Alllright. First things first.
Esthrielle and EJ deserved a Christmas - they needed a Christmas. Lulu and Zofi were welcome to get their own kicks, sure... Purity wouldn't dream of stopping them, per se, but. They were a side mission, a bonus objective to the semi-sanguine seductress.
But. They were still, loosely as of yet, their friends and roommates. They were all gonna be sharing a single bed like some kind of fictional sapphic situationship-polycule amalgam. That was... Well, that was reason enough to help them get their affairs in order, and to do what she could to smooth the process of them finding work with the establishment's madame.
La Scission was more than crammed full of beautiful men and women who were more than happy to do whatever filth Khetnep directed them to, if only for an excuse to live off of Tsang's horrid grid. As Purity made her exit from the bedroom the next morning, she considered the situation her little group was in, and what they could even offer a woman like Khetnep - after all, the room and board were out of favor and courtesy, not obligation. Khetnep didn't need any of them.
Between the tax evasion, the murder, the prostitution, the drug sales... and so on, and so forth, one would imagine that the monolith of Tsang Solutions would have sighted in on this place decades ago. At least, that's what your average citizen would assume. After all, the blind, deaf, and dumb sheep of Vitus's huddled masses really seemed to believe that Tsang wanted to protect them.
Purity sneered as she stepped out into the hallway, her borrowed high-heels (procured from the closet, and therefore built into a pair of shiny ebon stockings) clicking against the hallway's stone paver floor. Fucking idiots, the lot of them. Stupid fucking idiots. In her time using Khetnep's little empire of shadow as her own staging grounds, Purity had learned that Tsang did, in fact, know about all the criminality in their own city. They were more than aware of where it was, who was propagating it, and how it could be stopped. If they wanted to.
But doing so would cost them bullets, cost them lives, cost them money, and time and effort and a million other things they simply didn't want to put out. The easier solution was a mutual profit; Khetnep and others like her were allowed to perpetually prop up their shelters of grim shadow and smoke and blood, and in return? Tsang got a funnel of cash, and sometimes, other things.
Purity rounded the final corner, bittersweet satisfaction resounding through her at the feeling of the catsuit she had donned - also 'borrowed' from the closet, but knowing the room and her own fashion choices even on her own? It was probably actually hers. It was tight, and a bit constricting... but it felt secure, and warm, and protective, and familiar. That was where the bitter in her sweet had come from, of course.
The staff elevator loomed before her. It would have loomed, actually, if it wasn't hidden to patrons by default. A beautiful oil painting, genuine and hand-made, sat all alone at a long stretch of wall nearest the patron elevator and stairwell. The topic depicted? A woman in the throes of lust with a tangle of other bodies, their faces concealed, like a serpentine mating ball.
Purity allowed a wry grin to slash her lips from edge to edge; she'd spent many evenings thinking that the woman in the painting was her, at least in spirit. The painted woman's hair was chestnut brown, however - and her tits, Purity thought with a bit of smug satisfaction, weren't nearly as nice.
The pinkette's right hand raised up now, slowly to give herself a few more moments of hesitance, before her middle digit pressed the bottom right corner of the painting's frame. There was a click as the button concealed therein pressed into the painting's gilt frame, barely a centimeter deep. She drew her hand back, standing as straight as she could, chest puffed out and ass pushed back. Again, natural - familiar.
The wall rumbled nearly inaudibly as the elevator was called, rapidly traversing from wherever it had last been. The staff elevator was a fair bit faster than the patron elevator, of course; longer times for clientele meant more time in the tainted air, and more time for the staff to slip them drugs. Less time for the staff, conversely, meant it would be quicker to get to a demanding client, quicker to flee a particularly abusive or dangerous client, and easier for staff that were off-duty to get to ground level and enjoy their free time.
Purity had always admired that about Khetnep: that she would think of these things. At least, Purity assumed Khetnep had taken them into account, and not some nameless engineer who had done all the work for her.
The rumbling ceased; the expanse of empty wall just beside the oil painting split down the middle, revealing the very elevator Purity and her girlies had ridden after leaving Khetnep's office. No one was inside - just how Purity wanted it. She didn't have time to meet and greet with any of the staff, not yet. She wanted to get this all settled before any of that could go down.
Click-clack became thud-thump as she mounted the elevator's platform, pressing the button for the madame's office. It was cheekily labeled with a K instead of a number - and, as opposed to the numbers, many of which were worn down from use, the K was spotless. People rarely went to go see Khetnep of their own volition.
Ptschink. The button pressed in, and in a matter of seconds, the elevator had returned to the steel cocoon it was always meant to be. Somewhere, a distant motor hummed as the cables were worked. Khetnep's office wasn't even that far away from the fifth floor of the sinful sanctuary, and with less than a full minute of travel time, the elevator trundled to a stop and opened itself anew. Same foreboding unlit hallway, same lack of anything resembling human life, same...
Oh?
Purity's senses were far from those of a second-living. She only had certain vampiric parts, little mutated bits drawn out of a transhuman bloodsucker and proven to be compatible with one whose blood was red, not black. And yet, in her years working for Tsang and Khetnep and herself, she had learned to pick up on subtle tells in her surroundings and changes in the air, whether that be scent or sound. And right now, she could hear music.
The tender strikes of a harpsichord's hammer rippled thru the air, only audible if Purity held her breath and focused. She figured it must have been Khetnep - despite the modernity of her criminal enterprise, she loved to think of herself more akin to the mobsters and syndicates of centuries ago, who sipped cognac from crystal lowball glasses and spent their evenings reminiscing about 'the Old Country'. Harpsichord didn't strike Purity as particularly Egyptian, though, so the 'Old Country' yearning could be tossed away. Maybe she was just indulging herself?
Whatever. Purity drew in a breath she hadn't realized she'd been without, proceeding now to step into the hallway and closer to her destination. Khetnep's room was, without a doubt, the source of the music - and, as Purity got closer, a vestigial bit of her vampiric transplants flared up; she smelled blood, fresh blood, and raw meat.
Not nearly so intense as her little ghoulish girlfriend, no, but Purity's previous unease was completely swept away so that amusement might replace it. She knew what was going on, now... and while most people would have waited patiently outside, so as not to interrupt, Purity Alouise Francharde was not 'most people'.
Thump, tha-thump-thump. There was silence for a moment (disregarding the harpsichord, that is), and then the door unlocked itself without any further notice. There was no invitation in; there was no vocal permission offered, or entreaty to enter. There was naught but the implication of access provided. Purity was okay with that, though; God only knew she had worked off of implied permission for years, and with Khetnep? She knew it was the best she was going to get.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
A thinly concealed hand reached out with steady, measured pace, taking the knob in her palm and turning it with a similarly calculated pace. Too fast would get her mocked, or perhaps scolded, as it would imply desperation or entitlement in Khetnep's mind. Too slowly would, as well, deign punishment: Khetnep would perceive the entrant as too timid, or as a time-waster. Either way would set the tone of this conversation to a footing that Purity was far from keen on taking; they were both mistakes she had made before, more than just once. Her practiced motions opened the door and pushed it in, neither too hurriedly nor sluggishly, instead confident and precise in their action.
The other side of the door was revealed, Khetnep's sanctum laid bare for Purity's purview. It was literally the exact same as when she had last seen it, when she had initially introduced EJ, and Est, and Zofi, and Lulu. Khetnep was still in that damn black dress, the slinky one that was more like a silk sheet laid atop a marble statue than a proper piece of apparel. Before her was sat a gorgeous cut of New York strip, the outside seared to perfection - but she had already begun to dig in, and from the cuts Puri could see, it may as well have been holding hands with raw.
Puri strode forth with her head held high and her motions as fluid and confident as she could possibly make them. An unspoken command from the madame set the door to close itself in Purity's wake, and when it closed, the click of its lock spoke to how serious the two had both become about whatever was going to happen here.
"Purity... Please, sit. Well, I'd love to tell you to sit, but..." Khetnep broke the silence first, her massive, fang-toothed grin reminiscent somehow of a shark and a leech and a wood chipper all at once. More than those, though, it was the smile of a Cheshire cat who had the perfect prank to play on her newest Alice.
"Catnip." Purity nodded with a mixture of genuine respect and playful insincerity, her plush pink lips drawn into a tight smile. She stepped closer to her new(?) boss without delay, keen on making the fellow mischief-maker know that the game was afoot from both ends. Purity was thankful for the heels she had chosen, then, because with their help, she didn't even need to go on her tip-toes to set the shelf of her ass on Khetnep's desk before taking the offered seat.
Khetnep's eyes narrowed as she was reminded she was not the only predator in the room, and that Purity was more than willing to make this game one that two could, and would, play. Her smile never faltered, however, and her left hand - free of blood, unlike the right - reached out to give Purity's thigh a squeeze.
"I left your old suit in the room on purpose, you know - I'm glad you found it. Looks just as good on you as it did back then, though we both know you won't be wearing it in the same capacity - and neither of us would want you to, anyways." Khetnep's smile softened, allowing the 'Catnip' moniker to go by unpunished. Her hand retracted, going down to rest casually in her lap, atop a cloth napkin stained well with old blood.
Purity's smile widened, her teeth now exposed in all their perfect ivory color and ideal, medically-ensured positioning. "Agreed. I can't see myself sucking strange cock in a dark room with a camera in my face ever again, you know? I've learned to bite since I was last in La Scission."
She winked, eyes now locking with Khetnep's own unnatural yellows. The madame immediately burst into a momentary spate of laughter, nodding amicably and shutting her eyes as mirth overtook her. "Good! Good, good... You're a smart woman, Purity, and beautiful. You deserve more than all this - but we all do what we have to, to survive. Sometimes that means selling videos. Now, ahaha, ah... What brings you to my inner sanctum? This about work?"
Sharp as ever, Purity remarked, thought ringing within the confines of her mind. Very little got past Khetnep, especially not things related to money, or business. Puri's eyes flicked away from her former and future employer, down to that hunk of nearly-raw meat that sat between herself and the other woman. She reached down, slowly enough that Khetnep could have stopped her if she wanted to, and took the New York strip between her thumb and forefinger. The meat was raised, the mouth was opened... and, as perfect first-living incisors split barely-cooked muscle fibres, the throat drank the juice that followed.
Purity chewed the stolen piece of meat for a few moments, the main body of another person's dinner returned to its rightful place in the meantime. The flavor was, of course, fantastic: the rich umami of beef, like blood and metal and sharp blades and deep dark earthen things, mingling with the herbal love of the rosemary and the electric thrill of garlic. It was tender enough to be chewed and contemplated, but was anything other than stringy, or tough.
Purity swallowed.
"Yes. Work. For myself... and for Lucretia, and Zofia. They'd like to earn a buck. Est, too, but... I'm going to be more picky about what work she does." Purity reached lower, now, her juice-damp hand coming to a rest on Khetnep's lap. Fingers and palm set into motion, wiping themselves clean on the cloth napkin that lay below them, though they were anything but shy about pressing just a bit more firmly than was necessary.
She returned to a full sit, hand now clean and dry, the juice of stolen meat sitting in a thin, glistening layer over her lips. From her raised position she cast a sultry look down at her boss, teeth put away but plush lips still worked into a cocksure smirk. Khetnep simply stared up at her for a few seconds, smile plastered on her face more out of obligation now than true amusement.
"Fuck, Purity. Don't... Don't do that. You're kinda scary like this, you know?" Khetnep's grin was bolstered by true mirth, and she chuckled to herself and her guest. "You've got four other girls cooped up in your little love nest, and from what I'd guess? You can take your pick of any fucking one of them, at any time. But. Work, work, let's talk work."
Khetnep's husky bedroom tones weren't quite so resonant or domineering now, though Purity couldn't help but feel that she was allowing herself to be on the back foot for Purity's benefit - maybe it was a play to boost Purity's confidence, to get her back at her peak. The vampiric drive for power and control wasn't something that only vampires felt, but Purity knew that she had become notably more controlling, and dominant, in the aftermath of Judas's ministrations.
Khetnep leaned back in her chair, at least as much as one could truly lean in such an object. "Zofi. She's perfect for guys who want to try getting bitten, but don't want the scare of actual, potential ferality. Lulu? Girl's got a great look for a dancer, or for any back-rooms work... Or, I think we could have her on the first few floors, really play up the idea of a girl that you took home from the club to screw in a no-tell motel. You know?"
Purity's smile became notably restrained, the flame in her chest taking some drops of water at Khetnep's proposition. "Ah, Catnip. I don't... I don't think I, or they, want to be in that line of work. Zofi would be terrible at it, she's like a fawn without her mommy, and... Like, yes, I get some people are into that, but it wouldn't be pretend abuse. She'd actually be in Hell."
Purity let her smirk fully descend, then, the image of a crying and bruised Zofi forcing its way to the forefront of her mind. La Scission's madame responded with a nod, now steepling her fingers. "Yeah, I can see that happening. I'm somewhat glad you shot the idea down, honestly - especially since, girls with robot bodies? If a rowdy fuck punches or slaps either of them, we'll immediately have serious problems. Hmm... How about this, then?"
Khetnep's grin drew in what mass Purity's own had lost. "Let's get them doing video work, yeah? Strictly with one another, or alone. No strangers... No dangers... Just two girls who know each other really well. And, aha, seeing the way Zofia was about Lulu when I met them? She'd drip at the idea, I'm sure."
Purity sighed, turning away from the madame for a moment. Yes, the two women were... more than just 'friendly' with one another, with Lulu always leading the charge. But, were the two women really like that? Zofi was potentially just curious, and Lulu seemed to get something out of the teasing alone. It was hard to tell if there was genuine interest or desire... Purity knew what it was like to be in Lulu's position, flirting and playing around for the simple gratification of doing it, and being rewarded for it. She didn't want to jump any guns.
"Ahh... I'll field the idea to them. You sure there's nothing you'd need in any of your other business ventures?"
Khetnep pondered Purity's question for a moment, this time hers being the smile that faded down a few notches. Finally, she nodded decisively, eyes shut and grin renewed. "Yeah. I could maybe have them run BD's, or be hired muscle for my less secure establishments, or just fucking kill people I need killed. Tsang's been really uppity about shit recently, especially with the Revenants and Knights upping their activity in the city."
She looked up, then, her lemon yellows meeting Purity's icy blues before she continued her thought. "Might be a bit of an ironic stroke of poeticism to have two - or even three - former Knights of St. Lazarus them-fucking-selves sifting heads on the execs that are giving us lowlifes heat..."
Purity nearly fucking squealed. These were women who had been designed to do exactly that - like, trained for countless years and mechanically augmented in a fucking lab by some of the richest bastards in the ERFS, specifically to be professional killers. Sure, there was danger with it, but there was danger with their entire life right now. And besides, hadn't she and Est and EJ all agreed they needed, and wanted, to get back at Tsang?
Sure, they were technically underworld contracted hits to destabilize legislative power structures. But that was revolution in its own way, right?
Purity certainly thought so.