Harlot Iscariot (X.)

She was another of Rhiel's unorthodox staff, or so I assumed because she always answered the door. I would give the special knock, and she would pry open the crooked facade with bracelet-laden spindly arms. Her sunken eyes shone glassy in the dark and the street lamps hit her sallow midriff so that I could see her hipbones jutting out over her studded belt, then she backed into shadow to clear my way, made mouthless by the swallowing obscurity. The night that kid came just before me, I was so stunned because I watched her step out onto the porch towards him, wearing a silver smile, and speak.