Good Intentions by Elliott Kay Page A

descended upon him with bloodied blades. She waited patiently until they moved out of her way, then simply slipped past. Neither man paid her any notice. Lorelei threw the robe’s hood up over her head. It was easier to go unnoticed when one was genuinely inconspicuous. She calmly slipped through corridors and streets fil ed with pil age, rapine and much worse. There was a small well not far away. Just around the corner, beyond the three bearded Crusaders arguing over a dead man’s belongings. Lorelei walked calmly around them, remaining unnoticed by mortal warriors… …yet not by one of her own. They smell ed one another in nearly the same instant. Lorelei immediately resigned herself to the encounter as the blonde woman at the well looked up. She was dressed as a Frankish noble woman on a long journey, and clearly she had been. Any ordinary woman would have had no place in a city on its first night of pil age, but an ordinary woman wouldn’t have a demon’s wings and tail, either.
    She also had her interests. She had been standing near a bucket sitting on the edge of the well , and from it she drew a gold necklace and a dagger. The blood hadn’t entirely come off either trinket yet. “Lydia,” said Lorelei flatly, acknowledging the other succubus with a curt nod. The blonde’s face split into a predatory grin that touched her eyes and even her horns. “Lorelei,” she sang out. “What a pleasant surprise!” “Isn’t it,” Lorelei deadpanned. “You look radiant under that ragged blanket,” Lydia said. “Burlap suits you.” The succubus leaned in just a touch and inhaled deeply. “And you smell of a fresh triumph.” “You smell of several,” Lorelei shrugged. The statement carried no admiration. “Yes, well . I have found a good deal of low-hanging fruit with the Crusaders. The Pope has provided me with a veritable orchard.” Her grin turned sly. “A few more decades of this and perhaps my name will be spoken in the same breath as yours.” “Belial favors quality over quantity,” Lorelei replied indifferently. She watched Lydia coldly and warily. “I imagine it is a different game for the most favored of Baal.” “It is,” Lydia grinned. “Baal doesn’t have me out among the mortals endlessly trying to make up for lost ground.” She paused before saying, “He still misses you, you know.” Lorelei didn’t bother to hide the sneer. “You say that as if it should mean something to me.” “Doesn’t it?” Lydia asked. “Baal remains ascendant. Belial remains dimmed. Your name has not lost its luster, though. If I were to bring you back into the fold, we would both be rewarded. He would enjoy spending time with you again.”
    “I wonder if you understand what the word ‘reward’ means,” Lorelei said. The cheerful smile faded. “Don’t be cross. There’s no need to be unpleasant. We have so much in common.” “Yes,” Lorelei nodded. “We both wish to use the well .” Lydia glanced down at her bucket, then back at Lorelei. She stepped back and gestured for the other succubus to help herself. Lorelei stepped forward. She paused to look into the bucket, finding the water reddened with blood. At the bottom lay a gold ring. It was simple, undecorated and thin. It had the look of a common man’s wedding band. “Why do you seek baubles and trophies?” Lorelei asked. “Because it amuses me. I like my trophies. Don’t you keep any? I would think one as celebrated as you might take more joy in her work.” “It means little to me,” Lorelei murmured. She glanced over at Lydia, looking her up and down. “There is still blood on your sleeve, and your hand,” she said in a cool, disdainful voice. “I will leave you to the well . You have more need to wash than I.” She turned to leave without another word. Lorelei felt the angry, hateful eyes of the other succubus looking on, but it meant little. There was, ultimately, very little here that meant much at al . * Lorelei was