The Incubus Job

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “I’m forbidden.”

  That startled me and it shouldn’t have. It had had a master. That sorcerer had controlled it somehow. Why should it surprise me that he’d forbidden the demon from opening the box, especially if whatever allowed him to control So’la was inside? My brain, which had been stuck in first gear, shifted into second, third, fourth, and fifth in a matter of seconds. The pieces of the puzzle started clicking together.

  I was to open the box, and Law was to use the power of the auberge—of the ley it sat on—to destroy what was inside. I was sure that the contents were how So’la’s master controlled it.

  Which meant if I could open the box and get a hold of the contents, then I could control the demon. I could banish it back to its realm. All I had to do was open the box, claim whatever was inside, and learn to use it, all before the demon snapped my neck, ate my heart, or more likely, slaughtered me like the incubus.

  “Why did you do that to the incubus, anyhow?” I asked. “I thought he was working for you.”

  “Edrell disobeyed me.”

  “You mean when he killed the girl?”

  Hearing a demon snort in derision is more frightening than you might think.

  “I killed the girl then used her body to remind him of his oath to me.”

  “And then you killed him.”

  “He should have followed my orders.”

  “So what was with the bones and the skin on the wall? You taking up body-part sculpture?”

  So’la smiled. This time I almost did pee my pants. “He will not soon rise again.”

  “Soon? He’s not dead?”

  “What you think of as killing a demon merely banishes them from this realm. They may return in time, once they regain strength. It will be quite some time before Edrell becomes whole again.”

  While it’d been talking, I’d been examining the box, crawling around it and looking at it up close. I didn’t recognize the stone, but I wasn’t a geologist either. It was red and black with little flecks of green in the black. The markings made no more sense than they had before. The gold glow inside them pulsed softly. I could feel a powerful energy emanating from it, though whether it came from inside or the locking spells, I couldn’t say. What I could say was that it made my skin crawl. It felt slimy and wrong. Perverted even. It made me want to throw up, and I knew it was going to take all my self-control to touch the damned thing.

  It actually reminded me of when the lich poisoned me. It had been soul-chillingly unnatural. Totally wrong. A perversion. It’s hard to explain what that means, but your body and mind know when something simply shouldn’t be. When something is turning the laws of nature on their head. You revolt against it in the deepest part of you. Horror is the least of what you feel. Your lizard brain—that part of you that is all about survival—claws away your reason and batters at you to run far and fast, dig a hole, burrow down where you don’t even remember who you are. All you want to do is hide and survive. What small fragments of reason remain make you pray desperately for mercy, hoping to hell that some benevolent god answers.

  I swallowed, fighting back the visceral panic chewing its way into the center of my brain. The ghosts tightened around me, and suddenly I could breathe.

  “Why did you pick us?” I asked, twitching a little under the demon’s unblinking regard. “Law and me. We aren’t exactly topping the charts of the world’s most powerful sorcerers.”

  So’la slapped what passed for a leg. “Begin,” it said and the sound echoed like an oncoming freight train. The sound grew, shuddering through me and rocking the ritual supplies on their shelves.

  I’ll admit I’m not always in the most self-preserving state of mind. I’d been and still was scared on a level I could hardly fathom. Worse, Law was still trapped. Right now I had a chance to save him, but I had to be smart and creative and a whole lot of sneaky. Not to mention lucky.

  Given that I held his life in my hands, I should have just ducked my head and got to work. Except that wouldn’t save his life. I needed all the information I could get, and it wouldn’t hurt to knock So’la off its stride. It had clearly planned all of this, probably for a long time. That meant I had to find the weak spot in its plan, or make one. Then bash it to hell.

  So despite my abject fear, I sat still and stared defiantly at the demon. My nose started bleeding, and my heart lost its rhythm. I started to feel floaty, as if I were halfway under anesthesia. I tipped to the side. The orange of the demon’s eyes filled my world. I could feel it sliding up under my eyelids and behind, sending a tangle of sharp little roots into my brain. I couldn’t remember when I’d let my shields drop.

  Whispers filled my mind. They spoke in different languages, none of which I understood. Aching hunger filled me. Not for food, not for sex. This was a different craving. It spread through me, demanding to be filled. My arms and legs moved of their own accord. All of a sudden, I was on my feet and running. I didn’t know where. I crashed into a wall, spun around, and started running again. I watched myself from someplace far away. I felt the pain of smashing myself against the walls, but I couldn’t stop. Worse, I liked it. I wanted it. I needed it. So’la was completely in control. I’m sure the demon wanted me to fight it. I didn’t. I wasn’t suicidal—yet—but it was throwing a tantrum and giving in wouldn’t get me anywhere. I could feel its frustration and fury bubbling through its hold on me.

  I knew a lot about frustration and anger and losing control. It was my greatest fear. I’d left my partnership with Law because I’d been scared spitless of freezing up or worse at the crucial moment and putting him in danger. I’d made choices that could kill me, and that was my right, but I didn’t have a right to involve him in my risks, and I sure as hell wasn’t willing to.

  On the other hand, I had a lot of experience with losing my shit and having my spells explode in my face. Sometimes literally. I knew how important emotional control was. So’la had plotted and planned for its freedom. It was desperate with hope and eagerness. It wasn’t that tough to turn those into insane frustration and fury. Law had always told me I was pretty good at pushing his buttons. I’d put the skill to good use now.

  “Begin!” the demon shrieked. “Or I will flay away your skin. I will rip the bones from your flesh. I will drink your blood, and you will watch.”

  It was dead serious, and I’ll admit that should have made me nervous. It probably would have if my terror level weren’t already pegged in the red. Plus, I knew it was playing the same head game I was—trying to drive away my control and break me. Knowing that, and the fact that the demon would likely kill Law and everyone else in the auberge if I didn’t stop it first, let me keep my cool. Or at least I didn’t totally fall to pieces. It didn’t hurt that I took a lot of satisfaction from pissing it off. Childish, I know, but I get my rocks off when I can.

  “You know you’re this close to killing me,” I said when it let me stop ping-ponging the walls. I held up my forefinger and thumb about a millimeter apart. My hands were red, and a couple knuckles were swollen. “I thought you wanted me to open the box. My bad.”

  I hardly heard the creature move. The swing of its arm was a blur. I flinched in anticipation of pain, but it clasped my shoulder in a surprisingly gentle grip. Scorching heat ran through me. It didn’t hurt. The demon let go, and I took stock of myself. It had completely healed me. I wasn’t even tired.

  “Neat trick.”

  “Begin,” it said. “Or I will bring you to the brink of death again and again.”

  Didn’t that sound fun.

  I sighed. “Why did you pick Law and me?” When So’la made a growling sound and red flames rippled over it, I figured I was making progress toward pushing it over the edge. I lifted a hand to calm it down. “It might help me figure out what to do,” I said.

  That was about one percent true. Maybe two. Mostly it gave me time to think, it irritated the demon, and it gave Law more time to escape his trap. All good things.

  “How will it help you?”<
br />
  “It might tell me why you think I can actually open the box. And as long as you’re being helpful, you might tell me what the spells on the outside actually say and tell me how you came to be chained to this particular family of sorcerers and why you triggered the shutdown shields on Effrayant.” The last was a wild guess, but it made sense. Or rather, nothing else made better sense.

  “I was chained in the usual manner for my kind,” it said.

  “I’m afraid I’m not terribly familiar with demon summoning,” I said. I did know a fair amount about getting rid of the bastards. I’d banished at least fifty in my career. I’d even carved some spells to help me do just that. I had a feeling it would take more than those to get rid of So’la. “Why did they pick you out to turn into their pet demon?”

  That seemed to offend the demon. It straightened, its wings stretching wide. One had a rip in its leathery surface, about the size of my hand. I wondered if it could fly. “I am So’la! Prince of the Twelfth Legion, Lord of the Karnath Sands and Pasivan Fields, Commander of the Nebbeth and the forty dominions of Leian’obe.”

  “Impressive.” A prince. That wasn’t good. Royalty translated into serious magical power. At least I knew the proper pronoun to use for him now. Though apparently he was into wearing women’s bodies, so maybe he preferred being called a she. No. Too confusing for me now. I focused.

  Being a demon prince meant So’la wasn’t stupid. He was probably a brilliant tactician as well. You didn’t accrue territory and influence in the demonlands if you didn’t know what you were doing.

  “Okay, so you’re a demon bigwig. What did they want you for?”

  The obvious answer was to have their own demon slave at their beck and call. I was hoping for some details on what sorts of powers he had. There had to be thousands of demon princes and rulers and lords and such. Why had his master chosen So’la in particular?

  I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that surprised by the answer, as miserably unhelpful as it was.

  “It was foretold.”

  Well, crap on a cracker. Of course it was. Pretty much So’la had won the sucks-to-be-you lottery. Congratulations. Here’s some confetti. Now wear these shackles and be my slave. “Sorry.”

  Maybe it’s weird to commiserate with a demon who just spent the past few minutes threatening and torturing you. Law probably would have washed my mouth out with soap. I couldn’t help it, though. It wasn’t fair and while I don’t like demons much, I also don’t think they deserve slavery.

  I guess So’la, too, thought it was a pretty bizarre thing to say. His mouth opened and closed without a sound. I’d made a demon speechless. Go me.

  “What did your master make you do?” I asked.

  I wouldn’t swear on it, but I thought I saw the creature flinch. It had to be bad if So’la’s not-so-tender feelings had been hurt. I thought for a second that he wouldn’t reply.

  “Children.”

  One word. A flare of silver pain ripped through me. I staggered and dropped to my knees. In that moment, Tabitha grabbed my brain and I saw, no, I lived what she’d lived. There was So’la, drenched in blood. The demon held a lump of bloody flesh in his hands, tearing at it with unbridled ferocity. His eyes were nearly black with pinpricks of orange at the center. At his feet sprawled bodies mutilated beyond all recognition. I could barely tell they were human. They’d been torn apart. Jagged ends of bones stuck up from chunks of meat. Fingers littered the ground, along with bits of ears, noses, lips, and feet.

  I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. Tabitha couldn’t. So’la ate what he held then faced me. Faced her in the memory. The demon strode forward. After that—

  I passed out. When I woke up, I was back to myself with So’la bent over me. I twisted and vomited. Over and over. I couldn’t seem to stop. The images hammered me. The remembered feeling of razor talons slicing through Tabitha’s skin—my skin. We were one and the same. We couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. He hadn’t allowed us to pass out. The pain was endless. I felt my skin peeling away then the rush of cold air into my stomach cavity. I felt claws inside me, pulling out my organs, scraping my insides.

  The smell oppressed me. Blood, body waste, and something else . . . sulfur maybe. And incense. A heavy smoke swirled thick in the air. It coated my mouth, nose, and lungs. It rubbed caustically on my skin, itching and burning.

  I felt the demon’s tongue. It licked up my blood. It made slurping sounds. I wanted to die. Please let me die ! But I couldn’t. Next came snapping of bones and the tearing of flesh. It seemed I could not feel any more pain or terror, and yet I did. More and more and more.

  I came back to myself again. I was crying. Big, jagged sobs. I felt Tabitha beside me. I wished I could hold her. I wished I could take away what had happened.

  So’la had knelt beside me. He put his bone-stick hand on my shoulder—the same hand that had torn Tabitha apart—and gave a little shake.

  “What’s happened?”

  I wiped my face on my sleeve and forced myself to sit up. I’d spent entirely too much time on my ass as it was. I should have lied. I should have told him to fuck off and die.

  “They didn’t just make you kill. You butchered. Tortured. You ate them.” I hesitated. “You liked it.” It was true. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to kill children, but he’d enjoyed the feast of both flesh and fear. Maybe he hadn’t had a choice in what he did, but that didn’t mean he fought all that hard not do to it.

  The orange eyes widened, and for a moment, the creature’s expression looked almost lost. “Can you not regret what gives you pleasure and destroys your soul?”

  Abruptly he leaped up and strode away in an odd, jerking gait, his feet making clacking sounds on the slate.

  “You have a soul?” I shook away the question. Unimportant. “So you got off on it, but didn’t want to. Is that it?”

  “Isn’t that what meth addicts feel? Drug addicts? One step down a dreadful road and you cannot turn back.”

  “So quit.”

  “I am trying.”

  I climbed to my feet, at the same time evoking my shields.

  So’la laughed. “Do you think those will save you from me?”

  “I guess I’ll find out.”

  He thrust out his hand, and flames plumed from his fingers. They engulfed me. Showy but hardly effective. Not if he was trying to hurt me. I didn’t bother suppressing them. My shields kept me cool enough, and I’d designed them to block demon fire. It’s a pretty basic weapon in any demon’s arsenal. I expected more of So’la the great and fabulous prince of whatever and lord of blah blah blah.

  The flames died. Next came a swarm of flying bugs the size of hummingbirds. They had green fangs, red eyes, and hooked feet. Their wings were almost transparent and they massed together like bees. They weren’t any more effective against my shields than the flames. Was So’la holding back? Why?

  The swarm vanished. When the next attack didn’t come right away, I realized the demon wasn’t giving me his full attention. He was distracted. That could only mean . . . Law. He was trying to escape, or was somehow attacking So’la from another angle.

  “I need chalk,” I said to my ghosts. “Quick.” I shot a couple of quick bolts of magic at the demon. They hit his shields and exploded in sparks.

  Just then a fat piece of yellow chalk was shoved into my hand. I gripped it. So’la rounded on me, pointing and muttering. Oily red and black smoke spewed from his hand. It rolled toward, wrapping around my shields, and hiding me from sight. It also tried to crush me. I strengthened my shields as I bent down and scribed two circles around myself. Damn. I needed to get the box before I went any further.

  “Edna. I need Law to hit So’la hard. Can you go tell him?”

  She didn’t answer but I felt her leave me. It wasn’t even a minute later when So’la howled. The smoke around me started to dissipate. I ran for the box. Bright blue light surrounded the demon. It crackled with cold. So’la was probably from a fire or earth clan, which m
ean he hated the cold.

  I didn’t waste time watching but scribed two concentric circles around me and the box. I drew runes in between, chanting all the while. The slate offered a smooth surface for drawing. When I’d finished, I touched the inner circle and whispered a command. Silver light spun around me, lighting the runes and both circles on fire. I smiled and let my personal shields drop. I didn’t want to waste energy on them. The ward circle was tied to the bones of the earth. It would take a lot for So’la to break it. I was hoping he didn’t have what it took.

  I considered what to do next. The fact that Law wasn’t here meant that he hadn’t fully escaped. The only good way I knew how to get him free was to get inside the box and use whatever was inside to order So’la to release him. The thought of it made me sick. I tried to draw the line against performing compulsions, but sometimes it was necessary. Like now.

  The demon had been certain I could open the box. But how? I sat down with it in my lap. I turned it over. Something knocked around inside. There was no latch of any kind. I couldn’t see a crack for the lid. The damned thing didn’t even look like it opened. I doubted throwing it on the ground would help. It was likely protected against brute force. That left cunning and thinking outside the box. Pun totally intended.

  I traced the symbols. There was a malevolence to them. A hunger. Would they respond to blood? That might be the key. The blood of the master or his family. That seemed a little too simple, though, and stupid. An enemy might cut off their fingers or heads just to get into the box. No, this was hungry for something else.

  The answer came to me before I even could think. I knew I was right. Having seen what So’la had been made to do, I knew what the box wanted: sacrifice. It was what I’d expect of masters who told their demon to torture children. It might want the death itself or the soul or even the heart of the victim. None of which I had handy. Not that I would ever be willing to even think of going there.

  Law, I reminded myself.