At first, there was nothing. Netta opened her mouth, struggling with gathering the courage to call out once more.

The sound of the hotel room's door - one that Netta knew, with absolute certainty, had been locked - smashing open to bounce off of the wall made Netta jump.

The dark room, and with the almost pure light of the light outside of the opened entrance door to act as a glowing outline, caused Ash to look ethereal. An elemental, almost heavenly force, with a dark umbra at the center of the light.

He was, even in this false form that the Monster still insisted on, a tall, imposing presence. Behind Ash, snow swirled in eddies, sweeping through the white artificial light outside.

She heard as the Monster snapped his fingers, causing the light next to the bed to turn on. The door slammed behind him, trapping Netta with her Familiar.

It struck her, before she took in the sight of Ash, lit, how odd it was for the Monster to do it. He could surely see all of her with frightening ease, even in pure darkness.

Ash's mouth fell open.

Standing in the doorway of the bathroom with only the droplets of her bath water to cover her, Netta stared at Ash with uncharacteristic boldness. She looked at Ashwood, taking in the sight of the Monster. Saw a false man who wore all of the seeming trappings of a young, devastatingly handsome male.

With snow-dusted blond hair, unnatural, purple eyes and a lean, powerful body, Ash had taken a false form that was supposed to be a lure to Netta. This was a means of making her lower her guard as much as his seeming carefree attitude, the almost playful flirtations.

What irony, that the thing that most compelled her to him was not this beautiful, innocent facade.

Netta could admit to it then, the true allure that Ashwood had always held for her when she grew up. The vulgar power, the elemental emotion.

The darkness that grew in his gaze as Ash beheld her caused a sensation, building like static electricity along the back of Netta's neck.

She closed her eyes, shuddered.

Goddess help me, but I want it - hunger for him more than I could ever want anything.

And then Ash took a step forward.

He spoke, the Monster's voice seeming to have lost some aspect of emotion, so that it seemed flat. A direct comparison to the too vivid - all too red - of Its eyes.

"Hasn't your mother warned you about tempting my kind?" His head lifted, chin pointed to her.

Netta said, "My mother knows nothing of what I am to do here." But Calliope is allowing this by proxy.

All of the grown Witches in the room knew what she was doing here, surely. That it could mean that they would need to kill her, if Ashwood set about possessing her after she had finished.

But, to them, this is what she was worth.

And, Netta felt, whispering in the back of her mind, this, too, was her rightful place in the grand scheme of things.

Ash stepped closer still, and with every step towards her, Netta thought that she could feel the fear build in her. It built alongside something else, growing like a roaring wave that threatened to crash into her. Maybe it was her imagination, but the Monster's boyish features seemed to be straining, facial muscles tight like seams set to burst.

Ash stopped, closing his eyes, breathing in heavily through his nose. Abruptly, his eyes snapped open. The Monster spoke, his voice holding a rasping, thick quality that made Netta feel as though it were rusting claws running down her spine.

"You called for me." Ash relaxed his features and stopped walking.

Netta wanted to scream as she felt a horrible, impatient need rise up in her.

Slowly, Ash said, "I did not expect to be called for. The only other time you've done it as a grown woman has been by accident. I would call it a slip of some need that you're perhaps ashamed of admitting to, but now I must admit to some surprise." Ash rose a hand to his chin and seemed to examine her closely. "It's taking a lot for me to hold back right now. I want you to appreciate that."

Netta shivered, feeling something growing, akin to a fever.

He licked his bottom lip, a slow, wet movement. "I want to know what it is that you want from me, to risk so very much by letting me inside of you." His eyes seemed to darken, a black smoke that curled in the fires of his irises. When the Monster spoke, it was in a rough, unsettling purr. "You do know that having me like this too often - it's a good way to corrupt yourself. Why, I could -"

Netta took a step towards the Monster. In spite of the foreboding sense of fear that shook her, she was unable to fight back her sudden, growing impatience. Need.

And, finally, she spoke. "I want everything - everything that I was never able to take before. Was too afraid to risk."

Ash raised his head, surprise rendering him almost innocent. "Neith, am I one of those things that you've always wanted?"

Netta stopped him, for a moment overcome so much by sudden, bitter pain that it clouded her mounting, dangerous desire. "Yes. But do not insult me by lying, pretending that this is going to be anything other than a means to some end for the both of us." She spat the words out, felt emboldened by the anger written on his face. "I do not insult you by making demands on you - begging for you to spare me in return for me... accepting this accursed existence."

Ash was still, save for the swirling vortex of red that had become the Monster's irises. The color, the spiral of them, was almost hypnotic - then became hypnotic, and Netta could scarcely look away.

When Ash spoke, his voice seemed to have lost yet more of the vestiges of his humanity. "You want no assurance from me, girl? I don't have to give then, if you do not want." His mouth moved, as though in the beginnings of a smile, but it seemed hollow, false. "Very well. As you wish. But I want one thing from you."

Netta let her breath out of her lungs, feeling a new strength fill through her. "I don't have much to give, Monster -"

Ash rose a finger in the air and shook it slowly. "I will not ask much from you - in return for my power. My loyalties." Its mouth curved into a smile. "I want to be the only thing you wish for. This evening, at least."

Netta dropped her arm to hand loosely in front of her legs. "I did once before - it did me no good."

One of Ash's eyebrows cocked, and his smile seemed to broaden. "I don't care. I want you to wish for me, and not just because you covet my power." He threw his arms out. "Want me with every sense of yours, for me to burn them. I want you to feel a shred of humility, because you're begging for your Familiar to fuck you."

Netta stared at the Monster, wished that she did not find the cruel turn of his mouth leaving her aching. Wished that she could lust for light, for decency. Wished that she was not an indecent woman.

She could have ordered him to strip, to lay back. Harvest the Monster for his magic.

Netta was overtly aware of the sensation of her nipples stiffening, the sharp quickening of her breath. She pulled her arm away, laid her wrists against either side of her hips. "I do want you."

Ash cocked his head to the side, smile fading slowly. He chuckled, the sound reminding Netta of cold, sharp metal on stone. "No, no. Do what I told you to. Wish for me. Now."

Netta was aware of this perversion of the natural order - how taboo it was to surrender power to one of his - Its - kind. Still, she could not stop the arching desire that crackled through her at the game she was participating in.

Was, in some ways, relieved to be playing a role as opposed to living cruel, hard reality.

Barely suppressing a shuddering smile, Netta said, "I wish for you, Ashwood."

When he moved, Netta saw then the determined set of his mouth. As the Monster stepped closer, Netta saw also the subtle way his legs moved, one leg seeming to cross over the other in an almost hypnotic sway. The Monster moved with a purposeful grace. A predatory circling.

She saw the heavy swelling in his crotch, and it reminded her of a snake rising in warning.

"You must be cold," Ash cooed, hands extended towards her. His eyes burned, a dark flame that drew Netta's gaze once more. Gazing into his eyes, Netta found that she could hardly see any of the features of his boyish face - that mask - beyond those eyes. "You must be soaked to your bones. And we mustn't have that."

Netta said something, she was certain of it, but as Ashwood crossed the center of the room, she felt words dry up in her throat. The Monster was four feet in front of her before she fled into the bathroom, her earlier willpower gone as a mortal fear possessed her.

Ash stalked after her, steps slow, deliberate, in the darkness of the bathroom. As Netta turned, looking up at him, she knew, even in her fear, that the only thing keeping her from seeing the Monster's transformation in the dark bathroom was because of her inability to see in the near dark.

The Monster's true form loomed, powerful muscle and the sharp outlines of something that could be wings - horns? - spread large.

Ash could, undoubtedly in the dark, see all of her. He was a scant few feet from her when he stopped, seeming to evaluate all of her.

Still Ash's voice was a shocking velvet. "Ooh... soft curves, and that thick ass of yours..." Ash leaned in closer, and his pheromones ran flush in his breath, heaving over Netta.

Trying to keep space between then, Netta pressed as much as she could against the far wall of the bathroom. She instinctively did not cry out, although she could feel the scream building.

Feeling his pheromones breathe over her, Netta felt more aware than she ever had of how tight her body felt, how cold she was. Still, her pride would not allow her to listen to Ash speak to her like this.

Softly - she could hear the fear in her voice as she spoke - Netta said, "Don't talk about... my body like that."

Ash shushed her, his voice, when he spoke, a false smoothness. "Now, now - you have to allow me to a trespass or two..." The Monster made a soft cooing sound, reminding Netta of a predator pretending to be one of its prey's kind. Come hither, young one.

When Netta said nothing to him, Ash spoke in a soft murmur. "That full mouth of yours, Lovely - a good pair for this one, don't you think?"

His face drew closer as Ash craned his head down towards hers, the heat of it pulsing in waves against her skin.

Netta clenched her mouth shut, found herself wishing that he would force her to the ground, to stop this farce of temptation. Whimpering, Netta turned her head to the side.

She had no sooner turned her head that she felt Ash press his mouth to her cheek. He roughly kissed, grabbing the tender flesh of her cheek in his teeth as he almost tenderly ground them together.

She cried out, the sound mingled with the gnashing sound of the Monster's mouth as he kissed, bit. Her arms reached up and Ash grabbed them, forcing her arms around his neck, pressing her to his chest.

When Ash grabbed her chin roughly in his hand and turned her face towards him, Netta slammed her eyes shut.

The Monster spoke in a heavy growl that possessed none of his usual finesse. "You look at what you're wishing for. Gaze at me, Witch, for I am your dreams made manifest."

You are my nightmare.

Netta shuddered in breath, found it full of pheromones.

Her body felt too tight, as though she were wearing clothes that compressed against her skin. Netta's her flesh crawled, her mind fevered like an addict's. And then she opened her eyes, feeling the weight of that gaze on her, compelling her.

When Netta gazed into the almost complete darkness of the room, she could find only the too close glowing of red eyes.

But, as she knew, looking into their depths, into that cyclone of pure energy, that they were not red.

Rather, they were a vortex of reds, yellows, oranges, whites - blacks.