Alex reached out to take her hand. She didn’t flinch, but didn’t respond, either. “My feelings for you are genuine, Alex, but I am also not what I was before we met. I am weakened, but I also feel… soft. Comfortable as I am with you, I resent being reduced this way.
“Inside that house, I was not so restricted. I had been fulfilling my purpose when I was summoned.”
“And you don’t want me to see that.”
“I worry that it will come between us, yes.”
“Maybe we need to confront your past, instead? At least this much?” His suggestion was gentle, but he could see the way it made her jaw clench. “Do you miss it?”
“My emotions are mixed,” she admitted. “You should not mistake my feelings for you as some window into my soul, Alex. I am freer now as your ‘slave’ than I have ever been. Despite my loss of power that is precious to me. I am grateful to you. I feel genuine loyalty growing between us. Yet I despise my weakness. It is hard to distinguish these feelings from one another.
“I care for you. I mean no harm to those who are close to you-your mother, friends, associates. Nor am I randomly cruel…but none of that makes me a nice person. I am not much like you.”
Alex listened, then finally nodded toward the house. “Show me.”
The pair walked up the cobblestone steps to the front door, each filled with trepidation but resolved to face this. The doorknob was one of those keyless entry sets that Alex had only seen in office environments. Lorelei punched in the correct combination and entered after they heard the door unlock.
Inside, Alex found vaulted ceilings and finely made wood paneling. Everything was quiet. The floors had new carpeting, the heater was on…and there was a faint, unpleasant smell at the front door. It was something akin to a nursing home.
“Feel free to take anything you like,” Lorelei said absently. “I suspect it won’t be missed.” She wasn’t especially loud, but she didn’t whisper, either. Alex followed her through the entrance and foyer to a spacious and well-furnished living room. Lights gradually rose as she entered.
“Lots of nice artwork,” Alex noted.
“Much of this is overpriced junk,” she shrugged, looking the living room over. “What you see here is the decor of a man who wants expensive artwork simply to have it. This is not eclectic; this is collecting for appearances. There is no sense of his artistic tastes because he has none.”
Alex sighed. “I’d never have known that. This is why I worry about boring you. You’re way more sophisticated than I’ll ever be.”
“Don’t doubt yourself. You are far more interesting than you realize. Ah.” Lorelei stepped over to a black glass coffee table that had been pushed away from the couch.
On the coffee table was a small, expensive-looking purse, a small, discarded red party dress, and stains. Dried, white stains stood out across the dress and the coffee table.
Alex didn’t need much imagination to know what had gone on here. He considered that as Lorelei reached over for the purse, ignoring everything else, and double-checked its contents. That Lorelei slept with many other men was no secret. She had doubtlessly been as dirty and shameless with those other men as she’d been with Alex. Probably far dirtier, he knew, considering his youth and inhibitions. But he hadn’t given it much thought.
He didn’t stare. It took only a moment to conclude all this. What did require a few seconds was the search through his feelings. Lorelei watched through an unreadable poker face until he looked back at her and shrugged.
“Are you bothered by what you see?” she asked.
He paused, wanting to ensure he answered honestly, and shook his head. “No,” he decided. “Not especially. I guess it’s better to confront this than to wonder, but no. I don’t think I’m bothered.”
“Being told and seeing for oneself are entirely different,” Lorelei said, her voice still devoid of emotion. “I am, as I have told you, born to use the lusts of others against them. I have no shame, no inhibition, and I have had countless sexual partners. I am a true slut. Whore. Choose your term.”
Again, Alex shook his head. “Don’t. I don’t like those words. Not used in anything but fun. They aren’t fair.”
“Fair?”
“A whore is someone who provides sex for money. I don’t see the crime in that. That could obviously be rough business and I know it chews people up but I’m not going to judge. Anyone who’s got a serious problem with a woman doing that should step up and offer her a different job. And ‘slut’ is a double standard. Why’s it okay for men to have many partners, but not women? That doesn’t add up.
“I want to get laid a lot. Does that make me a slut? Maybe, but more to the point, should I be ashamed of it? And if I feel that way about myself, should I feel that way about others?”
Her stony expression softened. “You don’t sound like you are only nineteen.”
He offered a smirk. “Hey, I’ll be twenty in a couple months. Getting old and wise.”
“And yet you worry that you are unsophisticated…I hope you are being honest with yourself.”
“I think I am,” he nodded. “I admit you’ve changed my outlook, but I’ve crushed on girls who’ve been through more than a couple boyfriends. I didn’t judge. I don’t think I feel jealous here…I don’t know. Is it bad that I don’t want you to be with other men? Unfair?”
Lorelei shrugged. “Perhaps if we had to hold ourselves to strict standards. But we do not. I am not bothered, as I have said. You are the master.” A faint glimmer returned to her eye, along with that wicked smile. “And I am your slut.” She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, and then her grim demeanor returned.
“There is more. You’re sure you want to follow me?”
“I am,” Alex affirmed.
She brought him through the living room to the staircase and ascended coolly. He followed, noticing the foul smells continued, but said nothing. They rounded the corner of the staircase and passed several different rooms filled with nice but bland furniture.
The stench grew ever stronger. Alex had all too good of a guess of what smelled so bad.
At the end of the hall were closed double doors. Lorelei reached for the doorknob, looked back to Alex with grim resolve, and then pushed the doors open.
Inside was a dark, spacious master bedroom and the overwhelming scent of human waste and decay. Alex thought instinctively of holding his breath, then realized that was pointless. Lorelei entered without hesitation or reaction. Alex decided he’d have to just suck it up.
He found a light switch and turned it on. The bedroom had a high ceiling and lush carpeting. To one side was a walk-in closet with sliding mirror doors. An open doorway led to a bathroom fit for a rock star.
The king-sized bed had dark blue curtains tied to the posts. Clothing lay scattered around the foot of the bed: Slacks, a man’s dress shirt, a tie. Lacy red panties and a bra.
Lorelei strode past the bed on her way into the closet, coldly acknowledging none of it.
The body lay in the bed, covered only by a silk sheet. He didn’t look like an old man, but he was clearly older than Alex. His face was so drawn and pale that it was hard to tell. Eyes closed. Blond hair. A couple days’ stubble. No shirt. An empty Evian bottle under one still hand. The pillowcase was stained with sweat, but the sheet that covered him was stained darkly at his hips with blood and fouler stuff.
“I thought…” Alex mumbled, stepping closer. He was unsettled, repulsed and yet unable to look away. He knew from everything Lorelei had said that this must be some vile, awful man, but Alex saw only someone who’d died in his apparent prime. “I thought they were supposed to waste away?”
“Usually,” came her indifferent voice from inside the closet. “Some push themselves too far too fast. The most egotistical are sometimes quick to their ends. He was especially foolish. He heard bones begin to crack and tried to laugh it off. I had no reason to argue his choices.”
“Oh my God,” Alex breathed. It was an obvious enough joke: “What a way to go,” someone would say if this were on television. But all Alex saw was an ugly, slow death. The man must have lingered in pain for a long time.