Undone: Succubus Undone Part 6

by Frost, L. L.

  But which way do I go?

  I turn in a slow circle, scanning the hazy horizon, and see no sign of Victor Hesse or a node of ley line energy. Just ash and clay, the surface of the world so dry and dead that fissures form along the surface and dust rises into the air, riding the heat waves from the sun that blasts down.

  No clouds fill the smoggy orange sky, and no trees live here to offer shelter. Far, far off in a distance I can’t make out will be mountains filled with lava, home to ignis demons like Torch, and in the opposite direction, the last of the demon cities, holding on by tooth, nail, and imagination.

  But here, everything looks the same, with no clue to give me direction.

  I hadn’t considered what would happen if I arrived here and Victor Hesse wasn’t waiting to claim me. If I can avoid a direct confrontation until I have my demons of destruction with me to ensure he’s properly smited, all the better, but I’m suspicious of the sloppiness of his work after all that scheming. It feels more like a trap than an oversight.

  I scan the area around me again, but there’s nowhere for him to be hiding. However much I expect him to, he doesn’t pop out of one of the cracks in the earth like a creepy jack-in-the-box, which leaves me to hunt down the nearest ley line and deal with him at a later date. My demons of destruction are my primary focus, not my battle with Victor Hesse.

  Another screech sounds, coming closer, so I move in the opposite direction, keeping my senses open.

  Five steps in, the pain in my chest flares to life once more, and fresh blood seeps from the open wound. Shuddering, I back-pace and the pain eases, though the wound doesn’t magically seal itself shut.

  Fucking Victor Hesse, tormenting me even now that I’m at the end of his game.

  I try veering to the left, which will set me off course from the incoming akuzal, and the pain stabs through me once more, the blood flowing freely and staining my bra red.

  Scowling, I grab the bottle that hangs around my neck. “Your dad’s a real asshole.”

  The beast pulses against my palm in answer.

  I lift it to eye level, studying the innocent looking red clay container. “I’m going to kill him.”

  The bottle shivers with excitement.

  I skim my thumb over the cork. “You want to kill him, too, don’t you? He’s filled with the type of energy you’re craving. Not this stupid witch magic.”

  The bottle pulses again, like a racing heartbeat.

  Does the beast understand what I’m saying? Or can it just sense my attention and the nearness of its master?

  With no way to know, I drop the bottle to hang between my breasts once more as I turn around and step toward the incoming akuzal. The pain stays at a steady throb in my chest, and the blood slows to a trickle.

  Oh, I see. He wants to make sure I’m properly worn down and consumed by the beast before we face each other. What obstacle course of nasties stand between me and the mortifer demon?

  I flex my fingers, wishing for my claws, and stumble in surprise when my nails lengthen into sharp points. I lift my hands to marvel at the razor-sharp edges, perfect for tearing apart flesh, and my lips peel away from my teeth in a vicious smile.

  So he wants to see his killing machine in action, does he? I can do that.

  When the next shriek sounds, I throw back my head and scream in answer as the akuzal appears on the horizon, a shimmering mirage of liquid black that takes shape as it sprints toward me.

  I pick up my pace, arms pumping at my sides. It’s not hyper-speed, but it’s faster than I’ve been in a long time, and my hair lifts from my back to flow out behind me in a banner of white and blue.

  The akuzal lifts its long nose to the sky, its bell-like ears pinned back against its large skull as its talons rip through the packed clay of the earth straight for me. It moves with liquid grace and predatory intent. A killing machine focused on its target.

  But the thing about akuzal is that they’re dumb.

  At the last moment, I drop into a forward roll, passing beneath the threat of the beast’s front talons to its vulnerable underbelly. I thrust my hands into its unprotected stomach and let its own momentum help in its evisceration.

  Hot ropes of intestine spill out, and I grab fistfuls as I roll out from under the body, dragging its guts with me. Black ichor coats me, making the dust stick to my body like mud.

  Screaming with anger, the akuzal pivots, sharp teeth snapping with rage.

  I dance out of range as I yank harder on the entrails, reeling in the stomach with its small heart attached. I crush it beneath my heel, and the akuzal’s body stumbles and crashes to the ground, the sharp scream cutting off.

  In the distance, another takes up its call, then another, until their screams come from every direction.

  Well, shit.

  Dropping the guts, I turn and run, letting the pain of Victor Hesse’s leash pull me forward.

  I kill the next two akuzal, but quickly realize that every pause slows me down and allows for the larger hoard to close in.

  With no idea how far Victor Hesse will make me travel, I dodge the next monster and the one after. The ground beneath my feet shakes as they change course and follow in pursuit.

  Without hyper-speed, I have no hope to outrun them, but even handicapped without my normal powers, I’m still faster than average and manage to stay out of reach of their vicious talons.

  Dust fills the air and clogs my lungs as I sprint ahead of the growing pack, and my heart pounds, rushing adrenaline through my body. More black streaks fill my periphery, and I push my legs to move faster until I barely register my feet touching the scorched earth.

  In the distance, black mountains rise, belching smoke into the air, and worry flits through me. Ignis demons aren’t predisposed to cruelty, but they are territorial, and they’re not above crushing another demon who crosses their path. But there’s no turning back now, not with death on my heels.

  As I near the base of the mountains, the blackened earth crunches beneath my feet, and rivulets of magma glow from just beneath the surface. The heat in the air intensifies, the ash thickening until it sticks in my throat. I cough and lift a hand to my mouth, trying to block out the worst of it, but I feel my body slowing, the gap between me and my pursuers shrinking.

  Scanning the area, I spot a place where two slabs of stone come together with a boulder at the top, forming a cave of sorts, and I focus on that destination. It offers safety from side and overhead attacks and will reduce the number of akuzal that can attack me at once.

  Shadows drop over me as I pass beneath the stones, but the temperature only grows hotter as the slabs trap the heat inside. Sweat evaporates from my skin, making it tight against my bones, and every breath burns.

  A sharp snap of teeth warns me of danger, and I drop into a side roll. Talons brush over my skin, leaving shallow cuts that sting as the akuzal flies past, not fast enough to change its course.

  Rolling to my feet, I spring onto its back, the hard knobs of its spine digging into me. I grab its large, bell-shaped ears and yank backward, sending it into a tumble of dangerously flailing talons.

  Before it can regain its balance, I grab its skull and twist hard. A sharp crack sounds, but the legs keep moving as it snaps its teeth at me. I break its front legs next, then flip it onto its back and punch a hole through its stomach, dodging its hind legs as I search out its heart and crush it.

  It stills, but more shrieks fill the narrow cave as akuzal fight each other to be the first in.

  I clench my fists and scream back with all my might. I will kill all of them, just as I did before. I will create mountains of their skulls and bathe in their black blood.

  The ground rumbles beneath me, rocks hopping around, and the walls shift, pulling backward as enormous hands rip from the ground to slam down on either side of me.

  I stumble and fall on my ass. Panicked, I stare up at the large slag demon who crouches over me, a cousin to the ignis, but no less terrifying. The stone slabs I t
ook for shelter form its arms, and the boulder on top is its head. The ground rumbles harder, and the back of the cave shifts as the demon pulls its body from the mountain.

  Oh, fuck. I’m screwed. I can’t rip this one apart. I fumble for the magic inside me, for the ability to turn it to dust like I did the council guards in Emil’s office, but that happened through instinct, and the magic slips through my fingers now.

  Why can I only make this work when I’m protecting others? Doesn’t saving my own ass matter enough to trigger it?

  The boulder-sized head rolls with a grating of stone, raining pebbles down on top of me, and molten eyes meet mine. “Go, Life Giver to Torch the Tiny Flame. None shall harm you here.”

  My mouth drops open in shock before I leap to my feet and run. No one needs to tell me twice. Like Gavin said, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Behind me, the ground continues to shake, and akuzal scream their deaths.

  The leash that binds me to Victor Hesse drags me around the outer skirt of the mountain then back out into the wasteland on the other side.

  Or, what should have been a wasteland.

  Where cracks exist everywhere else, here is a small oasis of dead trees, the ashy trunks and brittle branches stabbing toward the sky. The clay earth turns to dark soil that sinks beneath my feet and releases the scent of decay.

  The tug in my chest pulls me forward, deeper into the dead forest that shouldn’t exist here.

  Is this the result of Victor Hesse’s will imposed on the demon plane? Such changes usually take the concentrated effort of dozens of creators.

  My legs tremble, and I stop to rest against a tree and catch my breath. Somehow, the bare branches block out the heat and dust, and I hack out black phlegm, clearing my airway of ash.

  In their hiding place, my wings shiver with trepidation as I look around, the eerie silence pressing in around me. There are no shrubs or foliage to block my view, yet I can see no sign of Victor Hesse.

  As I push off from the tree, the bark scrapes away beneath my palm to reveal the skulls of tiny demons trapped beneath. My gut tightens, and I pull more bark aside, revealing more bodies. The entire tree appears to be made of the corpses of other creatures, and I look around, trying to count the number of trees, but I can’t see far enough.

  How has he done all this and the council guards still not found him? This is like waving a red flag in the council’s face and being ignored. Were they even trying to stop him?

  Anger burns away the queasy feeling in my gut. All the lives lost, all the damage done, and he was here this whole time, creating a kingdom of death.

  The bottle between my breasts pulses, the beast feeding off my rage. Around me, the branches clack together, sounding like bony hands clapping in welcome.

  “Ms. Pond,” a gravelly voice calls from deeper within the forest. “You’ve come home at last.”

  I abandon the skeleton tree and prowl toward the voice of my tormentor. The stench of death grows stronger, filling my nose with the sweetness of rotting meat and the metallic tang of stale blood. I no longer need the pain of the leash to lead me, I could find him with my eyes closed.

  The shadows deepen, the trees growing broader, the dead branches thicker, until they form a canopy over a clearing, the tiny hints of sunlight that peek through dotting the clearing like stars.

  Victor Hesse stands at its center, reclined on a throne of akuzal bodies, his skeletal frame draped over the protrusion of bent limbs and skulls. He wears a pale, ash suite the same color as his flesh and a bandelier of black vials across his narrow chest. The evidence of Torch’s attack still mar his face, blackening his face and turning his hair into a melted helmet over his skull. With the power he holds to build this sanctuary, he could have healed himself, but he wears his scars like jewelry, enhancing his corpse-like appearance.

  His milky-blue eyes watch me approach. “You have not given over to the beast.”

  My lips peel back from my teeth. “I am beast enough for you.”

  “Were that true, I would be delighted.” He slides off his throne to stand in front of it, his narrow body resembling the trunks of the trees that ring us. “But, somehow, I don’t believe that you are suddenly amiable to my proposal.”

  I study the ground in front of him, searching for a trap before stepping closer. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve taken everything from me. What do I have left to cling to?”

  His dead eyes sweep over me, and his lips curl with disgust. “Morals.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Do demons ever truly have morals?”

  “In my new world, they won’t.” His hand lifts to curl around one of the bottles across his chest. “And neither will you, soon enough.”

  As he throws the bottle, I dodge to the side, then dart forward, but he vanishes in a blur of motion I can’t follow. He moves faster than a succubus, but he already revealed that trick when he killed Julian.

  I spin and swipe, my claws raking through the air behind me. My nails graze cloth before he vanishes again.

  “I feel my beast still with you, Ms. Pond,” he says, his voice seeming to come from the trees around us. “Is it in that bottle around your neck?”

  My heart pounds, and I turn in a weary circle, my senses open for movement.

  “It was a clever trick, separating it from yourself, and not a loophole I’ll leave open next time.”

  The branches rattle behind me, and I kick back, connecting with a bony leg. Pain shoots up my heel, traveling the length of my shin. It feels like I kicked a freaking rock, not a bone man.

  Stick-thin fingers graze my breasts, and the cord cuts into my neck as Victor Hesse yanks the bottle free. “Such a vulnerable place to keep something so precious.”

  I spin to find him back near his throne, the bottle clasped in his hand, and my heart pounds harder.

  He shakes his head as he reaches for the cork. “Really, after all this struggle, I expected more from you, Ms. Pond. Perhaps it’s better you’ll have no will left when this is done.”

  “You’ll regret this,” I promise as my hands clench into fists.

  “No, I will relish every moment.” He plucks the cork free, and a rolling mass of anger and hunger boils out.

  For the first time, I see the beast, a twisted amalgamation of akuzal, wyvern, and boogeyman, designed to be the ultimate, terrifying hunter.

  As it lands in the clearing with a physical weight, the soil beneath its clawed feet dissipates, turning once more to clay as the beast consumes the energy used to create this dead forest. More cracked earth appears as the starving beast drags in the power surrounding it, growing in size as its mass continues to solidify.

  “Claim your host,” Victor Hesse commands, throwing his arm out toward me.

  The beast turns as directed, fixing feral eyes on me. The symbols engraved into my body flare to life once more, promising a prison filled with ley line magic it can’t consume.

  The tether that binds us together strengthens, and I step toward it, our eyes locked. Inside the beast, I see hunger and anger, but beneath those instincts, I see a desire for freedom.

  The beast and I aren’t so different, both creatures driven to feed on the energy of others and yearning for something better than what life gave us. It’s lived inside of me, knows the limits of my body, and knows that it is more than what I can offer.

  On the human plane, where food was scarcer, it might have been willing to compromise. But here, surrounded by a feast, the beast pauses.

  “Claim your host,” Victor Hesse commands once more, drawing the beast’s attention to him, a far more appealing meal than anything I offer.

  Victor Hesse grabs another black vial from his bandolier and holds it out before him. Red energy flares in his fist. “I command you to claim your host!”

  “You should have spent more time studying witch magic,” I say as the beast turns toward him. “Domnall didn’t teach you enough. And why would he, when he liked to keep people powerless?”
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  For the first time, Victor Hesse’s confidence flickers.

  Together, the beast and I take a step toward him, and Victor Hesse bolts.

  The beast blurs into motion as well, blocking off his escape. When he turns, I dart into his path. Where I can’t keep up with his new speed, the beast can, and we play a game of cat and mouse, working together to narrow the mortifer demon’s escape.

  Although the beast can reason, it moves more on blind instinct, while Victor Hesse possesses a twisted mind he’s spent years sharpening. The pile of akuzal bodies explode into the air, distracting the beast, and Victor Hesse blips out of sight.

  A crackle of bones comes from behind me, and I spin, but too slow as a skeletal hand wraps around my throat.

  Panic shoots through me, and I drive my elbow back, connecting with stone-hard ribs that make my bones ring and my arm go numb.

  The hand around my throat tightens, cutting off my air. “You’re too young to be clever, Ms. Pond.”

  As the beast shakes its way free of the bodies, Victor Hesse drags me back with him toward the edge of the clearing, using my body as a shield.

  “You just can’t help messing with other people’s business, can you?” he seethes.

  I dig my claws into his arm, piercing through dead flesh and meat to scrape against bone. I never asked for Victor Hesse’s attention to begin with, never asked to become his target in a convoluted game of revenge. The only thing I ever wanted was to live a normal life, baking cupcakes and making people happy.

  My mouth gapes, desperate to draw in air that can’t make it past the vice-like hold he has on my throat. Frantic, I dig my heels into the ground, trying to slow his retreat.

  His other arm wraps around my body, lifting me easily. “You will become my beast, even if I have to cut you open again and shove it inside of you. No baby succubus is going to ruin my plans.”

  The edges of my vision turn gray, the dead forest fading from view. Instead, I see the waiting faces of my friends back at home, feel their determination as they hold their threads, demanding that I succeed, that I return. Then they fade, too, replaced by shadows and mist, and I see Emil, Tobias, and Kellen, pacing in the Between, angry and frustrated at being trapped.