Cole was up early after another sleepless night. He had not heard from Zafira or Gabriel for five days. He still did not know the outcome of their confrontation. This was his first day back on duty with the Chicago PD’s Bureau of Detectives after a week of paid leave ordered by his captain.

He looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot and he had not shaved for days. “Quite the specimen,” he thought.

He poured himself a cup of hot black coffee in a near-hopeless attempt to kick-start his day. He felt uneasy, then startled, when the windows of his apartment began to vibrate. Was there a helicopter overhead? An earthquake?

He saw a flash of light from his living room. He rushed inside — and found Zafira! She stepped through a dark roiling portal and into his apartment wearing her usual attire: leather jacket, little cocktail dress, knee high boots and sheer stockings, all in black.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Cole asked tiredly.

“Boy, aren’t we grumpy today? If having a case of blue balls is your problem, I’ve got plenty of ways to fix that,” she retorted.

Cole rolled his eyes and left for the kitchen. He retrieved his coffee and returned to the living room to plop on the couch.

“Where have you been? I’ve been wondering for days what happened between you and Gabriel.”

“How did you really think that would play out?”

“It would have been nice to know sooner.”

“Aww,” Zafira said, pouting her lips as she sat on the couch beside him. “You were worried about little ol’ me. That’s so sweet!”

He was a little worried. Zafira was the only hope he had left of ever finding who killed Maria. Putting herself in the sights of an experienced demon hunter did not seem like the best idea to him.

“So did you, uh, get what you needed from him?” Cole asked.

Zafira smiled wickedly. She tossed him a jar, inside was a bloody human heart.

“Ew!” Cole shouted. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby!” Zafira teased. “Put it in your fridge. I’m afraid my new pet might try to eat it.”

“New pet?” Cole asked inquisitively.

“It’s a long story,” Zafira said, nonchalantly stretching her tempting legs across Cole’s lap.

Cole gazed at the heart inside the jar. “What do we need this for anyway?”

“We need to perform a ritual in order to find Maria’s killer. For this ritual, we needed the heart of a priest. Gabriel needed to be eliminated anyway. That made him a most convenient target.”

Cole sat the jar down on his coffee table, “What else do we need for this… ritual? Hopefully nothing that requires more dead bodies.”

Zafira laughed. “Nope, no more dead bodies. Though the remaining items may prove to be tricky to obtain.”

“Why is that?” Cole asked.

Zafira unzipped the sides of her boots and kicked them off. They clattered on the floor. “Before we get into that, there’s a matter that needs to be addressed first.”

Cole set down his empty coffee cup and rubbed Zafira’s stocking covered feet. “What issue would that be?”

“I’m hungry,” she said with a devilish smile.

“Something tells me you’re not in the mood for Chinese,” Cole said sarcastically, continuing to rub her feet.

“Chinese, Mexican, Bulgarian, whatever. Their nationality doesn’t really matter, so long as they have a corrupt soul.”

“As I thought,” Cole said tightly.

Zafira looked down at Cole’s hands on her feet. “You certainly have a way with massages.”

Cole looked at his hands and stopped what he was doing. He had not even realized he was massaging her feet.

“Sorry, I um… I used to….”

“Maria?” she assumed.

“Yes,” Cole admitted.

“I don’t mind. In fact, it’s kind of nice to have someone do something for me of their own free will.”

Cole resumed massaging her. The silky texture of her feet felt just as good on his hands as his firm touch felt to her. His hands wandered a little further up her legs, rubbing her ankles and calves. Zafira smiled softly and hummed to his magical ministrations. Her sweet intoxicating pheromones, a smell that Cole had come to recognize as a sign of Zafira’s arousal, started to fill the air of his apartment.

Cole looked into her eyes. “Something I’ve been curious about since we’ve met. You came from Hell, right?”

Zafira nodded. “That’s right.”

“What is Hell like?”

Zafira snickered. “Are you afraid of where you may end up?”

Cole slid his hands further up Zafira’s legs, now to her knees. “No… just curious.”

“Hell isn’t a place, more like a separate plane of existence. Same with Heaven. Both exist side by side with your familiar mundane world, only separated by an invisible dimensional fabric. The layouts of these worlds are the same, just very different environments and occupants. Hell is chaotic: barren lands, constant wind storms, dark red skies, rivers and oceans of molten lava instead of water. Hell’s resident demons all struggle constantly for power. I haven’t seen Heaven but I imagine it is the exact opposite.”

“Do you ever miss being there?”

“Does it sound like a place someone would miss?” Zafira snorted. “Of course not! Here, I get to do whatever I want, whenever I want, and with or to whomever I want. So long as I keep a low profile from angels and Crusaders, anyway.”

“I assume you didn’t have such freedoms in Hell. Who rules over Hell anyway?”

Zafira laughed as if Cole had made a funny joke. “I suppose you expect me to say Satan or Lucifer. Shows how little humanity knows of the planes! Hell is overseen by seven Aspects, otherwise known as The Seven Sins. Each Aspect is a powerful demon that represents a sin, and they have lesser demons who spread their sin across Hell and sometimes into the Human World.”

Cole’s hands reached Zafira’s inner thighs under her dress. “What about Heaven?”

“I don’t know much about Heaven, obviously. However, I do know Heaven follows a similar structure. They have seven Aspects as well, each representing a virtue.”

The pheromones were thick in Cole’s nostrils. His cock stiffened dangerously the further his hands slipped under Zafira’s dress. He was still in control of his body — but like that night in Grant Park, it sought to betray him.

Zafira saw his hesitation. “Keep going. You know you want to,” she said with a seductive purr.

His fingers crawled further up her dress, finally reaching the end of the road. He thumbed through the small landing strip of hair above her sex. Then lightly, oh so lightly, ran his fingers across her sweet moist nether lips. He wanted her. Desired her. Craved her.

Then a vision of what happens to those who give in to their lust flashed across Cole’s mind. They become shriveled lifeless husks, damned for all eternity. He hastily jerked his hands out from under Zafira’s dress and put them in his lap.

Zafira smirked at Cole as she stood and pulled her boots back on. “Don’t forget about your end of our deal, Cole. I need to feed, and soon.”

Cole nodded. “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll return to work today. I can check the archives for someone you might find… palatable.”

Zafira smiled. “I look forward to you bringing me dinner.” She gave Cole a hug and a peck on his cheek.

She gestured to reopen the portal she came through.

“Oh, one more thing: take this.”

She tossed Cole a palm-sized crystal. It was purple in color, and he could feel it vibrate with a small thrum of power.

“What’s this?”

“Think of it as a key to my lair. If you are ever in need of my assistance, just hold that crystal above your head with your right hand.”

His face twisted. “Couldn’t I, you know, call you? Like a normal person?”

“I’m an old fashioned demon, Cole. Your human technology and I don’t get along.”

Cole laughed. This abundantly powerful creature, so gifted in the dark arts, was thwarted by the simple intricacies of a cell phone. Oh, the irony.

Zafira stepped into the portal. “Don’t keep me waiting, Cole. Bad things happen to those who stand me up.” She winked at him and the portal closed, leaving him alone in his living room.

Cole looked at his watch. Shit! He was going to be late for work!

xxxxx

Cole returned to work at the precinct. He first reported to Captain Finnegan’s office, knocking on the already open door. The captain looked up from his deskload of paperwork.

“Ah, Detective Harvey! Glad you’re back. Are you trying a new rugged look around the station?”

In his haste to be on time, Cole had forgotten to shave.

“No sir, just running a little late this morning,” Cole replied.

The captain gestured with a curt nod. “Have a seat.”

Cole sat in the chair opposite of Captain Finnegan’s desk. “We need answers, Harvey. Since you were the only witness to what happened that night, I’m putting you in charge of this investigation. This is a high profile case, probably the highest of your career. I’ve got the mayor breathing down my neck and I need you to get to the bottom of this. Can I count on you?”

“Yes Sir!” Cole replied with enthusiasm. He stifled his inner anxiety.

Captain Finnegan considered the detective. “Good. You’re dismissed.”

Cole left the captain’s office to spend most of the day at his desk, re-reading all the reports on the night club murder and scanning the police archives for a proper candidate for Zafira to… make disappear. Sure, there were plenty of thugs, drug dealers, pimps, and similar scum, but he felt they were not deserving of the death penalty.

“Cole! I see you’re back today. I have something to talk to you about.”

Cole looked away from his computer monitor. Frank stood nearby in an all-too-serious pose.

“Look, if this is about the other day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper like that.”

“No, no. It’s not about that at all,” Frank said. “I have a lead on Maria’s killer!”

Cole practically jumped from his chair. “What do you got?!” he shouted.

“I’ll explain at Vince’s lab.”

They briskly walked to the medical examiner’s lab in the precinct’s basement. Cole was anxious. Could this finally be the big break he had sought all this time?

Frank and Cole stepped into the pathologist’s realm. They found Vince staring at his computer monitor.

“Okay, Vince,” Frank said. “Show Cole what you’ve found.”

Vince turned around, “Hey! Glad you’re back.”

“Spare me the pleasantries and get on with it,” Cole said impatiently.

“Right,” Vince said. He ignored his friend’s brusqueness. “So, as you know, one of the only pieces of evidence we have in Maria’s shooting is a partial fingerprint on one of the bullet casings found at the crime scene. Due to it being small and incomplete, we’ve been unable to identify who the print belongs to.”

“That is, until now,” Frank said with a big smile on his face.

Vince turned back to his computer monitor. “The FBI was kind enough to allow me to try out their new experimental software. Using a database of billions of fingerprints, the software is able to ‘guess’ what the rest of a partial fingerprint could look like. It was able to compile eighteen possibilities.”

“So?” Cole asked, waiting for the punch line.

“So,” Frank said. “The weapon used in the shooting was a rare 9mm Belgian revolver. We know this because, when this gun is fired, the hammer leaves a unique imprint on the casing. We cross referenced the eighteen possible fingerprints with the number of registered Belgian revolvers on file and found a single match!”

Vince typed into his computer and then turned his monitor toward Cole. “Meet Markus Santana. The man has quite the rap sheet. Burglary, drug trafficking, and is currently on parole after being convicted of armed robbery. He was released on good behavior just before Maria’s murder. We checked the surveillance footage of the robbery and sure enough, the masked armed gunman was holding a 9mm Belgian revolver.”

Cole’s blood boiled as he stared at the mugshot of Markus on the monitor. “So what the fuck are we waiting for?!” he shouted.

“With this software being experimental, it wouldn’t be admissible in court.” Vince said.

“But,” Frank interjected. “It does look convincing. Convincing enough for a judge to issue a search warrant. If we find the revolver with his prints on it, we can match them to the casing found at Maria’s crime scene.”

“How long?” Cole asked.

“The warrant should be signed by tomorrow morning,” Frank said. “I have a team already assembled and ready to go. Vince here will be with us to handle the evidence.”

It all seemed to fit together so neatly. Could this really be right? There was, however, one way to know for sure.

“Good work, both of you. Thank you,” Cole said. “Tell me what you find once the search warrant is a go.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Vince said with a reassuring smile.

Cole left the lab, grabbed what he needed, and left the precinct. It was time to take Zafira out to dinner.

xxxxx

Cole stood outside Zafira’s lair under the dirty highway overpass. He felt a little foolish, but he held the crystal she gave him in his right fist and raised it above his head. The crystal responded with a dim hum and a bright violet glow.

Immediately, a portal appeared from the concrete wall where Cole had entered her lair before. Zafira stepped out, wearing an all-too-familiar dress — the red cocktail dress she wore when they first met at the night club. The dress left little to the imagination as to what was underneath. She also wore the same stiletto heels that would be the envy of all women onlookers.

Zafira sashayed over to Cole, standing beside his car.

“Get in,” he said brusquely.

“Hmmm, I don’t see anyone with you. I assume I’m eating out tonight?”

“I said, get in!” Cole ordered.

“My, my! You’re even crankier than this morning. Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Zafira asked, her bright red eyes giving him a cold stare.

Cole quickly came to his senses. He was not normally this temperamental. His rage and impatience clouded his judgment.

“I’m sorry, Zafira,” he apologized. “I’ll explain on the way.”

“Apology accepted,” Zafira said. She opened the passenger door. “Besides, the badass vibe doesn’t work well for you.”

They drove from under the overpass onto the access road. Zafira noticed Cole gripping the steering wheel unusually tightly. He had a fierce, fiery look in his eyes, a look of complete determination.

“So, uh, where are we going?” she asked finally.

“Some colleagues at the station found some new evidence on Maria’s murder. We are going to make sure it checks out.”

“I thought you were supposed to bring me dinner,” Zafira sighed.

“If it does check out, you’ll have your damn dinner, don’t worry,” Cole said coldly.

Zafira tossed him her signature devilish smile. “Oh, I like it when you’re cold hearted!” She leaned over and kissed the side of his neck. “It really turns me on.”

Cole paid no mind to her tongue running up and down his neck and her hand fondling his genitals as he drove. He was focused, and not even a sexy demon like Zafira could deter him from his goal.

It was not a far drive to his destination. He parked on the roadside next to a shabby set of run-down houses. It was a very poor neighborhood; Cole’s police instincts told him to be on his guard here. He looked across the street at a run-down white house. It had expanded metal sheets over the windows to protect against vandals, broken downspouts, chipped paint, an untended yard, and several beat up cars in the driveway.

“Well this certainly isn’t the most romantic place to dine,” Zafira said. “But I’m not going to be too picky at this point. What are we doing here again?”

“We’re looking for a man: Markus Santana. His last known address is that shitty house over there. The cars in the driveway suggest he is inside. When he comes out, I need you to use your mind reading ability to tell me if he killed Maria.”

Zafira looked at him, confused. “And you suspect the man who killed your wife lives in that shit hole? What do you base this on, exactly?”

“It’s a bunch of techno-babble you wouldn’t understand,” Cole said. “You and technology don’t get along, remember?”

“And yet here you are, using my magic for confirmation. Oh, the irony.” Zafira said with a smug look.

A man opened the front door of the shabby house just then, a very thin dark-skinned man with huge unruly curly hair. He stepped from the porch and walked to a car.

“That’s him!” Cole said. “Get everything you can on him.”

“I need him to look me in the eyes,” Zafira proclaimed.

The man was just about to get in his car when Cole rolled down his window and whistled at Markus. The man turned his gaze towards them, and then showed Cole his middle finger. Zafira’s eyes flashed red for an instant and went back to their normal color.

“Well?” Cole asked impatiently.

Zafira sighed, “I’m sorry Cole, but it wasn’t him. He has never stepped foot in your house.”

“What?” Cole shouted. “That can’t be! His prints are on the fucking bullet casing found at the crime scene!”

“Stop your shouting!” Zafira countered. “You wanted me to tell you and I did. What reason would I have to lie to you?”

“So you can finish this ritual thing you keep vaguely mentioning that I still don’t know what the hell it’s for.”

“It’s to find Maria’s killer. That is all you need to know. Performing it has absolutely no benefit to me. Now you can either take my word for it or I can leave Chicago. The choice is yours.”

Damn it all! He thought for sure this was the big break he needed. Perhaps he hoped for closure so much that it, along with his rage, had made him act irrationally.

“I’m sorry,” Cole said. “Thank you for helping me. I just want to put this all behind me, you know?”

“I’m aware,” Zafira said. “But this ended up being a waste of time for the both of us. His soul isn’t even corrupt.”

“Wait. Not corrupt? At all?”

“Well, his soul isn’t pure like yours, but he hasn’t done anything bad either. Everything he was charged with has been his brother Antonio’s doing. Apparently his brother blames him for the death of their mother who died giving birth to Markus. Now that Antonio is a big shot lawyer, Markus doesn’t want to ruin his image. So instead, he takes the fall for everything Antonio does, including the armed robbery that Antonio did just for fun. All because ‘family always sticks together’ or some nonsense. You humans do the dumbest things sometimes.”

Cole felt like an ass. Moments ago he was ready to hang an innocent man. Now he felt sorry for him. The CPD would be raiding his house tomorrow hoping to find the revolver that matched the bullet casing. If they find it, he would likely go to prison, and whoever killed Maria would walk away scot-free.

“Did he know anything about a 9mm Belgian revolver?” Cole asked.

“It was a gift to Antonio from their father. Markus doesn’t have it, so it is likely with Antonio.”

“Good,” Cole said. “At least the CPD won’t be able to pin Maria’s murder on him.”

“There’s more,” Zafira said. “Markus knows Antonio is one of many buyers in the sex trade organization you’ve been tracking. Travis Dunham was also an old acquaintance of his.”

Cole started the car and put it in gear.

“Now where are we going?” Zafira asked.

“We’re going to pay Antonio a visit. I hope you’re still hungry.”

xxxxx

They arrived at Antonio’s imposing upscale house on the far side of town. The lawyer lived in a large two-story brick house with a gated parameter and obvious security cameras.

“Well, Antonio is certainly living comfortably,” Zafira observed.

“Yeah, at his brother’s expense,” Cole sourly replied.

“He either must not like visitors or he has something to hide.”

Cole observed the premises. “How do we get to him? We don’t even know he’s inside.”

“Leave that to me. You stay here,” Zafira said.

Zafira slid from the car and walked to the gate. She fluffed her hair, adjusted her bust line, and then rang the buzzer while smiling for the camera.

A man’s voice emerged from the small intercom a few moments later. “Who’s there?” the voice said.

“Hi, my name is… Jenny. I represent the superiors of the late Travis Dunham and I’m here on their behalf. I’m here to discuss new potential business.”

“Come inside,” the voice said.

The steel gates opened. Zafira gave Cole a wink and a smile, and then proceeded towards Antonio’s front door.

Cole shook his head in amazement. “She makes it look so easy,” he said to himself as the gates closed behind her.

Before Zafira could knock, a dark skinned man wearing a navy blue robe opened the door. Antonio looked to be fresh from a shower, his hair still wet and combed to one side. His eyes scanned her up and down. He marveled at her perfect body, and hungered. She also gazed upon him with hungry eyes.

“Please, right this way,” he said, inviting her inside.

Zafira walked in. Antonio closed the door behind her. The interior was very upper-class, complete with an ivory-white grand piano in the living room, and impressive-looking paintings, sculpture, pottery, and other modern art pieces throughout the house. Antonio, it would seem, was quite the art buff.

“So, what is it you wish to discuss?” he asked.

Zafira turned toward him, invading his personal space. She drew a line with her index finger down his chest through the small gap in his robe. “First I’d like to discuss where the bedroom is.”

“Pleasure before business, I like it!” he said eagerly. “Come. It’s right upstairs.”

He took her hand and led the way up the stairs to the master bedroom. Inside were a large four poster bed, sumptuous bedroom furniture, and an attached master bathroom with a large Jacuzzi tub.

“Classy,” Zafira said as she left Antonio’s hand and sat on the edge of the bed. She kicked off her stilettos, and then pulled up the skirt of her dress to her waistline. Antonio was instantly aroused by the sight of her alluring trimmed pussy in plain view. She lightly rubbed on her clit with her index finger, enticing him to come touch her.

And touch her, he did.

Antonio walked to her and knelt between her legs. The sweet smell of her sex was intoxicating. He touched her swollen clit with his tongue while she manipulated herself. His tongue worked with her fingers to quickly arouse Zafira. Her pussy juices flowed like a steady stream, coating his chin while he lapped at her clit.

She grabbed the back of his head, tangled her fingers within his hair, and bucked her hips against his face. It was hard for Antonio to breathe, but he was not about to complain. He ingested her sweet nectar like manna straight from Heaven. Zafira whimpered softly while Antonio drank of her dripping sex.

Antonio stood and disrobed. With his cock hard and his balls tight, he pressed his tip at her entrance and plunged deep inside her. Her warm damp pussy clenched around his cock like a vice.

“My God! You are so tight, baby!” he praised her.

Zafira rolled her eyes. “Spare me the pillow talk and fuck me!”

She commanded, and he obeyed. He pulled her legs onto his shoulders and leaned forward. Antonio thrust into her, faster and faster, with long deep strokes. His pelvis slapped hard against her pussy while she dug her fingernails into his shoulders.

Zafira’s pleasure built to a crescendo. She screamed, loudly, and again. Her orgasms cascaded into an avalanche of sexual bliss while Antonio fucked her.

With a quick twist, Zafira rolled over. “Lay on your back,” she ordered.

Antonio positioned himself as directed. She hastily mounted him. His long dark cock slid easily between the slick folds of her slit. She lifted her red dress over her head in one swift motion and tossed it to the floor.

Antonio’s hands grabbed hold of her silky soft mounds. Her erect nipples grazed his hungry palms. The bed squeaked loudly beneath them as Zafira bounced on his shaft with increasing ferocity.

She felt him tense, and she was ready to feed — but suddenly, the bedroom door opened.

“Well, what do we have here?” asked a wavering voice.

Zafira looked over her shoulder to see a woman with long black hair in a white silk nightgown standing in the doorway holding a glass of wine.

“Shit! This isn’t good,” Zafira thought. In her haste to consume Antonio’s soul, she forgot to check to see if anyone else was in the house.

“Come on in, honey,” Antonio invited.

The woman stumbled a bit towards the bed. It was apparent that she had too much to drink.

“So, is she the latest purchase?” she asked.

“Nope, she’s here to discuss future transactions.”

“So she’s an appetizer then?” The woman rubbed her hands across Zafira’s breasts.

“Well this certainly is a surprise,” Zafira thought to herself. “Maybe I won’t have to kill her… yet.”

“I’m Jenny, and you are?” Zafira asked.

“Clair,” the woman answered, dropping her nightgown.

Zafira looked at this woman’s naked body, and wet her lips. Clair’s breasts were large, but fake, with tiny brown nipples floating on pale aureola. She showed an enticing hourglass figure, a flat stomach, and a completely bare pussy.

“Surely you don’t think you get to keep her all to yourself.Do you, Anton?” Clair said with a coquettish smile and wink.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” he replied.

Clair climbed into the bed beside Zafira. Taking Zafira’s nipple into her mouth, she suckled her while Antonio resumed thrusting inside her. Zafira ran her fingers through Clair’s long thick hair while Clair fed off her breasts. Clair raised her head and planted her lips right on Zafira’s. Their tongues tangled together while Zafira touched Clair’s bald pussy, already slick from arousal.

“I have an idea I think we all can enjoy,” Zafira said slyly.

Zafira motioned for Clair to lie on her back. She then spread Clair’s legs and crawled between them. Zafira’s fingers spread the folds of Clair’s nether lips wide and lashed at her wet pussy with her tongue. She made long tender licks that quickly escalated into intense sucking of Clair’s throbbing button.

“My pussy wants to be fucked more, Antonio,” Zafira said suggestively before she dove back into Clair’s sweet sex.

Antonio wasted no time. He positioned himself behind Zafira and inched his hungry cock inside her. Zafira mewled into Clair’s pussy as Antonio picked up speed. Antonio’s rhythmic thrusts slammed Zafira’s face repeatedly into Clair’s crotch. The room was a sinful symphony of lewd sex noises, between Clair’s moaning, Zafira humming into Clair’s pussy, and Antonio slapping Zafira’s ass.

Zafira slithered her unnatural tongue deep into Clair’s vagina. Very deep. Clair let out the scream of a banshee when Zafira’s tongue lightly brushed against her cervix. Claire’s orgasm wracked her mind and body. Zafira’s tongue lapped at her spent pussy, ingesting all of her sweet arousal.

It seemed the orgasm and alcohol were too much for Clair. She passed out right after she climaxed.

“Not the first time for that,” Antonio snickered. “Fucking lush.”

Zafira turned over. “I guess we’ll have to finish this party by ourselves then.”

Antonio climbed on top of her again, staring into Zafira’s face. Her eyes flashed red briefly, then back to brown.

“What the…”

Antonio’s speech halted, his face now completely free of expression.

“Oh. Oh no.” Zafira said with a sorrowful tone in her voice. “I had no idea you had that locked away in that pea brain of yours. You son-of-a-bitch!”

Zafira rose from the bed. Antonio remained motionless, and Clair was still passed out cold.

“How should I handle this?” Zafira asked herself as she paced around the room. After a few minutes of pondering, Zafira devised her answer.

Antonio’s body came to life under Zafira’s control. Like an automaton, he walked to a nearby desk drawer. He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and started writing. When he finished, he put the paper into an unmarked envelope and handed it to Zafira.

“That will do nicely. Now then, time to finish this.”

Zafira sat on the edge of the bed. Antonio positioned himself between her thighs. He seized her hips. His cock slipped inside her. He fucked her with mindless bestial abandon. Zafira’s horns and wings extended outward, preparing for his soul to be released inside her. He groaned and twitched and shot his cum deep inside Zafira’s demonic pussy. His body shriveled instantly and collapsed to the floor.

Zafira sat up and peered at the desiccated husk formerly known as Antonio Santana. “You deserved much worse.”

Satisfied, Zafira regained her composure and got dressed. She leaned over Clair’s unconscious body. “You’re in for quite a shock tomorrow. I don’t know who will find your shriveled up husband first, you or the police. Either way, you’re taking the fall for the night club murder. I can’t thank you enough, Clair. It is, however, a fitting end for someone who enslaves young women for her own sexual pleasure.”

Zafira dressed then collected the envelope and walked downstairs. She strolled into a small office filled with files and literature, all neatly organized. At the room’s center was a large desk where Antonio spent most of his time. She opened the bottom drawer of the desk and extracted a small black lockbox. With a snap of her fingers, the box popped open. The 9mm Belgian revolver and its forged registration papers in Antonio’s brother’s name were inside.

“That should be easy enough for them to find,” Zafira said to herself.

She left the opened lockbox on the desk and walked out the front door to Cole’s car.

“What took so long?” Cole asked.

“I had an unexpected run-in with Antonio’s wife,” Zafira replied as she got in passenger side.

“Oh? Is she…”

“She’s alive, but come tomorrow she will wish she wasn’t.”

“Why?” Cole asked.

“I’ll explain on the way back to Markus’ house. I’ve got a special delivery for him.”

xxxxx

It was late at night when Cole and Zafira arrived back at Markus Santana’s slum house.

“Wait here,” Zafira said.

She left Cole’s car and carefully stepped over the front yard litter. She climbed the sagging porch and knocked on Markus’ door. He cracked open the door slowly, then opened it fully.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he asked brazenly.

“Here,” Zafira said, handing him the unmarked envelope.

Markus opened the envelope and read the letter. “What the hell is this? There’s no way my brother would write something like this! He would never confess to everything he has done.”

“You don’t have to believe it,” Zafira said. “But the police who search your house tomorrow morning need to believe it. They will come looking for a 9mm Belgian revolver, which you will tell them is in your brother’s possession.”

“And why would I do that, lady?” Markus asked.

“Because your brother is dead. There’s no reason for you to protect him anymore. You can finally get on with your own life without being your brother’s scapegoat. This is a fresh start for you, Markus. Don’t blow it.”

Markus stood there dumbfounded. Zafira turned her back to him and stepped off the porch.

He stopped her. “Wait! Are you an angel?” he asked.

Zafira turned and giggled, “I’m far from an angel.”

A tear ran down Markus’ face. “Thank you, whoever you are.”

Zafira got back into Cole’s car. Cole started the engine and drove off. An uneasy silence haunted their drive back to Zafira’s lair. Cole parked under the overpass that Zafira called home.

“That was quite a noble thing you did,” Cole said. “Not quite the behavior I’d expect from a demon.”

“I did it for my own benefit. Don’t get things twisted.”

Cole snickered, “Well, everything turned out alright, even though we didn’t find who killed Maria.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Tomorrow I’ll be free and clear of the night club murder. That should at least get your boss off your neck.”

“Yeah, one less thing to worry about,” Cole admitted.

Zafira turned to Cole. “They will probably try to pin Maria’s murder on Antonio though, you realize this, right?”

Cole nodded his head. “It doesn’t matter. We know the truth, and once you perform this ritual, we’ll know for sure who killed my wife.”

Zafira paused for a moment. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m sure, more than anything,” he replied. “I can’t rely on old fashioned police work for this. I have to know exactly what happened that night.”

Zafira sat in silent contemplation for a moment. “We’ll make plans for the two remaining items we need tomorrow. Meet me here when you get off work.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

Zafira opened the passenger door, stepped out, then closed it. She watched as Cole put the car in reverse, easing back into the access road. He waved at her as he drove into the night.

Zafira stood there, reflecting on all that had transpired today.

“I hope you have the strength to live with the answers you seek, Cole Harvey.”

A small tear escaped the corner of Zafira’s eye.

“Some knowledge isn’t worth the pain.”

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR