The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (30 page)

BOOK: The Generator: The Succubae Seduction
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“But you can learn to do that. In fact, the skill you just displayed is above what you should be able to do, after less than a week of practice. I will never be able to learn what you’re capable of,” she states defiantly.

“So?” I ask back. “I’ll never know what it’s like to be a woman.” Taking in a deep breath, I add, “If it really bothers you that much, then I’ll take you home when this is done, and not bother you anymore, but I want you to understand that it doesn’t matter to me.”

Her blue eyes examine me for a few moments before she replies. “Maybe it doesn’t bother you today, but when you can have a woman like her around,” she flings her arm out to point at Angela, “why would you want a silly mortal like me?”

I have to fight hard not to laugh. I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her, or belittling her argument, but she really doesn’t understand.

“He can’t keep me,” Angela says, stepping up to us. There is a sadness in her tone that wipes away my mirth.

“What do you mean?” Lisa asks, warily.

“Different species can’t mix. It’s against our strongest laws. He is a Generator, while I’m a succubus. If we were to have any offspring, they could be very dangerous.” Somehow, despite the rain pouring down her face, I get the impression that she’s crying. Odd to see an Amazon crying. “I left him, because I was afraid of my own emotions. I only came back because I owe Brooke a favor.” She looks at me for a second, before dropping her gaze. “I had hoped to die, and let him be free of me.” I remember how she had pushed for me to let her die, so that I could save Brooke. That whole scene takes on a whole new personality now. “He cares too much, though, and I couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain.”

“That still doesn’t resolve why he would choose to be with Becky or me. I’ve seen Brooke. What’s to stop him from going after her when he gets bored with us?” I’m surprised to hear so much pain in her voice. We haven’t been together long, but obviously she cares deeply for me.

“For the same reason,” I tell her. “Brooke is a mermaid.”

She spins on me, and I can see anger in her eyes now. “So what’s to stop you from finding another . . . whatever you are? I’m a human, so that means we can’t be together either!”

“I’m a Generator, and I’m not even supposed to exist.” I have to swallow the lump that tries to form in my throat as I speak, not wanting to say the words, but also knowing that I can’t hide from the truth anymore. “I don’t know what my parents were, but I know they were killed for being together. For having me. Who knows, one of them may have been human, but I don’t even know that. Brooke saved my life for some reason. None of that matters, though. You want to know why I won’t abandon you? Because that’s not who I am. Brooke may very well have been the one to kill my parents, but tomorrow I’m still going to face my deepest fears, enter that water, and save her.” The words are out of my mouth, before I even comprehend them. Brooke was an assassin. Assassins were sent to kill those who broke the laws about different species mating. She was also there to save me two days later. “Not just because she’s a friend, but because
I
don’t abandon anyone.” I shoot a dark glance at Angela, accusing her of doing just that to me, then turn and walk into the forest.

My emotions are broiling inside, and I don’t know what to think or feel. I can’t ignore the thoughts that have been in the back of my mind any longer. Brooke had been there when my parents were killed. Yes, she’d saved my life, and her being a mermaid gives me an idea as to how I’d been able to survive for two days, until Brooke pretended to find me and take me to the local police station.

Marchosias’s comment about me not needing a potion to survive under the water becomes clear to me as well. Despite myself, I start laughing. Not the happy giddy laugh I’d been having, but a dark angry laugh. All those years of being afraid of any water deeper than my knees, and I can likely breathe under water just fine. Likely something I picked up from Brooke when I was still a little child. That doesn’t quite seem right, though as I know our souls couldn’t have mixed back then.

Everything keeps coming back to the assassin mermaid. Why had she stuck with me all those years? Was it to watch me, and maybe kill me if I became too dangerous? Why save me in the first place, then? Too many questions and the only one that can answer them is wallowing in a prison, deep below the waves. Tomorrow, one way or another, I’m going to have some answers!

“Lyden?” a soft voice says, and I spin around, ready to defend myself. To my surprise, it’s AnnaBelle. Her usually soft brown eyes are hard as she sees me in a defensive crouch.

“Sorry,” I mumble as I stand up straight again.

“Don’t apologize to me, young man,” she says in a tone that makes me want to apologize again. “You’ve hurt those two ladies out there, and while I don’t condone the way you’re living, I can see that they both care deeply for you.”

“I’ve hurt. . . .” I trail off, not understanding. Lisa had made demands of me. All I’d done was defend myself. How had I hurt
them
? Angela had stepped in, and basically declared that she’d rather be dead, than with me. Okay, maybe that’s an oversimplification of things, but still!

AnnaBelle’s brown eyes never leave me, and I start to fidget as I try to come up with something to say back. Is there anything to say? Anything that won’t get me into hotter water?

“Well, I’m not going to stand out here in the rain while you try and figure out where you went wrong,” she states, and walks back down to the beach, muttering about the impertinence of youth until she’s out of earshot.

When did I get an ornery grandmother? Sheesh!

Sighing, I try to gather what bits of my pride I might have left, and walk out of the forest. I find the other two women standing on the shore, looking out over the choppy waves. There is a small distance between them as though they want to be close for comfort, but can’t overcome their differences.

Where did that insight come from?

“Lisa, Angela, I’m sorry for my outburst back there,” I say, and don’t expect their reaction.

Both women turn and tackle me in a fierce hug. Sputtering, I try to catch myself, but the rain soaked sand gives way beneath me, and I go down. With Lisa alone, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but with Angela as an Amazon, the wind gets knocked from my lungs.

“No, Lyden, we’re sorry,” Lisa pouts into my left shoulder. “I had no idea about what you had going on, and I guess I didn’t really understand you either. Just. . . . Just promise me, no more secrets?”

Still unable to breathe, I just nod, and she hugs me tighter. Air is overrated anyway.

Angela pulls away from us, and I can see tears in her eyes, even though the rain has us all soaked. “We’re not good for each other, Lyden,” she starts to say, but I cut her off.

“What does it matter?” I demand of her. “You’re already an outlaw in this world, and doubly now for helping me bring Lisa and AnnaBelle here. You make me happy, Angelica,” I don’t know why, but for some reason I feel it important to use the name Marchosias had used, “and I’m not willing to give you up.”

“No one has called me that in centuries, except for Marchosias, and. . .” she cries, a smile in her eyes. She looks to Lisa, and the smile fades. “You have a girlfriend,” she says sadly. “A succubus isn’t a good thing to have in a relationship. Especially not one over four hundred years old.” She starts to walk away, but Lisa disengages herself from me and stops her.

“I haven’t known you for long,” the blonde says, “but I’ve noticed you seem to worry more about what should or shouldn’t be, than what those around you think or feel. I can’t speak for Becky, but you came to rescue AnnaBelle and me from those little green creatures. I can see the level of your character in your actions, and I’d like to get to know you better.”

“But, you know what I am,” Angela attempts to back up, but Lisa matches her steps. “I absorb a portion of a person’s soul when I copulate with them. It’s not that I’m trying to protect myself. I could hurt you.”

Standing up, I approach the succubus, and stop her with a hand on her arm. “But you won’t,” I tell her. “And as long as I’m around, you won’t be able to hurt her, because I’ll just generate enough to keep us all safe.”

“If that were the only problem, I would relent, but Lyden; you know what happened last time we were together. The temptation was too strong. I almost made a terrible mistake.” I can see desperation in her eyes. She wants this as much as I do, but she’s also afraid of the consequences.

“I think that should be my decision too,” I tell her firmly, locking her eyes with my own. “I’ve been figuring out some things with my ability to absorb other’s abilities. I can breathe underwater, even though I’ve never actually slept with Brooke. It would explain what Marchosias meant about me not needing that potion. I have no doubt that I can choose when to procreate, just like you can. We’re safe there, too.”

You’d think I’d just given her the moon as she hugs me tightly. In fact, if she hugs me any tighter, my head’s going to pop off, just like that orc’s head a couple weeks back.

“Can’t . . . breathe,” I gasp, and the Amazonian succubus lets me go. She turns and hugs Lisa a bit more gently, while I try and gasp for sweet air. Rain gets sucked up instead, and I end up doubling over, and coughing instead. “Definitely
not
a fantasy to have you in that form,” I gasp when I can get enough air into my lungs.

Both women laugh, and Angela slaps my back hard enough to send me to sprawling back to the ground.

“Lyden,” she says solicitously, “If you’re that weak right now, you’re going to be in trouble tomorrow.” She turns and winks at Lisa, “I think we need to recharge his batteries.”

“I thought we’d never get to that,” Lisa nearly bounces as she starts stripping off her sodden clothing.

“What about AnnaBelle?” I ask, looking over to the Orange Bubble only a small distance down the beach. Even with this rain, if she looks our way, she might be able to see us. I really don’t care to deal with the pious woman’s wrath.

“She can watch if she wants,” Angela states, “but right now, you’re ours.” She starts to strip as well, and then pauses.

What now? I wonder, but she pulls something from her animal skin clothing. She looks at it for a few seconds, and I can tell she’s trying to come to a decision. Without warning she turns, and I know she’s about to throw whatever it is into the water. I catch her arm just in time, and pull the thin object from her hand.

“No don’t,” she cries, but I turn around and look at it. Carved into a thin sheet of marble is the image of a young woman. The workmanship is exquisite, showing every nuance and shadow. Even though it’s shaped out of marble, it somehow reflects color. “Please don’t look at it,” she pleads with me again.

“Who is it?” I ask, and an almost completely naked Lisa looks over my shoulder, her left breast pressed into my arm.

“She’s pretty,” she says. “How did they get the stone to give her that chocolaty skin color?”

I look up to Angela, while I wait for an answer. Then I realize, and curse myself for not having realized it earlier. “This is you!” I exclaim in shock and see the confirmation written across her face. I look back at the carved relief, and examine it closer. Her skin tone has a deep brown color to it, her hair long and curly black. Full red lips shape her mouth in a face that had obviously seen hard times. A small nose sits beneath almond shaped eyes that give away some Asian heritage. She looks to be in her early twenties, her cheeks slightly sunken, and the corners of her lips pointed slightly down. Like Lisa had said, she was pretty, but it’s obvious that the marble carving doesn’t do her justice.

“You hate me now,” Angela says sullenly. “I understand. Just please, don’t—“ In the time it’s taken for her to form those words, I send the image of who she used to be, back at her. As I watch her body transform into a slightly shorter, black-Asian mixed heritage woman, I pull her to me and kiss her soft lips, ending words that have no reason to be said.

“Don’t leave me out!” Lisa pouts when it looks like the kiss may continue for a while, and I pull back, laughing.

“What makes you think I would be bothered by the original you?” I ask, curiosity filling me.

“I . . . I was a slave,” she says haltingly. “I was abused, and constantly told how worthless I was. I had forgotten everything until I asked Marchosias to show me again. You had asked to see the real me, Lyden.” she stops to swallow before continuing, “And I asked him. You can change me to whatever you want now. I know that my original self isn’t that pleasing.”

“The hell?” Lisa states, reflecting my own thoughts. “You’re beautiful! I wish I had hips like those, or even a chest half that size!”

Angela blinks at the other woman, and then turns questioningly to me. “Well, I don’t want those hips and breasts myself,” I tell her, “unless they’re in my mouth, on top of me, or in my hands, or—.”

The dark skinned succubus hugs me tightly again, cutting me off. At least she doesn’t crack my ribs this time, and I can hear her laughing.

“Now if you two keep leaving me out, I’m going to develop a complex!” Lisa says and stomps her foot in the wet sand. Just that quickly, Angela lets me go, and hugs Lisa tightly. “This is more like it!”

Laughing myself, I take the half-step over to them, and wrap both women in my arms. They turn to look at me and their lips come together with mine in a shared kiss.

Lisa is the first to break it. “Am I going to be the only one half naked?” Laughing, I strip my clothes off, reveling in the feeling of the warm rain running down my body.

Turning to Angela, I see that she’s taken a couple steps away, refusing to look at us.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried once more for the succubus. This is not like her in the least.

“I know it’s silly, but I’m embarrassed.” What the heck? A succubus embarrassed? Is that even possible?

“What do you have to be embarrassed about?” I ask her. “It’s not like we haven’t been together before.”

Lisa’s backhand to my chest throws me off balance.

“Idiot,” she accuses. “This is the real her. You’ve never been with
her
.”

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