Lust Letter

You and Emily make it to your destination, Discoteca 7868, and make your way inside. It's early afternoon, so there are only a few people around, staff setting up for the evening. A vacuum cleaner hums in the distance. A middle aged man sits at the bar with his back to you, drinking coffee and pouring over financial reports.

"Estamos cerrados," shouts the young man who was vacuuming as he heads to meet you at the door.

Emily begins speaking to him in Spanish. "We don't care if you're closed. We need to talk to your boss." Then she pulls her jacket aside to show her badge and gun.

The young man stops dead in his tracks. He runs to the man at the bar and whispers, "Federales," into his ear.

The older man turns and approaches. "We both know that the famed American DSD has no jurisdiction here," he growls. "Why do you bother me. I have a business to run."

Emily continues. "We understand your business may include activities that are a concern to the DSD."

The man shakes his head. "I don't allow any sort of demonic activity here. I only provide people with a place to enjoy themselves."

"You sell yourself short," you interrupt. "There's way too much pleasure offered here, and it's not always free. We have a file on you that could close this place down and send you away for 20 years."

Of course, there is no such file. You're working on hunch, but you can't believe how much the simple act of manipulating this man through your lie is turning you on.

"All will be forgotten if you provide us with some assistance."

"How can I trust you?" he asks.

"You can't," you respond. "But you're way beyond trust right now."

He motions toward a private office off the bar. As you follow, you tell Emily to continue with him while you check the place out.

You continue around the dance floor and find a secluded spot. Once hidden, you throw a ward around yourself to ensure you won't be disturbed and open the bag. It contains about a dozen ampoules filled with a swirling greenish gas and an ornate envelope.

You remove the envelope and examine it. It's closed with a wax seal. The imprint on the seal is a waning crescent moon with a plus sign coming from the bottom. You recognize it as the glyph of Lilith. You quickly open the envelope and examine its contents.

The letter is written on fine stationary. At the top of the page is an ornate and stylized letter "M." You grow weak in the knees. This is a message from your beloved Queen Mara herself.

The ink of the letter looks off to you. Rather than black, it's a fading brown. You pull the paper to your face and smell.

It's written in blood....

... virgin blood.

At least part of it is anyway. As you smell the writing more closely, you can sense the growing corruption of the ink donor.

The salutation is written in the essence of pure and chaste young woman, but by the time your queen closed with the phase "Lustfully yours," Mara's inkwell was as wanton and filthy a succubus as you.

You take a moment to examine the message itself. It's written in Babylonian Aramaic. You recognize and understand the language as if you'd spoken it from birth. Then you realize that, in a way, you have. After all, this is the original language of the Talmud, and that is where the legend of your Goddess, Lilith was first reported, and it is the language of your demonic rebirth. You read the letter with growing anticipation.

Dearest Jody,"

Your sisters, Sandy and Olivia, have been hard at work. Here you will find their newest creation.

With the help of some mortal scientists who support our cause, they have enhanced the immunosuppressant that negates the the Lilith Strain vaccine. It is much more powerful than the treatment that blessed you. It works in a single dose.

However, it only suppresses the antibodies of the vaccine for about a half an hour, so use it wisely. Also, it doesn't contain any of the Lilith Strain itself. You'll have to find a way to expose your target to the virus on your own, but I'm sure you'll think of some delicious ways to do that.

Open an ampoule in close proximity to the subject. Within 10 minutes any vaccine will be suppressed.

Happy hunting.

Lustfully yours,

Mara

You hear Emily calling to you and drop the letter into the bag. You walk into the main room.

"You were right," Emily says, "Salbatore has been supplying escorts to the Presidential Palace, but he hasn't been asked to send any since about a week before the attempted coup."

"I assume you got us a ticket on the next trip in," you say.

"Yeah, my buddy Sal took some convincing, but he'll call me as soon as El Jefe places a 'takeout order.'

"You really think I can pass for some high class whore?" Emily asks.

'Not yet,' you think to yourself, 'but soon.'

You shrug instead.

"Let's check back with the crew and see how the other team did," you say.

Back at the van, Nick and Andrea have a similar report, no calls for priests, but Monsignor Navarra will let you know as soon as anything is heard.

Your mission plan told you there's an apartment nearby for your team to stay, so all of you head there to wait for a call.

Everyone relaxes a bit once you are inside. Emily and Nick are clearly flirting as they make some food. Andrea offers to help Liz set up the surveillance camera's and microphones on the roof. Kyle pretends to read his briefing as he steals glances at you. You make it worth his while, leaning over your desk to give him a view down your blouse and showing off your ass when you bend down to pick up some papers you happen to have dropped.

The sun has set, and its absence is filling you with power. You're also getting quite horny. You imagine breaking open half a dozen vials of the anti-vaccine and taking all of your colleagues at once. But you realize what a stupid idea that really is. Before you could infect a single one of them the other four would kill you.

So you bide your time, indulging in your fantasy of an orgy of flesh and fluids.

Until a phone rings.