Succubus Shadows gk-5

by Richelle Mead

  Still…some part of me had thought maybe, just maybe someone might recognize me. Just the faintest spark of remembrance.

  Kyriakos could have been down near my father, overseeing his fleet, but something told me he’d be doing administrative tasks, not manual labor. My hunch was correct. Before I’d become a succubus, Kyriakos and I had had our own house. He must have moved back to his family’s home after Hell erased his memories.

  I braced myself to meet the lady of the house, the woman Kyriakos must have undoubtedly married. But when he came out to see who was visiting him, I found him alone. Seeing him made my heart stop. He too had been touched by age, but he was still young enough that the lines were few. Only the faintest of gray graced his hair, and like my mother, his eyes were the same. Dark and wonderful and full of goodness.

  “Do you need help?” he asked, voice friendly and curious.

  For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I was drunk from seeing him, filled with a mix of love and pain. I wished so badly that I had stayed with him, that I had never committed such sins. I wished I didn’t wear this youthful face. I should have grown old with him. My ability to conceive children had seemed sketchy at the time, but maybe we would have eventually had a family.

  Just like with everyone else, I claimed to need directions, stammering out the first random place I could think of. He described the way in detail, though I already knew it.

  “Do you want me to escort you there? This is a safe area…but you never know.”

  I smiled but felt no joy. The same Kyriakos. Infinitely kind to others, even a stranger. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to take you from your work.” I hesitated. “We met…a few years ago.”

  “Did we?”

  He studied me, apparently searching for the memory. His eyes remained blank, though. No trace of recognition. I was a stranger. I had never existed for him. I wondered if he’d even remember me when I left here.

  He shook his head, sounding sincerely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall it….” He was waiting for my name.

  “Letha.” The word burned on my lips. Like this shape, the name was dead to me. Only Hell ever used it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “It’s okay. Maybe I’m wrong. I thought…I thought you were a musician.” When we’d been married, he worked for his father but had hopes of giving that up and playing music full-time.

  Kyriakos chuckled. “Only as a hobby. Most of my days are hunched over numbers.”

  The loss of his ambition made me almost as sad as his lack of memory. “Well…your wife must be glad to have you home.”

  “Not married, I’m afraid.” He was still smiling. “My sister keeps house for me when she’s around.”

  “Not married?” I asked incredulously. “But why? At your age…” I blushed, realizing how rude I sounded. “I’m sorry.”

  He wasn’t offended. “At your age, marriage is all girls think about, huh? You probably have a dozen suitors with as pretty as you are.” Typical. Few had found me pretty while mortal; he had always believed me beautiful. “I just never found the right woman. I’d rather be alone than spend my life with the wrong person.” A dreamy, sad look filled his features, and then he shook his head and laughed. It was an uneasy laugh. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear some old man babbling about romantic nonsense. Are you sure you don’t want me to show you the way?”

  “No, no…I think I know where it’s at now. Thank you.” I started to turn away and then paused. “Kyriakos…are you…are you happy?”

  This question from someone less than half his age caught him by surprise. And I was surprised he answered. “Happy? Well…content, I guess. I have a good life. Better than most. A very good life, really. Sometimes I wonder…”

  My breath caught. “Wonder what?”

  “Nothing,” he said, giving me another good-natured smile. “More nonsense. Yes, Letha. I’m happy. Why do you want to know?”

  “Nonsense of my own,” I murmured. “And you’re sure you don’t remember me?”

  I had my answer before I spoke. No. Those eyes had never laid sight on me before. I was just an odd, passing girl. I was no one.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t.” He winked. “But I’ll remember you now.”

  Somehow, I doubted it. Leaving him, I felt my heart break. Really, my heart was breaking all the time. You’d think it could only happen once. This was what I’d wanted. What I’d gambled eternity for. Kyriakos was happy. I’d saved him and should be happy in return. Yet, I felt unhappier than I had since becoming a succubus. I decided at that moment I’d never use Letha’s shape or name again. I wanted to wipe her from my mind too….

  “It’s so easy with you,” hissed the Oneroi. It was Two, I thought. I was back in the box. “We don’t even need the ivory gate.”

  I was so scarred from that memory of Kyriakos, by the truth of what it really meant to be erased from someone’s life, that I was inclined to agree with Two. Then, a tiny spark within me glimmered just a bit. I studied the two Oneroi carefully.

  “What was the other dream?” I asked. “Before the one about my husband? Why didn’t you let it finish?”

  “It did finish,” said One. Their blue, blue eyes were the same, revealing nothing.

  “It didn’t,” I argued. “You cut it off. It didn’t go the way you planned, did it? My friends found out something from Dante—something you didn’t want them to know.”

  “They found nothing,” Two replied. “It was a lie. We gave you false hope, hope that will turn to ashes when you find yourself spending the rest of eternity here.”

  “You’re the lie,” I said. The spark within my ragged, worn body flared just a little more. “The dream was true.”

  One continued the denial. “The only truth is that you can’t tell the difference. And that there is no hope.”

  “You’re lying,” I said, but as those cold sets of eyes surveyed me, my spark wavered. Uncertainty spread within me. I’d been through so much, a mental rape of sorts, that I questioned once more if I trusted myself. My words were bold, but I no longer knew if I could believe them.

  Two smiled, able to see into my mind. “Dream,” he said.

  Chapter 17

  My initial time with the Oneroi had been a mix of true and false dreams. As time went on—and I really had no way of saying how much of it did go on—the majority of them seemed to be true ones. They were either visitations of awful memories or more glimpses into my current life, meant to demoralize me and make me homesick.

  I was still torn apart, still feeling more animal than human or succubus or…whatever. Yet, the fleeting pieces of rationality within me wondered at the sudden lack of handcrafted visions. One might argue the Oneroi were being lazy. They were just giving me recycled material, and whenever I did see my friends in the world, I got the impression that it was less a dream and more like the Oneroi flipping me onto a TV channel to make sure I stayed distracted and gave them something to feed off of. It almost felt like they were trying to keep me busy because…well, they were busy. But why? What had happened? What had Dante been about to tell Roman and the others? Was it enough to make the Oneroi pull some of their attention from me? Or were these simply more mind games meant to leave me in turmoil?

  I kept hoping I’d see a follow-up to what had happened with Dante, but the Oneroi had other parts of the life I’d left behind to show me. Or, well, parts I hadn’t left behind. Simone was still impersonating me, and the Oneroi wanted me to know.

  Adding insult to injury, she was helping Maddie and Seth with the wedding. The three of them were out cake shopping, and honestly, I was almost more surprised to find Seth there than I was Simone in her disguise. He’d pretty much kept away from the wedding planning as much as possible, using the pretense that he was no good at decisions and was happy to let Maddie run things the way she wanted.

  I didn’t doubt the first part of what he said but wondered about the second. In my heart of hearts, the one that believed h
e was still in love with me, I secretly hoped he was passing it to Maddie just because he was indifferent to it all. I wanted to believe that he really didn’t care about the planning because he didn’t care about the wedding.

  It was clear, however, that I cared. Or rather—Simone cared. Considering my reluctance at dress shopping, you would have thought Maddie might notice the sudden increase in zeal. Nope. Maddie was too caught up in her own bubble of happiness and welcomed “my” assistance.

  So, the three of them set off on a cake adventure, visiting all the bakeries Maddie had compiled and ranked on a list pulled from hours of Internet research.

  “You want it creamy,” said Simone, licking icing off her fingers at a bakery in Belltown. Actually, it was more like sucking. “This is a little too sugary.” The threesome sat at a table where they had been provided with a plate of samples.

  “That’s the point,” said Maddie. She was eating a bite-size piece of chocolate cake in a much less pornographic way. “Mega sugar rush.”

  “Yeah, but if you get too much sugar, it just tastes grainy. You want it to slide right over your lips.” She turned to Seth. “Don’t you think so?”

  Seth had taken a bite out of a piece of marble cake. “It is kind of grainy.”

  Simone gave him a knowing smile, one that seemed to say, See? I know you better than anyone else in the world.

  Seth held her eyes for a moment, but his expression was unreadable. He turned toward Maddie. “But we can do whatever you want.”

  “No, no,” she said, not sounding too disappointed. “This is for both of us. I want it to be something you like too.”

  Seth gave her a mischievous smile. “Does it matter? It all gets shoved in the face anyway.”

  Maddie’s eyes went wide. “No, it doesn’t! Don’t even think about doing that.”

  “Guess you won’t know until the time comes, huh?” His smile had grown.

  Seeing him play with her made me (figuratively) squirm, but I took comfort in seeing a flash of annoyance in Simone’s eyes. Maddie was succeeding where Simone couldn’t. That was how it should be…or was it? Maddie’s unwitting triumph over Simone meant she had…well, triumphed over me. Or had she? Simone looked like me but wasn’t truly me. Damn. This was all so confusing.

  “Seth wouldn’t do that,” said Simone, resting her hand on his shoulder in what was supposed to be a friendly way. Maddie couldn’t see it from her vantage, but Simone’s fingers lightly brushed the back of his neck. “Not if he wants a good honeymoon.”

  She spoke lightly, but there was a sly undertone there. Having her sex life brought up in public made Maddie blush. Seth had shifted uncomfortably, but the reason was unclear. Simone’s fingers? The mention of sex? Maybe both. Simone removed her hand, seeming innocent to all the world, except Seth and me.

  Maddie seemed eager to change the subject from the romantic goings-on of a honeymoon. “I think you should at least pick the cake flavor,” she said. “I’m choosing so much else.”

  “I don’t know,” said Seth. He still seemed uncomfortable. “I don’t care if you do it.”

  “Yeah, but she wants you to,” said Simone. “Come on, make one firm decision here. You can’t go wrong. Maddie’ll eat anything you pick.”

  Loaded statement. Neither Seth nor Maddie acted as though they read anything into it, but I had a feeling Simone had intended it as a reference to Maddie’s very buxom figure.

  “Exactly,” said Maddie. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

  “I bet I can guess,” said Simone. “Chocolate.”

  “Strawberry,” said Maddie.

  Losers. It was vanilla.

  “Vanilla,” said Seth.

  Maddie groaned. “Naturally. Well, there’s one decision made.” She rose from the table. “Let’s try a few other places and get the rest of this taken care of. Not much left after this.” They reached the door, and Maddie stopped to glance at Simone. “Oh, hey. Will you do me a favor? Will you take Seth tux shopping?”

  “What?” asked Seth. No neutral face now. He was shocked.

  Maddie grinned. “If you don’t have a keeper, you’ll show up at the church in a Billy Idol T-shirt. And it’s bad luck if I go with you.”

  “I thought that was just for the bride,” said Seth.

  “I want to be surprised,” Maddie countered.

  “Of course I’ll go,” said Simone, putting her arm around Seth again in that “friendly” way.

  Maddie beamed, and the bakery faded away……transforming into Erik’s store.

  Erik sat at a small table with Jerome and Roman, and—so help me—they were drinking tea. Even Jerome. Roman was visible, which made me think Jerome must have decided they no longer needed to fear the eyes of higher powers who might wonder why my “human” roommate kept tagging along with Seattle’s archdemon.

  Erik was tapping his tea cup thoughtfully. “If your theory is right, it would explain a lot.” These words were directed at Roman. “The dream quality of the visions. Mr. Jerome’s complete inability to find her.”

  Jerome’s slightly arched eyebrow was the only indication of his displeasure over the word “inability.”

  Erik continued, eyes on his cup as he pondered it all. “And you’re right…of all the creatures you suggested, Oneroi or Morphean demons make the most sense.”

  Oh! I thought in triumph to the Oneroi. How do you like that, bitches? My friends are on to you. No response came. No dissolving of the dream, as I would have expected.

  “But why her?” asked Roman irritably. I had a feeling he’d taken credit for the dream idea, shielding Dante from Jerome’s wrath. “Why a succubus? Don’t they only care about human dreams?”

  “They’re tied to Nyx,” pointed out Erik. Oh, yes. My friends were smart. Smarter than Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys put together. Maybe even Matlock too.

  “The ‘why’ is irrelevant,” said Jerome, speaking at last. “Whether it’s Oneroi or Morpheans is also irrelevant. If something’s taken her to the world of dreams, she’s completely inaccessible.”

  Roman frowned. “Why? Can’t you just go in there and pull her out now that you know?”

  Jerome gave his son a smile that almost, almost seemed genuinely amused. “You’re half-human, and it shows. Greater immortals can’t go there. We don’t dream. Only humans do. The way is barred to us.”

  “Because you have no hopes or imaginings of what might be,” said Erik. His manner and tone clearly indicated he believed such a thing to be a failing for angels and demons. “You need a soul to dream.”

  “Well, if I’m half-human, then I’ll go there,” said Roman obstinately, cutting off any retort Jerome might have given. “I dream. So I can enter, right? And I can take on whatever’s there.” There was so much determination in his voice that I half believed he could take on an army of Oneroi right now.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Jerome. “Clearly. Do you have any idea what the dream world is like?”

  “Do you?” asked Roman dryly. “I thought you couldn’t go there.”

  “Dreams are what fuel human existence. Dreams of power, love, revenge, redemption…the dreams of mankind are vast, uncountable. Humans dream both waking and asleep. Those hopes and fears are what put them at risk—they gamble their lives and souls on dreams. You go into the world of dreams, and it’s like stepping into a blizzard. Every snowflake is some human imagining flitting by so quickly, you can’t even see it. All you see is a blur, a tangle of longings and chaos. If Georgina is there, she is one of those snowflakes. You would never find her soul.”

  Heavy silence fell.

  Finally, Roman said, “That was like poetry, Dad.”

  “But he’s correct,” Erik told Roman.

  More silence.

  Roman glanced between the two of them incredulously. “So that’s it? It’s hopeless? You’re giving up without even trying to find her?”

  “Trying is hopeless,” said Jerome. Demons might not dream the wa
y humans did, but I suspected even he could picture what his superiors would do when they found out he’d lost a succubus. “Human magic could access the world of dreams, but it’d do no good.” He glanced at Erik, who nodded.

  “Someone lost among all that couldn’t be called back. Not even the strongest ritual could do it. Her soul would never hear anything we could muster.”

  Roman’s face was a mixture of emotions. Anger. Disbelief. And…resignation. That didn’t surprise me. Jerome’s face did, however. He had stiffened at Erik’s words, a spark of insight flashing in those cold, dark eyes.

  “But you could do the ritual, correct?” he asked Erik. “You’re human. You’re strong enough to open the way.”

  Erik eyed him warily. “Yes…but by your own admission, it would achieve nothing. The connection you had to her was theoretically strong enough to possibly summon her back, but you can’t enter. All we’d have is a useless doorway.”

  Jerome stood up abruptly. He glanced at Roman. “Find your own way home.” The demon vanished with a showy poof of smoke.

  And I vanished back into the Oneroi’s prison. They stood there in the dark, glowing from what they’d taken from me. In dreams, though I suffered, I never felt the horrific effects they caused until I returned from them. That was when the agony, energy loss, and confusion hit me. Yet, this time, I wasn’t completely lost to despair.

  “You were wrong,” I said. I tried to put some smugness in my voice, but it came out hoarse from my exhaustion. Good God. I was so, so tired. I guess dreaming didn’t necessarily mean sleeping. “My friends have figured it out. They know where I am.”

  As always, One and Two were nearly impossible to read. “What makes you think that was a true dream?”

  Excellent question. “Gut instinct,” I said.

  “You believe you can trust it?” asked One. “After all this time? After so many dreams? How can you tell what’s real and unreal?”

  I couldn’t. I knew when the memories were true—for now—but the “real world” scenes were harder. Maybe it wasn’t my gut so much as my blind optimism that believed what I’d just seen was real.