The dark corridor was a little too narrow for practicality, but I managed to squash myself into the corner beside the open door; just out of sight of the rooms two occupants should one of them happen to look up. Though I was certain that Shane and Evie were far too wrapped up in each other to notice me, it was no time for risk taking. I would need to check on how things were 'progressing', if you like – as if the sounds emanating from the room weren't enough – but a few quick glances inside were enough to tell me that the opportune moment to pounce hadn't yet arisen. I would have to wait, and endure, a little longer.

The rough, rusting creak of the bedsprings had increased in both volume and tempo. The sound ripped through my eardrums as if someone were strangling a glaring of cats, but that was nothing when compared with the noise that was, undoubtedly, coming from human lips. There were moans and gasps of delight, all sounded to be female, coupled with deep, gravelly utterances of every sordid desire and exclamation that could possibly come to mind. Even as a half-demon, with all of the things I had seen and heard in my lifetime, I could scarcely believe some of the things that spewed forth from that man's mouth. It made me cringe to hear from a distance, I couldn't imagine Evie found any of it the slightest bit appealing. Though if she felt any distaste at his words there was certainly no sign.

 I felt a small seed of reluctance start to grow in the pit of my stomach. Squeamish was one this I wasn't, but the thought of watching that man - bald head glistening, brick like body sweating and rampant, pug face contorted in sexual ecstasy – it turned my stomach.

 From my cramped hiding place I could see a corner of the bed, the sheets looking ever more tangled, and an occasional flash of pale flesh. It was enough of a sensory experience with the sounds alone, but that told me I had little choice but to move and look more closely. Evie's breath had started to come in ragged gasps as the pleasure she felt had started to mount. The time was drawing near, if Shane was going to kill her it would have to be soon and I needed to see him to know when to strike. There would be only a small window of opportunity for me to enact my powers of persuasion and only watching him very intently at the time would show me when that window opened.

 Slowly, I slid down the wall into a crouch – I figured if I was nearer to the floor I would appear less conspicuous in the doorway – and gently inched open the door a little wider. Shuffling carefully, trying to be as silent as possible, I moved into the light that spilled into the corridor. I tried to make sure I was as hidden as I could be and still have a clear view of all the action on the bed. It was show time, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

 Looking inside, properly for the first time since I'd found the room with the pair of them inside, my eyes were given a feast of milky white skin that blushed with exertion and shimmered with pin pricks of sweat. The yellow light from the lamp did nothing to flatter Evie's pallor, making her look sickly; her hair sweat matted and tangled. She already looked like death, perhaps my mind was simply projecting what I wanted to see back to my eyes but she looked like a corpse. Though corpses should lay still and Evie still writhed beneath her lovers body.

 Shane's broad, muscled back rippled with every movement; making a show of his physique and strength. It was almost as if he expected someone to be watching his performance, or perhaps all men were naturally show-offs during sex. Sweat dripped from his flesh, splattering onto the sheets, under the effort he was exuding. I wrinkled my nose, inching that small distance into the room seemed to have broken some kind of vacuum and smell was the third of my sense to be invaded by the act of their love-making.

 The stench of sweat and sex flooded my nostrils and I felt my stomach give a lurch. It was far from the most vile thing I'd ever smelled, I could handle scorched flesh, the latrine smell of fresh death, the stench of decay, all without batting an eyelid, but the whole sensory experience from that room had me wanting to spill my guts. It was the filth that dripped from him, oozed from every pore. Not physical dirt, but the filth of the soul, of every vile act he'd ever committed in his life slithered from him to culminate in an invisible mass all leading to one final act that would mean his end. But invisible wasn't really very helpful, I needed to be able to see it.

 I closed my eyes for a moment, took a slowly steadying breath, then opened them again and focused my gaze on the back of Shane's head. I pictured him facing me and aimed my stare at a spot that would be at the very centre of his forehead, where the third eye (or the Brow Chakra) was located. It was a little hard to judge from behind, particularly with the motion of his movements, but I made my best guess, picked a spot to focus on, emptied my mind and willed myself to see the energy field that surrounded his body. His aura, if you prefer that term, that was what I was looking for; the electromagnetic filed that surrounds everything, that was where my small ounce of demon magic was linked, that was my way inside.

 Aura manipulation, a colleague of mine had once called the power, but I never thought that was quite right. I couldn't change someone's aura as such, it was the changes that occurred as I watched that were the key to my power. The small amount of magic I did have from my demon blood let me reach out and touch a person's aura, figuratively speaking, and I could slip through that energy field and into their heads, into their thoughts. It was there I could plant my seeds of persuasion; in Shane's case I would make sure he killed Evie and handed his soul to me.

 A pale haze of colour hovered around the pair on the bed, a faint glow of blue, as I focused on bringing their auras into my sight. There was no magic involved at this stage, even the most mundane of humans can learn to read an aura if they put in the study. This was largely a part of why our hybrid powers were connected with them. Our human blood muddied the innate powers of our pureblood kin , they were free to read and manipulate minds as and when they pleased, we needed a key to get inside.

 With my gaze still trained on the back of Shane's head I cast my peripheral vision outwards, reaching along the blue haze of energy, and tried to pick out the true colours of their auras. Evie shone and delicate hue of rose pink with tinges of orange close to her head. Her aura looked like a sunrise, she really was a kind, compassionate soul and the pink also spoke of comfort and joy, while the orange of self-awareness and desires. She was truly trusting, and a terribly misguided soul too it would seem. I felt a little bad, I had pushed her into Shane's arms, given her that sense of hope and false insight into how she might get what she wanted and instead that hope and trust was going to kill her.

 Mentally I shook my head – managing not to make the action physical and breaking my concentration – Evie was not the focus there. I couldn't care about her, she was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good, for want of a better term, it was Shane that I needed to concentrate on.

 Shane's aura was far from pretty. It was a dark, muddy green that implied his possessive nature, his lust for power and control. And beneath the surface something glowed, the fiery red of aggression that was slowly burning brighter as it rose into vision.

 One particularly violent thrust threw Evie's head back. Her mouth flew open in a gasp, but it was the exposure of her long, pale neck – thin and vulnerable - that seemed to capture Shane's attention. I saw his hands convulse against the bedsheets and his aura suddenly glowed violently, red as hell-fire. He was ripe for the picking, he wanted to kill but, as I thought he would, Shane was fighting it.

 Red was the colour I needed, the colour of violence, aggression and the colour most susceptible to my 'manipulation'. A smile crossed my lips as I worked the first bit of magic, uttered the magic words if you like, only they weren't 'open sesame' – although the meaning was very much the same.

 “Intrant Sphaeram.” The Latin rolled easily off of my tongue – always such a popular choice for magical incantations – and I watched as Shane's aura thickened.

 The hazy light developed some substance, flowed like liquid – like blood – and appeared to be almost tangible. I didn't need to concentrate to keep the auras in my field of vision any longer, which was handy as I'd need all my brain power to penetrate Shane's thoughts, Evie, being in close proximity, was also affected by the spell but her pretty sunrise didn't call to my power. The violent red aura stole all my focus and I studied the way it enveloped Shane, draped and wrapped itself around his form even where his flesh melded with hers. I studied every inch of the scene on the bed until I could picture it clearly in my minds eye, a perfect imprint that I hoped I would later be able to forget.

 With my eyes closed I concentrated on the image. The sounds that came through the door kept them active and moving in my mind. I saw the colours that haloed their bodies and I called to the power harnessed in my demon blood, tempted it to rise with the promise of such a tainted aura to lay its hands on.

 The power rose in a rush and I stretched out metaphysical fingers towards Shane, hungry for a taste of his vile energy. The moment the power touched him was intoxicating, I wanted to taste that tainted energy, strip it away and swallow it whole. The taste of such a thing was powerful, addictive like a drug and the temptation was strong. To strip a human of their aura left them vulnerable, unprotected. In Shane's case that wouldn't really matter so much, but it would also mean I wouldn't be able to get inside of his head and persuade him to kill, so I resisted the temptation. Over the years my measure of control had grown considerably, and rather than taking the aura, like the power really wanted, I let it take me.

 The sensation was always mildly unpleasant, like being swallowed whole, as I allowed my consciousness to feels its way through the field of energy and into Shane's head through the point where the Crown Chakra lay. It opened easily and allowed me inside where I started to feel around in his thoughts.

 It never failed to surprise me quite how 'Neanderthal' a man's thoughts turned during sex. Perhaps because sex brings out urges and desires that can be very primal it reverts the mind back to a more basic way of thinking. However, I wasn't sure that Shane's thought got much more complex when he wasn't fucking someone.

 His thoughts in that moment were very much the same as the words still spewing forth from his mouth. I grant him that everything he thought was very appreciative of Evie – the way her body felt beneath him, around him. How her moans sparked his lusts, how he wanted nothing more than to send her spirally over the edge screaming his name, stocking his ego – but there was not one thought of death.

 Evie's breathing had hitched another notch, her movements became more rampant and earnest, the pleas and moans from her lips more desperate; she wouldn't last much longer. I could read Shane's glee at this thought and I panicked at little. If I didn't do something soon I was going to run out of time; orgasm, after all, was the moment at which he loved to kill.

 Shane upped his effort, thrusting so violently into her delicate little body I was surprised she didn't shatter. Evie though seemed to relish the roughness, I watched through Shane's eyes as she arched up off of the bed, arms spread wide in abandon and her pretty long neck stretched and exposed once again. Another glimmer of promise flickered through Shane's mind as he eyed that expanse of pale flesh.

 'Her neck...so thin...so fragile...I could almost fit one hand all the way around it...'

 I planted the first thoughts into his mind, the stirrings of temptation rose and his hands twitched against the bedsheets again. He moved them, but resisted wrapping his fingers around her neck. He placed them instead on her thighs, digging his fingers deep into the soft flesh with a force that would surely leave bruises. He wanted to feel the fragility of her throat beneath that strength, but settle for leaning down and grazing his lips against the quivering flesh, kissing and biting, marking her as his.

 'So soft...so easy to break...' I further cultivated the temptation in his mind.

 Shane visibly faltered for a fraction of a second. He drew his lips away from her throat, but I could see him fixated on the stretch of pale skin, the way the flesh moved as Evie panted and groaned, how would that movement feel under his fingers? How much force would he have to place on it before she would start to struggle, to fight to breathe? How long before the last of the life slipped out of her body?

 'She's so close now, that's when it's best...' I continued, the little voice talking inside of his head so very similar to his own thoughts that Shane recognised no difference. 'You could make her scream then close off her throat. Silence the sound with your hands and feel that high pitched little voice fight to be heard under your power...'

 Shane's mouth fell open and his breathing became laborious and strained as the desire overwhelmed him. I watched his hands slide upwards from her thighs, caressing every inch of skin on their path across her stomach, over her breasts where they lingered a moment, pinching and caressing, then rested at her shoulders. He hooked his fingers under her shoulders, gaining greater leverage for his thrusts as he pulled her to meet him, her hips bucking off of the bed.

 'Just think how it will feel to have her entire body convulsing beneath you, her throat swallowing uselessly under your grip as she spasms around you...'

 He grunted, his hands gripping Evie's shoulders so hard that she gave out a little cry of pain, giving Shane just a little taste of what could come if he gave in that that little voice inside his head.

 'Picture it. She'd look into your eyes, the confused mixture of pleasure and terror written all over her face. She'd be so desperate to fight you off, but praying that the pleasure never ends...'

 I felt Shane's resolve break as he moaned his desire. Gently I pulled the power back from his mind, released my control on his thoughts, but kept a light touch on his aura just in case he had a last minute change of heart. But as he dragged his hands across her shoulders to the base of her neck I knew there would be no turning back.

 The power caressed Shane's aura again, the temptation to rip it away still there, but lucky for me I only had my own thoughts inside of my head and I was able to call it back. I swallowed down the power alone, as much as it protested being forced away, and opened my eyes again; in time to see the end of the show.

 “Oh, yes Shane...I'm gonna...” The rest of Evie's sentence was cut short by a series of loud moans and gasps that pitched to a scream. Shane knew his moment had come as he moved his hands up her throat, one at either side, thumbs caressing the vibrating flesh then pressing down until the scream gurgled and then was silenced under his tightening, constricting fingers.

 Evie had no control over her actions, she was torn between the ecstasy of orgasm and the terror of the hands at her throat that were slowly choking the life from her. I looked toward her face as she stared at Shane, icy blue eyes wide in terror, lips moving in silent words, pleas for help, for him to stop. Shane continued to pound himself, relentlessly, inside of her; undeterred by the sharp little nails that clawed at his hands and arms. She fought valiantly, but it was futile effort.

 The first sign was the change in her aura. All that pretty pink and sunrise orange darkened as energy black as tar bubbled to the surface – so many think black is a sign of evil, but that is not always the case, a black aura signifies a victim a realisation Evie had finally succumbed to. Shane's knuckles had grown white from the pressure he pressed against Evie's fragile little throat and her body gave up its fight. Her hands still lay against his own but quiet and still, nails worn down to bloody stumps. Tracks of tears striped her face; it was almost all over. Shane let out one long, guttural moan as he released himself deep inside of her helpless, lifeless body.

 Evie lay completely still, she'd closed her eyes as she greeted death and she appeared peaceful, the terror gone from her face; it didn't quite give justice to her horrific death. Shane kept his hands tight around her throat a moment or two more, as if needing to be certain she really was dead before he let her go. But it also gave him a moment to catch his breath, regain his composure and let what he'd just done sink in.

 The girls death meant that my contract was complete, Shane had overfilled his quota of evil deeds for one lifetime, just as he was supposed to, and his soul had been signed over to me. I would take him back to Hell with me where his life would be sacrificed to restore the balance of the world and there his soul would remain, tortured for all eternity for his sins. Poetic justice, or something like that, whatever it was I was eager to get going; but something told me that Shane wasn't going to come quietly.

 With a dramatic, sweeping gesture, I threw open the door but I think it was the slow, sardonic round of applause I gave that drew Shane's attention to me. I smirked and stood in the doorway, barring the exit, and a hungry expression fell over my face as I thought on how close I was to going back home.

 “I must say Shane, that was quite a show. Almost made this hellish week worthwhile.”

 He jumped off the bed without a stitch of clothing to cover his nakedness and glared at me; angry but not in the least bit embarrassed.

 “So, there are two ways this could go.” I met his eyes, “and something tells me that you're going to pick the hard way.”