Page 19 of The Fallen
He pauses. Rubs his cleft chin. “That should be enough. See to it that the boys get their exercise. Maybe wreak a little havoc while you’re at it. Have fun with it. Gamble, drink, be merry.”
It all seems a little too simple, too easy, and I certainly wouldn’t put it past the Dark Lord to have something up his sleeve here. Still, a vacation is a vacation, and watching the two hellhounds is a small price to pay for a week of freedom.
The hounds’ chains morph into leather leashes, and the Dark Lord hands me the looped ends. “They are now your responsibility.”
I expect the hounds to shapeshift as well, to take on more mortal canine forms, but they remain as hellish as ever. That could be problematic on Earth, where humans are unaccustomed to hounds with glowing eyes. I mention as much to the Dark Lord, but he waves it off.
“Humans are stupid. They will see what they wish to see. Besides, these hounds have … limited shifting abilities. They cannot take on the form of a mortal dog.”
Interesting. Most demons and hellkin are capable of transforming to blend in with mortals, as I have. Once again I place my trust in the Dark Lord for this. It’s been literal ages since I last walked among humans; it’s entirely possible that they have lost their ability to recognize a demonic beast for what it is.
With my orders received and the hounds in my care, I expend a bit of demonic energy to portal to Vegas. We materialize in the most sin-laden place in the whole city …
… A wedding chapel?
The drunk couple at the altar turns to stare blankly at us, but they only give us a moment’s attention before returning to the costumed officiant presiding over their nuptials.
I suppose it makes sense in a way. What greater sin is there than violating the sanctity of marriage like this? It fits with the Dark Lord’s wicked sense of humor, and I imagine no small number of sins have their start in false chapels such as this one. I wonder if the officiant—dressed like a horror show reject—is even religious in the slightest. Probably an atheist. Agnostic at best.
I’d apologize for interrupting, but the couple is already pawing at each other again, our appearance forgotten in their lust.
Mordac and Tyrac sniff curiously at the scene, and before I can stop them, they each mount a leg and start humping the horny couple. A forceful tug on their leashes redirects them to follow me into the hot Vegas night. My knowledge of the city’s geography is hazy, but it seems that we’ve apparated in the general vicinity of this Strip the Dark Lord spoke of. A few blocks down the congested street I see the neon sign for The Sinner’s Delight, complete with red flashing devil horns above the letters.
“Come, you two. We should check in at this hotel and get settled. I have millennia of human customs and vernacular to catch up on, and I’d like to rest a while before we get started.”
The two hounds whine in complaint, but they follow obediently enough. I vow to use the plastic card the Dark Lord gave me to get them something to eat once we’re settled. I may be out of touch with humanity in recent centuries, but I know that hotels in this city cater to their residents’ every need. Solong as the guests emerge from their rooms long enough to gamble and spend, any comfort they desire can be delivered directly to them. Food, clothing, liquor—whatever I want or need.
As we make our way to the hotel, a few humans take notice of the hounds. They point and whisper, and one mother covers her children’s eyes as she directs them to the other side of the walkway. A drunkard shrieks and runs away, but beyond that, it seems the hounds’ appearance doesn’t draw as much attention as I had thought it would.
Some of the humans—the males in particular—catch my eye, and I vow to venture out later, without the hounds. Perhaps I can find some humans to have some fun with while I’m Earthside. The Dark Lord didn’t specifically forbid interactions with the humans, and what better havoc to wreak than to corrupt some unsuspecting males while having a good time of it? My bed in Hell has been empty for far too long, and Vegas is the perfect city in which to prowl for a convenient and willing mate … or mates.
I recognize the concierge at The Sinner’s Delight as a fellow demon, making the check-in process a breeze. I don’t have to pretend with him, and he even hands me a custom menu for the hounds. I order them some braised sinner delivered to the room, complete with unholy water to drink, but I opt for some human fare for myself. I’ve always been curious about burgers and fries. They’re popular among mortals of this era, and I want to try some.
I also place an order for later, after midnight, a special delivery of human supplicants to the room for my personal enjoyment.
In our room, I settle on the king-sized bed with my food and flip through the channels on the television as I eat, trying to absorb as much vocabulary as possible. Human language is always changing, and if I don’t learn the right words andphrases, I’ll risk exposure. Stick out too much, and they call the priests on you. My last exorcism was in the pre-Christian days, but the rabbi was proficient enough to send me back to Hell in the most painful manner possible, and I’d rather avoid that again.
While perusing the channels, I find something the humans call “premium.” A few button clicks later, and suddenly my clothing seems a tad … restrictive. I strip out of my leather garb as I watch the humans fuck onscreen and allow myself the luxury of tending to my more carnal desires. The hounds watch from the foot of the bed, tails wagging. I dip my fingers between my legs and work myself into a most satisfying orgasm before relaxing and drifting into a light doze.
After all, what can go wrong?
CHAPTER 2
MORDAC
Imeet Tyrac’s eyes as soon as Nyx is asleep, and his jaws gape in a canine grin, tongue lolling out as he pants with glee.
Our keeper has already let her guard down. Normally, our sitter wouldn’t be so careless as to succumb to a simple sleeping spell, but it seems the Dark Lord has sent us with a demoness who is inexperienced with our tricks.
Rather than speak aloud and risk waking her, I communicate directly with Tyrac’s mind. As twins, we’ve always had that ability, and it’s one that has served us well throughout history. Dear, sweet, oblivious Nyx is not the first sitter we’ve had in our millennia of life, and we’re sure she won’t be the last. While she slumbers, we’ll plot our escape and have some fun.
What shall we do first, brother? Terrorize some tourists, or perhaps we should visit one of the brothels in town.
Tyrac pants out a rough chuckle.Your information is dated, brother. Brothels are not currently legal in this part of the state.Still, we should be able to find plenty of willing participants in our other forms.
I break out in a grin of my own.Shall we ditch these foolish collars, then?
Perhaps just the leashes …
