Lois Lane Meets Angelica Blaze

There was a sense, not of Lois herself moving, but of the world moving around her. Darkness stretched and warped, Latisha's curvaceous black form distorted and slipping away behind Lois as a new reality squirmed into place around her—snapping back into stillness with a sharpness that surprised the reporter.

Lois Lane looked around and found herself standing on the other side of the door, in what appeared to be a combination of an office and a warlock's workshop. She stood on a Persian rug over flagstones; the walls were red brick, glazed as from heat. Gold-framed paintings and prints of naked witches and demons hung on the walls. To the reporter's right was a bar topped with black marble, glassware, bottles of expensive ****; to her left, a marble-topped altar covered with animal skulls, an inverted crucifix, a dagger and black chalice, leather-bound books, small charms and devices whose functions Lois did not know...and before her...

The desk was huge, old, and heavily carved. Griffons seemed to hold up the edges, and the side facing her had a vast demonic mouth with glaring eyes. Yet atop it was three laptops and a riot of cables, and behind that was a smart-looking woman in a deep red business suit. She stood up, and Lois saw that she was taller than the reporter by at least a head; the oily black ringlets of her hair fell in a mane down her back from a high, broad forehead. Dark eyes glinted when they examined Lois, a playful half-smile on her lips.

The woman snapped her finger. A black spark jumped...and a wooden chair with a velvet cushion walked from the corner, lumbering along heavily, to plant itself in front of the desk.

"Sit, Lois," the woman said in an odd, unfamiliar accent. Something Greek, perhaps, or Turkish, though the reporter could not touch it. "I am Angelica Blaze. The one you came to see."

Not wanting to show any fear, the reporter carefully stepped forward and sank into the chair. Blaze walked around the desk, the better that they would see each other. Lois took in the long, well-muscled limbs, the pantherish way of walking. Though Angelica Blaze was wearing a fairly conservative business suit, there was something off about the way she walked, more like a man than a woman.

"I see you've been busy," the woman gestured vaguely at Lois...no, at the reporter's tits. Lois felt a blush creep up on her cheeks, but she refused to rise to the bait. "So tell me...what does the Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter want with me?"

"I want to know what you're doing here," Lois said. "Although I have a pretty good idea already."

"Oh?" Angelica Blaze raised an eyebrow.

Which is how Lois explained all that she had uncovered. The missing women. The brothel. The transformed sex workers. Blaze listened patiently, her countenance showing little surprise, a perfect poker face.

"...you're not really human at all, are you?" Lois said at last.

"I'm half-human," Blaze said. "Both sides of my heritage come with certain needs. Demons need psychic sustenance to draw on, humans need...well. Call it companionship. Social animals, and all that."

"So the brothel is a way to get souls and sex," Lois said, her mouth a grim line. "Clever. Efficient. But it has to end."

"And why is that?" Blaze said. Her tone was light, but there was menace there. "Because you've stumbled across my little operation? Oh no, Lois. Not at all. In fact..."

In the blink of an eye, the demon crossed the space between them. The wooden arms of the chair closed around the reporter's torso, trapping Lois in place, her big breasts now squeezed out between them. Blaze held up a great ruby, nearly the size of her fist, shining with dozens of facets. Lois closed her eyes...but Blaze's hand pressed against the reporter's face, thumb and forefinger pulling the lids open.

"Look, Lois," the red stone swam into the reporter's vision. "Look into my heart, and see the mirror of your own desires. Who are you? And more importantly...who shall you be?"

Curiosity, brief and sharp, stabbed through the reporter's brain. Her eye focused on the depths of the gem. Just for a fraction of a second...and then, Lois could not look away.