Adults Only

RBVS - Book One

What the Seven Thunders Said (Lazarus)

=-=-=-=-=-=Chapter Six=-=-=-=-=-=

It's dark but for the bare fluorescent bulb in the bathroom, and an odd, sort of pinkish glow coming from the neon outside. It spills like a stain from the bottom of the cheap drapes and I'd lifted my feet away from it. I sit there like that, naked with my knees to my breasts, my heels digging into the worn and itchy fabric of the chair, hugging myself with one hand raised to my mouth. I like to smoke while I watched.

It's what I'm into. The watching.

The girl is dead. I'm not sure when it happened, or even how it had happened precisely. There are so many ways a life can end. She had been alive when I fell asleep, I know that much. She'd been crying, I think, a sound well suited to lulling the human soul to rest. I'd cradled her, stealing her warmth, burying my face in the nape of her soft neck, feeling the small shivers and shudders. Oh yes, she was very much alive and now…She wasn't.

Like waking up from a dream.

I'd barely moved her and nothing of that was intentional. I awoke and stretched and kissed her left shoulder, even bit her perhaps in my dusky arousal. She'd made no sound, no movement, no sigh or whimper or yelp. It had been quiet and I'd taken a deep breath of her and now…Now I was sitting in the chair, looking at her lying there. It was exciting for me, much more so than anything we'd experienced the night and day before. That was foreplay and now this was the reality of our lovemaking. I smoke and watch and she stirs not at all.

I masturbate slowly, in my head while I drag that cigarette into my lungs. I don't need to touch myself, that part of me is incidental, unimportant. I come twice, or three times perhaps, and it's very good for me. I bite my knee the last time, drawing blood like a virgin, which is only my desperate sense of irony asserting itself, I assure you. This is not my first time.

Dead girl clothes. Dead girl shoes. Dead girl makeup and jewelry. I wear her like a trophy and there is a reason for this, beyond my desire to remember her for so long as possible. I like her clothes. A one piece dress, all red with black around the hem, very short and open. Nothing to hide, everything's for sale. Women's fashions are useless and redundant and every time I dress I hate my gender. The only thing that makes it tolerable is where it comes from, where it's been; what it means. I like her clothes. Taking something off the rack, hmmm…Where's the dignity in that? I've stolen clothes from a Laundromat just because the woman washing them was interesting. Getting them stained and smelling of her though, that's much better.

It's a greasy motel in the Village, if even a motel at all. Rooms by the hour, fresh linen, hot water! I pass the signs and the old clerk, lost behind his newspaper. I hate this place, and love it. The city, New York, like the center of the universe and so remote that no one else cares. Only the people living here are proud of it, a fact that always amazes me for some reason. It's the same everywhere.

Uziel. I need her right now. I have to tell her what I've done. That was her friend upstairs, Uzi's lover, not mine, not until the end. I've done everything for my angel, for my love, and I want to show her. Prove to her how silly it is to choose a mortal for a lover. They don't last, they never do. The flesh is weak and easily broken. Not like us…Not like us.

"Hey!" A voice is calling me, lazy and laughing from the fire escape. "Laz, where you going?"

I stop on the street, busy this time of night, with people buying and selling, looking for what they lack.

"The club." I look up at her, watching the girl spider down the rickety iron, creaking and rattling.

I can see up her skirt, flashes of her pale thighs and milky underwear, but only briefly as a taxi rounds a corner, the headlights askew and catching her just right, just for a second, and then it's dark.

"You fixed?" She hangs by her arms, stretching her body with her toes a foot off the concrete. "I need some."

"Heather." I say, because her name just occurred to me. "I'll fix you."

"Fuck you're beautiful." She laughs and drops to the sidewalk and I realize she's barefoot. "Love the ring."

I forgot about that. A gold ring through my bottom lip, just at the corner of my mouth, and I tongue it. I can't remember when or where I got it.

"Where's your shoes?" I put my arm around her, because I hate being alone and she's small and soft and cute like you wouldn't believe. Strawberry blonde and dimples and big blue eyes so dilated you'd never know.

"I dunno." Heather laughs, leaning against me and she's drunk, but she needs more than that. "Buy me some shoes, Laz."

We walk down the street like that, arms around each other, looking like two girls hungry for trouble.

"Heather." A woman says, or a man in drag, it's hard to tell and I don't care.

It's a fixer in a trench coat, loose and draped over his shoulders. Inside I see leather and lace and all black steel. She's strapped with a gauge and I smile at that.

"A dime?" Heather's looking up at me, her fingers digging into my hip.

"Live it up." I giggle, grabbing Heather by the hair and kissing her hard, forcing my tongue into her dry mouth just to see what the fag's gonna do.

"I know you." He tilts her head, biting its lip.

"A dime." I breathe, looking at the fixer and nodding while Heather kisses my t-shirt between my tits, thanking me.

"You're that whack fuck that can't be killed, huh?"

"I got killed once." I shrug. "It's underrated. You got dope or what?"

"I got it." She pulls his hand out of it's pocket, a little plastic all tied up sitting on her palm and Heather snatches it quick.

I pull out dead woman's money, slapping the bills in the guy's hand. Everybody knows me and I don't know anyone, but that's how it is sometimes. Heather's digging for her rig, needing it so bad she's shaking with excitement and I reach under her skirt, finding the leather pouch strapped round her soft thigh.

We sit in the alley, across from a sleeping bum, half dead and stinking, cooking up Heather's fix and it's viper milk when I push that stuff in her arm, thin and soft and bruised like pale fruit. When I let her go Heather is smiling and far away, leaning back to squeeze her tits, spreading her legs and giggling silently. Not a fucking sound, just her tongue moving between her open lips and I wonder what that's like.

I dig a smoke out of my new purse, dead girl's purse, and I light it slow, burning it hot and long. I look through that purse some more, killing time while Heather fucks herself beside me. I find some lipstick and I uncap it, holding my smoke in my smile, grabbing Heather's chin in my hand.

"Look at me, slut." I paint her mouth red, taking my time while she stares six inches past my eyes, unfocused and rubbing her cunt.

I fix her eyes too, just cause I never play dress up anymore, not like this. I do her pretty, neat and nice, so she looks like a whore and I lean back, nodding my head and licking my ring.

"Better." I decide and then I remember Uzi, as if I'd ever forgotten. "Come on, we gotta go."

I pull Heather to her feet and I hear someone giggling, a couple someones, real whores standing there at the mouth of the alley.

"You need a real date, sugar?" One of them asks me and she looks about the same size as Heather. She's got dark skin, Hispanic maybe, or half black. It doesn't matter, she's got nice feet. Nice shoes.

"Yeah." I let Heather go, so she can fall back on her ass with a laugh. She's coming around finally and I toss my smoke.

There's two of them, the other one big and black and poured into some too small leotard, so her fat ass hangs out the back. I ignore her and punch the Hispanic bitch in the face hard.

"Stay down." I kick her in the stomach as she tries to get up.

"Cunt!" The big one says, but she's leaving. They aren't really friends at all maybe.

I take off the whore's shoes, ruby red slippers cause there's no place like home. All the pros have a pair of those, ruby red to cover their toes…As everyone knows. I'm laughing at that, just because it felt good to hit a woman in the mouth and I think maybe I should remember that just so I have something to write on a bathroom wall sometime.

"I've never been known for my clever prose…" I'm laughing and the whore is groaning and the bum is snoring and Heather is giggling.

"What?" She looks up at me and I drop the shoes between her spread thighs.

"I bought you some new shoes." I say.

"Take me dancing." She smiles. "I want to sleep."

"Later." I lick my lips. "I want a drink."

"Goody." Heather giggles more, fumbling her feet into her new shoes.

We hit Smithee's first, just because it's close and I'm drinking vodka. Lots of vodka, watching the dykes hit on Heather and she takes it like a lady. Bent over the pinball machine, banging it with her fists as it rings and clangs and buzzes beneath her. And all the while she's being fucked with some bull's fingers up her twat and it's cute. She's cute.

"Seen Uziel?" I ask the bartender, a thin girl named Sarah Nobody. "She been here?"

I suck down another shot, tapping the bar impatiently and it burns nice.

"Don't know her." The blonde shrugs, grabbing a bottle and pouring.

"She's an angel." I smile, feeling my head swimming now. I need that so bad.

"Uh-huh." Sarah nods.

"No belly button." I scratch myself, rubbing my ring. "That's how you can tell."

"Sure." She nods seriously, leaning on spread hands. "What's your name?"

"You see an angel, you ask to see her belly button…What?" I blink at her. "Lazarus."

"Really?" She laughs at that. "Like in the bible?"

"No." I shake my head, picking up my seventh shot in thirty minutes. "From the bible." I grin and wiggle my eyebrows and down the Stoli hard.

"I get off in about an hour." She picks up my glass, taking it from my fingers so she has an excuse to touch me. "I have a room upstairs."

I look over at Heather and she's on her knees, licking pussy now. A lesbian circle jerk, four of them standing around her with their pants undone. It's fucking ludicrous.

"It'll hurt." I tell her. "Where's the bottle?"

"I don't mind." She's so old too, in her eyes. An old woman trapped in her little girl body.

"Poor Sarah." I sigh and smile at the bottle in her hand. "Pour Sarah."

A baker's dozen and I'm ready. I pull out some plastic, a dead girl's credit card, and toss it on the bar.

"This says Victoria Taylor on it." Sarah yells at me.

"Keep it." I wave over my shoulder at her, looking at the dykes playing with my Heather like she was a dog.

"Come on." I squeeze between two of them, grabbing Heather by the wrist. She's wet from her eyebrows down to her tits, all stinking of girl juice and booze. They'd been fixing her with gin and cunt.

"Hey, what the fuck?" One of the girls says, and the others are looking at me. Some smiles, some frowns. A soft laugh maybe, it's all happening at once because I'm taking their toy away.

"You had her." I tell them. "Now piss off."

"Maybe we'll have you too…" But the others aren't into it and they hold her back. Good thing too because I'm drunk now, feeling good finally and I don't want to kill anybody. Not tonight. Not again.

"We need sugar." I grin, dragging Heather behind me and she's drunk too. "And cigarettes." I say a minute later, crumpling the empty pack and tossing it in the gutter.

"Take me dancing, Laz…Please?" Heather is clinging to me, smelling like Beefeaters and pussy and it's making me hungry for her.

"Shut-up." I wipe my face on her hair, feeling hot despite the cool night around us.

We go into a Seven-Eleven, green and orange and so bright I want to scream.

"Get something." I push Heather away from me and I stand at the counter, looking around, blinking under the harsh fluorescent glow.

"Shit." The girl behind the counter looks at me. "You're fucked up."

"Some camels." I nod vaguely towards the cartoon sign behind her.

"You don't remember me, huh?" She looks like anybody else, pissed a little, amused maybe. Nice tits and a big nose, but cute anyway.

"Did we fuck?" I ask her.

"Yeah." She nods. "Last week. You said you'd call."

"I lied." I shrug, not really understanding what the problem is.

"She's a liar." Heather giggles. "She was dead before too." She dumps six packages of Hostess Sno-Balls on the counter. "I love these."

"Get some more." I say.

"This is all they got." Heather looks at the girl. "You got more Sno-Balls?"

"Nope." She crosses her arms.

"Get those camels." I repeat myself. "And some…fuck, what do you got?" I look around. "That's it."

The girl laughs at me, tossing my cigarettes on the counter and ringing it all up. "I hope you get run over." She says, taking my money. "And die."

"Thanks. Me too." I say sincerely and Heather is already opening a package, stuffing her mouth with white coconut and brown cake and sugary cream filling that looks like cum.

"Psycho." The woman shoves the other five into a plastic bag and I'm opening my cigarettes.

"I guess I shoulda called her." I look at Heather and she laughs, her mouth open wide and filled with soggy chewed up Sno-Ball.

I kiss her then, in front of the big nosed bitch, stabbing my tongue in that messy mouth and digging some for myself. It's good, moist with Heather's saliva, and we sit outside on the curb eating all twelve of them like that. Sharing it between our open mouths while people walk past staring.

"Dancing?" Heather is asking me. "Please Laz? I'll dance you good, I'll fuck on the floor, baby…"

"Yeah yeah…Uzi too." I have my quest, to find Uziel and we're going to the one place an angel might actually be.

The Hypogeum.

=-=-=-=-=-=Chapter Seven=-=-=-=-=-=

There's a line, full of Goth's and punks and freaks. All of them beautiful, all of them desperate. Some of them want to die. Some just want to know the truth. Some of them…Who knows. They don't. We're underdressed, Heather and me, at least some of those people think so and I can hear their voices complaining.

"I'm on the list." I say to the doorman holding a clipboard. He's big and bald and brown with a gold ring through his nose. It reminds me of the one in my lip and I tongue it, wondering where it had come from. I couldn't remember.

"Yeah, no shit, Laz." He laughs at me.

"Aren't you gonna look?" I frown at him, feeling almost insulted because he won't.

"No." He nods and the other guy pushes the door open, leaning a little to hold it. "Watch your step, Laz."

"Fucking Jinn." I mutter and Heather laughs as we tumble slowly down the step stairs on the heels of our shoes.

There's a lot more like the genie downstairs, or not like him at all really. Angels and demons and hypocrites like me. Drinking and talking, making the deals that make the world work. This was the only safe place in New York, so long as you weren't human.

It's the Other World down there, the hidden place. I'll keep Heather close because I like her and some of the things down there would drink her dry, or eat her whole, or just fuck her to death because they could. It's a lot like Yankee Stadium during the Subway Series and that thought makes me smile.

"Over there…" I see someone I know, or I think I know, and she seems to know me. Two of them, sitting on a big curved couch, like a tête-à-tête made for couples.

She's a vampire, one look tells me that much, pale with thick black hair and evil eyes. She's sitting with her slave, a woman tall and blonde and entirely too beautiful for her own good. I want to eat her myself and I stare at the blonde, wondering where a thing like that would come from. She reminds me of Uziel, but this girl is altogether too human.

A waitress is there and I smile at the vampire, pulling Heather down to sit with me across from them.

"What are you drinking?" I ask and I can't leave that blonde alone. "Hungarian?" I lick my ring. "Never mind…Fuck it. Um…" I glance at the waitress. "White Russians, virgin Cossacks, about six of them…No, yeah…Six for me."

"What about me?" Heather is snuggling against me, petting my breast.

"And a pitcher of cream for my pussy." I giggle.

"Nice outfit." The vampire nods.

"Thanks. I got it off a dead girl." I drop my purse on the sofa. "That too."

"Whatever works, Laz." She smiles at me, playing with her minion.

I don't have any minions, just girls like Heather, so I feel a twinge of jealousy and I make Heather pay for it.

"This is Heather." I grab the girl's breast in my hand, squeezing it hard and pulling so Heather has to bend over slightly, groaning. "You want a taste?"

"I know you." Heather giggles, sitting back up. She's staring at the vampire. "Do you want to dance with me?"

The woman grins at that, flashing her fangs and shaking her head. "Dance with Eve."

The blonde gives her Mistress a look, but the vampire doesn't seem to notice. She just pushes the blonde away, telling her to dance with Heather.

"Yeah, go." I grin, letting go of Heather's tit. "Dance your ass off."

We watch our girls for a second, Heather happy and Eve somewhat less so.

"What's your name?" I ask, leaning forward a bit cause the music is loud and some people are quiet about names anyway.

"Keri." She shrugs, but she doesn't seem to take offence and I'm glad. My head is floating on a sea of vodka and I don't need a pissed off vampire.

"Right." I smile like the name means something, and maybe it would if I was sober. "Sorry about that…You seen Uzi? I'm looking for her."

"No." Keri shakes her head apologetically.

"I fucked up." I sigh, sucking at my gold ring, wondering if Uzi didn't give it to me. But I'd remember that. "She left me. Ahhh…"

I smile when I see the waitress there with my drinks, saving the vampire from having to give me sympathy. They suck at that sort of thing. I pick up a glass from the table between us, offering it briefly, but Keri is a vampire, the stuff is poison probably.

"I forgot, you can't have any." I giggle and she shrugs. "White Russians, quite revolting actually."

I drink it fast, dropping the glass and reaching for another. We watch Heather and Eve for a little bit, or Eve anyway, she's taller, enough so we can see her perfect head moving in the crowd. Heather is smaller and I can only catch a glimpse of her now and again.

"So, what are you doing here?" Keri asks me.

"Looking for Uziel." I have another drink. "Didn't I say that?"

"Yeah, Laz, you did." Keri nods and I know she's wondering, because I'm trouble and everyone knows it. The wildcard in the deck.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, just to be polite, really.

"Killing time." The vampire smiles and that's pretty funny coming from her. They aren't known for their rapier wit.

"Heh." I smile. "Kill some of mine too, while you're at it, eh?"

"You haven't seen Nicolai, by any chance, have you?" She asks me slowly, trying to be cool about it, but the eyes, the fingers moving, they give her away.

"Oh! Shit…Keri!" I nod suddenly, my buzzing brain remembering her finally. "Yeah, I saw him in fuck…Madrid? Or someplace…Anyway he said he was going to Moscow."

Nicolai is Keri's lover, her mate, as they like to call themselves. But he's not a good one, he's a wanderer, a nomad, and that's rare in a vampire. Mostly they're homebodies. They find a place and stay there, but not Nicolai. He's pretty fun to hang with, actually, and I'm always moving so we bump into each other a lot.

"And?" The vampire looks at me like she expects more.

"And what?" I laugh at her, downing another drink. "He said he was going home, that's all. There's no secret message, did you expect him to say he misses you? He loves you?"

She's flushing, that vampire, uncertain of herself suddenly and I know she's young. Too young to be mated with an old perverted bastard like Nicolai. Probably too innocent too, but maybe not. She looks cruel in the eyes.

"You're too young for him." I say, being sincere and hoping she'll understand that, but she doesn't.

"No, I'm not." She smiles, but her eyes are red.

"Youth isn't a question of years, you're either young or old right from the start." I tell her, thinking that sounded pretty deep even for a drunk like me. "And you're too young."

That's the problem with being 2000 years old, you pick up a lot of trivia along the way.

Heather is back, giggling and red faced from dancing and I grab her, needing her mouth. "Come here, drink some milk now, kitten."

The girl smiles petulantly, her eyes glazed.

"Down there, that's it…" I give Keri a grin as I push Heather between my thighs. "Kiss me there, do what you do, kitty."

Heather knows what I want and she doesn't mind at all, sinking to her knees, pushing my skirt up so she can pull my panty aside and suck my pussy. Across from us the vampire takes her own pleasure from Eve, biting the woman between her heaving breasts.

"Thirsty?" I smile down at Heather, who's working my clit nicely now.

I pick up the pitcher of cream, pouring it slowly onto my sex, watching Heather lap it from my skin and it feels good. So good like that, the cold fresh milk and the girl's hot tongue, digging it from my slit.

"If only Jesus could see me now." I giggle, licking my lips and feeling my cunt quiver. Heather really is very good at what she does and it's worth the money I spent on her dope.

"You have an admirer." I jerk my head and Keri, who's now drinking from a deep bite on Heather's perfect waist glances up to see a boy, a human.

"What?" Heather glances up at me, licking her lips and she's beautiful, covered with cream from her nose to her tits.

"Not you." I giggle, pushing her head back down. "Keep sucking my twat, twat."

Keri talks to the boy, he's got a night to live, 12 hours at the most, maybe a full day, but I doubt it. The vampire looks hungry to me. A few minutes of negotiation and they're ready to go home.

"Laz, we're going to go…If you see Nicolai…" Keri licks her ruby lips.

"Yeah, yeah…" I laugh at her, the silly girl. She acts tough, all up on herself, but she's just a kid. "Just tell Uzi I need her. Please? Tell her I'm sorry."

And it's my turn to be a fool, staring into the vampire's eyes until she turns away, frightened of time like everyone else I know. Except Uziel.

And she's nowhere to be seen.

"Come on." I say, lifting Heather from her knees, kissing her for a moment so I can taste cream and cunt on her pouting lips. "Let's get out of here. She ain't here."

"Can you fix me, Laz?" She asks softly, and she's slowed down, needing it.

"You're not broke." I laugh. But maybe she is, just like the rest of us and Heather leans on me, small and light and wet as we make our way outside.

"Lazarus!" A voice calls me and I blink, narrowing my eyes as eight inches of ancient bronze stab between my breasts. Blood sprays out of me, a fountain of it, and I feel that cold dull sensation all the way down. My heart stopped, the muscle ripped violently. It's a pain like nothing else, nothing you can imagine and I stare at it for a moment, licking my lips.

"Holy fuck!" Heather gasps and stares at me.

We're just leaving the club, stepping out into the predawn grey, and this has to spoil it. Fucking Jesuits. It hurts too, a lot. My heart is cloven, and that old knife is sticking out of me like a dick between my tits. That's what it looks like. I grab it, pulling it free with a heavy grunt.

The priest is speaking, praying in Latin, reciting an old incantation, but it isn't gonna do him any good. Blood is pouring out of me and my heart is stopped momentarily, but I don't even notice. I've suffered a lot worse than a knife to the heart and these holy fucks never learn.

"Hey." I say softly and the Jesuit looks up from his book, eyes wide and he's scared. "Tell the Cardinal he's on my list."

"Wha…What?" He's not too smart.

I always thought the Jesuits were overrated anyway though. I shove that knife into his belly deep, dragging it upward to disembowel him, his intestines falling out as I hold him there, the knife angled upward, just under the sternum.

Heather is watching me, a few other people, drunks and bums, maybe a whore, it doesn't matter. This priest is dead already, but he's still trying to understand why. I've seen that knife before; it's an Assyrian blade, supposedly one of the Daggers of Aunnas, a temple dedicated to Baal, and capable of killing an immortal. So long as the right words are spoken.

But there are no right words, as I might have told him. I'd been stabbed dozens of times, with everything from the spear of Longinus, to the bayonet of a Nazi bastard at Dachau. All it did was hurt. The Jesuits figure I'm the key to the Second Coming, and maybe I am, it would fit God's sense of irony. Kill me, complete the final miracle, and Jesus comes back, sure, why not? But after 2000 years of trying it didn't seem very likely anymore.

My heart is beating again by the time I let the priest go, dropping him on the sidewalk like a sack of old beef. He'd been one of Cardinal Beschi's young boys, fresh from the seminary, catholic suicide bombers is what I call them. They always do it like that, striking out of the shadows like cowards and I always leave them dead. It's a point of honor.

I'm getting real sick of that old bastard and soon I'm going to pay him a visit. I'd taken care of the Pope, all that was left was Beschi and his little gang of fanatic priests, hell bent on bringing about the end of the world. I'm all for it personally, life is getting pretty boring, but this two bit assassination shit is for the birds.

"Come on." I put my arm around Heather, leading her away before the cops get interested.

"You killed him." Heather is looking over her shoulder.

"He was already dead." I shrug.

"You're bleeding." She puts her hand to my body, feeling the blood soaked into my t-shirt, pushing her fingers through the ragged cut in the black cotton. I'm all healed underneath, all that remains is the blood and the memory.

"Not anymore." I smile. "Let's get you fixed."

"I love you, Laz." Heather sighs, but only because she really needs some heroine right then.

Nobody really loves me, except Uziel and she's pissed.

"Hey." I slide my hand down to Heather's ass, squeezing her though her damp skirt.

"Hmmm?" She looks up at me and smiles.

"How come angels don't have belly buttons?" I ask her and she stops then, holding me tightly so I have to stop too.

"How'd you know?" She's changing, beautiful giggling Heather becoming the immaculate and perfect Uziel before my very eyes.

"I didn't." I grin at her. "I was just telling a joke."

"Oh." Uzi looks like an angel, a fallen one with her long white air and jet black wings. Her eyes are molten gold and her skin glimmers like a pale jewel. My Uziel at last. All of 15 with small upturned breasts, rosy nipples and a sexy mouth between her thighs, pink and wet and hungry. And no belly button, just that soft smooth tummy and she's older than starlight.

"You were good." I smile, holding her close as we walk together, taking little steps and avoiding cracks in the sidewalk.

"Really?" Uzi giggles, folding her wings around us.

"You fooled me." I chuckle.

"You're getting old." She teases me and that's very funny, especially coming from an angel. They aren't noted for their humor.

"That's the truth." I nod.

"Laz?" She asks softly and I look down at her. "Take me to bed."

=-=-=-=-=-=Chapter Eight=-=-=-=-=-=

Sometimes I really wished I had a cock, like I did in the bible. I was mostly a guy anyway, at least on the inside, where it counted. My body was female, and I loved to fuck with the arch-angels. And Livermore, of course, he knew how to make me feel like a woman all over again. But when I was with Uziel, I wished I was a man just so I could know what it was like fucking her.

Instead I had to settle for my mouth at the nape of her delicate neck, my hands on her back, and underneath her, feeling her small hard breasts in my hands. I loved to fuck her doggy style, taking her angelic cunt with a dildo I'd picked up just for her.

It was long and black and thick and I punished her with it, because she was so perfect, and so fallen, and so mine. Uzi's hymen grew back every night, like magic, or everyday if you will, it didn't matter. And so far as I knew she was the only angel who had a hymen, which was something I'd always imagined unique to humans.

But God likes his jokes and giving an angel a sweet little cherry to pop, over and over again, that wasn't beyond Him by any means. So I'd broken her once more, with her wings spread and her back arched, thrusting her perfect ass back to greet my penis of the moment. Uzi wanted it as much as me, even more probably. The pain was her reward.

I just wished I could feel it with a real penis, just once, stretching her tiny sex and hitting that silken barrier of flesh. Feeling it yield slowly, stretching slightly and then tearing, making Uziel gasp the way she always did. Pushing my cock inside slowly and knowing she wasn't going to take it like that. Angels have no patience and she'd push herself against me hard, every fucking time, rolling her cute little ass, rocking her hips, screwing herself onto me.

It was like heaven, exactly like heaven, and I knew because I'd seen it once. It was heaven just for that one brief moment and then it was just sex. But that was still pretty good, and I was fucking her deep, feeling the base of that dildo against my clit, making me feel good, like it might have been me in there. And kissing her skin, smelling her and tasting her. She was sweet, like opium dripping from the poppy, a cloying scent that made my eyes dilate and my nostrils flare.

Uziel moaned, pushing herself back over and over hard. Blood ran down her pale thighs, black and thick and mixed with her juices. Every night she bled for me, my immortal virgin, and she was the only thing I'd ever loved.

I'd fuck her for awhile, until she'd cum and had enough and then we'd make love. The way women do, with our mouths and fingers and legs and arms. All of us, every part of our bodies involved. There was no place upon her skin or mine that wasn't tender and eager to be touched. Wherever our mouths went we shuddered with pleasure.

It was always good for us, Uziel and me.

It was daylight outside, in Heather's apartment, and where she was, the real Heather…Because there was one…I had no idea. Uziel might have killed her, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, but more than likely the girl was flopped in an alley someplace, or at one of the missions sleeping off a good fix. Uziel was practical, even gentle with humans, and she'd have seen the girl off. Or so I hoped.

But Uzi might have killed her too, just to spite me. She had been a little pissed.

"Laz and Uzi, sittin' in a tree…" I heard his voice and I opened one eye. Uziel was sleeping beside me, curled up with her mouth on my left nipple, nursing on me while she dreamt.

"Livermore." I sighed.

"I see you found her." Livermore was sitting in a chair near the drawn blinds.

"She was with me all along." I smiled to myself.

"Ah." The Angel of Death nodded, like that made sense to him.

"What is it?" I asked him softly.

"Just thought I'd stop by." He looked down, brushing some imagined bit of dust from his black cassock. "See how the other half lives."

"Hmmph…" I smiled. "Everyone's a comedian."

I shifted a little, pulling Uzi even closer as she slept, so that she murmured softly, the way she does…She loves to talk in her sleep…And she put her left leg over mine, sliding her wet warm sex against my hip.

"Have you heard about Beschi?" Livermore asked me quietly, not wanting to wake up the angel.

"I heard from him." I sighed. "This morning. They tried to use the Dagger of Aunnas."

"Heh." The angel of death chuckled. "They're getting desperate."

"What about Beschi?"

"His pet, the nun…You know her?" Livermore asked, leaning forward a little and eyeing Uzi's exposed pussy from behind.

"I've heard of her." I nodded.

"She's turned." Livermore smiled, just a little one.

"Vampire?" I blinked at that.

"She'll be looking for you." Livermore nodded. "She can kill you…" He shrugged. "…Maybe."

"Maybe." I nodded and that was the first maybe in two thousand years and I wasn't sure how I felt about it suddenly.

"Anyway, I thought you should know." He shrugged. "We could all be out of a job soon."

"Yeah." I giggled softly.

Livermore was getting up slowly, waiting to see if I'd invite him into our bed. He'd do both of us, and very well too, but I was feeling selfish, and Uziel was sleeping. I'd repay Livermore later and he understood; we both loved Uzi, but I couldn't share her. Not even with him.

"Watch yourself, huh?" Livermore slipped away, like a shadow falling into sunlight, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A vampiric nun, that was very clever, and I wondered how Beschi had managed to arrange that. But he wasn't without his own powers and influence. The old Cardinal was human, but he may as well have been one of us, one of the rara avis. He was a good enemy, a good opponent, and I'd miss him when this was done.

"Sister Ellen…" I drew a deep breath. A vampire…She really might be able to do it, wouldn't that be something. But I'd fight her for it, because I was tired of it, yeah, but it was just my nature. I wanted to go down, but only after a really good fight. The nun would have to prove her worth if she was going to kill Lazarus.

end of Part 24 Read RBVS Part 25

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