by Kira Harp
Gail stared at the wall over Mephistopheles' shoulder, trying to breathe lightly and not choke on the odor of brimstone. She hated these meetings with her boss. Mephistopheles leaned back in his chair, the creak of protesting wood loud enough to pull her reluctant eyes to his.
“Sooo, little succubus.” His voice was harsh and deep. “Care to explain that?” He waved a hand at the wall behind him.
She looked over his shoulder again. It was hard to look away. The entire wall of Mephistopheles' office was now paneled in a sheet of matte black, punctuated with hundreds of little lights. Many of the lights were blue, a thin mournful azure, and a small few glowed heart's-blood red. But some were—Gail choked a little despite her control—some were pink and lavender!
“Um. I had nothing to do with the bad decorating job. Sir.”
Mephistopheles' smile had been known to make crocodiles tremble. He turned it on her now. “That's not decorating. That's a progress board. Look up there. Go on. Fourth row from the left, seven down. Look at that light.”
Carefully Gail made her way around the big mahogany desk and stepped up to the new wall. Four over, seven down. The light was one of the pink ones. Deep pink actually. “Sir?” She let her voice rise at the end but didn't ask a question. You didn't question Mephistopheles.
“That's your target. What were their names? Sharon and Ellen?”
“Sharon and Elaine. Sir.”
“And what color do you see?”
“Um, it's...” Pink...rose, carmine... “It's desaturated red, Sir.”
Mephistopheles snorted loudly, and the smoke wafted on the still air of the room. “It's pink, succubus. It's pink progressing to red. Do you know what that means?”
“No, Sir.”
“It means you're failing. Blue means sadness, pain, isolation. Blue is your goal. That pink means they are affectionate, content, moving perhaps toward love.” He spat the word like the taste of it was foul. Mephistopheles sat up and planted his hands on the desk. “You will go back up there now and seduce that girl Ellen. You will break them up. It's your job. I gave you the perfect form for it, her fantasy girl exactly as she described in her diary, perfect in every detail. You have no excuse.”
Gail looked down at herself. She was clad in a lovely tall female body, slim but subtly rounded, with raven hair and alabaster skin. She knew her nose was small and pert and her eyes were sapphire blue. Everything that Elaine had written she dreamed of. And she hadn't been able to come even an inch between Elaine and the short, plain, laughing, brown-haired girl she was falling in love with.
“Yes, Sir.”
Mephistopheles waved at the board. “And I'll know how you are doing. I want to see that light shading toward blue.”
“That's pretty impressive technology,” Gail said, trying to butter him up.
“Isn't it? We picked up a new computer programmer. We didn't think we'd catch him, but in the end it turned out every book on his Kindle was pirated. Heaven has a soft spot for writers so that tipped the balance. He's a whiz kid with the LEDs. Now git!”
Mephistopheles waved casually and Gail felt the room dissolve around her. When her eyes cleared, she was back in the hallway of the club, watching Elaine and Sharon sway together to the music that was playing. Sharon's head was on Elaine's shoulder. Elaine's cheek lay on the shorter girl's brown curls and her eyes were closed. A soft smile curved her lips. Break them apart. Right.
Gail smoothed the line of the lace bustier she was wearing, and ran a hand over the black leather of her skin-tight pants. She looked good. She knew it. She should tap on Elaine's shoulder and ask for a dance. But she just watched them move, like the same music was running through both of them, like they knew each other heart-deep.
A voice behind her said, “The tall one's pretty. The short one's not much.”
Gail turned. The woman beside her was gorgeous, with smooth cafe-au-lait skin, silky dark hair to her shoulders, deep brown eyes. “Hey,” the woman said. “I'm Gabrielle.”
“Gail.”
“We match.” Gabrielle gave her a wide, brilliant smile. “Come on Gail. Dance with me for a bit. What can it hurt?” Gail glanced back toward her target and hesitated. Gabrielle shook her head ruefully, and then turned Gail's face back toward her with one finger on Gail's cheek. “You're not going to be tapping that one – not before the end of the song, at least. Anyway, I'm ten times as hot as she is.” A little shimmy of her lush body, clad in thin silk, emphasized the fact.
Gail felt herself respond. She was a succubus after all. Sex was her obsession. She glanced back at the two women. They weren't completely in love yet. A succubus knew when her target passed that point of no return, that took them out of play. She had a little time. And Gabrielle was smoking hot. “Sure,” she said. “One dance.”
She moved into Gabrielle's arms. The music ran dreamily over them, as Gabrielle danced Gail in slow swoops down the hallway instead of out onto the floor. It didn't matter. This was wonderful. Gail closed her eyes and leaned into the firm heat of Gabrielle's body. With her eyes closed, she didn't see the faint flicker in Gabrielle's hair, as her halo gave light in the darkness of the corridor.
Behind them on the dance floor, Elaine moved her mouth closer to Sharon's ear, and whispered a brief question. Sharon stumbled, looked up at Elaine, and smiled in amazed delight. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”
In his smoky office, in the upper levels of Hell, Mephistopheles saw a light on his board go from pink to heart's blood red, four from the left, seven down. His curses filled the air with sulfur and fumes.
And the angel Gabrielle smiled silently, closed her eyes and pulled the lithe succubus in her arms a little closer. Sometimes she loved her work.
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Coming Back
~Picture prompt: The ocean stretches out, pale-blue and calm, and on the beach a young man stands with his wide eyes reflecting that blue. He grips one forearm with his other hand, looking distressed and off-balance. He won't fall, though, because he's securely held in the tight embrace of another boy.