(Sorry for the length, but I threw in most? all? the challenges. Here's my rough draft.)
Summary. High-level female holy person is a vampire hunter. There is low level holy person (male) of rival religion working against her interests. Male has female in some kind of stranglehold/political bondage and orders her to accomplish an investigation, while stalking her sexually. Investigator meets a character with subject dress, whom she believes to be on her side. Very high level holy man is gaunt and getting gaunter. Why? Vampires? Other? Heroine must find out. At the end of the line – fae and dress resolve the quest.
Gender switch per your requirement in a (more) detailed story:
(Bondage) Charged With A Vengeance
Gabriel Valence, hunter of unregistered vampires and a high cleric of the Order of the Faithful, tried not to fidget in the back of the white limousine. A pious man, given to humility, he was seldom in such luxurious vehicles (a far cry from his aging sedan) and it felt awkward to him. He shot a sideways glance at the other occupant, Sherene Carlsdotter, a blonde, square-jawed woman in a sky-blue evening gown, scandalously backless with long sleeves, which shimmered with her slightest movement. Gabriel cleared his throat subtly, indicating he was ready for further communication, but the woman merely turned her head and stared at him, examining him visually inch by inch. Gabriel felt himself blushing and Sherene uttered a short bark of a laugh.
"Well, Monsignor Valence," she said, looking at him in disdainful amusement, "I can see why all the junior novices are aflutter."
Gabriel started to stammer out a denial, but Sherene cut him off with a curt gesture. "Enough. To business. You are to work on a matter that requires the utmost secrecy. Based on your reputation as well as your official record, I have personally handpicked you for this assignment. You are aware, of course, that I am the only child of the Patriarch of the Western Region."
Sherene looked at him haughtily and Gabriel nodded.
"My father is...." Sherene fumbled for words, her snobbish demeanor showing a chink, "He is no longer himself." The imposing blonde gripped Gabriel's arm with a strength that would have done a Faithful gunnery sergeant proud. "This is top secret, you understand me. If one word of this leaks out, I'll have your guts fed to the Cannery ghouls before you can blink."
"I assure you Damselle, that the Vice-Chancellor himself can vouch for my discretion," Gabriel told her soothingly, as he tried not to wince from her sharp nails digging into his flesh.
The nails were withdrawn and Gabrielle listened intently as Sherene explained that her father was in a condition which indicated that he was being systemically drained by a vampire, despite the round the clock guard upon him. However, Patriarch Carlson had no memory of any such incidents and the Church's doctors were at a loss to explain his condition any other way. Carlson became gaunter week by week, and soon they would not be able to hide his "illness" any longer. As it was, all public appearances had been cancelled due, it was said, to a virulent strain of swine flu.
Gabriel's job was to find out who was doing this and why (if possible), with authorization given for on-the-spot executions without confession. As in all such assignments, Damselle Sherene had Gabriel swear his oath on the holy book, in this case her own personal copy which she carried everywhere (she assured him) in her huge designer handbag. She handed him the case file (which consisted of a mere two pages) and ordered him to consign it to memory as the limousine pulled up at the corner of Rose and Vermouth, a dismal and shabby neighborhood on the outskirts of Thadson's Cross.
"What a horrible place to live," murmured Sherene as Gabriel handed her the back the file.
"It's not so bad," replied Gabriel politely, in his gentle cultured voice, as he handed her back the file. He was eager to leave and begin work. The woman's perfume was as overwhelming as her personality. Animalistic, earthy, musky, with a bitter hint of deadly nightshade. "I'll report back to you soon."
They would avenge her father, if not save him, for he knew that even now, it may be too late.
He tried to open the car door, but found it still locked. He turned his head in innocent inquiry and found Sherene smiling at him in a markedly predatory manner. Springing upon him, she grabbed him by his collar and pressed herself into him, jamming her thick tongue into his delicate mouth, and rubbing herself with abandon upon his lean, muscular frame.
"Damselle!" protested Gabriel, twisting his face to the side, "Please, this is not seemly."
Sherene's expression darkened dangerously. This is why Gabriel hated working with women of her type. There was something about his elegant carriage, his finely-chiseled features, his long dark hair (which he never let flow free in the style of the day, but pulled it back sternly at the nape of his neck), his cultured voice, his modest manner –some indefinable thing that seem to drive overbearing women of a certain persuasion to attack his person like this.
"Not while I'm working for you," amended Gabriel, never more grateful for the strictness of his Order's profession. "It's against rules."
Sherene's face (which he would probably see again in his nightmares tonight), relaxed to a victorious smirk. "Come by when you're otherwise employed, then," she commanded, tugging at his cravat possessively. "You might have heard who my mother was." (Yes, Gabriel had heard that she was a highly-paid courtesan, executed by the Patriarch's own hand, after the unfortunate woman gave birth to Sherene.)
"I inherited her cookbook," Sherene purred, nibbling at his ear. "I promise to prepare you something that you'll just love to lap up."
Trying not to display his shuddering thoughts, Gabriel strove for composure as the click of a lock being released caught his ear. Hastily, he sprang out of the vehicle, suppressing the urge to brush off his pants at the crotch. Laughing at him, Sherene slammed shut the door and the limousine sped off.
He really hated his job. Even though he had a high rank among the ministry, creatures like Sherene could order him around, stalk him, prey on him because of who they knew or because of family ties. But he was at the mercy of the system.
For example, he still remembered that weekend with Damselle Tamesa. Locked in her villa, when he was asked to visit her to hear her (supposed) deathbed confession. A lifetime of hot baths couldn't wash that away the experience of that bondage. The Church was corrupt, but what religious organization didn't have its problems? He was trapped. The Faithful didn't "quit." It was this life for him or go over to the Darkness. And that he would never do.
Later that night, after contacting several key informants, Gabriel found himself breaking into the home of an unregistered vampire clan, who peculiarly called themselves Joricks. A strange appellation, but he had no time to research its origin. He had watched from afar until the majority of them left, most of them apparently as high as a kite and shrieking with laughter, probably for the vampire film festival being held downtown.
Creeping in silently, Gabriel started searching the place. While he found plenty of incriminating evidence that would justify him terminating the entire nest on general principal, he didn't find anything related to his current assignment. There was just one room left at the end of the hall to check, then he would be on his way.
Making his way with light steps down the old hallway, he halted. There were sounds. Definitely sounds of two people, living or undead, who were either having sex or being tortured. Or both. Gabriel unsheathed his blade. The ancient wooden door had swung open from its badly-fitted framework. Gabriel moved closer and peered in. Strewn across the floor was a backless, long-sleeved evening gown in sky blue. Stinking of an unforgettable perfume. Oh this was bad. This was very bad.
Another thin inhuman scream.
Then a voice. Sherene's voice. "Be nice to me and I'll be nice to you," she growled. "Soon my father will be dead and I won't have to beg for his checkbook anymore. I'll be rich, rich and powerful because I know every dirty secret that he and his friends have. I can take you out of here. You won't have to "entertain" customers anymore, while the Joricks take all the profit. It will be just you and me."
An agonized groan met Gabriel's ear. Whether it was from some vile practice or simply the thought of being closeted with Sherene forever, he couldn't tell.
Gabriel sprung into the room and while what he saw amazed and revolted him, he was used to taking the bizarre and unusual in stride. Without hesitation, he swung his midnight-black blade and beheaded Sherene, even as, fangs bared in a feral snarl, she reached for the weapon on the night table.
Wiping his bloody blade on the grimy bed sheets as Sherene's head (whose expression now looked quite surprised) rolled across the floor, he placed the blade back in its sheath, and set about unchaining the poor fae that was prisoned there, while averting his eyes from his predicament.
"It will be alright," he soothed him. "Don't be afraid. I'm so very sorry, I apologize on behalf of the Order of the Faithful for that…evil woman."
The fae man, at least he assumed it was a male, looked at him with huge glowing yellow eyes and nodded wearily and whispered in his accented voice, "You killed the Shewolf of Thadson's Cross. She has hunted my kind. But she was not of the Faithful."
Gabriel quirked a brow even as he gently helped the fae to sit up and assisted him with wiping off the blood, ignoring the faint electric shock. "What do you mean, not of the Faithful? And how did you come to be captured by the vampires?"
The fae patted him with a feathery hand that was quickly healing from the marks of the iron chains. "She – a priestess of the Darkness. A minor child, seeking to devour her way upwards."
Devour her way upwards? The fae often didn't make sense, but Gabriel got the general idea. Could this be true? All this time, Sherene was one of the enemy?
"I will show you how they captured," the fae continued, struggling to stand up as Gabriel assisted him. "As a reward for you." With his arm around Gabriel, he tugged them slightly towards the wall behind him, which suddenly opened up into a huge portal of violet and green light.
"Wait! NO!" shouted Gabriel, digging in his heels. The fae stopped and stared. Humans were so hard to understand.
"Very well. Here, for you, this rare and precious object. Use it well." The creature pressed something small and hard into Gabriel's hand and let himself drift backwards into the portal which solidified back into a shabby wall after the fae's passage through it.
Gabriel stared at his hand. Residing there was a copper-topped AA battery. Was there any hope that this was secretly a fabulous enchanted gift? No. None whatsoever. However, who couldn't use an extra AA battery?
Gabriel tucked in his pocket with a sigh and let himself out through the bedroom window. It really was time for him to look for another line of work.
