The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (69 page)

“It seems you have some control over her,” Jewkes states. “Can you safely get her to leave?”

The man’s words bring me back to the present, and our current circumstances.

WAIT FOR ME IN THE PILLAR OF EARTH’S DOMAIN, I tell her. I WILL RETURN TO YOU THERE, AND WE CAN FINISH OUR BUSINESS.

I’m not certain I want to finish our business, but I don’t know if Blue will leave without that guarantee.

ARETH, HELP GUIDE HER BACK, I order the fairy, before turning back to Blue. PLEASE DON’T EAT MY FRIEND, I tell her. BUT YOU’RE WELCOME TO SCARE HER A BIT.

The dragon seems to enjoy that thought as she takes off after the fairy, smoke trailing from her nostrils. How had the dragon and fairy come to Earth? Blue is too big to fit in that elevator.

“You’re bleeding,” Richard states, and I look down to see that my shirt is soaked in blood. Lifting up the bloody cloth, I’m happy to note that there are only three deep scratches across my abdomen, plus a few more on my sides, none of them life threatening.

Waving my hand to the Orange Bubble, I indicate that I’m ready to go.

“You are all under arrest,” a new voice sounds, and we spin to see a very large black man in a SWAT uniform carrying an equally large shotgun in his hands.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jewkes asks indignantly. Placing his hand on his holstered pistol.

“Remove your hands from your weapons,” the man intones emotionlessly. “By the power entrusted in me by the Order of the Paladonic Knights, I remand you into custody.”

Something invisible grabs a hold of me and I topple over, unable to move.

“Lyden?” Becky’s fearful voice reaches me, but I can’t turn to look in her direction. From a grunt next to me, I can only assume that Captain Jewkes is in the same predicament.

With an unsettling feeling in my stomach, I’m hoisted into the air by invisible hands and follow the dark man, the letters S.W.A.T. painted in white on the back of his body armor. Two more men join us, neither as large as the first man, and both are dressed in casual clothing.

When I see Becky, Lisa, Brooke, and somehow Jennifer join us, floating over the ground like me, I begin to struggle against my bonds, but to no avail. Somehow I’m able to breathe with no problems, but my arms and legs refuse to obey.

We stop only long enough for a self-satisfied Miranda to plant herself in front of me.

“You are a sick and disgusting creature, Mr. Snow. I will not be sorry to see you die.” Her full-armed slap across my face stings more than normal as my face can't move to dissipate the pressure. Then she turns and walks away.

The man closest to me chuckles, until the large man in front turns to look at him. “Put them to sleep, wizard. I’ll deal with our audience while you transport them back to base.”

“Where did their car go?” I hear another voice ask, right before I lose consciousness.

* * * *

Horrific pain in my mouth wakens me, and I sit up screaming. Or trying to scream. My tongue feels like it’s still on fire, and nothing I can do blocks out the pain. Dimly I’m aware of people coming in and striking me, trying to get me to shut up, but compared to the pain of my burned tongue, I barely even notice them. How long I lay here in agony, I don’t know, but the moment something pours into my mouth and the pain abates, is when I become fully aware of my surroundings.

A balding man in tan corduroy pants and a flannel shirt, looking like he belongs back in the early eighties, is bending over me, a plastic cup in his left hand and my head in his right. By the gray brick walls and dark metal bars, I figure I must be in some sort of prison.

“You burned your tongue pretty bad,” the man tells me softly. “I’ve seen this in burn victims before, where you don’t feel the full pain right away, but after a bit, the agony is horrendous.” His voice is calm and soothing, almost kind even. “What I gave you won’t heal you, I’m afraid. None of us have the skill to heal a wound that bad, but we can mitigate your pain at least. I’m afraid your tongue is nothing more than a blackened husk. Normally I’d recommend having it removed, but you’ll likely be dead soon enough anyway.” He sounds almost sad at this news.

I nod that I understand him, moving my mouth and noticing that it feels large and empty inside. I can’t even feel my teeth or cheeks.

“Is the bastard done yelling Emmet? I was getting sick of the sound of his girlish screams.” The new voice comes from the other side of the bars, and where Emmet’s tone is kind, this new guy’s inflection is cruel.

“Yes, Brock, he should be able to rest peacefully now.” Emmet heaves a heavy sigh as he gets to his feet, and walks to the barred door.

“That’s Paladin Brock to you, Emmet.” I notice that he gives no honorific to Emmet. “And I could care less if he gets any rest. Just as long as he quits that infernal yelling. He was driving the other prisoners into an uproar. I don’t understand why we haven’t already killed him. He’s obviously not human.” I catch a glimpse of the ornery Brock as he opens the door to let Emmet out. A large man with broad shoulders, and a perpetual scowl to his otherwise ugly face. His hair is cropped close to his head, with a little more on top in a military fashion. I dislike him immediately.

His mention of other prisoners reminds me that Becky, Lisa, Brooke, Richard, and Jennifer were also captured. Where had Jennifer come from? I’ll have to figure that out later. Looking around my small cell, I see a toilet in one corner, a small cot without a mattress, and nothing else. The women must be in a different cell.

My first order of business is to relieve myself, before I lie down on the cot. I try to fall asleep in order to see if I can find anyone else’s minds, but the sound of my cell door opening brings me alert.

“On your feet, monster,” Brock orders me, pointing a shotgun at my chest. I swing my feet around, off the cot, and I don’t miss the large man stepping back quickly in fear. “Slowly now. I’m not afraid to shoot you.”

I raise one eyebrow at him, questioning the quaver in his voice, but otherwise move slower. He backs away as I approach the door, and he indicates with the weapon where he wants me to go. The man follows behind me, and I can feel the barrel press between my shoulder blades as we move.

“Just so you know, this is loaded with silver buck shot, blessed by our priests.” He shoves me forward, and I stumble for a second before catching my balance again. “Move faster, the Grand Meister doesn’t have all day.”

I pick up my pace, trying not to curse at the opposing commands he gives, all the while trying to look into the cells we pass. I don’t see any of my companions. In fact, I don’t see anyone else in any of the cells. I’m guessing that they don’t take many prisoners. The walkway is large, with occasional choke points that I assume would be good for defending. The point when we leave the detention area, and enter the more functional places is obvious by the decorations on the wall, and the change from solid gray brick walls, to painted white brick walls. We pass by a series of offices before Brock stops me in front of a set of massive double doors. The doors are solid wood, probably oak, and at least twenty feet tall. Two guards, dressed in ceremonial medieval armor shined to mirror perfection, stand on either side of the doors. At our approach, they lift two long spears, and slam the metal butts hard against the floor in unison. The sound echoes down the hallway we’d just come down. A second later the big doors open.

I don’t need Brock’s prodding with his shotgun to tell me to start walking, and I can’t help my eyes growing large as we enter the new room. If I thought the doors were huge, then this room makes me think they’re too small. The ceiling is high above us, hidden behind bright lights. Large round pillars, at least six feet across and spaced thirty feet apart, line a long walkway. The walkway floor is made of dark marble, shined to reflect the ceiling. I can’t see the far end.

I swear we walk for at least a couple minutes, before Brock stops me in front of a raised dais, atop which is a white chair. Sitting in the chair is a man obviously past his prime, but in no way do I suspect him to be weak or feeble. A massive sword sits across his knees, which seems odd considering he’s in a very expensive looking business suit.

He’s not the most important thing to me now, however as I see my friends on their knees facing the Grand Meister, each with a guard behind them.

Brooke looks up at our approach, and I see her eyes grow large as she sees me, but her guard makes a threatening gesture with his shotgun, and she fearfully turns back.

Anger begins to boil inside of me at the treatment they must have received, in order to make her act so cowed. I reach for Murasame, and my hand closes on empty air.

For a second I’m overcome with shock. My sword isn’t there. Mentally I try to summon him, but a sharp pain in my skull makes me stop. Brock’s shotgun shoves me forward again, and numbly I comply.

As soon as I’m parallel with my companions, Brock uses the butt of his weapon against the back of my knees. “Bow before the mighty Grand Meister, beast.”

I still can’t believe I’ve lost my sword. How often have I wanted to be rid of the thing, only to feel naked now that it’s finally gone?

“You may leave.” The power of command behind those few deeply spoken words is astounding. My friends have said that I’m a leader, but if I live to a hundred, I’ll never be able to sound as the Grand Meister does in that one simple order.

I can hear footsteps moving away from us as the guards follow the command. We sit in silence, me because I can’t speak, my friends because of fear I think, and I have no idea why the big man on the dais stays silent.

Finally after what seems like an eternity, but is likely only a few minutes, he breaks the silence. “Please, stand.” While the words themselves are polite, his tone is still a command, and I find myself obeying before I think better of it. Is his voice magical in some way?

Growing daring, I look up at the Grand Meister, and am surprised to see kindly brown eyes looking back at me.

“I apologize for the rough treatment,” he states, remaining seated. “Unfortunately there are protocols that must be followed, set down by centuries of tradition and I’ve already broken as many of those as I can.”

I’m completely thrown off guard by his attitude, and find myself shaking my head to try and catch up.

“Why have you taken us?” Jewkes asks, stepping forward.

“Some of you are human, and I apologize for that, but some of you aren’t.” His eyes land on me, and even if I could argue, I know there’s no point in it. It’s pretty obvious after I turned into a dragon that I’m not human. “Technically we kill any non-humans we find in our world almost immediately. Of course, not many are as obvious as you, Lyden Snow. Even fewer are willing to put themselves in danger to stop a rampaging dragon.” He steeples his fingers beneath his chin as he continues to examine me. “You are a conundrum, young man. That Daughter of Respite would have me put you down immediately. She tells some interesting stories about you. I must say I’m a bit interested in exactly what you are. At first I thought you were an incubus by the way she describes you, but an incubus can’t transform into a large dragon, and quite frankly, they’re not known for being altruistic.”

I remain silent, not just because I have little choice, but I don’t trust this man. Marchosias had said that the Paladonic Knights were more dangerous than the Daughters of Respite.

“And the rest of you.” The man transfers his gaze across the rest of the group. “Captain Richard Jewkes, I’m fairly certain you just got caught up in Lyden’s machinations, but you don’t seem surprised by the fact he isn’t human. This makes me suspect that you are a collaborator with the monsters of the other world. The rest of you each have a long history here on Earth, and all but one of you has a birth certificate. Of course, Lyden has a birth certificate as well, so I guess that doesn’t mean much.” He shakes his head and actually looks sad. “So again, what am I supposed to make of you?”

It’s obvious that he expects an answer, and just for show I open my mouth as if I’m going to speak and then close it.

“I don’t know what you mean by a collaborator,” Jewkes says, speaking for the group again, “but I learned that Lyden wasn’t human just a short while ago, when Miranda Olsen tried to murder him and me.” I’m surprised to see the Grand Meister flinch at this statement. “I have since been to that other world, what he calls the Shadow World, and saw that we’re all in great danger from a creature called Aldol.”

“I am sorry for Miranda’s overzealous attack. The Daughters tend to act first, and think later. As far as this other creature, this Aldol, what danger does he pose?” I almost want to believe that he is truly sorry, but the way he moves right on to talking about Aldol makes me cautious.

Richard looks at me for a moment, before turning back to the Grand Meister. “I don’t know much about him, Lyden has already faced him a few times, but from what I understand, he wishes to destroy the Pillars of the Shadow World and destroy it.”

“And Mr. Snow can’t talk to tell us what he knows. Hmm.” The man on the dais ponders for a moment, before turning back to Jewkes. “It sounds as if we should be helping this Aldol. If he wants to destroy the other realm, your Shadow World, then why should we stop him?”

“Because if that world falls, then every creature from there will be forced back into this one,” Brooke states, stepping forward and glaring at the large man. “It doesn’t want to just destroy the other world, but all worlds.”

“It? Why would it want to destroy both worlds? Where would it live?” He sounds skeptical now, and I really can’t blame him. If I didn’t know that the thing existed outside of our dimension, I would wonder the same. Unfortunately, it looks like I’m the only one with that knowledge as everyone looks at me worriedly. “I see that the one with the answers is the only one unable to speak.” He stands up, and for the first time I realize just how large he is, well over six feet. He plants the tip of his large blade on the floor, and he glares at us for a moment before speaking again. “While your story has plenty of holes I’d like to have filled, I’m afraid you’re too dangerous to leave alive, Lyden Snow. You will be executed in the morning. As for the rest of you, you will be tested tonight, starting with you.” He points at Brooke with his weapon, and I see her shudder under his glare. “Any of you that are found to be nonhuman will be executed with him.”