The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (70 page)

The Grand Meister turns his back on us, and suddenly our guards are back, shoving us from the massive audience chamber.

Hope abandons me as we’re separated, and I have no idea where my friends are taken. Brooke is the only other nonhuman, but I can’t shake the feeling that they’re not just going to let the others go after this.

Unable to talk, and too weak after my battle with Blue, I collapse on my cot and try to get some sleep before tomorrow.

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Chapter 27

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Dreaming of Escaping

“It hurts,” Brooke’s soft voice reaches my ears and I sit up, looking around. “Oh, how it hurts!” The familiar blankness of my mindscape surrounds me and I see Brooke sitting down, her knees drawn up to her chest as she rocks herself back and forth.

Walking over to her, I place my hand on her shoulder, and she jumps away from me, before looking around in surprise. Apparently she hadn’t known she’d come here. Did I bring her here? If so, I hadn’t done it consciously.

“Oh, Lyden,” she cries into my shoulder as she flings her arms about me. “They were horrible. I was able to fool them for awhile. Then they threw me into a tank of saltwater. The way they jeered at me, and beat me. . . . Oh, Lyden, what are we going to do?”

I open my mouth before remembering my destroyed tongue.

Then shake my head, realizing that in here I’m whole.

“You’re okay, now,” I whisper, thankful to hear my own voice. Slowly I pat her head and back, until she calms down and pulls away from me.

“You don’t understand. They broke my feet and knees, laughing as I screamed for mercy!” She shudders as she hugs me again.

Anger boils up deep inside me at this revelation. I send my mind out for my other friends, hoping to pull them in here as well. To my surprise, my father appears.

“Shemhazau?” I ask, not entirely comfortable calling him Dad out loud.

The man looks down at himself, examining his hands and chest, before looking back up at me, and laughing uproariously. Brooke stays huddled to my side as she looks worriedly at the man.

“I guess whatever spell they have me shielded with doesn’t apply to this place,” he says, strolling forward and pulling Brooke and I into a hug. “Ah, you have no idea how good it feels to be in my old body, even if it’s in the Mens Mundi.”

“Mens Mundi?” I ask, not understanding.

“Mind World in Latin,” he explains. “That’s the name of this place. Oh, I know you call it a mindscape, and that works too. Either way, I already feel myself growing stronger. I was afraid I was going to expire in their little lab.”

Part of me feels guilty about forgetting that he has to stay in close proximity to me, or risk fading away, but I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.

“Is there any way you can break free?” I ask hopefully. If he can get out, then our escape will be assured.

His crest fallen face gives away the answer. “I’m being held by some sort of spell that keeps me locked in. I’m afraid you’re going to have to come get me.”

“Dang it!” I curse, stomping my foot. Is nothing going to be easy?

“You know, son. I find it odd, considering your current lifestyle, that you draw the line at properly swearing,” Shemhazau says critically of me. “A well placed swear word, or curse, can go a long way.”

“It’s a respect thing,” I tell him off-handedly, not wanting to get into it now.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Brooke asks. The fear in her voice tears me apart.

“Come on, assassin,” my father says, surprisingly trying to build her up, “It’s not like one of your kind to give up that easily. You’re not dead, yet.”

I feel the redhead stiffen at the rebuke in his tone, before pulling away from me and straightening her clothes.

“You’re right, Shemhazau, but my knees and feet are broken. I’ll be no help to you.” Her tone is formal as she addresses the man she’d once been ordered to kill.

Her injuries are going to make things nearly impossible to manage.

“And you’re going to let that stop you from trying to save the man you love?” he replies cheerily. If it’s possible, Brooke’s spine stiffens even more.

“No,” she replies in icy tones. “No I won’t.”

“Where am I?” a new voice breaks the air. I turn to see Jennifer strolling forward, fully nude. Once again, I’m shocked by the sheer size of her chesticles as they hang heavily on her chest.

“Very nice!” my father whistles at the sight of her.

She merely looks down at herself, and shrugs before striking a pose. “You like? Well, you can’t afford me, old man.”

I can’t help but laugh at her brazen attitude, or at my dad’s shocked expression.

“How did they treat you?” I ask, hoping she received better treatment because she’s human.

“Eh, a little roughly, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The bath at first was rather nice, and I didn’t mind all those men leering at me.” She leans in close as if to share a secret, but talks loud enough for everyone to hear. “Got me quite wet, to be honest with you. I was half-tempted to diddle myself when they finally returned me to my cell, but didn’t want to give them a free show. . . . Well, more of a show than they already had,” she finishes, looking down at herself again and hefting one of her large melons.

“You know,” Shemhazau says solicitously, sidling up to Jennifer, “I used to be the ruler of the succubae. I’m certain I could show you a thing or twenty.”

“Dad!” I shout, before I can think better of it.

“You’re his father?” Jennifer says, trailing one finger down his chest seductively, before pushing him gently away. “Sorry, I don’t do families.” She laughs as she turns back to me. “Thank you for giving me this body, Lyden. It’s
so
much
fun
!”

“Ahem,” Brooke clears her throat. “I think there are more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Right,” Jennifer states, becoming serious, “how are we getting out of here, Lyden-Pooh?”

Lyden-Pooh? Really?

From her laugh, I know she’s just teasing me. Apparently she really was treated better than Brooke.

“Are you kept together, or separate?” I ask, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Separate,” Brooke replies.

“How did you end up getting captured?” I ask Jennifer, remembering that she hadn’t been there when I’d gone to save Areth.

“I saw the news reports and thought you might be in the middle of it, so grabbed my rifle. When I saw your car, I went for it. They caught me just as I was getting ready to open the door.” That figures, I think. At least Ondine and Areth escaped. Ondine wasn’t there, and Areth should be safe in the Shadow World. Well as safe as anyone is there.

“None of this tells us how we’re getting out of here,” Shemhazau states, making no secret of his ogling Jennifer. It doesn’t help that she notices and keeps posing for him. What a tease I created!

He’s right of course. Mentally I summon a chair and sit in it as I try to figure things out. We‘re all trapped in separate cells, no idea where the others are, and to make matters worse, two of us will be executed in the morning.

“I’m sure you can come up with something,” Lisa says, stepping into view. Trust her to be confident in me, when things are hopeless.

By the time Becky and Richard show up, no one else has any ideas and I still haven’t come up with anything.

Thankfully, Jewkes’s mind had been hard at work, and he has a plan in mind that’s so crazy, it just might work. Okay, I know that saying is a bit cliché, but as we hammer out the details, I have to admit it’ll take a miracle to pull it off.

The only other option is imprisonment and death.

* * * *

The rattling of my cell door wakens me and groggily, I sit up. My body is stiff from having lain on the cot wrong, and being in the Mens Mundi all night doesn’t help. Despite this, a nervous energy seeps into me as I contemplate what I need to do.

Of course, it would have to be Paladin Brock’s grinning ugly mug that I wake up to.

“Get out of bed, thing,” he greets me with an uneven grin. “I’m in a particularly good mood, wanna know why?”

I glance at him groggily as I head for the door. I can feel my tongue is whole in my mouth again, but I’m not willing to let him know. My stomach rumbles, and part of me wishes that the Mens Mundi would feed me as well as heal me.

“Oh, that’s right. Your tongue doesn’t work anymore,” he mimics sounding sad about that, but his quick grin is back in a second. “I’m in a good mood because it’s not every day that we get to kill two of your ilk. Too bad the one is a mermaid. I’d love to have a go at her, even if her titties are a bit small, but at least the one with the massive knockers is human. We’re going to have fun with her after we put you down.” He’s treating me more like an animal, than a . . . well, okay, so I’m not human, but I still don’t deserve this treatment. I know he’s just trying to goad me into attacking him, though his words still anger me.

I do my best to act defeated and downtrodden, shaking my head as if I’m despairing. I catch myself tapping my fingers on my leg as we walk and have to force myself to stop. So many things can go wrong. My palms are growing sweaty as empty cells pass by.

“Quit dawdling!” Brock shouts, shoving me with the barrel of his shotgun. Stumbling forward a few steps, I have to catch myself against a wall before I can continue walking again down the wide hallway.

Part of me wants to turn and yell at the paladin for his behavior but I resist, only letting a grunt escape my lips as I pick up my pace.

So many things can go wrong, I remind myself. Stick to the plan.

My heart is thumping so loud in my chest; I’m surprised that Brock doesn’t chew me out for that. By the time we exit through a new set of large metal doors—not as large as the wooden ones outside the audience hall, but still bigger than normal—I’m a nervous wreck. Any moment now, I’m certain that Brock will know that I have something planned and shoot me between the shoulder blades. I know his finger is just itching to fire.

What if the plan doesn't work? Maybe the prophecy is wrong, or about someone else? Perhaps my life, and Brooke's, ends here.

“How was this one?” someone asks my guard while I attempt to get my eyes accustomed to the sudden sunlight.

“I’m surprised it hasn’t pissed itself, it’s been so scared,” Brock laughs, and it takes some serious effort not to laugh with him. He thinks I’m afraid of the execution! “Move it!” he tells me again with another harsh shove.

My eyes have adjusted enough to see that we’re in a large courtyard. A walkway is open before me, lined by men of every size and description. Men in business suits stand next to fully armored knights, which are chatting with men dressed in everyday clothes. I realize that the Paladonic Knights have infiltrated every aspect of society. I even see a man in rags that looks like he might be homeless. No wonder they were able to get Miranda out of jail. There are probably a number of judges and politicians here as well.

I can hear the pathway close behind us as we walk towards a metal pavilion in the middle of the courtyard. Brooke is already there, her red curls sitting lank on her head in the sunlight. She’s been strapped to a makeshift carry, keeping her upright. Shouldn’t she be healed up after last night, like I am? Our plan doesn’t call for her to be healthy, but looking into her green eyes, I’m worried that she’s still suffering.

Someone jeers as I slowly climb the steps. I can sense Brooke’s hopeful gaze on me. More jeers follow, but my eyes are locked on a very large man, his hairy chest bare to the sky. A black hood covers his face, and a long shiny sword is in his hands. I have little doubt that the blade is made of silver. As far as I know, I have no aversions to silver, but a sharp blade is still a sharp blade. Another much smaller man is leaning over the weapon, muttering something and pouring water along its length. I can sense an aura of power around him, and I’m surprised to recognize Emmet.

Two loud thumps break through the sound of the crowd drawing my attention up to see the Grand Meister on a platform leaning out over the crowd, up on one wall. The sight of the rest of my friends with him is comforting, despite their worried looks. Unfortunately, my sword isn’t with them. How am I going to find it?

Neither is Miranda.

“Lyden and Brooke,” the Grand Meister intones, and his voice carries across the open space with ease, “you have been found guilty of entering this world that humans rule by right. Of creating havoc and chaos, and of causing the deaths of numerous true humans.” He pauses for dramatic effect before asking, “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

I open my mouth, and try to gargle angrily, not an easy thing to do, before shutting my mouth. I have to keep up the ruse about my tongue.

Brooke tosses her head defiantly before responding. “You call yourselves human, yet act like animals. Those deaths were not our fault, and we’ve done nothing to be condemned like this, without any true trial. You’re all a bunch of bigoted fools, killing us only because of what we are. Racists of the worst kind—“ Brock steps forward, cutting her off with a sound slap to the face.

This is my cue.

I don’t have to feign anger as I roar, stepping forward, and throwing the man off the platform with a little too much zeal as he flies ten feet and crashes into a group of knights in armor. Emmet tries to grab hold of me as I grip the ropes holding Brooke up and snap them with ease. Finally, I’m able to let my strength show after being in the Mens Mundi for so long with everyone else. I shake the healer free of me as Brooke takes a step away on perfectly healthy legs.

“I thought I’d never get them to interrupt me,” she says, dazzling her beautiful smile at me. I hadn’t liked this part of the plan, but understood its necessity. First impressions of the event would look like I’d gone crazy at her being attacked, and our other companions should remain fairly safe for a bit, but the next step in our plan is the trickiest. We need to act fast.

Hugging the mermaid to me, I concentrate on the form I want, and hope this works. Jewkes and Shemhazau had been pretty sure last night, stating that since I could pull out just my wings, I should be able to partially change into a dragon in other ways.