by Nick Freo
I nudged her feet farther away from the glass, so she was partly bent over, and pushed them farther apart. In her heels, our height difference wasn’t as dramatic, but I was still a few inches taller than her. It wouldn’t matter. I moved behind her, tugging on her hips to force her to bend over more. It was supplication for the new era.
I positioned my cock at her entrance. Her body swayed, trying to rub up against me. I thrust forward, burying half of my cock inside her. Her body jerked, her hands slapping back against the glass. I kept going, driving into her like we were unbreakable. She let out small gasping moans with every thrust. Her hands slid all over the glass, leaving streaks across it.
I kept a tight grip on her hips. At first, I was infatuated with how her ass wiggled as we moved but when I looked up, I saw the faint image of our reflection in the glass. I could see how our bodies had steamed up the glass more than the humidity ever could. I could see her face squeezed tight, riding that incoming pleasure. I could see her breasts swaying, and I could see her arm moving back and forth as she played with her clit.
God, it was enough to drive any guy to a climax.
I grabbed onto the back of her hair. I watched her reflection, the dazed pleasure on her face. I felt her pussy squeeze the life out of my cock, pulsating around it violently as Lilah let out a low-pitched scream. I continued to pound into her, faster and harder as I felt the peak coming. Lilah’s eyes opened, looking straight at me. I saw her admiring our reflection, smiling, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I filled her with my load, a delirious elation taking over me. The world could have ended right in front of this window, and I would have thought it was glorious.
Lilah’s hands fell away from the glass, her body starting to go limp. I pulled out of her. She swayed, her body doing a small turn, so that she slid to the floor with her back against the wall.
“You are a god,” she murmured, looking at me with heavy eyelids. I sidled up close to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. She settled her head against my chest. In the conservatory, we breathed in heavy air and settled inside the heat.
Chapter 21
The soft, percussion of rain trickled into my sleeping brain. I opened my eyes as the tapping sound became louder. I raised my head, glancing up at the glass ceiling. It wasn’t raining. In fact, the sun shone down on us, casting light through the whole room along with a new wave of heat. From the position of the sun, I had to assume it was past nine in the morning.
Lilah’s body gleamed with sweat. My arm still pressed against her, our combined sweat starting to feel like glue. I carefully peeled my arm away from her. My leg bumped against one of her knee-high boots, knocking it over. She must have taken them off at some point last night.
Her eyes flickered open.
“Mmmm. What’s going on?” she muttered. The sound had stopped.
“I’m not sure,” I said. She stretched, her toes pointed like a ballerina’s before she relaxed again, curling up like a child. She slid her arm under her head, gazing up at me like I was her favorite dessert. “Come back down here. Teach me some new fucking techniques.”
The sound started again. It was louder this time like an insistent woodpecker.
“What is that?” I asked. She smiled at me.
“Human souls require so much more sleep than other species. It must be all that stress and emotion,” she muttered, closing her eyes. “Speaking of stress, get the door before Cara shatters it.”
The door. Cara was knocking. I grabbed my boxer briefs, yanking them on. I walked over to the glass door, but I couldn’t see her through it. I opened it. Cara leaned on the door frame, her fist raised up to knock on it again.
“Good morning,” she said “I waited as long as I could to wake you two up. I know how long it can take her to get you to climax, so I wanted to make sure you were well-rested.”
“Hey, fuck you,” Lilah snapped, jumping onto her feet. Her body glowed in the sunlight. “If you think it’s the destination and not the journey that matters, I’ve got a fucking map to give you.”
She stomped over to the door, but her feet barely made a sound against the thick glass. Lilah stopped an inch away from Cara. It gave me a perfect view of her ass. It had a faint blue tint to it from our session last night.
“Why don’t you put some clothes on?” Cara asked, staring straight at her. “We have a lot to accomplish and none of it can be done by acting like a stripper.”
“Strippers are athletes. They’ve got more flexibility in their coochies than you have in your whole body.” Lilah leaned forward with every word. She flicked her tongue out, nearly hitting Cara’s nose with it. Cara flinched backward. Lilah laughed, standing back up. She shrugged and turned back into the room to grab my jacket. “I don’t know why I even respond to you, Cara. We all know that you’re just jealous because I’m winning, 2-1. If you hadn’t interrupted, Kyle and I would have made it 3-1.”
Christ, they were keeping score. I cracked my knuckles, trying to avoid Cara’s death stare at Lilah. I felt the ring against my palm. I checked it. It wasn’t just the women who were keeping score. The white had been eclipsed by an overcast gray—slightly darker than its neutral hue. It wasn’t optimal, but it was the best I could do right now.
Cara’s hand brushed against my arm. I turned to her. The coolness of her body felt good after the heat in the conservatory.
“I managed to get ahold of some of my angelic contacts,” she said. “They spread the word, and there are a couple of reports that Serena may have been seen at an angel-aligned soup kitchen. I just got the second report before I started knocking on your door. I figured you’d want to go check it out with me.”
I twisted my ring. I had just spent the night pushing—thrusting, really—my way toward the demon alignment. The angels would sense that I was closer to the demon side than the angel side.
“Will the angels at the soup kitchen talk to me now?” I asked. “I’m slightly more demon-aligned at the moment.”
“Whose fault is that?” Cara retorted, her gaze shifting to Lilah. “Maybe if Lilah had spent time doing some research instead of trying to monopolize your time, we would have found this out sooner, and you wouldn’t be demon-aligned.”
Cara glanced back at me, giving me a sly smile. She touched my arm again, her fingers lingering this time.
“But, Kyle, the ritual does work both ways. If you wanted to switch back, I could entertain you for the next hour or two.”
“Let’s not jump the gun or jump on anybody’s Winchester.” Lilah stepped in between Cara and me, her breasts acting like a barricade. “We don’t have time for that. We changed his alignment so that he can meet the Dead Man. That’s what we decided on. We can’t go on a wild goose chase based on what some air-headed angel gossiped about. Kyle, you don’t know angels like I do. They’re every bitchy high school girl you’ve ever met compacted into these tiny, little fragile bodies. If you asked around about if Bobby kissed Sally, they’d invent gossip about it. They love to hear themselves talk.”
“Funny,” Cara said. “I only hear one person compulsively talking, and she’s a demon.”
“Lilah’s right,” I said as Lilah swung around, hellfire gathering in her palm. When she understood what I said, Lilah pumped her fist, crushing the hellfire and causing an interesting ripple effect with her breasts. “I would love to spend the day sleeping with Cara—”
Fire flickered in Lilah’s eyes, and she stomped back over to the other end of the room. Cara smirked, nearly wiggling her ass in self-satisfaction.
“—but the Dead Man didn’t give us an exact time to meet him. He seems to always be a step ahead of everyone else, so he must have known that there was a chance I wouldn’t rush straight to Second Circle. I don’t want to give him enough time to change his mind or allow him to prepare too much before we meet him. We don’t have time to waste on anything that’s unnecessary.”
Cara stuck her lower lip out, her body slumping, and her blue eyes were a little less
bright. Even under the dire circumstances, I couldn’t help but feel bad for her—and also think about how she’d look kneeling in front of me with her timidity and eagerness to please me.
“But,” I continued. “We should still check the soup kitchen. I’ll be going in blind for this Dead Man meeting, and it’s better if I can get any amount of information about my father’s murder before I see him.”
“I’d say it’s a decent plan,” Lilah said. “I’d say that, but I’m telling you right now that angel gossip is petty shit. They’re like teen girl magazines that came to life.”
“I’ll risk it.” I rubbed my jaw. “I just wish there was a quick way to gain some heavenly alignment before we get to the soup kitchen. What do you think is the chance that we’ll run into an old lady that needs help crossing the street?”
“There’s maybe a one percent chance,” Cara said. She pressed her hand on my chest, glancing down at my boxer briefs. “But you’re already mostly naked and we could accomplish a lot in a half hour.”
The coolness of her hand against my sweaty chest sent a chill through me. All the nerves in my body cruised straight to where she was touching me. It reminded me of being inside her, of her soft skin underneath me, and how that sweetness boiled into indestructible glory.
My hand moved over hers. As she tilted her head to kiss me, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head and something clattered near my foot. I looked down to see Lilah’s knee-high boot.
“Alright, harlots, hookers, and hussies,” she said, fully dressed, and limping over to us because she was only wearing one boot. “Let’s get going before Cara makes me puke.”
She grabbed her other boot near my foot, yanking it on. I rubbed the back of my head. Cara reached back, her hands sliding in my hair. Her chill sunk into my skin and the pain dulled.
“That’s the best I can do,” she said. “You’ll need to heal the rest yourself. The demon-alignment is blocking me.”
She turned around, walking down the hall. I watched her hips sway, creating a hypnotic rhythm.
“Hey, idiot.” Lilah shoved my clothes into my arms. “Get dressed, so we can go see these hypocritical, sanctimonious little assholes. I want to see them piss themselves at the sight of a demon. Then, we can leave and go to Second Circle and deal with this so-called Dead Man. He’s certainly going to be dead soon.”
She strode down the hallway. Her hips swung much more than Cara’s. It was more like a pendulum. I hurried to get dressed. The last thing I needed right now was for Cara and Lilah to be alone together. I mean, it would be hot, but in a deadly way. Just like the angel’s trumpet and the devil’s trumpet.
“It looks like a money laundering operation,” Lilah muttered from the back seat of the BMW.
She wasn’t wrong. The soup kitchen was a simple, stone building with one small rectangular window and a door. The most elaborate part of it was the logo Open Wings painted above the door. If any money was being put into it, it wasn’t for first impressions.
We observed the soup kitchen from the parking lot across the road. I had been ready to pull into the soup kitchen’s parking lot, but Lilah pointed out that rolling up in a relatively nice BMW would be like driving a liquor delivery truck up to an AA meeting—hilarious, but a quick way to get you banned from a whole plaza.
“Let’s go, Cara.” I pushed open my door. Cara jumped out the passenger side. “I’ll leave the heat on for you, Lilah.”
“Uh, no, I’m going,” Lilah said, opening her door. I stepped out, taking a deep breath.
“You don’t think that’s going to cause a problem?” I asked. “I thought you were joking before. You know how angels react to you.”
“Yeah, tight, puckered up assholes. But they’re not going to cause a scene in front of a bunch of humans. Especially when they’re pretending to be goody two-shoes. What are they going to do? Explain to the humans that I’m a demon and they had to attack me because they’re angels? Please. They’d rather risk their lives than violate the Celestial Court’s laws and the Court’s don’t-expose-us-to-those-whiny-humans law is pretty strict.”
“There’s nothing I could say that would convince you to get back in the car, is there?”
“Of course there is. Just tell me that we’re going to Second Circle, and after we talk to the Dead Man, we’ll have sex in a private room.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Other than that, no, you’re screwed in the worst possible way.”
I slammed my door shut. If she was right about the angels not making a scene in front of humans, we’d be fine. If she was wrong, the threat of a fight could put enough of a fire underneath their asses to give me straightforward answers.
As we crossed the road, Cara moved in front of us. I had only seen her this relaxed when we were in the white bedroom together. She smiled at a passerby, her body radiating a classic, timeless elegance, which contrasted nicely with the fierce allure of that sultry red dress, her plunging neckline and the cut-out material near her ribs.
When we entered the building, the scent of garlic bread floated through the air. The scent cast a warm sensation over me, but the actual building invoked colder feelings. It resembled an old school cafeteria, compressed to fit into a much smaller space. The counter slumped in front of the room, warped and slanting to the left. The tables were crammed together a couple of feet away, the people sitting at them equally bundled together with plates of pasta and garlic bread in front of them. I didn’t know quite what I expected, but on some level, I thought angels would have created a better sanctuary than this.
Lilah let the door slam behind her. Nearly a dozen eyes sniped us, some more hostile than others. I glanced back at Lilah and Cara. We should have changed before we came. Cara, in her dress, and Lilah, in nothing more than my jacket, stuck out compared to everyone else here. Even without the BMW, it was clear we didn’t belong. It was so quiet, I could hear the rattling of the furnace.
An older man approached us, a strand of his gray hair peeking out from under his hair net. He partially waved, his hands small in his oversized plastic gloves.
“Hello.” He rolled off one of the gloves and offered his hand to me. I shook it. He offered it to Cara too, who shook it. He made no move to shake Lilah’s hand. I heard her snort behind me. “Welcome. My name is Jeremiah. Welcome to our Open Wings community. Are you here for a good meal? We’re serving baked ziti and Tessa’s scrumptious—I might even say heavenly—garlic bread.”
God, I’d kill for either of those things right now, but unfortunately, multiple people were trying to kill me too.
“We’re not here for the food,” I said. “We’ve heard that a witch named Serena Foster was here. Do you know if that’s true?”
Jeremiah’s nose was scrunched up for the slightest second as he looked as Lilah before a smile returned to his face.
“I apologize, ma’am and sir,” he said. “I know the regulars around here, but I don’t recall the name Serena Foster.”
“Awesome,” Lilah clapped her hands together. “I’m happy to keep my record of always being right. It’s been real, Jeremiah, but I gotta get to a strip club. Let’s go, Kyle.”
The man frowned. “It’s true that I don’t know if we’ve had any visitors named Serena Foster. But Tessa learns the name of everyone who comes here, and she’s nearly always here. I can take you to her. She’s just preparing the soup tonight. She’ll love to talk to you.”
“Thank you so much,” Cara said, pressing her hand over her heart. “We truly appreciate the extra effort.”
“We truly appreciate the extra effort,” Lilah mimicked. As he led us behind the counter, everyone shifted their gaze away from us to their food. He pushed open a swinging door. Cara returned to her confident stride while Lilah sulked behind her. I brought up the rear.
We passed by an industrial dishwasher, stove, and refrigerator. Our reflections flickered in each appliance. The reflections stopped as we came to the end of the room, where there was a long steel table. Be
hind the steel table, there was a woman chopping potatoes. She looked up as we approached.
“Tessa, these folks wanted to ask you about a possible visitor that came through our door,” he said. He smiled at Cara. “I’m sorry, but I have to return to the front counter. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you’ll find the witch you’re looking for.”
He nodded at me, shifting his body to avoid touching Lilah as he passed by us to go back through the swinging door. Lilah formed a gun with her hands and put it at her temple, pretending to shoot herself before rolling her eyes.
“Hey,” Tessa said. Her eyes lingered on Lilah, her knife still tightly gripped in one hand, but she switched her gaze over to me. Her expression softened, exhibiting a warmth that I’d rarely seen angels show. In fact, all angels had been cold assholes except Cara. “What’s going on? Who are you looking for? If it’s Sammy Green and he vandalized something, I’m incredibly sorry about that, but he suffered brain damage and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
She was younger than I first thought—maybe mid-twenties. Her red hair was tied up into a bun, and she was dressed in a faded tie-dye shirt and jeans. There was a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks and she wasn’t wearing any make-up. At first glance, I thought she was plain-looking, but looking directly at her, she had a subtle picturesque quality.
Cara nudged me. I straightened up.
“I’m sorry, uh, no, we’re not here about Sammy Green. We’re looking for Serena Foster. We heard that she had been here. We believe that she could be in danger, so we’d like to find her before anything happens to her.”
Tessa nodded once before glancing at Lilah again. Lilah crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her weight so that her hip thrust to the left.
“I’d imagine that Serena is in danger,” Tessa said. “Especially when she’s being tracked down by demons like that one.”