#angelfallenfromgrace

He looked into her eyes a bit of a smile coming to his face as he felt her metaphorical claws digging into him already. He was waiting for it, that heat in which they used in their favor but try as he might he couldn’t stop it from effecting him. He may be an angel but he wasn’t completely void of human reaction. That lust in which he fed off of when he was near his object of desire came right through the wall he was trying to build up. she was good, but then again he had never met a redhead he didn’t like either.

"Oh there’s no doubt I’d enjoy it but you on the other hand sweetheart…..you’d crave me. Morning, noon, night. It’d drive you absolutely insane and a succubus with that kind of craving isn’t good for the world so why don’t we just say I’m doing you a favor in walking away." He said even though he couldn’t seem to get his feet moving or his erection to die down. He wanted to do things to her no human could withstand and still be able to function but that admission didn’t even come close to falling from his lips.

Jezika wasn't the typical succubus. She didn't choose to be this way, it was forced on her and that meant that she wasn't the same as others this angel might have met before. She had powers that even other succubus' didn't nor could ever dream of possessing.

Her hand didn't move from his stomach, infact her touch went lower until her fingertips curled into the waist of his jeans and she pressed herself flush against the front of his body.

She wasn't just good. She was the best of her line, which meant trouble for the angel. It was also the reason her maker was still looking for her.

"My, my, you're walking so fast Ican hardly keep up." Her voice was drenched in that honied tone as she ran her lips up the side of his neck. "Who's craving whom, now?" She could feel just how content he was to be in this situation and she chuckled softly before letting him go. But not before she placed a lingering kiss on his lips.

"He's of no concern anymore, Gabriel. He's dead." Lorelei looked at him and sighed softly.

You know those type of people who dress in all black and pretend to be Children of Satan? Yeah, I hate those fuckers. They give me and mine a bad name, not that I really care. None of them hold any power let alone sway with the old gods. They bark up the wrong tree…so to speak.

Let them sacrifice themselves. Isn’t going to do them a damn bit of good except making themselves dead. One less idiotic douchebag I have to deal with.

No, I don’t ride a broom. I don’t wear a pointed hat and i don’t have warts.

But, I do have a black cat named Thackery Binx and he’s sassier than you are.

The first born daughter is always the chosen one. The one with the most power in that generation, and in some families the only one with power at all. This was the case when it came to Evie. She was technically a twin, but she killed her sister before they were ever born.

Each of the thirteen families contribute at least one coven memeber per generation. There are some times when the fates choose something else for the Coven, usually when it comes to the unusual male that gets thrown into the mix.

Eventide is the second oldest and the strongest of the thirteen. And even in her age, she’s developing new powers. She was born with control over compulsion and fire. But she’s gained the ability to shapeshift herself into anyone she touches.

A handy gift that she keeps secret.

The feeling of her blade slicing through flesh was almost euphoric. She took great joy in bringing about the end of life. Taking the life so freely given.

Nobody deserved that life more than Lorelei did. Used for a millenia to do what God didn’t want to dirty his hands with. She was Heaven’s dirty little secret. But she wasn’t God’s to use any longer.

She served a new master now.

One that she didn’t have to cower and hide from. One that appreciated what she had to offer.

Croutching over the child’s lifeless body, Lorelei wiped the blood off of her face as her wings snapped out behind her which generally meant someone akin to her was around. Looking up over the bodies, she narrowed her bright hazel eyes.

Kathy sat hunched over on the dark park bench. Her hand wrapped tight across her stomach, she could still feel the blood coming through and was staring to feel light headed.  It didn't help that her body was bruised everywhere, worst was her throat. When he wrapped his hands around her throat she expected to not wake up again his grip so tight.  She coughed to clear it again, her breathing strained. It had only been a couple of hours since she heard the last of the sirens go by.  Someone must have heard the fight, or maybe he managed to call for help, either way he was getting help in the ER and she was bleeding on this park bench.