Aaron turned over the information that Iehan had given him. Ritual conditions. Nephilim. A cult to Astaroth after Lille. Drugs and terrorism. It was a strange issue to tackle. The memories of this body, well now, his body were of darkened alleys standing guard looking ominous. This man hadn't done all of the horrific things he witnessed. He was violent but he wasn't the sort of deviant that forced himself on women... not like his boss did. He hurt people, carved them up and at times, ate them to prove how much of a man he was and to make sure that no evidence of the murders he committed remained. They were small time atrocities but atrocities all the same.
It just proved his point that Lille could not fall into the hands of the Apagos or the Kaliput. He wasn't sure if he wanted to let Astaroth walk the earth again in any body. A grand duke of hell second in power to Lucifer and Bezzlebub. If Lille was in fact a hellsaint, her soul was intact. It possessed a stillness that reminded him of the purity of the void. He searched his memory and found an image of a man, beaten, shackled in a pit with a soul so ruined by the abyss that he was in tatters, a perfect vessel to open the pit.
The Kaliput's plan was to place Lille and her opposite together. He'd transfer something into her and hell would walk the earth. He pressed his hand against his eyes. He couldn't let them meet but the information for finding the imprisoned hellsaint and all of the body's contacts were in the metadata of the cellphone they turned over when they landed. The SDS did not trust him for good reason. Until today, this man was determined to capture, torture, and sacrifice Lille and tear the flesh any that got in his way. He'd been promised power and women for his devotion.
A lifetime of violence at the hands who were stronger, followed by countless rejection from women, and then finally, some measure of respect as he climbed the ranks of the Apagos. Each drop of blood was token towards the man he wanted to become. No one would dare spit on Pedro Martinez again. No one would take anything he owned, not a peso, not a woman, not without paying the toll. Then came Pedro's big break. Just go to this warehouse and knock out this woman. The boss handed him an envelope with a pretty woman's picture in it.
Aaron couldn't make out what the man said but he got the sensation that Pedro was grinning. Something else had been promised in exchange for the task of bringing the woman to them. Aaron rolled back the memory and saw a picture of Lille from multiple angles. Someone had been stalking her. Recognition of the task came with a flood of images of Lille in various states of undress and compromising positions.
"What condition do you want her in?" Pedro grinned.
"Alive, breathing." The seedy voice responded in Spanish.
"She's fair game then?" Pedro's voice laughed.
Aaron's eyes opened wide as he realized the intention that came with the fantasies, feeling nauseated. He jerked away from the bed and slammed his fist into the dresser. The loud, fleshy crack and accompanying pain that erupted up his arm diverted the blood flow back to where it belonged. He hated this body more than he had before. Death at Lille's hands had been too good for Pedro. If Aaron could bring Pedro's consciousness back, he would have flayed the man alive.
"Vile disgusting excuse of a man! How dare he? How dare any of them even dream of such a thing?!" Aaron seethed.
It was a strange new sensation, a physical weight at the bottom of his stomach that erupted up and sat at the bottom of his throat.
"Death is too good for them. I'll gut them all."
Aaron pulled from the the dresser shaking his aching hand. He understood what the cult wanted from Lille. Bringing back a demon lord in any body would extend his power and influence, especially if Lille had the ability to perform great feats of magic before his presence. Her power would only be enhanced with a demon inhabiting her body but how much of Lille would be left inside? Pedro was only in Aaron's body as a residual memories locked into the flesh but the soul and personality had fled, splashed upon a dirty brick floor from a well placed bullet.
He ran a hand through his hair as he walked out of the room, no longer wanting to be plagued by the burden of dreams.
"What's wrong?" Lille stood in the shadows of the kitchen just steps from the door. Exhaustion edged her eyes and her expression was full of concern. She wore a thin tank top that bared her stomach and soft shorts that fell above her thighs. His eyes travelled down to her calf and cane, there were more bruises along her sides and legs than he realized. A rose of purple blossomed just above her right breast. The symmetry and shape of her body was pleasing, it was no wonder that the Watchers had fallen.
"I didn't mean to wake you. You shouldn't be standing for long on that, let me help you to a chair" Aaron moved to Lille's side, guiding her to the living room couch to sit.
She down and yawned. "It's fine. I don't sleep well, any way." Her eyes drifted over him, her eyebrow raised as she blinked a few times. She rubbed at her eyes and frowned. She covered her eyes with a soft grown, "Why?"
"Why what?" Aaron frowned, uncertain of why Lille seemed upset. He leaned closer, trying to interpret her expression. He noticed her face change color. "Lille?"
Lille refused to look at him as she pointed at his lap with other hand. "Why aren't you wearing pants? Shorts, anything?" Her face was red, Aaron decided that she was definitely blushing. She was embarrassed.
Aaron blinked and stared down at his lower body to find that he hadn't put on a scrap of clothing. His unconscious response to Lille has obvious. Lille threw a blanket over him, still red. "Aaron, if you're going to be in body, at least try to act human," she scolded in an embarrassed hiss. "We're not together, you have to wear pants!"
"You mean that if we were, I could be naked?"
Lille glared, her gaze flicked down to the steeped fabric draped over his lap and then back to his face as she considered it. "Aaron." A threat lingered in her voice.