Purely F****** Sinful

Chapter 9

"What is it?" Anthony warily asked.

"That is Ragnarok: The Destroyer. Even beings deemed immortal or invincible cannot withstand Ragnarok's power. No one knows its origin or the purpose of its creation. All that is known is, it has a will of its own. It chooses who can wield it, and those unworthy are torn asunder."

Anthony stepped back from the relic. If what Angel said is true, then what is she doing with such a powerful weapon? If the sword found her worthy, it must be a creation of absolute evil.

She seemed to read his apprehension. "Don't worry; I don't have the strength to wield it anymore."

Anthony gazed at Angel. "You mean, you used to be more powerful than you are now?"

"In my prime, there wasn't much I wasn't capable of. Certainly more than reading minds and controlling weak willed mortals. I possess but a fraction of my former power."

"Is that why you hide from the outside world? You don't have the strength to fight back against the 'entities' you mentioned before?"

Angel sighed. "Partially, yes. I would be no match for an angel in my current state."

Anthony gave Angel a look of surprise. "Angels? They exist?!"

Angel rolled her eyes. "You know for a fact: demons exist. How could you not know angels were real too? Just don't go believing all that God and Satan nonsense you humans conjured up."

"I try not to make assumptions," Anthony said. "Otherwise, I would think you'd have severed heads and leech extract in your fridge."

"Touché," Angel giggled. "Crusaders, on the other hand -- them, I could take care of, if they were alone."

"What are Crusaders?" Anthony asked.

"Crusaders are an order of men dedicated to the extermination of demons. Their order is as old as civilized man and is well-versed in the art of magic. They are much more secretive and reclusive than they used to be. However, you can always spot one by the small cross branded on their neck."

Small cross? Brand? Father Thomas! Recognition exploded in his mind.

"I saw one yesterday!" Anthony explained. "He came to my apartment asking about the night club murder. I knew something was off about him. He gave me some bullshit story about..."

"I can read minds, remember?" she interrupted. "I figured one of them would be paying you a visit after that night club fiasco hit the news. This is good news for you, Anthony, because we need him to find Bridget's killer."

Anthony looked at Angel inquisitively. "We need him? For what?"

"Hmm, how to put this delicately? We don't need him, per say. Rather, we need his heart."

"I'm not helping you kill people, Angel!" Anthony scolded.

"You won't have to kill anyone. However, I never said you wouldn't have to do questionable things. You want my help, this is me helping you. One hand washes the other."

Anthony thought about it. He was okay with her killing criminals -- but a priest? That is going too far.

"Since you're busy questioning your own morality, allow me to make this easy for you. While you were spending the day trying to find an alternative to my offer, I took the liberty of doing a little memory spying on Father Thomas. Turns out, Mr. Holy Man has an affinity for young girls. Too-young girls, if you catch my drift."

"A corrupt soul..."

"That's right! It's a win-win for us both. All I need you to do is lure him to my lair. I will handle the rest."

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan. Go ahead and tell him it's a trap for all I care. He will suspect as much anyway. I just need to get him to part with the prayer beads that hang around his neck. They are the source of a Crusader's magical power. Remove the beads, and they are powerless."

Doesn't sound too hard. "All right, I'll do it. I'll call him tomorrow and tell him to come to my apartment. Then I'll show him where your lair is."

Angel rose from the couch, "Now that our plan is in order, I need to take a much needed shower. I'm still sweaty and dirty from tonight's dinner."

She walked to her large shower stall. Anthony's eyes were affixed to her backside, staring at her perfect ass -- and the tail that swayed with every step.

Both shower heads sprung to life when Angel turned on the water. One sprayed down her back while the other wetly massaged her still dripping p***y. It was apparent why her shower was so big: her wings would not fit in a normal shower. No shower curtains or door were apparent; Angel soaked her body out in the open without a care.

Anthony watched on from the couch. He definitely enjoyed the unintentional show Angel put on. Or was it so inadvertent?

She lathered-up a loofa and vigorously scrubbed her arms and neck. Water and suds cascaded through the valley of her pert breasts, past her flat stomach, and in torrents between her lithe legs. She massaged her soapy breasts; n*****s protruded from the bubbles like flashing beads beckoning him.

Bracing her foot on a ledge, Angel scrubbed her legs one at a time, and then turned her ass in Anthony's direction. Suds flowed from her loofa as she rubbed the small of her back just above her tail. Then she grabbed her tail with one hand and stroked it with her soapy other hand.

Angel returned to her efforts. She extended her wings and tried to reach behind herself but could not quite catch the top of the saurian limb stretching from her back. Angel struggled several times before Anthony's voice caught her off guard.

"Do you need a hand?" he offered.

"No!" she grumbled, still struggling.

Anthony walked over to the shower, pulling the loofa from Angel's hand.

"Here, allow me."

Angel was irritated but did not decline Anthony's offer. He stretched to the top of her wings and lightly scrubbed them. The water spraying on her wings sounded like raindrops hitting an umbrella.

After lathering her wings, Anthony returned the loofa to her and used his hands. The wings were smooth like leather to the touch. Angel mewled as he rubbed the soapy lather all across both wings and traced his fingers down her phalanges. She jerked when he tried to rub the base of her wings at her shoulders.

"That tickles!"

"Sorry."

Anthony rubbed up and down her back. He stopped to massage her shoulders. A mist of water bounced from Angel's body and drenched Anthony's clothes. He did not mind.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," Angel purred.

"I used to wash Bridget's back like this every day when we showered together. I always loved the way the water ran down her back, how her fresh wet hair smelled, how her skin got goosebumps if I got too close to her ribs." He backed off, realizing his mind had wandered. "Sorry."

Anthony jumped slightly as Angel's tail wrapped around his back, stopping his retreat. It squeezed him ever so slightly like a gentle hug.

"She was a beautiful woman," Angel said softly.

"Yes, she was."

There was a dead silence for a while. Anthony focused his thoughts on washing Angel rather than dwell on how much he missed Bridget. She stood quietly, enjoying the sensation.

"Can I ask you something?" Angel said.

"Sure."

"Do you think I'm repulsive?"

Anthony's hands stopped. "Why do you ask? You would just read my mind anyway."

"I'd much rather hear your answer, whatever it may be. Just be honest."

Anthony paused for a moment, and then went back to washing Angel's back. "You're beautiful. Just... different."

When Anthony finished her back, Angel turned around. She had a very genuine smile. "Thank you, Anthony."

"You're welcome." Anthony smiled back at her.

"We'll find out who killed Bridget, I promise. I just need you to trust me, okay?"

Anthony nodded his head in agreement.

"Its late, and you need your rest for tomorrow. I can send you home."

"Send me home?" he inquired.

Angel stepped out of the shower, not bothering to dry off, and walked to the wall where they had entered. She placed her hand to the wall and the portal appeared again -- only this time, Anthony could see his living room on the other side.

She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Anthony."

"Good night, Angel."

Anthony stepped through the portal and was standing in his own living room. The portal behind him vanished without a trace.

"Well, that's convenient."

Tired, he quickly turned towards the bedroom. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, full of uncertainty.