Feature Writer: CorruptingPower
Feature Title: THE DEVIL’S DETAILS 3
Published: 13.03.2023
Story Codes: Demonic
Synopsis: A young paralegal finds herself entwined in a demonic game
The Devil’s Details 3
The difference in Tabitha’s old apartment and her new apartment, well, Veronica’s old apartment that Tabitha now owned (along with Veronica herself), wasn’t just miles apart, it was light years.
Her old place had been barely little more than a box with a toilet and shower attached. The “bed” if it could be called that, had been an old school Murphy bed that folded down from the wall, and when it was down, there was almost no space to walk about the main room of the apartment. In fact, from bed, Tabitha had been able to make dinner, brush her teeth, wash her face and get dressed without even having to stretch.
Her new place, the place she’d taken from Veronica, was the kind of obscenely large New York apartment she’d only heard rumors about, and didn’t believe actually existed. It was located at One Hundred Barclay and was only referred to the Penthouse. While her old apartment had been 500 square feet, if she was lucky, Veronica informed her that her new place was over 14,000 square feet, and took up two floors of the building. The living room had 20 foot high ceilings, and when Tabitha had asked how much the place cost, Veronica had only said that the original asking price had been $40 million, and there had been a bidding war that she’d eventually won by paying significantly more over asking price, in addition to intimidating a couple of buyers. Tabitha had wanted to ask exactly how she’d intimidated them, but was afraid that Veronica would’ve actually answered her.
There was fine art along the walls, and somehow Tabitha suspected none of it was prints or copies, but actual originals. In fact, as she wandered through the place for the first time, she decided that anywhere she stood in the new apartment, if she extended both of her arms out, the value of that area alone was probably worth more than anything she’d ever owned before.
It had been remarkably comforting, learning that she hadn’t been going crazy all those years, and now that she knew she was seeing actual things and not hallucinations, she’d thrown her prescriptions into the trash. The drugs had deadened her senses for much of her life, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d been living her life like the walking dead until the morning after she’d claimed Veronica, the drugs having flushed out of her system.
That morning, she stood naked at her window, looking out through the tempered glass that prevented anyone from looking into her place, watching the sun rise in the distance, noticing perhaps for the first time that not all the gargoyles that lined the tops of the skyscrapers in New York City stood perfectly still, some of them moving every so often when they thought no one was watching.
It was a weird world she found herself in, but she was going to make the best of it with as little or as much time as she had left, she decided, although she supposed that the amount of sand remaining in her hourglass was completely in her own hands at this point.
Veronica’s hand slid across Tabitha’s belly as her body pressed against Tabitha’s back, the demoness kissing the top of one of Tabitha’s shoulders. “You’re up early,” she purred. “Far earlier than I thought you would be.”
“I’ve been asleep all my life, Roni,” Tabitha chuckled. “Why on Heaven and Earth would I want to stay that way any longer than I have to?”
“That’s good, Mistress,” Veronica replied. “Time and tide wait for no man, or woman in this case. And your clock is ticking, so each and every moment should be precious and never wasted. Thirty days, seven women, well, nephilim that look like women. That means you only have a little more than four days each, so speed is of the essence, and idle hands will only cost you.”
“Do these women know they’re nephilim?”
“Generally not, but the angelic blood that runs through their veins has made them all exceptional at whatever they apply themselves to, and to a trained eye, the signs of their nephilimhood are relatively easy to spot.”
“Such as?”
Veronica tipped her head up, confused. “Excuse me, Mistress?”
“What sort of signs are easy to spot?”
“Ah,” the demoness replied. “Well, to those who can see past The Veil concealing the magic world from the mundane one, at moments when their gifts are in use, their eyes turn gold for the briefest of moments. You and I, for example, would be able to see that, even through a camera or on video, which has been of great aid for me lining up possible targets for you to consider.”
“Does the contest specify they have to be nephilim?”
“No, Mistress, but going at full blown angels is very high risk behavior, and certainly should only be a last ditch option,” she said, her fingertips toying with one of Tabitha’s dark nipples now. “While I have no doubt you might eventually be able to corrupt them, let’s wait until you’ve claimed your mantle from your mother’s legacy before you go about wing hunting.”
Tabitha smirked, tilting her head to one side. “You’re afraid of them.”
Veronica frowned in response. “No, Mistress, but I am respectful of the level of power they can bring to bear if they decide to. As I once told Alexander Hamilton, respecting one’s opponent does not have to entail underestimating one’s opponent. The worst can always be right around the corner.”
“Fine,” Tabitha said. “No angels, only angel spawn. I can manage that, at least while I’m getting a handle on things. Do you have a list I can pick from, or are you going to suggest an order to me?”
“I feel like the first few in the stack should be ones of my recommendation, but beyond that, I think you are free to decide for yourself when and where you want to make your move,” Veronica said, kissing Tabitha’s neck before pulling away, walking towards the kitchen. “The next one I have a bit of an in with, as we say in the business, so you’ll be able to focus on the task at hand, and not be distracted by having to figure out how to make your approach.”
Veronica had started coffee before coming over, and now that it was ready, she poured out two cups worth, one for herself and one for Tabitha. “Splash of cream and one sugar, yes?”
“As always, you’ve done your homework,” Tabitha said, strolling over towards the kitchen area, still not having bothered to put clothes on. It helped reinforce her position in her mind, being able to move around naked in such a large area. “Tell me about this first target and how you have an in with her. I can’t imagine anyone called AOA for anything good.”
“It’s not as big a deal as she made it out to be, but I suppose if I hadn’t handled it, there was the potential of it turning into a media shitstorm,” Veronica said, holding the mug out to Tabitha, arm of the cup towards her. Based on how steaming the coffee was, either it was quite insulated or Veronica had quite the tolerance to heat. Either seemed possible.
“Start with a name.”
“Kelly Simone,” Veronica responded. “There’s a chance you might have heard of her, depending on what hobbies you may have kept hidden from me. As much as I tried, I couldn’t learn everything about you while you were growing up. Have you? Heard of her, I mean.”
“The name doesn’t ring any bells,” Tabitha said, lifting the coffee to her lips, taking a sip from it. She wasn’t sure what kind of coffee it was, but it was definitely some sort of exotic roast she’d never had before, and the very taste of it felt decadent and sinful on her tongue in the best possible way. “Who is she?”
“She’s a soccer player,” Veronica said, grabbing a tablet from the countertop, tapping on it to make it spring to life. She touched and swiped at it a few times before finding the app she wanted, opening it and getting some presentation she’d clearly prepared in advance. “This is her.”
Veronica laid the table down in front of Tabitha, then spun it around to make sure it was right side up. On the screen was a large image of a soccer player, her long dirty blonde hair held back from her face by a headband, the majority of it drawn into a rather bushy ponytail full of volume. She had a wide smile with perfect white teeth on display. The jersey was a sort of faded powder blue with a big circular logo smack dab in the center of it, the letters Y, C and N visible in that order, although Tabitha realized it must have been for NYC. Her skin was tan, maybe a stripe of Greek or Italian heritage in her or perhaps just a good amount of time spent out in the sun. The expression on her face exuded confidence by the mile.
“She’s certainly pretty enough,” Tabitha said, pinching her fingers together and then flicking them apart to make the image zoom in on Kelly’s face. “How old?”
“19,” Veronica replied. “Turns twenty a week or so before Halloween.”
“So let me guess,” Tabitha said. “She got drunk and trashed her car or something? She strikes me as the sort of girl who would both start drinking early and wouldn’t accept that she couldn’t hold onto her liquor and insisted on driving herself home from a party when she shouldn’t have.”
“Zero for one,” Veronica chuckled. “Dear little Kelly here is straight edge. No liquor, no cigarettes, no pot, no vaping.”
Tabitha grinned, rolling her eyes a little. “Don’t tell me she’s a vegan.”
“Most certainly not,” Veronica replied. “You want to take a second guess at why she called me, or should I just come out and tell you?”
“Got pregnant and needed an abortion, and you to hush it up from her family?”
“Bzzt!” Veronica giggled, miming a buzzer, reaching across the countertop to swipe on the picture, moving to the next image where Kelly was wearing a jersey with a rainbow flag, playing on a field with several other people in matching jerseys, clearly at some sort of charity event. “No dick for our girl Kelly here. She’s the first letter in the sexuality alphabet coalition – a great big L.”
Tabitha shook her head, throwing one hand up into the air. “Then I think I’m about all out of guesses. So tell me, why’d she need AOA’s help?”
Veronica reached over and swiped on the tablet to show the next image, a very good looking sporty woman that Tabitha didn’t recognize, but the woman’s face wasn’t the first thing she noticed. The woman’s neck had bruising around it, and her left arm was in a sling. Around the woman’s wrists were further bruises and chafing, like there had been restraints on them. On top of that, the woman had a black eye and it looked like maybe her nose had been broken and reset. The image was a Polaroid that had been taken, almost like it was documenting evidence of some kind.
“Damn,” Tabitha said. “Looks she and our girl got into a hell of a fight. Too much tequila or something? They run into each other at a bar after a match?”
“Even crazier,” Veronica said. “They’re ex-lovers. This is Amanda Frank, and she’s claiming that Kelly beat her up, while Kelly’s claiming literally everything they did was consensual.”
She stretched again and swiped to the next thing in the presentation, a short video file obviously captured from an internal home security camera. It showed the two women in bed, dressed in bras and panties each, locked in an intense kiss, their hands all over one another. The kiss broke, and Kelly spoke first, her voice sort of low and husky. “You’ve been a bad little bitch, haven’t you, Amanda?”
“Mmmm… sooooo bad,” Amanda teasingly whined back. “I need to be punished.”
The video file stopped at that point, as Veronica picked up her coffee, taking another sip from it. “There’s more, of course, lots of rough, nasty, violent sex, including Kelly basically hogtying Amanda there for a some of it, during which she apparently dislocated Amanda’s arm.”
“I mean, she had to have said stop at some point, didn’t she?” Tabitha asked her.
“She did, but Kelly’s claiming she never used their safeword, because all the ‘no no no’ was part of their particular game, and that Kelly had loads of other recordings not far from this one, where Amanda was asking for more, to be used harder,” Veronica said. “Amanda and her attorney were going to try and extort Kelly for money over all of this, so Kelly turned to AOA to make the problem go away, at the recommendation of one of her coaches.”
“AOA’s got a relationship with soccer coaches?” Tabitha asked.
“AOA’s got a relationship with everybody, Mistress,” Veronica laughed. “I’m the only demon of the partners, but the others are capable of far more deviltry than I am.”
“So how’d you make it go away?”
“Some cash did exchange hands, but we got Amanda to sign a full waiver, releasing Kelly from liability from any of their past sexual encounters together, and she had to sign and non-disclosure agreement, preventing her from saying anything about their relationship to anyone in the media, or she’ll be in breach of contract and owe, well, every bit of money she’ll ever see for the rest of her life, and more,” Veronica said, grabbing the tablet, closing the presentation. “Her children and her children’s children would be in debt to Kelly if she ever breathed a word about it. We’re supposed to have destroyed all the evidence, but I kept a copy myself, as I suspected it might be useful for you, knowing as I did that you were coming of age, and that Kelly’s a nephilim.”
“And you’re sure of that?”
“Well, let’s watch together and find out,” Veronica said, moving to grab the tablet once more, this time just opening up the YouTube app, typing in “Kelly Simone golden goal” into the search menu, with immediately half a dozen results popping up, all from an exhibition match last year, the New York City Football Club against the Flamengo Womens Club from Brazil.
Before the video even started playing, Veronica noticed the video had close to 200k likes, meaning the clip had gotten more than its share of attention in the six months since it was posted. Veronica didn’t know all that much about soccer, but it seemed like it was overtime. She watched as the ball was knocked away from the goal and back towards what the announcer was calling the strikers, dangerously high and threatening to sail over their heads when Kelly leaped into the air, snapping her leg out at just the right moment to completely redirect the ball back towards the goal with enough force and speed that the goalie didn’t have even a chance to adjust momentum, much less block the shot. But as impressive as the high kick shot was, that wasn’t what Tabitha had been focused on.
As promised, even in the footage, she could see how Kelly’s eyes turned into glowing sphere of golden light right before she landed that almost impossibly high kick to score the winning goal in overtime. Tabitha even scrolled back the video to freeze on a frame, and it was uncanny how much light seemed to be emanating from Kelly’s eyes, something that she felt seemed impossible to miss, but as she scrolled down, there weren’t any comments about it anywhere, and the announcer’s voice, very much caught up in the energy of the moment, made no mention of the two almost headlight strength beams of light shooting from Kelly’s eyes like cartoon lasers, although it was only for a moment, and when they cut back to Kelly and her teammates cheering, her eyes were normal once more.
“Nephilim are wild,” Tabitha muttered to herself. “So this is my first target? You’re certain? I shouldn’t try one of the others instead?”
Veronica smiled and shrugged. “I’ve only got your best interests at heart, Mistress. If you don’t trust me, you can look through the rest of my files and see if there’s someone else instead you think would make a better candidate, but I strongly think the first two should be of my choosing, simply so you’re scaling up in difficulty as you move along, after you’re warmed up. No need to start with Everest as your first mountain to climb, when there are perfectly acceptable hills in our own backyard. Besides, there’s an excellent window of opportunity with Kelly that seemed too perfect to pass up.”
“Oh yeah?” Tabitha asked. “And what’s that?”
“They’re having a party tonight to celebrate Kelly’s signing with Nike in terms of endorsements. The company’s going to make a big deal about it, and they’ve rented out a ballroom, invited the press and it should be quite the party. Naturally, I’ve acquired us invites to the event, and it should be nice chance for you to see some of the larger supernatural community, and let them see you out and about, so they know you’re not afraid of them.”
“Should I be afraid of them?”
“You should be at least a little respectful, but afraid? I think that’s a bit big of an ask, especially for Lucifer’s daughter,” Veronica answered. “But you might be surprised just how many things you’ve never seen that have been just around the corner.”
The afternoon was spent getting Tabitha a new collection of outfits, as Veronica insisted that nothing in Tabitha’s existing collection of clothes was suitable for the night, or so Veronica insisted. They were of similar statures and builds, but Veronica was a few inches taller and because of that, Tabitha needed to stock the closet.
They spent time at all sorts of boutiques, and Veronica insisted that money was no object, and that if Tabitha saw anything she wanted, she should just add it to the collection. Tabitha followed the instruction to the letter, and estimated that she’d spent the price of a rather respectable Italian sports car for just clothes.
It didn’t even include the amount she spent on shoes, but then again, shoes deserved their own category of spending. Shoes were more important than anyone could ever understand.
From all the outfits they bought for the day, they picked a nice skirt and blouse combo that offered daring lines and clingy bulges, something that gave Tabitha a sleek look that felt modern and business but also still edgy and sexy. Veronica insisted it wouldn’t be too much or too little for the event, and Tabitha had to trust her judgment on the matter. After the shopping spree, the next stop had been to a spa to relax for a few hours over lunch. At one point, Tabitha asked if they should be swinging by the AOA offices, and Veronica had responded that they only needed to put in time at the office when they wanted to. The last stop was to Veronica’s personal stylist, to get Tabitha’s hair touched up, and her make-up done, to complete the new look with a few final twists.
None of the changes individually they’d made over the course of the day had been large, but each of them had added up a bit at a time, and piece by piece, Tabitha felt like a new woman was emerging, a stronger, more confident woman, the kind who wasn’t afraid to grind the heel of her brand new five thousand dollar Prada shoes down on the back of someone’s neck if they were being a bitch. As she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing who she was now, she felt a sense of pride and determination over the upcoming contest.
She’d been wearing a style before, but now, she was inhabiting it. There was no room for self-doubt in her new life, no space to let uncertainty creep in through the cracks around the edges. It was all or nothing, and nothing wasn’t something Tabitha ever wanted to hear again.
From the stylist, they headed straight to the party, and it was being held in a ballroom that looked large enough to fit small armies in. Instead, however, there were only a few hundred people milling about. It was easy to distinguish between three separate types of people in attendance.
The first group was the reporters. They stood out like a sore thumb because none of them had gone the extra mile to look impressive, dressed in passable clothes but nothing that anyone would call fashionable, even on the best of days. There were more of them there than expected, but Veronica had said that the prestige name of Nike associated with the announcement added an extra layer of allure.
The second group were the celebrities. They were the ones dressed to the nines, in the latest of fashions with only the next-next-next-gen technology toys. There were also more of them than Tabitha had expected, but Veronica said that sometimes press announcements like this could draw fame seekers out of the woodwork, people attempting to recapture lightning in a bottle or to ween off the residual spark of others, just to get another go around. But with them also came the celebrities whose stars were on the rise, the up-and-comers who were just about to be on top of the world, giving people one last chance to catch them on the way up. The problem was telling the two apart could almost be impossible.
The last group were the suits, the people whose money it was being spent on the announcement and the event, who wanted to be sure that they were getting what they wanted out of it – exposure for their brand, their celebrity, their current project, their next project, whatever it was they were expected to be sell, sell, selling.
But after she’d clocked most of them, she started to notice a fourth group – the outliers. The people who didn’t seem to fit into any of the three categories, and that she didn’t know quite what to make of. The security staff had checked their invites at the entrance, but now that they were inside, Tabitha and Veronica had nothing but blue skies of opportunity before them.
“How many non-human people are here right now?” Tabitha whispered to Veronica.
The demoness glanced around the room, quickly taking stock. “Well, there’s our target, the angel Sandy’s over there…”
“There’s an angel named Sandy?”
“It’s short for Sandalphon,” Veronica told her. “There’s a small contingency of the Forgotten Gods over there, including Shango and Zhurong, whom you’ve already met. Haagenti’s over there, and she’s a demoness, so I guess you could call us coworkers, although she’s generally been in alliance with one of the other Dukes and Duchesses of Hell, so we don’t always get along. Oh! The Ostrogoth’s here,” Veronica said with a sly smile. “You simply have to meet him. He’s a charming old bastard. You’ll get along famously.”
Veronica led her across the room where an extremely tall blonde Germanic looking man was holding court with three gorgeous women, each of whom seemed to be perched on his every word. The man had a very rugged and chiseled look to him, like the sort of gladiators of old, with a handsome face, even though Tabitha didn’t swing that way. He had a short beard, only an inch or so in length, and his nose looked like it had probably been broken once or twice before, although it only gave him character. He seemed like the sort of big, brawny man who should be driving a truck and swinging a sledgehammer, although he was wearing a t-shirt for what Tabitha would’ve guessed was a band called Beyond The Black, a thin leather jacket draped over it, and jeans that she almost thought were painted on. He had a glass full of whiskey in one hand, using the other to gesture while he talked, seeming to reach the apex of some humorous story just as Tabitha and Veronica arrived. His blonde hair was curly but still mostly short, and when the women broke out into laughter, he turned to one side, catching Veronica’s eye, shooting her a wink. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, his voice with just a touch of a German accent undercutting it. “But an old friend of mine has come to see me, so you must excuse me, but I insist I will return to you with post haste once our conversation has concluded. Don’t leave, otherwise I shall take great personal offense to it.” He stood up, and when he did, he seemed even more like a mountain than he had previously, towering over Tabitha by a good foot, but he moved over to bend down and offer a hug to Veronica first. “Ver, dear, how’ve you been?” he said with a laugh, starting to walk them away from the trio of high society women.
“Still up to your old games I see, Kai,” Veronica said to him. “Haven’t decided which of the three you’re going to bleed dry?”
The massive man laughed, offering a polite shrug. “You know me, Ver. I always say ‘why choose when you don’t have to.’ It’s served me well thus far.”
As the two talked, Tabitha let her eyes relax a little bit and could start to see Veronica’s conversation partner for what he was – his skin, which had looked impeccable and immaculate when they’d approached him, was actually covered in a seemingly endless number of scars, ranging from relatively fresh to practically ancient. She could also see that he had a sword hilt resting in what looked like Velcro hangings attached to his back – no blade, just the grip, pommel and guard. In lieu of eyes, she could see gemstones, a deep red shade, with many facets, a soft light throbbing from them.
“Kai, let me introduce you to Lucifer’s newest daughter, Tabitha St. Cloud,” Veronica said, making the introduction. “She’s just beginning her challenging ritual. Tabitha, this is Kai Mitternachtsblitz, more commonly known as The Ostrogoth, the oldest and most successful living duelist the planet’s ever seen.”
“How successful, if I might ask?” Tabitha said, as Kai took her hand and brought it up to his lips, bowing his head down a little as he did.
“Over twelve-thousand kills over the past three thousand years or so, since I began.”
“Or so?” Tabitha asked with a soft laugh.
Kai shrugged, his massive shoulders shrugging like an avalanche. “After the first thousand or so, you decide to stop counting. The number of years itself isn’t important.”
“But you still count the number of duels you’ve won?”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “That number is important.” He glanced over at Veronica with a frown. “Don’t look now, but I think the wet blanket is coming our way.”
“Now Kai,” Veronica scolded. “Be nice to the enemy.”
Tabitha’s eyes flickered over and saw the woman that Tabitha had named Sandalphon approaching them. She appeared to be Chinese, although she was dressed in a rather formal looking tuxedo, something that seemed about fifty years out of date, like she had just walked out of the filming of the most recent adaptation of The Great Gatsby. Her dark hair hung down over her shoulders, black at the roots but slowly dissolving into brown locks.
“Everyone’s the enemy to The Ostrogoth,” Sandalphon said to Veronica with a smile that held absolutely no friendliness to it. “That doesn’t mean he isn’t the kind of soul to be rude about it. Fighting alone must certainly get tiring, Kai. Why haven’t you picked a side yet?”
“Because I only fight winning battles, Sandy,” Kai replied to her, his gemstone eyes having to tilt far down to match hers, nearly two feet of height between them. “And it’s still too early to call it in your squabble, if there even will be a winner.”
“The righteous will always win out in the end,” Sandy said with a sniff, before turning to glance over at Tabitha. “You’re Lucifer’s most recent spawn, are you?”
Tabitha extended her hand, but the angel just seemed to look at it. “Tabitha St. Cloud.”
“A devil with a saint in her name,” Sandy said sardonically. “How droll.”
Tabitha pulled her hand back in. “Yes, well, my cause is righteous, to me anyway. I’m fighting for the right to survive.”
“Aren’t we all, darling?” Sandy replied, extending Tabitha the courtesy of a short smile. “Veronica, if I might have a few minutes of your time? I need to go over a few of the rules with you, to make sure that both sides are playing fair in this little challenge.”
“I didn’t think the angels had a stake in the matter,” Veronica replied.
“The angels have a stake in everything.”
“Alright then,” Veronica said. “Mistress, Kelly should be here soon, but I advise you wait until I return before you make contact, yes?”
“Hurry back, Veronica,” Tabitha replied. “My patience has limits.”
“Yes Mistress, of course.” The angel and the demoness walked off together, talking low and quiet, although the tone insisted they were hammering out some details neither was happy with, leaving her alone with Kai.
“So how much trouble am I in, Kai?” Tabitha asked him, grabbing a flute of wine from a waitress walking by.
“The same as any of the rest of us, demon princess,” the Ostrogoth chuckled. “More than we would like but never as much as we deserve.” He grabbed a deviled egg off of a different tray from a waiter strolling by. The waiter looked like he couldn’t decide if he should stop, scurry away or just offer the bulky man the entire tray. He finally selected the middle option. “You’re here nephilim hunting, aren’t you?” he asked her. “Looks like your prey has arrived.”
At the stage, the music was dying down, and someone was tapping a microphone, clearly having been talking for a few minutes, but now they had turned the volume up for the main event. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the woman at the podium said, “I give you Nike’s newest spokeswoman, Kelly Simone!”
The room erupted into applause, and Tabitha laid her eyes upon her next meal for the first time.
THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR