The guard at the gate was the definition of not much to look at. A pot belly, a smug look on his fatty face, his blue uniform and gold colored badge made him look like a caricature of the police officer he wasn’t. Raziel read the name. ‘Scott Teperson’. Albaer walked past the guard without a word, holding the door open to allow Raziel and Lialah to pass by.

“That’s unlike you.” Lialah said, leaning close to Albaer to speak after the door was allowed to slam shut behind them.

“A lot of things are unlike me.” Albaer said. He could feel eyes staring at the back of his head. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the guard they left behind. “I used to say hi to him. I said it every day, he even said it back. Most people ignored him, but I didn’t like being ignored, so I tried to be nice. Then a few months ago he just stood by while I got pushed around. Why should I bother keeping up appearances? I’m not. I won’t. Not anymore.” Albaer insisted, then clearing his throat he said...

“This way.” Albaer pointed toward a single tan wooden door in a dark walnut colored metal frame, a small rectangular window was above the doorknob allowing people inside to see out and outside to see in.

He opened the door, again allowing Raziel and Lialah to pass through ahead of him.

The first thing Raziel noticed was the low fuzzy gray walls that divided up the office, it gave each person working there their own space, various papers hung from tacks on the wall and what desks she could see were almost identical to those she was familiar with in her world. ‘Practical is practical, no matter the world, I guess.’ Though her eyes lit up a little when she saw the computers here and there.

At the front desk, they saw an older woman of wrinkled white skin and a swept over haircut that hung down over one ear. She had two pearl earrings and a sour look on her wrinkled face, as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. Her horn rimmed glasses might as well not have been there as the moment the old woman saw Albaer, she lowered her glasses to get a better look at him.

“You’re late.” She said, “Let me give you a tardy slip, young man, young ladies, I’ll get your tardy slips and then you can get to class.”

“Nope.” Raziel shot out immediately, and the woman froze before she’d even stood all the way up.

“What do you mean nope young lady? Do you think you can just flout the rules?” The old woman asked, her face was already turning red.

“If I’m not a student here, I can’t be late for things now, can I?” Raziel said and walked past Albaer to lean on the desk and fold her arms one over the other.

“You’re being rude.” Lialah said quietly, the old woman’s face was getting redder, her nostrils were flaring, she looked ready to explode, until Lialah spoke.

“Excuse my sister, it’s just… we’re new… she’s nervous, she gets brassy when she gets nervous… ah, Albaer… could you explain it?” Lialah put a demure hand on Albaer’s bicep, and as the old woman began to calm under Lialah’s tender act of meekness, he ran with the moment.

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“I brought them here to sign them up for classes. I thought they should shadow me for the day, they’re the daughters of... “ Albaer stopped speaking, cleared his throat, then went on, “one of my mother’s friends. They ran into a bad spot, so we’re letting them stay with us for a while. At least for a semester or two.”

“I-I see.” The old woman muttered, “Do they-” The old woman cut off her own question and fixed Albaer with a lingering look of disapproval.

He hung his head. “Yeah, they know. But it still beats homelessness. Look, can you just get them registered?”

“Fine. Fill these out, and we’ll need the documents provided to us by the end of the week or we’ll have to call social services.” The old woman pointed out and taking two brown clipboards from a drawer at her desk, she held them out to each of the two girls.

Albaer stepped back from the desk and sat on one of the cheap fabric covered office chairs laid out for visitors, it was old and not particularly comfortable, and his eyes kept watching the old white round clock on the wall.

Raziel and Lialah scribbled steadily on the papers, then handed them over within a fraction of a second of one another. “Your penmanship is awful.” The old woman said reprovingly to both of them, “You should both work on it, all important things happen on paper.” The old woman then set the clipboards down and began to type out the information to register them both.

Raziel however, could not resist, “I can see how important it is, and of course I will accept your advice for all it’s worth.” She wore a sweet smile on her face that the old woman completely misunderstood.

“Ah, so you can be polite, keep up that habit… Isadora.” The old woman said as if she were praising a puppy that performed a trick.

“I promise I will.” Raziel said with a broader smile, behind her, Albaer covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh.

The woman beamed a bit brighter, and Lialah moved to stand in the way of Albaer so the woman wouldn’t notice his struggle to not laugh. “Alright, Isadora Blackworth, Isabella Blackworth, you are both now students here, you can shadow Albaer Lamark for the day and learn how things are here. I’m sure back in,” she lifted up the clipboard, “California, you had a way of doing things. But here, we’ve got our own ways.”

Lialah caught sight of the woman’s name on her nametag, “Of course, Miss Karen.” Lialah hastened to answer before Raziel could get another jab in under the woman’s nose, she gave a pleasant little smile to the woman with a half downcast and deferential look, and the woman nodded in approval.

“You’ll be fine, now get going… I guess I can let the two of you off for today. But you,” Karen said and leveled a finger past the pair and toward Albaer, “I’ll give you a tardy slip to sign.”

Albaer rolled his eyes, “Sure, whatever.” He said and stood up to approach the desk, the woman scribbled out her reprimand and slid it across the desk for Albaer to take. He shoved it in his pocket and headed for the door.

“Nice one, Isadora.” Albaer said when the door closed behind them. His blank face was replaced by a budding sly little smile. “I wish I had wit like that.”

Raziel folded her hands behind her head and straightened her back, tilted her head up and preened a little, “It’s a gift, it’s true. But I also had to practice it a lot. Succubi have a reputation after all, basically anything physical is assumed to be just us being kinky. So I worked on my wit a lot, subtle or sharp, it’s a pleasure to play with… that… came out wrong.”

Albaer chortled while Lialah blushed at her sister’s forthright word games.

The halls were empty and so there was no fear of being overheard, so Albaer questioned them again, “So, you’ve got your backstories straight? And you’re sure you can handle the paperwork issue?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Raziel said and slapped him on the back.

“Yes… we can do it, however to be sure, I’ll have to do a few things… like what I did with Lisa, or close to it. But it will be fine.” Lialah said and when Albaer put his hand on the chrome door handle, he stopped to give her a cockeyed, questioning look.

“Trust us.” Lialah said and put her hand on his.

Albaer took a long, deep breath.

“I do.” He said, turned the handle, opened the door, and stepped into the first circle of his private hell with the angel and the demon following behind him.