“I can take her from you,” the Dark Lord said. “All Succubi obey me, and only me, in the end.”
Alburet’s blood went cold then hot as his hands clenched. “I will not let you,” he spat the words. “She is her own person, not some toy to be controlled at a whim.”
“But isn’t that what you do?” the Dark Lord mocked. “Do you not control her? Do you not force her to accept your will?”
“Nay,” Stacia said before Alburet could reply. “I bend to his will of me own choice. It be right and I wish it. He asks me iffin me be wantin this or tha’, he rarely forces his will upon me own. Truly, he blends love an’ control as no other can.”
Alburet looked at the woman he loved and his anger abated slightly. “Kitten, change for me, please. Show him who you are, not what you are because I bound you.”
Stacia became human in guise, “He wishes to protect me and me family, Lord. He be doin’ what ya tried an’ failed to do for generations. Be tha’ nay what ya truly want? For someone to help the rest understand tha’ ya nay be evil? Tha’ ya only wish for ya children to flourish.”
A ragged sigh came from the throne, “So much like your mother and grandmother. Always pointing out my flaws and pushing me to be better. If I could have known how much her line would influence me over the years I might have had different thoughts. But, one doesn’t control who they love, do they Stacia?”
“Nay,” Stacia said simply. “I did nay know I would be losin’ meself so thoroughly to me husband. But I would nay change it even iffin it meant havin’ all me other wishes granted.”
“As one would expect from my granddaughter,” came a silken purr from behind the throne. A moment later the most perfect woman Alburet could ever have envisioned appeared. Her perfect, porcelain skin was off-set by lustrous black hair that came down past her waist. Her green eyes were emeralds shining with their own inner light. “I am known as Mother,” she greeted Alburet. “I am the First Concubine to the Dark Lord, and mother of those that became the Succubi, Imps, and Destroyers.”
“Stacia’s grandmother?” he half inquired, having already been told as much. “It is an honor to meet you.” He bowed as deeply to her as he had the Dark Lord.
“Hmm, so you are polite and respectful if given the same treatment.” She looked rather pointedly at the Dark Lord, still seated on the throne, then back to Alburet. “Tell me Two-souled, what do you wish most in life?”
Images of Kaylee assaulted Alburet. He kept his face blank as he tried to contain his emotions. “What I want you can’t give me, Mother.”
“Will you tell me anyway, child?”
The words came in a rush, pouring out before he could consider them. “I have a daughter, not by blood, who is broken back in the other world. The only thing I want is for her to be whole again, for her to be able to go back to being the innocent woman she was from before the attack. I want her to walk, to laugh and be happy as she once was,” his voice caught. “You can’t give me that, but it is the reason I came to this world to begin with.”
“To begin with? And why do you come here now?” Mother asked, stepping forward to meet his eyes.
“I have family here,” Alburet replied, his gaze trapped by the green eyes of the Mother as they seemed to swallow him. “I have a wife that I love, friends that I care for, which includes Bob and Tiny. I still hope what I’m doing will help Kaylee, but these others are now part of the reason as well.”
“You are broken child, did you know that?” She stood barely two feet away.
“What do you mean?” Alburet’s chest tightened.
“Let me show you. This is just one piece of your broken mind,” her words were barely a whisper as she stepped so close that her green eyes became all that he saw.
~*~*~
Seamus looked at his attorney, Moore Moorehead, seated across the table from him, “I didn’t know we had a meeting today, Moore.”
“We didn’t,” Moore said, his eyes serious as he looked at Seamus. “I didn’t come about your case, Seamus. I came on behalf of your father.”
“Dad? What does he want this time?”
“It’s what he wished to leave you,” Moore replied, his eyes going sad. “Your father died yesterday, Seamus. Your mother found him in their bedroom. I’m so sorry to have to tell you.”
Seamus’s face went slack as the words hit him like an anvil. “What? You can’t be serious, Moore! I talked to him three days ago. He was fine! He said he was getting better…” Seamus felt like there was a knife in his chest, stabbing and twisting where his heart should be. “This is a joke, right? Tell me you’re joking!”
“Seamus,” Moore said calmly from across the table. “Calm down, please. No, it isn’t a joke. I am sorry. Your father left instructions that I was to be the one to inform you in the case of such an event.”
Seamus felt cold all over, “But how? Why?”
“The doctors think it was another heart attack. We won’t know for sure until the results come back. He tasked me with giving you a letter that he had left with his will.” Moore placed a single sheet of paper on the table before Seamus. It was folded in half, with his name on it.
Seamus reached for it, his hands shaking while his chest tightened. He picked it up as if it was a snake about to bite him. He opened the fold and began to read the last words he would ever receive from the man he idolized above all others in life.
Son,
I know you won’t be happy to get this from Moore. Know he only does as I ask him, do not blame him for being the messenger. It is simply my time, the Lord has taken me home to be with your grandmother and grandfather. I never thought you would end up in a prison, more so after you took on the life of service as a guard. You always listened to what I told you and have been truthful and forthright in your life. God knows your heart son, and knows why you slipped to the path you’re on now. Know I don’t hold any bad will for what you did. You only wished to see a bad man pay for his sins, you should have known that is God’s place and not yours. Even so, you did what you did out of love for another and no father can be mad at his child for loving others, even if it costs them everything they hold dear. Before the end you need to accept a God, that is the only way to salvation, even if it isn’t the God I’ve tried to teach you about.
I left a message for your mother as well. I know she hasn’t talked with you and holds a grudge against you, because of my health. It was just coincidence that I had my first attack right after your arrest. She might come around in the end I hope, the Lord only really knows though. Know that even though she won’t talk to you, she still loves you deeply. She cries when she thinks I ain’t watching her, she sneaks into your childhood room and fusses with the sheets as if you might come home any day. So just give her time and space, I pray she will come around for you once I’m gone.
One last thing, I spoke with your friend David a few times since that day. He is thankful for what you did, as he agrees the scum that committed the crime would not have gotten what he deserved. I tried to help him see that God is the only true judge of the soul, but like you, David sees the world as the end of life and not having faith in something greater. Or at least he did, he has been coming back to his faith over the last few months. I will always love you son, and I’ll be waiting for you with the rest of the family beyond the Pearly Gates.
Your loving mortal Father.
Tears dripped onto the page as the letter shook in his quivering hands. “Why did you leave me now? Wasn’t it bad enough that I’ve…” He couldn’t continue, folding into a ball where he sat. The letter crumpled in his hands as he began to cry heavily. His whole body shook with his deep, ragged sobs as Seamus tried to accept that the man he admired most had been taken from the world.
“Sir, we are going to take him for observation,” a guard said as a group of them entered the room.
“Yes, of course.” Moorhead got to his feet, watching the guards unshackle Seamus from the bench.
“Come on, Seamus,�
� one of the guards said as they picked him up. “You need to help us, get your feet under you and we’ll lead you along.”
Chapter Fifteen
Alburet woke, his body covered in cold sweat. He was barely able to lift his head up off the softness beneath it. The effort made him pant. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, “Where am I?”
A hand softly stroked his forehead, “We be in a room at the Dark Lord’s castle, master.” Stacia eased his head back down to her lap, “Ya passed out in the throne room. Mother be sorry for what she did.”
“What I was shown, what was that? That wasn’t one of my memories,” Alburet told her. He could feel himself relax as she continued to caress his head.
“I can answer that for you,” Mother’s silken voice preceded her into the room. “I should apologize first, though. I didn’t understand the extent of the damage you’ve inflicted on yourself. What you saw was indeed your memory, Alburet, a true memory. You broke it away from your conscious and buried it deeply. All I did was reconnect it for you, though I was only able to do so partially due to other damage.”
“That wasn’t my memory, though,” Alburet told her, “Moore didn’t give me a letter from my father when he died. He told me my father died in the hospital from a heart attack. My mother didn’t find his body like that.” He felt an urge that the memory was true, though he didn’t want to accept it.
Mother sighed, “Child, your mind is fragmented. Fragmented by your own will, no less. What you think you know is not always true. What is true has been shattered and hidden away to keep the pain from your own mind.”
“It isn’t,” Alburet said angrily, “I can remember everything that has happened over the last five years without any problem.” He tried to sit up, failing as Stacia gently restrained him.
“Master,” Stacia said softly as she leaned over him so her eyes filled his vision. “Ya trust me. What she be sayin’ is true, ya mind is disjointed. Tha’ be where the nightmares are comin’ from. I have sensed it from ya ever since me change, but I did nay understand until now. While ya was out Mother an’ I talked.”
Alburet froze, “You’re saying that what I know as fact, isn’t?”
“Parts,” Stacia said softly. “Most of ya mind is fine. Ya mind is fractured from a couple of years before ya met me. I can help ya with it, iffin ya will let me.”
Alburet flinched involuntarily, feeling like he’d just been asked if he would like his eyes pulled out. “It can’t mean anything though, right? I mean, don’t people change their memories of stuff all the time?”
Mother’s hooves clicked on the floor as she came to kneel beside them. “Small things, yes. And almost everyone tries to forget the painful things. Your mind, though, is like a broken stained-glass window. Your mind is the worst I’ve ever seen, Alburet Two-souled. Even worse than your Lunari friend, Fluffball. We can’t heal it and help you unless you wish it. Any succubus can aid you, but I think that Stacia would be the best choice. She will gently and slowly piece it back together.”
Alburet shifted slightly away from her, “I’ll think about it.”
“As you wish, child,” Mother said as she stood back up. “I have left the potion that will transform you into a Half-blood Infernal with my granddaughter. If you still wish to make the change, all you need do is drink it. Be aware, though, that it is a painful and unpleasant process. Now, if you will excuse me, there are other guests that require my attention.” Her hooves echoed against the stone floor as she walked away.
“Master,” Stacia said, appearing above him again. “I will nay do anythin’ unless ya wish it. I will do anythin’ to help ya in anyway ya see fit. Know tha’ I worry for ya, ya memories be causin’ ya so much pain an’ it hurts me to see tha’.”
Alburet could see her love and distress as she looked down at him. “I’ll consider it, Kitten. Since I’m already down here, hand me the potion please. Might as well get this unpleasantness over with.”
She frowned but nodded and held out a vial filled with a bright red fluid with black specks floating in it. “It be said this be distilled from the Dark Lord’s blood. It will scour ya veins, shaping ya as it courses through ya body.”
Alburet took the bottle, feeling as though he were in a dream. He was only vaguely aware of the vial coming to his lips as he chugged the vial. His thoughts suddenly blanked as his body arched and a wordless scream was ripped from him.
Stacia clutched him to her as his muscles spasmed. He coughed and felt fluid spew from his mouth, a vivid red gout that covered Stacia’s arms as she held him and whispered into his ear. He couldn’t make out the words. Molten metal scoured his veins, the pain the most intense thing he had ever experienced. The hands holding him strained against him as he bucked like a bull. Two smaller hands on his legs vanished as his legs bucked.
Two sharp pains erupted from his forehead. His vision wavered and shifted as his eyes seemed to almost boil. The scream went on and Stacia struggled to hold him. He felt more hands clamp down on his body as the pain coursed through him. He felt his teeth shift in his mouth and more blood erupted from him.
“Hold on, master,” Stacia’s sob cut through his pain, “it be almost done.”
His heart surged, feeling as if it were trying to break free from his chest. It stuttered, and Alburet wondered if this was how his father had felt before he’d died. His vision swam back into focus, the colors sharper and more vivid than they had been. Just as he could see again, blackness fell onto him like a wall and he was barely able to whisper a few words.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped as darkness claimed him.
He became dimly aware of voices speaking above him and two sets of soft, yet firm arms wrapping him in a tight embrace. He tried to recall where he was and why he had been asleep. His eyes fluttered as his ears began to function properly again, allowing him to make out what was being said.
“Ya could have warned me about how much it would be hurtin’ him,” Stacia’s voice was soft, but clearly conveyed her anger.
“Calm yourself,” the Dark Lord’s voice answered her. “He survived, as do all who undergo the change. It is just unpleasant.”
“I do nay forgive those tha’ hurt me husband,” Stacia seethed.
“Kitten,” Alburet’s voice was rough from all the screaming, “calm. It’s over and I’m okay. Don’t be too mad at him. Pain is just a passing moment to be fought through.”
Stacia turned to look at him, her red eyes filled with worry. “Ya bucked as iffin ya soul was bein’ ripped from ya, master. I feared…”
His hand came up to stroke her hair, “Shh, Kitten.” He frowned, seeing his changed skin but focused on calming the woman he loved. “I can’t die a final death, remember?”
“It does nay make me worry less,” she whispered as she nestled her cheek into his hand.
“I know,” he coughed, his throat still raw. “I need some fluid, Kitten. I also think I should look in a mirror now.”
The succubus version of Stacia held a flask of tea to his lips, “Drink slowly, master.” She held the flask while he drank.
He sipped the tea, grateful that it eased the pain, “Thank you.”
“Our business is concluded for now,” the Dark Lord intoned. “You may stay until you recover. Welcome into the family, Alburet Two-souled. I shall keep my eyes on you.”
“It was a less pleasant way to be accepted into the family than a wedding,” Alburet replied, sitting up with Stacia’s help. His eyes found the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord stood seven feet tall. Black wings enfolded him like a great cloak, concealing most of the man’s body. His face, though, was not what Alburet had been prepared for. Two small nubs of horns protruded from the dark red skin of his forehead. Where his eyes should have been danced two orbs of swirling fire. The Dark Lord’s lips twisted into a smirk as he returned Alburet’s gaze, revealing longer, very sharp looking maxillary canines.
“Not many who are not fully Infernal have ever seen me,” the
Dark Lord intoned. His wings pulled back and were folded behind him. Dark red skin at his extremities that went midnight black at his core was revealed. Alburet’s eyes scanned down the leather-clad legs, surprised to find red hued bare feet instead of cloven hooves. The feet were a rich blood color with talons where the toes should be.
“You’re more human than I expected,” Alburet finally managed to say.
“As are all of my Demon Lords,” the Dark Lord chuckled. “No matter what race they begin as, even Lunari, they always end up looking very similar in the end. Now that we have met, do you regret your choices here?”
“Here at your castle?” Alburet asked.
“No. Here in Alpha World.”
“Not one,” Alburet climbed to his feet, clinging to Stacia and her Copy to steady himself. He met the Dark Lord’s gaze once more. “Stacia is worth any torment. Had I done things differently, I might not have met her and won her heart.”
Alpha Company (Alpha World Book 3) Page 19
