Incubus Honeymoon

by August Li

  No ebb and flow of power anymore, then. She’d come into her own, and come into it like a supernova.

  In the center, as if floating, was a little girl in a pale yellow dress, chestnut ringlets held back by a dainty gem-dotted band.

  I hurried to get around Dante and shield him from Ros’s eyes because I didn’t know if she’d cry out if she saw him. She did that and we’d be fucked. No, I had to keep her from seeing him until we could get her on her own. Slowly I guided him toward the back of the throng as Ros’s escort—an older black man so gorgeous he made my nipples tingle, wearing a suit that like as not cost as much as everybody else’s combined—took her hand and led her toward one of the tables where artful little desserts were arranged on three-tiered silver stands. He smiled gently, and as they passed, I noted his desires were kind: shortbread dipped in milk tea, corgis snuffling in front of a fire, the smell of the city after a summer rain. And he wanted to make Ros happy, to sit her on his lap and read from The Wind in the Willows, putting on different funny voices for each character.

  It wasn’t what I had expected.

  The light… well, it became bearable. I can’t rightly say it dimmed, but maybe I got used to it. I looked over my shoulder and caught Dante’s gaze. Then I canted my head toward the back of the room. We needed to talk, and I didn’t trust in Dante’s ability to go along with whatever story I fed Brandt. Better to just sneak off for a bit.

  Brandt had plenty of shiny things to distract him, and we made our way to a long hall that must’ve led to a food prep area, judging by the staff coming and going with carts and trays.

  I backed Dante against the wall and pinned him there with my larger body, my hands at his hips. He stiffened, and I leaned in and whispered into his ear. “Don’t get the wrong idea, mate. We need to talk, and I don’t want to be overheard—or disturbed.”

  Some of the tension dropped from his shoulders and spine. “Yeah. What’s the plan? Do you have one?”

  “I don’t know if you can call it a plan. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, love, none of this is my forte. Best I can come up with is you wait here, and I’ll go out there and find some way to lure your sister to this hall. There’s a kitchen at the end of it, and that likely means a door to the outside—servants’ entrance, for deliveries and shite. It’s simplistic, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  “No, simple is good,” Dante breathed against my face. “Less that can go wrong. But why you instead of me? Ros has seen you before too. She could give you away.”

  I moved my hand up to give his shoulder what I hoped was a reassuring pat. It was hard to maneuver around a bloke whose desires read as machine-gun fire and wet ash. “I just… I just think my chances might be better. More experience handling these pompous twats is all.”

  He let out a resigned breath. “Right. And I’m no good at being what people want. I only know how to be me.”

  I pulled back so I could see his face. “You’ve mastered the harder of the two, mate. Listen, I know this is hard for you, trusting people. But I’ll do this, Dante. I’ve got your back.”

  For what felt like forever, he stared up at me, eyes glistening and lips pressed thin. Finally he whispered, “I know.”

  With those two words, he broke something loose inside me, deep in my guts, and I wanted to kiss him so fucking bad—even though he didn’t desire me and I would get no benefit. But I wanted it just the same, and I didn’t want to stop wanting. Still, I stepped back from him and smoothed my hands down my jacket. “It’ll like as not take me a bit, if you want to try to scope out our escape route.”

  He nodded once. “Good idea.”

  “Yeah.” I adjusted my bow tie even though it didn’t matter how I really looked. People would see the projection of Brandt’s desires, and they’d see even that through the colored lens of their own. I didn’t need to prepare.

  But in my long life, I’d never needed to accomplish a goal, put myself out, or take any kind of a risk. I was lazy, I indulged, and I abandoned things when they stopped being fun or fruitful. I’d never imagined being guided by anything but my own whims or the pleasure of my partners. Now, goddammit, I’d made a promise, and I intended to keep it even if it meant bringing this whole place down.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THERE.

  Headlights coming around the bend in the road. The sounds of engines. Dozens of vehicles. That was Moirin and my army. Somehow, miraculously, they’d made it here ahead of the skinheads who had abducted my people and stolen my product. That gave us the advantage. I needed to speak with Moirin as soon as possible, tell her where I wanted everyone positioned. As I dug for the burner phone, I caught sight of the red dot connected to the tracking device on Dante’s gun.

  According to the red teardrop, he was right behind me, less than twenty feet away.

  Rapa tu mai!

  I closed my hand around the Sig Sauer, ready to use it. He might ruin everything. In dealing with him, I might lose the only advantage that would allow me or any of my people to leave this place alive.

  My only chance was to dispose of him as quickly as possible.

  I held the pistol and waited for the slightest shift in the shadows behind me, the faintest crunch of snow or leaves, all the while keeping one eye on the red teardrop that inched slowly closer.

  THERE.

  After hours of small talk and schmoozing, kissing arses, I managed to find Ros alone, picking at a tray of charcuterie not far from the hall where Dante waited. I wound my way through the crowd until I stood a few feet behind her.

  She put her little hands with their little french-manicured nails flat on the table’s white cloth and spoke without looking back at me. “I remember you. I remember your horns. You brought your cat Charlene to my house.”

  Had to admit, that caught me off guard for a moment, but I hurried to snap myself out of it. “That’s right, love. I’m a friend of your brother. He’s been very worried about you. Been looking everywhere trying to find you.”

  “Is he here? Dante?”

  “Yeah, he’s round the corner, waiting for me to take you to him.”

  “What if you’re lying?”

  It wasn’t what I’d expected her to say, that was for damn sure. I didn’t quite know how to respond. For reasons that are probably obvious, my powers don’t really work on kids, and the way she spoke, monotone and flat, without giving me the benefit of seeing her face— Well, I didn’t know what she could be thinking. All I could think to say was “I’m not.”

  “Mr. Mengiste, the man I was with, is very rich and very smart. He lives in London, but he said he met my mother in New York City. That she never told him she was pregnant, and when he found out, he looked everywhere to find me. He wants me to come live with him, and he says I’ll be happy there.”

  Bugger me, now that she mentioned it, I could see the resemblance, and it explained what I’d felt coming off the guy. “And is that what you want? To live with him in London?”

  “I-I don’t know. He’s a nice man. He said he only wants me to have a better life. I don’t like it when Mom is always sick, throwing up and sleeping all the time. And sometimes she gets mad for no reason and yells at me. Dante can’t always be there. He has to go to work. But… but I love Dante.” Her little hand shook as she brushed it over the iridescent fabric of her dress. “I love Dante, but being with my… my dad, I feel like a queen from a story.” She finally turned to look up at me, and her wide brown eyes were glistening with tears. “Is it selfish to like the books and the dresses, the big bathtub with flowers in the water?”

  I couldn’t answer with my heart jammed up in my throat.

  Turned out, I never got the chance.

  First thing I noticed was the lights outside the ballroom windows, and then the shift in people’s moods—relaxed and happy to curious, apprehensive.

  And then fucking scared when bullets hit those big windows and glass shot into the room, raining over everyone. People screamed. They backed away.
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  One of the bullets must’ve hit a wall sconce, because it flickered, followed by a shower of sparks and a burnt plastic smell. By then I could feel magic, feel the mages letting it build. It danced over my skin, and my hair stood on end. The noise from the gunshots echoed in my skull, and while I could see people’s mouths moving, see them pointing, giving and following orders, their voices were sludgy and slow, like a song played on melted vinyl.

  Another round of gunfire. People dropped to their knees and protected their heads with their arms. Ros was crying, though not hysterically; her eyes were wet and swollen, and her lips trembled, but she’d either learned or inherited some of her brother’s pragmatism. I scooped her small body up and hugged her to my chest, turning my back to the front of the chateau to put myself between her and whatever hell was breaking loose outside.

  Just in time too.

  The staccato patter of bullets sounded again, and then the chandelier came down. Shards of crystal flew everywhere, embedding in flesh as well as the old-fashioned horsehair plaster walls. A quick glance over my shoulder told me at least half a dozen people had been underneath it, and their blood pooled around the debris. Others were down too, and everywhere I looked, I saw more blood. Smelled and tasted the metallic tang. Heard cries and sobs.

  Hunching my shoulders over Ros’s head, I sprinted down the corridor leading to the kitchen and ran for the servants’ entrance like I’d never run before.

  I had to get her the hell out of here, get her as far from this place as I could.

  If I could make it into the woods, we might not be seen by whatever fucking army seemed intent on bringing this whole place down. If we stayed to the trees, we might be able to put a mile or two between us and this….

  Just then, that was all I cared about.

  THERE, CHARLENE said. I smell them.

  Sure enough, I detected movement in the shadows beneath some elderberry stalks, a streak of darkness moving past a big bay window. Jet was bent almost in half, shooting from place to place along the building’s exterior as if with a specific destination in mind.

  Beams of light from dozens of conveyances cut through the brittle darkness, reflecting off the metallic strand Jet stretched from one block of a malleable white substance to the next, which they carefully secured where one of the central towers abutted the front of the building. For a few moments I watched them work with great intent and concentration, though I sensed no magic being performed. I stretched and curled my fingers, eager to sink them into Jet’s flesh and hear their screams, but I waited until the moment would be perfect. I didn’t want to waste it.

  The thunderous cacophony of a large machine shook the ground upon which I stood, and I heard Jet draw in a sharp breath. Still crouched and taking advantage of the shadows cast by the rosebushes, they turned in the direction of the sound. When Jet’s eyes fell on me and Charlene, they seemed compelled to stand.

  “No!” Jet’s fists shook around the devices and spool of wire they held. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here!”

  I smiled until I could feel the night air against my gums at Jet’s agitation. My retribution would be a thing of beauty. But just as I lifted my hand to begin, a series of rapid pops shattered the pregnant quiet. The window behind Jet crumbled, raining glass into the building. Eyes wide, Jet reached up to wipe the blood from their cheek with the back of their hand. Screams came from inside. From the lawn at the front of the chateau, shouting and more explosions erupted. I was irritated by this distraction to the vengeance I had so anticipated, but before I could think of how to vent my frustration, projectiles hit the wall close to where I stood, producing small clouds of powdered stone. Jet got to their feet and launched themself at me. My back hit the ground hard, frozen soil and thorny fronds digging into my skin. Charlene had leapt from my shoulder and now stood a little way off, growling low in her throat.

  I closed my hand around the back of Jet’s neck, ready to throw them aside and continue as I had planned. But then they spoke, lips moving against the edge of my ear.

  “I know you’d like to kill me, and I also know you won’t believe me if I tell you I only wanted to protect you, that you really have no idea what these people will do if they get ahold of you. But it doesn’t matter. I have something I know you can’t resist in motion here.”

  “Get off me.” I pushed Jet to the side before standing, and then I offered them a hand. I suppose I was following an instinct that rarely led me astray, or that told me I was about to witness something… singular. As Jet got to their feet, I scooped Charlene up and held her inside my elbow. She began to purr, and I waved my fingers to shield Jet and myself from what was becoming quite the gathering on the front lawn. Jet watched me with the eyes of a cornered animal, and as I watched them back, pieces slotted into place, a picture slowly forming. “You did this. You somehow caused all of these forces to converge here. It wasn’t an act of fate.”

  Their smile was self-satisfied, as well it might be. “No fate, and not even very much magic. When Dante handed me that computer he took from the Nazis, it was a cakewalk to infiltrate all of their systems. These guys are assholes, sure, but they’re only a small part of a much larger picture. They’re working for Sekhet-Aaru, the mage guild gathered here tonight. Over the last few years, me and the rest of ESM, along with some unaffiliated hackers and anarchists, have discovered a lot of Sekhet-Aaru’s plans. It would take a while to explain, and I sincerely doubt you care, so I’ll just say they want to bring this world to the brink of annihilation, and they’re closer than we had any idea. Inciting racial violence is a big part of their end game.

  “When Inky and Dante learned about this gathering, I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” Jet gestured to the crystalline brick affixed to the building. “There’s this hot Irish lady I do tech work for sometimes, and she has some friends who are geniuses with explosives. She needed a pretty complex bit of tracking done recently, so I agreed to it, in exchange for enough C-4 to turn this place into a crater.”

  I tapped my fingertips together and grinned. Was it any wonder? Jet had manipulated the situation like a master, and not even I had had any idea. My admiration was not even grudging, and I seriously considered forgetting the unfortunate situation in that dank little room.

  “Why lure these lumbering oafs?” I pointed to the bald men spilling out of the corrugated metal rectangle.

  Jet winked. “They’re not the only ones I lured. Are we safe?”

  “As a babe in its mother’s arms,” I said.

  Jet picked up the spool of wire and the devices they’d held when they’d tackled me to the ground, then kissed Charlene between the ears, hooked their arm through mine, and led me toward the fountain at the front of the house. “Then let’s watch the show.”

  Chapter Thirty

  THERE.

  There was the road that would take me away from here. I didn’t belong here—I was a thug from North Philly, and I didn’t have it in me to be anything else. But my sister wasn’t. She fit in with these people. She had been smiling, swaying to the music, enjoying the fancy food. And she had looked so fucking pretty in the kind of dress I’d never be able to give her. What right did I have to take her away from all of that? And where would I even take her?

  As I jogged around the mansion, heading for the large fountain out front, a shitload of headlights suddenly blinded me. All kinds of cars and trucks and vans were gunning it up the driveway and kicking up gravel as they hit the brakes.

  What the fuck?

  Survival instinct kicked in, and I pressed my back against the building where I wouldn’t be seen but could still see what was happening out front.

  The vehicles lined up to the left and right of the fountain, six on one side, eight on the other. Then people started getting out, armed like they were headed into a war zone, assault rifles gripped tight, faces covered by masks and bodies by bulletproof vests. They started taking up positions, some of them using the vehicles for cover while oth
ers fanned out, hiding among the bunches of trees or disappearing into the shadows beyond the lights of the house. My heart was hammering, and sweat ran into my eyes even though it was fucking freezing out here. But all I could do for now was watch.

  I heard a familiar female voice shouting orders in a language I sort of recognized but didn’t understand. It was Moirin, all in black, crouched in the back of one of those long contractor-style vans, telling her people what to do as she handed out guns, grenades, and even what looked like sticks of dynamite. Opposite her, two black men I didn’t know were laying spike strips across the driveway.

  What the hell could these people be doing here? At this weirdass mage party? And why?

  I didn’t have much time to think about it before a tractor trailer hauling a flatbed with a shipping container strapped to it came barreling up the road like a bat out of hell. It slammed to a stop and jackknifed, the bed sliding into place parallel to the building. As soon as it did, Nazis started pouring out of the container, and they hit the ground shooting. I heard glass break, and all I could do was hit the dirt.

  The only thing on my mind was my sister and getting her out of here. I used my elbows to pull myself along as the WLF sprayed the house and the line of vehicles in front of it with bullets, and Moirin and the others who had apparently come here expecting them returned fire.

  As soon as I felt like I wouldn’t make myself an easy target, I stood and ran for the back entrance.

  THE CRUNCH of snow told me Dante was about to make his move, and none too soon. Moirin and the others were losing ground fast due to the sheer numbers the WLF had gathered. I drew my pistol, rolled to my back, and fired three shots into the silhouette looming over me from a distance of less than ten feet.