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Rubbing a hand against his forehead, Sam walked out of the “club” as it had been called.

To him, it seemed more like a bar with the lights turned low, loud music that he didn’t really like, and a lot of men who really needed to re-evaluate their lives.

Sighing, Sam went down the steps and started walking along the sidewalk. So far, he hadn’t had much luck in finding someone who fit what he was looking for.

Admittedly he was being picky, but he felt like that was acceptable. He could have easily have just taken the nice lady in the booth to the parking garage Sam had parked in. Taken her right there in the booth, or gotten her into his back-seat.

But that’d be glamoring her to the point that she wouldn’t remember it, not caring if she had a significant other or not, and that he didn’t give a damn about her own situation.

And I’m above that.

Aren’t I?

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sam kept walking. He wasn’t starving to death, but he really did want to have a nice meal so he could work some good magic tomorrow.

Glancing up and to the side, he crossed by a billboard that read the time as ten o’clock.

Still early. We can make this work. We just have to be… strategic.

Let’s try an actual bar. Those seem a lot like taverns. And we always had decent luck there.

It’ll certainly be easier to talk to someone.

The several conversations he’d try to strike up with ladies in the club had turned into a shouting match. Ones that still weren’t loud enough to communicate effectively.

A trio of women were heading his way. They were dressed well and seemed a step above the women he’d been approaching at the club.

Wearing clothes that seemed more like they’d gone out after work, they had the look of professional career women.

They were eying him long before he got close to them.

“Ah, excuse me,” Sam said, stepping to one side and out of the path of the women. He didn’t want to be in their way, but he’d take the opportunity to ask a question. “I’m new around here. If you don’t mind me asking, do you know a good place to get a drink around here?”

Two of the women looked like they wanted to stay and talk, but also that they shouldn’t. It was usually a good sign they were in a relationship. The third looked like she just wanted to leave.

“Alcohol or…?” asked one of the two women.

“Either or. Like I said. I’m new here. I know no one, and nothing,” Sam said with a grin.

Chewing at her lip, the woman pointed back the way they’d apparently come from.

“Down that way. The Winged Horn,” she said. “If you’re looking for alcohol that is. There’s a coffee shop just past it as well.”

“Thanks much,” Sam said, giving them another smile. Turning, he walked in the direction they’d suggested.

It didn’t take him long to find the place. Except when he stared up at the sign, he got a strange feeling about it.

He’d been expecting a horn like a drinking horn for some reason. Except it was a horn of the musical instrument variety. And it had wings attached to it.

Angel symbology.

If there’s an angel inside, we’ll just turn around and get out of here. I don’t have the patience or time to deal with them right now.

Walking up the steps, Sam opened the door and stepped inside.

It was much more of what he’d been looking for. And he knew it the moment he saw it.

The music was there, TVs in the corners and over the main bar, and a lot of people sitting, talking, drinking, and generally just socializing.

Much… much better.

Smiling, Sam walked over to the bar, looking through the crowd as he went.

Not a large number of paranormal creatures. This might be ideal. Vampire… Werewolf… and… what is that?

Looks like there’s been a new generation of things that aren’t human.

Sam was a master of illusion and glamors. No one could hide what they were from him.

But he did have to know what they were first to actually know.

Sliding up into an open spot at the bar, Sam leaned onto the counter top and waited with a smile for a bartender.

All around him he got the feeling that a good number of the women were giving him the once over.

This is perfect.

A young busty woman in a tank top wandered over his way from the other side of the bar-top. She had caramel colored eyes and light-brown short curly hair. She was rather pretty on top of all that with an impressive figure.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“Whatever you recommend,” Sam said, then pushed ever so gently when she met his eyes. “And thanks for buying me the round.”

“Of course!” she said, giving him a wide and flirty smile. “Haven’t seen you around before, why not buy you your first one. You’re new here, right? What’s your name?”

“Call me Sam. How about you?”

“Cindy,” said the bartender, pulling a glass out from below.

“And yeah, I’m very new. Any regulars I should stay away from?” he asked her, keeping her ensnared with his eyes. He was keeping the glamor light and gentle. He didn’t want to over-whelm her. As long as he could keep her like this she’d think everything was natural.

“The owner, really. She’s a cunt,” said the woman, filling up the glass from a tap. “All the regulars are nice enough. The bitch over there can be a nasty cunt if you get her on a bad day.”

The bartender had pointed out the lone Vampire in the crowd, Sam noted.

“Got it. You’ve been incredibly helpful,” Sam said. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Kinda. He’s a dick though and I’ve been thinking about dropping him. I can’t keep paying for our stuff by myself, ya know?” she asked.

“You’re right of course. You deserve someone who’s putting in just as much as you are,” Sam said. It was a common problem he’d seen with relationships. If someone put in more than the other, the resentment started.

“I do,” said the woman, putting a small paper square down in front of him. It had the word “Cindy” written on it, followed by a phone number. She set the glass down atop it and gave him a smile and a wink. Then she wandered off to the next person she needed to serve a drink to.

Alright, definitely doing better here already.

Clubs are… not what I wanted.

Pocketing the paper for later, Sam picked up his drink, and wandered off to a table.

The whole goal of tonight was to find someone to eat from. He was also learning a considerable amount about the current state of the world.

"-two years ago marks the anniversary of when they were first seen,” said a news anchor on the TV. “And haven’t been seen since.”

Sam glanced up to the display and saw it was two large men sitting behind a desk.

News. Always doom and gloom.

Oh! An Imp! What luck. And she doesn’t have any contract magic in her that I can sense.

Off to one side was a young woman. She was seated by herself, and was looking at the watch on her wrist. Her other hand held a drink that was looking rather empty.

She had long red hair that had a few clips in it so that it hung behind her, but had a style to it.

Her eyes were blue with long thin green strands of color coming out from the pupil. She was wearing what he’d call a business suit and was probably in her early twenties.

This’ll be perfect. I can feed from her, and then contract her as my first Imp.

Picking up his drink, Sam walked over to the woman.

“Hello there,” Sam said, waiting for her to look up to him.

It was important to have Imps in a Planar Lord’s retinue. They could be fed Essence, travel the planes, and remain indefinitely without being summoned.

They were crucial, even.

Lifting her head up, the woman brought her eyes up to his.

Freezing in place, she stared at him. Like a rabbit staring down a snake.

Finally, she blinked.

“H-h-hello,” she said, her drink clattering to the table in front of her as it slipped from her stiff fingers.

With a clunk, her glass hit the table as she scrambled to grab it as if it were going to jump away from her.

In trying to save her drink, she only managed to knock it over, the entire contents of the glass spilling out onto her lap.

“Damnit,” she cursed, leaping to one side. “Just one thing after another.”

Sam easily picked up the glass, and set it right side up. Grabbing a dispenser of napkins from a nearby table, he pulled out a handful, and immediately handed them to the woman.

“I’d offer to do it myself, but that might be a bit forward,” Sam said.

“Uh, yeah,” said the woman, taking the napkins. She began blotting at the fabric, the frown on her face wide and unhappy.

“I just bought this, too,” she complained.

“You could always just use some essence magic, could you not?” Sam asked. He’d decided to play it straight with her in his approach. If she was to be his first, he’d need her trust.

Your First Imp must be someone you rely on.

Sam didn’t let his thoughts get away from him. He’d learned his lesson, no reason to dwell on it.

“What? The hell is essence magic?” said the woman.

“What…? Wait, you-” Sam paused mid sentence. Looking around, he realized no one had noticed she’d spilled on herself.

Everyone was in their own world.

Reaching out to his stash of essence on his home plane. He could always access the essence there, even if he wasn’t there. With it, he crafted a sliver thin thread of it and pushed it into the woman.

An aura surrounded the woman for a split second as her soul devoured the essence in a flash.

It was clearly the first time she’d ever experienced essence. Which meant she didn’t even know she was an Imp.

“That,” Sam said, when the woman looked to him again. Her eyes wide and shocked. “Use that. Just… wish away the stain and the liquid. Concentrate on it with your thoughts.”

“What’d you do? I can… everything-” the woman stopped talking, then looked down to her own dress.

Sam felt the flash of unstable, unguided, and unfocused magic. Suddenly, the woman’s dress was clean and dry.

“Oh my god,” murmured the woman. “Oh my god. Am I drunk? What? Is this a dream?”

“No dream,” Sam said. “For all your life you’ve felt different. Strange. Perhaps even like you didn’t understand other people.

“And beyond all that… hungry.”

The woman was looking at him again now, her face complete shock, her eyes wide and almost unseeing.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Come with me. Let’s talk,” Sam said. “You have much to learn.”

“I can’t I’m waiting for… waiting… I feel empty again,” she said. “Can I have some more?”

“Of course you can. Come. We’ll talk,” Sam said. Leaving his drink where it sat, he started walking toward the exit.

The woman followed him.

“Wait,” she said, catching up to him. “I don’t even know your name. You don’t even know mine.”

“Name’s Sameerixis, but you can call me Sam. And you are?”

Sam pushed open the door and left the bar.

“My name’s Erma,” said the woman.

“Hello Erma,” Sam said, getting to the sidewalk. He started walking back toward the parking garage.

With any luck, he could contract Erma, feast on her back at her place, and be home before it was two am. 

“Can… can I have more of whatever that was now? It hurts,” Erma said. She was clearly suffering from Essence withdrawal.

“You’re an Imp, Erma,” Sam said, and then gave her a single drop of Essence. It would calm her craving for an hour or so. “An Imp who never knew what she was, though that’s not uncommon. Probably one of your grandparents was too, though they may not have known it either.”

“Oooh, that feels so much better,” Erma said with a sigh. “Grandma probably. Shes always been a little weird.”

“Weird and successful I imagine. Seemed to know things she shouldn’t, or had really good guesses, or hunches? Imps without Essence are more like Humans with some extra bits. They usually do well for themselves without help.”

“Yeah… she… she runs her own business and everything. I work there. It’s nothing huge but… we make good money,” Erma said.

Oh? That’ll help. I can borrow some money from her if I need to.

“And you get hunches and weird guesses, too?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. I do. I… I’ve never been to that bar before but I knew I should be there tonight. I hadn’t planned on being there before today.

“I was going to meet a friend there. She was late and I had decided to leave. I was going to just leave. You showed up right as I was deciding to get out of there.”

Sam nodded his head. Imps were lucky and managed to follow a fated course sometimes.

He was flattered that he was apparently that fated destination.

“Happy to be your end result. Are you seeing anyone?” Sam asked.

“No. I usually end up scaring them off. The guesses and hunches,” Erma said. “What… why… I-”

“Great,” Sam said, nodding his head. “Let’s go back to your place.”

“Uhm… I really… I don’t… I… I…” Erma said, her voice trailing off. “What are you?”

“I’m an Extra Planar Lord. And I’m going to make you my First Imp. You’ll bind yourself to me, and become mine.”

Sam was going to make her contract iron-clad.

“I see. And why would I want to do that?” Erma asked. “What do I get out of it?”

“Essence. Any Essence. It’s what you’re hungry for, and want. Just like-” Sam paused to push another drop into the starving Imp. “That. Then again, you can always say no. See if you can’t get it from someone else since you can’t make it on your own.”

Beside him, Erma actually moaned aloud, her aura flaring wildly as it devoured the Essence. He could actually feel her entire being turning toward him, hoping for more.

“Oh god. Thats… that’s so wonderful. No, no. This is… no. This is a high pressure sale,” Erma said. “I… no. Okay. Yes. No. No!”

Laughing to himself, he had to applaud the young woman. She was doing a fantastic job of fighting her own desire.

There was no sense in rushing her. All he had to do was feed from her once, and feed her in return, and she’d be sold.

“Tell you what,” Sam said, turning toward the parking garage. “Let’s go to your place, we’ll have great sex, and I’ll feed you some of the Essence our coupling generates. I’ll give you the contract after that, and you read it over at your leisure.”

“What? What do you mean have sex? I never said I’d sleep with you,” Erma said.

“Fair point. If you want more Essence tonight, without a contract, you need to have sex with me. It’s how I make Essence. I’ll give you twenty-percent of what I generate from the act,” Sam said simply. Stopping at the entrance to the garage, he waited there.

If this went badly, he’d just see about the booth guard, or come back to the bar tomorrow night.

Erma’s beautiful face was clouded with doubt and thought. Then something broke in her thought pattern, and she nodded her head.

Must be that Imp intuition again.

“Forty,” she said, looking up to him.

“Huh. Let’s… skip the back and forth and just go to thirty. What’s your address?” Sam asked.

Erma smiled at him. It looked almost as predatory as he knew his own was.

***

Before Sam had even gotten into Erma’s apartment, she had her tongue down his throat.

He knew first hand that Imp’s responded aggressively to things when they were out of Essence, but he hadn’t ever had one go at him like this in the past.

She had one hand fumbling at the door to her apartment with her keys, and the other hand was down his pants.

Her hand had already closed down tight around his shaft by the time the door swung open.

Stumbling through it, she pulled him along after her.

“Oh what is wrong with me,” Erma said, closing the door and locking it. “I can’t stop thinking about sex and my brain and body are telling me this is the right thing.”

“Again, I’m flattered that your instincts are guiding you to me. Now… bedroom, or couch?” Sam asked, dismissing his constructed clothes. He’d only have to deal with them for another day at most thankfully.

He was starving. Starving and actually very aroused. Erma was beautiful and willing.

“Bedroom, over that way,” Erma said with a hand gesture. Then she was yanking at her coat and blouse while kicking her heels off to one side

Smiling, Sam went to the indicated direction.

He found her bedroom easily enough. It was tastefully decorated, and seemed almost uninteresting with how ordinary it was.

Getting onto the bed, Sam laid himself down and put a hand behind his head.

Erma appeared a few seconds later. Her hair was a bit wild and she was absolutely naked.

She was far better built than he’d suspected. She had a generous chest and hip with a narrow waist. He’d underestimated how good looking she was at the bar.

<Redacted. Because biology is evil.>

“That was great, Erma,” Sam said.

Erma only moaned a little in response.

So much better than a construct.

Now, let’s get that contract together so she can read it later.

“We’ll go again in thirty minutes,” Sam said, and let out a content sigh. He was feeling pretty high on life.

Erma nodded her head fractionally, a soft moan escaping between her lips.