Succubus Shadows (16 page)

“Walk away,” said the officer. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Luc’s fists were balled up. “Let her go,” he repeated. “I won’t tell you again.”

The officer laughed, but it was a harsh, terrible sound. “You won’t tell me anything.”

I tried my best to peer at Luc while still in that hard grip. “Go,” I told him. “It’ll be all right. I’ll be okay.”

“Smart girl,” said the German.

Luc lunged at him, and I was shoved out of the way as the two men grappled with each other. I stared in horror. Everything happened so quickly that my brain barely had time to even register what I was seeing. Luc was strong and fast, but the other guy was huge—and had a knife. I saw it flash briefly in what light was left, and then Luc’s body went rigid. The officer stepped back, jerking the blade out of Luc’s stomach as he did.

I shrieked and tried to run toward him, but the Nazi’s arm stopped me, grabbing hold of me once more. Luc’s hands clutched at his stomach as blood flowed from it. He looked down at it in disbelief, like he was waiting for a punch line to reveal itself, and then he collapsed to the ground. I tried again to break free of my captor but couldn’t. Luc’s eyes gazed up at me, though his lips couldn’t form any words as he lay there in that terrible agony, the life pouring out of his body.

“There,” said the German officer, pulling me so that I was pressed against his chest. His knife had disappeared to wherever it had come from, and the hand that had held it—the hand that had stabbed Luc—was reaching under my shirt again. “Now there are no more distractions.”

I heard Luc make a strangled sound as the officer ripped open the last of my buttons. Enough of my numbed shock wore off that I remembered I could fight back here. I could shape-shift to twice this guy’s size and—

Thunk.
The Nazi’s head lurched forward as something struck him from behind. His hold on me released, and he fell to the ground unconscious. Bastien stood behind him holding a hat block: a heavy, rounded wooden object used for constructing hats.

“I’d know your scream anywhere,” he said.

I had no time for his joking or to offer thanks. I dropped to my knees beside Luc and pulled off my blazer, frantically trying to use it to stop the bleeding. He was still conscious, and his eyes were on my face, still full of that hope and love that was so characteristic of him. Bastien knelt beside me, face solemn.

“No human medicine can fix this, Fleur,” he said quietly.

“I know.” I’d known as soon as I’d seen Luc fall. It was why I hadn’t sent Bastien to get help. “Oh God. This can’t be happening.”

“It’s…all right.” Luc’s words were barely audible, and I had a feeling he was choking on blood. “You’re safe…all that matters…” He coughed again, and this time I did see blood near his lips.

“No, no,” I said. “It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it. None of this should have happened!”

It was my fault. All my fault. Luc had come to save me from the German. I’d run into the German because I’d fled from Luc. And I’d fled from Luc because I’d suddenly latched on to a moral high ground and refused to have sex with him. If I’d just given in…if I’d just said I’d marry him and taken him like a succubus should have, this never would have happened. We would have been lying in the grass right now, naked in each other’s arms. Instead, he’d died in this alley because of me, because of my weakness. I was a succubus who’d tried to act human—and I’d done a shitty job at both.

Luc was beyond speech now. Everything was said with his eyes as he gazed at me, like I was some angel sent to carry him home. Bastien nudged me.

“Fleur, he’s going to stay alive a little while. You know how long stomach wounds take. It’s agony.”

“I know,” I growled, choking off a sob. “You don’t need to tell me.”

Bastien’s voice was grave. “You can stop it. Ease his suffering.”

I stared at Bastien incredulously. “What do you expect me to do? Go get that knife and finish him?”

He shook his head. “He’s only got a little life left, Fleur. Only a little. You won’t need to do much.”

I didn’t get it right away. When I did, I felt my eyes go wide. “No…I can’t…”

“He dies regardless,” said Bastien. “You can make it faster…sweeter…”

I was still shaking my head, but Bastien’s words had penetrated. He was right. He was right, and I hated him because he was right. Turning from Bastien, I looked back at Luc, whose brow I’d been stroking with my hand. His gaze was still turned upward, still at me. A drop of water fell on his cheek, and I realized it was one of my tears.

“Good-bye, Luc,” I said softly. It seemed like I should say a million other things to him, but I couldn’t form the words. So, instead, I leaned down and brought my lips to his. I pressed against them, making full contact, though it had none of the animal passion from before. This was gentler. A whisper of a kiss.

But as Bastien had said, it didn’t take much. The beautiful, silvery sweetness of his life energy flowed into me. It was just as pure and perfect as before—and it was gone quickly. I took it into me and sat up, just as Luc exhaled his last breath. The eyes that had watched me so adoringly saw nothing now. I sat up and leaned against Bastien.

“I killed him,” I said, no longer holding the tears back.

“You brought him peace. You were his angel.” It was an eerie echo of my earlier sentiments.

“No, this…I mean, before. He shouldn’t have been out here. He’s here because…because of me. If I’d slept with him, this wouldn’t have happened. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt him…didn’t want to taint him…and then this happened….”

Bastien put his arm around me. “If it makes you feel better, his soul won’t be going to our people.”

I buried my face in his shoulder. “This is my fault. My fault…I should have done what I was supposed to do. I was ready to—then he asked me to marry him and—damn it. I should have done it. I should have lied. It would have been better for everyone. I don’t know how this happened….”

“It happened because you get too close to them,” said Bastien. He was stern but trying hard to be gentle. “Men like this…anyone like this…they enchant you, Fleur. You get attached and then you get hurt.”

“Or I hurt them,” I murmured.

“You need to stay indifferent.”

“It’s getting worse,” I said. “Every time, it’s harder on me. I don’t understand. What’s happening to me? What’s wrong with me?”

“Immortality,” he said wisely. “Too many years.”

“What do you know? You’re younger than me.”

Bastien helped me stand, though I was reluctant to let Luc go. “I know that you can’t keep doing this. Listen to what I said: don’t get attached to these good ones. No matter what you do, it won’t end well.”

“I won’t go near the good ones at all,” I said in a small voice. “No more. I’m staying away from them altogether.”

Bastien’s kindly mien dropped. “That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Weren’t you listening to me earlier? You can’t go after immoral men for eternity. You’d get no energy. You’d have to do it every other day.”

I looked down at Luc, Luc who had loved me and gotten killed for me. My fault. All my fault.

“Never again,” I said. “I won’t ever hurt anyone like that again.”

When I returned to the box in the dark, I didn’t need the Oneroi to enlighten me. All of that dream had been true—except for the last part. It had been a lie. I had continued to hurt people, over and over.

R
eally, when you thought about it, what I was going through wasn’t that much different from dying after all. They always said you saw your life flash before your eyes, and that’s how it was for me. Dream after dream. I relived the most painful moments of my life, true dreams where I’d done terrible things and seen terrible things done to those I loved. More “realities” that had never happened were shown to me as well. In one, Roman’s recent display of affection turned out to be a scam. It was a front to punish me for my role in the death of his sister. Only, he didn’t go after me directly. He went after all my friends, mortal and immortal. I watched him kill them one by one as he ignored my pleas to just finish me off instead.

The Oneroi latched onto how I was bothered more by the suffering of those I loved than of myself. They mocked me, claiming that Roman’s rampage was a vision of the future that had come through the gate of horn. I didn’t believe it…at least, I didn’t think I did. Nyx could see the future. Could they? Or were they maybe in contact with her, despite her imprisonment? My higher reasoning was giving way to paranoia as I was stripped further and further of my essence. I even began to dread the true dreams from the mortal world, the ones that showed me my friends. They were no longer a comfort; they only plunged me further into darkness. Because as the Oneroi had predicted, there seemed to be no hope of rescue in sight.

Still, I kept dreaming….

Roman, Hugh, and the vampires were in a van. Peter was driving, and the clock on the dashboard read two o’clock in the morning. No one spoke in the small space, giving me no clue as to what was transpiring. Their headlights illuminated a sign along the freeway that indicated an exit for Idaho State Route 41. Idaho?

“Can you change the station?” asked Hugh. “I hate talk radio.”

“Because you might learn something?” asked Peter.

“Because I’m trying to stay awake.”

“It’s a rule of the road: driver controls the radio.”

“What rule book says that?”

“Enough,” said Roman. His voice was weary, his face more so. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping much, but considering the time of night, that wasn’t a surprise. He unfolded a map and then checked a piece of paper with some notes scrawled on it. “It should be the next exit.”

“How’d Carter even find this guy?” asked Cody.

“Because Carter moves in mysterious ways,” said Hugh. “Hard-drinking, hard-smoking mysterious ways.”

“Yeah, but if he knew, why didn’t he tell Jerome?”

“Because Jerome would go into blasting mode if he found out. I guess Carter was keeping it on the down-low as some sort of compassionate act. He’s an angel and all.”

“Oh, right.” Cody seemed to have forgotten about that. It was an easy mistake.

“Jerome’ll blast us too if he knows what we’re doing,” warned Peter.

“He’s too distracted. He thinks we’re just following a vampire lead.”

“That’s the point,” said Peter. “If he finds out we lied to him—”

“He won’t,” interrupted Roman impatiently. “Not if we just get what we need from this guy and get out of here. This is it—take that exit.”

Hugh veered off onto what hardly seemed like a road at all. It had no businesses and only one streetlight to illuminate an intersection, just before darkness swallowed everything. Roman continued giving directions, steering them farther and farther into the countryside.

“You can’t do anything to him,” said Hugh, craning his head to look at Roman in the backseat. “Show any flare of power in another demon’s territory, and you’re dead—probably along with the rest of us.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” demanded Roman.

“Not exactly. But I do think you’re short-tempered, have poor impulse control, and would do anything for Georgina.”

I expected Roman to deny all of that—or at least the last part—but he said nothing. Silence fell again until Roman at last pointed to a narrow gravel driveway. It was so hard to see that Peter drove past it, squealed the brakes, and backed up. They parked near the driveway’s end and began walking up it. I saw then that the back of the van had blacked-out windows, and it was a safe bet that the vampires’ coffins were likely back there in case daytime travel was required. Out here in the middle of nowhere, stars clustered the sky, and night insects rained down a symphony of chatter. The faint outline of a house appeared. No lights were on within.

“Can we do it SWAT team style?” asked Cody eagerly. “Surround the house and swoop in?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Roman. He gave the door a sharp kick. It shuddered but didn’t come close to breaking apart action-movie style. Keeping his nephilim powers in check meant he had the same abilities as a human.

Peter sighed. “Let me.” He took Roman’s place, repeated the kick, and this time the door did burst in and break apart. With their goofy attitudes, it was easy to forget sometimes that both Cody and Peter had super fast reflexes and enhanced strength. Peter stepped back, brushing splinters off his pants.

The foursome entered, and a light turned on in the back of the house.

“What the hell?” a voice demanded.

What the hell, indeed. Dante entered the room.

He took one look at my friends and said, “Oh, shit.”

Then he bolted back toward the room he’d come from, no doubt heading for a window. He was too slow, though. In a flash, Cody had Dante by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him back to the living room, shoving my ex-boyfriend into a chair. Dante immediately started to rise, noticed how my friends had closed rank around him, and then thought better of it.

Dante sighed. “Well, I knew this had to happen some day. Why didn’t your boss come himself?” He peered at Roman. “And haven’t I seen you somewhere?” Dante had seen Roman on a beach when we rescued Jerome from the summoning. There’d been a fair amount of chaos, so I wasn’t surprised Dante’s memory was sketchy—especially since he’d been beaten up by a demon.

“We’re not here because of Jerome,” snapped Hugh. Then, he reconsidered. “Well, we are, but not for the reasons you think.”

“Answer our questions, and you might live another day,” said Peter. Apparently, the action-movie theme was still going strong.

“Where’s Georgina?” demanded Roman. It was interesting that every time my immortal posse interrogated someone, they phrased the question that way first, instead of, “Do you know where Georgina is?” When you worked for Hell, everyone was guilty until proven innocent.

Dante’s face lost some of its fear and took on its usual cynical look. He tossed messy black hair out of his face. “In Seattle, sleeping with that fucking writer.”

“No,” said Roman. “She’s not.”

“She’s not what? In Seattle or sleeping with the writer?” Dante arched an eyebrow. “And who
are
you exactly?”

“The muscle,” said Hugh dryly. “Georgina’s gone. Vanished. And if anyone’s got reason to make her disappear”—he paused and glanced uneasily at Roman—“it’s you.”

“I’m not the kind of magician that pulls rabbits out of my hat. Or makes them disappear.” Dante was growing more and more confident, now that he knew Jerome wasn’t going to send him to the torture pits of Hell. “If you can’t find her, ask your archdemon. Unless he’s been summoned again, he’ll know.”

“He doesn’t,” said Cody. “But maybe you already knew that.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “You think I’m going to go anywhere near Seattle when there’s a price on my head? Do you think I’m hiding out in the fucking sticks because I want to? The best I can do is sell charms and fake fortunes to tourists in Coeur d’Alene.”

“Carter should have come with us,” said Hugh in exasperation. “He should have known that too after sending us here.”

Dante stiffened, his arrogance faltering. “That angel knows where I am? Then Jerome has to know.”

“He’s keeping it from Jerome. For now.” Peter was still using that melodramatic voice. “That can change if you don’t help us.”

“I don’t know where she fucking is, okay? I told you: I can’t make a succubus disappear.”

Roman’s hand closed around Dante’s neck in a fair approximation of Jerome. Even without supernatural abilities, Roman was still strong. “You’ve worked with immortals before. You could do it again and have them do the dirty work.”

“I show my face to any immortal, and I’m a dead man,” choked Dante. Roman fixed Dante with a dark glare that reminded me of the time Roman had tried to kill me. And when he
had
killed me in a recent Oneroi dream. At last, Roman let go. Rubbing his neck, a puzzled Dante asked again, “Who
are
you?”

Cody glanced at the others. “Do you think he’s lying?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Hugh. He crossed his arms across his broad chest. “But maybe you can be useful. What
could
make a succubus disappear?”

“What’ll you give me for helping you?” asked Dante slyly. Yes, that was my ex. Always looking for an advantage.

“We won’t call Jerome,” growled Peter. This time, the anger in his voice was not faux movie style. It was real, again a reminder that at the end of the day, he really was a vampire who could break necks easily.

This sobered Dante up. “Fine. Not that I care what the fuck happens to her. How did she disappear?”

Again, the story was recounted, something that was beginning to depress me—largely because everyone seemed to emphasize just how depressed and miserable my life was.

“It’s a lure,” said Dante with certainty.

“We know that,” said Roman. “Erik told us.”

Dante scowled at the mention of his nemesis. “Of course he did. It’s a wonder you need me with his almighty wisdom at your disposal.”

“What would lure her?” said Peter, no doubt interrupting Dante from asking again who Roman was.

“All sorts of things,” said Dante. “Anything could create a lure, but visions like that would most likely be tied to dreams. Did you guys lose Nyx again?”

“No,” said Hugh.

Dante shrugged. “Then look for something else that can control dreams, maybe try a—”

I stood in the village I’d grown up in.

The transition was so abrupt that I was dizzy for a moment. There hadn’t been a transition, no fragmenting of the image or a fade to black. It had been a quick movie cut. A bad editing job.

I stared around, seeing again the place that had caused me so much torment. I wondered what else the Oneroi had to show me here and why I’d come here so suddenly. I’d already relived the false wedding accusations. At one point, they’d even had me dream the true story of how my infidelity had led to me selling my soul. I was probably now in store for some new contrived horror. The world spun around me, the buildings and people moving around in rough-spun clothes dizzying me.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked.

Turning around, the scenery settled a bit and I found myself looking into the face of an ancient man. Bushy eyebrows stretched across a heavily lined brow, nearly obscuring dark brown eyes.

“Yes…I’m fine.” I frowned and did a double take. “Gaius?”

Those eyebrows rose. “Have we met?”

I stared, unable to speak for a moment. I’d known Gaius since the time I could walk. He was a blacksmith, the brawniness of his arms proving as much. But he’d been young the last time I’d seen him, a man in his prime. With no control, words spilled off my lips, words I’d spoken before when I’d lived this event the first time. This was a true memory. So far.

“We met a very long time ago,” I said.

He chuckled. “Girl, I’d remember you. And ‘a very long time ago’ could only have been a few years for you.”

I became aware of my body, knowing what I looked like even without a mirror. I had shape-shifted just before entering the village, taking on a form I had sworn I would never, ever wear again. And, in fact, after this day, I never would wear it again. I was in my original body: fifteen-year-old Letha, too tall with thick, tangled black hair. I’d come here to find out something. Something I had to know.

I gave Gaius a weak nod. My old self had been as shocked as my current self at what time had done to him. How long since I’d become a succubus and left my village? Thirty years ago?

“Can you tell me…is there a man here—a fisherman—named Marthanes? Does his family still live here?”

“Sure,” he said. “Same house they’ve always been in, out past the—”

“I know where it is,” I said quickly.

He shrugged, not minding my interruption. “He’s probably down at the bay, though. He’s too old to still be working but swears his sons-in-law can’t get by without him.”

Sons-in-law. Of course. My sisters would have gotten married long ago.

“Thanks,” I said. I began to walk away. “It was nice seeing you again.” He gave me a puzzled look but said nothing more.

I walked toward the bay, where the water glowed with such a vivid, teal-tinged blue that it seemed to be some Technicolor vision. Surely nothing in nature could produce such beauty. Longing and nostalgia welled up within my watching self.

The town was busy at midday, and I recognized more faces than I expected. Children I’d known grown to adulthood, adults I’d known now in their golden years. The waterfront was just as busy, with ships loading and unloading goods that made commerce in the Mediterranean boom. It took me a while to find my father, and here, I earned more looks than I had in the village. Women were rare in this district, choosing to avoid the rough sailors and workers. I located my father largely because of his voice, shouting orders just as he had in my youth.

“Are you trying to cost me a fortune? What do you do out there all day? My granddaughter could catch this many fish wading by the beach!”

He was yelling at a man I didn’t know, his face sheepish and cowed as he displayed what must have been today’s meager catch. I wondered if this was one of my sisters’ husbands. The man promised to do better and then scurried away.

“Fa—Marthanes?”

My father turned at my approach, and I tried not to gasp. Like Gaius, the years had carved away Marthanes the fisherman as well. How old would he be now? Sixties? Seventies? Time had grown blurred since I became immortal.