The Book

"It's called the Magdalene Grimoire." Boston Brand began, the ghost who possessed the pale, unassuming body of the goth named Rat. He pulled at the crotch of his pants, unable to hide the boner there.

"As in Mary Magdalene? From the Bible?" Lois asked.

"That's right. After the **** of Jesus she fled, taking with her secret teachings. She was afraid that the world was doomed—that some day, another messiah might be needed. So she wrote that book. It's said to contain the details of a ritual for incarnating spiritual entities in flesh—divine, infernal, fae, whatever. So that, at some future time..."

"...some virgin hoe can become the mother of a demigod!" Black Alice said, with a grin. "Knocked up with the son of a god, no fuss, no muss!" She frowned. "But no fun, either. Fuck that."

"A demigod, maybe...or an antichrist." Boston finished. "Plenty of people have tried to use the instructions to do just that kind of thing. Aleister Crowley tried and failed to use it to create a moon child, using his crude sex magick... but the one who has it now, Blaze, she's a demoness. A succubi. She knows more about sex magick than Crowley ever dreamed."

Lois had a vision then—like a dream, or a memory. The world faded away and she was in a strange room, like the inside of an egg. There was a hole in the ceiling through which the moonlight came, and she was on her shoulders, arms flat on the floor for balance, her body towering above her, legs spread. There were symbols pained on her belly, and something stuck...in her. Like a tube. A telescope. Focusing the rays of the moon, right down to the entrance of the womb. She smelled incense burn, like old spices, heard a rhythmic chant from all around her. Moonlight shouldn't burn, she knew. She shouldn't be able to feel it creep down her canal, like a burning liquid, to drip and pool right beneath her belly button. The ritual required surrender, she knew, to open herself up as a vessel, to receive what was being poured into her...

Lois snapped back to the present. Neither of her companions made any sign that she had spaced out, even for a moment.

"You mean Blaze kidnapped those women to be...incubators?" Lois said. Her crotch felt uncharacteristically damp.

"Or test subjects. Either way, we have to stop her. That's why I need you two. We need to infiltrate the club, get to her sanctum, and grab the book. Without that, she can't finish whatever ritual she has planned. It'll destabilize the workings, and the psychic feedback should send her straight back to hell."

Black Alice looked bored, and reached down with one hand to scratch idly at her bald snatch.

"Do you have to do that?" Lois said, wrinkling her nose. She saw that the young woman's nipples were hard and erect as little pink pencil erasers.

"It's the emanations from the club. Spillover of orgone radiation from the working is exciting our tantric energy centers...we're going to get horny. It's going to get worse in the club itself. Best to get acclimated now."

"Okay. An' what if Plan A doesn't work, Deadman?"

"You borrow Blaze's powers and I'll knock her over the head." He said.

"Oooh, wicked. A'ight, I'm in. What about you super-MILF?"

Lois sighed. She could feel her own nipples push against her bra. "I'm in too. What's the plan to get inside her club?"