Ashburn_A [Sub] Urban Fantasy Novel

by Michael W. Layne

  I wasn’t sure why, but my gut told me, in more ways than one, to stay at the house instead of continuing to follow Oizys.

  It was still light outside, so I waited for the HOA demon to leave, then went back to my car and turned on the radio, preparing to wait until nightfall before checking out the house.

  Finding nothing worth listening to on the radio, I played with the buttons on the car’s control panel. When I hit the Media button, a menu of artists popped up on the screen in the dashboard. John had been an asshole, but his taste in music wasn’t too bad.

  I had tons of choices, and as I scrolled through the list of artists, I found it difficult to decide on just one. Finally, I settled on some classic rock and tapped my foot as a driving beat from one of the most incredible rock drummers of all time filled the car like the wings of a Valkyrie’s horse flapping its way to Valhalla.

  Just as I was getting into the song and belting out my best falsetto singing voice, a box truck pulled into the pipe stem and parked in front of the woman’s house.

  Three men ambled out of the vehicle. One made his way to the front door and knocked, and the other two opened the back of the truck. Within minutes, all three of the men were moving large boxes of all different sizes and shapes into the house.

  After ten minutes of unloading the boxes, the workers went inside and didn’t come out for almost an hour.

  Twilight was setting in by the time the truck drove away. After another thirty minutes, it was dark enough that I felt comfortable getting closer to get a better look at what was going on.

  I felt exposed, expecting that someone would see me, but I tried to remember who I was now. John wouldn’t have cared about someone noticing him. In fact, he probably would have knocked down the door and taken a look at whatever he wanted to see without even asking.

  But I wasn’t John, as I told myself at least once an hour. Instead, I walked slowly to the front of the house and checked over both shoulders—something criminals always seemed to do, but which never seemed to work. I ducked into the space between the bushes and the side of the house and tried getting a quick look inside, but the window blinds were closed. I crouched down and waited for it to get a little darker, then I vaulted their fence and lay down on their lawn, face-down.

  Just like my own McMansion, the place had two small, ground-level windows that looked into the basement. There was light shining from both of them as I shimmied closer to take a look.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected to find, but what I saw was closer to a modern-day dungeon than a suburban basement. Two poles had been installed in the middle of the floor and connected to the ceiling. I also saw a machine that looked like a rack, a couple of wooden stocks, iron manacles attached to chains that had been bolted to the walls, and a table filled with whips and floggers.

  In the midst of everything, both the woman who’d spoken with Oizys and the woman’s husband folded up empty boxes and stacked them away neatly into a closet.

  I turned from the window and sat with my back against the side of the house. If a human husband and wife wanted to turn their basement into a sex dungeon, that was their choice. After all, we lived in America, where people were still free to do shit like that if they wanted.

  But had it been a coincidence that Oizys showed up right before the dungeon equipment was delivered?

  Unlikely.

  That’s when a large piece of the puzzle fell into place. I’d been spending a lot of time trying to figure out what had happened to Laura Henders and worrying about Marie trying to leave town. But what if I should have been watching Oizys instead? What if she were the one really trying to escape?

  Since Oizys harvested her power from the suffering of others, torturing homeowners in a dungeon seemed like something that would make her absolutely giddy. If she could gather enough power from their collective pain, it could also make her strong enough to break through Ahriman’s magical shield and free herself.

  That would explain why Oizys had been so eager to have me think about and investigate everyone but her.

  I remembered back to when I’d asked Oizys if she wanted to leave Ashburn. With hindsight, her answer now seemed ridiculous, as she claimed to be content making the lives of Ashburn homeowners as miserable as possible.

  After another half an hour, I got up and walked back to the sidewalk and to the car. I thought about being more John-like and confronting the couple, demanding an explanation for why they were setting up a dungeon on a Saturday night in my town.

  Instead, I shook my head and settled into the car, waiting for the victims to arrive, but no one showed. After a while, the lights in the house went out, and I decided to go home.

  By the time I pulled into John’s garage, I was looking forward to seeing Shadow and Sybil. As expected, Shadow was waiting for me, his leash in his mouth and his tail wagging hard.

  I greeted him with genuine excitement and rubbed his head before letting him into the back yard.

  It wasn’t yet midnight, but when I was done with Shadow, I made my way upstairs, ready to crash. When I stepped into the bedroom, Sybil was there, sitting up, naked in bed with her arms crossed over her ample bosom.

  “Are you trying to go back on our deal?” she said. “We were supposed to find a way out of Ashburn together. But you and Shadow have been running around a lot without me.”

  “You’re never here,” I said. “I’ve checked lots of times, but you’re always out doing something I probably don’t even want to know about. And yes, you and I are going to get out of here, together—one day. But we can’t leave right now.”

  “Suddenly, you want to stay?” she said through her scowl.

  “I don’t want to stay,” I said. “But I need more time to figure out what to do about Ahriman. Don’t worry, I’m still taking you with me when I finally get out of Ashburn. A promise is a promise.”

  She grinned ever so slightly, then let her hands drop, revealing her ample breasts for a split second before she slid under the sheets.

  I took off my clothes and set my goggles on the nightstand, but hesitated before joining her. My body told me to hurry up and get into the bed, but my instinct for self-preservation was stronger.

  “Have you already eaten tonight?” I asked.

  She laughed, a light girlish giggle that sounded eerie coming from the lips of a fully-grown succubus.

  “I had a light snack before you came home,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’m saving my appetite for later.”

  And with that, Shadow slid under the bed to settle in for the night on the carpet, and I slid under the sheets to give my demon girlfriend a hug.

  The hug quickly turned into more than that, of course, and before I knew it, we were wrapped up in each other. As long as I kept the image of her demonic face out of my head, rolling around with her was pretty amazing. I could totally see how her kind were able to tempt men into their beds and then steadily suck the life force from their souls. And to be honest, as she kissed my neck, I imagined there were a lot worse ways that someone could die.

  An hour later, after our carnal passions had been fully satiated, we settled into a session of quiet pillow talk.

  “I think Oizys is the one trying to escape somehow,” I said. “The whole Voodoo priestess thing was just a distraction.”

  Sybil drew back and crinkled up her eyebrows, doubting me.

  So I told her about Blaire being dead and me following Oizys and seeing the dungeon being set up in the couple’s basement. Instead of getting on board with my theory, Sybil chuckled.

  “I’m no fan of Oizys,” she said, “but she loves it here. And she’s never even hinted at leaving in the past. Maybe that couple you saw likes a little pain with their pleasure, and Oizys just wanted to join in on the fun.”

  I lay back on the bed and took a deep breath, thinking.

  “You’re better than John was in the sack,” she said, touching my chest with her taloned forefinger. “I just wanted you to know.”

 
“I’m not sure what to say,” I said.

  She leaned in and kissed me again.

  “Don’t say anything,” she said as she got up and walked to the bathroom, her powerful body gleaming with each purposeful step.

  When she returned, she slipped back into bed and lay her head on my chest in a show of affection I hadn’t been expecting.

  “Not going out tonight?” I said.

  She kissed my chest gently, then looked into my eyes.

  “I’d like to stay with you for the rest of the night, if that’s okay. I never wanted to be here much when John was around, but you’re different.”

  “That sounds great,” I said. “But if you want to fool around again, I’m going to need a nap.”

  “I’ll be here when you wake up,” she said as she snuggled closer.

  As soon as I closed my eyes, I began to fall into the oblivion of sleep. My brain sorted through the events of the evening and lingered far too long on the image of Blaire missing most of his face. Just before I passed out, I replayed the details of my passionate evening with Sybil and of our discussion afterward. I was starting to like her, but there was something that didn’t connect about why she wasn’t feeding tonight—something she had mentioned that I couldn’t recall.

  “You said you were saving your appetite for later?” I said in a slurred voice as I held on to consciousness by a thread.

  She laughed as the darkness of sleep finally claimed me. I heard her response right before I passed out, like it was coming to me from the far end of a pitch-black tunnel.

  “I’m saving up my appetite for the party tomorrow night,” she said. “Food always tastes better when I’m really hungry.”

  Chapter 40

  I HAD FINISHED the album earlier that evening, and I hated every one of the new songs, but at least Ahriman was gone. Even so, I couldn’t sleep.

  At first, I’d felt light and free when he left, but my elation was short-lived. Soon after, the sickness crawled through my body, taking control of my internal systems again. It felt like I’d been slammed with an instant case of the flu, only a thousand times worse. The cancer was making up for being kept at bay with an unnatural vengeance.

  I leaned over the edge of the bed and coughed up blood—a lot of it—and I was sure I was about to die, despite Ahriman’s promises.

  I lay back on my studio’s hospital bed and struggled to take a full breath, but I only managed a shallow, raspy inhalation. And as I clung to life, a familiar dark presence appeared at the foot of my bed in the shape of a man with large, curled horns.

  “Our deal,” I managed to say.

  “I am keeping my end of our agreement,” Ahriman said. “The album will be released tomorrow, and when you wake up, as I promised, you will no longer be dying of cancer.”

  “Or of anything else,” I said, suddenly frantic at the idea that he was tricking me and planning my sudden death from another illness.

  He chuckled.

  “As I have said, you will not die of any human disease,” he said. “Now rest. Tomorrow is an important day for both of us.”

  I hated the way he seemed so happy while I was in such pain, but I resigned myself to sleep and comforted myself with thoughts of waking up cured and healthy, with a brand-new chance at life.

  As the room around me faded, Ahriman played the recording of Blood Blister, the first single from the new album—his tune about the end of the world.

  How appropriate, I thought, as its heavy-handed electronic drums kicked in.

  In a final moment of panic, I became terrified of falling asleep, fearing that giving in to my exhaustion would be the same as surrendering to death.

  I fought the blackness until the song’s chorus rang out.

  When the world ends

  With a wound like a whisper

  When the world ends

  Through the pain I will miss her

  When the world ends

  It will break like a blister.

  When the world ends

  All my blood will go with her

  And then, at last, the darkness washed over me, and I slept.

  Once unconscious, I had a vivid dream. Someone lifted my spirit from my body, and instead of letting it rise to the heavens or plunge straight down to Hell, they pulled it to the side. And with a brave cry, they dove into my body and took my place. Although for what reason, I had no idea.

  Chapter 41

  THE INSTANT I awoke, I turned to Sybil and blurted out a question my mind must have been working on while I was asleep.

  “What party are you going to tonight?”

  “Good morning to you too,” she said with a kiss. “I hope you got plenty of rest, because I’m feeling horny again. I’m not getting up this early for nothing, you know.”

  “Tell me about the party,” I said.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, but her face gave off plenty of micro-tells. She was embarrassed about something, which was something I didn’t expect from a succubus.

  “Hanging out with some friends?” I said. “A few demons getting together for tea and biscuits or maybe a good old-fashioned possession?”

  “What is wrong with you?” she said. “It’s just a human party with some local swingers celebrating the start of summer. The men are looking for something more extreme than what they can get at home. And the wives want to show off their toned asses and implants to men who appreciate them.”

  My eyebrows raised.

  “That’s why you didn’t eat last night? Because there’s going to be plenty of humans to snack on tonight?”

  She slapped me on the chest just hard enough that I couldn’t tell whether she was being playful or trying to remind me of how strong she was.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “There will be plenty of out-of-towners there tonight.”

  “Don’t you think Ahriman might notice if you eat someone?”

  “Darling, stop,” she said. “I only play with people who don’t live here. And I only pick single people or ones who won’t be missed…very much. Ahriman only cares about humans who live here. As long as I pace myself and don’t make too much of a mess, tourists are usually fair game. Remember Hillary? She didn’t live here, and Ahriman didn’t show up when I ate her heart, did he?”

  “John let you eat tourists?”

  “Sometimes he joined in and dined with me. It was the closest thing we ever had to a date night.”

  I inhaled deeply, trying to process what she was telling me.

  “I know what you think of me,” Sybil said. “I saw how you looked at my real face and how much I disgust you. I can read faces too. But I am what I am, and I have to eat human hearts—the more innocent, the better. If I don’t, I get weak, and being weak in Ashburn is dangerous, especially when you’re the enforcer’s girlfriend. Dating John didn’t make me very popular.”

  I looked away and shook my head. I didn’t want anything to happen to her. She didn’t deserve that. But I also didn’t want a bunch of innocent partygoers to lose their lives just because they didn’t live here.

  “I know John didn’t use to care, but if I see you trying to kill someone tonight, I’ll have to stop you.”

  She smiled.

  “Sorry, babe. But even if you could carry through with that threat, you’re not invited to the party. And it’s not just you. John never went to these either. Nobody wants to party with Ahriman’s enforcer watching over them. They want to relax and have fun.”

  “Who would know I work for Ahriman? I thought you said it was a human party.”

  “Mostly human.”

  “If supernaturals are going to be there, and they don’t want me to show, that must mean they’re going to break Ahriman’s laws.”

  She shrugged.

  “Technically, most of the supernaturals will only be breaking one of Ahriman’s laws.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “The one about hurting humans,” she said after a pause. “That’s why a lot of the swingers go t
o these parties in the first place—to hurt and to be hurt.”

  “Where’s the party being held, Sybil?”

  “I don’t know yet. It rotates from house to house. They email guests right before the party starts and put a white rock in front of the house that’s hosting, so it’s easy to find.”

  “The house with the dungeon in the basement had a big white boulder in front of it.”

  Sybil rubbed her hands together and grinned.

  “Oh, that’s great!” she said. “That means I won’t have to bring my own toys tonight. The parties where the hosts go all out and take the time to decorate and prepare are always the best ones.”

  “I’m glad to hear my first party’s going to be a good one,” I said.

  “I told you, you aren’t on the invite list,” she said, her face stern.

  I smiled and glanced at the ceiling before leveling my eyes on her.

  “My name is John Starling—enforcer to his demonic awesomeness, the great Ahriman,” I said with a sneer. “That means Ashburn is my town and I can go anywhere I please, including a party full of sexual deviants, if I so choose.”

  Sybil exhaled heavily.

  “I know you’re getting stronger,” she said. “Strong enough that I can’t stop you if you really want to go, but they’ll have guards there and defenses to keep the strays away—both human and supernatural. And tonight, that will include you.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I have a plan, and Oizys isn’t going to like it.”

  “You think Oizys is up to something?”

  “She gets her power from human suffering,” I said. “I think she’s going to use the equipment in that dungeon in ways your swinger friends aren’t prepared for—to do some real injury and harm to them, so she can get the hell out of Ashburn. I also think three people have died, or mostly died, to keep me distracted from what she’s really planning. And I have to stop her.”

  I tried to sound confident, but I had no idea how I was going to prevent Oizys from doing anything.