She considered it. "It probably should. But I’m not naive enough to think I’m special just because I was first. This isn’t a relationship – it’s a transaction that happens to feel really fucking good."
[lissa’s Perspective: Pragmatic]
[No romantic attachnt forming]
[Ideal situation for repeat encounters]
"You’re handling this remarkably well," I observed.
"I’m good at compartntalizing. It’s how I survived my ex." She set down her coffee. "But I do have one request."
"Na it."
"When you’re in town, when you need another... session... you co to ."
I couldn’t help but laugh. "Deal. You’ll be my ho base."
"Good." She glanced at the clock. "You should probably go soon. I have a friend dropping by this afternoon, and explaining you would be... complicated."
"Understood." I set down my own mug and moved to where my ruined clothes from yesterday were still crumpled on her floor. "These are destroyed."
"There’s a thrift store two blocks down. They’ll have sothing."
She disappeared into her bedroom and returned with a handful of cash. "Take this. Consider it paynt for the best night of my life."
"I should be paying you," I protested, but she pressed the bills into my hand.
"Angels need money too. Besides, you saved from a lifeti of thinking diocre sex was normal. That’s priceless."
I kissed her then – deep and thorough – pulling back only when we were both breathless.
"I’ll be back," I promised.
"I know." She walked to the door, wrapped in just her towel, thoroughly ravished and not caring. "Be careful out there. And Cain?"
"Yes?"
"When you co back, bring your A-ga. I want to see what fully recovered angel feels like."
I grinned. "Fallen angel, but challenge accepted."
I left her apartnt, walking down the hallway wearing only the towel from earlier. A neighbor – middle-aged woman with a dog – stopped and stared. I nodded politely and kept walking.
Let her gossip. It wasn’t my problem.
The thrift store was exactly where lissa said. I found jeans, a black t-shirt, boots, and a leather jacket – all cheap but serviceable. Changed in the dressing room and paid with lissa’s cash.
When I erged onto the street, fully dressed and mostly recovered, I felt almost normal. Just another guy in the city. No one would look at and think "fallen angel."
Which was exactly the point.
[Status Update]
[Power Level: 2% - LOCKED]
[Fragnts Collected: 82.2/1000]
[Safe Haven: Established (lissa’s Apartnt)]
[Next Objective: Investigate The Crimson]
[Hunt bigger prey]
[Build your power]
[Prepare for what’s coming]
I pulled up the ntal map the system provided – sohow it had integrated with my divine senses, giving perfect navigation of the city. The Crimson was downtown, in the warehouse district. A 30-minute walk, or I could try public transit.
I started walking.
The exercise felt good, and I needed to get familiar with this world again. Last ti I’d been on Earth, cars were barely a thing. Now they clogged every street, and humans walked around staring at glowing rectangles in their hands.
Progress. Or sothing like it.
As I walked, I tested my restored abilities subtly. Enhanced hearing picked up conversations from blocks away. Enhanced vision let read license plates from across the street. Enhanced strength made every movent effortless.
At 2%, I was barely scratching the surface of what I could do. But even this fraction made dangerous.
The warehouse district was exactly what it sounded like – old industrial buildings, so converted to apartnts or clubs, others abandoned. The Crimson occupied a nondescript building with no signage, just a red door.
I could feel it before I even approached. The tingle of supernatural energy, wards and protections woven into the very walls. This was definitely not a normal bar.
A bouncer stood by the door – seven feet tall, muscles on muscles, eyes that glowed faintly amber.
Werewolf, if I wasn’t mistaken.
"Cover’s fifty," he growled.
"I don’t have fifty."
"Then fuck off."
I let a tiny trickle of divine energy leak out – just enough for him to sense what I was. His eyes widened, the glow intensifying as his wolf recognized a predator.
"Or," I said mildly, "you could let in, and we can avoid the part where I embarrass you in front of your employers."
He stared at for a long mont, then stepped aside.
"Start any shit, and I’ll rip your throat out."
"I’m sure you will."
I pushed through the red door into another world.
The Crimson was packed even in the middle of the day. The clientele was diverse – I spotted vampires, shifters, witches, even what looked like a few minor demons. All of them trying to blend in, to pass as human, failing in small ways only supernatural senses could catch.
The bartender was a vampire – pale, elegant, probably old. She clocked imdiately, her eyes narrowing.
I took a seat at the bar.
"What can I get you?" she asked, her voice carrying a faint accent. Eastern European, maybe.
"Information."
"This is a bar, not a library."
"Then whiskey. Neat."
She poured, slid the glass across. I sipped, letting the burn distract from the multitude of predatory gazes I felt on my back. Everyone here was trying to figure out what I was.
"You’re new," the vampire observed.
"Very."
"And very bold, walking into a supernatural bar dressed like a mortal, reeking of sex and human woman."
I raised my glass to her. "I like to make an entrance."
"You’re going to make a corpse if you’re not careful. We don’t like unknowns here."
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