by D. D. Miers
I stared at her. "They don't know what you are?"
She'd flushed bright red, all the way down her chest. "It's not exactly something I discuss with them on the regular, no. So, stop being a dick."
I let out a bark of laughter. "A bashful succubus. Never thought I’d see the day."
"I'm not a . . ." She had to force herself to spit it out. "Succubus. I'm a human being."
"Sure, you are, sweetheart." I sat down on a stump and continued working on my crossbow. "You know, I spent a couple hundred years denying what I was, too. Easier that way, at first. But you can't run forever. Embrace it. You're gonna need your powers to steal my blood back from this bastard, anyway. Now's not the time to get all shifty about it."
Arms crossed, she sighed heavily, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Bastian’s back.”
I snapped my head up. “You said Saturday. Why’s he back now?”
“I don’t know, but his assistant came by last night, she tried to get me to go over there.”
“Does he know?” I asked.
She rubbed a hand down her bare arms. “I don’t think so.”
“You said you got out of it. How?”
“I delayed it—I didn’t get out of it.” She crouched down onto her knee. “I think I can still get it, but I’m going to have to do things differently.”
I quirked a brow. “Differently?” An unpleasant thought occurred to me. I set the bow aside and looked up. “You’re planning on seducing him.”
She nodded tersely.
I swallowed down the violent rage stirring my tattoos to life. Ivy was going to seduce Bastian. Possibly screw him, just to get back my blood.
"How? I thought he controls your powers?"
"He doesn't control me," Ivy snapped, even as her eyes widened defensively. "The reason he made me, made my sisters, is because he can't do what I do. He doesn't control it. He doesn't even really understand it."
"That may be." I got to my feet, closing the short distance between us. "But he's going to be at least as resistant to you as I am, right? Now that I know what you are. What you did." I still got a little sick, a little lightheaded, thinking about it. Her inside my mind, crawling around in my brain like a parasite. Now she’d be crawling around in Bastian—and him in her.
"Maybe," she admitted, chewing on her lower lip. I fought to ignore the flare of lust that simple tic brought up in my groin. It's all a trick. It's just a trick.
"We have to assume that," I insisted. "Prepare for the worst. That glamour of yours is a handy thing to have, but no matter how hot Bastian is for you . . ., " I let the rising anger in my throat ebb down, " . . . he's gonna know something is up, unless you really bring out the big guns."
"Fine," she agreed. "Yes. You're right."
"So, you'd better practice," I heard myself say. "And I only know one guy who can resist you well enough to build your succubus-muscles."
What the hell are you doing? Why the hell are you inviting her back into your brain, after what she did?
Ignoring the sensible voice in my head, I stood my ground.
Ivy was already shaking her head. "No way."
"That's it? Just no?" I glared at her.
"No is a complete sentence," she replied. "No. That's it. I'm not playing these games with you."
"They're not games," I told her, shifting my eyes over to her sisters. It was a subtle reminder, but it was all she needed. I still had sway over her. Badass as she tried to act, I could still snap her neck without breaking a sweat. And then there'd be no one left to protect her little sisters.
"This isn't going to help," she insisted. "And it's just going to wear you out."
"You let me worry about that," I grunted. "Come on. You don't want your sisters to see this, do you?"
"See what?" she demanded as I started walking into the forest. "I don't even know what you want me to do."
"You'll figure it out," I replied with a dry smirk. "I believe in you."
Running after me, she panted out a few more halfhearted objections, but she couldn't keep up with the length of my stride and the energy of her outrage at the same time. So much for those super-speed powers.
When we reached another clearing, I stopped abruptly, and she almost crashed into me.
"Feels like you should've seen that coming," I deadpanned.
She glared at me.
"So, you've never used your powers on him before?" I asked.
Ivy shook her head. "I don't see the point . . ."
I silenced her with a raised finger. "But he knows what you can do. He'll be on guard."
"Not exactly," she said hesitantly. Her eyes slipped away from my gaze. "We kind of . . ."
"Go on," I prompted her.
"He's kind of expecting me," she said finally, "to show up at his place. To let him, uh . . . to give him a chance to . . ."
She blushed. What exactly had she promised him? I didn't like the sound of it.
Jealousy churned in my gut. I had no right to feel it, but the green monster didn't care.
“To screw you?”
"Seduce me," she muttered at last.
I almost laughed out loud. This Bastian character sure was high on his own seductiveness, wasn't he? Did he really think he could entice a succubus? How?
Judging by Ivy's expression and the way she dug her toe of her sneaker into the grass, she wasn't confident in her ability.
All the more reason to do this.
Before I could think better of it, I reached out and grabbed her chin. She flinched, but didn't try to pull away.
"Ivy, look at me. You're more powerful than he is," I told her. "You said it yourself, right? He doesn't understand what you can do. He's full of himself. He thinks he owns you. He doesn't. You can go in there, let him believe he's got sway over you, but he doesn't. You've got the upper hand. Not just because of your powers. Not just because of who you are. What you are. You've got the upper hand because he wants you. More than you want him."
My throat went dry. I swallowed hard. If she caught that I wasn't just talking about Bastian anymore, she didn't show it.
"Fine," she said softly. "I'm going to try to get into your head now. Get ready."
She reached out and grabbed my arm. Slowly, I let go of her face. I wasn't sure if the extra skin contact helped or not. But I wasn't going to give her anything to make it easier.
"Look at me," she said. I met her eyes.
Instantly, I was slammed with memories of the night in the casino. The second she saw me, she had that look. I thought it was just her. But it wasn't her—at least, not the Ivy I'd known since then. It was her succubus side. It was her glamour.
But now, I knew what it was. I knew the tendrils in my brain weren't from cheap whiskey. I knew my chest constricted with magic, not loneliness. My heart pounded, and I focused on steadying my breaths. I couldn't control everything, but I could control that.
I pictured a wall. Strong, tall, impenetrable. As far as the eye could see. Disappearing into the horizon. In front of me, nothing but smooth stone rose. My vision was gray. In my mind's eye, I rested a palm on the wall. Steady. Secure. Safe.
Ivy's Mona Lisa smile started to quiver. Her eye twitched slightly, and in the distance, something enticing drifted over the wall I'd built. Something delicious and perfect. Honeysuckle and lavender.
I inhaled, but I wouldn't budge. The wall was still sturdy and real in my head, and I forced myself to imagine the scraping of stone against the pads of my fingers. Anything to hold onto my security.
Ivy nibbled her lip, but I barely saw it. Even though I hadn't broken eye contact, I had somehow broken her spell. My chest swelled with pride. But I didn't show it.
I stood there, steady and unmoving, just like my wall.
Suddenly Ivy gasped, groaned, pitching forward and almost collapsing against me. I caught her, shaking myself back to reality. It might have been a trick. But it wasn't. Her glamour was broken. I could feel it disappear like cobwebs in
the wind.
Almost angrily, she pushed herself away from me and stood on shaking legs. "What was that, Dante?" she demanded.
"Child's play," I replied. I was exhausted, too, but I did a better job of hiding it. You didn't last long in my job if you let 'em see you bleed.
"Screw you," she huffed, swiping her sleeve across her forehead. "Bastian's not going to come on that strong. He has no idea what to expect. I'll have him eating out of my hand before he knows what's going on."
"So you say," I replied, gruffly. "I hope you're right, because that was—"
"Pathetic," she said, before I could think of a softer word. "I get it. So, are you gonna let me try again?"
"Catch your breath first," I told her.
"I'm ready," she insisted. "Build your wall, asshole. I'm coming with a wrecking ball."
And then she came at me full-force, not gentle tendrils anymore. No, this was something feral, squeezing around my mind and heart so fast it almost knocked the wind out of me.
I shoved back mentally with all the strength I could muster. Without moving, I pushed at her magic. But my psychic wall wasn't gonna do me much good now. She was was already inside my head.
A black cloud of anger surrounded my mind's eye as I fought her for control. The dark succubus side of Ivy’s magic didn't like being thwarted. The mist slowly morphed into several more tentacles, groping blindly for me in our mental battle.
I dodged. Coughing up smoke in this world or the real one, who knew? And who was to say which one was real, anyway? I struggled against her, ignoring the strange pleasure her touch brought. If I closed my eyes, it was like the warmest, sweetest embrace I'd ever known.
It wasn't just sexual. It was everything. All of me, body and soul, wanted to give in. Ached. I was desperate for more, even as I panicked, even as I drowned.
The real world was starting to fade around me. Shit. No. If I didn't keep at least one foot rooted in reality, I'd lose this fight for sure. It seemed impossible, fracturing my mind in two. One half of me just focused on standing upright in the sunny meadow, keeping my eyes open, blinking, breathing. The other half, fighting for my life against a goddamn sea demon from the depths of a watery hell.
Because, yeah, I was at sea. Somehow, she was even controlling the environment, and we pitched and rocked in a leaking boat. How did she know this would put me on edge? Where did she catch on that slippery wood and the smell of brine would make me panic, make me seek out the comfort of her embrace even more?
Shit, she was good. But I was better.
I'd almost forgotten the most important part. By digging this deep into my mind, she'd left open channels of herself, too. I delved in, slipping free of her grasp just enough to find the crack she'd left open.
At first, she didn't notice. She thought I was surrendering. That moment of triumph, just a little distraction, was all I needed.
Suddenly, I was wading in memories. The shoreline of her subconscious was laid out all around me. It was almost too easy. I saw the form of a man, her father maybe, or no—no, that was too dark a memory, too angry. The bitterness would push her too far back. I kept on searching. I needed something that ran deep, but not too deep. Something she was afraid of. Something she wouldn't be expecting.
And there it was. Lurking in her memories, a small Ivy, frozen with fear in a rundown backyard. Late at night. Nobody home. Just Ivy and the baby—Violet I guessed. Momma was out again, and Daddy, well, Daddy was never home.
Ivy stared at the wolf, and the wolf stared back.
It must've hopped over the fence, looking for food. Maybe chasing some prey. It was an ordinary wolf, I thought, but in the memories of Little Ivy, it was a massive thing with yellow eyes and snarling jaws.
Good enough.
I stepped into its skin like a secondhand coat. Advancing on Little Ivy, I growled, letting the drool run from my massive teeth.
Instantly, reality cracked around us. I was fracturing the connection. Ivy created this world, and her fear was going to destroy it.
The boat capsized, the tentacles shriveled and fell away. I had regained control of my universe. My own mind. It belonged to me again.
Little Ivy let out a piercing shriek, and I threw my head back and howled in response.
Jolted back to the real world, I fell to my knees—head pounding, eyes burning, lungs aching. It had taken every bit of my energy to fight her off. To regain control.
Ivy slumped on the grass in front of me, pale as death, unmoving. I held back my panic long enough to watch her chest for a subtle rise and fall.
Yes, she was still breathing. It was shallow, but it was there. I reached out and shook her awake.
For a second, she stared at me, dazed. Then the outrage came.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded, her voice shaking and slightly hoarse. "I didn't . . . you weren't . . . that wasn't . . ."
"I'm not going easy on you," I replied. "Neither will he."
"Hey, guys?" Brax's voice, faint but recognizable, cut through the trees to the clearing. "Everyone decent?"
Ivy swore under her breath, struggling to her feet. I almost offered her a hand but then thought better of it.
"Yes," I yelled. "We're training."
"Uh-huh," said Brax, jogging closer, his eyes going over our sweat-covered skin. “I've been reading over some of the books I found and . . .” He glanced to Ivy and then me, silently asking if I wanted him to continue in her presence. I nodded.
“Look, it'll be easier to explain if I can refer back to them. Come on."
Groaning softly, I started the trek back to the fire pit.
Why couldn't it wait? My demon wanted to punch Brax for barging in, but I’ve never met a single necronomancer that worked better after being decked by a demon in the throat.
Ivy shuffled behind me, drained but still walking. I was impressed. I'd managed to knock her out cold with my counterattack, but she was already back on her feet.
"You don't fight fair," she muttered as we made our way through the trees.
"No such thing," I replied. "Remember who we're dealing with."
"He's not as bad as you think."
I bit my tongue.
"All right, all right," Brax called out as we neared the camp. He had one book opened in each hand, like he was about to give the world's worst sermon. "Listen. Dante, I know you've never been a big fan of the half-breed prophecy—"
I turned around and started to retreat.
"Wait, wait!" Brax ran after me. "I swear to the gods, Dante, you gotta listen to me. Just this once. Okay? There are too many damn coincidences here, and I don't like it. We need to figure out what's really going on."
"I know what's really going on," I growled. “Ivy stole a vial of my blood to give to her demon-sire because he wants to create some fucked up Frankenstein version of me."
"Reverse engineer your DNA." Brax nodded.
I looked to Ivy. “Correct?”
She leaned back, a snarky grin on her face. “Just so I’m clear. Are we all on the same team now? Sharing information, etcetera? Because if that’s the case, I want my sisters freed.”
Again with the ridiculous negotiations.
“No, you’re on my team, doing as I say. And I expect you to answer—honestly.”
She turned to Brax. "Maybe, that's what he does? That's kind of Bastian's thing?”
Brax went on. "And that's where it gets even weirder. Ivy, your connection with Bastian—how deep does it run, exactly?"
"I don't know," Ivy replied, rubbing her temples. "I mean, he can send out these pulses, these . . . migraines, seizures, I don't know. If I try to directly go against his orders, he can knock me down for the count. It's like some psychic collar. But it only goes so far. And he can't read my mind. Just like I can't read his, not really. I'd have to dig deep. Use my powers on him. And I've never done that."
"Right," Brax said. "Well, do you trust him?"
"Not as far as I can throw him," she replied dryly. "
Why? Do you think he's got something sinister planned? I mean, more sinister than creating a Frankenstein/demon/half-breed army out of bits of blood and teeth?"
Brax inhaled sharply. "You tell me."
He held up one of the dusty old books, spreading the pages open for us to examine. There was an intricate drawing spanning them, showing a massive demon with curling horns and a mile-wide wingspan. Underneath his feet the earth cracked, showing the fires of Hell beneath.
"I'm not getting the connection," Ivy murmured.
"This is . . . well, let's call him Fred." Brax tapped the drawing. "He has another name, but it can't really be pronounced in English or most other languages. Fred's always been somewhat of a mystery. He's tied to the lore about the Apocalypse, you know, the end of the human world as we know it. When the age of man ends, and the age of demons begins."
Jade and Violet sat by in rapt attention. I wanted to roll my eyes and walk away, but, much as I hated to admit it, Brax actually had my attention. For all we'd talked about this stupid half-breed prophecy, he'd never tied it into the legends of the world-ending demon before.
"Sure," Ivy said. "Good old Fred. I think we went to high school together."
"Here's the thing." Brax flipped a few pages in the book. "Right here, there's a reference to the rise of Fred in conjunction with a particular syzygy." He glanced around, waiting for someone to catch on. "That's, uh, that's a Greek word. It refers to a specific lineup of three heavenly bodies. Even back when these books were written, people had the ability to accurately predict coming eclipses, et cetera, et cetera. They knew about the solar eclipse coming next month. When that happens, Mercury, Earth, and our sun will be in perfect alignment."
"Perfect alignment for what?" Ivy asked.
Brax wagged his finger at her. "Great question. I had the exact same thought, because, like, why? We've had tons of eclipses, tons of different celestial alignments. What was so special about this one? And how was it gonna give rise to a special world-ending demon, right? It doesn't make any sense."
"Sure," I cut in finally. "Unlike the usual prophecies."
"I'm getting to the interesting part," he promised me with a hint of a grin. "Okay. I shouldn't make light of it. This is actually some serious shit. But, man, it's exciting to have found something concrete for once. Okay." He took a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. "I started pouring over the demonic lore for some other reference to this particular syzygy."
