by Maribel Fox
Instead, it is like walking the streets of western city. Clean and cared for. No bread lines here.
Demons though. Plenty of those.
Devils too. Everywhere. None of them seem interested in me, but I try not to draw attention. Try to stay in the shadows, using new skills I’ve gotten from the dragon.
No matter where I look in this city, there are signs of wealth. People flaunting it. Disgusting.
Marble monuments, dipped in gold. Sprawling estates with dozens of servants.
It’s the kind of thing that leads to revolution.
Or perhaps not. Hell is not Russia. Despite the great wealth, I have seen no signs of the great poverty I’d expect to come with it.
How far are you? Ocho asks through our mental connection, days after I have arrived.
How should I know? I growl back. Raj didn’t give me a map. What good would it have done when I don’t know where the mudak is being held captive? I know I am getting closer to him, but this place is a maze, and staying unseen has been priority.
If I am caught, no one is coming to save us.
The adder stone has proven useful here, where there are doors hidden in what looks like solid rock, and portals lurking in doorways.
Tracking him through Hell works up a steady appetite, and even though I want to keep going, keep pushing, I have to stop for a meal. The curse is making me weaker by the minute, and despite how close I can feel I am, I fear I won’t make it to him in time.
This time, he’s really outdone himself.
There seems to be no real day or night in this place, but parts of the city are stuck in time. One area is warm and golden like dusk, another cloaked in the full cover of dark. It’s in the latter areas that it seems the shadier of Hell’s inhabitants conduct their business.
Finding myself a secluded nook, surrounded by boulders, I sit to go through the pack Raj sent me off with. I expected meager offerings of stale bread, hard cheese, dried meat — typical field rations — but instead, I have a feast fit for the Tsar. It’s much more sophisticated than I’ve seen from a pack lunch, but I appreciate how good it looks right now.
Dude, you’ve gotta meet this chica in the cell next to me, Ocho says, interrupting my quiet meal.
I do not.
You want to though, trust me. She’s a sexy succubus dragon… Think she might be why I—
This is not social call, mudak. It is rescue.
Yeah, yeah, I know, but—
Nyet, I growl, cutting him off, turning my attention back to my sandwich. I will never appreciate the lack of privacy in my own head.
The food leaves me feeling somewhat stronger, and the silence from Ocho puts me in a better mood. I’m still weak, though, and I know he must be feeling it too. Getting closer to him won’t make the curse better until I’m within a couple hundred meters or so. Until then, we keep dying. Slowly. Painfully. Life slipping away.
Attractive as death sounds to me, it is not only me I have to think about.
Suka blyad, one of these days I swear I am going to give up on him and let him die. He deserves it.
I pack up the lunch and slip back into the shadows of the streets, keeping close to the rock wall where I can, looking through the adder stone every so often for hidden passages. There are shops and stalls, carts and hawkers all over up and down the street, not in concentration, but spread around so there’s no getting away from them all.
Suddenly, I am hot. My skin is burning, my heart racing. I feel a rush of blood, a flood of sensation flowing through me, and then I realize — I’m horny as fuck.
What?
That alone is not strange, do not misunderstand. I like sex. I like sex a lot — though it is not main concern for me like some others, I will not say no to the opportunity provided the woman is not crazy — but this sudden, overwhelming desire is unusual. Sexual need builds up inside me, intensity growing, making my legs wobble, knees shaking.
“You look like you could use some company,” an attractive demoness says, lips curved into an alluring smile as she beckons me forward, her body proudly on display.
My cock is throbbing, every drop of blood I have pulsing in my balls rather than forming thoughts in my brain. My ears are ringing, and I try to look away from her scintillating curves, the welcoming v between her legs that draws my eyes.
The fuck is happening to me?
I growl and pull away from the demoness, suddenly seeing attractive, willing women everywhere, calling me, enticing me, trying to distract me.
Ocho, I realize.
This horniness is not even mine. His talk of ‘sexy succubus lady’ should have warned me. Here I am, going through Hell to save him, and he is fucking some succubus whore. Typical.
My admonishment doesn’t get through to him, or he completely ignores me, because it’s getting worse. This feeling is growing inside me, building bigger and bigger, making me dizzy, making the world swim in front of my eyes. I’m panting, staggering forward, trying to push past it, to ignore it.
Ohuet, holy shit. I throw my hand out at the last minute, catching myself as my knees give out and I collapse forward.
The wall’s the only thing supporting me, strength draining from my body like water through a hole in a bucket. It’s gone in a flash, and I sink down to the ground, trying to catch my breath.
I can barely pick my head up now, every muscle filled with lead.
I don’t know what happened, but I know if I don’t get to him soon, we’re both going to be done for.
And even though this new hit has made me weaker than before, there’s no time to waste. No chance for recovery. I have to pick up the pace.
In the cover of shadows, I strip down and stuff my clothes into the canvas sack so helpfully provided. Then I take a deep breath. Shifting to wolf form takes a lot of energy, and I won’t be able to shift back if I don’t get to Ocho first. This is my last hope.
Our last hope.
Mudak.
First, my skin itches as new hair grows, sprouting from my arms and legs, then from everywhere on my body. My bones bend and reform, shaping my skeleton into something new.
Then I’m on all fours, shaking out my fur, the form almost feeling more natural to me at this point than being human. I pick up the pack with my teeth, and take off on all fours, determined not to let me — or the silly smoke pup — die today.
13
Ocho
Daaaaamn, I feel shitty. Really shitty.
My own fault, of course, but shit. I can’t remember the last time I felt this bad. Maybe when we were first testing the bounds of the curse?
Playing with my succubus neighbor was fun and all — and a hell of a way to go out if this is it — but I’m starting to think it might not have been the best choice when I’m already knocking at death’s door. Between the collar dulling my powers and the curse trying to kill me, giving up most of my life force to the pretty lady might be called reckless by some.
But hey, what’s life if you’re not living it, right?
The way I’m feeling now, I might not be living it much longer. My chances for survival aren’t looking so good. I do feel bad for worrying her, though. I think I might’ve killed her buzz.
It’s not so bad, though. With the wall between us, she can’t see me. That means I can’t scare her with my creepy looks, and I won’t have to try to pretend I don’t see her barely-contained fear when she looks at me.
“Ay, I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t worry about me querida… I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Name’s Ocho.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, then sighs. “Lili.”
“How long you been in here Lili?” Maybe if I get her talking about herself, she’ll forget that she’s annoyed with me.
“Oh… About a century or so?”
“A maldito century?! What have they been doing to you all this time?”
I realize what a stupid question it is the moment I ask it. There’s no way that’s going to be a pl
easant conversation. Way to distract her, Ocho.
I’m about to tell her to forget about it, that she doesn’t need to tell me anything, when she sighs again.
“About what you’d expect.”
I swear under my breath, a solid, painful weight settling on my chest, pressing down, squeezing the air out of my lungs. This beautiful, amazing, sensual woman, caged up and mistreated all this time? I can’t stand the thought of it. I want to get her out of this. I want to save her.
But I’m not strong enough. I’m dying, and I don’t think I’m even going to be able to save my wolf.
Which reminds me… I should probably give him the heads up… That we’re on our last leg, that we’re both about to die untimely deaths.
I open our mental link, and immediately Dmitry is cursing up a storm at me, berating me for the sex — I should’ve realized he’d be privy to that, wasn’t exactly thinking with the head on my shoulders — and I let him grumble on for a bit before I cut in.
Hope you got it all out of your system, buddy. I think I’m about done for.
Nyet, you are not ‘done for.’ I am close. Do not give up now.
I know you’re trying, I say, mentally sighing. He’s a good guy. Gruff and rough around the edges, but I’m gonna miss him. Fuck this curse, man.
Da, Dima agrees. I have fought this curse too long for you to think you can die now, hold on.
I’m smiling despite myself. Guy’s got a big squishy soft heart no matter how much he tries to deny it.
I’ll try, man. You gotta hurry, though… I almost don’t say it, but after everything we’ve been through together, after five decades of fighting, squabbling, dragging each other across the world in search of a fix for our curse, not saying it seems wrong.
Thanks, I mutter.
What was that?
You heard me, I grumble back, the mental link shutting between us once more.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were dying?” Lili asks finally breaking her silence.
I sigh. “Does it matter?”
“Uh… Yeah,” she says, practically scoffing at me. I chuckle softly. I’ve been ‘dying’ more or less for half a century. She doesn’t know that, though. I haven’t told her all of that nonsense.
I feel like maybe I should. She’s already broken past my walls more than anyone else has in centuries — other than Dima, of course, but he’s not interested in fucking me; I asked. Shame.
“Look, I’ve got a friend coming for me. I’m not sure I’m going to make it till he gets here, but we’re going to try to get you out of here if we can.”
“There’s no way,” she argues. “Who is this friend of yours?”
“A stubborn asshole that doesn’t know how to lose. I wouldn’t underestimate him, querida.”
“Why would you help me get out?” she asks, skeptical as always. Has anyone ever done anything nice for this girl?
“Is that a real question? Because I’m not a fucking monster, Lili.”
She doesn’t say anything, and after a long stretch of silence, I sigh. I want her to know we’ve got her back, but I don’t want to give her false hope, either.
“There’s something else you should know,” I say, swallowing past the lump in my throat. All these years the prospect never bothered me as much as it does now.
What if I never get to see her?
“If I don’t make it… if I die, Dmitry dies too. Our fates are tied. I just… I wanted to let you know. To warn you. So you don’t think he’s still coming when I’ve gone off to tierra de los muertos.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s a long story… Some bruja loca cursed us to be stuck together about fifty years ago. We’ve been looking for a way to undo it ever since. Any time we’re separated for any amount of time, this starts happening, a slow, languishing death. Makes it hard to get back to each other.”
“Sounds like a pain in the ass,” Lili says sympathetically.
I chuckle. “I guess, but he is currently running through Hell to try to save me.” To save himself, a nasty little voice says in the back of my head. He doesn’t care about you, he just doesn’t want to die.
Inwardly, I scowl at the voice. I don’t believe it. I don’t think it’s right. Dima’s always had a death wish, and the curse that ties our fates together has kept him from indulging in it too much.
Not this time, the voice says. He’s going to let you die.
Lili’s talking to me, and I manage a few weak answers, but my strength is slipping, the world’s getting colder, darker. Her voice is musical and lilting, enough to entrance me into a fitful kind of half-sleep.
In my dreams I see Dima as a dark gray wolf — he’s gotten so much darker, more shadowy in the years we’ve been together, some of my powers rubbing off on him with the persistent psychic link, I guess — and he’s running through fire, a steely look in his eyes, a canvas bag dangling from his mouth. It’s a silly image of him, funny the things your subconscious can come up with when you’re near death.
In my dreams, he’s taking down Demons, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake as he goes storming through the bowels of Hell to get nearer to me. It’s ridiculous, of course. There’s no way he’s got the strength to pull off that kind of stuff with how close to death I am. We’ll be lucky if he’s conscious at all now.
Even in my dreams I’m losing awareness, the final darkness coming in, claiming me after a lifetime of me fighting against it.
The shadows and I never did get along.
“Li—” I rasp, wanting to say my last goodbyes before it’s too late. But trying to form words, trying to make a sound, I think it might already be too late.
With a jolt, I sit upright, gasping as feeling starts rushing back into my limbs all at once. It’s a flood of feeling, my body on fire from the inside like the worst case of pins and needles, all over my body, all the way to my toes, to the tips of my fingers, my limbs twitching from it.
It’s an agonizing minute or two, fighting through it, gritting my teeth while my skeleton vibrates. I take a minute to figure it out, to digest it and put it together and realize what this means.
A few minutes later, I’m grinning like a fool when I hear Dima’s grumpy growl in my head.
All right, mudak, I’m here. How do I get in?
You want to look for someone wearing a silver Seal of Solomon necklace on a long chain, Lili says, butting into our psychic conversation. Subdue them, and force them to let you in with it. The keys are coded to only allow the wearer to use it, so you can’t just steal it and kill the guy.
For a long, pregnant moment, we’re silent. I know my wolfie though, and I know what he’s thinking without him saying anything. We’re both thinking what the fuck?
How the hell did she just shove her way into our conversation like that?
I do not trust this woman, Dmitry says, gruff as usual, the word woman sounding more like a swear than an innocent word.
Hey, Lili protests, sounding more amused than offended.
I don’t care if you trust her. We’re getting her out. Can you get the necklace and the guy?
Da, da, da, I’ll get your jewelry and your man, Dima grumbles, making his annoyance clear even though he’s too practical to keep arguing about it right now.
It’s a key, smartass.
Da, your key. Whatever.
You sure you got it?
I got it! he growls, slamming the door on our conversation with a huff.
I lay back with a big grin. Dima’s mad at me now, yeah, but that’s par for the course. At least now, he’s on his way, I don’t feel like death, and I might even get a chance to see Lili before this is all said and done.
Not a bad deal after all.
14
Maal
Everything about this is… interesting.
That’s the word for it.
Of course, that’s what I asked for. I always wanted an interesting life and here it fucking is.
A succubus.
> It’s not just that she’s a succubus, though. There’s something familiar about her. I feel like I should know her. I should recognize her. And there’s a part of me that refuses to stop thinking about her. Completely refuses.
After everything that happened this morning, I’ve mostly been wandering around in a daze, trying to process it all. Trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with me, because I feel like my whole world’s been turned upside down somehow.
No one said anything to me as I left the prison earlier. I got some sympathetic looks, but no one stopped me from leaving. I was warned that I would feel weak and drained after being with Lili. Her previous offerings apparently were given the day off after their first time, and I was encouraged to call in if I needed to.
But there’s no way I can stay away.
I’ve done it for as long as I can, but now that I’ve calmed down a bit, now that my blood’s not rushing through my veins and my mind’s not running a thousand miles a minute, I want…
I don’t know what I want. But I need to see her again. I have to.
Even as I think that, I realize how foolish it is. Lili’s a succubus and men are naturally drawn to her.
It feels like more than that, though.
And yeah, I realize that most guys probably say that too, but I feel like I know her. It’s not being drawn to a stranger, it’s familiarity pulling me to her. Making me crave her again. I want to touch her. I want to kiss her, to taste her, to find out everything there is to know about her and get her out of this horrible place.
That seems like a surefire way to get myself fired — or killed. Not sure which would be worse given my parents’ likely reactions. What’s the harm in just going to see her again, though?
It’s late enough that the guards who would normally exchange nods with me on my way in aren’t here. Actually, the whole place seems eerily dead, but then I remember that this is twelve hours after my normal shift, and I don’t know what staffing numbers are like at this time.
