A Step Too Far

"What have you got for me, sheriff?" Captain Cliff asked as he ducked under the yellow police-tape blocking the entrance to the warehouse. The beautiful woman following in his footsteps did the same, but she made it seem so much more graceful, like part of a dance. Her long, white cloak flowed around her and two waist-length blonde braids swayed gently on her back. 

"A real fucking bloodbath." The local sheriff, a trusty enough man, was standing just inside. "Five dead, gunshot wounds, all of them."

"Anyone we know?" Cliff asked carefully. 

 

"Four are nobodies." The sheriff sighed. "Small-timers. Then there's the last guy, Caleb McCoy. A real nasty character with a rap-sheet long as my arm. Prostitution, burglary, you name it. This guy had his fingers in a lot of pies, but drugs were his real stock in trade. This whole place is stuffed with them. Cocaine, heroin, all kinds of nasty stuff. I think he must have been experimenting with something new judging by what happened in there. Like those bath salts, maybe? Those can make you go crazy and eat people, right?" 

"So I've heard." Cliff nodded. He knew about other things that could drive a man insane thanks to his companion, things he'd rather would have remained a mystery to him. Was this Caleb McCoy dealing with them as well as drugs though? That was the million-dollar question. 

Who's that?" The sheriff noticed the woman at last, his eyes widening in shock at her odd appearance. 

"A forensic specialist." Cliff sighed, a half-truth if there ever was one. The real identity of his companion was too bizarre for him to even try to explain. "I'll vouch for her." 

"Fine." The sheriff shrugged. "Fair warning though, it gets really messy in there." 

"Do not fear, sheriff." The woman spoke. Her voice was gorgeous, that was the first thing he'd noticed about her the day they'd met. It sounded like she was singing, lilting softly up and down like music. "I am quite accustomed to bloodshed. Leave us. I need to observe the site." 

"Yes, ma'am." The sheriff nodded, doffing his cap to her. Without a second thought about letting a stranger into his crime-scene, he turned and strode away down the corridor. Cliff watched the man go with a small smile. It was always like that. People trusted her and why wouldn't they? She was so beautiful and she wanted only to help them. 

He stood back to let her go first, then followed in her wake as she glided to an open door on the side of the corridor. She ducked inside without pausing, but the all-too familiar smell of blood and semen made him splutter and cough. Fucking hell, what happened in here? 

"This is not good." He heard her say, and mustered his courage to follow. His horrified gaze flickered over an awful scene. Five dead men, just like the sheriff had told him. Four of them were naked, dirty clothes scattered around in pools of blood. 

"Holy shit." He breathed. This was...horrendous. 

"Quite unholy, I'm afraid." The woman sighed. "This reeks of demonic influence. Judging by the gang-rape, I'd venture either a succubus or an incubus. They find perverse amusement in such things, but they don't usually stoop to killing their mortal prey. That isn't all though." She stepped around the pile of bodies, her dark-green eyes flickering over the room. Cliff felt his skin start to tingle, and knew she was using magic again. "There was a warlock in this room last night, one of quite remarkable power if I can still detect his presence." 

"You think...was it one of them?" Cliff asked hurriedly, nodding to the bodies. It wouldn't be the first time he'd found a criminal dabbling in dark magic. That was why they'd partnered up in the first place.  

"No." She murmured. "I sense...he's young, very young. Only a boy, raw and untrained or he'd better understand how to hide himself. I'm trying to trace him now, but there's something blocking my sight. Hold on. There was a woman here too." She reached down slowly, like something else was guiding her arm. He watched her fingers drift over the floor until they found a long string of dark, red hair. 

"Your murderer was the woman, captain." The sorceress explained, rubbing the strand of hair gently between her fingers. "She was abused, quite terribly, by these men. Her pain is...difficult for me to bear. It appears that the demon was called here by the warlock, perhaps to defend himself from these criminals. It made them turn on each other. She then took advantage and killed them all. It was a righteous act, of a sort, and I doubt she remembers anything about the demon either. If you do ever find her, take heed of that." 

"I will." Cliff nodded. He could muster up the evidence to prove as much to a jury. It was just a matter of taking what she told him and using it to read the room. "What about the warlock though?" 

"He's gone." She rose to her feet, her full lips curled with determination. "I'm having difficulty sensing where. The trail leads..." She drifted past him, her voice dying away in the middle of her sentence. He was used to her eccentric behavior by now and just followed her as she stepped back out into the corridor. "No!" She stammered, suddenly sounding horrified. She darted away, flying forward like a startled bird. Cliff loped after her as fast he could manage. He found her just around the corner, staring down at a patch of empty floor. It was scorched, a lurid black burn etched into the tiles. 

"What's that?" He asked, struggling to catch his breath. Not as fit as he used to be.

"The remains of a portal." She breathed, staring down in horror at the mark. He hadn't seen her show any sign of fear in a long time, and that made him frightened too. "The demon went back to Hell through here, but the power used to open the gate is extraordinary. That was what I detected last night, what led me to contact you. Wasted energy and an unnecessary risk, two things demons usually avoid. Unless she...wasn't alone?"

"She?" Cliff asked, staring at that lurid burn. A portal, fuck, even he knew that was bad news. 

"This is the work of a succubus." She bent over halfway, like she was scared to even get close to the mark. "And an incredibly powerful one at that. Stronger than any demon I've encountered in this realm for decades at least. Even you should be able to feel a residue." Her pale cheeks were flushed, he realized, and there was something heated in her gasps for air. Cliff shifted on his feet, noticing  to his horror that he had a stiff erection pressing against his pants. He was horny, in spite of everything he'd just seen! But the next thing the sorceress said chilled any warmth left in his blood. "The demon took the boy with her, back to Hell." She whispered.  

"Is that even possible?" Cliff stammered. 

"Not usually." The woman breathed, staring in horror at the mark. "She's strong and she must have had some claim on him. Perhaps they made a bargain where she gave him something in exchange for his soul. That's old magic though, very old. The kind a properly trained warlock wouldn't bother with. I fear she must have tricked him into using it. Unfortunately it's also binding, in every way that matters."

"So he did this to himself?" The captain stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good riddance then."  

"I doubt he was even aware what he was giving up." The sorceress sighed. She reached down with a trembling finger, running it gently along the edge of the mark. "I can't see him very well, but I do sense fear and terrible loneliness. He's very young and I don't think he wanted to hurt anyone. A succubus this powerful can read a mortal's every desire like pages of a book. She showed him something, a glimpse of what he wanted above all else. A lover, or is it perhaps a mother?" She straightened suddenly, pulling her hand away from the mark like she'd been stung. "Captain." She turned on him, her cape flowing about her slender body and he shivered when her gorgeous green eyes found his. "If you receive word of a teenage boy missing in this area, send it to me at once. He's probably an orphan or foster-child, with a difficult home-life lacking in love. I need to know everything about this warlock, everything that happened to him in the past few weeks." 

"Why though?" Cliff asked and she frowned at him. The captain swallowed, struggling with how to put this correctly. "He's in Hell now, right?" 

"There's a chance I can save him." The sorceress murmured. "The risks of me even attempting this...I don't even want to think about them, but I have to try." He shivered at the fear in her voice. If she was afraid of trying this, the danger must be very real indeed. Even to him, saving someone from the clutches of a demon in Hell sounded like a fool's errand, but he knew better than to try and persuade her otherwise. She'd always been like this, as long as he'd known her, always ready to risk everything to save others. He only hoped she didn't end up dead or worse this time. "First though, I need to know exactly how and why he summoned her." She cocked her head to one side, her gorgeous eyes flickering back down to the mark on the floor. "Leave if you would, captain and keep the site clear for me as long as you can. I need to be alone here for a while." 

"Of course." He nodded, then turned and strode back round the corridor, giving the door with the massacre inside a wide berth. This had been a bad one, but there were always new horrors to be found whenever she contacted him. Sometimes he waited for months, part of him hoping that she wouldn't call again so he didn't have to see these terrible things, but when she did he always gave her everything she asked. 

So, a teenage boy gone missing. He'd keep an eye out and ask a few contacts in the area if they'd heard anything. It did kind of sting knowing that he was helping to put her in terrible danger again. She was one of the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen, and so driven in her desire to help people. No matter that she saw the worst of them, the awful  things they did to each other when they had the kind of power she used only for good. He'd been lost after far less, but he was so much weaker than her, in every way that mattered. 

Every time they met again he found himself in awe of her courage, her sheer determination and her haunting beauty. And she'd chosen him to help her, a washed up, cynical old cop, divorced and drinking himself to death. She'd given him new purpose since those dark days. He couldn't let her down, even if it meant telling her about this boy and letting her risk everything to save someone who clearly didn't deserve it. 

After all, he'd been in love with her since the day they'd met. Not that he'd ever mention it of course. Sometimes though, she'd take this long, lingering look at his face with those dark-green eyes and he sensed she knew anyway. If she wanted to keep him at a distance because of it, that was fine too. Even the thought of trying to seduce her made him feel dirty, like he was dragging something pure and wonderful through the muck. She was so beautiful and so good, he often found himself wondering if she could even be human.  

No, he was happy if he could just help her what little he could, standing in her shadow and watching someone so amazing at work, knowing that he was making some difference in the world by giving her his small support.

Now, if only she'd tell him her name.