The rain fell with a vengeance. As if each droplet were a dispossessed Angel as it rocketed Earthward, to cleanse the city of Bradbury with its righteous fury. Inside, the gray surrendered it self to the Twilight of her gaze.<br/><br/>Perhaps she was one of the Fallen. Banished to this mortal drudgery, for she was a thing to behold. As out of place in Bradbury as the rays of sun.<br/><br/>He took in the shop and all of its artifacts. His cool, gray eyes matched his stony countenance, as  his features seem to have been chiseled from the peaks of some remote and foreboding landscape<br/><br/>Her lithe body could not be denied as much as her aura, though intangible, radiated a disconcerting sensuality.<br/><br/>He arched an eyebrow. The only emotive response he allowed to be acknowledged.<br/><br/>“Indeed. Your lack of faith is distressing. A pity, given how much your father values such a Christian virtue, but then again, all virtues are fallacy. The only virtue is to the Self.”<br/><br/>He moved closer and her scent was upon the air. Not  perfumed , but one of secreted desire. Her sex was betraying her. The red flower of her femininity pulsating in gossamer fabric.<br/><br/>An indulgence on his part, perhaps. He knew women.<br/><br/>Tasted them.<br/><br/>Consumed them.<br/><br/>As he would her.<br/><br/>“So, I am here and let us begin our Dance, shall we?