Succubus

by Brandon Varnell

  Green and red eyes slowly slid shut. Christian’s breathing evened out, and his body relaxed. Out of instinct, or perhaps need, his left hand sought out Lilith’s, and he laced their fingers together.

  As Lilith’s hand unconsciously tightened around his, Christian fell asleep, his mind growing dead to the world around him.

  ***

  Darkness had descended upon Seal Beach as Christian and Lilith walked up the stairs and stopped in front of the door to her apartment. Her blond hair shifted over her shoulder as she turned to face him. Blue eyes sought his with an unwavering gaze.

  She smiled at him, and Christian felt his heart stop. He then felt it speed up far beyond what could be considered normal while at rest. A hummingbird had replaced his heart, and it was beating against his ribcage at a hundred miles per minute.

  “Christian.” Lilith’s voice, soft and angelic as always, made his attention focus completely on her.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to know that I’ve been having a really great time with you these past few days.” A pair of small, delicate hands reached for his, clasping them in a surprisingly firm grip. He had never noticed it before, but her hands were tiny compared to his own. And as they slid into his, he couldn’t help but marvel at how they felt, as if his calloused digits were being caressed by the softest silk.

  He searched her face. Lilith’s smooth, unblemished skin truly was flawless. Her eyes, large and innocent, were enchanting, vibrant irises of the purest blue. Even her nose, that cute little button nose, was breathtakingly attractive in ways that a nose simply shouldn’t be.

  “I know this seems strange, but despite how we haven’t known each other for very long, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Like a part of me has always known you, and was simply waiting for you to arrive in my life.”

  His eyes strayed to her lips. They were moist and pink. As he took in the sight of those perfectly shaped lips, his mind conjured images that he would have never thought of before meeting this woman.

  My arms wrap tightly around her body, pulling her against me. Despite both of us being clothed, I can feel her against me. The contours of her hips, the feel of her flat stomach, the swell of her bosom as it presses against my chest. All of this I can feel, and it nearly brings me to delirium.

  Her eyes, which had been staring into mine, slowly flutter shut as she tilts her head upward. Her lips part. She’s waiting, waiting for me to make the next move.

  Slowly, I lean my head down…

  “Christian?” a voice called to him. “Christian?”

  “Huh? W-what?”

  Blinking several times caused the images to vanish. Lilith still stood in front of him, looking expectant.

  “Are you okay? You were staring off into space?”

  When he didn’t speak, she worried her lip.

  He shook his head, opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

  “I… I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Without even waiting for Lilith to respond, Christian walked down the stairs and onto the street.

  “C-Christian? Wait!” He heard her call out to him, but Christian didn’t wait. His walk became a run. Even as his mind yelled at him for being a coward, he ran. Even as his heart felt like it was being stretched the farther he got from Lilith, he ran.

  What’s wrong with me?

  There had to be something wrong with him. That was the only explanation that he could come up with. These thoughts, these feelings, these desires. They couldn’t possibly be his.

  For a moment, he wondered if perhaps these strange urges and feelings were being caused by Lilith. Maybe she really was a succubus in disguise.

  He dismissed the thought a second later. There was no way Lilith could be a succubus. She had no aura, and she still feared men. Any man that was not him, at least. He should know, as she had used him as a shield more than enough times when they were together.

  So then, all these thoughts, all these feelings, did that mean they were his? But how could he feel this way about someone, about anyone? He had never wanted someone like this before. Never felt this kind of desire for someone else before. His body craved Lilith’s touch, it wanted to feel her body pressing against it, to feel her lips on his own. It was frightening, how much he desired her. It also disgusted him.

  Lilith already had enough men lusting after her. Everywhere she went they ogled her, stripped her bare with their eyes. Some even tried to take advantage of her, not content to stare at a distance. More than a few men had been on the receiving end of his fists this past week.

  He was supposed to be different. She trusted him. She felt safe around him. She had told him so during their second day out together.

  It was sickening. He was such a hypocrite. Even though he was supposed to be different from those other guys, he was just like them.

  Winded from running so far and for so long, Christian leaned his back against the nearest building, and slumped to the ground. His teeth were clenched as his chest heaved, and tears of frustration threatened to leak from his eyes.

  Guilt set in. What was he supposed to do now? How could he face Lilith again when he felt all these desires and urges welling up inside of him?

  He couldn’t. The thought of facing her like this, of seeing her with these disgusting and amoral thoughts running through him was abhorrent. He couldn’t face her again now that his mind and body were beginning to betray him.

  These thoughts of guilt and remorse were interrupted by footsteps. Moving at a slow, measured pace, the sound of booted feet thudding against concrete made Christian’s ears twitch. Each step became louder than the next. They were coming closer.

  Christian looked up as a shadow covered him. Silhouetted against the light from a nearby lamp post stood a figure clad in a dark-red cloak. The face was hidden by a cowl that created a layer of darkness that couldn’t be penetrated by the eyesight of a simple human.

  That cloak…

  Christian only had enough time for his eyes to widen in recognition before the figure’s left hand shot out, and five thin strands of wire glinting in the light of the moon were launched toward him at incredible speed.

  Chapter 20

  Upon seeing the thin metallic strands flying toward him at near-blinding speed, Christian reacted with reflexes honed by years of training and life-and-death combat. His body moved long before his mind could catch up to the events happening around him. Using both his hands and feet, he pushed off the ground and wall, and tucked his body into a roll.

  The wires came into contact with the surrounding surfaces he had been resting against seconds later. Belying their thin size, each wire left a deep, long furrow in the wall, showing that these weapons were not just unique, but also impossibly sharp.

  “Who are you?!” Christian demanded, his glare set firmly on the person before him. All thoughts of Lilith and his own self-loathing were pushed aside. He couldn’t afford distractions.

  The figure—man, woman, he didn’t know but decided to simply say his attacker was male for convenience’ sake—attacked him again. The right hand made a gesture that caused the wires to shoot straight at him like bullets fired from a gun. Christian leapt backward to avoid being eviscerated by the thin wires. He slid along the ground, coming to a stop several meters away.

  “I recognize that cloak. You’re a member of the Assassins. Why are you doing this?” Christian’s demand went unanswered as his attacker came at him again. As thin wires were launched at him once more. Christian skillfully dodged each attack. His hands twitched toward his guns, hidden within his coat, but he didn’t take them out. Not yet. He still didn’t know what was going on.

  Christian was so busy focusing on dodging the obvious attacks, that he never saw the one coming in from his blind side until it was too late.

  Pain erupted from his back as something hard and sharp struck him. His body rolled forward, traveling with the strike to help mitigate the damage. It allowed him to avoid being bifurca
ted, but the attack still tore into his back, which stung as the cool night air hit it. He felt warm blood leaking down his skin, and knew that he’d only survived because his Orichalcum guns blocked most of the attack.

  He jumped back to his feet and ran to the left, circling the person before him. His guns finally came out as he realized that talking to his attacker wasn’t going to work. Now was not the time for hesitation.

  Gunshots rang out, sounding obnoxiously loud in the stillness of the night. Christian winced as the noise pierced his eardrums. There was no way people hadn’t heard that, but it was too late to stop now. All he could do was keep firing and hope that he killed this new enemy before someone came to investigate.

  Reacting in an amazing display of swiftness, precision, and dexterity, the cloaked figure raised his hands and manipulated his fingers. The moment the gunfire sounded out, nine wires appeared in front of him, moving so fast they appeared as flashes of light. The wires moved faster and faster until the flashes converged into a seemingly solid form that took on the shape of an oval. Less than a tenth of a second later, the bullets slammed into the shield of fast moving wires and were sliced to pieces.

  Christian’s eyes widened. Now that he had a small moment to catch his breath, he could clearly see the weapons his enemy was using. They were a pair of gloves, one black with silver veins running along its surface, and the other silver with black veins. Attached to each finger were a set of strings, and on the back of each hand was the crucifix of the Catholic Church, with the number XIII embedded in the center.

  He recognized those weapons. Among the Executioners, there were thirteen members who, due to the distinction of their service, had received personalized weapons designed to suit the wielder’s personality and style. Handguns and swords were his. These gloves belonged to another—Anthony Trekovski.

  They were called Uriel and Barachiel. Like his own weapons, those gloves were made of Orichalcum. The wires were not only indestructible, but also sharp enough to cut through any substance known to man, including diamond. Only another object made of Orichalcum could withstand their bite.

  Christian’s bullets were made of silver and steel.

  God would surely forgive the expletives that he released, given his circumstances.

  “Is that you, Anthony?” When the man didn’t respond to his question, Christian lost his patience. “Answer me, dammit!”

  His answer came in the form of nine wires flying at him. Christian moved, his feet taking him backward. He zigzagged back and forth across the alley, dodging razor-sharp wires as the red-clad figure manipulated them to attack. Those wires he couldn’t dodge were knocked aside by his guns.

  A wire came in for his head, threatening to slice the top half of his cranium clean off. At the same time, four more wires came in from either side in a pincer maneuver. Another two shot straight at his chest in an attempt to pierce his heart. While he couldn’t see them, Christian was almost positive that there would be at least another two coming in behind him. That was nine. This meant there was one more wire hidden in the wings. Would it come from below or above?

  Acting with the kind of speed born from adrenaline and desperation, Christian reacted to the threats coming in from all sides. He leaned back to avoid the first wire that whizzed by a little less than a centimeter from his nose, close enough that he could feel the tip grazing against his skin and slicing through the outermost epidermal layer. Almost immediately after he dodged the blow, he twisted his body, turning it in a full rotation. His arms extended as he spun, knocking away the four wires coming in from his sides. The two that threatened to stab him in the chest were dodged when his body rotated enough that he presented a profile view to his enemy. The gun in his left hand, Gabriel, came up and swatted the wires away for good measure. Meanwhile, Phanuel lashed out and smacked the wires that tried piercing him from behind.

  It was in that moment, just as he finished dealing with the last wire, that the one his enemy had hidden came into play. The ground in front of Christian split, a thin crack appearing as a wire emerged from the ground. Christian had no idea how this person garbed as an Assassin managed to hide his weapon underground like that, but he didn’t bother asking questions, or trying to come up with answers. He merely reacted.

  Gabriel slid back into its holster and a second later his knife was sliding out of its sheath. The knife was made of silver, not Orichalcum. It could not stand up to the wire. That was okay. It didn’t need to. While Phanuel struck the wire and knocked it aside, Christian threw the knife at the red-cloaked figure with unerring accuracy.

  Christian observed how the Assassin manipulated his fingers to bring forth the wire shield that had protected them from his gunfire. Even as the dagger was sliced apart as if they were made of soggy paper, he couldn’t help but admire the complexity of the maneuver. He could only imagine how dexterous someone’s fingers needed to be to use such a move.

  He tried to escape, but a yank on his arm that made him stumble forced Christian to look down at his gun. Wrapped around the barrel was the wire that he thought he had knocked away. It appeared his enemy had been prepared for him to try using a distraction in order to escape, and responded accordingly. While he had thrown the knife, the figure had manipulated this last wire into wrapping around his gun while he’d been distracted by the shield. Ingenious.

  Not ready to give up just because he had been outmaneuvered, Christian pulled on the arm holding Phanuel, hoping to yank the other figure off balance. If this person was who Christian thought he was, then his strength should be the greater of the two. Assassins were not the most physically able, which was why they were sent to kill creatures that relied on illusions and deception instead of martial combat. He should be able to easily overpower this person in terms of strength.

  He was not.

  Mouth dropping as the figure before him didn’t budge an inch, Christian let out a loud yelp of astonishment when the cloaked figure yanked back. The force and strength of the pull was such that Christian couldn’t maintain a firm stance. He was yanked forward and thrown off balance. Eight of the nine wires not attached to Phanuel were then launched at him in a straight-forward, frontal assault. This person obviously thought they had finished him, but Christian wasn’t ready to concede defeat.

  Rather than allowing himself to be pulled along, Christian rushed toward his adversary, regaining his balance by shoulder rolling along the ground and kipping up to his feet. He quickly moved past the wires, which were manipulated to curve around and pierce him from behind. He could tell from the way the Assassin’s fingers moved.

  Christian had already noticed several weaknesses in his adversary’s fighting style. One of them was that they could only control the strings via the tips of the wires. They couldn’t move the rest. Or they could, but doing so ran the risk of causing their own weapons to get tangled up in each other. They probably could make the wires move more freely, but that would likely require them to use only two or three.

  This person was using nine.

  Christian’s body moved faster than it ever had before, as he forced the muscles in his legs to work overtime. Faster. Faster. He picked up more speed. His muscles strained and still he moved faster. His legs felt like they were going to tear and he moved faster still. His breathing came out in sharp, pained gasps.

  And still he continued increasing his speed.

  Then he was there, right in front of his enemy. He still couldn’t see the upper portion of their face, just the lower. Their jaw was strangely delicate for a male’s, and their mouth was set in a grim, emotionless line.

  Time to change that.

  Reaching behind him, Christian pulled out a flashbang. He pressed the small button on the top, and shoved it directly into the figure’s cowled face.

  And then Christian was moving past him. His body sliding along to the right, gliding across the ground. His now free hand dug into his coat. He pulled out Gabriel and pulled the trigger, firing half a dozen bullets. The bull
ets didn’t penetrate flesh. The wires arrived and made that shield again.

  That was fine, so long as they didn’t destroy the flashbang.

  A second later Christian ran out of the alley. A second after that, the flashbang went off, lighting the entire alley with the brilliance of a sun. A loud cry like the yowling of a vengeful spirit then emerged from that same alley. Christian felt a grim smile tug at his lips.

  He ran down the street. All around him, he could see lights turning on and hear shouting from nearby buildings. He didn’t know what they were saying, but he could imagine the topic.

  His ears picked up another sound, too. Sirens. Someone must have called the police, who were now coming to investigate.

  This isn’t good.

  He couldn’t afford to get caught, and he couldn’t let his enemy get caught. Not by the police. There was no telling what kinds of chaos that would unleash.

  He ducked into another alley, his feet splashing through a puddle. Christian ran swiftly to his apartment. If he could just reach his apartment, then he could grab his swords, and deal with this new threat.

  Several times, he was forced to double back as cop cars sped down the street, sirens blaring. It looked like they had brought out the entire police force. Judging from the way they were circling the area, Christian determined that they had not caught the figure who’d attacked him.

  That was fortunate. The police were used to dealing with mundane problems, not ones of a supernatural nature. What’s more, the police force of Seal Beach was one of the least experienced in California because of the lack of real crime in their city.

  Seconds later, an explosion rent the air. Christian’s head snapped to his left, where a large plume of fire and smoke rose above a building, the sight and sound bringing up distant memories that he wished to forget. The direction of the sirens changed as all the cop cars converged on that location.

  He felt like swearing. One of the police cruisers must have run afoul of the red-cloaked figure and been destroyed. That explosion was probably from their car getting sliced apart and the fuel ignited by sparks that were emitted when the wires struck the engine.