uses for most of her trysts?"

"Yes, Miss Monroe. We've never tracked her to her residence but we know she uses this room quite often. In fact, she's never rented any other room at this hotel."

"There's no denying what I sense - there are two people there with abilities." Krys Monroe gazed into the binoculars again. She counted the number of cars in the parking lot.

"We think the shadow master is with her," said the mercenary squad leader. He adjusted his black flack by giving a tug at the left side. "We checked the jewelry shop Donovan Loupe owns but he isn't there. Do you want us to call Volunteer 606?"

Krys Monroe looked back from the binoculars and said, "George, how long have you worked for me?"

George Zukis frowned. "Four months, Miss Monroe."

"Have you ever known me to call those whack jobs? They're the worst firefighters in the city. They let the fire get out of control, then it takes half the city's emergency response teams to contain it. That would draw the attention of the media, now wouldn't it, George?"

Zukis frowned. He rubbed his forehead where his ski mask was bunched up above his brows. "Miss Monroe, that's their job. They burn down buildings to kill supernatural beings for religious reasons or something. They've done this longer than our team, and they're good at it."

"You don't need hunters to fight the paranormal, George."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, other than the Pentagon's rumored supernatural studies division and ghost hunter groups like TAPS, no one else even believes in the 'paranormal.'"

"TAPS?" She stared at Zukis for a moment to unnerve him. "There is a huge difference between spirits and supernaturals."

"I only meant to..."

"Stop, George. I like you. When this is over with, I have a well-paying job for you. I'm still buying a nightclub and retiring from this nonsense, and I still need a head bouncer, George."

"Ma'am..."

"George, stop. Let's get a few things straight. One, the Pentagon's supernatural investigation agency is real. They're called 'United States Paranormal Research and Investigation.' Just remember 'Osprey,' like the bird. That's how to pronounce their acronym. And whenever Volunteer 606 shows up to start a burn, USPRI is quick to follow. This is why we don't hire out to psychopath hunter arsonists. They're being watched by the goddamn Pentagon."

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry, Ms. Monroe. It's just, I don't want to lose any more of my men, when perfectly capable help is a phonecall away. Besides, then the US Government would blame Volunteer 606 Fire Department on our other operations around the city, later on."

"We don't need help," Krys snapped. "You want an investigatory group to have a burn scene at a hotel where their work can be compared to ours? The only thing it will do is give USPRI a reference point to prove V606 didn't kill the other supernaturals. Are we going to argue about this all night, George?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, these two killed three squads. The assigned hunting party, and two more backup hunting packs. Volunteer 606 is the only group that knows how to handle these goddamn ... freaks."

Krys narrowed her gaze. "I can sense people with abilities. That means I'm a freak too."

"I..."

"George, you said you trust me. I told you that it goes both ways. You're going to be my head of security when my new nightclub opens. We're practically business partners. What's wrong with you tonight?"

"I've never seen three squads killed like that. The blond girl did most of the legwork, and she's just a kid."

Krys sighed.

Zukis reached over and placed his hand on her wrist. "Ma'am, please consider it. I just don't want anyone else getting killed by these ... persons of interest."

Krys Monroe lowered the binoculars. She handed them back to the squad leader. "Do you see how many cars are parked there, George? Aris Falcon is not paying us to kill everyone in Millbrae. If that sort of thing were traced back to him it would cause his funding to be pulled. We're discrete. We go in, we shoot them with silenced weapons, or we lure them somewhere quiet. We use a flamethrower on the jewelry store's owner, directly, then pull back and call the fire department. The real fire department. Fire is a last resort - only if Donovan Loupe changes and we can't attack him. If he's not in his shadow form, he can be shot to death, which is my preference."

Silence.

"Are we clear?" Krys turned to George and met his gaze. "Make the call, Unit Leader."

Zukis opened a channel on his digital radio. He exchanged glances with Krys.

"Go on."

George sighed and thumbed the talk button. "Shoot to kill orders. Fire is a last resort, and only if male target goes non-corporeal. Move into your assigned patterns and hold your positions until further notice. We want to try and catch them sleeping."

"Slow down, George," said Monroe. "Military operations like this, keep your radio orders short and to the point. Too much information gets confusing."

Several people confirmed over the radio with a single-worded reply.

"Ms. Monroe, I was a cop for six years. I served a tour in Afghanistan, before that. I know how to talk to my people on a radio."

"What's got into you, George? I've never seen you act like this."

"Listen Ms. Monroe, I fought on the Afghan border of Iran. As a cop, I worked 'vice' four years. Let me tell you something - I have never_seen _anything like what that little blond bitch did to all those men."

"George..."

"Some were splattered, buried in the walls. Some had their own rounds used on them. Two of them had their goddamn flame throwers jammed in their bodies, with the barrels sticking out through their ribs."

Krys frowned. "I'm sorry, George. We'll get them, okay? We don't need help."

Zukis thumbed the radio button again and said, "S-two, do you have thermal?"

Seconds later, the radio beeped. A voice came over the speaker. "The air conditioning unit beneath the window is putting off significant heat. I cannot tell if the Prince and Princess are in the castle." The voice paused, briefly, and then added, "Stand by."

Zukis shifted the radio to his other hand, waiting.

After a moment, the voice came back over the radio. "Thermal shows what looks like ... maybe ... candles lit behind the door. I assume they're set up on the dresser. S-one and S-three have cross coverage of the door and window. We're ready to proceed at your order."

"Good copy," said George to the mercenary on the radio. He turned to Monroe and told her, "We have three snipers on the door. We'd have to stun the targets and move in quickly. We also have two more snipers covering the lot just in case the girl tries to teleport."

"She can teleport?" Krys furrowed her brows. "I thought you said she could catch bullets? On that note, how will snipers make a difference?"

"She won't hear the shots fired, nor will she see where the rounds are coming from. The three guys who survived her attack said she teleported them onto a rooftop across the street. They also said she was able to stop their bullets because she appeared ready for them."

"Do you have a plan to deal with her?"

Zukis stared at Krys. "We're using high velocity rounds and flash suppressors. As I said, she won't hear the shots, let alone see where they're coming from."

"Okay, it will have to do," said Monroe. She folded her arms. "I'm going to stop by the rental office and ask the boy at the desk if he's rented that room."

George nodded and spoke into his radio. "Everyone hold your positions. How copy?"

Several replies came over the speaker, all indicating that the instructions were clear.

She picked at a piece of lint on her windbreaker. "If the Night Audit clerk refuses to answer, we'll use Primaline on the door."

George eyed her, not sure what a 'night auditor' was.

Krys continued. "The Primaline will disorient whoever is inside. We'll rush in, identify them and shoot them with tranquilizer darts. If they're our targets I want you to behead them to be safe."

George blinked at his boss. "With all due respect, ma'am, I know how to do this job and I know the procedures. My squad knows to behead these people and burn the remains because any one of them could be a healer-class."

"I work with more squads than yours, George. I'm used to having to explain myself to the ones who aren't quite as competent."

George grinned at the compliment. "Understood."

Krys replied to his smile with a firm nod. "Ready your team." Krys slipped out of the passenger seat of the black GMC Yukon and walked across the street. She opened the door to the lobby and stepped inside.

The squad leader brought his radio back to his lips and said, "All units stand by."

X

X

Meanwhile...

** Karla Howard dropped back** onto the mattress adjacent to Donovan. Blond locks fanned out around her head.

She turned her head to face him and smiled at the sound of his deep breathing. Her eyes lowered, and then lifted, drinking in his masculine figure. She breathed a sigh of content.

The succubus lifted her legs up into the air and kicked them back and forth, dazzled by the rush of the sexual high. Her green eyes clenched shut.

She crossed her legs, tightly pressing her thighs together. Karla arched her back and curled her toes.

A satisfied smile came next. The succubus licked her pink-smeared lips as if to consume the last vestiges of Donovan's offering.

She ran her hands up through her hair with another sighed. "I'm going to be hyper all night, now. Talk about pent up. Damn, boy." She paused.

Silence.

Karla listened to his deep breathing.

She sat up, slid off the bed, and quickly darted across the hotel room. Once in the bathroom, she stopped in front of the mirror.

"Maybe I'll put the ole hair up and go for a jog." She licked her lips again.

Karla stretched. She ran her fingers through her hair, shoving it up into a sloppy bun. She stepped back from the hotel mirror over the sink counter.

The hotel shook.

She stumbled and put one hand against the nearest wall, with her other on the bathroom sink.

A fine layer of plaster dust fell from the stucco ceiling.

Karla moved into the doorway of the bathroom. She froze at the sound of a distant 'pop!'

"Wait just a minute. That's not a goddamn earthquake," she groused.

The succubus disappeared.

A split-second later, Karla rematerialized by the window and peered out across the way.

She watched through the window as several black uniformed people dashed into another hotel room across the parking lot.

She narrowed her eyes. The attackers broke into the room she typically rented as habit, across the way. "Oh those bastards."

Karla turned back to the bed where Donovan slept. She snapped her fingers.

Donovan's clothes vanished from the recliner. With a wave of her hand, Karla draped the business suit across Donovan's body.

The succubus teleported each article of her own clothing into her grasp. She used telekinesis to stretch out the fabric, and then she teleported each object onto her body.

With a smoothing touch, Karla adjusted the lay of the cloth. Finally, she pulled her panties up her legs, beneath her skirt. She gave a little tug on the hem.

A smirk found the corner of her lips.

"I'm going to..." The blond trailed off into a string of softly spoken curse words. She slipped her feet into her flats.

Karla blinked out of the room. The scenery changed before her emerald eyes.

The succubus appeared on the second floor balcony, overlooking the operation taking place outside of her favorite hotel room. It was one she usually rented for trysts, and she memorized the layout.

Down below, she saw the door in splinters. The doorframe was scorched and partially destroyed from some sort of explosive.

Karla disappeared again.

She reappeared in the bathroom of the empty hotel room.

The mercenary team breeched the entrance doorway, weapons drawn.

She stormed out of the dark bathroom and stomped her foot into the nearest mercenary's gut. The demoness supercharged her kick with the full power of telekinesis, sending the man straight through a wall, into the adjacent suite.

Somewhere in the background, Karla heard alarmed shouting but ignored it.

From her blind spot, a gun moved into position level with her face. She heard the hammer click.

With a sneer, she closed her left hand into a fist. Her palms glowed pink, becoming brighter the more she amped up her telekinetic output.

The gunner's weapon pointed up against the bottom side of his chin. He strained in an attempt to redirect the weapon but the overpowering force behind its movement kept the weapon beneath his jaw.

At the last second, the mercenary jerked his head away just as the pistol fired. He cried out in surprise, deafened by the discharge.

Karla jerked her hand from left to right, telekinetically pistol-whipping the gunman. He spun like a top, crashing into a flat panel television mounted to the wall across from the bed.

The candles she planted in advance went flying to the floor, extinguished. Hot wax splattered across the floor.

The mercenary flailed about, burned by the hot liquid.

She drew her foot back and kicked the bed. It lurched up and sailed into two other men by the door, pinning them to the wall. They dropped to the floor, atop the mattress, dazed.

Karla opened her arms, throwing two mercenaries in opposite directions. They each struck the facing wall and flopped unceremoniously to the carpeted floor, motionless.

With a firmly set jawline, Karla stepped outside and opened her fists. She tensed her body. A thin shimmering aura surrounded the demon's form.

Three high caliber rounds struck the force bubble that she created around herself. The rounds froze solid, held in place by the semi-unseen telekinetic field.

She narrowed her gaze at floating rifle ammunition. Each suspended round rotated.

Karla threw her arms outwards, sending all three bullets back in the direction from which they came.

At the top of the block, a large black SUV peeled out, heading for the main road.

Karla teleported across the street, then teleported again, putting herself in the backseat of the vehicle.

A reached around the driver from behind and covered his face with her arms.

"What are you doing?!" Shouted the driver. "Are you insane??"

Karla aused her telekinetic control to mash down the accelerator pedal. "WHY are you after me?"

Krys Monroe, in the passenger seat, pulled at the door handle but the door was held shut by an unseen force. The blue-haired woman quickly reached for her seatbelt and pulled it over herself. "You're goddamn crazy!"

Blaring horns screamed past the SUV. It shook furiously, hopped a curb and cut across a grass island.

The GMC Yukon shook again, over another curb. It tore across incoming traffic. "Last chance, bitch," sneered Karla. "Why are you after me?"

Krys Monroe gave one last tug on the door handle but nothing happened. "Because Aris Falcon wants to eliminate most of you freaks that have no use to him. You people are in his way."

Karla scoffed. "Well, that guy is definitely on my shit list. If you don't start talking, you'll be on my list, too."

"I only do as I'm told." Krys pulled a photograph out of her chest pocket, staring at the image of another girl.

The girl in the photo looked similar to Krys Monroe but with natural auburn hair. "Good bye, Andrea. I love you." She relaxed her body, ready for impact.

Karla used her telekinesis to guide the SUV towards a parked Exxon tanker truck sitting in the parking lot between a gas station and a fast food restaurant.

Krys drew in a calming breath.

Karla grimaced in disgust. "Why would your boss want to eliminate supernaturals? And why only select ones?"

"You've got it backwards," Krys said in a calm tone, eyes shut. "Only select ones get to live."

A chime came from the dashboard due to the driver not wearing his seatbelt.

"Why?" Karla demanded.

Krys clenched her eyes tight.

"You better hurry lady," Karla taunted, adding, "You've got less than ten seconds before we hit that fuel truck."

"I'm ready to die. Doctor Falcon will avenge me."

"Doctor Aris Falcon?" Karla blinked. The other man named Aris, a man she knew in her past, was also a doctor. "Y'know, Aris isn't a very common name."

Krys opened her eyes, saw the Exxon truck directly ahead, and took a deep breath.

All at once, Krys Monroe found herself sitting on a curb on the side of the road. She looked up just in time to see the SUV slam into the fuel truck. Krys covered her face, expecting an explosion.

The back end of the Yukon lifted, and then it dropped to the pavement. The front end crushed downwards, curling beneath the SUV. The sound of shattering glass followed. It felt strange, as though happening in slow motion.

Krys glanced up. She blinked at a large tear in the side of the Exxon truck.

Karla placed her hand on the back of Krys's neck. "Huh. That was anti-climatic. I guess it was empty. Your driver is still dead, though. He wasn't wearing his seatbelt. Tch, tch, tch. Now, tell me what I want to know or I will drop that truck right on your head."

"I'm doing what Falcon told me to do. You and all your precious little friends are going to die. Most of them should be gone by now, anyways."

The blond snorted with laughter. "You're talking about the Specials I was going to meet?"

Silence.

Karla rolled her eyes. "They're not my friends. Most of the supernatural society hates my guts. I'm a 'pariah.' Know why? Because I don't give a crap about their stupid privacy rules. I don't care about their drama, their stupid little secret handshake ... any of it."

"You are a pariah. There's a reason why your own people hate you."

"Hey, don't act like you know me, lady."

"I know enough, Karla Anne Chintzy."

"Wow, my old cognomen. Newsflash, dumb ass. I changed my last name twenty-four years ago."

Monroe scoffed. "People like you stand in the way of what Aris Falcon wishes to do. So, phase one of his plan is to wipe out you goddamned people. All the supernaturals are dead. You're an endangered species now."

Karla blinked.

Monroe ground her molars together. "Now kill me or get lost, cunt."

Karla moved around the side of the blue-haired woman and gawked at her. "Are you kidding me? Are you effing kidding me? I just saved your life from being mangled to hell in a car accident, and you're calling me a cunt?"

Monroe replied with a smirk.

Karla ran her fingers back over her head. Her blond tresses dropped from the sloppy bun, spilling down her shoulders. "That's hot. Say it again. But say it like you _mean it _this time."

"You're not going to gross me out. I'm already on the team, Ms. Chintzy. Now kill me or get lost."

"First of all," Karla laughed, "What the hell is up with everyone calling me 'miss' tonight? Second of all, I just told you I changed my last name in 1999, moron."

"Fine, whatever."

Karla shook her head with an effeminate chuckle. "I don't know where your intelligence is coming from, but it sucks donkey dicks, honey. Oh! By the way, I want you alive to tell your boss I can't die."

"Listen, honey. You can die. If my teams don't kill you then Falcon will do it, personally. But I sure hope he doesn't have to, because I want to be the one to cut your pretty little throat. This is personal, now. I'm notorious about holding grudges."

Silvery peals of laughter bubbled up from the succubus. She shook her head and shoved a wave of blond back with her left hand.

"What?!" Monroe snapped.

"You failed," said Karla. "And your boy-toys failed. Let me show you just how miserable their attempt really was." Karla glanced to the left, along the highway.

"You bore me."

Karla pushed back the sleeves of her blouse. "Nothing up this sleeve! And nothing's up this one, either!"

Suddenly two men appeared, lying in the middle of the street, their arms outstretched as if holding a rifle. A split second later, a tractor-trailer hit both men, killing the two snipers.

The eighteen-wheeler truck swerved, hitting the brakes. The large truck came to a stop.

Karla teleported both broken bodies away. She lowered to one knee adjacent to Krys Monroe. "I'm wired tonight. Don't toy with me, sister."

Monroe drew her radio up and spoke into it. "Whoever is left, fall back and maintain radio silence." She lifted the radio and slammed it on the concrete. "Good luck figuring out the frequency."

Karla stood up and glared down at Monroe. "If you're not going to tell me where I can find Aris, that's fine. I don't need you, but the offer still exists. Either you just tell me, or I'll just have you drawn in quartered ... telekinetically."

"Your threats don't scare me, and you're certainly not the most powerful supernatural my teams have killed tonight."

Karla held her hands up, mock trembling in faux fear. "Oh, have mercy, you've killed my peers; you're so awesome!" She placed her fingertip against Krys Monroe's forehead. "Last chance, babe. Where's Aris Falcon and I'll settle this myself." Karla leaned forward, tapping her feet in an off-time rhythm on the pavement.

Krys shifted her rump on the curb and glowered up at Karla. "He'll find you and rip your head off. Shame, too ... you have a pretty face. I wonder would it would look like on a pike."

The demoness chuckled. "You're twisted. I've known some butch-ass bitches in my time but you're..."

"Karla!"

Krys and Karla glanced back at the voice of Donovan. He appeared tired and somewhat disheveled.

The succubus sighed. "Oh go back to bed, Donovan. You look exhausted after all I put you through." A grin tugged at the right corner of her mouth.

Monroe lowered her voice and mumbled, "Jezebel."

Karla flinched. "Now ... there's one I haven't heard since..." She trailed off, trying to remember when last she heard the term. She remembered hearing it. However, she could not recall when, where, or who said it. "Wow. I'm drawing blank."

"It means whore."

"I know what it means. Besides..." Karla leaned close and quietly replied, "Whores get paid, dip-shit. I'm a connoisseur."

"Connoisseur, huh? Drop the 'con' part; you're just a sewer." Krys ground her teeth together. "Slut."

"Cunt."

"Do you even hear how stupid you sound?" Monroe muttered, watching the man across the highway.

Karla grinned with amusment. "Not half as stupid as you look, fatty."

"You are so immature, and I'm only a hundred thirty pounds you cum dumpster."

"Your insults suck, ya' dumb twat."

"Oh, so _I'm _the dumb one?" Monroe huffed with indignation. "You have no idea who you're going up against."

Karla folded her arms and glanced back at Donovan.

The distinguished looking man made his way across the first of several traffic lanes.

Karla turned her gaze back to Monroe. "If you knew anything about the people you were hunting, you'd know that I feed on sex. Names like 'slut, whore' and 'cum dumpster' don't bother me."

"Tch..."

Karla continued. "And yet ... people under your employ thought I was a witch, which is way off the mark. Guess _you _are the one who has no idea who you're going up against. Now shut up and don't embarrass yourself in front of my gentleman friend when he gets over here."

Krys ground her molars together. "Did it hurt when you fell from the whore-tree and banged every guy on the way down?"

Karla smirked. "Whores get paid by the job, I just told you that," she murmured in a discrete tone as Donovan approached the two.

"Whatever, bimbo."

Karla, with a bright smile, gestured towards Monroe. "Lookie what I got, Donnie boy."

Donovan cut his gaze from left to right, eyeing both women. "Karla, it seems you've destroyed part of the hotel and caused a string of destruction that cuts a swath clear across the street. No doubt the police are en route."

"And! I caught the bad guy," said Howard, preening. "T'dah!"

"Go to hell," murmured Monroe. She glanced up from where she sat on the curb, grimaced at Donovan, and turned back to Karla. "You're a disgusting excuse of a woman who sleeps with people you don't even know. It's overpowered people like you that need to be killed. Not just because you're in our way but also because you're a danger to society. Freak."

Karla kicked Krys in the hip with the side of her foot. "You're acting like a total douche in front of my new friend," she murmured to Monroe.

"Whatever, tramp."

Karla cleared her throat and turned to Donovan, "Don't mind her. She's angry because she lost. You want to go grab some coffee? You look tired."

"I am tired. Exhausted. But this woman isn't exactly wrong. You're a danger to the public if you're going to fling people about like fodder." He glanced back at the truck driver whose jackknifed rig sat in the middle of the traffic lanes closest to the group.

Cars continued to drive around the trailer, on the outside shoulder.

Karla shrugged. "This chick claims she's trying to take down the whole supernatural community."

Donovan sighed. "What did you do to the truck?"

"He, uh, probably thinks he had a blowout and hit the brakes," Karla replied. "That's what happens when you hit two speed bumps at fifty miles an hour."

"Pardon?"

Karla shrugged. "Look, Donovan, I know I'm a little out there, but my methods have worked for longer than you've been alive. I get a little silly after I feed. It's akin to doing gorilla fingers and drinking a pack of Jolt Cola." She grinned inwardly. "I'm dating myself, huh? I meant Red Bull, since that's what's popular these days. You know what I mean."

Donovan sighed. "Karla, I see the good in you. I see you want to help, but your methods are on the verge of being obnoxious. You're a beautiful young lady, well ... figuratively, since you're twice my age, but you're capable of so much more. You really should live up to your potential."

"Potential?"

Donovan shook his head. "Flinging vehicles into one another, causing tractor-trailers to jackknife, and leaving the bodies of mercenaries in your wake ... Karla, that is not helping things. You're bringing a spotlight to San Francisco. I need to lie low for a while. I'll speak to the other sects. You should keep your head down as well."

Monroe scoffed. "Other sects. You two are idiots." Her words went ignored.

Karla replied to Donovan with a mock pout. "Fine, fine. Do me a favor, and do your little trick. I want you to keep an eye on our friend here."

"Karla..."

"Donovan, please?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I shall. But the police will be here at any moment. We shouldn't be here for questioning."

"Oh fine. Spoil-sport." Karla waved her hand. The trio disappeared.

All three of them reappeared on the roof of a nearby Jack In The Box, overlooking the SUV and Exxon truck.

Karla put her fists on her hips. "I was kinda' surprised the Valdez didn't blow up, down there in the parking lot." She turned back to Monroe and Donovan. "Okay, I want you," she said to Monroe, "To tell that dude, Aris Falcon, that he's scorned the wrong chick. His people tried to kill me twice tonight."

Monroe looked away.

Karla moved close to Monroe in an attempt to unnerve the woman.

"Oh, he's not directly in charge of this operation. He is far above that."

Karla rolled her eyes. "Obviously we're searching for one another, because he wants me dead and I wanna return the sentiment."

Monroe crossed her arms.

Karla sneered. "If I find Falcon before he finds me, then he's going to die." She cut her eyes to Donovan. "Thanks for the snack earlier. Go get a good night's sleep. Sorry all the commotion woke you up."

Monroe got to her feet and reached for her Glock. "You wait, whore. If I go free now, I'll personally come looking for you."

Karla groaned, annoyed. She teleported the handgun into her own hand, pointed it at Monroe, and pulled the trigger. The Glock bucked in her palm.

A bullet winged Krys Monroe's lower thigh, inches above her knee.

"Karla!" Donovan exclaimed. "What are you doing?!"

Monroe went to her hands and one knee with a cry of pain. She gazed down at her injury, eyes wide with shock. Her blue-dyed hair partially obscured her face. Strands clung to the sweat on her forehead. "You ... you shot me!"

Karla threw the weapon off the side of the roof. She leaned over Monroe, watching the twenty-something woman hold her leg in pain.

Tears of pain ran down Monroe's cheeks.

"Tis only a flesh wound!" The succubus grinned. "If I was a better shot, you'd never walk again. How about you stay out of the field next time a job comes along, huh? Next time, you may not be so lucky."

Donovan balled his hands into fists. "Karla, cowboy justice is going to bring down the wrath of the Chief Justiciar. You can't go flaunting your abilities like this! It attracts attention!"

"Oh, c'mon, Donovan..."

He shook his head and said, "Stay out of the tabloids, please. I don't know how I haven't read about you up to this point but please keep your head down."

"Oh stop grousing. I'm having fun for a change," the succubus replied with a brilliant smile. She turned back to Monroe and smirked. "Donovan said to let you go. Today is your lucky day, Blue..."

Monroe grimaced. She gingerly placed her hand over the flesh wound on her leg. "Don't call me..."

Karla's smile broadened. "...Or not." The blond demoness walked to the edge of the rooftop and smiled. Karla's palm glowed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You blond psycho..." Krys Monroe disappeared.

Karla turned back to Donovan and grinned. "Serves her right."

Loupe sighed once more in frustration. "What did you do with her?"

"I teleported her into our room with one of the guns from the parking lot."

"You let her go?"

Karla nodded. "Yeah, babe. She wounded. She's not going anywhere without leaving a trail of blood. The cops will find her and arrest her for having a gun. They'll hold her for questioning, then process her."

Donovan sighed.

Without skipping a beat, Karla added, "You can track her if you want. Thanks again for earlier."

Donovan looked away. "You needed to feed..."

Karla grinned. "I appreciate your understanding. Sorry about the mess. I know you take this whole 'secret society' crap seriously and all. Where can I find you if I gather any information about this Aris Falcon character?"

"I am not quite convinced you and I would benefit from such a partnership. Perhaps it would be best if I speak to the local sect leaders. A coterie of our ilk wouldst..."

"Donovan..." Karla rolled her eyes.

"It is just ... you display no fealty to the Esoteric Council, or their laws prohibiting exposure of our abilities."

"Yeah? Where are they?" Karla cracked her knuckles. She sighed through her nose and shook her head.

"I do not know."

Karla's eyes lifted, gazing off into the distance. "Shouldn't they be here to stop this crap? Those guys in black fatigues ... they were mowing down supernaturals. She said they're targeting our kind. So where is the sect at? Why aren't they stopping this? Hell, maybe they're as dead as the other eight poor sods back in that warehouse - did you ever think of that?"

Donovan grimaced. "I cannot disagree, Karla - the fact people are attacking supernaturals publically is something they would address immediately. I cannot help but wonder."

"C'mon, we're a team, now. Where can I find you if we need to exchange information?"

"Excuse me?"

"Let's face the facts, Donovan ... we might be the only survivors. Our kind was gathered into small groups, studied, and attacked. This isn't something you do to a small group - this is a tactic you do on a large scale to reduce the chances of retaliation."

He offered a sigh of defeat. "I doubt they would be toppled in a single night."

"Donovan, seriously, if they're alive, why aren't they stopping this before the attacks wind up in the news?"

"You make a compelling point, albeit one riddled with dramatic assumptions. However, to play devil's advocate, have you considered the possibility that the council was attacking people they feel are a threat to the community?"

"I get it," she said with a wry chuckle. "You spent the last hour with me, and now you're wondering if they were taking down trouble makers. But why attack you? You're obsessed with playing by the book."

Silence.

Karla grinned. "See? I'm right, aren't I? You weren't thinking about yourself, babe. You're still in shock, and you're reaching for answers. But, in the last hour I've spent with you, I can honestly say your argument is wrong because you're a model supernatural citizen."

Donovan frowned. "I suppose you're right. Also, the council would not send human hunters to attack; they would handle it with hunters who are Specials."

"Yup, that too. Now, I asked you for your digits." Karla waved her hand in a semi-circle. "C'mon, babe. Spit it out. I need to know how to find you, Donnie."

Donovan adjusted his tie in frustration. "I own a jewelry shop." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card.

"I noticed you switch between modern and archaic speak. And I'm not talking about how people spoke in the 19th century. Some of the things you say make you sound like you predate the 1800's by at least two hundred years. But it's completely inconsistent."

Silence.

Karla grinned. "I know what I'm talking about babe - some of the things you say are from the sixteenth century, some is modern. The way you talk spans almost five hundred years. So, what's the deal? Can you stay modern or not?"

Donovan eyed her. "I do try at times. I was raised by my father, who spoke in such a way during my youth. I picked up on it. He thought it would be best to try and adapt and so he sent me off to receive a proper education. And then he and my mother were killed in an attack by a religious society who thinks anyone with abilities is an abomination."

Karla frowned. "That sucks."

Donovan nodded in agreement. "At first I wondered if these attackers may have been part of a generational hunting group, but now I see this new outfit has a different method for fighting our kind. They're more militaristic."

"Listen to you, babe. You're doing good with speaking in a modern fashion."

"I am trying."

"Good. I'm going to need you to work on it until it's second nature. You're going to attract attention." She grinned and added, "I'll stop flinging bad guys around and slamming cars into each other if you can talk normal for me."

"It comes out when I do not think upon it. When frustrated, when anxious."

"Better, Donnie boy. You've almost got it."

"I ... am sorry. It ... it will not happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep just yet, sweetums. Just work on it. You'll get better."

"I endeavor to focus on my wording from this point forward, Karla."

"That'a boy." She offered him an encouraging smile. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Perhaps."

"No, trust me. I will see you later. Gut feeling. Woman's intuition. I might be fickle, but I trust my gut. Later, babe."

"See thee anon. Stay out of trouble."

She glared at him then folded her arms. "Nobody says 'anon' anymore. This is what I'm talking about. Anyways, we'll see about the trouble bit." She reached for an errant lock of platinum and drew it back behind her left ear. A smile crossed her lips.

"Very well."

"Donovan, if you find out where this Falcon character is operating out of ... let me know. And do your best to reply in modern lexicon, huh?"

"We'll be in touch," he replied.

She grinned again.

Donovan approached an air conditioning unit set into the roof and moved around to the west side of it. "Fair thee well," he said with a smirk.

Karla's grin broadened. "Good, you have a sense of humor."

Donovan dropped into the AC unit's shadow cast by a light on the east side of the building.

Silence resumed.

With a sigh, she opened her arms and stretched.

"I hate being alone and bored."

She licked her lips. The strawberry-flavored lip-gloss had long-since disappeared. Karla withdrew a small tube from her handbag and reapplied it to her lips.

"Hmm, I could go home and post a bunch of funny pictures to my Facebook page. I could binge-marathon on Netflix." A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Or I could go out and find some Co-Eds looking to party. Decisions..."

Karla glanced at the loose wrap-around cellphone on her left wrist. "The night is still young and the bars are still packed."

The succubus held her hand out to the left; her palm incandesced with a light carnation glow. An expensive handbag appeared at her side.

She closed her fingers over the purse handle and shouldered the strap. "Ah, right where I left it. Good." Karla clapped her hands together, rubbed them furiously, and then she disappeared.

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Next chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/530215

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