Incubus Yule

by A. H. Lee

  “We are sustained by the pure joy of the hunt!” exclaimed Mal. “Let’s go!”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Tod.

  “When a sorcerer makes you hollandaise sauce, you eat the hollandaise sauce,” said Jessica.

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Mal!” snapped Azrael. “Let him eat breakfast! For gods’ sakes, you are going to be up there shivering in that blind long before any geese arrive as it is!”

  “Alright, alright,” grumbled Mal. He stopped beside Azrael and rubbed his nose against his hip in a feline kiss. “Should I take my collar or leave it here?”

  Azrael hesitated. “Better leave it with me. I might need it if I have to come find you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Nevertheless.”

  “Good morning, Lucy,” said Tod as he walked into the kitchen. “Are you certain you do not wish to hunt geese?”

  “Entirely certain, dear boy,” she said with a toothy smile. “Can I interest you in Mal’s side of the chessboard, since he seems to have lost interest in having thumbs?”

  “I prefer checkers, thanks.”

  They ate breakfast. Mal could not be induced to take a plate, and he lay under the table, his tail bumping Jessica’s legs with its impatient lashing.

  “Are the staff looking forward to their Yule feast?” Azrael asked as he sipped his coffee.

  “Yes, my lord, very much. So are the courtiers.”

  Mal’s voice issued from under the table. “You shouldn’t have to call him ‘my lord’ when you’ve handcuffed him to a bed.”

  Tod’s skin went almost as red as his hair. Azrael nearly choked on his coffee. Lucy’s expression did not change, but Jessica heard Mal give a grunt as though someone had kicked him.

  “I did not handcuff him to anything—” began Tod.

  At the same time, Azrael said, “He’s right. I’m just Ren here.”

  “Whatever you say, sir.”

  Azrael shook his head. “Would you like any food to take with you?”

  Tod rose, stretching. “No, it’s too hard to carry. If I’m hunting, I’d rather just stay on four legs.”

  Mal shot out from under the table. “Then get that way!”

  Tod went into the bathroom to change. “Why does he do that?” Mal asked Jessica. “Everyone here has already seen him naked. Except Lucy. Maybe. Lucy, have you seen Tod naked?”

  “A lady never tells whom she has seen naked,” said Lucy severely.

  Jessica caught Mal’s head in both hands and pulled it into her lap. “Mal, stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “This entire line of enquiry.”

  “I just want to leave.”

  “I know. You will. But don’t embarrass Tod.”

  She rubbed his nose and ears and after a few moments, Mal sighed and dropped the weight of his head into her lap. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. Just calm down.”

  He was reasonably calm by the time Tod came trotting back into the room. He was about the height of the largest dog Jessica had ever seen, but he looked bigger with his thick ruff of red-gold fur. However, he was only about a third the size of Mal as panther, who danced over to lick his face and then bounded for the door.

  Tod shook his head. Jessica knew he felt less at home in his animal skin than Mal did. She knelt and put her arms around him. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.

  Tod gave a snort of doggie laughter. “They call it a curse for a reason, Jessica.”

  “Still beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” He took a deep breath. “Now I’m going to help your lunatic husband catch a mythical animal. If we’re not back by teatime, send the dragon.”

  Chapter 2

  Tod

  They left through the garden. The big window in Azrael’s formal dining room overlooked the west end, where rows of stately pecan trees threw dark shadows across the moonlit path. Tod caught a glimpse of Jessica waving to them from the window. He wished she’d come. It wasn’t exactly that he disliked being alone with Mal, but there was still some awkwardness between them, and they had not said much to each other on their rabbit hunts.

  Mal was certainly too excited to talk now. He loped over the frosty ground, his breath making clouds in the chilly air. Tod had to admit that it was a glorious night for running on four legs. The moon was almost full, and his wolf senses painted the world around him in luminous detail. The loamy, green smell of the gardens mingled with sap from the fir trees that had been cut and dragged over the earth here. The distant sea gave the air a trace of salt, a trace of magic. Livestock and wild animals and people had all passed this way. Tod could smell horses. All of these scents were so much more interesting when he was a wolf.

  “Race you to the river?” said Mal.

  Tod shot down the path without bothering to answer, towards the branch of the Rapunzel that he and Mal would follow up into the hills. Mal streaked past him, but Tod caught up a little ways further on. Mal was better at sprints, but Tod had a more sustained gait. They dashed through the dark hay fields along the edge of the horse pasture, trading places. Mal ran far enough ahead for an ambush. He launched himself out of the shadows, sending them both over in a shower of frosty grass, then streaked away, laughing. Tod was laughing, too—warm with the run and feeling more relaxed. Maybe I should go out at night more often. They slowed as they reached wilder country near the river, jogging through wheat fields, and then over fallow land. The track narrowed and narrowed—just a horse trail, now.

  “It’s so strange to be out here without him,” said Mal abruptly.

  Mal’s internal logic sometimes eluded Tod, but he thought he knew what the incubus was talking about. “Does Azrael ride this way when he checks the wards?”

  “Yes.” Mal had settled into a steady lope after his mad dash through the grounds of the estate. “He tells me I can go wherever I want now, but I don’t always remember.”

  Well, that’s maybe just as well. “Do you miss him when he’s not around?”

  “Sometimes. He says we are too codependent and I need to make my own decisions.”

  Tod laughed. “Do you even know what codependent means, Mal?”

  “Yes, he made me read psychology books.”

  Tod considered. “I don’t think mundane psychologists are reliable sources of wisdom about sorcerers and demons.”

  “I wondered that,” said Mal.

  “Just about every sorcerer I’ve ever met was somewhat codependent with his or her demons. You’re sort of…symbiotic.”

  “What is symbiotic?”

  “Read a biology book.”

  “Alright, but what is it?”

  “You need each other to survive…or at least to thrive.”

  “Oh.” Mal was silent for a while.

  Tod kept turning to stare at the dancing moon on the ripples of the water. It was mesmerizing.

  Mal spoke again, “Why do you hate being a wolf?”

  Tod was taken off-guard. “I don’t hate being a wolf, Mal. I hate being a werewolf.”

  “Why?”

  When Tod said nothing, Mal added, almost hesitantly. “You make a very nice wolf.”

  Now you sound like Jessica.

  As though reading his thoughts, Mal continued, “Jessica says it hurts when you change shape.”

  “It does.”

  “Every time?”

  “Yes, Mal. It hurts like hell every time.”

  Mal was silent a moment. “When I asked you to come hunting with me, I didn’t know I was asking to hurt you.”

  Tod waved his tail. “It’s alright. It’s fun to be a wolf sometimes. It only feels like I’m dying for a few seconds.”

  Mal made a face. “Is it the inhibitor?”

  “Yes.” Tod was already tired of this subject and irritation crept into his voice. “I’m not sure changing shape is ever comfortable for a werewolf, but the inhibitor makes it a lot worse. I haven’t spent much time without an inhibitor. I don’t know
how that feels.”

  Another long silence.

  Tod knew that his annoyance was unreasonable, and he tried to soften his tone. “The wolf was imposed on me, Mal. It’s not part of my nature. Not like you. It’s not who I am. I had magic and a future in a powerful family, and the wolf destroyed all that. Whenever I go home, I have to be hidden. I have to watch my back constantly. I see my twin brother growing into his power and his place and doing amazing things, and I feel stuck.” Tod snapped his mouth shut. He hadn’t meant to say all that.

  Naturally, Mal latched onto something random. “You have a twin brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must be odd.”

  Tod smiled. “Well, we were born that way, so…not really.”

  They ran in silence for a while. They were in the hills now, switchbacking up the side of the mountain. Mal startled Tod again by saying, “Jessica invited Yuli to dinner.”

  “Did she?” Tod spoke with all the nonchalance he could muster.

  “Yuli likes you.”

  Tod said nothing.

  “She thinks you don’t like her, but you do.”

  Damn it, Mal. I need wards.

  “Why don’t you want her to know?”

  “Because she doesn’t like me, Mal. She doesn’t know me.”

  “You mean she doesn’t know you’re a werewolf.”

  “Her family are inquisitors right next to my home island. People hire them to catch and kill magical pests. They’ve done it for generations. They’re very good at it. They could make so much trouble for me if they knew. It’s not worth the risk. And she would hate me.”

  Tod knew he wasn’t giving Yuli enough credit. That’s my bitterness talking. He tried again, “She would be torn. She would have to choose between her upbringing and what she knows about me. She might choose me for a while. She’d probably feel conflicted and guilty about it. But eventually she’ll go home, Mal. She’ll go home like all the courtiers do, and she’ll be around her family again. After she gets this place out of her system, she’ll take their side. Meanwhile, I would like to keep going home a few times a year without anyone trying to kill me. Do you understand why I can’t risk that?”

  “Yes,” said Mal humbly. After a moment, he added, “Would she hate Jessica?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Would she hate me?”

  “She’s not crazy about you as it is.”

  Mal laughed. “I know. It’s so funny when people don’t like me.”

  Tod gave a doggy smirk and said nothing.

  “She’s curious about me,” continued Mal. “She might like me if I tried harder, but Jessica doesn’t want Yuli to know that she’s friends with a couple of demons and a werewolf, so I just let her stay suspicious and curious.” After a heartbeat’s pause, he added. “I don’t understand why you can’t fuck her, though. Does she really have to know everything about you first?”

  Tod gave a weary wave of his tail. “I am fucking her best friend, Mal.”

  Mal looked bewildered.

  I can’t believe I am trying to explain this to an incubus. “Most people find that off-putting.”

  “But…you and Jessica are just friends.”

  “Friends that fuck.”

  “Jessica is a succubus! She has to feed!”

  “Yuli doesn’t know that, and I can’t tell her.”

  “She knows Jessica is married to other people.”

  Tod sighed. “And that seems very strange to her, but she tries not to judge. Look, Mal, Yuli and I are friends, and I like being her friend. She doesn’t think I’m available to…to fuck. That is what I want her to think. That is the end of it.” That has to be the end of it.

  Mal made a grumbling noise. “That is not a happy ending.”

  No, it’s a safe ending. A realistic ending. “We can’t all be you, Mal.” Tod knew he sounded bitter now. Damn it. He is only trying to help.

  Fortunately, Mal was not always good at reading human tones. He sounded less hurt than confused. “I’m not fucking her, either.”

  Tod laughed. “Thanks for the run, Mal. It really is beautiful out here. I hope we catch your goose.”

  Another long pause. “I didn’t know shifting hurt you so much.”

  I wish I hadn’t talked to you about that. The only thing worse than being a werewolf was the pity Tod often encountered when people found out—the looks on their faces that said, “What a waste.” He put on a burst of speed to drive the image from his mind. “Race you to the top of the hill?”

  Chapter 3

  Jessica

  After Mal and Tod left, Azrael took a break from his cooking and sat down to play Mal’s side of the chess board in earnest. Jessica did not think he would win. Mal had put him at a serious disadvantage. But you do love a challenge.

  Jessica excused herself to bathe and possibly go back to sleep. Their new washroom was as big as Azrael’s old bedroom with a separate shower and bathtub. The bathtub had golden paws and could be asked to move around the room, although it had to return to its spigot in the wall to get water. It was a wedding gift from Bethsaria. Jessica was both delighted and a little afraid of it.

  “It’s not alive,” Azrael had told her about ten times. “It’s a golem.”

  “Think of it as a dog,” Mal had said.

  “I don’t want to bathe in a dog!”

  “It’s a priceless antique,” Azrael had said, “probably from before the Sundering.”

  “Are you sure there’s not a bound demon in there?”

  “Positive.”

  Jessica had discovered that the bathtub liked lavender bath salts, which made her feel better about using it. The tub made a contented bubbling when it was pleased and a decidedly energetic slurping when it drank up the bath salts afterward. It was good at keeping water warm, which Jessica appreciated in the chilly weather.

  She washed her hair and had a long, warm soak, during which she dozed with her head on the sculpted edge. When she emerged, feeling relaxed and clean and better rested, it was around 6:30. Jessica dried herself, wrapped her wet hair in a fluffy towel, and put on her dressing gown again.

  She stepped out of the washroom, trying to decide what to wear, and found Azrael sitting at the desk in his apron, scribbling on a piece of paper. “Jessica, would you mind giving me some focus?”

  Jessica was surprised. He rarely asked her for this. The silver ring on her finger was made from a link of Mal’s collar, and it matched the ring on Azrael’s own finger. The rings had Jessica’s blood in them, as well as Mal’s and Azrael’s. They could function the same way as Mal’s collar. However, Jessica was not as powerful a magical entity as Mal or Lucy, and her magic was more quickly exhausted. Her father had not been an astral demon, and she was several generations removed from the astral plane.

  Nevertheless, she was highly conductive of magic—a fact Mal had used to his advantage when they’d first met. Her parents and birth father had seemed astonished when she told them she was a demon. They hadn’t commented much, except to say that, if they had known, they would have taken steps to protect her. Jessica had gotten the idea that they wanted to say more, but they were embarrassed. She had some notions about the manner in which she’d been conceived, but couldn’t quite bring herself to ask for the details, either. If she was right, it confirmed Mal’s idea that he could essentially father a child through Azrael.

  At any rate, Jessica was more human than demon, and she liked it that way. However, there was something flattering about being asked to help with Azrael’s business. “Certainly! What do you need?”

  Azrael looked up from his paper with an embarrassed smile. “I’m trying to make cookies.”

  Jessica swallowed her laugh. “With magic?”

  “With ambrosia. I can make cookies taste good with magic. That’s easy, although I’d never do it.”

  “Your cookies do not need help,” agreed Jessica, leaning on the desk. She saw that the paper contained sigils, not words. He was writin
g a spell, not a letter.

  Azrael smiled. “I’m trying to put undifferentiated magic into cookies, so that people like you and me could actually absorb it while eating them. Ambrosia is famously unstable. I’m not sure I can get it through the baking process, but I’d like to try.”

  “I am at your disposal,” said Jessica.

  Azrael grinned his silliest little boy grin and continued with more animation, “I thought I should put it in the sugar at first, but then I realized that the structure is wrong. It won’t work in the flour, either. I could put it in the eggs, but that would create an unpredictable reaction, since eggs have potential for life.”

  Jessica considered. “The eggs might hatch?”

  Azrael nodded. “The eggs might hatch into who-knows-what. The cookies themselves might hatch after they’re baked. Or come to life. Or begin reproducing by division like amoebas.”

  “That would be a truly exciting dessert course,” agreed Jessica. “And more exercise than anyone is expecting.”

  “So I think,” continued Azrael, “that I need to put the ambrosia in the butter. I need to make it as stable as possible first. Will you come and help?”

  “Shall I do my hair and make-up before or after?”

  Azrael considered. “After. This might get messy.”

  “Then lead the way.”

  Chapter 4

  Tod

  Tod reached the clearing first. He flopped down in front of the blind, tongue lolling, struggling for breath, but feeling smug. Mal trotted up the trail seconds later, having abandoned his all-out run for something easier. He stretched out with his belly against the cold ground and gasped clouds of steam into the frosty air. Tod guessed that dawn was still an hour away.

  “How are you faster than me?” asked Mal when he got his wind.

  “Lust is a little lazy?” suggested Tod.

  “Fuck off.”

  “I’m a werewolf—evolved to hunt things that run away. You hunt things that walk right up to you.”

  “Fair point.” Mal gave a lazy grin. “When I hunt, they chase me.”

  Tod rolled his eyes. “Can you get the blind open? If I change shape, I’ll be cold and naked.”

  “And hurt.”