I have been working on this series of stories for a while now. It is about a renegade Immortal and her struggle between light and dark.

Chapter One

The waitress slammed the coke on the table causing the sugary dark liquid to slop over the sides of the frosted glass and splash icily on my bare knees, I jump and glare at her irritably. Her name tag proudly announces that her name is Jodie and despite the “Hi, I’m your friendly waitress” statement printed on the tag she doesn’t notice me, she is staring dreamily at the man sat opposite me, tossing her beautiful red tresses she grins insipidly at him blushing as he tosses her an arrogant wink. She places the bottle of Corona carefully in front of him giving him a full view of her ample bust, crushed into a small skinny-t before scurrying girlishly away to consort with her fellow waitresses. Pathetic.

The man, noticing my distaste and also the wad of napkins I was using to wipe the coke from my lap, smiles innocently before taking a long draught from the cold beer.

“You know” I growl tossing the stained napkins onto the table, “There is such a thing as being too good looking!”

I take a sip from my coke rolling the liquid around my mouth, the taste of coke has always been astounding to me, sugary sweet thickness which seems to buzz in my head, I think I could sit for hours sipping and trying to identify exactly what it is supposed to taste like, if I were normal I think I would get fat from all these thoughts, my home is littered with “dead” bottles.

“Well I suppose I could tone it down a little” the man finally replies widening his light grey eyes a little as though feigning innocence. “But then what would I do with my Friday nights?”

I can’t help it, I chuckle softly at first before holding my stomach, leaning back and letting the laugh roll huskily from my mouth.

“It’s been to long Dante” I sigh smiling at him. He nods leaning back on the leather chair and looking at me with light dancing in his eyes.

Dante is a changeling, a minor demon. No one see’s their true shape and there is good reason, rumour has it their true visage is horrible to behold and I believe no one who tells me you can’t die from revulsion. Changelings make excellent spies and mimics and can fool anyone; therefore there are very few changelings you can trust. Dante is one of those trusted. Dressed today as a young twenty-something man his hair curls just above the colour of a grey Luis Vitton shirt, its only his eyes that don’t change with his form, other changelings see this as his flaw, proof that he is a half breed, half human. He is normally held at arm’s length by other demons, deemed “too human, too pure!” and all that supremacist bullshit. I’ve got one thing to say about Dante, he’s got style.

“Why’d you call?” I ask placing my hands on the table and studying his “present” face. Soft cupids bow lips, firm jaw, just shy of being manly and an impressive Greek skin tone which would make any other woman melt.

“Word on the realm is, Grendel’s looking for you”

I groan and roll my eyes. I hate Valkeryies.

“Come on Lil, he isn’t that bad” Dante smiles gently and leans forward, I lean in to meet him and we stop halfway across our respective sides of the table, heads conspiratorially together as though we were long lost lovers exchanging vows in a dingy, greasy down town diner.

“I refuse to confer with that one! That egotistical washed up old Viking!” I spit bitterly pushing my hair from my face with an aggressive swipe of my hands. Dante shrugs and smiles prettily. “You don’t have to meet with him Lil; I’ll just let him know you said go to hell!”

I prop my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands. Valkeryies are dead warriors who have completed trials in order to gain a place of glory in the higher realms, Soldiers, Generals, Saxons, Vikings whatever! From the beginning of time to today’s Iraq, if you were killed honourably in the name of good you ultimately become a Valkeryie and trust me, after a while the honour goes to their heads. Grendel was, as I had said to Dante, an egotistical washed up old Viking who still believes I can be drawn into the light, each time he’s tried I’ve invariably stabbed him with something.

“I take it he’s still trying to convert you?” Dante asks as though reading my mind.

“Just forget him” I reply raising my head to look at him. “Tell me news, gossip. Anything happening?”

News of Otherkin, much more interesting then the ‘Daily Mail’ believe me!

Dante thinks for a moment before shrugging “None worth mentioning”

I sigh, boring!

“Except...” my greedy ears prick up.

“We’ll have a new child of the millennium released in the next few days”

A child of the millennium is a demon imprisoned during the fall, usually an Angel that’s turned, you can’t keep them locked up forever you know, and they each serve sentences according to their crime.

“Who?” I ask reaching forward to pick up my glass.

Dante doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me wide-eyed and innocent, he’s nervous or excited I can tell from the way his glamour slips, I see darkness through the patches of skin and his cheekbones slip down his face a little. His full cupids bow lips thin grotesquely, I swear in Aramaic before reaching out a hand to touch his face, steadying his glamour and patching it up a bit. Dante seems to get hold of himself; he’s once more the Dolce and Gabbana poster boy, all cheekbones and pouting lips. I lower my hands slowly.

“Fuck Dante!” I hiss giving a quick glance around, no-one is looking apart from “Jodie” who from the cruel little glances she is giving me has noticed nothing other than my putting my hands on his perfect face. I turn back to Dante who is taking deep breaths; his glittering, excited eyes are fixed on me.

“What in Hells name is wrong with you Dan? Never slip in public, never!”

He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me with sparkly eyes and all at once I smell secrets, secrets worth my time. I should have known when he called me inviting me down to Weatherspoons, Grendel’s message was probably true, but we both knew it didn’t warrant a visit, Grendel is always looking for me.

“How much?” I ask my tone is serious; my pose has stiffened to become business like.

“It’s a freebie” He replies the corners of his mouth kicking up into a cheeky smile.

It takes me a second to realise we have both slipped into Cardeshian, language of the lower realms and the harsh guttural tongue warms my throat.

“You’re not normally one for giving out freebies Dante, your one who hordes power” I smell bad news “You don’t get power handing out freebies!”

“Call this one a favour, Sanvii wants’ this kept from you.”

My heart kicks up a gear, what the fuck does the jumped up little Cherub have to do with this?

“The child of the millennium to be freed next”

He pauses either for dramatic effect or nervousness, I don’t know but it’s irritating as hell.

“Yeah?” I prompt, eyes wide, mouth open, heart hammering. Oh yeah, he had me on a string!

Dante swallows loudly “Its Sammael”

My empty hand twitches and the half empty glass of coke flies to my left and off the table, smashing on the mock marble, coke spreads in a large puddle. People are looking at me and Dante; I can feel their eyes pressing into my skull. My eyes are locked with Dante’s.

“That’s not possible!”

The End

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