THE DEMON SAID: "LET'S FALL INTO TEMPTATION."

"Why don't you lock me up with joy and kisses?

Lock me up with Love?

Chain me to your heart's desire

I don't want you to stop."

The Cab, Lock Me Up

When Set stepped in the apartment, the loudest sound his ears could pick up was his breath. The idea of Sybil still being out increased his uneasiness and gave birth to a twisted sort of annoyance—an illogical feeling that was alarmingly close to possessiveness. Set slammed the door, kicked off his shoes and stomped into the living room.

Scrumptiously curled up on the sofa, Mikhail waggled his ears and threw him a suspicious glance. Set stiffened, his heartbeat speeding up as the cat's vertical pupils followed his steps—they kept eye contact all the while he crossed the room. To be honest, it wasn't the sinister gleam in the feline's blue-green eyes that made his heart twist, but the weight of the paper bag he was carrying.

Set forced his gaze away and dashed to the guest room. He thrust the gun in the second drawer of his bedside table, at the very bottom of it—hidden behind the underwear Maria had bought him—even if he was sure that nobody would look for it. After shutting the drawer he stepped back cautiously, his heart finally pacing down.

With a deep breath, he ran a nervous hand through his floppy hair. He had been sweating more than he cared to admit. A good bath would soothe his nerves and relax his muscles too.

He stopped in front of the bathroom's door when he heard the pouring of water in the tub, his heart racing once again. Holding the doorknob, his fingers slightly pushed the door open, careful not to make a sound.

Sybil plunged in the sunken bath, his gracious hands pouring water over his head as he chanted some mysterious prayer. His lean body was enveloped in milky steam as the silvery snakes crowning his head slithered in the water, embracing his back like fairy creatures dusted in glitter.

"...Oh, Lord! Have me purified—be the one washing me so that I'll be whiter than snow," the Oracle said.

When silence fell, Set became suddenly aware that he had been eavesdropping and carefully pulled the door closed. Still, he couldn't resist the urge to get Sybil's attention.

"Are you in there?" His words sounded rushed and lower than he intended, unable to conceal his accelerated breath.

Sybil's soothing voice came muffled from inside. "You know I am."

The boy slightly opened the door, telling himself he just needed to have a better grasp on the other's words. He forced his eyes not to peek again, but the smell of lemongrass soap temptingly filled his nostrils.

"S-sorry," he managed to say.

"Oh, don't be. I love the way you look at me when you think I can't see you..." Sybil's voice was deep and confident despite the subject. "And I should be the one apologizing for sending you out alone. I'm glad you are back."

The Oracle's warm tone reached Set's heart and like a magic spell lifted all weight it had been carrying. The boy's eyes wandered to Sybil's pale back. It was strangely relaxing that the man faced away from him.

"I ... Me too..." Set whispered, regretting the very moment his voice fell into an awkward silence and Sybil's head turned to look at him. Flustered, the boy changed the topic. "I-I saw the dog at the café."

Sybil chuckled softly, the darkness in his eyes lit by sparkles of light. He turned completely, pulling back his hair with both hands to have a better look at Set before he leaned his back against the marble rim. Half a smile still hung on his heated lips. "Should I be—surprised?"

"That's not what I..." Set huffed, his right hand running through his hair. "I saw his face ... I mean..." He tried to act cool, but the simple thought made his head spin. "That's not human!" he blurted out.

"You mean the dog?" Sybil brought his hand to his mouth unable to refrain from another giggle.

Set bit his lip, trying to muster the courage to speak the unspeakable. "It's a..." His voice faltered and broke before erupting in a shout. "It's a demon!" As he became self-conscious, his gaze fell on the bath's water.

"Did you actually believe in Darwin's theory?" Sybil asked, surprise coloring his voice as his graceful fingers drew languid circles on the liquid mirror, seizing the boy's eyes. "You can find it in mystic traditions from all over the world. There was a time when gods and demigods, angels and demons dwelled among humans." He cupped his hands and lifted them in front of his face, staring with fascination at the translucent droplets escaping his grasp as though he could see something even greater than the future. His voice swayed out unperturbed like the sea. "If you take a look at someone's archetype there's a fair possibility you won't find a monkey."

"You can't brush it off like that," Set countered, all the tension he'd faced during the day building up in his stomach again. Embers of frustration fueled by the dark, sticky gasoline of fear—no need for a spark before his voice blasted again. "That guy's a fucking demon!"

"So are you." Sybil shrugged it off, his voice as light as ever. "You shouldn't be racist against your own kin."

Set slammed the door completely open and dashed in. He froze at the edge of the bath, his feet soaked in the water overflowing the marble step. He wanted to scream, but his voice wouldn't come out as he stared at the man without really seeing anything. The hot steam glued his clothes to his body and made his labored breath sluggish. He swallowed hard and finally managed to whisper, "What...?"

"You heard me."

Tilting his chin up to look at the boy's eyes, Sybil slid down until the water level reached the back of his head. His hair spread open like blossoming water lilies, swaying on the liquid surface in a fascinating motion. His cheeks reddened as steam enveloped his face in a dream-like halo. His body and soul seemed whiter than ever, increasing the contrast with the dark universes in his irises. A soft smile bent his coral lips.

"You came for a bath, right? So, why don't you join me?" he asked in his mellowest tone as his hands and arms emerged from the water in an alluring gesture.

Not to be mesmerized, Set squeezed his eyes and clenched his fists to the point his nails scratched his skin. "That's not the point. Don't play that crap. Don't play that mind shit with me," he hissed.

Sybil averted his gaze and sighed. "Right. It's not appropriate." His expression had an apologetic look that didn't suit him. "You better go."

Set's heart tightened with the illogical feeling of being shut out, but his instinct told him there was more to it. "What's going on? Be straight with me, Sybil." He instinctively moved closer and crouched on the marble rim, stretching out his hand to reach the man. His movement stopped halfway as the Oracle stared into his eyes and straightened up, his chest emerging from the water.

"It's just that I'm getting ready for a ritual and I need to be very careful to let all the tumblers fall into place." As he spoke, the unsettling shadow of doubt lingered in his voice. "Even if I don't have a clear vision of what's going to happen..." He took a deep breath before he stretched his left hand toward Set. "I will get it right for you."

Set swallowed but didn't move away, letting Sybil's gentle fingers stroke his cheek. His heart, freed from all fear, picking up pace in a totally different way.

"There are certain things you don't know, things I'd rather not tell you, things I can't explain. Still, I'm asking you to trust me," the Oracle murmured, his palm cupping the boy's face.

"I ... do." Set's voice came out in a whisper before he looked down, overwhelmed by a sense of vulnerability.

Sybil withdrew his hand but moved toward the boy. A vibrant smile brightened his expression as his arms wrapped Set's shoulders, drenching him. Without hesitation, his fingers shamelessly slipped under the boy's shirt, pulling it up. Losing his balance Set bent forward, giving the man a chance to drag his shirt over his head. When Set finally managed to pull back, his arms were trapped in the soft cotton.

Sybil's right hand moved up to the boy's chin, his fingers gently leading Set to look into his eyes. Eyes meeting eyes, Set's heart jumped to his throat and he had to swallow it back. At such a close distance, there was no way he could avoid being sucked into the abyss.

It was the vanishing point.

As heat descended to his belly, melting him from inside, he found in himself the wicked desire of messing Sybil up. If he had the courage to let go, he could turn to any kind of obscenities just to see the man in adoration at his feet. His canines sunk into his bottom lip. He wouldn't do it, would he?

Before he could, the doorbell rang.

The split-second Sybil's eyes turned toward the source of the sound, Set got back to his senses. He stood abruptly, ripped his way out of the shirt and rushed out of the bathroom.

His mind still unable to produce any rational thought, he headed to the door and opened it. There stood a handsome Asian man, dressed all in black but sporting a white collar and a weird Christian cross. A tight-lipped smile formed on Set's lips. Half his blood boiled with frustration as he cracked his knuckles, holding back the impulse of punching the priest. The day had already been complicated enough and Sybil's image lingered in the back of his mind. He breathed in some cool air, hoping it would breeze it away.

His priority was to stay focused on the plan. There was no room for other bullshit. He glared at the priest, but his heartbeat hadn't slowed down. His body was still on fire. Sybil's lewd image was literally engraved in his brain. Set didn't know anymore if he wanted to protect him or just fuck him like a whore. It was sick.

His tight-lipped smile faded as the priest lifted his hand, trying to introduce himself.

"Good evening, dear boy, I'm John and I'm here to—" The man's honeyed voice snapped Set out of his reverie.

"Not interested." He slammed the door closed.

Feeling a little relieved, he turned around and headed back toward the living room. Sybil stood at the beginning of the hallway, drying his hair with a towel—utterly naked. His skin was as striking as snow, covered in dew at the first light of the morning sun.

"Set, who was at the door?"

The Oracle's silvery voice gave him a shiver. "A fucking priest and I can't stand priests." Set snorted and rolled his eyes.

He paced down the hallway, his eyes wandering restlessly from the man to the next room. Until Sybil dropped his towel and let his white hair fall down his shoulders. Set couldn't look away anymore. He couldn't stop from longing his touch as the man approached him.

However, Sybil gracefully walked past him.

Set had to force himself not to grab him by the hair and pull him back, just to have his attention. Still, he turned around and his gaze followed him moving charmingly to the entrance and opening the door. His brows furrowed as he realized Sybil was inviting the priest inside with an elegant swing of his hand.

"Sybil, my dear, there are a couple of points that I'd like to clarify," the priest said, leaning his hand on Sybil's shoulder.

Set bared his teeth but managed to stay put. He had to know what was going on before beating the guest to a pulp.

Sybil leaned toward the newcomer and, throwing his arms to the man's neck, he spoke in his hear. "Father, I didn't expect to see you again so quickly. You caught me in a weak moment. Would you let me put something on first?" he asked with a seductive tone that Set had never heard before.

Heat pooled in Set's belly, speeding up his breath, but his frown deepened as he inspected the priest's impressive façade. The man's hand slid up Sybil's shoulder, gently holding a strand of white hair. His glance focused on the shining threads entwined around his slender fingers. He took a deep breath as if he wanted to take in its fragrance before his eyes slowly moved back up to Sybil's.

"It suits you." His slow, sugary voice was followed by an overly charming smile on his full lips. "Take your time and dry yourself off." He simply glanced at the towel lying on the floor, a spark of light hitting his unnatural blue-green eyes. "I would hate it if you got sick because of me." His soft-spoken words were filled with misplaced motherly care.

Sybil brought a hand to his chest, faking surprise.

"I never took you for the thoughtful, sensitive type," he replied ironically before leading the way to the living room.

Totally unfazed by his own nudity, he picked up his towel, showed the priest to the balcony and walked off to his room. Set followed outside. He leaned back against the low wall while the other took a seat at the round table. It was unacceptable that a fucking priest had felt free to invade his home. His glare stayed glued to the priest all the while Sybil got ready.

Dressed up in a gold-embroidered white robe with bell sleeves, the Oracle set up some candles, prepared a tea and served it to the man. They sat side by side like good, old friends. They both sipped their steamy drinks, gazing at the sunset in a disturbing intimacy. Then, the priest broke the silence.

"Aren't you even the slightest bit worried about him?" Once again, his voice was far too charming for a church man's and although his eyes kept looking at the sky, it was clear that Set was the subject of his question.

Sybil didn't bat an eyelash, his tone as serene as ever. "Why should I?"

"Why?" The priest slowly shook his head, the ghost of a smile pulling at one side of his lips. "I want you alive. We have to take precautions."