Elliott Kay - Good Intentions

“My hand, mort…mas…no,” the woman groaned. Apparently breathing fire had taken the last of her strength. She couldn’t twist enough to reach her chained wrist with her free hand. Alex reached over her naked chest and fought to unlatch the iron around her wrists.

“I’ll get you out, you’re gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay” Alex said in a rush, trying to convince himself as much as her. With her hand freed, he pulled her upright, holding her to him and moving away from the altar. He turned straight around to see Troy and Harold on their feet, staggered but recovered enough to fight. “Oh, shit,” Alex gulped, seeing the bloody, wavy dagger in Troy’s hand.

“You’ve done your part,” the blonde said. She rose with one hand stretched toward the ceiling. A long stream of fire extended from her palm, and as she lowered it to her side it formed a sword of flame.

Alex, Harold and Troy all had a moment to be stunned.

The woman in Alex’s arms just grunted. “Showoff,” she muttered.

“This desecration of the Lord’s house will not stand,” the blonde said gravely. She swung her sword wide, cutting through both Harold and Troy and igniting their bodies as if they were dressed in flash paper.

“Jesus Christ!” Alex blurted.

“Don’t blaspheme,” the blonde replied absently, looking around the room. “I can walk on my own. Take her and go.”

“Right,” Alex said, not wanting to argue with anyone holding a flaming sword. He hauled the dark-haired woman out to the foyer, having just enough presence of mind to grab his backpack. Behind him, he heard the screams of burning men and the roar of an inferno coming to life.

“Why don’t they come up here and arrest us?” Alex asked. He stood with the two women by a statue of an angel on a small rise away from the chapel. Blood from the goblet still covered his face. Firefighters worked to dampen the flames of the chapel while police began scouring the area. The three of them stood in darkness, but many flashing lights passed over them.

Both women answered at once. “That’s me,” the blonde replied, while the dark-haired one said, “I am concealing us.” They stopped, looked at each other sharply, and then turned away.

Given a moment to get his bearings, Alex realized that underneath all the blood and bruises, both women were shockingly beautiful. The blonde already showed signs of recovery. She pulled the tattered remains of her dress up off her hips to cover her chest. Alex thought she seemed about his age. The other, perhaps a decade older, mostly looked away from the other two.

“So they don’t see or hear us here?”

“No,” the blonde answered.

“Huh. …’kay… I can’t believe you’re both standing after all that.”

“I’m getting better,” the blonde answered.

“I’ll manage,” the other shrugged.

“How did you find us?” the blonde asked. “Did you know about this? Did you receive some revelation?”

“I just snuck onto the property to take some pictures. Then I heard the screaming. Turned out the front door wasn’t locked. I had no idea what I’d find here.”

She smiled a bit. “Mysterious ways,” she said.

“Bugger your patriarchal sky god,” the other woman grimaced.

Alex hesitated. Every word seemed to make this even more awkward, but just standing there didn’t seem to be all that slick, either. “Are you cold?” he asked the dark-haired woman. “You could have my sweatshirt at least…”

She looked at him blankly.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help. This is all so crazy. Who the hell are you two, anyway?”

“Interesting choice of words,” the blonde said. The other woman spat blood onto the ground.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered.

“I guess there’s no harm in telling at this point. You can call me Rachel,” the blonde began. “I am an angel of the Third Host, charged with…nevermind. Probably means fuck-all to you. I’m an angel, and that’s all you need to know. This one,” she said, gesturing at the other woman, “is… well, why don’t you tell us?”

“Bitch,” the other grunted bitterly.

“I’m sure we could call you something fouler,” Rachel smirked.

“Woah, hey, how about we not fight?” Alex moved between them and held his hands up peaceably. “Look, I’m Alex, okay? You’re Rachel, okay, cool, and what’s your name?”

“Call me Lorelei, ma-” she stopped herself.

Startled by the name, Rachel’s posture stiffened and she stepped back. She quickly swallowed and regained her composure before either of the others noticed. “That first name might fit wonderfully, then,” she commented.

“Look, ladies, can we please cool it? Jeez, you’re like cats and dogs or something.”

Rachel looked at him evenly, and then the implication clicked in Alex’s head. He looked at Lorelei with wide eyes. “But… aren’t you supposed to have, like, wings?”

“They cut off our wings after we were summoned by their sorcery,” Rachel explained, “and her little horns and tail. They burned it all to power their ritual. That’s how they got that big pile of ashes. Magic often works in symbolism, and I suppose those features symbolize power. They wanted to weaken us.

“Lorelei is a succubus,” Rachel continued with a hint of venom. “Do you know what that is?”

He knew only what he had picked up from the rulebooks for Jason’s role-playing games. “Isn’t that like a hottie girl demon?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yes. A hottie girl demon. The succubae seduce men on Earth to sate their immortal lusts. Their victims give their all until they are shriveled husks, abandoning life and everything of importance to fuck the evil little trollops. Men fornicate with them to their literal deaths.”

“Holy shit, is she serious?”

Lorelei only reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Alex’s gaze. “She greatly simplifies,” she said quietly. “You have nothing to fear from me, mast-” Again, she cut herself off. Rachel looked on with newly aroused interest.

“So you steal souls?”

Rachel giggled while Lorelei shook her head. “It’s not like that,” Lorelei said simply. “I can…tell you later.”

“Yes, I’ll just bet you can, Lorelei,” Rachel said.

“What’s so funny about this?” Alex asked.

“Oh, I think Lorelei here was affected by this insanity much more than I. Do you remember what the fallen priest was saying?”

“Bite your tongue, angel!” Lorelei snapped.

“I was kinda busy trying to rescue you two and not freak the hell out at the same time. I’m just a college student.”

Rachel considered her words. “I’m probably not supposed to tell you all this, but fuck it.” She leaned back, casually putting her butt against a headstone. Alex blinked at the angel’s language, but she didn’t notice. “Those men were trying to use sorcery to enslave us both. Well, the priest was, anyway. The others were just his goons. One of them must’ve been the genius that left the door unlocked. Thankfully.

“They summoned and imprisoned us through ritual magic. They tortured us to keep us weak. The chains, the whip, cutting off our wings. All that fucked-up shit. And then, with that goblet as a tool, the priest drew out part of our essences. My purest good, her foulest evil, like he said.”

Alex’s jaw dropped. He touched his stained cheek. “You mean that’s what’s all over my face? Is that gonna do something to me?”

“It already has, to all three of us,” said Rachel, with a hint of amusement. “Though Lorelei here obviously got the worst of it. He worked harder on her. Neither of us can hurt you nor lie to you now. And again, Lorelei’s just not as evil as she was. We’ll have to wait and see how much difference that makes. And I,” she said, a bit sadly, “am something less now than I was… though the Hosts may be able to remedy that later.”