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He liked the name James. It was not his name, though Prince Asmodeus was rather gaudy for the Meridian Plane. He certainly liked how Ling said it. Definitely an intriguing human.

Being what he was, devouring one's soul was not the only way to get information. It was the quickest, though it was rather irreversible for the victim who became no more. His shell, for example, the sinner who had killed two women, had given up all his secrets upon his soul being devoured, but now the human James was no more. The only thing left behind: his pretty shell.

He could influence minds; his preferred method being what he ruled over. Lust loosened lips after all. Though he was able to regulate the carnal impulses his aura compelled from others, perhaps he could cheat a little when it came to the lovely little rouge-haired human sitting next to him. Until Ling came along, James had been drifting with a mere single-minded purpose. Not that devouring souls and hearts that would've been condemned to the King's domain was not enjoyable, though it had become somewhat lacking recently. A year on this plane and James had tarnished so many souls without even having to leave his club.

Humans, the demon reflected, smiling to himself. Such lecherous little animals. He barely even had to try half the time.

He found himself enjoying challenges though, and Ling had certainly been that thus far. Which was why James had been hesitant to use his influence over this particular human. Why ruin the game? Ling was a dazzling and captivating enigma, one that would look good crying and begging underneath him.

That would be too easy though. So James would unearth what exactly Ling was through other means. And after all, sometimes it was more pleasing to watch them fall to temptation without exuding his influence.

The dinner ran its course, turning into drinks, with James noting the various pairs of eyes sparing enamoured glances his way. Many were women, and James found it quite amusing to discern that several of those were also following the boy next to him with wanton stares.

James almost had the urge to offer a sympathetic pat on the shoulder to those women. He was quite adept in divining human sexuality – even if that went out the proverbial window when it came to setting eyes on the demon prince of Lust – and those women would have no hope with Ling.

Most left the tables for drinks, and James would've remained with Ling, though others stole his company. One of the more irksome aspects of wearing a human's guise, especially one that had become respected in business circles, was that you had to keep up appearances and converse with them. Normally, James didn't mind; he actually found the whole process fascinating most of the time, though he had a fun new project he wanted to focus on, and that fun little project was currently being used as a coat hanger by Zinnia Wright.

In the millennia he spent punishing sinners, combined with the ones he'd come across on this Plane, the demon thought it a fair evaluation that Ling was possibly the most perfectly sculpted human he'd seen.

His perusal turned to irritation when he noticed what was outside the window. What was Zahāk doing here? When James had told him to return once he'd found another, more appropriate shell, he didn't mean to literally show up at whatever event he happened to be attending at the time. Thankfully, though, his demon subordinate had the sense to fly up to the roof under the concealment of shadows rather than smash through the glass.

Excusing himself, James made his way to the roof to berate the idiot daeva.

"Your Excellency" greeted Zahāk with a simper and a dramatically sweeping bow.

"Oh shut up," snapped James. No one else would dare to mock him, though apparently, this idiot thought that being saved and befriended by a prince of the Inferno gave him teasing rights. James almost had the mind to sneak back into the Plane below just to throw the other demon on the rack. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been gone for days. I thought you might've missed me."

James scoffed. "Thank you for your concern, I've been utterly lost without you. I see you've found an even sturdier shell, Zahāk. I trust this one isn't on the run from the law?"

The daeva's face lit up. "It's Zeon now. Don't you think it suits me?" He preened like a peacock, motioning to his new shell. "And he has no record, I promise I checked this time. I found him in Chicago, an exotic dancer hired to perform a Magic Mike show, whatever that is. But the point is, I hit the jackpot. This human even hates the Empyral Plane almost as much as you."

Ah, that explains why this shell is wearing nothing but tight leather pants with an undone fly. Another reason he was glad Zahāk hadn't crashed through the window into the restaurant.

"And let me tell you, Your Excellency, when I say this Zeon isn't lacking in any way," continued the idiot, less preening now and more excited child gushing about a new toy they'd received. He approached James. "You wanna see?"

"I'll pass."

"Come on, even you'll be impressed."

"Zahāk—"

"Zeon. I like that name."

James looked up to the taller shell. "Zeon," he said, sighing in resignation. "As much as it pains me to admit, you are not as foolish as you appear. Why have you come here so urgently?"

The daeva shrugged. "You're missing out though. We used to have more fun, before you became so disillusioned." He slid a coquettish hand down James's suit, to his belt, though James narrowed his eyes.

Zeon stopped. "Fine, I was only playing anyway." His expression became serious. "I saw angels."

James's blood ran cold. He was not impressed. Angels visiting the Meridian Plane was not unheard of, though his subordinate wouldn't have bothered to bring it to his attention over a mere visit. "Where did you encounter the divine servants?"

"Don't worry, they did not notice me, though I sensed them on my way here. They had masked the aura of the Empyral Plane well, though I doubt they would've been expecting a demon to literally fly over them. I believe it was a Cherub, not that unusual, though they were meeting with a Virtues and a Dominions."

That was somewhat troubling. "Dominions answer directly to the Seraphim. So why are they here?" he muttered, then spoke up. "I'll look into it when I return. For now though, go, watch over the club."

"Will do. Say, make any headway Asmodeus? With Ling? I assume he must be here too?"

James caught another's presence; their heart pounding. He smirked, sensing who it was as they hurried away. "Ling remains an enigma. I'll uncover this little mystery, though."

His daeva took flight, again covering himself in shadow, with James watching those membranous wings rocket through the night sky.

Why, after all this time, were angels walking the Meridian Plane? James had been meticulous in ensuring no demonic imprint was left behind on his victims, so that the Empyral Plane, as well as his native Plane, would not be able to trace it. So it could not have been that which had attracted them. That, and there were no traces of other demons near his radius. Could that Dominions have come for a completely unrelated matter?

James did not like not knowing. As he had told his daeva though, there was little he could do right now, and there was no imminent danger, if it even did concern him at all. So James returned to the top floor, only to walk in on a certain vexing insect attempting to solicit his prize.

He shooed Isaiah away, wondering if Memphis would be terribly upset if James ate his brother's heart. It would probably be mostly gristle anyway. Even so, that bleach-toothed little worm was a waste of oxygen.

"Hmm," he nonchalantly observed. "At least you weren't propositioned at my club this time."

Ling eyed him, clearly wondering how to respond. "I think he might like you even more than me."

The moment James fully turned his attention back to the beautiful human, it hit him, that utterly bizarre, utterly otherwordly, and utterly spellbinding aura, permeating from Ling like a wave.

He stepped closer to the slighter man on pure instinct. What is this? James closed the gap between them, bringing his palm to Ling's cheek, though turning the hand to graze his fingers down the flesh he could've taken a bite out of then and there.

What are you, Zhi Ling?

"I realise it gets pretty crowded in your club," said Ling. "But personal space is still a thing in the outside world."

James snapped out of his fascinated daze, stepping back and effortlessly covering it up by pretending to pick something from Ling's collar.

"A feather. There were a few birds on the roof, so it must have attached itself to you there." He brushed the non-existent feather away as the embarrassed realisation dawned on Ling's face.

"I guess you saw me there then."

James nodded. Not annoyed in the slightest. As even if Ling had heard him, he and Zeon had been speaking a language indecipherable to humans. He was, however, somewhat bothered by how he'd been affected just then. Distraction was one thing, though complete absorption to the point of spacing out? That was very unlike James.

"I wasn't following you," said Ling. "I was looking for something and happened to hear you talking with someone. I wasn't really listening and left pretty quickly."

"I wasn't accusing you of anything Ling," he assured, then smoothly lied, "I had my phone on speaker. A particularly vexing issue was brought to my attention."

"Oh, is everything all right?"

"It's nothing I can't handle."

The human before him seemed to hesitate, and James wondered what lay on the other end of it.

"Uh, did you see anything out the window? I thought I saw something fly up to the roof, like maybe a drone, or a large bird or something?"

The Grand Demon and Prince of the Inferno stared at the human that was clearly something more. Because no human should've been able to see Zahāk when the daeva clocked himself in shadows.

James no longer considered this enthralling boy a pet project. Rare individuals from the Meridian Plane had preternatural sight, though that was only the case when it was bestowed upon them by the Empyral Plane. Though that didn't explain Ling's sporadic aura. Once again, James didn't know. He would.

"You know what? I'm clearly insane. Forget I said anything," said Ling, obviously trying to brush it off after misinterpreting the demon's gaze.

"Well then, perhaps we might both be insane, because I saw it too."

"Really?"

James leaned in again, as if to whisper something taboo. "I'm quite sure it was Wonder Woman. She must have been piloting her invisible jet."

A half-hearted push landed on his shoulder, and James allowed the impact to shove him back slightly. A closed-mouth grin contorted his face at the shorter one's scowl, though James could tell Ling was fighting back a smile of his own.

"You know what, Mr. Abel?" he finally said, after recovering himself. "You interrupted a pressing conversation between a certain Pell and myself." Ling purposefully – but not harshly – brushed past James, still stubbornly continuing as if to walk over to that bug.

And James couldn't help the hearty chuckle that shook up his ribcage. Whether it was from only Ling's joking show, or the fact that James would impale Isaiah through the eye socket if the bug attempted to touch his pretty little prize again, James wasn't quite sure.

"Ling," he instead called, imploring the other to halt and arch a challenging brow. "Speaking of propositions, I have one I'd like to submit." There was no way that he would ever consider letting Zhi Ling go free from his grasp now.

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Hey folks, just in case there's any confusion, I'm basing my angels on the three hierarchies, made up of nine classes in certain Christian theologies:

I have, however, swapped around a couple of the class "levels" so to speak (highest to lowest):

Upper Host:

1. Seraphim

2. Archangels

3.  Dominions

Mid/Lower Hosts:

4. Virtues

5. Thrones

6. Powers

7. Principalities

8. Angels

9. Cherubim

Lastly, I've based the Inferno Plane (Hell) on Dante's nine circles concept - I don't know if anyone's familiar with Dante's poem The Divine Comedy? I'll add a diagram from the poem next chapter.

~ Daci