Incubus Inc. 3

by Randi Darren

  All it would take is branding her later.

  We could question her for information.

  “Fine,” Sam said with a shake of his head. He might have to lean into the “Lord Lust” personality a bit. If only for the safety of himself and his people.

  Even if he didn’t want to.

  That’d be a last resort however. Once he opened up that can of worms, there was no telling who might come calling on him.

  ***

  “I would say you did the right thing,” Irma said softly, her fingers trailing up and down Sam’s back. “Though, not waiting for the city lord, and simply going to his city by ourselves, was probably rude. Especially declining his offer of an escort.

  “But that’s using a Human’s sense of decorum. I’m not sure if that applies in… well… Hell.”

  Since completing the battle, Sam hadn’t had a moment alone to himself. The city lord had hovered around him until they’d left for Klesick.

  Once more, they were sitting in the automaton-pulled wagon. Though this time it was with the inclusion of the once general Demon-Knight. The camp of the city lord was still visible behind them.

  The general’s armor had been dumped in a pile in the corner of the wagon and she now only wore the clothes that were under it.

  “Hell is—or at least in my time was—more a place of deadly intrigue and betrayal. Declining something like that wouldn’t be abnormal,” said Sam, then he turned and looked at the Demon-Knight. “Is it still normal to expect to be betrayed?”

  The Demon-Knight hadn’t really left Sam’s side. Her eyes were always stuck to him and she seemed perfectly happy to just listen.

  “Yes,” she said after a few seconds. “I doubt Hell has changed much at all since your time, Lord Lust. Perhaps for the worse, even, since brands no longer work.

  “Those without a familial brand are untrusted to families, and only those at the top trust those below them through that very brand.”

  “Suppose that answers that,” Irma said with a small nod of her head.

  “Did we ever get your name?” Carissa asked, looking up from cleaning the sword that rested across her knees. She’d acquired it at some point while in the city lord’s camp. Though, Sam wasn’t sure where or how.

  “Abrah Zaelis,” said the Demon-Knight. “House… house Deril, originally, though no more.”

  “Your true name,” Carissa said, looking up from the weapon in her lap. “Lord Lust is your owner, is he not? He should know your true name. Or would you rather he returned you to Timithy?”

  Sam blinked and then looked at Abrah.

  He was curious to see what she’d do. She had indeed sworn her life over to him. That included the ability for him to force her true name out of her.

  Abrah looked more than a little disturbed at the idea of being given to the city lord.

  “I didn’t take his mistress. He sent her to kill me. She was an assassin,” replied Abrah. “I didn’t order her rape, though I did order her to be tortured. Klesick and I were fighting over ownership of the city.”

  “True name?” Carissa prompted again, unswayed by Abrah’s words.

  “A-Abrah Zaelis Bella Catara Deril,” muttered the Demon-Knight, her gaze sinking to the bed of the wagon they were in.

  Sam said the name several times in his head, committing it to memory. It felt like a true name to him, but he’d need to test that.

  “Abrah Zaelis Bella Catara Deril, I command you to speak the truth to me,” said Sam. He felt the appropriate thrum of power over the Demon-Knight for invoking her true name to her. The control over her he gained in knowing it. “Were you fighting Timithy for your own benefit or something else?”

  “My own benefit. I just wanted to be rich,” confessed Abrah while staring at Sam.

  Snorting at that, Sam nodded his head. It was a realistic answer that he couldn’t fault her for.

  “Do you have a home in the city?” he inquired.

  “I do,” she confirmed.

  “Anyone we need to worry about if we stayed there? Husband? Sister? Roommate?” asked Sam.

  “I’m unattached and have no family. Nor do I have friends. I led by virtue of strength and my ability with a weapon,” said Abrah.

  “Great. We’ll use your house to work out of,” Sam said with a bit of satisfaction. At least they’d have somewhere to call home for a time. “Now, when did brands fail? Was it at the same time as the planes?”

  “No,” Abrah said and shook her head quickly. “The bindings failed years before the planes did. Very separate events, but both… equally terrible in effect to Hell.”

  I imagine.

  Bindings were the only semblance of trust anyone in Hell ever had.

  “How’d the bindings fail, exactly?” Irma asked.

  “The Demon Queen did it. We hoped that after the planes failed and she was locked out that the bindings would return, but they didn’t,” Abrah explained.

  “Demon Queen. That’s new,” said Sam, curious now. “And what was this royal majesty’s name?”

  “Jenaphila,” Abrah said with a scowl. “She invaded Hell, captured thousands of Cambion, Demons, and wiped out entire races. There’s nothing left of her or her empire, though. After the planes shut, she never came back.”

  Jenaphila…? Well. That explains why she had so many of my kind.

  As well as all the bound Demons and traps she utilizes them for. Though… it doesn’t explain how she’s been able to convert an Imp into a Succubus.

  Certainly does explain a lot. I had no idea her grasp had extended into the planes themselves. I wonder if the planes being sealed are related to that.

  “Well. That answers a few things I suppose,” Carissa said and slid the now polished and oiled sword into its scabbard. “She’s gone ahead and screwed up Hell almost as badly as she was messing with the prime.

  “I wonder how many other planes she’s gone ahead and wrecked. Is that her plan? Go around and ruin everything one plane at a time? From what we saw happening with… with our little escapade in the south, she’s definitely trying to break things. Right?”

  “Abrah, you’re sworn to silence on all secrets you might hear in my presence,” Sam commanded and then held his brand up in front of her. “Later, I’ll have you take this and put it into yourself. You are now my creature, and you will be branded as such.”

  “Of… course, Lord Lust,” murmured the Demon-Knight. “That’ll not be a problem in the least. I’ll be happy to wear your brand.”

  “Yes,” Sam said, looking back to Carissa. “Mitch is clearly operating either as a reincarnation of Retribution, or as the portfolio holder. That’s why Miles had us save him.

  “And if Jenaphila had gotten hold of him, it’s very likely she could have destroyed Retribution and the scales of justice.”

  “The scales of justice?” Irma asked. “That’s an actual thing?”

  “Yes. And they fall under the purview of Retribution. Mitch is now Retribution,” confirmed Sam. “The original Angel of Retribution likely passed on from the world since Mitch now has the powers inside him. Dormant, but inside him.

  “Those who were the Fates are blind to the world. The planes of Hell are shut. Retribution’s mantle was passed on. No one lives in the High Heavens anymore. Those who ferry the dead gave up on their job. Even the Judge no longer sat upon her throne.

  “The world truly is rapidly falling apart. Now we know why and who’s behind it. Though I have no idea why Jena would want to do such a thing. She’d only destroy herself as well.”

  “I’ve met people who would rather destroy something than let another have it,” murmured Irma.

  “Agreed,” Abrah added, nodding her head. “I’m surprised to find the Demon Queen has a further reach than I thought.

  “Though I’m also gladdened to hear, or at least I assume this to be so, that we are on the opposing side to her. I would be honored to fight against her and her minions.

  “Few of her people exist in He
ll now. All who were found were purged. One is found perhaps every few years, but there is talk that even those who are found aren’t actually from her. Just someone that the city lords wished to get rid of.”

  “Yes, we’ve had our fill of her and then some,” offered Irma. “Now, I have questions. Let’s start with everything Jena did and work our way backward.

  “You said she wiped out races. I’d like to know more about that. As well as the Cambion. After that, we can start talking about the current powers in Klesick city. We’ll need to make deals with people.”

  “I— of course, not a problem. Ah… first, many Demons lost their powers and abilities. Without ever realizing it,” Abrah said. “It made it all the easier for her to take over, since they were dependent on abilities they didn’t know were no longer available to them.”

  Sam looked away from Abrah and down the road in front of them.

  He didn’t really care about the history of the plane. Nor how badly Jena had destroyed it.

  To him, it all added up to the fact that he had created this disaster. He allowed it to occur and now it had run rampant throughout the planes.

  Jena was his responsibility.

  Grimacing, Sam shook his hand and clenched his hands.

  He really wanted to kill Jena now and put the world back to rights.

  Really, really badly.

  Eleven - Substitute -

  When they finally entered the Klesick, Sam found it was and wasn’t what he expected at the same time. It reminded him of time he’d spent in the Holy Roman Empire, though not completely.

  There were quite a few people on the streets doing things that would have made hardened criminals turn their heads. From gambling out in the open, people being robbed by what looked to be soldiers, to prostitutes plying their trade in the road itself.

  Clean, dirty, muddy, wet, or not. There were quite a few in the middle of a transaction— nor did it seem to bother their clients.

  “Well,” Irma said, eyeing a particularly large bull-headed Demon plowing what appeared to be a Cambion into the ground. Watching for several seconds, she turned her face forward again as the automaton passed by the pair. “It’s certainly not what I was expecting.”

  Rolling past a large, fat, bored-looking Pig-Man, Sam realized that he was probably the pimp for the nearby working girls. The soldiers who’d just finished shaking down someone steered clear of the Pig-Man and the working girls as well.

  Dressed in odd looking leather armor, they were Cambion, one and all. Both male and female.

  They eyed Sam and his odd wagon, then looked at Irma and Carissa. It was obvious they were considering shaking him down next.

  Sam turned toward the group and gave them a flat stare. Inviting them to try.

  He would be more than happy to drain them of their Life Essence and leave them on the street. There was no doubt in his mind that Timithy wouldn’t even bat an eye at it.

  “You, st—”

  Before the soldier could finish speaking, Sam’s weapon appeared in his hand. The tip was pointed straight at the man’s nose.

  Sam said nothing as the little wagon rolled along. He only kept the weapon pointed at the Cambion as they passed.

  None of the soldiers moved or spoke. They seemed entirely concerned with doing nothing at the moment.

  As soon as they started to gain some distance between themselves and the soldiers, Sam unsummoned his weapon and looked ahead once more.

  Abrah was directly across from him and watching him. She looked unnerved and curious at the same time.

  “Do… I owe my life to the fact that Timithy wanted me alive?” Abrah asked suddenly. She looked as if she’d just realized something.

  “Probably,” Carissa answered. “Sammy gets a bit of a one-track mind when he’s feeling cornered.”

  Irma only nodded her head, looking away from two more street girls plying their trade next to a building nearby. It seemed that there were a lot of sex workers in Klesick.

  Abrah let out a slow breath and then held a hand out, pointing to one side. “Turn up ahead. Mine will be the third house on the right. There’s only two bedrooms but it should be enough, my lord.”

  “Indeed. It’ll be more than plenty,” said Sam. His only real goal was to hunker down and play sex monster with Carissa and Irma until their hips gave out. He would spend a portion of the Essence he’d gained on supplies, and then use the rest to attack the spell that hung around him.

  Directing the golem, Sam had it turn as indicated. Slowly, they rolled onward until he then had it stop in front of the third house.

  It was a stone-made home with a straw roof. It looked much like any of the other homes nearby and stood out not at all. Nothing gave it any type of uniqueness.

  Which suited Sam perfectly. The less attention they got, the better. He was already sure that as soon as Timithy got back, or perhaps even before he did, then people would come looking for him.

  Carissa and Irma were talking with Abrah, all three having already dismounted while Sam was lost in his thoughts, leaving him alone in the wagon.

  Smirking to himself, Sam hopped out of it and then dismissed the automaton and its artificial harness. The Essence that was left in it returned to him, leaving only the wagon.

  Grabbing the front of it, Sam started to turn towards the side of the house. He figured he could just put it in the backyard of her home. From what he’d seen of other homes, they all had small fenced-in areas.

  “Just leave it out, someone will steal it, regardless. We can get another one if we really need to,” Abrah called back to him as she opened the door. Irma and Carissa entered without a word. “This year’s harvest of lumber was quite good and prices are dropping.”

  Hm. I suppose I’ve really gone completely native on the prime with mortals. Not even safe in the backyard.

  Though… how are they managing to grow trees? Is this more of the importing from other planes?

  Dismissing the wagon from his thoughts, Sam went into the home.

  Inside was a very spartan interior.

  A single table and chair, several chests, a shelf, and a door in the floor that likely led to a root cellar. There were two inner doors that probably led to the bedrooms Abrah mentioned.

  Everything looked semi-maintained. There was no dust anywhere that he could see, but there was a feeling of disuse.

  Of being old without looking so.

  “Go ahead and work at that spell, Sam,” Irma said, walking over to one of the doors. “Carissa and I have enough food for a day or so. We can generate Essence after that to get more.

  “Do what you have to. Our first priority is getting out of here. Nothing else really matters as long as we’re safe in doing it.”

  Sam nodded his head.

  He didn’t disagree with her in the least. She was speaking his own thoughts back to him.

  Taking up the single chair in the room, Sam closed his eyes, and dropped into his Essence pool. There was no way he was going to waste what Essence he had.

  Slowly, he began to direct the Essence to chip and peel away at the sloppy, overpowered spell that laid over him.

  She never really got any better at spellcasting.

  Working steadily, it felt a lot like running a chisel over wood. Scraping off thin slices at a time, only to bring the chisel back and run it along the same path again and again.

  After a time, Sam hit the point where he only had about ten percent of his Essence left. That was the limit that he was willing to reach, but he would go no further.

  After all, Essence was his own life on top of everything else.

  Opening his eyes, Sam blinked several times. The light was long gone and the interior of the home was quite dark. The sounds of people moving in a rush about the city streets had already quieted.

  Though there was no night in Hell, even the cities held mortal hours.

  Clearing his throat, Sam turned his head and looked around.

  No one was around that he co
uld tell. He couldn’t hear anything either.

  “Your wives are sleeping,” murmured Abrah as she stood up. She’d been squatting low in the corner of the room. Next to her feet laid a sword that she’d apparently kept close. “I stayed so I could watch over you, Lord Lust.”

  Taking in a short breath, Sam then let it out.

  He was hungry. Very hungry.

  After spending so much Essence, he’d been looking forward to turning Irma inside out. Then Carissa.

  Using so much Essence always made his appetite run wild.

  “I’m your lord, am I?” Sam asked, turning to look at Abrah. Irma had told him to do what he had to.

  Right now, he was contemplating taking Abrah to the bedroom and running wild on her. A Demon-Knight always had a great deal of stamina.

  Not to mention, that as a Demon-Knight she’d start with a very high compatibility with an Incubus. She’d likely be able to put out a great deal of Essence.

  “You are my lord, Lord Lust, and command my true name,” Abrah confirmed. She lifted her chin up partially, her mouth a flat line. “For no one else would I have surrendered. I can easily best Timithy in single combat and my army was superior.

  “I should be the city lord by virtue of my strength alone. Only to you, would I bow.”

  “Would you bend for me?” Sam asked with a growl in his tone, jumping straight to the point. He was hungrier than he’d realized. “Is your body mine?”

  “Of-of course, I would bend for you, Lord Lust. My body and I are yours to be used,” Abrah confirmed. A slight tremor had been in her voice when she first started to speak, but it had firmed up quickly. “Would you care for me to take you to my bedroom? I’m sure I can accommodate your needs.”

  Brave, proud, violent, and strong.

  An evil Decima? Demon-Knight Decima?

  Could use her. She could work well with Decima and Irene.

  “Yes. You’ll be suitable,” Sam said. He was already unintentionally bleeding out wanton sexual need. He could feel his desire saturating the room rapidly. Popping his control into place, Sam had to mentally slam the brakes. “You can say no, Abrah. I’ll not rape you.”