Verin and Vetis were devious, naturally skilled in seduction and possessed a sex appeal that was as effective in the Mortal realm as their own. With such highly desirable traits and transferable skills it was not long before they were sent to Earth on a mission that required the feminine touch. In its execution the girls found they enjoyed the food, the surroundings and particularly the men. Demonic males were rather dull and tended to focus heavily on stature and snarling.
Kaarl’s unusual disposition towards the Mortals was well known. After they had returned to Perdition the twins had tracked him down, shattered his bedroom window with a rock and clambered in to introduce themselves. He was the only one of their kind they felt they could talk to freely about the subject. At best the Damned were viewed as second class citizens in Perdition and at worst non-entities.
In the twins Kaarl had found some semblance of acceptance. Despite telling himself it wasn’t important, it was a nice feeling nonetheless. Being able to discuss Mortals and not being berated for any attitude other than apathy was a pleasant change. Before the girls had helped him get a connection to the Internet they were also his favourite source of information. The Damned often left the little details out; things that seemed inconsequential to them. The twins explained all of their new experiences in detail.
Despite their play-by-our-own-rules attitude and hard façade, Kaarl had learnt over the decades that Verin and Vetis were a lot like him. Their mischievous nature was not an act but he doubted they would bloom into the creatures of malice their parents and the realm wanted. It seemed to him they did just enough to get by. Like Kaarl, they were trapped between Perdition’s expectations and their desire to just be themselves. Unlike him, they hadn’t taken the final step, declared their differences and accepted the stigma that came along with them. If everything went according to plan it would not be a situation the twins would have to worry about.
Verin and Vetis were sitting by themselves and Kaarl knew they must have been waiting for some time. Long enough at least to have refused every offer of a drink or coupling. He found it odd that they constantly complained about unwanted male attention yet always chose to appear in public without clothing. Both girls had deep green eyes, long black hair and marvellous red bodies. Kaarl never really thought of them as anything but friends; however, he could appreciate the allure of the twins.
‘If it isn’t Lucifer’s man himself,’ said Verin as Kaarl approached the table.
‘Do we have to call you Lord now?’ asked her sister.
Kaarl laughed and sat down with them. He could see in the mirrored wall behind their booth that every man, Demon and even a few of the burlier women in the immediate area were looking at him with utter contempt. The sisters saw it as well and both leant over and kissed Kaarl.
‘All right, enough teasing the patrons,’ he said as he wiped his cheeks. ‘We have work to do.’
‘Relax, Kaarl, have a bit of fun for once,’ replied Vetis.
‘Tell us what Lucifer was like,’ said Verin. ‘What did he say to you, what is his house like?’
‘He didn’t say that much,’ replied Kaarl. ‘He is every bit as intelligent and powerful as the legends would have you think; more, even. The main thing he wanted me to understand is how important our task is.’
‘I heard he doesn’t wear clothes, likes it all natural, like us,’ said Verin.
‘Did you see his junk?’ asked Vetis.
For the two most cunning and roguish Demonettes in the realm, the sisters could be very immature at times.
‘Aw, he’s getting mad,’ Verin noted in a playful tone.
‘Don’t be mad,’ said Vetis. ‘We are just really good at mixing business with pleasure. This is going to be fun, you’ll see.’
‘I don’t care if it’s fun or not,’ Kaarl told the sisters, ‘as long as we get the job done properly.’
Despite his words, Kaarl did intend to have as much fun as possible on Earth. The key to it, however, would be performance and that in turn required the twins to follow orders from time to time. If he allowed them to do as they pleased, or himself to be led astray, the fun would be short-lived for all of them and brought to a swift and brutal conclusion. Kaarl had heard at the meeting how Lucifer dealt with failure. Making sure the girls knew he was in charge and the task was important would be crucial to the long life he wanted to live in the Mortal realm.
‘Will you look at that?’ said Vetis, noticing the stern look. ‘Barely an hour into a management position and he is already heart-attack material.’
‘Isn’t his serious executive face the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?’ asked her sister.
The twins both started giggling and Kaarl couldn’t help but smile, despite his attempt at a solemn, heavy-is-the-crown expression. Their humour was as infectious as it was inappropriate.
‘That’s what we wanted to see,’ said Vetis.
‘You should be happy,’ Vetis told him. ‘This is a great opportunity, for all of us. When it’s time to be serious we will, but for now at least you should celebrate.’
The girls summoned a waiter over and within moments all three had glasses of whisky raised.
‘To us,’ said the twins and all three downed their drinks.
‘All right,’ said Kaarl as his glass hit the table, ‘I feel celebratory enough. Where is Mark?’
‘One drink…’ said Vetis.
‘Somebody call the Zoo!’ shouted Verin. ‘See if they’re missing a party animal.’
‘From what you’ve both told me, we will have plenty of opportunities to get drunk on Earth. Let’s get the ball rolling, shall we, and leave the partying until we’ve actually accomplished something.’
‘Yes sir,’ the twins chimed, standing and saluting.
‘This way, Lord Kaarl,’ said Verin with a mock bow. ‘We gave Mark a copy of your proposal when we got here and we’ve been keeping him and his companions on ice for you.’
Kaarl followed the twins across the VIP lounge to Mark White’s table. One of the Damned, he had died in the early 1960s but during his heyday had played a large part in convincing the world that smoking was not only flavourful and satisfying, but also fashionable. Had a malignant, undiagnosed tumour not claimed his life, modern tobacco companies would have been selling a range of smaller, fun-coloured cigarettes for children.
Mark looked much as he had when he died, wearing the same dark blue pinstripe suit he was buried in. Square-jawed with hard, pale blue eyes and small specks of grey just starting to show in his otherwise black crew-cut. His entourage was comprised of men all in a similar vein. Although their products and roles varied, they were all scoundrels, salesmen, fly-by-nighters or marketing geniuses. Between them they had sold everything from highly flammable children’s wear and bottled water to untested baby formula and carcinogenic meat additives. They were the masters of the hard sell. They had taken products that were mundane and in some cases downright deadly and made Joe Q Public not only accept them, but pay good, hard-earned money for them.
‘Girls!’ Mark yelled as he saw them approach his table. ‘Welcome back. Ah, and here is the man of the hour. Sit, please sit. I hear congratulations are in order.’ Kaarl took the offered seat next to Mark.
‘You’ve got a hard sell there, my boy, a hard sell indeed. Trust us, we should know.’ The assembled sleaze merchants all nodded in solemn agreement.