steel and brimstone:
Jezzebelle sat quietly across from this life form. Not being born yesterday, or even the day before that; she realized he was not human, at least not entirely. Her hands perfectly still, fingers laced together in a relaxed manner; rested exactly as they had when she had placed them upon the table. The blood red shade of nail polish she had chosen, flickering in voiceless crimson droplets of color as the candlelight found their surface pleasing.
Even the wildly roiling colors of her rainbow hued gaze had found its rest; the deep and brazen red of a blazing summer sunrise. Bespeaking heat, humidity and temperature that would scald the skin off the unwary; it shone forth as if someone had lit a fire behind the opalescent windows to her soul. And surely that was the case; for Jezzebelle was a demoness born in the very inferno of hell.
Oh to be sure, she was but a minor demon…all things considered. Nothing to write home about, as the saying goes. But she knew her job, and she did it well. And her exquisiteness was beyond all things in the known world; though she could be as hideous and appalling as the blackness of her essence. However, she mused, as her gaze fastened upon his without so much as a blink of her lashes; that served her ill when the game was afoot.
Her head tilted to the side, as if she sensed something she could not quite identify. The soft brush of her hair upon the sublime and perfect skin of her shoulder enticing the eye to follow its caress. The scent of her perfume, warmed by her body, wafted gently about her slightest movement. Jezzebelle was a creature of temptation, and for that purpose, so was she crafted. A thing the fingers itched to touch, caress, kiss…possess. She seeped through the flesh of human males and lingered like a drug in their bloodstream. Once they desired her, there was no turning back; there was no off ramp, just a headlong plunge into the valley of delight and despair. The trap baited and sprung she took what she had come for and never looked back. A smile of delight upon a face that should belong to an angel of the Divine; owned by a creature that walked a path of fire and brimstone.
All of this passed through her lightning quick mind in as many seconds as it took her to smooth the skirt of her dress. Faultless, not a crease or smudge to tarnish her superb exterior as she sat, unmoved and unmoving across from him.
Though she could not read minds, the expressions that played fluidly across his face gave a clue to his inner turmoil. What was he? She could not presume to know. Nor was Jezzebelle fool enough to assume she did. It was one reason she excelled at her profession; the chase was never counted successful until she had what she desired in her hand. Besides, the hunt was what relieved her boredom; the more difficult, the better. It allowed her to use her charm, her body, and her intelligence.
“I’m just a simple country boy, out to find my place in the big bad world…”
His voice was anomalous; it left a mechanical aftertaste upon her tongue. She could almost hear his brain forming the deception before the words left his lips.
“That’s a lie.”
Her voice was as extraordinary as the rest of her. Balmy and lovely it replicated a thousand warm spring nights in early May. Nor were the words critical, there was no vinegary inflection that would point toward her sitting in judgment. Those three words were stated as simply and clearly as one would comment upon the fact that it might rain. After all, she’d told a lie or three in her extended existence; ye who are without sin among you cast the first stone; or so she’d heard. Jezzebelle was certainly not without sin; she was, in fact, the very incarnation of Sin; with a capital S. This reflection found the savor of her lips quite delicious, a smile following its path, lingering lovingly upon their lush contours.
“My name is Jezzebelle”
This revelation was announced without fanfare or preamble. Again said as simply as if she were commenting on the fact that the wine was bitter; or the female in the corner was a whore (which she was). Of course, this was not her real name; it was one she had adopted from the bible itself. The irony of it utterly enchanted her, and she thought, without doubt, it was very appropriate.
A delicately shaped fire-gold brow lifted above the sweltering heat of her smoldering gaze. The smile that had earlier found her lips so delightful, widened to reveal perfect, if somewhat sharp, white teeth. She fully recognized that he was regarding her as if he had never seen anything like her before. Well, that was probably completely true; this was her territory. Nor did she disregard the fact that he knew she was not human. Once more it seemed as if she could hear the uneasy dialogue of perplexed technology; it concerned her, but not overmuch.
Even the wildly roiling colors of her rainbow hued gaze had found its rest; the deep and brazen red of a blazing summer sunrise. Bespeaking heat, humidity and temperature that would scald the skin off the unwary; it shone forth as if someone had lit a fire behind the opalescent windows to her soul. And surely that was the case; for Jezzebelle was a demoness born in the very inferno of hell.
Oh to be sure, she was but a minor demon…all things considered. Nothing to write home about, as the saying goes. But she knew her job, and she did it well. And her exquisiteness was beyond all things in the known world; though she could be as hideous and appalling as the blackness of her essence. However, she mused, as her gaze fastened upon his without so much as a blink of her lashes; that served her ill when the game was afoot.
Her head tilted to the side, as if she sensed something she could not quite identify. The soft brush of her hair upon the sublime and perfect skin of her shoulder enticing the eye to follow its caress. The scent of her perfume, warmed by her body, wafted gently about her slightest movement. Jezzebelle was a creature of temptation, and for that purpose, so was she crafted. A thing the fingers itched to touch, caress, kiss…possess. She seeped through the flesh of human males and lingered like a drug in their bloodstream. Once they desired her, there was no turning back; there was no off ramp, just a headlong plunge into the valley of delight and despair. The trap baited and sprung she took what she had come for and never looked back. A smile of delight upon a face that should belong to an angel of the Divine; owned by a creature that walked a path of fire and brimstone.
All of this passed through her lightning quick mind in as many seconds as it took her to smooth the skirt of her dress. Faultless, not a crease or smudge to tarnish her superb exterior as she sat, unmoved and unmoving across from him.
Though she could not read minds, the expressions that played fluidly across his face gave a clue to his inner turmoil. What was he? She could not presume to know. Nor was Jezzebelle fool enough to assume she did. It was one reason she excelled at her profession; the chase was never counted successful until she had what she desired in her hand. Besides, the hunt was what relieved her boredom; the more difficult, the better. It allowed her to use her charm, her body, and her intelligence.
“I’m just a simple country boy, out to find my place in the big bad world…”
His voice was anomalous; it left a mechanical aftertaste upon her tongue. She could almost hear his brain forming the deception before the words left his lips.
“That’s a lie.”
Her voice was as extraordinary as the rest of her. Balmy and lovely it replicated a thousand warm spring nights in early May. Nor were the words critical, there was no vinegary inflection that would point toward her sitting in judgment. Those three words were stated as simply and clearly as one would comment upon the fact that it might rain. After all, she’d told a lie or three in her extended existence; ye who are without sin among you cast the first stone; or so she’d heard. Jezzebelle was certainly not without sin; she was, in fact, the very incarnation of Sin; with a capital S. This reflection found the savor of her lips quite delicious, a smile following its path, lingering lovingly upon their lush contours.
“My name is Jezzebelle”
This revelation was announced without fanfare or preamble. Again said as simply as if she were commenting on the fact that the wine was bitter; or the female in the corner was a whore (which she was). Of course, this was not her real name; it was one she had adopted from the bible itself. The irony of it utterly enchanted her, and she thought, without doubt, it was very appropriate.
A delicately shaped fire-gold brow lifted above the sweltering heat of her smoldering gaze. The smile that had earlier found her lips so delightful, widened to reveal perfect, if somewhat sharp, white teeth. She fully recognized that he was regarding her as if he had never seen anything like her before. Well, that was probably completely true; this was her territory. Nor did she disregard the fact that he knew she was not human. Once more it seemed as if she could hear the uneasy dialogue of perplexed technology; it concerned her, but not overmuch.