Mephisto Pheles, one of the most talented exorcists of his era, has just been promoted and is now an Upper 1st Class exorcist. Giddy with triumph he decides to take on toughest demon of his career. Kirigakure Shura, the Flame Princess. Raceswap! Some dark content.

Mephisto walked out of the testing centre in a daze. His heart pounded so hard a pulse was visible in his neck and hands shook as they gripped a thin slip of paper. All that signified his promotion to Upper 1st Class. He was now officially considered one of the best and brightest of his generation. Few others his age had the relentless ambition or the raw talent needed to climb so high, so quickly. And boy, did he have ambition. Mephisto was aiming for paladin. He had a thirst for power, and the chaos that came with such high level battles. Of course, he did love Assiah. To him Assiah was a world of endless beauty and unlimited potential. And, most importantly, if Assiah fell to the ravaging hordes of evil he'd never know the ending of Sugar Star Princess. But for now he needed to make the most of his promotion while it was still fresh in people's mind. He needed something big, and dramatic, and showy so that he would be remembered when the time for further promotions came. His green eyes narrowed darkly. He knew just where to start.

Mephisto sat on the bed he had rented for the night in a run down B&B. The town he was staying in had no tourists, and few visitors; Mephisto was surprised to even find a B&B in breakfast. Maybe people living in the town went there for their break, they certainly weren't allowed any holidays abroad. The bed groaned as the exorcist started packing up his supplies. The town was under the tyrannical rule of a very nasty demon. She went by many names around here. The Flame Princess, The Lady in the Mountain, Goddess of the Burning Sea… However, none of these names gave Mephisto a clue as to her real identity, or her fatal verse. He finished packing, giving the room a quick once over. As he left, Mephisto allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. He'd been saving this job for when he needed the most recognition, and the time had finally come. He'd been lucky that another exorcist from the True Cross hadn't found this place first. Mephisto had a network of informants, many without an affiliation to the True Cross Order, and as such had access to some information that even the Order had missed. Rumours, guesswork, mysteries. From a tangled web of chaos, Mephisto managed to pull out threads of fact and it was this skill that kept him ahead of his competitors.

Heading out into the street he got a couple of uninterested looks, but generally no one paid him any attention. That was annoying. He'd been forced to leave his usual white suit behind, he wanted to catch this demon by surprise after all, but being ignored sat poorly with him. Forcing his irritation down, Mephisto continued wandering down the dusty street. It was not busy today, and the sun beat down on the heads of the few people trying to run errands. A haze shimmered over the ground and roofs sizzled in the heat. Mephisto felt the atmosphere affecting him. He felt sluggish and lazy, each step twice as much effort as it should have been. The exorcist wandered aimlessly for a while until he came across a building that looked important. Following his gut Mephisto ambled past a desperate looking receptionist who was chattering into a phone so quickly that she didn't have time to look up and see the intruder walk past her. When Mephisto saw a door marked 'Mayor', he knew he'd hit the jackpot. He let himself in. The elderly man inside looked up from his desk in shock, but Mephisto cut him off before he could get any clever ideas, like calling security.

"I'm an exorcist. I'm here to purge the town of demons."

It was never a good idea to give people a chance to think.

The odd pair sat solemnly at the mayor's desk, cups of tea forgotten, as they discussed the town's odd predicament. The old man's face was carved with lines of deep stress, and as he explained the situation, Mephisto could see why he looked so aged.

"The Princess has demanded that every month she be sent a tribute."

The man pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes.

"Every month she must be sent crates of our finest beer, and our best produce. And one of our most handsome men to bring it to her. None of them have ever returned to us."

Mephisto raised an eyebrow at the demands. "Beer and men?"

The elder's expression was sombre.

"The princess will have her lusts satisfied."

Mephisto found himself to be mildly impressed. This was one of the most daring set ups he'd ever seen. He took another sip of his tea, careful to phrase his question without causing offense.

"How did she get the villagers to agree to this? Most people don't even believe in demons, let alone sacrifice so much to pacify them."

"Our lady visits every newcomer to the town. All of them. She has visited all of us, and given us the power to see her true face, and to see her foul minions. Her hair is fire, her eyes are coal. If we run, she has promised to hunt us."

The elder's eyes were wide with horror as he remembered his own visit from the Lady of the Mountain.

"Exorcist. We are afraid."

Mephisto gave him a razor sharp smile.

"I think I can help you."

There was a long discussion, and a bit of subtle manipulation on Mephisto's part before a deal was reached. Despite the mayor's desire to protect his people, his fear of the Flame Princess' retribution was far greater. There was also the problem that some of the town had adapted to her tyranny by worshipping the Lady in the Mountain as a god, to be loved as well as feared. Truly, a masterful set-up. However, after appealing to the mayor's kinder nature and many promises of subtlety, the old man agreed to the plan. Mephisto would claim to have poisoned the original sacrifice, crippling the man with stomach pains and violent vomiting. He would then pose as his long lost cousin, desperate to save his beloved family member from the clutches of the cruel demon. As the new sacrifice he would be granted easy access to The Flame Princess' lair. The mayor was obviously doubtful of his chances of returning alive. But the man was surprisingly ruthless. In his mind there was a decent chance that the Lady would devour Mephisto whole the second she laid eyes on him, and would never know the difference. If things went well, either the demon would die, or one of his own would be spared this month. It made it easier to agree.

"You're in luck, Mr Pheles. A tribute is due to head out at dusk."

Mephisto ignored the comment. He never left room for luck.

The pair started to walk towards the town centre as the sun began its descent in the sky. The air was cooling and it helped ease the strain of the day. However, all was still not well. The elder shifted uncomfortably as Mephisto took in the sight of groups of people huddled together and weeping, though fewer and fewer were seen as they drew closer to the centre.

"Families of those taken from us."

"Why are they not with the man going tonight?"

"The chosen walk alone."

Mephisto didn't respond. The plight of these people didn't really move him. In his opinion they were pathetic for not having done something about this demon, allowing her to ruin their lives and sending her sacrifices like lambs. Pathetic people. They walked further into the town centre as dusk gathered, both men neither feeling the desire to make conversation in the sombre atmosphere. The volcano that the Flame Princess lived in brooded over the town like an angry god, its hulking presence casting a pall of fear over the inhabitants. Smoke plumed from its summit in plumes of sullen grey and drifted through the sky. Mephisto's brilliant green eyes took in the scene with a pang of unease.

How unpleasant…

They continued to walk in silence. The old man was awkward, and Mephisto was focused on memorising the directions to the volcano, and how to meet the Lady in the Mountain. They reached the square, just as the day changed firmly to evening. There was a young man alone in the square, standing with a wagon crammed with crates of beer and food. It looked like he'd been crying. Mephisto struggled to hold in a sneer. Had anyone even tried to help themselves? The mayor took the young man aside and explained the plan in hushed tones. Mephisto knew that the old man would be vague with details, the less anyone knew the better. Mephisto suspected that the mayor had actually told him that the exorcist really was his cousin, judging by the slightly puzzled look that was sent his way. The young man would be smuggled into a quiet room somewhere for the night and pretend to be violently ill. And the next day, not even his mother would know what really happened. The man was crying again. Mephisto tried not to let his disdain show, but was relieved when the pair quietly thanked him and hurried off into the gathering gloom. It was with much less enthusiasm that he shouldered the burden of the cart. He was strong and fit from his exorcism training, but this thing weighed a fucking ton.

I should have just ambushed him when he was nearly there. Mephisto thought sourly as he set off towards the towering volcano.

The burden was heavy as the exorcist set off up the mountain, and the path was steep and treacherous, but the evening air was cool and crisp. The exercise was oddly invigorating, and Mephisto found himself enjoying the burn in his muscles. The sun hadn't yet set, the moon hung fat and golden in the sky. The effect was odd. It looked almost like there were two suns in the sky, like great golden eyes looking dispassionately down in his labours below. Mephisto couldn't tell if it was a good omen, or bad. After an hour or so, Mephisto arrived at a strange ledge on the side of the mountain. A huge, flat circular outcrop that no grass grew on. The ground was strangely hot, even through the soles of his shoes, as if lava was running just under the packed dirt. This was it. But there was no demon to be seen. Mephisto was puzzled; this was definitely the right place. For a while he fretted the demon had somehow caught on and would refuse to come out, but soon realised a sliver of the sun still poked over the horizon. The Flame Princess would only appear when the sun had sunk, and night had started its rule. The mayor had told him that the Princess would be waiting for him, not taking into account that Mephisto was much stronger and faster than a usual man.

And then, all at once, the sun disappeared and she was there. Mephisto was entranced. The Flame Princess was the loveliest creature he had ever seen, and at the sight of her, his heart started to pound furiously. Her skin glowed softly like it was bathed in warm firelight, and her ruby red hair was a lush mane shot with yellow like a flame. A goddess would kill for a face so sweet and beautiful, and the fair folk would murder for her lithe frame. She strolled towards him with swinging hips and an effortless grace that made his mouth go dry, and his knees weaken. Never before had Mephisto understood how demons could snare a human in a contract, but Mephisto was sure that this woman could bring an emperor to his knees. The Lady drew level with him and finally spoke with a voice that would make angels weep.

"What are you doing out here? It's not safe to be wandering around so late."

She took his hand, her own fingers slim and delicate.

"Come. You can stay the night in my home."

One hand holding his own, and the other effortlessly towing the loaded wagon that had taken all Mephisto's strength to pull, the Princess lead him towards the sheer face of the mountain. Without warning, the ground opened up before them. Mephisto couldn't help but gasp and the lovely creature laughed at his surprise. She led him down a gentle slope that spiralled round and round, until they were deep in the ground. And in the demon's lair.

They were standing in an impressive cavern, lit with strange lanterns that seemed to need neither electricity nor oil. What should have been soft dirt above them was lavishly carved stone, polished till it shone. Rich furniture, gauzy drapes and curtains, a huge bed, piles of cushions. None of it made sense. And it was the strangeness that brought Mephisto back to his senses, even as the Lady steered him towards a comfortable nest of cushions. The Flame Princess was not her real name. Neither was the Lady in the Mountain, nor the Goddess of the Burning Sea. And he needed to know her true identity to have a hope at striking her with her fatal verse.

"What's your name?"

Mephisto tried to make his voice as soft and entranced as a love struck lamb, and was disconcerted to find that it came easy in her presence.

She laughed. "Kirigakure Shura." She winked, "But you can call me Shura."

Kirigakure Shura wasn't a name he recognised either… He would have to use the most common death verse for fire demons and hoped that it hit a nerve. However, all such thoughts were driven from his mind when the goddess laid a warm hand on his knee, dangerously close to his inner thigh.

"You haven't told me your name."

Her coy smile was so charming, that he didn't stop to think.

"Mephisto Pheles."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to snatch them out of the air and make them unsaid. Names had power. And he had not been as careful as Shura to disguise his name.

They talked for a while, meaningless small talk, while Shura drank some of the alcohol that had been sent up with Mephisto. He found everything about her charming. Her beauty was matched by her wit. Her words made him want to laugh with delight, and her body made him want to weep with longing. When she had finished her drink, Shura put her can down and looked Mephisto with a coy expression, transfixing him with her luminous green eyes.

"You want to know something funny." Her voice was like silk running over his fevered skin.

"Yes." He breathed, ever more entranced with her.

Shura leaned forward, drawing his eyes to her bountiful cleavage, and placed herself delicately on his lap.

"You are ju-ust my type." She gave him a sly wink.

Mephisto was horrified to feel a red flush crawl up his face, scorching his skin. Shura giggled at the sight of him blushing like a shy child at her comment. Slowly, as if not to spook him, she wrapped her small hands around his neck and kissed him softly.

And Mephisto was lost.

Her delicate hands tangled in his soft hair as the demon dragged him into a wild kiss. With a groan Mephisto felt himself harden in his pants, kissing her back as eagerly as she kissed him. Loving the sensation of her soft lips on his, adoring the feel of her hot tongue inflaming his passions, worshipping her supple body with his hands. Shura let out a little purr of delight as he touched her, seeming to enjoy feeling his rough hands on her flawless skin. Mephisto kissed lovingly down the smooth skin of her throat, pausing at times to lick and suck and taste, loving the sound of soft cries falling from her lips. Eventually Shura grew frustrated with so little when her lust was so great and reached blindly behind her to remove her little bikini top, leaving her glorious chest bare before him. With a helpless groan Mephisto returned to her mouth, kissing her deeply, even as his hands rose of their own accord to pinch and fondle.

It was the sting of her sharp fangs that brought Mephisto back to his senses. The surprise of the sensation made him break the kiss, panting for air. And with the respite came a brief window of clarity.

"…The fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murders, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone."

Shura recoiled as if he slapped her, scrambling away. When she spoke her words dripped with poison and burning rage.

"Exorcist!"

She was on her feet in a flash. Wickedly sharp horns sprouting from the side of her head, curling delicately above her ears, and Mephisto took the chance to charge her. But the element of surprise was gone. Shura backhanded him almost lazily, sending him slamming to the floor. As he lay stunned on the ground, gasping for air, Mephisto knew he was outclassed. His verse hadn't hurt her, his attack had been crushed. This woman was a goddess, and he was an ant before her.

Still gloriously topless, Shura strode over and effortlessly lifted him off the floor. Then she slammed him against the wall. Hard. Mephisto let out a cry of pain as he felt a rib crack, every part of his body throbbing from the abuse. The demon ran the back of her fingers softly down his cheek, the touch so tender it hurt. Mephisto felt hot shame pour down his spine. He still wanted her. Shura pouted, her plump lips tempting him even through the pain in his rapidly swelling cheek and his broken ribs.

"It's a shame, you really were my type, exorcist."

The beautiful demon kissed his neck, sucking at his pulse with her hot mouth, and Mephisto groaned aloud. She laughed loudly at his weakness.

"Now why don't you tell me how a filthy little exorcist came to be my toy. I know there were no exorcists living in my town." She smiled wickedly. "If you're good and tell me, I might even reward you…"

Her fingers trailed lower down his body, snapping a few shirt buttons open on her way. The exorcist's skin was so fevered with pain and lust, that the warm air felt cool on his now bare skin of his chest.

Mephisto gave a pained chuckle at her interrogation, eyes still defiant. "I poisoned him."

Shura raised a disbelieving eyebrow, fingers toying with his waistband.

"I dunno, that seems a little dark for you, exorcist."

She was still effortlessly pinning him to the wall with one hand, and Mephisto ached for her to touch him, to carry out what her delicate hands were promising.

Mephisto managed to sneer at her.

"I'm dark enough to try to banish you from this earth forever, you evil bitch."
Shura's expression of mild amusement didn't change as she gave him another stinging slap. His ears rang at the impact as the demon gave a wicked chuckle that Mephisto couldn't help but love.

"You were lucky with the timing, I suppose." The redhead brought her face up close to his, her lush lips brushing against his own. "If you'd kissed me for a second longer I would have burnt the heart out of you."

Her sharp claws dug into his chest as an emphasis, her claws piercing his skin. Mephisto groaned aloud, hips jolting at her touch before he could clamp down on his self-control. Shura laughed again, and kissed down his neck again, leaving dark bruises with her affection.

"It's called 'Demon touch." Shura raked her claws lightly down his bare chest, leaving scratches in her wake.

"Fire demons just can't help themselves. Humans can't handle our affections for long. None of the young men have lasted more than a few days before they just waste away." She laughed.

"They don't even try to escape!"

Mephisto snorted rudely, trying not to look like he was hooked also on her enchanting ways.

"So you're relying on demon magic to enchant men. How unimpressive."

Shura laughed at him, digging her claws into his chest and drawing blood.

"How sweet." The demon smiled like a tiger.

"Demon touch makes you lose your mind, but it doesn't make you lust."

Shura purred with delight as she pressed her lush breasts up against Mephisto, making his body taut with desire.

"I guess I'm just pretty." She batted her long eyelashes at him.

Mephisto had never wanted someone so badly in his entire life. Her stunning face, and pouting lips were within easy reach, but knowing the horror that awaited Shura's lovers, minds burnt away by her kisses, kept him from responding to her.

Shura tortured him for a long time. Her touch burnt him, and his soul was scorched. But the longing, the temptation was much worse than the pain. Again and again, the Princess would offer herself to him, and again and again Mephisto ached to have her, but had to find the strength to turn her down. Eventually Shura dropped him to the ground again. Too spent to move Mephisto sank into the soft cushion he had been lucky enough to land on, as his tormentor, and his lust, and his passion, curled up next to him. The demon cuddled against his side as if they really were lovers, exhausted from a night spent taking each other in every imaginable way.

"The sun will rise soon." Shura sighed. "I must decide what to do with you, my darling exorcist."

Mephisto's vision started to blur and darken, pain and exhaustion sending his mind towards blackness. Just before a combination of sleep and concussion overtook him, Mephisto heard her speak again.

"I don't think I've ever enjoyed a night so much before…"

When Mephisto came to, he found himself thrown carelessly over Shura's shoulder. Her slim frame was eerily strong as she easily carried him back towards the surface. The earth parted above them, and Mephisto finally felt the cool night air on his bruised face. He had not expected to see the stars again. Carelessly the demon dropped him on the packed earth of the same circular ledge where they had met. Mephisto lay on the ground stunned. Partially because of the three broken ribs, but partially because he ached to stay with her, even with the casual hurt she had wrought. He knew that with her strength, and her power, a few broken ribs were more of a love bite than an attack. Shura stood over his prone form and laughed again, bending down to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Come back and play with me some time, exorcist. I think I may have grown fond of you."

She stood and sighed.

"I'm not sure if any of my future offerings will be able to match up."

Then the sun broke the horizon and Mephisto was alone. As the golden sunlight started to stain the summit of the mountains, he couldn't help but curse his foolishness. Not even two days ago he was celebrating the greatest triumph of his young life, and now it all paled in significance to the stunning demon he could feel under his skin like an itch. The Flame Princess, the Lady in the Mountain, Goddess of the Burning Sea. There were no better names for her than these. With a groan Mephisto rolled off of his aching side, and struggled to sit up. It would take him a long time to get down the mountain in this condition, and even longer to get back to the exorcist headquarters. Mephisto climbed unsteadily to his feet before starting to limp back down the mountain. As he descended the sun rose on a man hell-bent on developing a resistance to demon touch.

A little dark I know. Is there such thing as a gentle demon romance? It's half one and I have work tomorrow and I'm writing indulgent fanfic I have a problem.