Incubus Bonded

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Incubus Bonded Page 4

by A. H. Lee


  “Looks like faery magic to me,” said Loudain. “Probably old. I would guess it’s been hunting you for a while. It couldn’t get onto the Shrouded Isle, so it’s been waiting for you to poke your nose out.”

  Azrael grunted. He said a word. Like most of his spells, Jessica couldn’t understand it or even remember it the instant after he’d spoken. The shadow creature flickered. Its clawed arm twitched. Loudain took a swift step back, but Azrael only waved his hand as though to say, I expected that.

  Mal came forward, looking hopeful. “Can I eat it?”

  “I think so,” murmured Azrael. “Let me see if I can give it a better flavor…” Jessica couldn’t tell if he was joking. He took out a vial of something clear and viscous. It smelled wonderful when he removed the cork—like gardenias and summer and clean, bright rooms under airy domes. Jessica was immediately reminded of the Shrouded Isle. She’d missed Azrael before, but she hadn’t felt homesick for his island until now.

  The liquid fell from the vial like honey in long, sticky ropes. As it touched the monster, it sizzled into blue flame, erasing tracks through the creature all the way to the floor.

  “You’re burning it up,” complained Mal.

  “Only the faery bits,” said Azrael. Blue light spread through the monster as it dissolved.

  Jessica glanced up at Lord Loudain, who was shaking his head. “You’re going to let him incorporate faery magic?”

  “It won’t be faery magic when I’m done with it.”

  The monster was just a mound of blue light now. Its eyes had disappeared and its clawed hand had melted into blue droplets. The rest of it followed, sizzling. It did not spread across the floor like water, but sat in discreet, metallic shapes like mercury. Slowly, the blue light faded, and the liquid took on an amber hue.

  Azrael scooped up a drop of the substance and rolled it around in his palm. He held it out to Loudain. “Ambrosia?”

  Loudain hesitated, then extended his hand. Azrael tipped the droplet into it. Loudain muttered a few words that curled in the air like smoke. He stared into his palm. “Gods. It will be a terrible waste if the Council executes you.”

  Mal was looking at Azrael. “It is safe?”

  “All yours,” said Azrael.

  Mal lapped hesitantly at the amber drops. He was apparently pleased with the flavor, because he made a purring growl of pleasure and began aggressively slurping up the magic.

  Well, he’ll be less grumpy now, thought Jessica.

  Azrael straightened. “That’s sorted.” He glanced at Loudain. “So you tracked me halfway across the kingdoms to tell me I should attend my trial? What makes you think this Council will be any more effectual than the last?”

  “They executed Bartholomew and Zersic.”

  “Bartholomew was a madman living in a cave and Lady Zersic had a lot of dangerous pets.”

  “Many people would say the same about you.”

  “That I’m a madman in a cave?”

  “No, the second thing.” Loudain’s voice dropped to a near-whisper as he looked at Mal. “An unbound astral demon. Azrael, have you lost your mind?”

  Chapter 8

  Jessica

  “He’s not,” said Azrael.

  Mal looked just as surprised as Loudain.

  “He’s not unbound? You may fool mundanes with this sort of thing, but please do not insult my—”

  “Not an astral demon,” interrupted Azrael.

  Loudain practically sneered. “You expect me to believe that? After seeing the kind of power you draw from that thing?”

  “Look at him,” snapped Azrael. Mal seemed thoroughly confused.

  “Azrael…” began Loudain, his voice pleading. “I am on your side—”

  “Look—at—him!”

  Loudain drew a deep breath. He turned his attention to Mal, who met his eyes with deep suspicion. There was a moment’s pause and Jessica saw Loudain’s eyes go a little unfocused. She knew what he was doing—studying Mal’s aura. She still couldn’t see auras herself, although she could learn things about people through magic if she had their sexual attention.

  Loudain’s study of Mal’s aura seemed to go on and on. Mal was bristling all over when the wizard finally blinked and looked away. “I admit that his aura is…unusual. For an astral demon.”

  “Unusual,” scoffed Azrael. “Clouded as hell, you mean.”

  Loudain looked baffled. “Why?”

  “Because he’s human.”

  It was Loudain’s turn to scoff. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind. I just saw him change shape, Azrael. Perhaps you could try to pass him off as an earth-born entity, but—”

  Azrael took a swift step forward so that he was almost nose-to-nose with Loudain. “You people,” he spat, “believe any creature with a drop of inhuman blood is a monster. Well, I don’t. I believe anything with a trace of humanity is human. You’ve had reason to thank me for it in the past.”

  Loudain’s gaze dropped.

  Tod was bitten by a werewolf as a child, remembered Jessica, and his family brought him to Azrael when their own local law enforcement would have killed him.

  “Yes, my lord.” The respect was back in Loudain’s voice, and he looked stricken. “I am fully conscious of the fact.”

  “Good,” snapped Azrael. “You can tell the Council. Do you require an explanation regarding any of my other personal business before leaving my room, to which you were not invited?”

  “There are a few more things I would like to talk about. Would you consider letting me take you to dinner?”

  “I’m afraid my social calendar is full. Anything else?”

  Loudain spoke patiently. “Would you allow me to speak to you alone for a moment?”

  Azrael looked at him for a long moment. At last, he said, “Mal and Jessica, please wait in the hall.”

  Mal looked like he wanted to argue.

  Azrael spoke first. “Mal will need new clothes if we’re going anywhere other than a pub for dinner. Here.” To Jessica’s surprise, he thrust a wad of bills into her hand. “Meet me in an hour at The Electric Octagon. Do you know where it is?”

  Jessica nodded. It was a trendy place perhaps a mile further into the heart of town. There were plenty of clothing shops between here and there. Mal could make himself something simple from his own essence, but Azrael was right; he needed better clothes if they were going to a real restaurant.

  Mal hesitated at the door and glanced back. “Boss?”

  Azrael did not look at him. “An hour. Go.”

  Chapter 9

  Azrael

  Azrael had known from the moment he saw Loudain that he had some explaining to do. Azrael hated explaining.

  Loudain folded his hands behind his back and paced over to the window. It gave a lovely view of the inn’s back pasture and a few horses grazing. Azrael knew that, but he refused to follow Loudain around the room. I’m not your son or your grandson, and if you call me kid one more time—

  “How did you do it?” Loudain’s voice was soft, almost reverent.

  “How did I do what?” Azrael knew he sounded defensive and he tried to modulate his tone.

  Loudain spoke with maddening gentleness. “That demon. The one you call Mal. How did you make him human? Or a little bit human.”

  “So now you believe me?”

  “Well, I can see that he’s not bound. If he’s an astral demon whom you summoned, the fact that he hasn’t killed you is remarkable. He’s too powerful to be anything but an astral demon, and his magical signature points to you as his summoner. His aura is thoroughly clouded with human emotions. I’ll admit, I’m baffled.”

  When Azrael said nothing, Loudain turned from the window and spread his hands. “Azrael, I know you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m asking as a friend who wants to see you succeed. I want to see you honored and respected in the magical community. I want to see you thriving!”

  Azrael forced himself to relax and walk over to the window. “I will ne
ver be respected in the magical community. I don’t care what they think of me.”

  “You’re wrong,” said Loudain. “Give them a chance.”

  Azrael did not want to talk about himself. Suddenly, Mal seemed like an excellent topic of conversation. “The longer you keep an astral demon, the more human they become. Everybody knows this.”

  “They learn to mimic human emotions,” said Loudain carefully.

  “No. I mean, yes, at first. But over time, they soak up actual humanity. I know you won’t believe me, but it’s in the textbooks. Horatio, Ozius, Mandiford…”

  “That’s purely theoretical. No one has ever demonstrated it.”

  “You just saw a demonstration.”

  Loudain shook his head. “Remarkable. If you really have tamed an astral demon, made him safe around other people and his summoner, you need to write about it. You need to write a textbook.”

  Azrael was pleasantly surprised. “Well, I did keep notes. I’ve started to write them up several times, but it seemed pointless. Who would ever read them?”

  “Well, mostly people you have avoided and alienated,” said Loudain with a twinkle, “but it doesn’t have to be that way. You’re an academic. You’ve gone beyond the textbooks you just cited. Have you ever considered opening a school on the Shrouded Isle?”

  Azrael turned to stare at him. “The magical community is putting me on trial for dark magic, and you think they would send me their children?”

  Loudain harrumphed. “You antagonize them, Azrael. You’ve always made it clear that you are a friend to the mundanes and the monsters, not to other magicians. You won’t let us onto your island, so nobody knows what happens there, although rumors abound. You sneer at any magical authority. You cut us out of power at every opportunity.”

  Azrael could feel the anger rising now, and it was almost a relief. “I set out to bring peace to the Shattered Sea. The machinations of magicians are a hindrance to peace. You’re a quarrelsome lot.”

  “We, Azrael. You are one of us.”

  No, I’m not.

  “Do you deny that you use magic to keep peace?”

  Azrael bit down the words he wanted to say.

  Loudain shrugged. “I came here to warn you: go to your trial. Take Mal and let them examine him. If you are not there to defend yourself, I believe the repercussions will be dire. Lord Hastafel of Bethsaria is speaker for the Council now, and he is a powerful sorcerer. I doubt he could take you by himself, but the Council as a whole certainly could.”

  Azrael opened his mouth, but Loudain kept talking. “Maybe the entire magical world couldn’t take you on the Shrouded Isle. You’ve put down deep roots. But do you really want to be trapped there forever? Do you think you’ll be able to provide the kind of assistance you wish to kings and rulers if you can’t leave your own territory?”

  Azrael opened his mouth, but Loudain continued, “And I’ll tell you something else: if the Council sanctions you, every demon hunter in the kingdoms will be after Mal and Jessica and your other servants. I’m not sure what those two are doing way out here without you, but they won’t be doing it for long.”

  Azrael felt hunted. It was an old feeling—deeply familiar, but also one he thought he’d put behind him.

  “We are not all your enemies,” said Loudain, “and most of those who don’t like you would come around if you showed them a modicum of kindness or trust.”

  Azrael laughed. “I don’t trust anyone.”

  Loudain shook his head.

  Azrael shrugged. “It’s nothing personal.”

  “But can’t you see how that’s concerning? Even I have concerns about you. Sorcerers tend to be trouble. They tend to go mad or become inhuman because they spend all their time with inhuman creatures. It’s a lonely life. You seem isolated. As far as anyone knows, you don’t have a family or any close friends. Any human friends.”

  Azrael shot him a poisonous look, and Loudain held up his hands.

  “I know you consider people like Jessica and Mal human, but most magicians don’t understand that. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m not telling you to change. But I am saying that you need to help them understand. You need to show them.”

  Azrael felt suddenly tired. “Are you accusing me of not being human?”

  “Well, there are rumors. I personally don’t believe them, but I do wonder about your motivations. I don’t trust people motivated entirely by a lust for power.”

  Before Azrael could formulate a reply, Loudain continued, “And there are rumors about you, yes. You’re a vampire, a werewolf, the lake spirit herself inhabiting the body of a dead sorcerer. Or a demon. Probably Pride.”

  Azrael shook his head. “You’ve seen me do magic. You’ve seen my aura.”

  “Yes, but most of them haven’t. And most of them don’t really believe any of those rumors, anyway. What they do believe is that your astral demon—Mal—is in control of you, that you’ve kept him too long, that you’re in love with him, that he’s pulling your strings like a puppet.”

  Loudain dared to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Go to your trial, Azrael. Be friendly. I know you can; I’ve seen you do it. And consider starting a school. The magical community would come around, and you’d be good at it. Write that textbook. Teach. If you think magicians are so troublesome, take a role in shaping the next generation.”

  Chapter 10

  Mal

  Mal was brimming with magic when he stepped into the hall, crackling with the kind of energy that only an orgy or ambrosia could provide. Mab’s monster was delicious! And wouldn’t it make her howl with rage to know I ate it?

  He couldn’t savor that thought at the moment, however, because Azrael was alone with a wizard. Could he still draw magic from the collar if I was halfway across town? Mal didn’t think so. They were too far from the Shattered Sea.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said to Jessica the moment the door closed. “I’m not leaving him here with another magician. He doesn’t like them, and they hate him.”

  “He said—” began Jessica.

  “I don’t care what he said! I’m not bound! That means I don’t have to do what he said!”

  Jessica stroked his nose and made soothing noises. “Alright, we’ll stay here. Just…calm down. You look like someone put your tail in an electrical socket.”

  Mal grunted. He stretched out across the door. He could hear voices on the other side. If he really concentrated, he could catch words.

  “Are you sure you’re not just trying to eavesdrop?” asked Jessica as she sank down against the wall near his head.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I really don’t think Loudain will hurt Azrael, Mal. He’s Tod’s grandfather.”

  “He’s still a wizard.”

  “So?”

  Mal shook his ears. He wished she’d stop talking so that he could listen. Loudain is good at mirror magic. As good as Mab? Maybe he’s the one who made the monster. And then killed it so we’d think he was friendly.

  Jessica broke into his thoughts again. “Why doesn’t Azrael get along with other magicians?”

  Might Loudain drag Azrael through the mirror? Fuck. I need to be in there.

  “Mal…”

  “I don’t know! He’s just never gotten along with them! Please, don’t talk to me right now.”

  She didn’t say anything else, just stroked his head and ears. After a while, Mal licked her fingertips by way of apology. Jessica kissed his nose and he knew she wasn’t angry. She didn’t try to talk to him, though, as the murmur of voices went on and on behind the door. Loudain and Azrael seemed to have moved to the far side of the room, and Mal could catch very little of what they were saying. He didn’t hear anything that sounded like a battle. Sometimes magical duels were silent, though.

  At last footsteps came towards the door. Mal would know Azrael’s stride anywhere, and this wasn’t it. Mal felt someone trying to open the door and stood up. He glared into the startled, bearded fac
e of Lord Loudain. “You’d better not have hurt him.”

  Chapter 11

  Jessica

  Jessica thought, for one heart-stopping moment, that Mal was going to take a chunk out of Tod’s grandfather. Then Azrael’s annoyed face peered around Loudain. “Mal, what are you still doing here? Please allow Lord Loudain to go home with all of his limbs.”

  Mal stepped grudgingly out of the way. Loudain moved through the door, watching Mal with an expression of mixed anxiety and fascination. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then Azrael spoke behind him. “Well, if you needed more proof that he’s not bound, there you have it. Mal and Jessica, what part of, ‘Go buy clothes and meet me later’ did you not understand?”

  Jessica spoke up before Mal could say something else disparaging to Loudain. “We might have, my lord, but the money you gave me is actually for the neighboring Province.”

  Azrael passed a hand over his face. “I hate traveling.”

  “Quite,” said Loudain, still looking at Mal. Jessica wished she knew what he was thinking. “Unfortunately, you’ll have a bit of travel to do if you follow my advice. I sincerely hope to see you in the near future, Lord Azrael. Good evening to you.”

  When he was gone, Azrael tilted his head back and massaged his shoulders with one hand. To Mal, he said, “How much of that did you overhear?”

  “He wants you to go to the trial. He’s threatening you?”

  “Not exactly.” Azrael screwed up his face. “Sort of.” He reached out to Jessica, still sitting against the wall, and gave her a hand up. “Let’s just go to a pub. Although I’m sure Lucy will be disappointed and overdressed.”

  “Lucy?” said Mal, instantly disdainful. “Why is she coming?”

  “Because I need to fill her in. And because I think she’d like to meet my favorite succubus.”

  Jessica laughed. “I’m your favorite?”

  “Favorite and only. I can’t believe I gave you the wrong money. Here, this should make up for it.” He handed her a book, bound in blue leather. “Oh!” Jessica let out a squeal before she could stop herself. “This is the new one! By the same author as Skyfire.” She started to open it and squealed again. “It’s signed!”

 

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