Within the single green ring, encircling the blue
planet, was a tiny red rocket ship focusing its thin yellow
laser beam at the comparably huge blinking pink letters that
spelled out, "G-A-L-A-X-Y--D-I-N-E-R". The tall middle-aged man
glanced over his shoulder toward where his chauffer awaited
with his vehicle, despite knowing it was too far away to be
seen. He was torn between access to a ready escape from the
gutters and alleys of the baser side of the city, or
maintaining his anonymity. In the end he decided he did not
want anyone to know he had been here, so had left his driver
and automobile a few blocks away. It never occurred to him that
if he had driven up in his very expensive car, he would have
been putting himself in a very different kind of danger than
A figure emerged partially from a darkened doorway as
he walked hurriedly past it, proffering crude acts in exchange
for money. Despite the heat and humidity of the post storm night,
he pulled his suit jacket tighter around him and crossed the
slick black street. His hand slipped into the jacket, his finger
tips lighting caressing the holster of the gun at his belt. He
did not really know how to use the thing, but how hard could it
be? Point and shoot. He hoped he would not have to use it, but it
made him feel more secure having it on his person. Quickening his
pace, he pressed by group leaving the diner, wondering why on
earth she had insisted that their meeting had to be in this
place. Pressing the door open with his shoulder he entered the
flickering, sickeningly bluish fluorescent light of the dinner.
Despite the late night crowd he spotted her
immediately. She had chosen to sit a booth in a corner of the
metal tube of a restaurant. The lights directly over that corner
were out, so the only illumination was the yellowish tinge of the
streetlights and the neon glow of the sign, filtering through the
window. She was seated in a fashion that allowed her to see the
doorway, the whole of the diner, and out the windows. It was the
later that currently held her gaze. A ceramic mug of steaming
coffee was enveloped in her hands, as if it were a precious
elixir vital to her existence, her red hair was pulled back in a
stark French braid, and a set of wire-framed glasses rested on
the bridge of her nose, even though he was fairly sure she did
not need them. She was dressed pretty much the same way she had
been when he had first met her, in a men's white button down
dress shirt, black silk tie, leather pants, and high heeled
boots. The tie had been loosened and enough of the buttons of the
shirt undone to make it clear despite the male clothing she was
very female. A nicely tailored jacket was draped over the seat
beside her, a fedora tossed atop it.
As she stared contemplatively out the window, her
lower lip protruded slightly. Not the first time since he met
her, he contemplated running his tongue along that lip. His eyes
wondered from her full lips, down to her décolleté. He blushed
slightly as she turned cool blue-grey eyes on him, catching him
in the act of ogling her cleavage. The fact that this woman, who
was under his employ could make him feel embarrassed irritated
him, so when he spoke it was with an air of more than a little
annoyance. "I am here. What do you have?"
Her expression was bored and unimpressed, as she
pushed the oversized envelope, in front of her, across the table
to him. He fumbled to open the package, growing ever more
irritated at how this woman made him feel like an uncoordinated
dolt. Didn't she realize how important a man he was? And if she
had done her job right, he would soon be even more powerful.
The contents of the
envelope spilled out onto the table. He spread out a few dozen
pictures of his wife and his business partner in flagrante
delicto, a micro-drive labeled as containing transcripts of
emails and messages between the two, as well as a printed out
copy of phone and text records.
"Everything you need to
have them arrested and take over the business and personal
aspects of both of them. Soon you will solely control half the
commerce in the megacity, as well as be the possessor of the
largest fortune." Blaize informed him.
Her voice was deep and
sultry and made him want to bend her over the table and have his
way with her right here in front of the unwashed creatures of the
night. His irritation was beginning to bubble into rage, and he
knew he would more than enjoy raping this bitch and making her
his obedient pet. She frowned at him, as if she had heard his
thoughts. He did not care. In a month's time he would be the most
powerful person this slut had ever known and she would be begging
to suck his dick. The thought bolstered his ego. "You have done
well. As soon as I show these to my lawyers they will be
arrested. They will be stoned to death before the month is out."
He could not help but grin at the idea of having a large party,
so that he and all his friends, clients and fellows could watch
the traitorous cunt and her equally treasonous piece of ass
stoned to death, in vivid live broadcast on television. Or maybe
it would be better to be seen as the tortured betrayed husband
and business partner, on sight as the two people closest to him
were put to death for their crimes. "Soon I will be a widow and
free to take on any fuck toy that catches my eye." He looked at
her with an expression that often brought the woman in his
offices to their knees with wet panties. Blaize just focused her
cold gaze on him and said nothing.
He went from horny and
power-hungry to pissed-off in less than a second. "I need to get
out of here." He tried to gather all the evidence up and put it
back in the envelop, but was too frustrated, finally giving up
and just tucking it all under his jacket, holding it in place
with the pressure of his arm on it. "Why the fuck did you pick
this place anyway?"
nonchalantly. "It has the best coffee in the
For some reason he could
not put his finger on, this answer made him even angrier. "Our
business is done. You payment is in the account you gave to my
people. Do not try to contact me again." He tried to sound
authoritative, but her gaze had already shifted back out the
window, as she sipped her coffee. He no longer existed in her
Blaize watched the man
leave out of the corner of her eye and heard him cursing her as
he went. The laws of this world were very free minded in some
ways but very strict in others. Prostitution was perfectly
acceptable, however adultery was a killing offense. The "victims"
of this egregious crime were awarded all business and personal
assets of the perpetrators. In this man's case his business
partner had no wife of his own, therefore the only "victim" was
he. Or that would have been the case, if he had been able to keep
his dick in his pants instead of in the mouths of young male
escorts, and Blaize had not sold those pictures to first his
business partner a hour ago, and then to his wife a half a hour
ago. The wife was a talkative one, even though Blaize did not
join in the conversation, and for a bit Blaize was worried the
husband would arrive before the wife shut up and left. All three
of them would be dead before the end of the month, and Blaize
would be 1.5 million credits richer. Not that the money mattered
to her. What need of a daemon for money, especially when she was
so rich in multiple worlds of the omniverse that she could not
spend it all in 10 lifetimes; even a life as long as hers could
prove to be. She did it for the adventure. Blaize was easily
bored and she did so hate being bored. Therefore, she was
constantly finding new ways to entertain, amuse, and intrigue
her. Soon it would be time to leave this world, before she
started to find it dreary.
"Another refill, Hon?"
The waitress asked through a carefully practiced beaming smile
that did not reach her tired eyes. People who lingered for over
an hour and only had a single slice of pie and several refills of
coffee rarely left good tips, but she had hopes, after seeing the
three well dressed people meet with this woman, that would not be
the case this time. She normally worked the lunch into dinner
shift, but Betsy had called in, so she had stayed on to pull a
double. She needed the money, but her feet were protesting loudly
at her. She remembered the girls talking about a woman with
bright red hair coming in late at night and drinking coffee and
leaving large tips. She was hoping this was the woman. She tried
not to fidget as she held the hot coffee pot and
Blaize set her mug down,
sliding it toward the waitress, with a nod. Not the best waitress
she had had in this place, but she was at least smart enough to
keep her distance when the clients were here, courteous enough to
not bother Blaize with idle chitchat, and competent enough to
keep the coffee mug filled. The woman filled her cup and left,
without another word. Blaize was grateful.
Out the window, a large
brightly dressed and eclectically styled group of young people
came laughing and dancing out of a club across the street. One of
them pointed to the diner, and they all headed like jocular
lemmings this way. She had seen the group before. They were
regulars at the club and always livened the place up a bit when
they came tumbling in like the jesters of the night. Blaize was
not quite in the mood to play with the jesters tonight, but they
were a better choice than the killjoys that had been filling her
night thus far.
The diner became
significantly louder upon the entrance of the group. Their
laughter seemed to be an entity in and of itself, as it spread
out to every nook and cranny of the restaurant, filling the
grease heavy air. A girl clad in a torn silver costume, with hair
almost as red as Blaize's, road the back of a male with clover
green hair and matching clothes and make up, as if he were her
horse, complete with simulated riding crop movement and
accompanying sound effects. They slid into the booth next to
where Blaize sat, and were immediately followed by quiet dark
haired male in dark clothing and his eyes downcast, and a
boisterous, muscular young man, in torn jeans and a mesh shirt,
who stepped onto the table and began to recite poetry at the
patrons of the diner, until one of the waitresses shooed him off
of the table.
Blaize was looking out
the window again, when she felt one of the young people slide
into her booth beside her. She could guess which one it was
before she turned to see, even if she could not recognize the
girl's scent before she even entered the building and had seen
her among the group. Her name was Trixie and she swore it was her
given name. Very few of the jesters used their real names. For
instance, mesh top and muscles was known as Philosopher. The red
head in the silver was Token, because she was a shiny thing. The
quiet dark one was Mute, because rarely spoke and seemed to only
be around to give Philosopher head now and then. Clover man was
called Twisted, though Blaize did not know why, and was not sure
she wanted to know.
Trixie was 24 years old,
very pretty, but in a cute kind of way, not in a striking mature
kind of way, and had a serious crush on Blaize. Her father was a
powerful businessman and politician who lived halfway across the
world. Her mother was the heiress to a large fortune of old money
and had her own very popular, very expensive fashion house.
Anyone who was anyone owned at least one piece from Trixie's
mother's collection. It was her mother's penthouse in the
megacity where the young lady stayed, along with several of her
wrong side of the tracks friends. She was a very intelligent
girl, but she was still very much rebelling against her parents
upper crust life styles and money to realize that she could do
more with that intelligence than find new and interesting ways to
get in trouble and then use the same money she was rebelling
against to buy her way out of it.
Trixie took the mug out
of Blaize's hand and set it across the table, and Blaize let her.
The girls slid onto Blaize's lap straddling her. The hair colour
du jour was electric blue. The make up was in cool tones and
highly glittered and shimmered. The lips, pouting prettily at
Blaize, were deep indigo, and the cool tone theme continued into
the clothing - what little there was of it. "Blaize…" Trixie said
in a singsong, making the word three syllables long. She was
leaning back slightly causing her pert breasts the thrust
forward, the blue tinted nipples seeming to be straining to be
released from the transparent plastic top into Blaize's mouth.
Her far too short skirt hiked up as she began lighting grinding
her pelvis toward Blaize, making it very obvious she was wearing
nothing beneath it, save the garters holding up the silk
stockings. One hand was playing with Blaize's hair and the other
was holding onto the spiked heel of her metallic blue, knee
length, boots. "Do you like my outfit tonight,
"It is very nice,
Darling. Suits your new skin tone and eyes very nicely." When
Blaize had first met the girl her skin had been cappuccino
coloured, which she enhanced with a golden shimmer and her eyes
were jet black. Now the skin was so pale it almost looked like
porcelain and the eyes were nearly the same shade of blue as her
hair. On this world, changing such things was as easy as changing
Trixie squealed in
delight. "You noticed!" She hugged Blaize tightly, her breasts
trying very hard to suffocate the other woman. She pulled back a
little to say, "I am glad you like the outfit. I picked it out
specially because it will look very good on the floor next to
your bed." She leaned in and pressed her lips lightly against
Blaize's and when she suffered no resistance, she kissed the
redhead deeply, her tongue easily snaking into Blaize's hot
mouth, and her body reacting by pressing hard and undulating
Blaize let the kiss
linger for a few minutes, and then she broke it and gently
pushing the younger woman away from her. "Very nice, Darling, but
we have already discussed his." Blaize found it very disturbing
that since Blaylok had walked back into her life, she had found
herself turning down every potential lover. In her head she
sighed and thought, "Oh little wolf, what have you done to the
Big Bad Blaize?" Perhaps it was as simple as she had yet to find
another potential lover who she thought would satisfy as well as
the male half-demon. She hoped it was that simple, because
otherwise things could get very complicated in Blaize's personal
Again the pretty pout.
"But I love you, Blaize. I mean I am deeply and desperately in
love with you! I would do anything for you.
Blaize smiled. "And next
week you will be in love with the latest big pop star and the
week after that your body guard and the week after that whatever
new person catches your eye.
Trixie's brow furrowed.
"Why don't you believe me?"
Blaize laughed and opened
her mouth to answer, but was distracted before words escaped her
lips. A very familiar feel and scent drifted to her mind and
nose. She lifted the club femme off her lap and sat her down on
the seat beside her so she could see the doorway better. A few
seconds later, a tall, handsome, muscular man walked through the
door. He wore a shirt very similar to Blaize's (which he probably
gotten from her closet) tucked into worn jeans and had his golden
blond hair pulled back in a tight braid, also very similar to
Blaize's. He turned bright blue eyes to Blaize and began striding
"Oh my wet hot pussy! Who
is that thoroughly lickable piece of meat?" Trixie exclaimed as
she saw Konnor coming toward them.
Blaize chuckled. "That is
Trixie's head swiveled
around sharply, looking at Blaize in Shock. "How old are
Blaize ignored the
question and instead asked her son, as he sat across from her and
gestured for the waitress to bring him coffee like Blaize's,
"What are you doing here?"
Konnor tried to look
hurt. "Aren't you glad to see me?"
"Always," Blaize smiled.
"Why are you here?"
Konnor smiled brightly
and Trixie actually squealed a little. "Can I not want to simply
get a cup of coffee with my mother?"
Blaize maintained her
pleasant smile. "Konnor, why are you here?"
"I was bored," he said
with a shrug. "Finding you was the quickest way I could think of
to find excitement."
"Ah," Blaize said,
satisfied that he was telling her the truth. "Where is
"Little sister is
spending quality time with her father."
Blaize nodded, only a
small tinge of longing coming to her heart at the mention of
Blaylok and their daughter. "I am afraid you will be
disappointed. The excitement I was up to is pretty much over." A
thought occurred to her. "But you should meet Trixie."
The girl giggled and
waved at Konnor who flashed a crooked smile at her. Blaize ran
her credit card through the slot in the table and made sure to
add a large tip for the waitress. She tossed her card to her son
and then shooed Trixie out of the booth so she could get out.
Once standing she lifted the club femme up and set her down on
Konnor's lap. "Have fun, children." She said as she leaned over
and kissed her son motherly on the forehead. She retrieved her
jacket and hat and walked away. Once outside in the warm, damp
air she breathed in the sharp dirty scents of the city and
wondered what world she should dimension-walk to next. Tossing
the jacket over her shoulder and placing the fedora jauntily on
her head, she started off whistling "Singing in the Rain", even
though the rain has long since stopped.
She took no more than a
dozen strides from the dinner when it exploded behind her. The
half fire-demon part of her reacted instantaneously, protecting
her from the heat, but the blast and debris, brought her to her
knees. Explosions were going off all over the megacity, the
largest of which was on the 13th floor of the Corpocon
building - the exact location of the nearest hidden
trans-dimensional portal off of this world. At first Blaize
panicked that she might be forever trapped in this place, but
that panic was soon replaced with a much larger and intense one.
Konnor. Her son was in the diner!
Her eyes frantically
searched through flame, rubble and dust, until she saw the golden
glow of light. She allowed herself to feel slight relief. She
should have known that the son of two half demons was tougher
than to be taken out by an explosion not even large enough to
take out the entire diner. Pulling herself to her feet, she
rushed back into the diner, entering through the semi-truck sized
hole that used to be the front of the building. In the back
corner, where she had sipped coffee and met her clients earlier,
were Konnor and the club kids, a bit battered and shocked, but in
fairly good condition. He had kept the greater part of the blast
from hitting them. Making her way through the dead and dying,
stepping over the charred corpse of her waitress, Blaize hurried
to Konnor, hugging him tightly.
"I am ok, Mother. But I
won't be if you squeeze the breath out of me," Konnor said, so
nonchalantly, one would have thought it was a normal occurrence
for cities to explode around him. Blaize eased up and stepped
back a pace. The found of more explosions could be heard over the
screams of the injured. "What is happening?"
"I am not sure," Blaize
answered, "but it is not good. And I think it would be a good
idea if you and I were gone before the authorities get
Konnor nodded, not
needing explanation to know what she meant. The city was under
attack, and to be two unexplainable 'aliens' found in the thick
of it, would not bode well. Not that the two of them could not
take out any officials that tried to take them, but they were not
here to wage war on this world. Resistance to being taken would
be seen as proof that they were up to something, and allowing
themselves to be taken could mean death, or worse,
"I am coming with you,"
Trixie said, clinging tightly to Konnor's arm.
"No." Blaize said
"You can't stop me from
coming! If you leave, I will just follow you!" Trixie's voice was
a little shrill and slightly hysterical. She looked as if she
were going to wrap herself around Konnor and hold on for the life
Konnor looked at her then
turned his gaze to Blaize. "She will follow us and end up getting
herself hurt or us caught."
Blaize rolled her eyes.
"Fine, she can come, but she is your
"Let's go." Blaize said,
wondering into what the hell they were about to