It was a hot muggy night; New York was ablaze with lights and laughter as people paraded through the downtown core. The Big Apple was a frenzy of activity and dreams, people dressed in a variety of styles as they lined up outside of clubs. Ashley couldn't believe she had managed to get an invitation to Indulgence, a popular new establishment opening up about five blocks north of the Pyramid night club. She'd put on her best dress, a tiny black number covered in sequins, which complimented her black sky high heels and ivory complexion. Tossing her white blonde hair over her shoulder she pulled her invitation from her clutch and handed it to the bouncer. He deliberated for a moment, eyeing the small, fresh faced girl in front of him with a dubious expression. He knew precisely what would happen to this naive little girl from – he read her driver's licence – Indiana, Pennsylvania. She'd get caught up in the glitz and glamour of the night life here in the big city, probably get hooked on something, and end up pregnant and bitter by the time she was twenty five. Oh well. He handed her ID back and kept the invitation. A stamp on her hand and the petite girl was ushered into the building. Little did she know she'd never leave the den of gothic splendor, a least not on her own two feet.
Ashley tried to run, she really did. But it was so fast. She didn't know who it was, only that one moment she'd been dancing with a gorgeous hunk of a man, and the next thing she knew she was experiencing a wave of vertigo so strong she'd nearly passed out. The man had caught her elbow, his eyebrows pulled together in concern as his lips moved.
"Are you okay?" he asked, yelling over the music. Ashley shook her head, one hand rising to cover her mouth the other cradling her suddenly aching gut. He had escorted her to the washroom, and when she came out there it was, a dark lean shape hovering in the corner, wearing trousers and a hooded cloak. She knew that many of the patrons here dressed as if they were characters in an Anne Rice book, but the figure was even creepier than usual. She backed up a bit, taking a couple steps towards the dance floor when it moved. She let out a yelp as she tripped over her own feet, falling to the floor, crying out to the people just around the corner laughing and dancing. The shadow covered her; strong hands gripped her wrists and dragged her to her feet. It wrapped a hand around her mouth, muffling her impending screams. A muffled chuckle from inside the shadowy cowl had her going limp with fear. It carried her down the hallway, her fear mounting as it pushed through a set of double doors and into the stairwell. It was humming something, a soft, heartbreaking string of notes that increased the pitch of her terror. They burst through the doors onto the roof, the wind blowing gently, smelling of sweat and stale Chinese food. The figure let her go, dropping her onto the ground. The eerie song stopped, and the figure knelt beside her.
"Say hello to Koenma for me, child." Its arm moved, lightning fast, the dull glint of the knife a herald to the streak of pain that lanced through her chest. Ashely's anguished scream was cut off as once again the knife descended, shredding her forearms, lacerating the flesh of her chest and abdomen. She laid there, her blood leeching from her body as the figure stood above her. She could sense its happiness, it seemed to drink in her despair and revel in it. Darkness encroached upon her vision, and all she could feel was the icy kiss of oblivion. The figure retreated from the roof, making sure to plant a suggestion in the bouncer's head to go upstairs for a smoke later on in the night. Smiling whimsically the shadow glided through the doors, wrapping its cloak around itself and disappearing into the fog enshrouded night.
Lord Koenma, Prince of the Reikai, hadn't seen a murder this vicious in decades. Most demons killed for a reason: food, shelter, or self defense. Many of the demons that had made their way through the Kakai barrier liked to toy with humans - feeding off their emotions- but rarely did they go this far. The crime scene was taped off, the human police were currently downstairs befuddled by his powers while he and several members of the SDF examined the brutality spread out before them. The only reason he had deigned to come to Ningenkai was because of the damn cryptic message the girl's killer had imparted to him via her soul. There was no sign of demonic activity, only the faint stench of fear and crackling power left over in the air.
"George, summon the warlocks. I want this scene put into stasis; we need someone with expertise to look this over. Oh, and wipe the memory of this from those cops downstairs, we'll be handling this from here." The tall blue ogre nodded emphatically, retrieved his pocket communicator and started babbling away into it. Koenma sighed grimly, it had been almost six months since their last Spirit Detective had absconded to Makai, and he really, really didn't want to ask for her help.
Reika swept through the entrance hall of the main barracks, high heels in hand, her long coffee coloured hair loose and snarled, and her scent tainted by the musk of others. A flash of crimson caught her wayward attention, the shadow that had been lounging against the far wall stepped into the light. Rei held back a sigh. Kurama stood before her, his crimson hair streaked with silver.
"Where have you been, Reika?" He asked coldly as he stepped towards her. Reika smirked arrogantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder and eyeing him up and down.
"You know where, Uncle. I'm sure you can smell their lust on me." The sound of skin on skin resounded through the chamber; Reika shielded her stinging cheek with one golden hand, her ochre eyes wide in disbelief. Tears sprang into her eyes; she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and willed them away.
"Fuck you," She whispered venomously, removing her hand and staring defiantly at him.
Kurama snarled angrily, turning on his heel to glide soundlessly from the room.
"He can't take much more of this Reikai. It needs to stop." Reika screamed in reply, hurling her shoes after him. She ran up the stairs and down the hall to the bathroom. She stripped her clothes off and stepped under the torrent of nearly scalding water. Scrubbing furiously she washed away every sign of the night's activities, the only traces were a few bruises, and the buzz of energy circulating through her well fed aura. Stepping from the shower she toweled off and stood in front of the mirror, one slim hand reaching out to wipe away the condensation, her reflection taunting her with its innocent expression. Her fist connected with the fragile glass, the shards falling to the ground, mirroring the hysterical tinkling laughter that escaped from her throat. Pulling herself together she tied her hair back in a braid and wrapped her lithe body in a robe before padding barefoot down the hallway to her room. She opened her bedroom door and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her. The futon was spread out in the far corner, the thick mattress piled high with blankets and pillows. She barely saw him nestled in the folds, the white sunburst in his hair drawing her gaze. Smiling softly she dropped her robe to the floor and pulled back the covers. As soon as she lay down he rolled over, curling his warm muscled body around hers, his scent washing over her. Breathing deeply she let the smell of campfire roll over her, bringing a sense of peace, comfort and a spark of lust.
'Were you at the clubs?' He projected softly, his mind voice sliding seamlessly through the mental barriers she tried to erect between them.
"I'm sorry," She whispered rolling over to face him. His crimson eyes were swirling with heat, a brooding mixture of love and possession, anger and acceptance. She buried her nose in the crook of his neck, placing a soft kiss there and squeezing her eyes shut.
"You don't need to be sorry, hasaki. You need to feed and we can't fulfill that need."
"I'm still sorry...I keep expecting you to be gone when I come home." Hiei made a soft noise of indignation, his arms constricting around her, his lips grazing her hair.
"I can't leave you, Reika. I love you too much to leave, despite how much I may dislike our current situation. Kurama and the others are looking for other alternatives; I think they might be on to something." Reika knew he was telling the truth, but it was so hard to hope. So hard to think that the price she paid for this body might not be as high as she feared. Sitting up slightly she cupped his angular cheek, purring happily when he nuzzled into her hand and closed his eyes.
"I love you so much. But I can't help but feel like something is coming... that our happiness, however stilted, is under fire." Hiei opened his eyes and smirked, his familiar arrogance seeping through the facade of calm he portrayed to her.
"You know how I feel about fire, hasaki. We will do battle when necessary, for now we can focus on keeping you well fed and coming up with another way for you to feed. I'm finding it harder and harder to let you leave the compound when I know where you're going... and why you're going. As long as you come home to me, love only me... I can endure for now." Reika leaned forwards and placed her lips against his, letting her inner fire reach out to him. The feel of his callused hands on her skin, the heat of his body, it all drove her wild. No matter how many men she fed from at the clubs, no matter how many sweaty bodies she ground against, no matter how many kisses were exchanged, caresses made, they never moved her like he did. Groaning softly she pulled away from him, her eyes flashing violet with arousal. He chuckled darkly, nuzzled her neck and considered biting down. He reigned himself in, fighting back his instincts when the familiar surge of guilt swept through him.
"Go to sleep hasaki before I'm tempted to take advantage of you." Grinning like an idiot Reika curled up against her fire demon and closed her eyes. Hopefully Kurama would have some advice for her tomorrow, advice that wouldn't be delivered in the same way as earlier.