Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

The birthday party ended at some time a few hours before dawn. Israfel was already in bed, laid down on his back with a forever smile and two hot babes in his arms; he counted the minutes until sunrise.

What could compare, he wondered, to the feeling of having the best night out with some fucking amazing twins? To been blown by both girls? To be shared by virtually two of the same person; Rafel did love to clasp his mind onto the nuances that distinguished them—when they lay in bed with him, he stroked the gold streak in Keziah's hair and the silver in Raziah's.

Sunrise met him still smiling to himself.

He rose at the first purple ray that split the drapes of the cottage, and made for the bathroom. The water was icy, but he didn't mind. Some might say he was of a nature hot enough to boil the shower spray. He wouldn't deny—being a literal demon and all. It came with the habitat he was born in.

In fact, legends like his Uncle, Lord Lucifer and the psycho principality, Moloch loved to take their morning baths in dips of pools of [Hel flame]: lava that perpetually burned in the underworld. When Rafel stepped out the shower, vapors of steam flocked him like the clouds. His internal heat had drops of water hissing on his gold skin.

Rafel of course could tone it down whenever he wanted.

But the morning was cold; and he desired a hot bath to start the day. And so he made it so, even without pulling on mana from his [Rank A] Demon Core. Rafel searched the room in a loose towel for his abandoned briefs.

"You're heading out already?" A quiet voice called.

Rafel turned to the bed. It was Keziah. She yawned softly as he walked over. "Hi. You're awake. I didn't want to wake you.

Yes," he said, "I've got to meet up with someone at the Lakewood island. I have to ferry there, and I want an early start. I tried to sleep in for as long as I could, but ...I gotta go."

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Keziah offered him a little smile that just made the morn glow a little bit brighter; he saw the gold of the sun in her eyes. He added, "You're cute. Trust me, I wish I could stay."

Keziah's smile stretched. "Oh, don't worry. I'm a big girl." She glanced to her sleeping sister. "We both are. Now go on. I'd hate to be the one to make you tardy to your function." She looked him up and down when he hesitated.

"—because one more second, and I'll drag you into this bed with me, where I can warm you for a few hours. . .with this. . ."

She dropped the opal sheets from her chest and Rafel caught a good glimpse of perky pink. "Oh, don't tempt me." He grinned, kissing her forehead and easing off the bed.

As he pulled on his clothes to leave, Keziah called finally to him. "Hey, don't be a stranger."

At the door, he nodded, and turned for a last look for the journey back to [C. A. W] island. Keziah was already purring again in her sister's arms, the girls were curled snugly into each other. He saved the memory, and kept imagining them under the moonlit night, in radiant white, as he mounted a waiting horse and rode out to the large transport ship waiting at the dockets.

He joined the other passengers headed out to sea, with different stops at the neighboring isle.

He found out, just before the ship took sail, from a caped houseguard loyal to the Fairfield banners that the Duchess was still asleep from the partying into late night. So were all his friends. He left on the transport ship alone, knowing the good Lady Fairfield would be kind enough to offer her prized boat to his friends for one more ride.

"Ahoy! Take me to the Grand Tourniquet Inn."

Rafel hailed a carriage when he hit dry land, riding with a private lift from the loading docks on the [C. A. W] island all the way to the Inn he'd requested. It was where he was to have the meeting for which he had woken so early. Rafel stared out the passing streets of the goth academy: its long shadows and medieval towers, as the buggy rolled on the way. The school was only just awakening.

Rafel tipped the cabbie heavily when they finally rumbled to a stop.

"The Grand Tourniquet Inn!" The happy horseman announced.

Rafel turned to the great mountain of greystone claiming almost a hundred forward feet of the entire sidewalk. He looked up the spooky turrets but couldn't see the end of it. The steeples were hid in the blue firmament of heaven, rolling nimbi obscuring skylights. The Inn was several storeys of wondrous, colossal hotel.

How ancient it must be? The architecture: cedars and obsidian.

The Grand Tourniquet Inn was a skyscraping organism rising from the very earth to tell a tale of wealth and centuries of secrets its stone walls had claimed.

It made total sense that his billionaire wife would stay here.

Rafel moved in long strides, his gait confident to draw stares from the bellman. At the silverly counter in a resplendent foyer with gold-leaf floors, Rafel slapped his invite on the polished top and said, "I have a calling card for Madame Yemaya."

The concierge gave him a look of unbelief. He took the card, stuttering, "The A-Atlantean queen?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, but who is she to you. As you know, Sir, we can't just dish out room keys to any—"

"She's my wife."

Rafel's tone gave the man pause and he quickly nodded. "Topmost floor. Her Majesty has the penthouse suite. You'd need to ride the private elevator." He pointed, but Rafel was already off in that direction.

In the luxury box ride up to the penthouse, a tiny monochrome voice which seemed like it was a pixie whispering in his ear advertised to him the distinguished air of the hotel, as if he didn't already see it: "Welcome to Grand Tourniquet. The Inn is a five-star top reservation, boasting diverse stellar bedchambers with themes to suit the tastes of many a magical faction.

We have attic lofts for Fae, adorned bunkers for vampires, and—"

Rafel hit the glinting button to shut out the voice.

What the tiny recording didn't say was that the Grand Tourniquet Inn was owned by a board of Elder Vampires, just as ancient as the hotel itself. Once again, it was all in the name: TOURNIQUET?

Really, they couldn't do better?

Ding!

The elevator doors swished open, and Rafel's eyes fell on his sumptous bride.

She was already waiting for him.

"Hi. Good morning." Yemaya embraced him. "How was the journey? I almost sent you a message not to come if it caused you any discomfort. We can always discuss some other time. I can arrange for a submarine to bring you into Atlant.

There, we can have all the fucking time we want to talk."

Rafel kissed her cheek. "No. It's no bother. I like to be up before the birds. But...nice digs!"

He raised his brows at Yemaya's chambers. She was really owning the penthouse. It had been fitted with marine curtains of softest chiffon, bluish lighting, a perfect addition of a floor-to-ceiling aquarium; complete with goldfish and crimson algae. The entire penthouse suite was like a mini underwater castle.

It had that psychedelic glow, almost haunting.

Hypnotic.

Sleepy.

"You like?" Yemaya leaned in.

"Yep." Rafel put his hands in his pockets as she led to a seating area with a state-of-the-art oceanic mural and long, nice sofas. They both settled into the same one and faced each other. "Thank you for having this meeting with me," Yemaya said, "I'm only on land for a few days. I can't be parted from the sea for too long. You know how it goes."

"You are my wife." Rafel's voice was sure. "—and sex or not, I will always be here for you. I may not like the idea of marriage, but I sure as fuck keep my oaths. You are of great importance to me." He pulled a blue curl of her long hair to stare more into her crescent pupils. "I hate to ask this, but, can I buy back the Book of Souls from you?

I need it for a friend, Corazón; you guys met once. I don't know if you remember. She's got her memory wiped. I need the Grimoire to fix it. It's a last resort. You can name your price."

"Yeah," Yemaya leaned on the sofa with one arm behind, "I heard all about Emberfall. I'm truly sorry. I wish I'd been there. And yes, I remember Cora. She's pretty hard to forget. But you really think I would sell you the Book of Souls?

You, my dearest spouse? Consort of the Sea Goddess? Come on!"

She laughed when Rafel squinted. "But the Grimoire cost you twenty fucking million?"

Yemaya only smiled. "Ohh, my love, you must not know how rich I am."

"Now, I do." Rafel mentally tripled the net worth of his wife in his head.

Yemaya pointed to a spot on a table where a package binded in dark leather lay. "Way ahead of you, babe. The Book of Souls; packaged and ready to go."

"Wow! Thank you," said Rafel.

Yemaya scoffed. "Please, I would flood a nation for you." Rafel gulped, seeing the raw sincerity in her eyes. She really would. Yemaya continued, "but, I can do you one better. Something that would really help your friend remember. Or at least, speed the process along."

She crossed her long, brown-skinned legs. Rafel was intrigued. He moved closer to her.

"What, my darling?"

"I can tell you who wiped her memory."