Give the incubus credit, it's a pretty good plan.

You nod in agreement. "Sounds like you got it down cold, Robert." You quirk your eyebrows at the father and daughter as they continue to make out. "Now cut it out. We've got plenty of time for that in a little while." The pair break off their kiss, both clearly eager for the chance to fuck away the souls of those they knew and loved as mortals. As you pass through the mall, you see clusters of the Infected milling about, fucking or looking for people to fuck. You all feel a shared contempt for these lessers--they may be on the way to the elevated state of incubi and succubi, but they aren't there yet, and you suspect even after completing transformation they will not reach your status in the ranks of the damned, being little more than horny footsoldiers in Lilith's grand design.

The four of you arrive at O'Malley's, the sort of Irish pub experience that only exists in American malls. As you go through the heavy yet cheap doors made to look like they're oak, you are immediately confronted by a tomboyish young Latina holding an aluminum baseball bat. She breathes a sigh of relief as she sees Amanda and Robert. "Oh, thank God it's you," she says to Amanda. "It has been crazy here."

Robert nods at her. "Maya."

She glances away awkwardly. "Mr. Jennings."

There are two men at the bar, both helping themselves to some of the top shelf liquor, a dark-haired, boyishly handsome fellow in dark slacks who is polishing off what looks to be the latest of a series of shots of Woodford's Reserve, and a blond-haired surfer type nursing a bottle of Blue Label, with a large green duffel-bag at his feet. Both of them have the kinds of looks that would have made you feel very self-conscious as a mortal--your present glamoured appearance blends in quite nicely, actually. The dark-haired man stands up, staring at Amanda like a man recovering a lost heirloom. "Amanda?" he says. "You're all right!"

"Oh, Derek," she says, rushing to him. "It's so good to see you." She draws him in for a long kiss. You, Jess and Robert all share a grin at that, knowing that Derek is now already lost, infected with the Lilith Strain. "I was worried about you," she says, breaking the kiss. She slides next to the blonde, who you realize must be Mick, rubbing his shoulder. "Worried about all of you."

Maya seems faintly suspicious, though you can also tell that she has no idea what's really going on. She gives you and Jess a side-eye even as she sets down her bat and returns to the bar, where she pours herself a shot of what looks to be exceedingly pricey vodka. "So who are you guys?"

You and Jess introduce yourselves to the others. "We picked them up on East Main Street," says Robert, carefully moving to flank Maya.

"I... I'd totalled my car trying to get away from one of those... things," you say with an exaggerated shudder as you join Robert in flanking Maya. She gives you a sympathetic nod and pours you a shot. As you gulp it down, you note that it now seems weak as water to you.

"It's been so crazy," says Jess, sliding up to Derek. "We saw... so many... awful things..." Derek sympathetically hands her his shot, and takes his next swig straight from the bottle. Jess rests a hand on his shoulder, as she swallows it down. You can tell she's as displeased as you are at its lack of potency.

You and your fellows in damnation all share a nod. You've managed to get your mortal victims to lower their guards, and allowed themselves to be surrounded. It's time to spring the trap.