Hanerisu sat at the kitchen table while Kekkon fed him food a morsel at a time. He had started out using chopsticks, but they had discovered it was more enjoyable, although more time consuming, if he just used his fingers.

Hanerisu couldn’t use his own fingers, because his latest master had broken them all, one by one, and was just about to test the limits of his eyeballs, when the Palace security had intervened.

Hanerisu’s hands were encased in plastic to hold them still while nanomachines helped rebuild the damaged bones and tissues. This meant that he needed to be taken care of for the next few days while he healed.

“And just how did you get this particular job in the first place?” asked Hanerisu, when he had finished his latest mouthful of food. He was feeling happy despite his earlier ordeal, because the result was several days off and lots of time to be spent with Kekkon. He was still a little high from the painkillers he had been given by the doctor who had fixed his hands; they never could get the doses right.

“Threats and bribes, the same way everyone gets what they want here,” replied Kekkon, feeding himself now that Hanerisu had finished eating. “But for some reason nobody really wants to spend their time babysitting you. Apparently you’re very unfriendly compared to most of the other Keys!”

When Kekkon had finished eating they both went to sit in the third room. Kekkon sat behind Hanerisu and began to comb his long wavy hair. He was happy to do this for Hanerisu, but didn’t have the skill or patience to braid it for him. Hanerisu didn’t mind, the contact on its own was more than enough.

“I could get him you know,” said Kekkon, after he had been combing for ten minutes.

“No,” said Hanerisu.

“But no one would know, I’ll leave it long enough so that no one connects it to the Palace.”

“No,” repeated Hanerisu.

“But what he did was . . . evil.”

Hanerisu laughed. “I wont be lectured on evil by an Akuma! And if you want to destroy evil you should start with here.”

“Don’t you think I’d raze this place if I could? You know I’m not strong enough for that.”

“I know my love. My point is, he did what he did because the Palace told him it was alright for him to do it.” Hanerisu paused, thinking. “There must have been a mix-up at reception, he wanted someone who’d scream and cry and beg for mercy, but he got me instead.”

“I don’t know how you can be so forgiving,” said Kekkon, then he laughed as he realised. “Of course, to forgive is divine. But what if he does it to someone else?”

“I doubt he has the courage.”

“Please. I could send him straight to hell.”

“You do that and they’ll find you for sure, what will I do if they take you away?”

“I won’t let them do that, I promise!” Said Kekkon, hugging Hanerisu fiercely and burying his face in the mass of his hair.

“You try to get back into hell, they will find you. Better to let him wallow in his own depravity for half a century, then when he dies he’ll send himself to hell and you’ll still be here with me.”

“Oh ok,” said Kekkon, with exaggerated disappointment in his voice.

“Promise me,” said Hanerisu, his voice serious even while he was pushing himself back into Kekkon’s embrace.

“I promise.”

That night, when Hanerisu was deeply asleep, exhausted by the events of the day and dosed up on painkillers, Kekkon left the suite and went up to the roof of the Palace.

Once there he abandoned his glamour and took off into the night. It was too dark for him to be easily seen, and maintaining his disguise took energy and concentration that was better spent on flying. He didn’t have a lot of time for flying, but every time he saw the broken wings tattooed on Hanerisu’s back he was grateful he still could. Normally his wings just got in the way. Even thought no one could see them there was always the risk of someone bumping into them. He had become very good at holding them clamped against his body.

The Palace had been built in a remote part of the desert. Originally a small village had been built nearby to accommodate the local workers, and over the centuries it had built up into a settlement that was now a city in its own right. There were two parts to the city, which had been called the Interzone for so long that no one remembered if it had ever had a proper name. There were the rich, walled off districts that housed the Palace workers, corrupt city officials, crime bosses, exiled warlords from across the solar system and out of date celebrities preparing for their next comeback. Then there was the rest of the city, which was a vast, order less sprawl of people, the poor, the disappeared and the plain invisible. A lot went on in the Interzone; anything could be bought or sold, many of the Palace’s clients got the money to pay for their Keys from the deals they made there.

Kekkon circled the city, simply enjoying the freedom of flying. Eventually he landed, and changed his form to that of a feral dog, guaranteeing his invisibility. This was not the same thing as casting a glamour, which merely changed how others perceived him. A change of form only took a single burst of concentration and energy. Like this he was free to concentrate, with his demon-dog senses, on the world around him.

Kekkon decided the quickest thing would be to try and pick up Hanerisu’s sent, which would still be strong on the man who had abused him. The city never stopped and the streets were still busy at night, but there were lots of stray dogs so Kekkon was ignored by all the people, and the other animals could sense Kekkon’s Akuma-ness and gave him a wide berth.

He wandered through the maze of streets and roads for several hours, passing shantytowns and palaces, abandoned rubbish dumps, half built parks, rundown community centres, vandalised solar stations, bars and brothels of every description, people fighting in the street, policemen taking bribes, and every variation of human and not-quite-human life.

Eventually he picked up a scent, it led him to one of the more expensive bars, one which had its own security and was therefore either a very safe place to be, or one of the most dangerous.

Kekkon went into an ally to change back into his Akuma form. He then cast a glamour over him self, became a businessman who looked like he could handle him self in a fight, but at the same time was not threatening enough to be worth getting into a fight with.

He walked into the bar. It was dark inside, but he could see perfectly well. People talked in pairs and small groups, all of them doing deals of one sort or another. He couldn’t see the man he was looking for, but he did see someone else he recognised, and he realised he had been following the wrong trail.

Sitting at the bar, talking to a woman with carrot coloured hair was the man who had bought Hanerisu’s Key for a night a few days ago. The man who, according to Hanerisu, was a fledgling vampire.

Kekkon had not had the time to see him properly while he had been at the Palace, and Hanerisu’s account of his stay had, as usual, been vague. Now he had the chance to really look, it was obvious what he was. It was also obvious that the woman he was talking to was an Akuma like him self, and she was looking straight at him, smiling dangerously.

Kekkon, forcing himself not to panic, walked out of the bar trying to be as casual as he had been when he walked in. A brief glance over his shoulder as he walked out the door showed him that she had returned to her conversation.

Once back in the ally Kekkon shed his disguise, putting up in its place the most powerful invisibility glamour he had, then he flew straight back to the Palace.

Hanerisu was asleep when Kekkon got back to the suite. He curled up around him on their bed of cushions and blankets and listened to him breath as he slept. He was glad he didn’t end up breaking his promise to Hanerisu, and even more glad that the Akuma at the bar had been too interested in her conversation to be bothered with him.