Lying on crumpled, broken wings... a drunken mess in the midst of a city that never sleeps. The stagnant air smelled of spilt champagne and cigarettes. What sort of god would have allowed the devil himself to creep into the room of his faithful follower as he slept? I don’t know how long I watched from the shadows... not daring to make a sound lest I disturb his peaceful slumber. The minutes ticked by... painfully slow as I approached the bedside, gazing down upon his face for the very first time.

He was just as beautiful as I had imagined... this fallen angel.

His eyelids fluttered and a low, incoherent mummer escaped his full lips. I reached down to remove the half empty bottle that leaned against his chest, setting it quietly on the floor beside the bed as I moved to sit beside him. Dark hair spilled over the sweat soaked pillows and his head turned ever so slightly to one side granting me a perfect view of the vein that pulsed just beneath the taut skin of his throat. I leaned closer... drawn in by the heat of this mortal body so near to me. It would have been so easy.

My face was so very near to his that I had to fight back the urge to wake him... to jolt him out of his sleep for the sheer satisfaction of seeing the fear in his eyes when he realised that his plan had failed and that this perfect predator had been victorious in the first round of this dangerous game we played. Evil always triumphs in the end. Instead, I carefully unhooked the silver chain from around his neck and slipped it into my shirt pocket.

Checkmate.

Bold with my own devious little victory, I brushed my lips lightly over his. He tasted of defeat and expensive French champagne. His lips parted and he moaned softly as my fingers moved through his thick hair. I wondered if my gentle touch had stirred dreams of some lover from the past. Those very same pale, musicians fingers could have crushed his skull if I so desired.

Suddenly, something clattered to the floor. I shot up like a bat out of hell, cursing myself for my own nervous stupidity when I saw the small silver cell phone at my feet. He didn’t move. He was dead to the world, or so the saying goes... though the steady beating of his heart was maddeningly clear. Just as well that this should happen. Drunk on my own victory, I had nearly forgotten my reasons for being here. I gathered up the tiny phone then I searched the room until I had found the other objects I that came for as well.

Taking these with me and leaving nothing but a note and a small token of my affection, I vanished like a phantom into the night.