by A. H. Lee
Jessica looked up to find the dance floor almost empty and strewn with discarded masks and clothes. Breathless courtiers were collapsing on couches or running out into the garden, many of them wholly or partially naked. Some ran in pairs, others in long chains hand-in-hand. Undressed and unmasked, it became clear that the group consisted of every skin color in the kingdoms, along with a variety of body sizes and shapes, and yet they were all lovely, all delighted with each other. Any sense of self-consciousness had evaporated in the face of Mal’s strange magic.
And mine, thought Jessica.
“I want to play hide-and-seek in the hedge maze!” someone shouted.
Jessica heard a splash. “There’s a pool?!” someone exclaimed.
“Yes, of course there’s a pool!”
The orchestra started again—lighter and more playful. Jessica looked up at Mal. He was grinning at her. What a patient creature you are. Jessica sat up and straddled his lap. “No wonder you wear people out!”
With his mask off, she could see the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smirked. It was ridiculously cute. “Not you,” he said. “Not like I’d wear out a mortal.”
Jessica’s dress had bunched up to her hips. Mal slid a hand between her legs, running his fingertips over her wet panties, teasing her hyper-sensitive lips. He had that look on his face she remembered from the first time—almost vulnerable. Nobody does this to you.
Jessica let his hand play up and down her panties, warming her up again. “Bright magic demon?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You need consent?”
Mal leaned up and kissed her neck—open-mouthed kisses that let his tongue slide hot and wet over her skin. In between kisses and speaking quite close to her ear, he said, “I consume consensual sexual energy. Energy created by forced sex is repellent to me. A very bad taste.”
Jessica tilted her head back. His teeth grazed her throat—feather light, but it made her shiver. “So…that duke...”
Mal paused and grimaced. “I can smell that sort of thing anywhere in my territory. It is repulsive to me.”
“I don’t think I ever actually said thank you. So thank you.”
Mal snorted. “No thanks needed. I would have done that for anyone.”
“Even Azrael?”
Mal rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me started on him.”
Jessica bent her head to kiss those full, dark lips. Her pussy was beginning to ache again. Mal slid his arms around her, his hands coming to rest on her ass, pulling her gently forward. Jessica rocked her hips against him, rubbing her vulva against his cock through his trousers. Mal growled. His hands on her ass tightened.
Jessica pulled away a little, her head higher than his because she was straddling his lap. She tried kissing her way down the side of his throat. Let’s see if he likes this as much as I do.
He certainly did. Mal tilted his head back, rough bristles under Jessica’s tongue, dark curls falling into her hands, the firm contours of his throat beneath her soft mouth. She pressed her hips against him, stroking his erection with her body, and Mal made a sound somewhere between a purr and a whimper.
Jessica felt an exquisite hum of energy over her skin. This time, she didn’t think Mal was pushing it at her. If they were playing tug-of-war, he had just dropped his end of the rope. For a moment, Jessica struggled with the instinct to just drink it all in, to take and take and take…
Stop. Jessica choked down on the current of energy. It felt wrong, using a very new and unfamiliar muscle, but she did it.
Mal tried to smile through his panting. “That’s…what you want to do…with humans.” He leaned forward suddenly, arms tight around her, bringing their bodies snugly together, and growled, “But you don’t have to do it with me.”
He pulled hard on that invisible rope. Jessica understood instantly why humans might allow an incubus to feed on them. She climaxed convulsively against his cock, no hands needed, her toes curling with the force of it. The tiny part of her brain that hadn’t turned to mush noted how dangerous this could be: the more energy Mal took, the better it felt. Some people would beg him to kill them.
His hands were between her legs again, under her panties, and this time, she did not feel over-sensitive. She just wanted more, more, more…
Mal had unfastened his trousers. He did not seem to have on underwear. Jessica began to grind her wet pussy against his exposed cock, but he eased a hand between them again and tugged on her panties. “Do you like these?”
“Right now I hate them.”
Rip!
And then she was riding his cock, rocking back and forth in the cushioned loveseat. Mal’s hands were everywhere, cupping her breasts and ass, her shoulders, her face. Jessica sped up. Mal’s cock was hitting some point of exquisite pleasure inside her, sending little shudders through her belly and thighs.
He was babbling against her neck, delightfully incoherent. “Jessica, Jessica, I can’t…”
“Then don’t.”
He shuddered in her arms as he climaxed. Dimly, from somewhere in the garden, Jessica heard a cry of pleasure, another from across the room, and then another. They were awash in a vibrant sea of delicious energy, better than wine, better than anything—bright magic.
Chapter 19. Empathy and a Conscience
Sometime after four in the morning, Mal strolled up the stairs into Azrael’s apartments in the upper east corner of the palace. Few people would have guessed that this was where the sorcerer actually lived. Anyone accidentally wandering into the little suite of rooms would probably have mistaken them for a servant’s quarters. There were no murals on the walls, no molding or gilded surfaces, no painted ceilings. The lamps were plain, the rugs worn, the furniture austere.
However, a closer inspection would have revealed a certain hominess that was absent in the rest of the palace—a tattered, but comfortable chair by the fireplace, a pair of much-abused wool slippers beside the bed, a sturdy table stained with tea-rings. As with any space inhabited by Azrael, there were books everywhere—stacked beside the bed and on the dining table and on shelves around the sitting room. However, no grimoires were housed here. As far as Mal could tell, there was no logic to the books Azrael chose to keep nearest him—storybooks, poetry, history, memoirs, biographies, even a few cookbooks.
He was reading something that looked like a biology text, propped on the skull of an extinct frost bear, when Mal stepped through the door. Mal’s permission to look like a man ended at the threshold of these rooms, and so he came in panther form, pushing the unlocked door open with his nose.
“Aw, you waited up for me,” drawled Mal. He knew he sounded a little drunk. He was a little drunk. “You really shouldn’t have.”
Azrael looked at him over the top of his book. “You kept that party going late. You must have been hungry.”
Mal stretched languorously in the middle of the room. “Sooo hungry.”
Azrael cocked his head. He was wearing a shabby burgundy dressing gown that he tended to pull out when he was feeling sick or couldn’t sleep. “I take it you’re fully recharged?”
“As charged as charged can be.” Mal was becoming distracted by his own twitching tail. This happened sometimes when he was in cat form and he was feeling a little tipsy. Normally, he repressed the undignified urge to chase it wildly in circles. But fuck it.
He was startled out of his ridiculous self-indulgence by Azrael’s laugh. Mal glanced up, round-eyed, tail between his paws, “What?” He couldn’t remember the last time his master had laughed at him—not like that.
Azrael looked like he was trying to repress a smile. After a moment, he said, “That young woman, Jessica Charles. You like her a lot, don’t you?”
Mal was instantly wary. He tried to calm his buzzing head. “I suppose I like her well enough.”
Azrael sat back and gave him a look that said, “What kind of fool do you take me for?” “You spent nearly the entire evening with her.”
Mal felt a
little annoyed. Don’t you have some ancient marsupials to study or something? Can’t I get one evening completely to myself?
“I’m not angry,” said Azrael. “I’ve just never seen you show this much interest in a single person. Usually, you spend those parties with dozens of people.”
A stab of real fear froze the euphoria in Mal’s spinning head. Is he suspicious? Have I ruined everything already? He didn’t dare reply, but tried to make his eyes as wide and innocent as possible. He was glad that his panther face was not as expressive as a man’s.
However, Azrael didn’t sound suspicious. He sounded genuinely amused and…something else, an emotion that Mal couldn’t place. “Also, bounding about the hedge maze like a drunken gazelle,” continued Azrael. “That was different.”
Well, now he’s just mocking me. “At least I wasn’t peeking through it like a voyeur.”
Azrael snorted a laugh and looked down at his book. “I’m glad you had a good evening.”
Thoroughly puzzled by this exchange, Mal turned to go into the bedroom and the rug where he usually slept. Azrael spoke mildly behind him, “You know, demons who spend enough time on the mortal plane tend to develop human traits…like empathy and a conscience.”
Mal froze in the doorway. “Surely I haven’t been here that long!”
Azrael turned a page. “I only say so because it’s difficult to fall in love without those things.”
Mal whirled around. “I am not—!” He bit back the words. Azrael was smirking into his book. At that moment, the sly part of Mal’s brain—the part that was always on watch for his master to make a mistake—pounced.
He thinks he knows what’s going on! He thinks I’m falling in love with a human! He thinks that I could care about humans! Mal stared in wonder at the intoxicating vision of Azrael coming to exactly the wrong conclusion. This had never happened before. Azrael was always a step ahead of him, always thwarting him, always in the way.
But not this time. This time he has completely misunderstood the situation…and it will be his undoing.
Mal forced himself to look petulant. He made a grumbling noise and stalked out of the room with an air of wounded dignity. Not until he was safely curled on his rug did he allow the smugness to creep into his feline smile.
Chapter 20. Azrael Off-Duty
Three days later, Jessica was with her cohort of young people in the garden, learning a complex form of croquet favored by the people of the Cloud Lakes, when her instructor tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss Jessica, you are requested…”
To Jessica’s surprise and dismay, Lord Azrael was standing in the shadow of the hedge a little ways off, watching. Jessica felt a moment of panic. He knows! He’s going to put a collar on me! Or worse!
However, a more sensible inner voice pointed out that she would have been detained by guards if he thought she was dangerous…and wouldn’t he look angrier if she was in trouble? She was puzzled, as she came nearer, to see no sign of Mal. She cast a furtive glance around the hedgerow. To her chagrin, Azrael said, “He’s not with me just now.”
Jessica felt embarrassed to have been so transparent and dropped her gaze. She was wearing a hat tied with a silky green ribbon under her chin. Her matching green and blue sundress fluttered in the breeze. “I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to… That is… You wanted to see me?”
Azrael didn’t respond at once. He was wearing one of his innumerable, well-cut but unadorned black suits, hands thrust deep in the pockets. The sorcerer was taller than Jessica, though not as tall as Mal in human form, and not nearly so broad-shouldered. Up close and in bright daylight, he had a reedy, academic appearance. There were dark circles under his almond-shaped eyes. Jessica wondered whether this had anything to do with why she had not seen Mal in the last few days.
At last Azrael said, “My cat has taken a liking to you. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
It was such an understatement that Jessica burst out laughing. She was pleasantly surprised when Azrael laughed, too. He looked younger when he did that and less dignified in a way that made Jessica want to like him.
He held out his arm. “Walk with me a moment?”
It was clearly not a command, but an invitation, and that made it all the more charming. Jessica took his arm—wiry under the fine fabric—and strolled away from the croquet game towards one of the ornamental ponds. “You’re not angry with me, my lord?”
“Angry? No. A little concerned, perhaps. I know Mal likes you. I want to know whether you like him.”
Jessica didn’t have to think about her answer. “I like him a great deal, my lord.” I think I may be in love with him.
Azrael glanced sidelong at her. “Has he told you what he is?”
Jessica decided to be as honest as possible without giving herself away. “You mean that he’s a demon?”
Azrael looked pleased. “So he’s told you that. Good. Yes, he’s an astral demon, specifically an incubus. Most astral demons have both human and animal forms. I know it is tempting to think of his human form as the “true” one, but neither shape is truer than the other. Mal is a five-dimensional creature, compressed on the mortal plane. He is a bright magic demon, which means that he requires consent in order to feed, but…” They’d reached the pond and Azrael circled it via a path that wound through sweet-smelling cottonwoods. Jessica pushed her hat back to rest against the coil of glossy, honey-colored hair at her shoulders.
Azrael hesitated for so long that Jessica prompted. “But what, my lord?”
“But when Mal wants you to want him…”
“Oh.” Now Jessica understood. “I take your meaning, Lord Azrael, but truly, I do like him.”
Azrael paused to study her face. “The line between consent and coercion can be very thin with an incubus. What’s happening between you is good for him, but I want to make sure it’s not bad for you. I also wanted to make sure that you are not purely amusing yourself with his talents, that you…”
Jessica stared into his dark eyes. He seemed perfectly serious. Are you asking whether I have honorable intentions towards your incubus? Aloud, she said, “That I’m not going to break his heart?”
Azrael looked uncomfortable. “Well, one can hardly promise such a thing, but insofar as possible...”
Jessica was dumbfounded. Mal’s characterization of his master was so utterly at odds with what she was hearing that she threw caution to the wind and burst out, “If you care about him so much, why do you keep him as a slave?”
To her further surprise, Azrael rolled his eyes in a very un-lordly manner. “He told you that? Of course he did. Miss Jessica, if you had partially tamed a dangerous wild animal from a distant land, would you release it into your backyard in order to make it happy? I know he’s charming. For a demon, he’s quite sweet-tempered. But I assure you, he is also quite dangerous.”
Jessica had to admit that this made sense. However… “He doesn’t want to wander the world. He wants to go back to the astral plane.” After devouring you.
“I know.” Azrael folded his hands behind his back and walked on as if gathering his thoughts. Jessica strolled beside him. They reached the ornamental bridge, and Azrael paused to watch the beautifully spotted carp swimming below. “Mal is an aspect of Lust. When he returns to the astral plane, he will rejoin that entity. He will carry with him the knowledge of everything he has learned and experienced here. However, the individual he has become will, in that moment, cease to exist.”
Jessica frowned. “You mean…it’s like suicide?”
Azrael shrugged. “Mal doesn’t see it that way. And maybe Mal is the best judge of his own situation. I have often asked myself whether I simply cannot understand. It is certainly in the nature of astral demons to want to rejoin their entity.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It’s also in his nature to want to kill the person who summoned him.”
Jessica winced. She felt suddenly very sorry for both Mal and Azrael. “How old is he?” She’d been wondering this for a while and w
as a little afraid to ask.
Azrael considered. “I summoned him twenty-three years ago, so…twenty-three. About your age.”
Jessica turned to him in surprise. “But…”
“Jessica, the astral plane from which Mal originates is a five-dimensional space. Time is only one of those dimensions. Asking how old Mal was on the astral plane is like asking how north you are. It’s a meaningless question since you can move freely north to south and back again. There is no time as we understand it on the astral plane.
“In one sense, Mal has always existed. In another sense, he did not exist until I summoned him. Demons from the astral plane arrive with a great deal of knowledge and cunning, but very little real understanding. In some ways, they are like children. Being alive seems inconvenient to them at first and full of little frustrations. Still is, to hear him talk.”
Jessica resisted the urge to pat Azrael’s hand. “You raised him.”
Azrael looked startled. “I was fifteen when I summoned him, so…not exactly.”
This revelation left Jessica completely without comment. You are both much younger than I thought.
“Has he ever asked you to take off his collar?” Azrael spoke with an edge to his voice. Jessica had the idea he’d been waiting to slide this question into the conversation.
“No, my lord.” And it was true. Except… There’s something about me being a succubus that lets him do things he’s not supposed to do. She almost opened her mouth and said it. Almost. But she wasn’t quite ready to trust Azrael that far.
“Good,” said the sorcerer. “You could not take that collar off, and trying to do so might hurt you. If he ever asks anything like that, please come directly to me. I don’t want him to feel betrayed, but he can be a sly creature, and I worry.”
Jessica cocked her head. “Why do you care so much about whether he feels betrayed, my lord? I mean, if demons can’t be changed?”
