Son of a Succubus Series Collection

by Dorie, Sarina

  Not only had he failed, but he’d kissed her while her mind was still like an innocent child’s. What if she had kissed him back with passion? He would have mistaken that for her soul returning when all it might have been was his incubus touch magic stirring up desire in her.

  Lucifer brought her back to the cottage for morning chores. He wore his guilt like a yoke around his neck. Every time her hand brushed his as she joined him to carry water or she gave him a querying look as she helped him make porridge, his burden grew heavier.

  While he prepared breakfast, Lucifer didn’t greet Kelsie as she brought in kindling. He stared into the fire. Abigail poked him in the shoulder, but he didn’t look at her.

  “What’s wrong with you this morning?” Kelsie grumbled. “Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

  Lucifer didn’t answer.

  Abigail threw her arms around Kelsie and kissed her on the mouth. Lucifer covered his face with his hands, horrified to see what he’d taught her. They would all know he’d kissed her and accuse him of taking advantage of her.

  “Save that for the oak trees.” Kelsie pried Abigail off her. “They won’t mind your slobber.”

  Baba’s eyes narrowed. Lucifer couldn’t hope what he’d done would go without her notice. If she hadn’t divined it in her crystal ball, tea leaves, or weavings, she would read his guilt in his face.

  At any moment he expected her to chastise him. They settled down to breakfast when it was ready. He could feel the reprimand coming. The tension built, a simmering unease under his skin about to boil over like water in a cauldron. Instead of waiting for it, he decided to come clean. That way, he could ask for guidance.

  “I have been trying to help Abby remember our past, but nothing has worked.” He stirred his porridge. “This morning I thought Abby remembered, so I . . . kissed her.”

  “Pervert,” Kelsie muttered. “If you—”

  Baba silenced her with a glare. She turned back to Lucifer, the venom melting away. “Memory is not same as soul. Is it her soul you want or for her to remember you?”

  He’d assumed Abigail’s soul didn’t remember him because it wasn’t housed correctly in her body on account of him—or because he’d waited too long.

  Baba went on. “Former headmistress of Womby’s School for Wayward Witches came to speak with me once about student with partial soul removed by Raven Queen. You remember her visit?”

  He shook his head. Baba had had so many visitors over the years, some wanting their fortunes told, others needing healing or advice.

  “The student’s memories were not diminished by lack of soul. Only his ability to care about others.” Her lips curved up in cunning smile. “Do you know who this boy was?”

  Lucifer wasn’t certain he’d ever heard about this boy. He supposed Baba had dealt with the physics of souls before. His brother, Felix, had mentioned that removing the souls from children could cause them to act as sociopaths.

  A bit of porridge clung to Abigail’s lip. Lucifer dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “What happened to the child?”

  “It is not important. He is fine now.” Baba waved him off. “You have your own problems. “There is one thing you have not tried.”

  He swallowed his guilt. She would say his incubus magic. He didn’t want to use it and take advantage of her.

  Baba said, “You can turn her into tree.”

  He straightened at that, surprised by the direction the conversation had taken. The pressure in his chest eased. This was a topic he could handle.

  “If I turn Abby into a tree—or help her turn herself—she might not want to change back into a human at all.”

  He’d been successful turning her hands and feet into tree limbs while she’d been asleep, to heal the fingers and toes Baba had cut away for her spells. It had taken a mastery of skill to control her growth and recede the twigs and leaves to return her to being human. She’d been asleep and passive for that. If she was an active participant, she might not want to be human again.

  On the other hand, Baba was correct; he hadn’t tried this method yet. Turning her into a tree and fully using her affinity would be much closer to bliss for her than simply using plant magic. Indulging in such contentment might be what she needed.

  But turning into a tree wasn’t like when he turned into a cat. He was still conscious and thinking. It was his ability to retain thought that helped him hold on to his humanity. Very likely, it was the only reason he hadn’t lost his soul in the thirty years of being a cat, unlike the year and a half she had been a tree.

  When Abigail had told him how it was for her to be partially changed into a tree as she had done when she’d been sixteen, she said she had been lulled into a meditative state. She’d experienced all the senses of the forest, but she hadn’t needed to be active. She’d simply soaked in the sun and rain and took joy in the experience.

  Baba leaned back in her chair, a glint in her eyes.

  Lucifer didn’t like it when she got that look. “Please say you aren’t suggesting that because you want to chop off Abigail’s fingers and toes again. It wouldn’t be right. She can’t consent.”

  One silver eyebrow shot up, almost reaching her red kerchief. “There is old proverb: Before you look at splinter in neighbor’s eye, take log out of your own eye.”

  “What does that mean? I haven’t hurt Abby.” Unless she meant trying to put her soul back into her body—incorrectly.

  His shoulders sagged with shame.

  Or Baba might mean kissing her. That made him feel even worse.

  “Be what will be, turning Abby into tree is good skill for her to learn to heal herself. Otherwise someday, she might have accident and not know how to mend herself.”

  “I’m not ready to teach her that lesson yet.” He wasn’t ready to see Baba hurt her. He wasn’t ready for Abby to potentially return to a tree permanently and for all hope to truly be gone.

  Giving Abigail pleasure and happiness, and trying to remind her of all the joys she had once loved, weren’t enough. He didn’t want the catalyst that sparked her memory to be pain, but so far, the only thing that had planted a seed of who she was in her brain was Coinneach.

  There was nothing like a former lover one had inadvertently killed to resurrect a past full of grief.

  Lucifer didn’t want a painful memory to be her cure, but he feared there was nothing else to try.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A Refrain from Memory Lane

  Lucifer constructed the golem out of felled wood Abigail helped him collect from the forest. It wasn’t difficult keeping the wood woven together using mud and earth magic he’d been practicing. He had a harder time finding a stag’s skull, the closest thing he thought he might be able to use to replicate the shape of Coinneach’s inhuman face. It was hard to believe Abigail could have once fallen in love with such a monstrous creature, but then, Coinneach had used an illusion to make himself appear as a young man when Abigail had first met him.

  That, and Abigail had a great capacity for love in her heart.

  Abigail helped him build the replica of Coinneach, her hands weaving slender vines through the creation to bind the limbs together. She gave no indication that she knew what the creation was supposed to be, but together they formed the figure’s hunched and spindly form with branches protruding from his head and ferns growing along his back.

  “It’s kind of like building a snowman,” Kelsie said, joining in to weave twigs together for fingers.

  It took days to complete.

  Baba didn’t say she disapproved of his creation, so that was something. She taught him the magic to animate the golem. In truth, it was more like working a puppet than a homunculus a Fae or masterful Witchkin might have made. Such a creature would require more practice and skill.

  Lucifer pulled at invisible strings, making his sculpture walk toward Abigail. She clapped her hands in delight.

  Lucifer pointed to the replica.
“Coinneach,” he said. “Do you remember him?”

  She looked to him quizzically and turned back to the sculpture. Lucifer pulled at the strings and beckoned to her. Abigail stepped in closer, squinting at it.

  Lucifer held his breath and waited. She hugged the golem and kissed his cheek before releasing him. She pranced off to an oak tree and hugged the tree and kissed it. Lucifer called for her to return.

  When she took the golem’s hand, she pulled on the arm too hard. It dislodged from the body. Sticks and twigs held together with dirt and magic fell apart.

  Abigail dropped the arm and then giggled. She pushed at the golem, and he toppled over into a pile of sticks. Like a child delighted by the act of pushing over blocks, she laughed harder.

  That hadn’t gone as planned.

  On one hand, he was relieved she wasn’t afraid of the golem as she once had been with the real leshi. Coinneach didn’t haunt her while she was awake, and that meant the guilt and sorrow she’d felt from destroying those he loved were less of a burden. But that past, and the wisdom that accompanied it, made her who she was.

  Those memories had to be locked somewhere inside her. Maybe Lucifer wasn’t enough of an artist to capture Coinneach’s appearance. The sculpture wasn’t enough to help her. He needed to try harder.

  Lucifer thought about taking her to see the Fae trap, but quickly dismissed the idea as folly. Too much could go wrong. She could get snatched and eaten. They would have to use portal magic and the Fae might follow their trail back home and hurt Abigail later. He wasn’t ready to resort to such drastic measures.

  At least, not yet.

  Abigail kneeled before the pile of twigs, using magic to sprout new growth from wood that he’d assumed was dead. Strawberry vines intermingled with white flowers. Abigail smiled proudly as she wove the vines into a mass of knots. There was magic in the cluster, but he wasn’t sure what kind and what she might make. A prickle of something dark laced through the vines.

  He was too busy watching her fingers, trying to guess what she might do.

  “Lucy,” Kelsie whispered. “Isn’t that a dog rose?”

  He followed her pointing finger. It was a dog rose. That didn’t mean leshi were near. It was a forest. Not every patch of shamrock meant that leprechauns were around.

  He scanned the trees anyway. About thirty yards into the forest, just off the path, he spotted movement. Trees and shrubs shifted, but Lucifer couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary until he allowed his gaze to relax and he used his true sight. Green shimmers prickled his vision to the right, giving away the Fae source. It was dark and simultaneously bright. He knew this magic.

  A hunched figure ducked lower into the foliage. The twisted twigs growing from the skull-like head were barren of leaves, looking far more like Coinneach than his golem had. Inside the hollows of the eye sockets golden light glowed.

  Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat. A leshi was here.

  Watching them.

  Lucifer hauled Abigail to her feet, not taking his eyes off the creature. If Kelsie knew it was there, she would probably act rashly and do something foolish. She might endanger herself as well as Abigail.

  He couldn’t let her know he’d seen it, and he couldn’t allow her to go after it either.

  Lucifer kept the leshi out of his line of sight, but he didn’t dare look away completely, or else it might sneak up on them. He kept his voice low, not wanting the Fae to hear. “I will dispose of the wild rose. You and Abigail get back inside. Start packing. Tell Baba we need to go to a different forest.”

  “Why do we need to pack? We haven’t even gotten to the best part of the season.” Kelsie studied the trees. “Are there leshi here? Is that where the rose came from?”

  “Go. Right now.” He barked out the words.

  Kelsie and Abigail both flinched back.

  “Please. Go,” he said more quietly.

  He waited until they were gone before he activated the electrical magic in his core and pushed it under his skin. It was difficult to do after having gone without fueling himself for several days. He could see he would need to make time to do this in the future. Electricity was the surest way to protect Abigail against Fae.

  Lucifer stepped toward the leshi. It twitched back. The creature moved in jerking movements, more like a startled rabbit than with the lithe grace leshi used.

  “Who are you? What do you want from us?” Lucifer asked.

  The leshi opened its mouth, but the sound that came out was more like the scraping of twigs against bark than a human voice. “I am hungry,” the leshi said, backing away.

  Yes, Fae were always hungry.

  “For my flesh? Is that what you mean?” Lucifer asked, trampling through the thicket to approach. He gathered up more magic.

  The leshi turned and ran. Lucifer chased after the Fae, but it only took a moment before he lost it. He could have followed the trail of magic, but he didn’t want to travel deeper into the forest and fall into a trap. His responsibility was to Abigail and Kelsie and ensuring they made it back to the cottage safely.

  Was this the same leshi that had followed them from the other forest, or were there more out there? It was hard to say which was more dangerous, an abundance of leshi or one specific Fae who was stalking them.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Baiting Unicorns

  The new forest they found was already in the midst of summer when they arrived. Muggy heat crept into the cottage, making them all lethargic. Kelsie complained about why they’d needed to change to a new location for no good reason that she could see.

  Baba sat knitting in her rocking chair, not deigning to answer.

  After gardening and lunch, Abigail was more interested in playing in the dishwater than helping wash cutlery with Lucifer or assisting Kelsie with preparing dinner. She splashed at Lucifer. The heat made him crabby, and he shook his head at her.

  Abigail leaned closer to him and pointed to the cookie jar.

  “You just ate,” he said. “You don’t need a biscuit.” He was surprised she actually didn’t mind Kelsie’s attempts at baking.

  The clicking of Baba’s knitting made a rhythm as she worked. Today’s blanket was blue as the sky, but it didn’t seem to be any longer than it had been the day before.

  Abigail pointed again. He pretended not to notice as he scrubbed a plate. She circled her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. From the way she massaged her fingers into his scalp, he could have believed she was an adult and remembered who she was. She brushed her lips against his. He wanted to melt into her touch but resisted.

  She pointed again to the jar. The clicking of Baba’s knitting faltered.

  He pulled away, his face flushed with heat. “Fine, get yourself a biscuit. But only one.”

  Abigail smiled happily as she retrieved a cookie from the jar. Lucifer pretended he didn’t notice her sneak the second one into her apron pocket as she nibbled on the first.

  Baba cackled from her chair. “She has you wrapped around her little finger, nyet?”

  “No,” he said.

  Kelsie scooped vegetable peelings into a pile and shook her head at him. “For being as old as you are, sometimes you’re more daft than she is.”

  Abigail took one of the spoons he’d just finished washing and tapped it against an empty pan, singing tunelessly in the way children often did.

  Baba groaned. “Can old woman not get peace and quiet? You take her to stream and wash bedding today.” Her eyes were dark and bruised, attesting to the old woman’s lack of sleep.

  Lucifer gathered up the bedding and placed it in a basket, Abigail following him around like a puppy.

  “Are you going to help me?” he asked.

  She shook her head and made a face. He took her to the stream and showed her how washing was done. Abigail helped him until she grew bored and waded into the water instead.

  “Don’t go too far,” he said. “And not too d
eep. You’ll get your dress wet.” He thought he sounded like a mother hen, like she had with the two girls she had raised.

  He considered how there was never enough time for magic when he was busy babysitting her. He’d improved in potions, healing, and plants, but he was also going to need to work on his affinity. There had to be a spell for memories. If only he had the book he’d loaned to Gertrude.

  A minute later Abigail slipped on a rock and fell into the stream. She shrieked and flailed.

  “You’re in two feet of water,” he said. “You aren’t going to drown.” More likely she was cold rather than afraid.

  He yanked off his shoes and waded in after her. The moment he pulled her out, she wrapped her arms around him, shivering.

  He set her on a large rock beside the washing. “Sit here.”

  She clung to him and wouldn’t let go. He patted her back.

  This was going about as well as any other outing, taking five times longer than it should have. He would have little time left over after his chores to study any practical magic to better his skills using his affinity. He couldn’t help Abigail if he couldn’t learn advanced magic. And he couldn’t learn as quickly as he needed to while she was stuck in this infantile state.

  If only he had listened to Baba and not woken Abigail. Everything would be so much easier. He wouldn’t be burdened with taking care of her.

  He chided himself for that thought. Of course he’d been right to wake Abigail. Baba wasn’t mutilating Abigail’s body for blood or flesh in her spells. She was safer from trolls and pervey dukes.

  He unhooked her arms from around himself, trying not to snap at her. “I have work to do, Abby.” He didn’t like losing his patience and speaking sternly to her, but it was all that would make her listen.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and made a face at him.

  Eventually she grew bored of sitting on the rock and explored the forest nearby. He continually glanced over his shoulder to make sure she didn’t wander too far.

  “Lucy!” Abigail squealed in excitement.