The story of the FALLEN

6. Nakir

He walks down the street, ignoring all the people around him. His black on black clothes are nothing unusual here in London. He hardly gets any attention as it is. Everyone is too busy to look around them, to see what’s going on, to see him. That’s what he really likes about big cities: peace. No matter how filled with life a city is, nobody cares for anyone but themselves. He doesn’t need to use any of his angel abilities to hide, or change his appearance. Out here on the street, he’s just another busy guy rushing to get his things done.

That’s debatable, he thinks. He’s neither busy nor rushing right now. It’s too early for the demons to be out and he doesn't like to be cooped inside with the girls and their new obsession with reality shows. He likes his reality and he doesn't care about random humans making fools of themselves. He enjoys much more the open-minded views of humans in this century, especially the ladies. It was never this easy to get what he wanted and most easily accept it being just a one-time bang.

His current target is the Blue Lagoon night club. His new favourite hangout. He doesn’t mind the strobing lights and the horrible music, as long as they serve him premium whiskey and the girls keep on coming his way on their own. This is not about hunting, it’s just to scratch the itch and feel some pleasure. If they think he’s prey, he can let them live in the illusion for a few hours.

Nakir never spends two evenings in a row on the same floor of the club. He knows all the regulars by now and he tends to avoid them. Why repeat, if he can have a new willing body every night? He knows the gossip, he’s not blind either. He gets the attention in the club. He turns heads as soon as he walks in. He stands out from the sea of neon in his black clothes. He is like a dark beacon for all those colourful moths. It never lasts long, his solitude by the bar.

The bartender is one he knows well. The guy never asks anything. He only nods to Nakir and serves him his double whiskey, neat. Savouring the golden liquid, Nakir settles in and sighs. There is a change in the air. He can feel it. There is something brewing in the supernatural world and he wonders how many humans will be collateral damage this time? Not that he personally cares for them, but he doesn’t condone death without reason. There are only two reasons for him to kill. For food, or because the other person, demon or animal deserves it. He is the punisher, the collector, the angel of death. Eventually, everyone that crosses his path will die and he is the one to send them to Heaven or Hell. Mostly Hell lately.

He feels a light tap on his shoulder and turns around. The girl is barely legal, but that never stopped him before. If she got into the club, she’s for the taking. Long blond hair with dyed pink tips, a neon pink bra and a black mini skirt with sequins all over. Even in her five-inch heels, she only reaches halfway up his chest. Tiny little thing, but she’s cute. He has to hand it to her. She’s got the guts to touch him. That’s the most open invitation, yet.

“I heard about you!” The girl tells him. She’s shouting, but he can hear her just fine. He leans down to her to speak in her ear:

“I don’t do conversations. Your safe word is: No.”

“Love it!” The blondie responds. She even leads him to the table in the dark. Guess she means it. Who is he to deny her the pleasure? Zachariel’s favourite line: “to act in the best interest of humanity” has a very different meaning for Nakir.

He pulls the girl onto his lap and thanks the good spirits for the obvious lack of panties under that extremely short skirt. He thinks she must’ve planned this; she probably got a bit buzzed first to get her courage together. But he must compliment her on her ingenuity. It’s usually him that picks up the girls. This one turned the tables on him. And she doesn’t lack initiative either. She’s all over him. Kissing and nibbling and her hands found their way under his t-shirt. She’s like a small rabid animal, and surprisingly, he likes it.

He pushes her bra out of the way to bite her gently on the snowy peaks of her bosom. The girl’s skin is so pale he can see every vein in detail. Not healthy for her, he might get hungry and bite her. That’s just another problem he doesn’t need right now. Hiding bodies got old in the Middle Ages, so he dropped that particular bad habit. Killing his one-night stands kind of collides with the whole saving humanity spiel Zack got them to play.

Nakir shakes the bad thoughts away while kissing this little minx. She is a distraction, she is his toy for the night and then he’ll return her to the fold of her gossiping friends. Her soft skin and fresh scent are alluring, but he will satisfy his thirst by f*****g her. It’s not her time to die, yet. His fingers find the way under her skirt to discover she’s wet and ready. And a bloody virgin! So that’s why her scent is all so alluring. He’s too aroused to let her go now. He’ll give her a good time and spoil her for eternity.

He smiles at her glazed over eyes. She is in ecstasy and he hasn’t done anything yet. Maybe he should take his time with this one? The fire escape is right next to their table. The little green sign is giving it away. He knows those doors are not locked, but they are not connected to any fire alarm either. A small violation that got overlooked, but he’s happy about it. It’s dark enough in this corner that nobody will notice him spinning the little neon pink puff in his hands right through that fire door.

He carries the girl up two flights of stairs to the roof. More private and a hell of a lot more space up here. It is more dangerous for her too, but she doesn’t need to know that. Nakir likes the thrill of it, the adrenaline rushing through him, the dangerously thin line he’s walking now. It’s a rush that normally comes with fighting. It’s something he craves even more than this girl’s blood.

His coat hits the ground first and he lets the girl down gently. He licks her exposed skin to feel her shudder under his touch. She’s barely dressed, but he gets rid of the bra and skirt in one flourish. The stilettos can stay, they turn him on. Parting her legs to get more access to her delicate folds, he keeps kissing her. His fingers explore her core and make her squirm and moan. He'd make her scream before the end, so coming up here was a wise choice.

“Please…” The girl moans into his hair while he administers gentle bites to her breasts. She is so damn tempting, but he will only play with her tonight. No breaking her pale skin, no blood on his fangs.

“Patience, love. You’re not ready.” Nakir growls. He licks her neck while his fingers do their magic. He must get her body soft and compliant, so he doesn’t hurt her. An orgasm should do the trick, she’ll be nice and loose after that.

He curves his fingers just a little bit to get the effect he wants and her whole body rises up from the tension he created inside of her. One more flick of his fingers and she’s off the rails. He can’t have her screaming too loudly, so he kisses her again. Her soft lips are compliant and oh soo biteable. There is another set of lips he can kiss and bite and nibble on until he’s content. He lets her lay down again and slides down her body, kissing her as he goes.

Nakir buries his head between the girl’s legs and licks her hard. The time for gentle play is over. He’s aroused and he wants her badly. He pops the buttons of his black pants to free his c**k. She is soft as butter and only moans lightly. He glances at her face to see if she has passed out, but she’s watching him with her eyes wide open. That’s a good sign. He likes his women willing and conscious when he f***s them. He’ll go easy on her at first, to give her some time to breathe. So, he slides back up her body and kisses her breasts on the way. A rough kiss on her mouth is to take her attention elsewhere while he pushes inside of her. She’s tight, but willing.

He pulls back while looking into her eyes. The little minx bites her lips when he rams back inside of her. She likes him being rough? He lifts one of her legs onto his shoulder. Her ankle is right at his face for him to lick the soft skin while he gazes at her eyes. Buried deep inside of her, he closes his eyes. He wants to feel every part of her. Her heartbeat, the blood running through her veins, the breath leaving her mouth, the shaking of her legs while she thrashes around in ecstasy.

He’ll get her off just once before he comes. A flick of his fingers over her clit should do it. He knows she’s close; he's been keeping her on the brink of orgasm since the very first thrust. He smiles at her, he knows what that does to young girls. His angelic beauty gets enhanced when he smiles. If he accidentally unfolded his wings right now, she could die from the overload. He puts a leash on his wings and makes her come. Playtime is over. The serotonin flooding through him makes him dangerous.

Nakir dresses the girl back up. She’s still out of it and floating on a cloud, so he carries her back down the stairs. He’s quite proud of himself right now. She’s still alive. He leaves her at the table they first occupied and strolls to the bar. A wink from the bartender makes him smirk. They all know why he’s here, they are probably running some betting game about him as well.

“You smell like eau de virgin.” Zack growls from behind him.

“You need to get laid.” Nakir responds. “Who made you the chastity police, anyway?”

“I just worry about you, that’s all.” Zack tells him.

“Right. You worry about them. You can’t lie to me, Zachariel.” He chuckles. “Why are you really here?”

“We have a demon problem.” Zack whispers. No one else will be able to hear him, but Nakir.

“What kind?” Nakir perks up. “And where? I’m ready to go kill something.”

“Minor Manticus demon from the looks of things. That is what killed Father Angus.” Zachariel tells him. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll tell you all about it.”