“Juice? What kind of juice?” she asked in confusion.
“Any kind that contains sugar,” he said, “this woman is diabetic. She must have lost track of things with the time change on the flight.”
“Oh, ok,” she said and headed for the back of the plane with the baby in her arms, surprised by how natural it felt to cradle it against her. She returned in short order with a carton of orange juice and Stephen helped the woman to sit up and drink it.
A light coo met her ears. The baby was awake, its wide eyes scanning her face curiously. She couldn’t help the smile that lit her face. It smiled back and one of its chubby little hands fisted in her hair. A pang of longing welled in her chest that was foreign to her.
She looked at the color of the onesie it wore and the blanket, and deduced that the baby was male. He continued to smile toothlessly up at her as he waved the fist that clutched her hair. His look of innocence and his fresh, warm scent tugged at her heart.
“What’s your name?” she found herself cooing.
He drooled in answer and made an indescribable happy baby noise.
More unfamiliar emotions flooded her being. She kissed him on the forehead, unable to help herself. He was adorable.
Stephen was helping the woman back to her seat and retrieving a small bag that she had dropped on the floor. “Don’t worry,” he told her, “your son is fine.”
The lady looked up at Geneva. “I am so sorry…” the lady began.
“No worries,” Stephen insisted. “Could have happened to anyone with the time change. We’ll look after him until you’ve got your blood glucose back to normal. We’re just a couple rows in front of you.”
She looked panicky at his statement.
“Don’t worry, I’m a doctor,” he told her. “Are you traveling alone?”
She nodded, “I was visiting my family.”
“Alright. I’ll check on you in ten minutes.”
The woman seemed too relaxed. “Thank you so much. His name is Liam by the way.”
Geneva looked back down at the baby. “Liam,” she said softly.
The baby smiled once more and tried to stuff her hair in his mouth. Somehow she found the sight of it endearing.
Chapter 9
Aside from feeling a little teary when she’d had to give little Liam back, they arrived at Sydney Airport without further incident. He had refused to give her back her purse when she’d asked for it. Without her passport she was stuck. At this point, she had no choice but to wait until he unbound her and gave her things back.
Stephen collected their suitcases from the baggage claim and led her to a dark blue BMW in the airport garage, Geneva towed along behind him by the spell. As they drove north away from the airport he tried to make conversation by pointing out various sights to her but she stayed silent for most of the ride. It was beautiful country and bore some resemblances in architecture to other cities she’d visited in Europe. She was especially taken with the beautiful views as they passed over the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Before long they were passing through a gorgeous neighborhood and he pulled the car into the driveway of a sleek, modern, two-story house. He opened her door and extended his hand to help her out.
“Is this my cage?” she asked glumly as she grabbed his hand and stood.
He sighed and looked guilty. “Geneva, again, I’m really sorry. I just hope you’ll understand someday.”
He brought their suitcases in and set them just inside the front door then led her on a tour of the house. It was luxurious with several bedrooms and a large yard with a pool that overlooked the ocean. Wood floors stretched throughout the living and dining room and his furniture was stylish yet comfortable. She couldn’t help noticing how cozy it felt.
He led her to the kitchen where he began to pull food from the refrigerator. “You know what? I’ve been meaning to ask you if there’s anyone you need me to call so I can let them know when you’ll be back. Your boss at work maybe?”
She shook her head. “I don’t work.”
He looked confused. “Then how do you afford to live and travel?”
“Generations of wealthy ancestors,” she said.
His eyebrows rose. “Must be nice.” He laid some meat in a bowl and poured marinade from a bottle over it, then took a large cutting board from a cupboard and began to chop vegetables. “Want anything to drink?”
She shook her head and sat on one of the barstools that lined the other side of the granite countertop. “Such a large house for one man,” she commented. It felt very domestic and surprisingly pleasant it was to sit there in the kitchen with him. He was very hospitable for an abductor.
“I plan to have a family some day soon,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes. His cell phone began to vibrate where he had laid it on the counter next to his keys. He tapped a button on its face and raised it to his ear, hanging up after a brief conversation. “Looks like I’d better make more food,” he said. “We have a guest coming for dinner.”
***
An hour later the doorbell rang. Stephen went to answer it with Geneva trailing behind him. Smiling, he welcomed Burnu and took his jacket.
“Geneva, this is Burnu. He’s been my shamanic mentor for several years now.”
They shook hands politely and eyed each other, the aborigine solemn and the succubus suspicious.
He led them to the dining room where he had laid everything out with Geneva’s help a minute ago, and poured wine into their glasses as they sat.
“Your name is Geneva?” Burnu inquired quietly. “Not Sofia?”
“No,” she said slowly. “But that’s my mother’s name actually.”
“Ah! I knew you had to be her daughter. The resemblance is striking.”
Stephen served each of them the steaks he had grilled as he listened.
She looked taken aback. “You…you know my mother?”
“Yes, I knew her a long time ago, and your father.”
“My father?” she said very doubtfully. “You think you know who he is? Even my mother said she wasn’t sure who it might be.”
“You don’t know who your father is?” Stephen asked.
She shook her head. “No. He must have me confused with someone else.”
“No, I know I am right.” He pulled something from his pocket. “Here, I brought this picture with me. I was just curious if you knew her and if she was doing all right.” He passed it across the table.
Geneva held it in her hand and frowned. Stephen leaned in his chair to see it as well. It was a picture of a beautiful, young woman with a little girl about six years old. His mentor was right, he could have almost sworn that the picture was of Geneva, but there was something different in the expression in her eyes. “Is that her?” he asked anyway.
“Yes, but I don’t remember having this picture taken,” she said.
“You were very young at the time. That was taken when your mother came back to visit me,” Burnu said as he cut up his meat. “I’m not surprised she didn’t tell you about him. It wasn’t the happiest memory.”
“Why? Who was he?” she demanded.
They had to wait for the shaman to finish chewing his steak. “His name was Michael Cross. All I remember is that he was a business man who had moved to Sydney with his wife and newborn child.”
Stephen took a sip of his wine. Geneva was ignoring her food as she listened intently.
“I met them because I was called to help heal his wife’s depression. They had already seen several doctors and nothing had helped her. At the time, I suspected post-partum depression,” he said.
“So what happened?” she prodded.
“I knew something was wrong as soon as I walked into the house. I could feel it,” Burnu said. “When I examined your mother I could find nothing wrong with her physically. I attempted to clear and cleanse her, thinking there might be an evil spirit plaguing her, but that wasn’t it.”
They both watched him, caught up in the story.
> “During the cleansing I figured out that a love spell with a powerful binding element had been cast on her. The marks were clear on her aura. I believed that’s what was making her ill. Although her mind was clouded her soul and body knew the truth. After so much time trying to fight, it seemed those parts of her were giving up.”
“A spell?” Geneva said incredulously.
He nodded. “I confronted your father about it after I performed the ritual, but he denied it. I warned him things would only get worse.”
“Did they?” Stephen asked.
“Much worse,” Burnu said. “The woman they hired to care for the baby was a friend of mine. One day she told me how sad she was for the baby. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the mother died, she’d become extremely weak and could hardly eat. That’s when I knew I had to act.”
“Did you break the spell?” Geneva asked.
“Yes, but it was difficult,” he said. “I finally discovered where he’d hidden the objects he’d used to cast the spell. With the help of my friend who was nursing the baby, I was able to enter the house while Michael was gone, destroy them, and free Sofia. That’s when she told me what she was and how long she had been trapped by him.” He shook his head sadly.
“Where is Michael Cross now?” Stephen asked. Geneva would, of course, want to know.
“Unfortunately he died,” Burnu said with regret. “I set fire to the house as we left. I couldn’t risk him getting his hands on anything that belonged to her that could be used to cast another spell. But he came home and rushed into the building while the firemen where trying to put it out. It collapsed on top of him.”
Geneva looked pale. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re telling me that my mother was slave to my father? She had me only because he forced her to? You are saying that, because of you, he’s dead?”
There was silence.
Stephen didn’t know what to say and it seemed Burnu didn’t know either. Had he imagined the conversation would make her cry he would have stopped it earlier. But now he felt like an idiot for being so clinical and insensitive to not have seen that it would. Of course. She’d just learned her father was a horrible person who’d trapped her mother. He remembered her telling him that succubi chose when to have children, but her mother hadn’t chosen it seemed.
“Hold on…” Burnu began, his hands out in front of him. Too late.
She rose from the table, more tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t believe you! This is some kind of trick!” She whirled and headed towards the stairs.
Stephen quickly got up to follow her, not wanting her to get caught again by his binding spell. It would only upset her even more. “She’s been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours,” he hurriedly said as he passed Burnu.
“I’ll let myself out,” his friend called after him.
She walked straight into the master bedroom and stopped in the middle of it, crying in earnest. His heart bled for her. It had to be a shock to learn something so dark about her parent’s past.
He slowly walked to her side and put his arms around her from behind. She pulled away at first but then she melted into his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
His guilt intensified. He had put her through so much. He turned her in his arms to face him and wiped the tears gently from her cheeks. At this moment she bore little resemblance to the sparkling, vibrant creature he had met and it was all his fault. Her makeup was running down her cheeks and her pretty dress was rumpled from hours of travelling. He felt like the worst host in the world.
“I always thought my parents had experienced passion together,” she said miserably. “I imagined that somewhere there was this great man who was my father, someone I could look up to.”
He held her face between his hands, smoothing her hair back with is fingers. “I’m sure he did love you.”
“But, my mother…she didn’t choose to have me.”
“So what? She loves you anyway,” he said firmly.
“But…”
He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Come on,” he said leading her into the bathroom. “You’ve had a long day. A shower and some sleep is what you need.” He was a big believer in sleep curing all ills. They’d definitely had little of it since they’d met. Some of her reaction had to be coming from pure exhaustion.
He started the water then turned back and helped her remove her clothes. She just stood there looking lost and sad. He removed his own clothes, shedding them in a pile on the floor, but then stooped to retrieve something from the pocket of his jeans.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I did this, especially after what we heard tonight,” he said looking into her eyes. “I just hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”
She blinked at him.
“This is something I know I need to correct immediately.” He held his fist out to her and spread his fingers so she could see the cord-wrapped crystal lying on his palm. “I wish now that I had simply asked you for your help.”
He picked it up, concentrating as he loosed the ends of the cord and unwrapped it from the crystal. “I release you Geneva,” he said softly as he touched the heart of the crystal with his power, unlocking it. It glowed pink as it heated and opened, releasing its grasp on her soul.
She breathed in deeply as the bond was severed and gazed at it in wonder as he handed it to her.
“There. You’re free.” Her color looked a shade better and he couldn’t help wondering if binding spells in general had adverse side effects on succubi. But now wasn’t the time to ponder it. She allowed him to set the crystal on her pile of clothes and steer her into the shower where they stood together beneath the warm spray.
“Did you know?” she asked him softy.
“Know what?”
“About my mother. About me.” She looked up in to his eyes, her expression sad.
“No.” He ran his hands up her slender arms. “If I had, things would have been much different.”
He poured some shampoo into his hands and slowly massaged it into her hair. Her eyelids dropped with the sensation and he pulled her close against his chest. She leaned into him, resting her face on his shoulder. He pulled a washcloth from the ledge in the shower, added liquid soap to it, then gently ran it over her body in small, soothing circles, wishing he could wash away the pain as easily as the travel dust.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist.
With her breasts and naked body pressed against him his penis hardened automatically.
“Sorry,” he said easing his pelvis back from her a little.
But her mouth was on his chest, her tongue sliding over his wet skin. She followed his movement, pressing pelvis back against him. Her silky power slid under his skin and, god help him, he welcomed it. Every time they touched, he never wanted it to end. He brought his lips to hers and gently teased with little nibbles and nips until she parted for him. He went deeper with his tongue, holding her close. Her hand slid down his body to his cock and she began to stroke it.
His blood boiled with the contact but he fought to get a hold of himself. He knew they could easily end up having sex again but it wasn’t what she really needed. He pulled her hands up around his shoulders and continued to kiss her gently as the water trickled over them, allowing time for his arousal to subside.
She tried to slide her hands back down but captured them. Leaning his forehead against hers he groaned. “Geneva, I can’t get enough of you.”
“I feel the same way about you,” she said.
“I set out to capture a succubus and found this interesting woman that I want to know more about. I know this is going to sound strange but, I just want to be with you tonight.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes searching his face.
“Is that ok with you? Will you stay?”
Her expression brightened. She nodded.
Chapter 10
She woke to two of her f
avorite smells: coffee and bacon. Soft sunlight shone through a crack in the blackout drapes telling her it was still pretty early in the morning. She lay still in the soft bed and inhaled what was left of his scent on the sheets and pillow. After the shower they had lain together in bed and talked until early morning. It had been one of the best nights of her life, and that was saying something.
He had pulled her close to his side, his arms around her, her head on his chest, and wanted to know everything about her. From her favorite food to favorite memory, he had wanted to know it all, and she had wanted to know similar things about him as well. There had been several times where they had laughed together she remembered warmly. And then, finally, he’d made love to her slowly and gently in a way she’d never experienced before. Later drifting off to sleep snuggled in his arms.
She heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then he was coming through the doorway.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she said.
He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her lips gently. “How did you sleep?”
“Really well.”
“Good. I wanted to give this back to you.” He set her purse on the bed next to her making her heart swell. “I have breakfast ready downstairs. Come down when you’re ready.” He smoothed the hair back from her forehead and then left.
She rose and busied herself getting dressed and brushing her hair and teeth. Then she padded softly downstairs to the kitchen where he sat reading the morning paper on a bar stool with a cup of coffee in his hand.
He looked up when she entered. “Hey. I remembered you liked coffee and bacon but you never said how you like your eggs. Is scrambled going to be okay?” he said rising to assemble her a plate.
“Sure, thanks,” she said smiling. She poured coffee into a mug and stirred sugar into it. It was strange but she felt as thought they’d known him for years. It was a nice feeling. Too bad she was going to be leaving.
He carried her food and they settled together at the dining table.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” she said as she took a sip of her coffee and chewed the corner of her toast. He was looking especially fine in a dress shirt and pants, his hair damp and neatly combed to the side. She wondered how long that would hold before it became unruly again.
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