Fall Ch. 09-14

Notes: 1) This is a non-erotic urban fantasy story that spun up in my head. 2) If you see this anywhere but Literotica it isn't supposed to be there. 3) It has short chapters so I'm posting it in chunks. 4) Chapter 14 is where this ended in my head but I may come back and revisit it at some point.

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Nine

"You're sure?" Vincent was in the writing room early, summoned by Master Bile.

"There were pictures. They said she was at a table with two demons drinking and being very friendly." The speculation was that she had somehow arranged the bombs to escape the library.

"Can I see them?"

It took a little time and whoever sent them didn't seem to send the best quality images, but Vincent felt a moment's relief when he finally saw the pictures, "Look at the way she's holding herself."

The images weren't crystal clear and her face was only barely recognizable, but there was no smile on her face and Verena looked like she was trying to shrink in the pictures. One of the demons had a hand on her thigh in one picture and she was drinking like it held some sort of escape.

"They said she seemed to be having a good time." Master Bile looked at the pictures carefully.

"You've seen her have a good time, she was all smiles and octopus arms." Vincent shook his head. "She looks like she's being threatened, and she's trying not to touch them, they're touching her."

"She's caught between the two. Why was she drinking? She'd need to keep a clear head."

"Maybe they're making her?" Vincent frowned at the slightly indistinct pictures. "Vaemius might see something in the picture we don't. Can we ask her?"

"Bring her."

Vincent walked as quickly as he could to Verena's room and knocked. "Vaemius?"

The door opened and the unsettling eyes looked out at him.

"We need you to look at some pictures and help us understand what's going on."

"Is it true?" Riley came slowly down the hall. "Was she drinking and dancing with them?"

"Do you remember teasing her about her octopus arms? How she kept wanting to touch everyone while we were laughing and-"

"Yeah," the sour clipped answer interrupted him.

"There was none of that in the pictures. She was pinned between two demons in a booth, it looks to me like she was trying hard not to touch them while they pawed at her. Whoever said she was having fun, lied."

The door opened completely and Vaemius came out still pulling on her shirt. "Show me."

Looking at the pictures again with Vaemius was like looking at them through new eyes. She pointed out other demons in the pictures, demons that weren't mentioned. The fallen looked anguished at the pictures of Verena drinking shot after shot.

"Why would she do that? She should be trying to keep a clear head." Master Bile asked his question again.

"Poison." Vaemius looked at the pictures and reached out her hand helplessly. "I think she's trying to poison herself."

"No one drinks like that for fun." Riley murmured in agreement.

"They wouldn't let her die from it, she'd just make herself sick." Master Bile scowled at the pictures as if she should be able to feel his disapproval.

"Do they pay that close attention to humans?" Vincent felt sick to his stomach. "If she passed out on her back..."

"They'll pay attention to her." Vaemius sank into a chair. "She's valuable."

"I doubt it. She knows a lot but that's all information they already have." Riley glanced at the fallen.

"You're mistaken. They were surprised at her armor, we all thought that skill was lost. We would all love to know about your records and the size and number of your libraries. Where you draw your apprentices from... That she also knows more than she should about us, about the ways we've changed... They will keep her alive."

"Until she gives them what they want." Vincent looked at Verena's face in the pictures. "Are the newly fallen able to follow her at all? Or follow the demons she's with?"

"If she calls for us we can find her."

"Otherwise she's on her own?" Vincent leaned, rubbing his eyes. "When can we have the grimoire ready? I want to be ready to send people when she finds a way to call."

"It'll have to be tested before any of the dispellers can even look at it." Riley put a hand on his shoulder. "You know the rules."

"If she calls for us and can aid us, we may not need another dispeller. She learns quickly." Vaemius sounded tentative.

"Do you need to get a message to anyone? We'll have one of the dispellers deliver it if you do. Go have breakfast with the others I need to speak with the office." Master Bile dismissed them all grimly.

°°°°°°°°°°

Ten

To say Verena woke up would be putting too kind a spin on it. She slid from blackness into pain, curling into a ball and dry heaving when she tried to open her eyes.

"You don't hold your liquor as well as you used to, but you still kiss as sweetly." The purred words made every muscle in her body clench.

"I was disappointed she didn't give me any kisses."

Holding her head, she groaned. She'd been shooting for alcohol poisoning but she must have missed her mark.

"If you offer to ease her pain, perhaps she will?" A hand caressed her shoulder. "If it were in my," Savmon hesitated, "skill set, I would consider it."

"Her kisses would taste of vomit and she seemed much fonder of you." The voice was mocking and she had to try to remember its name. Caimrael.

"I enjoy this one. When you're finished with your task, give her to me. I haven't kept a pet for centuries."

"How did I never know you were vain about your eyes, Savmon?" Caimrael imitated a woman's voice, "Such beautiful ruby eyes, the king of gems. I get lost in them..." He affected a sigh.

Savmon laughed unpleasantly. "It's a matter of who says it and how much awe is in their tone."

His hand lifted from her shoulder and it sounded as if they left the room. The door that closed sounded heavy and metallic. Weakly, Verena lifted her head and tried to see where she was. Some kind of cell.

A movement made her turn her head and in a corner of the room, across from the wooden shelf she was on, was a gaunt figure, curled and staring at her as if she were going to harm it. She let her head drop as gently as she could and tried to summon some saliva to allow her to speak. Her mouth felt like a vomit flecked desert.

"I'm-I'm Verena. I won't-won't hurt you." Her own voice was unbearably loud in her ears making her head throb worse, her body felt as if she'd been beaten with sticks and left for dead. They'd probably let her get just enough alcohol poisoning to make her wish she was dead, not enough to actually do the job.

There was silence for a long time and she wasn't sure if she fell asleep but she was startled when the door clattered and then came open. Caimrael brought in a bowl and a bucket and put them on the floor by her head.

"You can drink the water or wash in it. If you can behave, I may allow you out for our discussions, child of breath." He stroked her head. "You'll have time to consider it, I have no other tasks and immense patience. I can wait for years."

He stepped away and she heard scrabbling as if the person in the corner were trying to push further back into it. The language he chose wasn't like anything she'd ever heard and it made her ears feel like they were being tickled and pricked at the same time. When he finished speaking, he left. She lifted her head to look at the person in the corner again. They stared at the bowl next to her.

Verena managed to lean enough to look down, it looked like some sort of rice and bean dish and the water in the blue plastic bucket looked clean. The thought of eating made her feel vaguely ill but water... she was so thirsty. With effort, she managed to sit up, being careful when she put her bare feet down not to put them in the bowl.

"Are you hungry?" She eased herself to her knees on the floor and slid the bowl toward the gaunt figure in the corner. Cupping her hands she began to drink, bringing water to her mouth. It tasted chlorinated, like regular tap water.

"Is... Is it clean?" The figure crawled toward her, seeing his back, the mangled stubs of wings with a few pale feathers still clinging to them that looked as if they'd been broken and hacked off made her avert her eyes.

Staring into the bucket she took a deep breath before she answered, "I think it is. The water tastes chlorinated."

He came close enough to grab the bowl and retreated back to his corner.

"I'll save some for you. I can't drink a whole bucket."

"It..." He scooped a handful of food into his mouth and took a moment to chew and swallow, "It may need to last for days."

"He wants me alive for awhile. Food may be denied but probably not water. It would be too easy for me to take advantage of his mistake and kill myself." She took another handful of water and sucked it down. "I was trying to kill myself with those shots they were giving me, and I'm feeling like hell warmed over for my stupidity, but I'm not in a mood to die this morning."

Something in man's eyes changed disturbingly, the flecked milky white streaking with black that seemed to shrink and grow for a moment. "He wants me to hurt you."

Turning her gaze into the bucket, she tilted her head slightly in his direction. "He wants to change my opinion of the newly fallen." Snippets of conversation from the evening floated through her mind. "The problem is, I know what you are and I know what they are." Verena lifted her eyes to give the man wolfing down the rice a grim smile. "Abusus non tollit usum. Do what you have to do and make it up to someone else later."

His hand stopped halfway to his mouth and he gave her a stunned look. "You... I am Athidrial." The way he said it was as if his name should explain a mistake she was making.

"We haven't met or I'd remember your eyes." She took another drink of water. "Vaemius has eyes like smoky quartz, and Cehrael is more like lemon quartz. Numphreon has eyes like ametrine. I go looking for the stones after I see their eyes. It's a habit I picked up from Uncle."

"You... You know three?"

"I know more than three but they're the ones who keep me safe more often than not. Lethuel has eyes like vermarine. He's the one who taught me a few things in Latin. He's a patient teacher even though my pronunciation is apparently horrendous." She made the man's peculiar 'tsk-ah!' sound and drew a strangled laugh out of Athidrial.

As she gave him a warmer smile his face fell and he closed his eyes setting down the bowl and covering his face. Verena got to her feet and hauled the bucket over to him.

"Semper ad meliora. He said that to me so many times I thought about getting it tattooed. Strive. Strive to be better. Always toward better things." Seating herself cross-legged near him with the bucket between them she waited for him to look up.

"I... I tried to-"

The door began to clatter and the fallen pushed himself back into his corner. Caimrael came back in scratching his manicured beard. "Did I give you too much?"

"No." Verena brought herself to her feet, straightening the jacket she was still wearing. "Before I went into protective custody, hiding from you, I used to share almost every meal with the newly fallen no matter how much or how little I had."

"The ritual of breaking bread has always been potent for your kind." He looked amused. "Savmon suggested it. He said you became fond of him after you went drinking together. You shared a meal as well?"

"If fried scorpions count as a meal, I suppose we did."

"That seems a little adventurous for someone from," Caim gestured with a smile, "this area."

"I invited a demon out for drinks and the scorpions seem surprising?" She tilted her head at him and gave him a dubious look trying not to betray the amount of pain she was still in.

"If you're willing to be a charming dinner companion I can have a bath arranged for you and a meal better than your lunch." The way his lips curved was unsettling. "I would of course, require an advance payment of conversation to be persuaded to dine with someone dressed the way you prefer to be."

Studying him grimly, she decided to negotiate, "I'll dress nicely for dinner, be a pretty little doll, but I get a bath, in a clean tub with all of the bells and whistles, hot water, soap, shampoo, conditioner, bubbles, access to a functional toilet with soft, usable toilet paper-"

Caimrael began to laugh.

"-I'm not done. Clean toothbrush, good toothpaste-"

He lifted his hand, "Penthouse suite bathroom with all the amenities, everything you require will be fresh, new, and clean. Clothing will be provided, enough for you to select something appropriate to attend a formal dinner. If you do well at dinner I may allow you to stay in the suite."

She folded her arms. "I'd prefer to return here and stay with him than stay elsewhere."

It looked like his eyes flashed for a moment. "If you're asking me for a favor-"

Verena broke into fake laughter. "Nah. You put me here to apply stress. If you want to see what someone is made out of that's how you do it. Alcohol poisoning? Stress. Hungover, locked in a cell? Stress. If anything I'm doing you a favor. You don't need to go out of your way to put me somewhere nice, this'll do."

"For you, stress would be skimpy clothes and loud places. An oubliette is very nearly a wellness retreat." He began to grin showing more teeth than anyone should have.

"You were just offering to reward me for behaving at dinner, weren't you? I'm just trying to save you money and trouble."

"I think I'd prefer more comfortable surroundings. I seldom come here anymore. Alithrial is boring."

"Athidrial," she corrected him before she could stop herself.

"You've spoken to him I see. Cordially?"

"Barely at all. It's like I'm trying to coax a kid into a panel van."

"But you're willing to risk my annoyance to have him given the dignity of his proper name?"

"There are three things I never forget, eyes, wings, and names. Everyone deserves the dignity of their proper name." She winced, "If they want it."

"What is your proper name, child of breath?" The demon beckoned for her to come with him.

"Verena Alvar, because that's the name I want to be called."

"And not the name you were given at birth?"

"I know from looking at me you might get the wrong impression, but I'm not a cheap date, Caimrael. With Demons I operate on a strict pay to play policy because I know whatever I get needs to be worth my inevitable, horrible death." Verena offered her best imitation of a smile. "You're not going to get that kind of information on a first date."

"If you don't behave at dinner there may not be a second." He gave her a look that suggested he was enjoying himself.

"I get the bath and all the amenities we discussed and I will be on my best behavior for dinner. No cursing, no causing a scene, and I will be respectful. I will even do my best to be charming and converse, but giving you information I prefer not to part with costs more than a bath and a meal."

"But there is a price?"

"A price can always be set. I didn't start this job yesterday and it requires an understanding that dealing with demons means there's a price on absolutely everything."

"Half of my job has already been done for me." Caimrael closed the door, locking Athidrial inside.

°°°°°°°°°°

Eleven

Verena had never taken hours to get ready for a meal in her life. Between bathing and having a swarm of hairdressers, make-up artists, and other assorted assistants descend on her like locusts the preparations had taken what she considered to be an absolutely ridiculous amount of time.

When they'd finished however, she couldn't recognize herself in the mirror. Her dark brown hair was up in an elegant Greek looking up-do and her face was painted to look like she actually belonged in the grey, one shoulder, gathered gown that emphasized the impression of greekness somehow. She looked like she was pretending to be something else entirely.

Frowning at the woman in the mirror as if it would make the reflection stop appearing so foreign wasn't helping.

"Except for the expression on your face you look like a vision of loveliness." Caimrael eyed her from the doorway wearing a tuxedo that looked poured on. Every line of it flattered his figure in a way that even movie stars would envy.

"I feel like I'm pretending to be something else. I don't like it."

He laughed and beckoned for her to come with him. "You prefer to appear plain, modest, and unassuming." He carefully draped a black pashmina with a delicate, greek pattern in faint silver thread across her shoulders in such a way that it looked modest and elegant at once. "Threats should announce themselves."

"As a general rule, I agree with that but I don't consider myself a threat."

Walking in the low but thin, strappy 'comma heels', as one of the women who'd dressed her had called them, took more concentration than she expected and she wobbled slightly on the way to the elevator.

Caimrael snorted. "We don't have to go far. The restaurant is here. You may want to try to look more impressive." As the elevator doors opened he put on a smirk and stepped forward ushering her along with a hand on her back.

His attention was focused ahead and she could see why. At the entrance to the hallway he intended to go down were two impressive angels with wings half spread glaring at them both. They looked nearly identical. As far as she could see, one bore slightly greyer speckles on the edge of its wings than the other, but both were creamy white underneath, and both had eyes that were translucent and silvery, but the greyer one's eyes seemed a hint more blue than the other.

"They stand guard and make a note of who enters when royalty is dining." He sounded perversely pleased and tried to keep her moving past them.

If there were angels here, however, they might be worth speaking to. Verena peeled off at the last moment putting herself face to face with the brown speckled angel.

Keeping her voice low she spoke quickly, "Three things I never forget, eyes, wings, and names, I haven't-" Her jaw clenched in pain as Caimrael took hold of her arm.

"You made a promise."

"I promised to have dinner, and to be polite and charming, not cause a scene or trouble." She was barely able to force the words out, "Stopping to speak to them is business and not a violation of my word."

"Business?" Caim arched a brow at her and she thought he smiled faintly.

"I haven't met them before. If I meet a demon that isn't actively trying to murder me I usually try to get its name, I do the same with angels but the opportunity is rarer."

The pain subsided. Turning an apologetic look on the angel she opened her mouth to continue but the angel interrupted her, "Dispel him."

"Can't. That wouldn't be polite and I gave my word, not to mention I'm not permitted to take jobs from either side. They have to come from a human. I'm Verena Alvar, would you be kind enough to tell me your name?"

It studied her coldly for a moment, "Do you know what you have agreed to?"

"I agreed to have dinner, to be polite, charming if possible, and not to cause a scene or any trouble. Nothing beyond that. If I do well at dinner, whatever that means, I'll be permitted to go back and sit with Athidrial."

The angel widened its eyes slightly and then gave a slight tilt of its head, "I am Sertaniel."

"You learned its name." Caimrael pulled on her arm unyieldingly and she inclined her head to Sertaniel.

"Thank you, I'll remember the name." She kept her head up as she allowed herself to be drawn down the hall.

The dining room wasn't what she expected. This was some sort of private dining room decorated in art nouveau glass panels and a ceiling made to look like a skylight with frosted glass. Otherwise, the furnishings seemed unremarkable, a large table with a white cloth and mauve chairs.