by Jack Porter
Other options included sealing any corpses I created in the concrete foundations of the local building developments. But even if I could figure out how to get access to freshly poured concrete, I couldn’t help but feel too many corpses might impact the structural integrity of the build. Or be too easy to find.
For the time being, I figured the crematorium would do. I mean, it was pretty complete. Not much chance of even a DNA match in the ashes.
Chapter 4
It was getting close to midnight before I got back to my apartment, where Rachel and Sandy were both waiting for me to arrive. Rachel had access to the Syndicate’s apps, and knew before I arrived that my mission had been a success, although I still had no clue how that sort of thing was actually measured.
The tattooed Goth woman could have given Morticia Adams a run for her money along every dimension. She handed me a tumbler of whiskey to go along with her smile, and I knew the girls had already started the party without me.
They’d turned the lights down low and the music up, and Sandy’s position on the couch suggested more than just drinking had been going on. The stunning blonde looked a little disheveled, with her hair out of place and a broad grin on her smudged lips. She raised a casual glass of champagne to me in a toast.
Yet they had been waiting for me. They were both still fully clothed although Sandy’s dress was riding much higher than it would have been if she was in polite company.
She wasn’t wearing any panties, and the sight gave me an immediate erection. I took the offered whiskey and, to Azrael’s approval, gathered Rachel close, kissing her thoroughly on her warm, crimson lips.
The incubus inside me had already shared his demonic nature with the girls, but he still approved of my every carnal desire. Sure, additional sexual conquests would lead to more power for Azrael, and therefore more status for me. But there was something comforting about coming home to the girls. There was a familiarity to it, a sense of rightness.
Even though I knew sending them out to spread Azrael’s demonic nature would lead to even greater power, I was happier knowing that they chose instead to stay with me.
Rachel was the first real girlfriend I’d ever had, and Sandy was the second. The fact that they got on so well despite being so different was an enormous bonus. Or perhaps it had something to do with Azrael’s awakening of the succubi within them as well.
I didn’t know. All I knew was that I got to enjoy the benefits of it.
I took a swig of my drink, let it play around on my tongue for a moment, then enjoyed the way it burned as I swallowed it down. Then I herded Rachel toward the bedroom, calling to Sandy at the same time.
“Are you coming?” I asked her. “Or is that just the way you’re sitting?”
Chapter 5
She responded with a half-tipsy grin and made a half-hearted effort to straighten her dress. Then she stood, drink in hand, and joined us.
But when we got to Chad’s bedroom–his bed was bigger than mine and more comfortable for the three of us to share–she hesitated.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep?” she asked. “You have that meeting tomorrow.”
The meeting she was talking about was with Dario Gambetti, a high-ranking member of the Syndicate. My boss, effectively. One of the actual Gambetti family. He’d asked for a meeting when I killed Megadeath #4, who had been the Syndicate’s top killer before I arrived. Tomorrow was the first opening in his schedule since then.
I didn’t know what the meeting was about and had some trepidation about it, given the timing. But the way I figured it, worrying about it wouldn’t change a thing, and anyway, it might lead to that difference I was looking for, that opportunity to improve my status even more.
So I grinned, pulled Sandy close, and kissed her as I had kissed Rachel before. “You’re right,” I said. “I do have that meeting. But that’s tomorrow, and right now, I have something else on my mind.”
I kept grinning at her, and it turned out, my grin was contagious. She caught it too, then turned around, presenting her back to me.
“Well, what are we waiting for? Help me with my zipper?”
I laughed, and in a matter of seconds, all three of us had climbed out of our clothes and onto the bed.
We played around at first, just wrestling and groping, enjoying each other’s nakedness with the lights on. But very soon those casual gropes, pinches, and laughter were replaced by more determined exploration, bites and tasting, gentle nibbles on collarbones, kisses on necks, shoulders, and hips, tasting each other’s skin and inhaling each other’s scents.
With Azrael present in my mind, the girls seemed to shift back and forth between their normal, human selves and the succubi that lived within them. The images of the female demons were complete with wings, horns growing out of their heads, and prehensile tails. They could have been creatures that crawled up from Hell to experience the carnal delights of humanity.
No doubt, Rachel and Sandy could see my own demon within me as well, yet it didn’t cause them any pause. We were what we were, both human and demonic, and one day our demonic selves would lead to power and status beyond imagination.
But right now, it just provided a surreal twist to our sensual adventures.
We were demons. Vampires, or at least the inspiration behind them. Monsters in human flesh, writhing to a tune as old as time itself.
The succubi who were Rachel and Sandy took turns straddling my face, letting me explore their depths with my tongue as they shared my new, enhanced length between them, wrapping their tongues around my shaft, sucking as if I was their favorite lollipop, and sharing whatever attention they had left for each other as well.
In moments, any thought of conversation was gone, replaced by ragged breathing, occasional moans, and sighs of contentment.
It seemed as if the temperature of the room had climbed several degrees, and I could sense the heat coming off the girls in waves. I found myself wondering if Azrael could make even more physical enhancements. What would happen if I gave myself an additional penis? A second, complete dick growing out just above the original one, connected to me at almost the same place.
I could then stack the girls one on top of the other, and take them both at the same time.
“It is possible,” said Azrael in my mind, and I let out a laugh at the thought. I decided I was done with foreplay, and with a guttural grunt of effort, heaved myself up from beneath the girls, spilling them away from me with squeals of delight. I picked one at random, the demoness with dark lipstick and tattoos, and jumped on her, thrusting myself in and enjoying her gasp of pleasure as much as the feel of the slick warmth between her legs.
Yet Sandy wasn’t going to be left out either. She made room between me and Rachel, straddling Rachel’s face and giving me a very fine view of her back. I grabbed hold of her human hips and watched as her succubus tail wrapped itself around my right forearm, and saw her demon wings beat in time with my ongoing thrusts.
A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have had the stamina to last more than a couple of minutes. So much had changed since then. I was an entirely different person, along almost every dimension. But at the same time, I was still me. I couldn’t help but marvel at how good life had become.
I watched, enjoying every sensation, listening to Sandy’s breathing come in shorter gasps as she arched her back in front of me. All at once, her wings seemed to shudder, and I felt the muscles beneath my hands clench. I could only imagine what was going through Rachel’s mind underneath, as the blonde succubus’ thighs clamped around her head. Sandy let out a protracted wail, then seemed to collapse. She rolled off Rachel, revealing the goth woman’s grin.
She looked at me with the most satisfied expression I’d ever seen her wear, and said, “My turn.”
I didn’t quite know what she meant, but then she twisted beneath me, doing her best to push me off to one side.
I let her. For just a moment, we disconnected, then Rachel was on top. If I worried
that the extra length and girth Azrael had given me would cause any problems, those worries disappeared in an instant.
Rachel ground down on me with a vengeance, her succubus claws digging into my shoulders and a look of determination on her face.
With Sandy looking on from the side, Rachel did her best to grind me into nothing, smashing herself against me for all she was worth.
It lasted just a few minutes before Rachel let out a scream of pure passion. She took me with her. We both came at the same time, and were left panting and spent.
Rachel lay on top of me for a while before rolling off, leaving me comfortably sandwiched between a stunning blonde on one side and an exquisite, tattooed goth girl on the other.
Even though she hadn’t participated in the last of it, Sandy looked pleased. As for Rachel, it took her a while to regain her breath.
“That was fun,” she said when she had. “Who would have thought a sympathy fuck could turn into something like this?”
Chapter 6
I wasn’t a morning person. Never had been. I didn’t ever wake up feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. Instead, I tended to wake up in a surly, cantankerous mood, and not even the girls could easily cheer me up. Without any time for even a quickie, I just lurched to the shower and turned it to scalding, and did my best to wash the cobwebs away.
Fifteen minutes and I’d managed to coerce my brain into half decent shape. Yet “half decent” wasn’t enough. Not today. So I sent a tentative thought to Azrael.
“We don’t happen to have any points left from that last girl, what was her name?” I asked.
“Megan, you mean?” Azrael supplied. “No. All points have been allocated. Why do you ask?”
I finished drying myself with a towel, and looked at Azrael’s face in the mirror. The demon stared back at me, the epitome of handsome good looks topped with a crown of sharp horns on his head. Azrael could make it so I could see his face in the mirror, or his full demon body complete with massive bat-like wings projecting from his back, or even my own face. But nobody else could see him, except for the girls who had tasted his power and had their own demonic natures awakened.
“I was just thinking it would be nice to bump up my sharpness a little. You know, make it like I’d chugged a Red Bull or something. Is that possible?”
“All things are possible,” Azrael replied. “Keep it in mind for the next conquest, and I will allocate the points accordingly.”
I made a mental note to do just that, and climbed into my good shirt and pants.
Sandy and Rachel were also getting ready to leave. While it would have been nice to keep them around all the time, they had their own lives to attend to. Not that I could really complain. Rachel’s work with the Syndicate had proven invaluable to me in the past, and even Sandy’s expertise was starting to bear fruit. A marketing pro, she had tweaked my online dating profile to make it much more appealing than I could have done. It now showed me in a positive light, with an excellent photo, and a bio that hinted at Azrael without saying anything overt enough to get me into trouble with the cops.
As a result, I was starting to match with more women than I had time to meet. Which, for me, was not only a first, but a serious boost to the ego.
Both girls eyed me critically when I stepped out of the bathroom. Rachel gave a sharp nod, but Sandy seemed less sure.
“You’re not wearing a tie?” she asked.
“Should I?” I responded.
But Rachel shook her head. “Remember, this is a meeting with a Syndicate boss. Part of the illegal world, not the legal one. And Simon is a hitman, not an accountant. What he’s wearing, with a casual jacket, will be fine.”
Sandy accepted Rachel’s assessment with a nod. The blonde’s experience was largely in the legal side of things, not the illegal.
But she still had more to say. “Good luck,” she said. “I’m sure, no matter what they want, you’ll do well.”
With that, the three of us piled out, each of us heading in a different direction.
Chapter 7
Dario Gambetti, according to the file Rachel had pulled together, was fifty-five years old, divorced, with three grown-up children. His illegal status was very impressive. It matched his age exactly, which meant he was officially the highest status person I had ever come into contact with. His legal status was less impressive but still decent, hovering in the mid-thirties.
Which was higher than my best numbers.
What he actually did within the Syndicate was a little complex. He was in charge of a myriad of smaller enterprises that all fit within the Syndicate umbrella. He was the money man. The drug kingpin. The launderer. The extortionist. The distribution guy. Basically, he was in charge of all Gambetti Syndicate operations within the entire south side of the city, and had started expanding his borders elsewhere as well.
And he was in charge of the enforcers and hitmen who did the Syndicate’s dirtiest work.
As I entered the grandiose building from a bygone era from which he operated and headed to the elevators, I felt unaccountably nervous. Not only was Dario Gambetti my boss and the highest status person I’d ever formally met. But I also had no real clue what this meeting was about.
Did he just want to meet the new guy? Size me up type of thing? Did he have some special assignment for me to do?
Or was he perhaps a bit pissed that I’d taken out the Syndicate’s number one killer?
In keeping with the building’s old-world nature, the elevators were those old-fashioned cage-type things, complete with an operator, a non-descript older man whose status was probably not very high, yet who greeted me with a cheerful grin nevertheless.
“Good morning, Sir,” he said as I stepped onto the elevator. “What floor would you like?”
It was a question to which I had no real answer. I knew the building Dario worked out of, but the Syndicate wasn’t the type of business to advertise its presence with a detailed list of offices on the entrance wall.
“I have a meeting with Dario Gambetti,” I said, hoping it would be enough.
It was. Without missing a beat, the friendly elevator attendant bobbed his head.
“Right you are,” he said. With that, he slid the gate shut, worked the old-fashioned handle, and within moments we were rising to the very top of the building. Of course.
As we rose, I understood why the Syndicate would choose a building like this. Not only did it fit the whole gangster vibe I figured they were going for, but modern elevators wouldn’t give much warning to those at the top. Perhaps a light would turn on and the elevator would go bing, but then the door would open automatically, unleashing whatever was inside.
With this old-fashioned cage, not only could everyone see me coming, but they could keep me locked in for as long as they wished.
Simple, and effective from a security perspective.
Of course, it also gave me the opportunity to scan the different floors we passed, but most of them were nondescript, random places of business. Lawyers, accountants, that sort of thing.
And then we reached a floor that was decidedly different.
The lift conductor worked his controls, bringing the lift to a halt.
“Your floor, Sir,” he said, and I reflected how seldom I had been called Sir in my life. It was a small thing, perhaps, but it felt surprisingly good. No longer did random strangers immediately pick me for the low status loser I had once been. Now, I was a Sir.
He slid open the cage door, and I stepped out into a luxurious waiting area made of rich carpets and wood, with multiple works of art hanging on the wall. It was spacious, and conveyed a sense of welcome and grandeur.
Dario Gambetti was nowhere in sight, and my instincts suggested he was somewhere behind the large wooden door at the far end. Instead, I was faced with half a dozen large, professional looking men in suits, all of whom were eyeballing me as if I was some sort of threat.
I stepped toward them with all the confidence I could muster, while
doing my best to calculate how I might survive if they wanted to fight. “Hi. My name is Simon Kingman, and I’m here to see Mr. Gambetti.”
One of them stepped forward to meet me holding a metal detector wand, the type of thing you might see at an airport.
“Arms out,” the security guard said.
Chapter 8
The guards were efficient. By the time they were done searching me, there was a small pile of guns and knives on a silver tray one of them held for the purpose. They’d even found my garrote.
I remained silent throughout the process, ballsing my way through it as if it was perfectly normal for me to carry so many weapons.
For their part, the guards made no judgment. When they were satisfied I carried nothing more dangerous than my car keys and wallet, they stepped back.
“Mr. Gambetti will see you now,” said the one with the security wand, indicating the door.
Determined not to feel like the naughty kid sent to the headmaster’s office, I strode to the door as if I owned it, turned the handle and stepped inside.
It could have been the office of a high-end lawyer. As luxurious and well-appointed as the meeting room outside and nearly as spacious, the focus of this room was the large, mahogany desk behind which Dario Gambetti sat, deep in discussion with a skinny man who bobbed his head regularly, agreeing with Dario’s every word.
Neither Dario nor the other man bothered to look up at my entrance. Yet I hadn’t gone unobserved. On each side of the door stood another guard, one slim and dangerous looking, the other built like Zangief from the game, complete with the beard. While neither of them so much as moved, I gained the impression that they were an instant from exploding into action, and that action would not be to my benefit.