It was a beautiful snow-dusted day that Kenneth Walters was enjoying out in his garden despite the cold, reading the paper, enjoying his grand life. During the past three years he had accumulated a small bounty of both wealth and prestige. With his fortunes he had purchased a well-sized house and moved out of his earlier flat. And all it had cost him was a handful of people: young, strong men, and younger, pretty women. The demonic being Dechaerrim had uses for all of them. Once Kenneth handed them over, dead or alive, they were never seen again (if they had been seen again, it would corrupt his reputation in an instant, so he was grateful for the demon's secrecy about this business).

Three days had passed since the New Year's Eve party that Ken had successfully hosted in his own home (he couldn't stop himself from saying, 'My very own property!' and grinning). There had been some sort of flu outbreak in the city, but Ken had no need to worry about that, for one of the very first issues dealt with during his initial business with Dechaerrim was immortality: he no longer aged and was immune to all but the most powerful toxins and illnesses. So while many men might quail at the thought of kissing the hands of ladies potentially carrying influenza, Ken gaily carried on with such courtesies. Of course, Dech could still do nothing to fix Ken's socially awkward disposition, so the ladies didn't always appreciate his greetings or advances, but at least now that he was a somewhat esteemed and wealthy dandy of a man he was getting along with them far nicer than before. He had even been to bed with a few! He'd always be grateful for this turnaround in his life.

"Hello, Kenny."

Ken looked up, startled, at the wall around the garden, where the voice had come from. Standing on the other side of the wall was a young woman, who had thick red hair tied at the neck and eyes dark enough to be mistaken as black. Ken couldn't see her below the shoulders but still noticed how very attractive she was. However unfamiliar this female was, he was by no means unhappy at her appearance.

Suddenly remembering his manners a half-second too late, Kenneth stood and removed his hat. "Hullo, Miz, is there something I can do for you?" He headed for the wall gate, and she walked at a sedate pace toward it to meet him there, carrying a handsome grin that was uncannily familiar.

"You're not at all curious how I know your name?" she said. Elfin mischief lit her eyes enticingly. There was a game here being played, and Kenneth so willingly fell along with it. He didn't mind a woman's games, because it meant he got to be involved with her personal interests.

"I suppose I am, but I'm a little well-known now, so maybe..." Ken started. They were standing at the gate now, which was half the height of the wall and wooden, and he could see more of her. She was short but shapely, wearing a simple, trailing, dark green skirt, and a white shirt with a masculine style of high, stiff collar. At the collar was worn a bootlace tie, the clasp made of a circular piece of fire agate. Kenneth recognized that brooch with a rush of jumbled thoughts. "De-Dechaerrim?" he sputtered.

She(?!) chuckled in a throaty way that now made Kenneth feel highly uncomfortable with himself about how much he liked the sound of her alluringly deep voice. "Oh, I thought I would give this a try. I've just been harrowed by boredom, so I decided to put my shapechanging abilities to...interesting use."

"That, uh. That IS very interesting. I'm...not entirely sure how I should be reacting to that. How did...I mean...uh..."

"You're wondering if it's aesthetic or thorough? It's thorough. Of course, I can change back whenever I please, but then I'd look very silly wearing this outfit, now wouldn't I?"

"So is it permanent?"

"No, I'll go back to being a man eventually, I wouldn't be able to stand living like this forever." Dech impatiently pushed open the gate, which Kenneth had been too stunned to do before.

"So...boredom...prompted this?" Ken said, watching her go over and take a seat at the tea table.

"And curiosity, of course. Haven't you ever been as curious about the fairer sex...?" There was more suggestion in her tone than Ken felt comfortable with.

"Not nearly enough to try being a woman, if that's what you're getting at," he said, moving over and plopping down in the other chair.

Dech smirked. "You'd make a terrible-looking woman, anyway."

Kenneth ignored the snipe. "You know, I think, just personally, that...Well, maybe it's just not a good decision, to be...what you...uh...What I mean is, why would you want to be so much, well, weaker? Nobody's going to respect you now."

"Trust me, Kenny, all of my abilities are intact. My magic has nothing to do with my form. And I understand the method of men looking down their noses at women, I'm such a nose-looker myself. Do I care? It's not as if I'm going to be telling everyone I know who I really am."

"You told me."

"I didn't want you trying to court me. Mm, it's something to be able to cross one's legs while seated! No wonder women always sit like this."

"That's...uh...alright." Ken was really unable to respond to any of that. He most definitely would have tried to court the lady had he not known her identity, and despite knowing now, he still found her incredibly attractive. This was all very awkward to him. Just when he had begun to become halfway-accustomed to Dechaerrim's perverse habits, the demon had to go and do this to itself.

"I know. Aren't I just delightfully debase? I also told you about it because I just love to make you squirm." Her voice suddenly smoothed out deeply, giving Ken shivers he wished would go away. "After all, you were always a little borderline about me before, and now? Even when I am a man again, you'll always remember this...view of me. Won't you?"

"A-uh..."

There was that chuckle again. Though Dech's voice had shifted along with the form, the manner of laughter had remained identical. Ken closed his eyes for a second and firmly placed the image of the male, frock-coat-wearing Dechaerrim back into his mind, to erase all those other...images...that had first appeared when the unidentified redheaded maiden had peeked over his garden wall. Definitely needed to erase those images; with a thought-reading demon around, one always had to be careful about the litter in one's brain.

"So tell me, how did your New Year's go? Make any more hollow resolutions or fruitless kiss attempts at your party?" Dech inquired, casually leaning sideways in her chair. No, not 'her'! Ken tried to imagine this was the exact same Dech, only cross-dressing or something. Banish those other thoughts!

"Er. What? Oh. Wait." Once Ken digested the questions, he felt annoyed. Why must the demon always mock him so? "I didn't really bother. With either. And...you? I mean...You know, maybe I don't want to know..."

"Hm, well, at least one of us got laid."

"Blimey!" Kenneth turned red to his ears. "Could you be any more -- crude?!"

"Mm, I could be...if that's what you wanted." And with so much slow deliberateness, she parted her lips, just a tad, and ran the tip of her tongue across her top row of teeth. Kenneth's burning face burned worse, and he felt he couldn't take any more of this sheer weirdness, and stood promptly. He really did not want to admit just how much that gesture had turned him on, given his memory of what this woman really was.

Dech finally broke the mood with a bout of laughter, holding her sides and nearly doubling over in hysteria. Ken flushed more, this time out of irritation than anything else. Why did he always let Dech's antics get to him? He knew he was always being baited, even before. Although, he knew (deep down inside in that logical part of his self-analytical brain that he usually ignored) that he was falling it for much easier post-transformation because no matter how hard he denied it, he was keeping company with a woman...and he always fell for women's games. He knew that he knew that women always played them, and that they tended to call 'spoilsport' if a man remained stoic to their feminine devices. And yet, Dech really wasn't acting any differently than usual: teasing, boasting about his sex life, and making eerie implications about their relationship that rather transcended Dech's earlier affirmation of being just "business partners". It seemed that Ken just turned into an oaf around a nice pair of tits. No, wait, damn! He wasn't even supposed to be noticing those!

At that, Dech's laughter, which had nearly abated itself, came out again in peals, and Ken waited patiently for the demoness to quit it. "Oh, my. Really, Kenny dear, you're so..." She chuckled again, taking FAR too much pleasure in this.

"Oh don't even start with the pet names!" Kenneth snapped.

"You're just bothered by the fact that you're not bothered enough by it," Dech stated. Ken turned away towards the door to his house. There was too much truth in that statement.

Ken was then alone in his kitchen a moment later, wondering how to pave over this little intrusion. He had guests coming over very soon for dinner. He could only imagine how awkward Dech was going to make things; surely, the demon had no intentions of shooing itself away.

"Of course not!" Dech said brightly from directly behind him. He jumped and spun. Dech was standing there, but Ken's eye had half been on the door, and it hadn't opened. The blasted demoness must have 'jumped' her way inside; it was a peculiar talent Dechaerrim had, to imagine a place and then simply to be there, sidestepping any sort of obstacle or time. It was just an aspect of reality-ignorant magic that Ken had never gotten his head around.

"Well, if you're going to linger in my house, you might as well be useful. Here!" Ken picked up a large to-be-sliced ham and shoved it into Dech's hands. "Prepare this!" he said irritably, and went to his china cabinet to fetch the good dishes.

"Oh? Your house which I so graciously provided for your ungrateful self?"

Ken froze, trembling a bit as he realized how egregiously he had erred. He heard the sudden FOOM! of fire roaring to life and he flinched, covering his head with his hands. But nothing on his person seemed to be inflamed; when he finally got the courage to look up, he saw that the ham in Dech's hands was burnt into a hunk of ebony ex-meat. Her expression was flat with displeasure. Ken couldn't help but feel despair over the wasted food, but he said nothing. He was already dangerously close to being set on fire himself.

"Watch your misogyny around me, Walters. Remember who still owns whom."

"Y-yes, Dechaerrim," Ken said tremulously.

Dech smiled, and the ham glowed crimson and then restored itself -- only, instead of flipping back in time to when it was uncooked, it was now freshly made and steamy with savory scents, not burnt but cooked to perfection. "Good! I'm glad you remember." She smiled coldly and set the ham on a platter that hadn't been there a second ago, and carried it out to the dining room, putting it on the table under a lid that also hadn't existed up until that point.

Kenneth shivered uncontrollably for a second. There was certainly no doubt in his mind about the masculine inner identify of Dech -- still leash-owner, key-holder, soul-preserver. The fine body was just a shell, in either gender, for it contained, as it always had, a monstrosity from the Hells whose only motive was to indulge in reckless hedonism and destruction.

When he finally gathered both his wits and the dishes and entered the dining room, Dech was lounging boredly in the head chair, wearing slightly fancier and more evening-appropriate vestments than before. Ken did his best to ignore her as he set the plates, and she had no interest in acknowledging him either for the time. That suited him just fine.

Precisely ten minutes early, his first dinner guests arrived: Richard Lauder, a wealthy restauranteur and philanthropist, and his wife Elizabeth, who dressed like a socialite but had the sociability of a dead porcupine. Kenneth stalled them in the parlor and hoped maybe Dech would just disappear while he waited for the rest of the guests, but he knew there would be no such fortune for him tonight. Sigh. How immodest it would look to have an unchaperoned lady-guest visiting his house well before anyone else had arrived!

"What a lovely vase," Elizabeth commented liltingly and a tad impatiently, gesturing a gloved hand at the piece in question above the fireplace.

"Oh, yes, imported from the Orient," Kenneth said, flicking a glance at his watch while pretending to adjust his tie.

"I do love the colors of it. So warm and lovely," she went, looking sidelong at her husband as if ordering him to get them to the dining room himself. He ignored it, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets, his face bright and not impatient at all. He always radiated friendliness wherever he went, and some who knew him well wondered what possessed him to marry his cold, contemptuous wife, but he would only laugh and say, "There are too many good things in her I see that all else seem blind to knowing!" and then evade further questions. Some people had privately put forth the theory that her "many good things" were contained within her bloomers.

There was a knock at the door precisely five minutes late. Ken thought to himself, "Oh thank God!", and Elizabeth said it aloud. He hurried to answer the door: It was the brothers Weis (with a distinct 'V'-sound), a couple of fetching blonde men of recent German descent. They owned a good amount of stock in banks around town, but always refused to say what percent. It was never possible to tell which was the older brother, Adler or Becker.

They greeted Ken with hearty "Aayy!"s and firm pats on the shoulders before heading indoors to join the Lauders.

"Gutentag," Ken said with a smile. They smiled back at him, but seemed faintly embarrassed. Everyone always seemed embarrassed whenever he smiled, he noticed; he was unhappily aware of the wilting effect his awkwardness had on others, though no one had the heart to say anything to his face about it.

"Is this all the guests?" Elizabeth inquired, fanning herself with a fur-fringed sandalwood fan, not looking at anyone directly but casting her glance upwards and aside as if begging angels to swoop down from the Heavens and take her away.

"You mean 'are these'," Kenneth said, and flinched when she glared at him. "I mean...yes."

"Good," she said curtly, snapping her fan shut and trotting haughtily to the door to the dining room. Kenneth gulped. Dechaerrim was in his house -- early -- in HIS chair, the HOST'S chair, at HIS place at the head of the table -- this was going to go terribly! He almost groaned out loud when Adler swiftly slid over to open the door for her with a nearly imperceptible wink at her as he did so. Richard seemed to be glancing the other way at that moment and didn't seem too insulted. Elizabeth's tight expression evened out a bit, but she still tipped her chin up as she entered the room. Ken held his breath.

"Ooh!" he heard her go, and he began to sweat.

"Elizabeth?" Richard said, striding in after her. "Oh!" He sounded surprised.

Kenneth moved forward, wringing his hands. "I am so unb-believably s-sor--"

Rich smiled broadly from the doorway. "This roast smells delicious! My! Good Ken, what ingredients did you use?"

"Oh--er...secret recipe, very delicious, got it from my Grandmum," Kenneth mumbled in shocked relief.

"Oh, of course. I understand. She must have been an amazing matron," Rich complimented. "Where shall we sit?"

"Why, I...oh..." Damn, he never thought about those things ahead of time. He bustled in after everyone. "Well, you and your wife can sit on the right side, I suppose, and the brothers can sit on the left, and I'll have this seat." Kenneth almost sat down as the others did as well, then hopped back to his feet in time to remember he was supposed to provide food. And silverware. Elizabeth, despite her momentary weakness at the mouth-watering scents of the prospective dinner, glared down at the half-empty tabletop with hostility.

"I'm sorry, let me get the silverware..." he muttered, and began to turn towards the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Everyone looked up as if expecting the person ringing the bell to fall out of the ceiling, then they looked questioningly at Kenneth. Elizabeth glared at him, wordlessly blaming him for yet another late arrival.

"Um. Excuse me." Ken hurried to the front door and answered it, only half-surprised to see it was Dech, and half-unsettled to see it was still a woman. Sigh. He heard curious mutterings back in the dining hall, and no wonder; only five chairs and five plates were set.

"Does this entrance suit your pride better, dear?" Dech said in a low voice that wouldn't be heard from the other room, brushing by Kenneth without invitation, and letting herself into the dining room while Ken shut the front door again. He scurried to enter after her.

He noticed a few things immediately: Richard's eyebrows were up to his hairline in surprise, and the Weis brothers' were up to theirs in appraisal and approval. Kenneth's stomach twisted. None of this would end well.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, everyone, this is my, uh, acquaintance, De--"

"Karen?" Richard gaped.

"Dick?!"

"Who?" Elizabeth said sharply.

Karen? Ken hadn't expected that, but then again, 'Dechaerrim' was an odd enough name for a man to get away with; there was really no way to feminize it properly. He supposed it did resemble the syllables '-chaerrim' closely enough.

"Uh, yes. This is...Karen," he said, "my acquaintance."

"Oh, don't be so modest, Kenneth. You may call us friends," Dech said with an impish grin. Richard shot him an uncomfortable look; Ken wondered about that, but didn't ask.

"Why is no one setting a chair for this lovely lady?" Becker said, standing. He took 'Karen's hand and kissed it, with a nearly imperceptible wink to her. Ken noticed that the brothers winked opposite eyes; they also seemed opposite-handed.

Dech mock-pouted over her shoulder at Kenneth. "Ke-en, aren't you going to introduce me to the other guests?"

"Um. Right! Yes! Of course. That's Becker Weis, and his brother Adler Weis, and over there is...well, you seem to know Richard Lauder, and his wife Elizabeth."

"A great pleasure meeting you, dear Karen," Becker cooed.

Richard shot him a glance as well, then one at Dech, then looked at his wife again. "I met her at the New Year's Eve party I attended, don't you recall?" Well, at least that explained why Richard hadn't been able to attend Ken's party.

"I recall no mention of any...unmarried young 'ladies' who 'met' you there," Elizabeth said with a voice like ice.

"It was a very large party, my sweet pea, and too many people for me to remember to mention all at one time. We barely interacted, really; only enough to exchange names and sing a bit around the pianist."

His wife looked unconvinced, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. "Well, then, if you are so much a stranger to her and those boys are so interested in getting to know her better, then I'm sure she will be very well off sitting on the other side of the table. Isn't that right, Kenneth?"

"Errm..." Ken moved around the table to place a spare chair next to Adler. "Yes, of course. I'm, uh, afraid I didn't plan for so many, I thought it would just be us five."

"Then what is she doing dropping by uninvited if she thought you had no other plans for the evening?"

Dech seated herself without complaint between the Weis boys where Adler had moved her chair. Ken's stomach twisted at how cheerfully the demon was taking all of this.

"Would there really be anything wrong with that?" Dech inquired sweetly across the table of Elizabeth.

"Well, I hardly think it's prudent for one such as yourself, BY yourself, to be going to mens' houses, let alone after dark, of all things...Really girl, what would people think of you?"

"We think she's quite something," Becker said with a grin. Adler nodded. Elizabeth huffed.

"Indeed..." Richard muttered under his breath. When the others glanced at him and his wife started to open her mouth, he said, "When can we expect to be served our meal, good Ken? We're all dying to try your Grandmum's secret recipe roast ham!" Dech smirked faintly at that.

Ken served the food (and not only ham but other dishes as well) and drinks (cider, mostly, though Dech opted for wine; the Weis boys eyed her approvingly as she went through a few glasses to no ill effect), and the evening went along well enough, with meaningless conversation engaged in boringly long amounts, and plenty of hollow rounds of laughter were had over puns and small jokes. Ken queased when the conversation concerning everyone's personal status at the moment turned onto Dechaerrim. The boys were fairly interested in her, while Richard had become aloof to her existence, and Elizabeth openly detested her presence. Ken could do nothing but hope Dech was a smooth liar and would not embarrass him.

"So, do forgive my boldness, but...are you not currently involved with any sort of relationship at the moment?" Becker asked with a sly grin.

"Oh, no. None of any permanence," Dech replied. Elizabeth looked away; Ken flushed at the implications in that sentence. Richard looked up at him, and then pointedly stared at the door to the main room. Kenneth finally got the hint and stood, bumping the table and muttering an apology about it when some cider nearly sloshed out of its glass. "Richard, since you're done with your plate, let me show you, a, ah, a painting I just bought in an auction."

"A pleasure!" Richard said brightly and stood with much more grace, bowing to everyone seated and then hurrying out the door. When Ken followed him out, Rich's usually pleasant demeanor had worn off into anxiety and...something else he couldn't place. The man spoke in hushed tones.

"May I ask, if it is not too rude of me to do so, how (and how well) you know Miss Karen?"

Ken decided not to try lying if he could help it. "I met hi-- her a few years ago, in 1897, when...She was a friend of Monica's, and we met...after she disappeared. How well? Well, I...not a terrible lot..."

"Miss Monica, God rest her soul, she was a kind woman but she had such a penchant for friends of the wrong persuasion."

"How do you mean?" Ken inquired.

"The rumors have it that Monica was last seen with a young gentleman who'd also been seen around town courting many other people, but, well, that's neither here nor there I suppose. She had other friends, too...She was drawn to the types that, to put it delicately, would never have been to Mass, at least not without a guilty glance around them if you take my meaning."

"O-oh. And Karen, is...?"

"I, um..." Richard looked around with an ironically guilty glance. He spoke even quieter this time. "I did meet her at the New Year Eve's party (forgive me again for not coming to yours, I can't appear at everything I'm always invited to). But our acquaintanceship that night was rather deeper than singing and talking in the main room."

Ken quailed as he remembered Dech's earlier comment of 'at least one of us got laid'. Oh, no!

"You did not."

Richard bit his lip. "I was very intoxicated. And she was very... ...persistent."

"Good God, Richard...is this the first time you've, ah..."

"With Karen? Yes, first and last. She was by no means...unskilled, but...there's something not quite right about her. I know it wasn't only my alcohol making it seem that way, either. She'd respond to me, to things I had only just been about to say, but before I said them. I'd imagine something in my mind, and she would...do something to almost act it out, following my thoughts...Stephen's dog hid for most of the party, came out once, saw her, piddled itself right there in the middle of the room, and ran off again. Never seen a big dog like that act as if it were looking down a lion before. No one else seemed to notice what had given it such a fright, but I just know it was looking right at her. When she looked back at it, that's--"

"I know. Alright? I know...she's not...she's...never mind, I can't really tell you, but for the love of God can you please never even talk about what you did with her again? Why are you even telling me this?"

"I had to be certain you weren't...being hasty with her."

"Believe me, I'll never even try. I know what she's really like," Ken said dryly.

"Oh?"

"Besides, the brothers in there seem to be making friendly with her. They can take her off our hands for tonight."

Richard shrugged, and returned to the dining room. Sighing and letting out a soft groan, Kenneth followed after.

"How long does it take to look at a piece of artwork?" Elizabeth demanded when they appeared.

"Far too long when it keeps me from viewing instead your sweet face," Richard said affectionately, and Ken realized that the man's ability to love his wife was built on a thick foundation of sarcasm and infidelity. She also knew this, apparently, for she merely glared at him and then at Ken. "Just when is dessert going to be served?"

"Right away," he said, wanting to hurry through the night so it could end already. "De- Karen, could you help me with, uh, carrying the dessert?"

Dech was sitting sedately while the Weis brothers took turns leaning over to mutter inaudibly to her. She looked up at Ken with a stare like a cat watching him from on top of a wall, passive and waiting for him to leave, but then she finally did stand and whisked into the kitchen, letting the door swing itself shut in his face as he moved to follow. He heard snickhaers, and a none-too-quiet scoffing from who-else? saying, "What a rude girl!"

Swallowing his frustrations, he sent Dech a seething stare as he started putting the desserts on a tray. "Dech, I just heard something very interesting from Richard, you know."

"He has many interesting things to say, but I'm assuming you mean he told you we had sex."

"Shh!" he hissed. "Do you want them all to hear?!"

"The Lauders both know, I'm sure, and the Weises wouldn't care."

"Alright, so you don't mind if people hear about your-- your-- escapades, but I certainly want to look a bit, not disreputable for having you around! You make it sound as if you were here tonight for, for..."

"Oh I know, isn't that an awful thing to imagine? Well, clearly, I'm not staying the night with you but probably with those fair German boys instead."

Ken put his hands on his head. "Dech! What has gotten into you?! Weren't you, I mean...Does this do this to you?!"

"Oh, Kenny. I've always been a wandering tomcat. You act surprised."

"But...with men?! Since when did you have relations with men!"

Dech raised a brow. "You certainly react strongly against the idea for someone who has rejected his religion. And seriously now, I've not changed. That is, not mentally. It's only that when you're of a particular gender, the field of prey is slim when you aim to catch only those of the same sex. Normally, yes, I would prefer to have a woman, but when I am one, there aren't many others in town who would have me."

Ken immediately banished the mental picture of two women sleeping together. "So you...have always..."

"I've never had a strict criterion when seeking a bedmate, no."

Kenneth digested this, his head spinning. This was just all too weird. How could the epitomy of masculine power that was Dechaerrim be reduced to this? How could that demon have always been so...widely-stanced? And then he remembered why he had been angry in the first place, and glared at Dech again. "Maybe your criterion needs to be a little smaller, and not include married men!"

"Dick's cheated on her before, many times. I'm sure she strays, as well. Why would you care? Does their relationship mean something, personally, to you?"

"Keep your voice down! And, no, but...but I just don't want to be...to have it said of me that I hang around with someone who might be called a, a strumpet!"

"Oh, yes, because you're obviously one of such great repute," Dech sneered. "Honestly, Kenneth, do you believe they like you? They appear here because it is a social thing to do, and you're a wealthy man, and they're hoping to hedge into your life enough to begin asking for favors and, perhaps, someday, even have their names added to your will. Of course, if they knew you were a unhallowed, demon-tainted heathen, they might act very differently, but fortunately for you it benefits me to keep our business secret. But, my point is that you will never truly be liked by anyone. You will not be loved, either. You have purged worship from yourself, and now, your deity doesn't love you either -- he would crush your soul in his fist if he could take it out of my grasp. You're a shell, without time, without affection, without death. All you have is an eternity of fulfilling your immediate urges, giving in to your lusts, your gluttonies, your avarices, moving further out of humanity and closer to MY world." Dech grinned. "And you will never, ever walk away from me, because I, too, can crush you, in the way that matters to you most: I can take away your status. I brought you up here. I can take you down again -- further than you were before. Do not forget this. It is your company that is the slum I walk in, and never the other way around."

Kenneth took the abuse without a peep, staring darkly at the floor. "They're waiting," he said, carrying all of the desserts out to serve them himself. Elizabeth made another scoff; after all, 'Karen' HAD promised to help carry the food out. Ken wondered how weak he must look if he couldn't even make a woman keep her promise to deliver vittles. Or, he wondered if they thought he had been doing something more discreet in the kitchen.

Then he realized that was not at all the reason Elizabeth looked so displeased. She was red and huffing with anger, Richard was blanched, and the Weis boys looked a little confused and amused. Ken's organs did a dance of displeasure. Dech clucked in exasperation as if that conversation being overheard just now was just a minor inconvenience and not a total disaster.

"You laid with my husband!" Elizabeth shouted, standing up, her hands balled into fists. She then spun and smacked Richard across the face, drawing a gasp from everyone (except Dech, who probably saw that coming), and he stood up and backed away, quickly pouring out apologies and acting humble.

"My dove, my lovely, mon petit, it's not what you think, that conversation was-- was nothing but fallacy, I'm sure you know I'd never stray from you, my powdered pastry--"

"Don't lie to me! Don't even have the audacity to lie to me after what we all just heard! And look, she isn't even denying it! Are you?!" Elizabeth glared over at Dech, who stared placidly back. "See?! You godless whore!"

"Thank you. Are you done?" said Dech.

"No I am not done you adulterous, husband-seducing harlot! How many venereal diseases have I gotten because of my husband's liaison with you?!"

"I suppose you'll just have to count the outbreaks and see for yourself, now won't you?"

"Shut your wagging trap you trollop!" Elizabeth screeched, picking up a wine goblet and flinging it hard across the table directly at Dech's face, where it shattered in a spray of cider and glass shards. None of the glass stuck, but bounced off in a glittery array on her blouse instead, which she brushed off nonchalantly.

Adler and Becker had now stood to get out of the way now that Elizabeth was grenadiering silverware and dishes wantonly at Dechaerrim, and Richard tried to subdue his wife only to get a mean elbow directly to the nose. He backed away with a groan, clamping a handkerchief against it to stifle the bleeding. Kenneth was off to the side, watching this all in utter dismay.

"Listen, Bethy, if you don't stop assaulting me, I'm going to have to retaliate," Dech said, while harmlessly battered by thrown objects. Not a bruise, scratch, nor burn appeared anywhere on her skin. "And trust me, no one here really wants to see what a mess I can make when I am provoked."

"Mrs. Lauder, please listen to reason!" Kenneth pleaded, seeing the dinner taking a decidedly dangerous downwards spiral.

"Please, it was only that one night, and I was very-- tired and emotional, you see, I had been having far too much brandy," Richard said, his voice comically nasal, "It only happened once and it would never happen again! I care nothing for her!"

"No, you care nothing for me!" Elizabeth retorted, suddenly sobbing. "If you did, you would not do this to me! You would be faithful! What have you done?! I have never been with any other man in my life! Is this how you repay me, by breaking your vows made before God?!"

Dech flashed him a vicious grin. "Gee, Dick, she does have a point. You weren't confessing your love to your little Turkish Delight when you and I were hammering it away in the closet, the guest chamber, the spare lounge room..."

"Y-you bewitched me!"

"I think I recall you moaning 'Karen' on your lips entirely of your own free will."

Elizabeth suddenly launched the entire platter of ham across the table, the metal striking Dech in the forehead with a painful-sounding CLANG! She stumbled back from that, actually looking stunned for a second from the blow, and then recovered her senses and began to look sincerely angry.

"Alright, I'm bored and tired of this. Let's end this night quickly," she growled, stepping towards the table. Ken watched in absolute horror as the back of her shirt twitched, then started to bulge, as something grew from her shoulder blades. The air shimmered around her from a sudden surge of heat, and the temperature in the room climbed steadily to match.

"No, no! Dech!" Kenneth yelped. Richard looked up blearily, thinking he had been addressed. The Weis boys, seeing Dech's change, stepped back to the kitchen door, and then scurried out of it without delay; a second later came the sound of the garden door clanging open and shut again, followed by their receding footsteps crunching through the snow.

Richard and Elizabeth, from their position across from Dech, saw nothing out of the ordinary, though sensed the heat and the feeling that something was gone amiss. Dech paused, lifting a foot to plant it on a chair, looking much like a sprinter preparing to leap. "Time to choose, Lauders. Are you going to salvage your marriage, or shall I terminate it now?"

"E-excuse me?" Richard gulped.

Elizabeth tipped her chin up, her tears dry for now, her resolve clear. "There's...there's nothing to salvage! I care not what anyone thinks of me for this, but I will not stay in this loveless relationship! You are only one in a long line of whores, Miss Karen, and I hope you don't make the mistake of falling in love with this deceitful pig as I have!"

Dechaerrim grinned and chuckled, coldly both. "I don't fall in love," she said, almost too quietly to be heard, and then launched across the table like a tiger at Elizabeth. The demon's hands caught the human lady's thick blouse, the inertia of the jump slamming Elizabeth into the wall behind her, before they both fell instantly to the floor. Dech pinned Eliza down with a knee on the lady's chest, and began mercilessly pounding her face with one fist, smiling like an axe murderer with sudden horrible glee that Kenneth had only very rarely witnessed in the past. It was the face of an unpinned, unchained monster, the lion let loose from its cage, starving, mad for blood.

"Beth!" Richard shouted, moving to intervene -- but Ken, in a singular moment of speed, was quick enough to grab the other man's arm and drag him away. "No, let them work it out!" Ken said, feeling his voice high-pitched. He knew how this was going to end.

Dech paused, looking up at them with her wild, dark eyes, smiling viciously. "Yes, boys! Let us work it out!" Elizabeth squirmed and whimpered, trying to shove Dech off. The lady's face was not only bruised and battered, but burnt.

"She's beating my wife!" Richard protested with a growl. Apparently, he had some loyalty in him after all.

"Isn't this how it's done?" Dech inquired. "Do we not battle rivals to claim our mates?"

"Men fight over women! Not the other way around! God, woman, you've gone mad!"

"Ha, ha...oh my...Well, take it as a compliment, then? I'll see you soon enough to pick up where we left off on New Year's."

"I'll never --"

Ken hauled the furious Richard into the parlor and then on out the front door, cutting off further conversation. He kept his ham-fisted grip on the other man, who seemed likely to sprint back indoors to break up the catfight.

"Why do you permit her to do that?!" Richard said angrily. "Letting her interrupt your dinner party, letting her assault my wife! That's battery, you know! And Beth didn't do anything to deserve it, we both know that!"

"Of course she didn't, since we both know it's your fault for having extramarital relations," Kenneth said, feeling just as annoyed about the situation. "And we both know Karen is...peculiar. It's difficult to refute her."

"I'll...I'm going home." Rich tore his arm away, then used it to cover his nose again when it started bleeding in the cold air. "I'm going to prepare my finances for the...the divorce," he growled.

"I'm very sorry this happ--"

"Oh, save your apologies, I won't be accepting them," Richard said darkly, and continued on down the street.

Kenneth waited ten minutes before heading back inside to check the damages.

Dechaerrim was straddling a dining chair backwards, apparently waiting for Kenneth's return. Her shirt was gone and destroyed, as caused by a pair of large, gaunt, demonic arms sprouted from her back, one of which was picking bits of what Ken hoped to God was ham out of her teeth. While normally he would have been flushed at the sight of such exposure, he instead felt thrown off and sickened by those otherworldly arms, the blood all over them, the blood all over Dech, and the smell of charred flesh.

Ken walked in cautiously, his dining room looking more like a war field: cutlery, dishes, and wine glasses were lying around, broken and twisted; the food and drinks were all of them spilled; half the chairs were overturned...and there was Elizabeth, bestially mauled and her entire body burnt beyond recognition, lying on the floor in front of Dech's chair. The demoness almost resembled a grooming cat just then, stoically awaiting praise for the kill it had deposited for its owner.

"You killed her," Kenneth stated numbly.

"She's going to die in a fire tomorrow morning."

"O...of course. Of course..." Ken pulled at his hair. "Why did you do this?"

"Don't you remember how persistent I am when conquering a lover?"

"Well, with women, yes..."

"Just remember that, Kenneth. It doesn't matter if I care about what I want, it's only when it's deprived of me that I crave it enough to kill for it. I'll have Richard, only because he said he was done with me."

Dech stood, starting to magick a state of renewal and cleanliness to the room with motions of all four hands. Kenneth watched, not caring to protest anymore about any of this, feeling exhausted, and, maybe, a little relieved. Sure, he had lost some houseguests forever, and was once again party to one of the demon's murders. But he never liked Elizabeth much anyway, and he figured no one else really did either. And Richard, well, he was a philanderer, so maybe his company was sour on the reputation as well...the Weis brothers? Well, tragic losses for friends, but they were foreign anyway. It was best to keep your company limited to locals if one could help it -- gave an image of nationalism, see.

Soon, the room was clean, and even the corpse had vanished. Dech's decolletage was repaired as well, and the ugly alien arms were gone without a trace. She was walking towards the parlor to take her leave, pausing next to Ken in passing.

"You see," she said quietly, "It just comes down to the fact that I always win."