Five Years Later - October 31st, 2019

The waiting room to the executive offices of The Garden of Eden Casino and Hotel were just as hideous as the name implies. Gold trim along the window lattices, gaudy curtains, an attempt at a sophisticated rug but done as cheaply as possible (and it showed), and a few fake marble sculptures of nude women done in a Renaissance style that had very obviously been broken at some point then hastily glued back together, were all disastrous elements Magdalena had encountered whilst sitting down for the last ten minutes. There was no shortage of hideous people in the room either. Not externally, but internally. She could smell it on them. That sort of ugliness seeps out of every pore, polluting the air. Them, however, pertained to two individuals in particular. The two gorgeous female assistants at the front desk, obviously there for decoration more than actual assistance, were absolutely wallowing in ugliness. Very much Lilith's type. They, of course, weren't actually women, just two Fae Folk using glamour to deceive the mortals. Their true form, no doubt truly horrifying, was far less horrifying and ugly than the unspeakable cruelty they were most likely capable of.

The Malibu-Barbie wanna-be Fae women's eyes darted over to Magdalena, briefly, their lustrous eyes narrowed, strained smiles flexed threateningly, as if they knew she could smell it on them. Magdalena knew better than to mess with the Fae Folk, but couldn't help but lean forward in her seat, bite her thumb, and deliver a mocking wink. The two Fae women didn't flinch at her boldness one bit, but rather turned back to their respective tasks, typing away on their computers.

After a few more moments, one of the Fae stood up, peering over her desk and said in a sweetness that would make milk curl, "She's ready for you, dog." The last bit was delivered with just a touch of venom, enough to attempt to make Magdalena flinch. It didn't. The fact that the Fae despised werewolves wasn't new to anyone. The Fae believed themselves to be at the top of the magical hierarchy, being near-deities and all. Werewolves were just an inconvenient and disgusting off-shoot of mortals to them.

So, as Magdalena stood up she reached inside her leather jacket pocket, produced a single cigarette and placed it between her lips suggestively. She then sauntered over to the desk the Fae woman who called to her stood behind, and leaned over the top, and then, giving the Fae her best sultry smile replied, "Thanks twinkle tits."

The Fae recoiled with a primal hiss emitted between clenched teeth, which Magdalena hardly paid any mind to. Her mind was already through those large mahogany doors to the executive office where she had business to attend to. Besides, who was she to keep the Devil's mistress waiting?