Salva Nos

A/N: Same notes apply. I still don't own Vincent. I wonder if I could work out a rent to own basis with Konami? Heh heh heh.

She has found my church. It is a symbol of my power. And of her power. A monument to all that is greatness.

*******************************

Heather stared blankly at the arcane books that lined the shelves. She was leery of examining them too closely. The pain kept coming back and she wondered if any little thing she did would trigger the head and gut splitting agony that overtook her.
"Hiya Heather."
Her entire body stiffened. In the last few hours she had faced her former self and her past and he had known the whole time. He had known the whole time. "You show up everywhere don't you?"
"You make me sound like some kind of unwanted pest." He wanted the hurt in his voice to be feigned and acidic. He wanted it to be that way. Whether it was he wasn't sure. He had offered her comfort. He had built a housing that made the beauty of heaven itself pale in comparison. And still she greeted him with the warmth that she would greet one of the creatures.
"Well, who are you anyway?"
"Haven't you realized that yet?"
***Your servant....***
"Yeah you're on Claudia's side."
"I told you not to put me in the same category as that madwoman!" Heather once again reminded herself that he was dangerous. Very dangerous. However, her apathy towards life had numbed the larger part of her social graces.
"Well you're pretty loony yourself" she spluttered.
"It's true that we believe in the same God..." His voice had taken on that silk quality again that rose the goose bumps on her flesh. "But I'm quite sane..." he added.
She remembered how his hands had felt on her bare skin. How his body had stood and worshiped her while the rest of the damn town had mocked her and thrown blood and dirt and vitriol in her face. "So why did you help me out then? Was that also part of trying to resurrect god?"
"It's not uncommon for people to worship the same God and still disagree."
***Claudia will never worship you as I do....***
"'God'? Are you sure you don't mean 'Devil'?"
***Tiresome Christian semantics!***
"Whichever you like. The point is that now I really am on your side." He edged towards her idly caressing one of her tan arms with his open hand. "I don't want God to be born."
***I don't want God to ravage your body....my body...mine.***
"It wouldn't be convenient"
***Inconvenient...inconvenient death and decay. You won't perish.***
"Much too unpredictable."
***Now I can predict...now I can see us my blessed one....***
"So you've been using me to stop Claudia, is that it? Do your own dirty work."
She was becoming too confident. He knew she could easily push past him. Easily walk out. Easily damn him to an eternity of darkness without his beloved savior. "My dirty work? I think we both have our own interests in mind." He let the words drip off his tongue like ichor or ambrosia. She didn't know which. Our own interests. Interest. Yes.
"You hate her too, don't you? You're the only one who can get it done. I don't have powers like the two of you." He tiptoed around the subject as he edged closer to her. She didn't back away from him this time. "Besides," he hissed in her ear, "I always hated getting all hot aweatweaty."
"Oh really?" Heather whispered back her breath tickling the hairs on his neck.
"I'm just looking out for myself." His voice was now a throaty growl. "Everyone does it." His hand hungrily reached for one of her breasts and she backed away from him.
"Don't stand there looking so smug," he snapped viciously. Heather's face paled. "You're the worst person in this room. You come here and enjoy spilling their blood and listening to them cry out. You feel excited when you step on them, snuffing out their lives."
***And I come here and enjoy you. Enjoy spilling in you. Enjoy listening to you cry out. Excitement....excitementexcitementexcitement***
"Are you talking about the monsters?"
"Monsters? They look like monsters to you?"
She gasped and raised a hand to her mouth to stifle her shock.
"Don't worry, it's just a joke."
Hunger overcoming him he took her raised hand and pressed it hard against the bulge in his pants.
***Let orshorship you....let me bow before you....let me***
His lips locked on hers viciously and she tumbled backwards against the corner desk. Yes. Now. Here. In the wonderful monument to power that he had built for her. Only for her. This was sacred.
Heather closed her eyes and felt herself lifted onto the desk. Her legs locked around Vincent's hips and her tongue lashed his. God would be born. She was already damned. Already condemned. Already lost.
She snaked a hand into his shirt, running her palm across the pallid skin of his chest, the light dusting of hair tickling her fingertips. Yet it only lasted a moment as he grasped her exploring hand and latched it firmly to his erection, moaning into her mouth.
His hands were free as she teased him...teased him....and he took the opportunity to remove the frightening pink undergarments she wore with one hand while the other hand desperately fumbled with the buttons of her vest seeking contact and flesh and pleasure.
His hand pressed insistently between her legs, one long finger slipping inside past her folds and into the welcoming warmth. She was so drenched...so ready for him...
***Let me worship you....***
He covered her mouth with his, drinking her in, sucking the life from her. His hips were pressed hard between her legs now and her hand was groping and searching, vainly trying to find completion. And then by pure luck or chance she pressed just the tip of his swollen and aching cock into her welcoming body.
***Oh GOD...give....***
She leaned back placing her palms flat on the desk. Her amber eyes were unreadable and he was conscious of only one thing, his own need.
Without interlude, without meaningful or even empty words he plunged into her. She cried out and rocked her head forward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. He couldn't tell if she had known other men. No. She carried the divine birth so she was untouched. Except by him. He marked her. Claimed her. She was his.
***Give....***
He clutched her breasts and with the drive of a madman began to thrust into her willing body. She ground against him, her legs wrapped behind him letting his length flow into her again and again.
***Give....***
His movements became harsh and jerky. Heather was whimpering, her eyes lolling back in her head as if she were one of her possessed minions. Then he felt it. He felt heat explode inside her and she let out a cry that could have been pain or pleasure...she was granting him salvation....
***Give....me....***
He pounded mercilessly, overcome with his own need. She was lost in the pleasurable agony of her orgasm. The warmth...the closeness...
***GIVE...ME...***
Vincent's hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, his teeth gritted, his eyes clenched shut. And then the ache came to a pinnacle. It was a thrill. Greater than power. Greater than wealth. Sheer pleasure. He jerked forward one final time and then fiercely grasped her ass in an attempt to bury himself in her until they would meld as his cock jerked and sinfully spilled into his perfect vessel.
***........Absolution...........***
He collected himself and started to walk away smoothing his sweat drenched hair from his forehead. "By the way, I forgot to you you. Did you get the seal of Metatron?"
"What's that?"
He bristled. "You don't have it?? Leonard was carrying it!"
"Oh, you mean this thing?" She retrieved the disc from her rumpled skirt with a degree of difficulty.
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, that's it. As long as we have that, we're fine."
"Here," he mumbled. "Take this." He handed her the book of Otherworld Laws and walked outside the door, which he leaned against for a moment.
***To hell with you Claudia. Paradise has already come***