Chapter 14: The Truth of Lorelei...

"I can't imagine what a house like this must cost," Alex blinked. He sat on his motorcycle with his feet on the pavement as Lorelei dismounted. She was clad only in a pair of sweatpants, sandals and his leather jacket. She could have ridden invisibly, said she didn't need a helmet, but Alex didn't want her wasting her power. He also didn't want to get pulled over.

"It sold for several million not long after prices fell across the city," came Lorelei's nonchalant response. She handed Alex's spare helmet back to him without looking.

His motorcycle was parked on a winding, hilly residential street. Before them the ground rose up to a large house, still catching the rays of the setting sun. The garage seemed to have been dug into the hill so as to eliminate the need for a steep driveway. The only other access to the house was the cobblestone steps that led up the hill to the front porch.

Normally, Alex was reluctant to leave his helmets clipped to his bike. Seattle's wealthy Magnolia neighborhood seemed like it might provide a decent exception to that rule, however. Everywhere he looked were homes that he figured would never be in his price range. The one before him, though, took the cake on this street. It may not have been the swankiest thing in the whole neighborhood, but the owner had clearly done well for himself... or herself.

"Is this yours?" he asked hesitantly.

"No. Though I could likely arrange something comparable. Alex," she said, tilting her head towards him to indicate a change of subject, "I don't know if you should follow me inside. It may not be pleasant in there."

He looked from her to the house and then to her again. She hadn't given much detail on this "errand" that they were on. Alex had intended to take her shopping for decent clothes within the boundaries of his budget, and he was willing to sacrifice for her. Lorelei's happiness was well worth ditching his plans for what remained of his disposable income.

Instead, she had simply said that she had resources of her own they could reclaim with relative ease. She hadn't articulated what those resources were. It occurred to Alex that he could've simply asked, but if she really wanted to tell him, she would've. The whole thing bothered him more and more on the ride over. He wanted to trust her, and was inclined to do so, but this was uncharted territory for them.

Many things, he had to concede, represented uncharted territory.

"Do you think it will be dangerous?" The house looked deserted, but the garage was closed. No telling if anyone was inside and just being very quiet.

Lorelei gave it a moment's genuine thought, but shrugged. "No. That is highly unlikely. But again, it may well be unpleasant."

"How so? You haven't told me what's going on."

Hesitantly, Lorelei said, "This is where I was when that priest and his men summoned me in their ritual. One moment I was here, the next was in a summoning circle. You know the rest," she said, looking down at the ground for a moment. "I do not look scarred to you, but I am."

Alex reached out to take her hand. She didn't flinch, but didn't really respond, either. "My feelings for you are genuine, Alex, but I am also not what I was before we met. The only way to explain it is that much of my... darkness was used to fuel the ritual that ultimately bound us. Just as the priest said. It is gone now, likely forever. Clearly that had some effect on my own personal power as well. And as happy as I may be to be with you, I must admit that I resent being reduced in such a way."

"Inside that house, I was not so restricted. I had been fulfilling my purpose when I was summoned."

"And you don't want me to see that."

"I am worried that it will come between us, yes."

"Maybe we need to confront your past, instead? At least in some way?" His suggestion was gentle, but he could see the way it made her jaw clench. "Do you miss it? You still regret things, don't you?"

"My emotions are mixed," she admitted. "You should not mistake my feelings for you as some window into my soul, Alex. I am freer now as your slave than I have ever been, and despite my loss of power that is precious to me. I am grateful to you, and I feel genuine loyalty. Yet I despise my weakness."

"I care for you. I mean no harm to those who are close to you -- your mother, friends, associates. Nor am I randomly cruel... but none of that makes me a nice person. I am not much like you."

Silence held between the two of them for a long moment. Alex nodded toward the house. "Show me," he said finally.

The pair walked up the cobblestone steps to the front door, each filled with their own trepidation but resolved to face it. The doorknob was one of those keyless entry sets that Alex had only seen in office environments. Lorelei punched in the correct combination and entered after they heard the door unlock.

Inside, Alex found vaulted ceilings and finely made wood paneling. Everything was quiet. The floors had new carpeting, the heater was on... and there was a faint, unpleasant smell even in the front door. Something akin to a nursing home.

"Feel free to take anything you like," Lorelei said absently. "I suspect it won't be missed." She wasn't especially loud, but she didn't whisper, either. Alex simply followed her through the entrance and foyer to a spacious and well-furnished living room. Lights gradually rose as she entered.

"Lots of nice artwork," Alex noted.

"Much of this is overpriced junk," she shrugged, looking the living room over. "What you see here is the decor of a man who wants expensive artwork simply to have it. This is not eclectic; this is collecting for appearances. There is no sense of his artistic tastes because he has none."

Alex sighed. "I'd never have known that. This is why I worry about boring you. You're way more sophisticated than I'll ever be."

"Don't doubt yourself. You are far more interesting than you realize. Ah." Lorelei stepped over to a black glass coffee table that had been pushed away from the couch.

On the coffee table was a small purse -- Alex figured it for an expensive designer piece, but he didn't really know these things -- along with a small, discarded black party dress. And stains. Dried, white stains stood out across the dress and the coffee table.

Alex didn't need much imagination to know what had gone on here. He considered that as Lorelei reached over for the purse, ignoring everything else, and double-checked its contents. That Lorelei slept with many other men was no secret. She had doubtlessly been as dirty and shameless with those other men as she'd been with Alex. Probably dirtier, he knew, considering his youth and inhibitions. But he hadn't really given it much thought.

She had been on her knees here before another man. Had him in her mouth, like she'd had Alex. For whatever reason, she hadn't consumed everything he gave up... but the evidence left behind didn't amount to as much as what she could normally draw out of Alex, and she could bring him off repeatedly without rest. It stood to reason that she did so with her previous partners, too. So either she had swallowed this man's semen, or accepted it on her skin, or some mixture of both.

He didn't stare. It didn't take but a moment to conclude all this. What did require a few seconds was the search through his feelings that the moment instigated. Lorelei turned, looked at him and maintained a poker face until he looked back at her and shrugged.

"Are you bothered by what you see?" she asked.

He paused, wanting to ensure he answered honestly, and shook his head. "No," he finally decided. "Not especially. I guess it's good to confront this, but no. I don't think I'm bothered."

"Being told and seeing for oneself are entirely different," Lorelei said, her voice still devoid of emotion. "I am, as I have told you, born to use the lusts of others against them. I am a true slut. Whore. Choose your term."

Again, Alex shook his head. "Don't," he told her softly. "I don't like those words. Not used in anything but fun. They aren't fair."

"Fair?"

"A whore's someone who provides sex for money. That could obviously be rough business and I know it chews people up but I'm not going to judge. I don't see the crime in that. And 'slut' is a double standard. Why's it okay for men to have many partners, but not women? That doesn't add up. I want to get laid a lot. Does that make me a slut? Maybe, but more to the point, should I be ashamed of it? And if I feel that way about myself, should I feel that way about others?"

Her stony expression softened. "And yet you worry that you are unsophisticated... I hope you are being honest with yourself."

"I think I am," he nodded. "I admit you've changed my expectations, but I've crushed on girls who've been through more than a couple boyfriends. I wasn't going to judge on that. I don't think I feel jealous here... I don't know. Is it bad that I don't want you to be with other men? Unfair?"

Lorelei shrugged. "Perhaps if we had to hold ourselves to strict standards. But we do not. I am not bothered, as I have said. You are the master." A faint glimmer returned to her eye, along with that wicked smile. "And I am your slut." She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, and then her grim demeanor returned.

"There is more. You're sure you want to follow me?"

"I am," Alex affirmed.

She brought him through the living room to the staircase and began to ascend coolly. He followed, noticing the foul smells were getting stronger, but said nothing. They rounded the corner of the staircase, passed a bedroom furnished with everything but character -- probably a guest room, Alex guessed -- then a bathroom, then a room with nothing but a couple expensive exercise contraptions and a plasma television.

The stench was getting stronger. Alex had all too good of a guess of what smelled so bad.

At the end of the hall were closed double doors. Lorelei reached for the doorknob, looked back to Alex with grim resolve, and then pushed the doors open.

Inside was a dark, spacious master bedroom and the overwhelming scent of human waste and decay. Alex thought instinctively of holding his breath, then realized that was pointless and unlikely to last long enough. Lorelei went in without any hesitation or reaction. Alex decided he'd have to just suck it up, and followed.

He found a light switch and turned it on. The bedroom had a high ceiling and lush carpeting. To one side was a desk and chair; another side held a walk-in closet with sliding mirror doors. The far wall from the entry was all glass, with a sliding door to the balcony. An open doorway led to a bathroom fit for a rock star.

The bed was king-sized, with dark blue curtains tied to the posts. Clothing was scattered around the foot of the bed, some of it on the floor as if it had been tossed aside for effect. Slacks, a man's dress shirt, a tie. Lacy red panties and a bra.

Lorelei strode past the bed on her way into the closet, coldly acknowledging none of it.

The body lay in the bed, covered only by a silk sheet. He didn't look like an old man, but he was clearly older than Alex. His face was so drawn and pale that it was hard to tell. Eyes closed. Blond hair. A couple days' stubble. No shirt. An empty Evian bottle under one still hand. The pillowcase was stained with sweat, but the sheet that covered him was stained darkly at his hips with blood and fouler stuff.

"I thought..." Alex mumbled, stepping closer. He was unsettled, repulsed and yet he couldn't look away. He knew from everything Lorelei had said that this must be some vile, awful man, but all Alex saw was someone who'd died in his apparent prime. "I thought they were supposed to waste away?"

"Usually," came her indifferent voice from inside the closet. "Some push themselves too far too fast. The most egotistical are sometimes quicker to their end than others. He was especially foolish. He heard bones begin to crack and tried to laugh it off. I had no reason to argue his choices."

"Oh my God," Alex breathed. It was a common enough joke -- "what a way to go," someone would say if this were on television. But all Alex could see was an ugly, slow death. The man must have lingered in pain for a long time.

"What... what did he do?" Alex finally managed to ask.

Lorelei stepped out of the closet. He didn't look back at her, but felt her hand on his shoulder and her voice at his ear. "This is Raymond Cordingly. His fortune is built directly out of the life savings of others. He promised to shepherd them into a secure retirement and old age. The web of lies that he created and directed has left honest grandparents homeless and destitute. And by the time it all came to light, he had withdrawn from his company and arrayed such formidable legal defenses to his freedom and his fortune that your courts focused instead on his corporate dupes. Their involvement was comparatively minor and in some cases completely unwitting. Other accomplices escaped notice. Innocent workers lost their jobs to cover the cost of the company's legal concerns."

With that, she was gone. Alex didn't hear or feel her step away, but he knew he stood alone staring at Raymond's wasting face.

It was the sort of story that enraged him. He figured it would enrage any feeling person. But when Lorelei had spoken of her purpose and her victims, he had somehow imagined worse things. Murderers. Mobsters. Tyrants. Child molesters. Rapists. Not something like this.

Alex looked at the drawn, still face, and finally asked himself how stealing with lies and a smile and a contract was any better than doing it with a gun in an alleyway. A mugger might kill, but he might not... and either way, he wasn't likely to get away with the family home or anyone's college tuition.

"It would be a simple thing to transfer the bulk of his liquid assets to someplace accessible to you. He entrusted me with access. Concealing it would not be too difficult," Lorelei added from within the closet.

Alex blanched. Did she seriously want him to take this dead guy's dirty money? Was that what they came for?

Then the dead man coughed.