• The metallic ring of the coin dinged as it skipped down the stairwell, ricocheting off of each and every concrete step, then against one stucco wall or the other caging them in. Finally it spun to a stop on the bottom step, rotating in place several times before coming to rest, tails up and shining in the face of a bright southern California sun. Shoes followed the coins path down the steps, dusty worn loafers of an indiscriminate shade of grey that might once have been white before the grime of the city coated them. They came to rest on the final step, shifting this way and that as their owner looked around, and finally walked towards the quarter and picked it up, tucking it away in a pocket to be met with the collision of itself on another coin. The man looked up at the sky, shading his caramel brown eyes and peering through the LA smog. “It’s almost noon.” He commented, turning to look at his companion, a mere 10 steps above him.

    The preacher nodded, descending from the apartment that lay above his simple one room church in the slums of one of America’s largest cities. “You said you know this person we’re expecting, Jarvis?” He asked nervously, wringing his hands on a stained grey shirt. “They can help us with our problem?”

    “I have a friend who knows the guy. Kisho says there ain’t nothing this Namea fellow can’t handle.” He met the baby blues of the preacher with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry Father Corbin, whatever that thing in your church is, they’ll get rid of it.” Jarvis ran a hand through his greying brown hair and continued to look towards the freeway.

    “Is this person travelling from very far away?” Father Corbin asked, pulling at the white clerical collar he wore beneath his simple black shirt and fanning himself with his other hand. He watched with dissaproval as Jarvis took out a cigarette and lit it, but held his tongue. The man was a good one, a regular church-goer, a great father and husband, and a hard worker, so one bad habit couldn’t possibly count against him with the lord.

    Jarvis pulled a comb from his pocket and ran it through his hair. “Kisho wouldn’t say exactly where from, but I’ll assume its far since he said they should be here in four days, he couldn’t even stick around to greet the guy himself.” He was interrupted by the roar of an engine and a large black motorcycle pulled to a stop in front of them. The driver killed the engine and pulled up the visor of their helmet, balancing the bike skilfully on their own feet. All he could see were a pair of sunglasses beneath. The voice that shot from the helmet however was indeed a surprise, because it was female.

    “I’m looking for Father Corbin and Jarvis Morrison.” It purred. Low and smooth, the tone could almost be described as musical, yet something undeniably earthy lay beneath it. Something peeked its head out from the saddlebags on the bike, and Jarvis’ eyes widened as he watched a large black tomcat emerge and set itself up behind the driver.

    “That’s me.” The preacher answered, gaining his tongue long before his friend. “And you are the one Kisho called to help us out?” His tone was doubtful.

    The mysterious woman dismounted the bike, and Jarvis did a double take. She was tiny, five feet even, if that. She was clothed simply in light jeans with short heeled black leather boots under them and a long leather jacket on over. How she could stand the July heat in that, he had no idea. From beneath the jacket seemed to poke the ends of what could only be some kind of swords on either hip. Hands sheathed in fingerless gloves reached up and removed the helmet and he further inspected her, his doubt growing. The woman couldn’t have been older than 19, and her face was doll-like in proportion, a pert nose on which perched the mirrored sunglasses set over petulant lips, in a face that was pale and heart shaped, almost like a porcelain figurine. From her helmet fell a braid as thick as his wrist, and it did not stop unravelling until it reached her knees.

    “There must be some mistake…” He began, looking her over one more time. “You see, he said that someone could come and take care of the…creature…living in Father Corbin’s church.”

    “Yeah.” She answered. “That’d be me…I’m Namea…if you’d please let me inside so that I can take care of it for you? And put out the cigarette, it‘s a disgusting habit and I get that stench enough at home in the ‘lust.” The cat nodded at them, levelling both men with a stare that seemed far too intelligent for an animal, and unnerving, though perhaps that was the fact that his eyes were a brilliant crimson red.

    Father Corbin nodded. “Miracles come in all forms.” He murmured before leading her to the door. “Jarvis will go in with you, he is a strong man and he has offered to help in any way you need. Thus far the creature has not harmed any humans, although your cat may need to beware, it’s eaten several of those…it just seems that it will not leave, and I cannot conduct a sermon as long as it is there.”

    “Ookami will be alright.” At his puzzled expression, she clarified. “That’s the cat, he’s my partner, and he’ll be fine.”

    They walked into the church and the door closed behind them, offering a cool escape from the sun and leaving the preacher outside. “Partner?” Jarvis scoffed, glaring at the woman. “What are you, some sort of wannabe witch or something?”

    She stared straight ahead calmly, and reached up, shifting her sunglasses to sit atop her head before she looked at him calmly. “Or something.” She answered.

    He almost gave a gasp as he looked her in the face without the sunglasses. Her eyes were the same bloody hue as those of her cat, but set beneath long dark lashes, and now that he could see her closely, he realized her ears were pointed, and tufted on the end with fur.

    The cat, Ookami, stepped up beside her and jumped onto a wooden bench once more gazing at them with those unnervingly intelligent eyes.

    She looked at it and shrugged before turning back to the man. “He wants to know if he can talk to you. He doesn’t have human vocal chords obviously, but he can speak in your mind if you’ll let him.” Her eyes basically said that she doubted he would, but they underestimated him.

    Gathering his courage, Jarvis Morrison, aged 34, nodded, and decided to engage a cat in conversation.

    {Good. I just wanted to ask if it would be possible for me to get some water when this was all over, or perhaps some milk? Dog-girl over there may not want to ask for payment, but I’m not above a nice cool saucer…}

    The voice was undoubtedly masculine, though it sounded young, and it did indeed resound within his very mind itself. The smirk pulling at the corners of the woman’s mouth told him that she too had heard the cat, so he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” A question popped into his head and he looked back at the cat. “Dog-girl?”

    “I’m a Lycan.” She answered for him. “It means that basically I can turn into a large wolf at will…” Pointing, she opened her mouth wide and he watched in amazement as her abnormally pointed canines actually grew to be large serrated fangs. “It’s like a werewolf without that full moon rubbish….a Lycan is what happens when someone is born with the ability, or learns to control it, and thus moves past the stage of were-creature.”

    Jarvis took this all remarkably well for a normal human who had never in his life believed in fairy tales, then again, he’d been taking many things well since this…thing…had shown up in the church building. “So…how are you going to fight it?” He asked.

    “I have to know what it is first…I may not need to fight.” She answered, shrugging. “Some creatures are actually more peaceful than you humans believe, you just cannot understand their communication, and thus, you fear them and think they should be destroyed.” Rolling her eyes she shrugged and unzipped her jacket, dropping it to the bench beside Ookami. Beneath it she wore a veritable arsenal of weaponry and his eyes bugged. Around her waist was a belt containing not only what he could now see to indeed be swords, but various daggers, a strange coiled chain, a gun in a holster, and of all things, a dully gleaming black cross that rested towards the back of her left hip. Another belt that went up across her shoulder held many more daggers, some small pouches, and in the small of her back, another gun. “I’m not usually a pest control provider…but I needed to get away, and Kisho called offering this distraction…so bear with me, I’ve never done this professionally before, just in my personal life.”

    He nodded. “The creature is locked within that back room, behind the altar stage…here is the key.” His hand shook as he handed it to her, and he felt slightly afraid, just as he had when they’d first glimpsed the thing and locked it back there after discovering the remains of several cats and small dogs near it.

    Taking the key from him she smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “Trust me, I’m stronger than I look.” With that, she walked back to the door and unlocked it before throwing it open, a sword in her left hand, and her right on the hilt of the other. “Come out.” She ordered, and the creature obeyed.

    It was easily six feet tall, and its scaled skin was blacker than night. Though it was vaguely humanoid in appearance, it’s six arms bent in impossible ways as it stalked the tiny woman, yet she seemed unphased. Dull violet eyes watched her every move, and a forked tongue darted out from between fangs longer than hers to lick its lips. It wore no covering save for the torn remains of a cloth around its waist, but it appeared to be male. Dark red hair sprouted from its head in a long cascade down its back, reaching the base of its long tapered tail, which currently slashed the air along behind raptorial clawed feet.

    “Well, you are lovely..” She commented with sincere awe, sighing. “I certainly hope you’re friendly…”

    The creature’s answer came in the form of a violent hiss, and a swipe of one huge hand to her side, throwing her against the wall.

    She braced her feet as she hit and pushed off immediately, momentum carrying her all the way to the thing as she slashed out with both swords, avoiding four of the six arms skilfully until the other two came to grip her small waist and throw her once more. She dropped the swords then and cursed. The cat leapt from his bench and suddenly, a cat sized dragon was flying at the creature, striking out with its talons, but only to be swatted away. “s**t…too many arms..better go for a distance approach then.” Daggers bounced harmlessly off of shielded arm plates and she dodged an attack of its tail as Ookami became a crow to fly away from its arms again. “Oh brother!” Drawing her first gun she fired. The 9mm glock seemed to do little or no damage when it hit the creature and she called out in a foreign language, her speech garbled and husky.

    Strangely, the creature stopped and tilted its head to the side, regarding her once more, and this time, with much less violence. Ookami landed and once more took on the form of a cat, watching with a feline grin.

    “Ah…” Her face broke into a smile and she walked forward without hesitance, placing her hand on the beings chest. It gave a strange coo, almost like an animal being stroked as she lightly patted it. “It’s alright Jarvis…this poor thing is no creature at all.”

    “What do you mean?” He called. Was the woman out of her mind? She’d just been thrown around by that monster!

    “He was human.” Came the unexpected answer. “He’s been shifted into a demon by a powerful curse, speaking a demonic calming word seems to have worked just fine..I just have to reverse this affliction somehow..and that’s never been my forte…luckily, I have a cheat-code of sorts.”

    The human man stepped forward, regarding the cursed individual with wide eyes. “You mean that thing was a man?”

    “He IS a man.” Namea answered. “I’m going to fix him…lesse…I know I brought some of-ah!” From the small pouch she pulled out a stone that resembled an uncut emerald and held it before the transformed demon. “Please eat this.” She asked It, patting its head as it leaned down and took the stone daintily in its mouth. “It’s a simple compound that should reverse just about any demonic transformation, given that you’ve not spent more than one moon cycle as this demon.”

    The creature visibly began to shrink, growing smaller as smoke poured from it and its skin almost seemed to bubble and shift. Soon, a man of average heigh stood there, blinking and looking around with wide green eyes. “Wha-…I’m me!” he cried joyously, looking at the woman. “You’ve done it!”

    “Yes…but it’s a temporary fix, I have to figure out what put the curse on you..”
    “It’s this!” Cried the former demon, holding up a ring on his finger that seemed to be pure, heavy gold. “I came into the church to count money for the father and it was sitting there, in the offering basket. I just wanted to try it on, honest…but before I knew it, I was that..thing.” His eyes were wide, frightened, and Namea knew him to be telling the truth as she removed the ring from his finger and examined it.

    “Hmm…you’re right. There’s a powerful enchantment on this thing…let me see if I can…” the ring burst into black flame and she concentrated on it, watching as suddenly a drop of something inky black fell onto the ground. “There. That was the curse upon it…there should be no more.”

    Jarvis looked at her. “Amazing!” He exclaimed.

    She merely shrugged and led the two men outside of the church, handing the ring to an astounded Father Corbin. “Your demon was actually your assistant father, and he’s fine now, but I suggest you bless any other jewellery you receive before trying it on.”
    Father corbin nodded in shock and looked at Jarvis. “How ever can we thank you?” He asked.

    “I believe a saucer of cold milk is at least in order for Ookami.” His friend answered, to which Namea smiled and the cat purred very audibly.

    The preacher looked confoundedly from the strange young woman, to the cat, and back to the member of his congregation, but who was he to argue. What would a preacher know of Demons and talking cats?