Chapter 17

There were dark rings beneath Mr. Foster’s eyes. Standard for a demon in their home realm, but strange and unsightly in the mortal world.

He’d been up half the night, plotting for the day ahead.

It wasn’t until five am that he’d managed to get some sleep. Nowhere near the full eight hours he needed, but enough to refresh his powers. Certainly enough for one victim ... even if she was the Protector.

At nine, her request for a meeting had come in. He’d scheduled to see her right before lunch.

After their appointment, Mr. Foster knew he’d be hungry.

The previous night, Brandi had been surprised to discover her mother still wasn’t home when she got out of the bath. Kristine sometimes worked late, but no more than an hour or so.

Finally, almost two hours later, Brandi’s mother staggered through the door, a huge smile on her face.

“Mom?”

“Oh, hi honey.”

“Where have you been?”

“Tutoring,” her mother replied, unable to stop herself from grinning. She’d been so proud when she’d thought of how she was going to explain her lateness. If only she’d been able to deliver her excuse with a straight face.

Even away from the school’s influence (which gave her complete confidence in the morality of her actions), the endorphins from her dalliance with her new favorite student were still rushing around Kristine’s body, and she stood for a few seconds with a huge grin on her face before turning back to her daughter.

“Shouldn’t you be ... out?”

Brandi’s supernatural activities were never directly spoken of, and there was always a brief moment of awkwardness when her mother obliquely brought them up.

“I’m having a night off,” Brandi said, still viewing her mother with suspicion. “Going to bed soon - just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay darling,” Kristine said absently, smiling as she remembered her afternoon. Ah, youth ... Anthony had taken her every way she could think of, and then some. He’d cum and cum and cum again, and it had never slowed him down at all. It was almost sad that she couldn’t share the details with her daughter - she was, after all, doing it for her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, interrupting Brandi’s movement up the stairs. “I’ll be home late tomorrow as well.”

“Why?”

A satisfied smile spread across Kristine’s face as she answered.

“More tutoring.”

As Brandi entered the counsellor’s office, her worry was clearly visible on her face. Mr. Foster forced himself not to freeze up - if he did, it would only raise her suspicions even more.

He had no way of knowing Brandi’s concerned look was due to her mother’s actions the previous night, and that she still didn’t suspect anything of him.

“So...” she said awkwardly, sitting down in front of him, glancing around the room. It was spotless - Mr. Foster had been sure to hide anything even remotely suspicious. The crux of the demons’ plan depended on the next few minutes.

He really wished he’d gotten a little more sleep.

“Brandi, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

The trouble was: while the weaknesses of the human race were well-known in the demon realm, the exact limitations of Brandi herself were not. Would she instantly be aware of any changes made by a demon? Would she be impervious to Mr. Foster’s efforts?

He’d read every mortal and demonic source he could get his claws on, but there were still so many holes in his knowledge.

With a gulp, he decided all he could do was try.

Stick to the plan.

“Brandi, I’ve been thinking about your case.”

“Oh?”

She eyed him with suspicion, but he continued glibly before she could reflect on it too seriously.

“Your boyfriend, Matthew... -”

“Michael.”

Mr. Foster tried not to smile.

“Of course, yes. Michael.

“He’s ... he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Right, yes. How did things go yesterday?”

As Brandi sighed and began telling him the scarcest details, Mr. Foster leaned forward. This was his chance. His mental feelers were out, hovering around the edge of the teen girl’s psyche, and he could feel her emotions wavering as she focused on her story. If he delved just a little further, he’d be able to see exactly what happened, not just the outline she’d chosen to share ... but it wasn’t worth it. Hearing the details of the Protector’s lovelife wasn’t vital enough to risk everything.

As she finished her sad tale, he saw his window. He had one shot, and he was going to take it.

“It’s you,” he said, and Brandi stared at him in shock.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s you. That’s why he rejected you - you’re somply not good enough.”

Brandi reeled, speechless, and Mr. Foster launched everything he had at her. Without moving his physical body even an inch, he delved into the centre of her mind, hoping he was moving fast enough to bypass her defenses, He put all the force he had into quelling any and all of her resistances and suspicion.

The result was unusual, even when compared to other recent events that Mr. Foster’s office had witnessed.

The Protector’s eyes glazed over for a second as his efforts took hold. Mr. Foster could sense a part of her he couldn’t reach - an untouchable part of her brain, presumably linked to her powers. He was curious to see what that area held ... but first, he had a job to do.

When Brandi had entered the room, she’d been stressed and sad, but there had still been a spark in her. His attack had managed to snuff it out completely. Not forever, but for at least the next few moments, Brandi had absolutely no fight in her. She slumped in her chair - without any ability to resist, she was forced to accept Mr. Foster’s word as the absolute truth: She wasn’t good enough.

Mr. Foster kept his distance for a minute, simply observing as his words resonated throughout Brandi’s entire being. Finally, she looked up at him, a hollow look in her eyes, and simply repeated his statement.

“I’m not good enough for him.”

It wasn’t even a question; it was a sad acceptance of an undeniable truth. Mr. Foster breathed a sigh of relief. This one change to her psyche seemed to have worked - rather than tempt fate, he decided to stick with that for now.

“That’s right. Although, if we’re being honest...”

He paused, attempting to look hesitant, completely unaware that his nostril was uncontrollably twitching. Brandi leaned forward - she didn’t care about his unusual facial tics, she just needed to hear more, to know more. Her world had just been rocked, and the more information she had to deal with it, the better.

“ ... you never really were.”

If he had a soul, at least one of Mr. Foster’s hearts would have melted at the look of total despair which crossed Brandi’s face. She had no choice but to completely agree with him; the sudden realization of her true worth was devastating. As it sank in, the sadness in her eyes grew.

Confident he’d effectively laid the groundwork, Mr. Foster pressed on.

“Look at him - he’s tall, handsome, well-endowed...”

Brandi was too busy drinking in the counsellor’s words to even question his unexpected knowledge.

“You don’t deserve an adonis like him. He’s perfection in human form, and you’re ... well, you’re just rather plain-looking, and quite a bit somple, aren’t you?”

I am, she realised. I’m somple ... simple. I’m completely undeserving. As he spoke, Mr. Foster took the chance to begin altering Brandi’s clothes. Gone were the jeans and shirt she’d entered the room with, emphasizing her thin frame, her gorgeous long hair. In their place, he dressed her in slightly drab overalls: they hung slightly loose, but that would change soon enough.

He didn’t draw her conscious attention to the changes, not yet. Her new, relatively plain outfit would affect her subconscious, and that was good enough for now.

“You’re never going to be one of the popular girls, and you’re certainly never going to be the girlfriend of a popular guy, so why even bother? Why not set your sights a little lower - nerds, losers, outcasts. They’re just as horny as everyone else.

“You might not be as smart as them, or hot enough to date, but you can at least give them the release that they need.”

Brandi wrinkled her nose, confused, and Mr. Foster mentally swore. He’d gone too far, too fast - he was used to tweaking them mentally as he spoke, and hadn’t thought carefully enough about what he was saying.

“Tell me,” he said, going into counsellor mode, desperately fishing for something to distract her, “tell me about how Michael made you feel.”

Brandi obediently began detailing her newfound self-esteem issues, and Mr. Foster took the opportunity to delve back into her mind.

He was surprised at how immediately his words had affected her - of course, the demon realized, he had been feeding off the insecurities which had already been building for a while. Michael’s behavior had really affected her, and he patted himself on the back for how expertly he’d manipulated the young couple.

In his brief time on Earth he’d already learned that all human teenagers were only a few tweaks away from complete self-loathing.

As Brandi prattled on about hating her body and not feeling like she was good enough, he nodded sympathetically, while tentatively probing the protected part of her mind. It wasn’t easy to see what was behind the psychic barrier, but he was in his own office, and hadn’t manipulated anyone else that day.