Content warning: This chapter is story-focused and contains elements of sadomasochism, but no sex.
After the shock of the moment, Laurelai relented and let the mage perform a number of tests on her body. He used everything from pendulums to potions in an effort to determine more about the nature of her impossible pregnancy, and while he did that, Laurelai told him her tale.
She told him that she'd been forced to become a woman thanks to the efforts of a particularly cruel demon lord, and that he'd intended for her to become his own private womb to breed an army of monsters. As she spoke, she thought his touches lingered a bit longer than necessary on her naked body, but she wasn't about to stop him, as she doubted she could find someone else who had the knowledge or willingness to help a fallen creature like her.
The warlock only tut tutted her explanation as he molested her, explaining over and over again just how impossible it was. "Even if you put tits and a womb on an angel, they lack the access to the creative forces that mortals have to reproduce, he lectured her. "The demons aren't much better. They are a sort of false life that can reproduce in the pit when left alone, but that could never work in the light of creation, or they would have taken over the whole world by now."
"But the Nephilim," Laurelai protested.
"The Nephilim?" he asked mockingly. "Those abominations were created in human wombs, using human fertility. Demons can and have done much the same thing, but an angel? No. Over the centuries, many angels have fallen prey to the succubi, and while they are hardly the most dangerous demon, they've certainly claimed the most angels."
"That's true," Laurelai agreed, "But--"
"But nothing. Don't you think that you and the rest of the heavenly chorus would have heard about it if even one or two of those couplings had resulted in some terrible new kind of nephilim?" For once Archmagus Starken stopped staring at her tits long enough to look deep into her eyes, as he dared her to disagree with her.
"That makes sense, but it hardly seems conclusive," Laurelai said, but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of much anymore. She was still overwhelmed with the idea that she was going to be a mother unless she could find a way to stop the growth of the abomination inside her.
"Conclusive, she says!" Starken threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Listen, little miss angel. I've been studying the mysteries of angels and demons longer than almost anyone else you're likely to find. I doubt even an actual angel knows as much as I do, though a devil or two might."
"If you know so much and have been studying for so long, then why hasn't the host found you and smote you to dust already?" she asked, wishing that someone had. She could feel the evil clinging to him like a second skin. He might seem harmless, like he wasn't much more than a half-crazed old man, but he'd done some terrible things to become that way, and if it was this obvious to her, through her own miasma, then heaven should have long ago dispatched him.
"Heaven cannot see when its eyes are blinded," he said cryptically, obviously enjoying the fact that he had one more secret over her.
"Ah," she said, nodding. Blinding. That made sense. "The runes of Damte - that makes sense. As long as you don't leave this tower and your villainies don't end up in the prayers of too many people, I imagine that it would take them a good, long time to find you."
"What? You know about the blinding runes, but still doubt my expertise in demonic breeding?" He huffed and walked away. "You should go to bed. There is a room you can use upstairs, but leave the tower to stretch your wings at your peril. The second heaven sees the abomination inside of you; they will strike you down."
"But we still have more to do," Laurelai whined. "I need answers. I need--"
"You need to sleep. I have all the information I can glean from you now. Let me attend to my business with the hellhound, and in the morning, I will try to have some answers for you." Laurelai opened her mouth to disagree, but he just glared at her instead.
"Fine," she sighed, "but I need your word that you won't try anything funny with me while I rest under this roof."
"You have my word that you are far more interesting as a test subject and a source of mystery than you are as a sex object," he answered, dodging the question.
It wasn't much of an assurance, but Laurelai took it. She had to, because the man was right. She was beyond exhausted, and even if the light and the warmth of creation nourished her, she still needed to rest.
She trudged upstairs and found a number of doorless cells with pallets, none of which were occupied. She chose the first one and covered herself with a ragged blanket. She didn't even have time to worry about what the warlock might do to her, because she was out almost immediately. She slept deeply but with dreams that were haunted by a darkness slowly growing inside of her, like a cancer that grew and spread until there was nothing left of her.
When she woke, it was to the dawn, and besides being covered in sweat, she was otherwise none the worse for the wear. On a peg in her cell, she saw a robe. She didn't recall it hanging there the night before, but she also couldn't remember that space being vacant.
Not that it mattered, because as she tried to put it on, she quickly realized it would do very little to cover her nakedness. It was only long enough to fall to her mid-thighs, and between her breasts and her wings, it was barely wide enough to wrap around her, and showed an excessive amount of cleavage.
That was fine. She'd grown so used to being forced to parade around naked that even this much coverage was a luxury. She searched the floor she was on as well as the laboratory, but the warlock was nowhere to be found. She did notice that the hellhound's circle was empty, so it was either lurking in the shadows on its way to complete its dark mission, or it had accomplished it already and had gone back to hell. Laurelai was happy either way. The thought of that mongrel made her sick, and if she ever saw it again, it would be too soon. Eventually, she just found a window that had the best view of the rising sun and then leaned back to enjoy its rays.
It was a luxury she had gone too long without, and she was grateful to have the chance to enjoy it again. Hours later, the mage finally showed up, carrying a number of strange pieces of jewelry and a whip.
