The Two O'clock At Half Past
The one hundred years of the life of Greenwich Village wasn't long in the life of the earth, but for a nation not yet three centuries old, such a legacy was significant. While it had been years since any starving artist could afford to live in the trendy district, the rebellious bohemian spirit, buoyed along by the aura of the university, had lived
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Kilraven's white shirt cast a luminous glow on his visitor as he shook her hand, then gestured for her to sit in one of the rattan chairs on the frontside of the desk.
"Do have a seat, won't you?"
The demon sat himself again, dropping out of one reflected sunbeam only to be struck by another.
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"Please excuse my dress today. I've dashed here straight from my latest job. They have a rather strict style code." She grinned wickedly settling herself into the seat, revealing a stretch of fishnetted leg.
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"Not at all. Your particular style is actually quite common among many who have sat in that chair. It is, for understandable reasons, rather popular among a large number of my prospective clients.
"Now, Miss Durga, what is it that I can do for you? You seem to have survived the interim since our first and last conversation."
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“But before I begin, as with any business transaction, I need to know your terms and conditions and the usual hourly rate. I hope to also reach an understanding that anything discussed in this room will remain confidential between us.”
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"Yes, the members of Dr. Freud's profession have become exceptionally corrupt while also becoming exceptionally skittish, especially in cities like this one. They are suitable primarily to drain the purses of the rich and poor alike.
"Now, I on the other hand, do not work the same way. I have terms, which I will describe in due time. Your money however, such as it is, does not interest me. I could speak at length upon the synthetic nature of human economics, but experience has taught me that it is better to establish my credibility and credentials in a more direct fashion.
"You have five senses, Miss Durga. Select one, and I will give you a token of my credentials which will help you understand why your conventional way of seeing transactions does not apply to me. Should you still wish to go on after that, we may continue."
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Sophie paused in thought for a moment. "Just one," she dismissed sight as being too obvious, given the numerous mirrors all manner of parlour tricks could ber performed. "OK, so I choose" she closed her eyes slowly with a slight grin "I choose touch."
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There was a sound of rustling fabric consistent with Kilraven shifting his position, then silence.
It was not long however, before Sophie felt a triple-pointed change in temperature on the hollow of her throat and on the inner corners of her collarbones. At first it was just slightly warm, but the heat rapidly increased until it was almost painful. Just as abruptly then, it halted to dissipate naturally along with the cascade of sensations left in its wake from stimulus of the sensitive nerves.
"Your ears tell you I've not moved. They do not deceive you. Open your eyes now and select a mirror, if you wish. Have no care, the marks will fade naturally as the temperature falls."
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