Son of a Succubus Series Collection

by Dorie, Sarina

  This was a noble woman. Or some Fae noble’s pet human.

  Lucifer gathered up the bloody rags, setting them in a pile. Now that it was quiet, Baba dozed in her chair.

  “Does the babe look much like her father?” Kelsie asked.

  An unexpected spasm squeezed Lucifer’s heart, and he knew he was still in sympathy with the sensations inside Isibeal. The thought of the baby’s father pained her heart as viscerally as being stabbed.

  “Please don’t make me go back,” Isibeal whispered.

  Lucifer met Kelsie’s gaze. He could only imagine one explanation for her state.

  “It’s going to take a couple days for you to heal,” he said. “Where do you want to go after that?”

  Isibeal swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  Anger flooded through him. It wasn’t her fault she lived in a cruel world. He tried to make his voice gentle, to not scare her, despite the venom in his veins. “Do you have a place you can go? Family?”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Lucifer had once possessed both patience and tact, though he’d lost both in his years as a cat. He was aware there was a proper way of speaking, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it at the moment. “Was it your husband who did this to you?”

  Kelsie shot a dirty look at him as if she thought he was wrong in being so direct. Or for asking at all.

  “He isn’t my husband—the baby’s father. I’m his mistress. That’s all Fae law considers me.” She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I was flattered, of course, that he’d even want me for that. He wasn’t like the other Fae. He was kind to me. He said he loved me.”

  A low growl rumbled in the back of Lucifer’s throat.

  Kelsie reached around Isibeal’s shoulders and consoled her. “But I thought the Fae were desperate to have children. If most of them can’t, why would he do this to you? Are they completely heartless?”

  A sob bubbled up in Isibeal’s chest. “He said I cheated. His kin said it was the only way I could have gotten with child. He couldn’t sire a child on account of him being pure Fae.”

  “Oh,” Kelsie said, her eyes growing wide. “I see.”

  “No, you don’t!” Isibeal’s voice rose. “I didn’t cheat on him. This is his bairn. He wasn’t infertile like he thought.”

  Baba picked her head up, shifted in her chair, and closed her eyes again.

  “Of course it is,” Kelsie said, her tone placating.

  Lucifer suspected Baba hadn’t taught Kelsie about the birds and the bees when it came to Red affinities and all their magic could do. Touch magic cured the Fae Fertility Paradox. Once the father of this child realized his mistake, he would want the baby. He would force Isibeal back into his keeping.

  “It’s not impossible,” Lucifer said. “You’re a Red affinity. You do realize that, don’t you?”

  Fear flooded through Isibeal’s face. “I’m a Celestor.” She covered the baby protectively with her arms as if he were a viper about to strike. “I use star magic. I don’t use forbidden magic.”

  He couldn’t tell whether she was lying and terrified of being caught or she honestly didn’t know what she was.

  “Was the magic I used to heal you and remove your labor pains black magic?” he asked. “I’m a Red affinity. Just like you. That means you can bear a Fae’s children.” If they didn’t beat it out of a woman first.

  She stared at him, mouth agape.

  “Wait, so you can get women pregnant?” Kelsie asked. “Ew. I’m so glad I never slept with you when you put that hex on me.”

  “I never hexed you.” He laughed at the idea of sleeping with her. She was seventeen.

  Isibeal didn’t meet his eyes. She shook her head as though there was a battle going on inside her. “I can’t be a Red. It isn’t possible. They’re all gone.”

  “Not all of them.” he said. His brother, Clarissa, and Vega Bloodmire were a few of the Red Affinities he knew. Soon he expected all the Faerie Realm would know about the resurrection of the Red Court—and those with Red affinities who had been hiding would join Clarissa’s new kingdom.

  “Not all forbidden magic is bad,” he said with a smile.

  Lucifer piled the blankets into a heap on the floor. On the table was a bowl of herbs that had been ground with the mortar and pestle. Three cups of untouched tea remained on the table, attesting to the moment when Isibeal had come in. One of the cups had been knocked onto the floor.

  It was unlike Baba to not be better prepared for unexpected guests. She usually divined the needs of her patients ahead of time. Then again, she had implied he should go to the stream. That had been a discreet hint earlier in the day that he was to fuel his magic, but he hadn’t caught it.

  Lucifer placed a hand on Isibeal’s shoulder. “If we’re to find a safe place for you once you’re recovered, we need to know more about you. Which court is your . . . beau from?” If she said it was his brother’s court, he would demand Felix look into the matter of her abuse. And Vega Bloodmire, for all her feigned indifference, would not allow such a thing to happen in her own court.

  Isibeal hesitated.

  Lucifer didn’t want to pressure her. If she was anything like a cat, the more one wanted their attention, the less they got. He wiped a spot of blood from the table with a cloth that had been left there, waiting as she considered her answer.

  He lifted a bloody rag out of the way.

  A finger rolled out.

  He stared at it for a long moment, his stomach queasy as his mind raced from one explanation to the next. The finger was delicate, much smaller than his own. He cradled it in his hand as he turned back to Isibeal. All her fingers were intact.

  He didn’t have to examine Baba’s hands. This finger was smooth with youth.

  “Kelsie.” His voice trembled, belying his anxiety.

  All her fingers were attached.

  Her eyes went wide, and she swallowed. “Baba said we had to, or Isibeal would die. We just had to keep her strong long enough for you to return.”

  Lucifer clutched the finger to his chest. “Where is Abby?”

  “Godric took her.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Necessity Is the Mother of Pain Magic

  “Where did he take her?” Lucifer asked. What if they encountered mermaids or sirens who would drown them? Or the leshi he’d spotted watching them?

  Kelsie clenched and unclenched her hands. “I don’t know. Baba just said to take her out of the room.”

  Lucifer rushed out of the cottage, circling around the back first. Godric’s horse was tied to a bone post. That meant he hadn’t gotten far with Abigail. He hadn’t taken her home, but where had he gone with her?

  He supposed it had to be someplace far enough not to hear the screams of a woman in labor and far enough for a woman in labor not to hear Abby’s screams. Lucifer shouted her name, but only the birds answered.

  As he unlatched the gate, he noticed the smear of blood. Now that he wasn’t distracted by pain, he was more observant. He hastened across the path. Another drop of blood on a green leaf signaled the direction they’d gone.

  Lucifer halted and used his affinity. He was so tired, and there was little inside him left to use. When he closed his eyes, he could see the forest, wisps of pain spiraling along the path like remnants of smoke. He blinked away the sight and ran forward again.

  As he neared the stream, his fingers started throbbing. A bloody handkerchief had been dropped on the path. Lucifer picked it up. He used the skill he’d practiced earlier, drinking in the pain and storing it for healing.

  Abigail’s moan was his next signal that he was near.

  Godric leaned over Abigail, stroking her hair. She was curled up on her side, one hand draped over his knee and submerged in the water. His voice was a hush as he tried to console her.

  Lucifer collapsed beside her, catching his breath. Pain rose in swirls from where Abigail lay, and he blinked to cl
ear his eyes. In addition to the phantom fire in his fingers, throbbing started up in Lucifer’s hands, shoulders, chest and leg. He sucked it all away, trying to save Abigail from having to feel it all.

  Godric looked up. “I didn’t do it. That witch did. I didn’t hurt her.” The salty crust of tears lined Godric’s tan cheeks.

  Lucifer lifted Abigail’s hand out of the water to view the damage. Four of her fingers were missing. It was worse than he’d realized.

  She was shivering, probably in shock.

  “I’m here now, Abby,” Lucifer said.

  She twitched at the sound of her name, but she didn’t look at him.

  “I’m sorry,” Godric said. “I didn’t know Baba Nata would hurt her. I swear.”

  “I know.” He hadn’t either.

  Lucifer pried her other hand from her middle and examined those fingers. They were intact. He pushed back the hem of her shift and examined her feet. Untouched. Her lack of other injuries didn’t explain the pain he’d felt in his shoulder, chest, and both his hands when he’d first stumbled upon them.

  Godric nodded to her hand. “I brought her here because the water is cold. I thought it would numb the injury.” He was shaking too.

  His reaction to the mutilation was worse this time around than last time. Perhaps because Abigail hadn’t been awake last time. Nor had Godric stuck around to deal with the consequences of using her fingers for magic previously.

  Godric drew back, placing her hand on the rock. He winced as he touched her. Lucifer saw what he’d missed before in his speed to block the pain magic and examine Abigail. It wasn’t Abigail who had hurt both of her hands. Bleeding blisters covered Godric’s palms, disappearing under his sleeves.

  “What happened to you?” Lucifer asked, but he was afraid he already knew.

  “I touched her. I had to.” Godric looked to him with mournful eyes. “I carried her here.”

  Lucifer closed his eyes. His blasted hex had done this to Godric. He’d been literal. Any part of Godric that touched Abigail was now being punished for his good deed in taking care of her.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  Godric wrapped his arms around his knees, wincing again. He didn’t answer.

  Lucifer wanted to undo the hex he’d put on Godric, but he didn’t have time to do so at the moment. “I will heal you, but first I need to help her.”

  One emergency at a time.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A Blessing and a Curse

  Lucifer washed out the bloody handkerchief. Abigail whimpered as he wrapped it around her hand. Had he not been so tired from all the work he’d done for Isibeal, he would have been better at numbing her pain and Godric’s. His rival lay on the rocks, eyes closed.

  He scooped Abby up and carried her to the nearest oak tree he could find. He laid her down at the base. She turned away from him and curled into a ball, cradling her hand to her chest.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he said.

  It was his responsibility to protect her. If he’d been there, Baba would have used his magic instead of her body parts. She was such a fragile creature still, her soul too young and underdeveloped to understand.

  “I’m going to heal you, but I need you to help me.” He curled around her and snuggled close behind her. “You’ve got to change into a tree, Abby. Do you think you can do that?”

  She sniffled.

  He stroked her hair and kissed the back of her head. “Do you understand what I’m asking? This is like when we’re in the garden using plant magic, but we need to make you grow, not the vegetables.”

  He’d tried to help her practice on cuts and scratches, but those were small injuries compared to this. She barely had the attention span to focus long enough, let alone when she was in pain.

  “Close your eyes and listen to the trees. Can you hear the oak tree singing to you?” That’s what she’d once said she heard in the forest, the lullaby of trees.

  She closed her eyes but gave no indication she heard anything. He stroked her arm, drawing the pain away from her hand and into his own body. He was fatigued, and his affinity resisted using so much magic so soon. It wasn’t as easy to process the pain as it had been earlier.

  As soon as he’d numbed the throbbing enough that he was satisfied she wouldn’t feel it, he focused on trying to make her grow. He caressed her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. He’d done this when she’d slept, but he hadn’t known how it could work. He suspected it was more his magic than hers, his body fueling his own pleasure, and he used that to make her regenerate.

  He tried not to think about how young she was, the understanding of a child trapped inside a body that was almost a full-grown woman. If he thought too much about it, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to heal her.

  Even as the tension in her muscles melted away and she leaned against him, her magic resisted his. He couldn’t blame her with how guarded she must feel. He hadn’t been there for her, and those she had trusted had hurt her or allowed her to be hurt. She must feel betrayed.

  Pain blossomed in Lucifer’s hands, chest, and arms. It became more difficult to concentrate on numbing Abigail.

  “What are you doing?” Godric asked, sitting down near them.

  Abigail twitched and opened her eyes. Lucifer couldn’t tell if she’d been trying to heal herself before, but she certainly wasn’t now.

  Lucifer kept his voice soft, trying to hide his irritation. “I’m trying to get Abby to use her magic. If she can turn into a tree—or just partway—she’ll heal.”

  “Oh. She has to shift. She’s part leshi?”

  “I don’t know.” He suspected she’d once used that term, but he wasn’t going to say it, knowing Godric and his sister once had been injured by a leshi. “If you don’t mind, I think this would be easier if you could sit a bit farther away.”

  Godric hesitated. “I don’t know if I should—it looks rather scandalous what you’re—I don’t think you should be alone with her. It isn’t right to kiss her in her current state.”

  “Because she’s simple or injured?”

  Godric sat taller, determination in his voice. “Both.”

  After Lucifer’s concerns about leaving Abigail alone with Godric, the irony of his rival’s concern didn’t escape him. A mixture of gratitude and shame filled him that Godric was willing to speak his mind and look out for Abigail, despite what Lucifer had already done to him.

  “I don’t think you should leave us alone either,” Lucifer conceded. “If you remain, you can ensure I don’t forget myself and take … ungentlemanly liberties.”

  Godric squinted at him, uncertainty painting across his features.

  “But I need you to watch from farther back.” Lucifer nodded to a tree a few feet away. “Your pain is making it difficult to work my affinity.”

  Godric crawled just far enough away that Lucifer could feel his pain in his periphery, but it wasn’t pressing in on him. If he was to heal Abigail as he had as she’d slept, he would need to draw out his own pleasure—with an audience that would hold him accountable for his actions.

  He squirmed closer to Abigail. This time as he kissed the back of her neck, he sank into his affinity, allowing a sliver of that energy to radiate outward. He was careful and controlled as he did so, filtering the red light so that he only allowed pleasure to funnel into her wrist where he touched her and into the hand that needed healing.

  She gasped and shuddered against him. Her body absorbed the energy, lapping it up like a cat might savor milk. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her perfume of the forest. Green motes of magic wafted around her. That seemed like a good sign. He tasted her skin, his teeth grazing the flesh above her collar. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. The question in her eyes was like that of the old Abigail, the one whom he had known for over thirty years.

  “It’s me,” he said. “Your Lucy.”

 
“My Lucy.” Her lips curled upward as she spoke, but there was such sorrow in her eyes.

  He wanted to banish all unhappiness from her. If he could have, he would have removed all memory of Baba taking her fingers. Instead, he’d have to settle for the next best thing: healing through pleasure.

  He brushed his lips against her cheek and planted rows of kisses as carefully as he might plant seeds in the garden. Her smile grew, and she turned closer, embracing him as best she could while he kept ahold of her wrist so she wouldn’t accidentally bump it.

  She pressed her lips to his as though she knew what she was doing. Part of her must have. Hungrily, he devoured her kisses. She draped her leg over his, pressing closer.

  “I think you might be taking ungentlemanly liberties,” Godric said.

  “Kissing wasn’t the liberty I was afraid of.” Lucifer lifted his face from hers. “Kissing is safe enough.”

  Her fingers threaded through his beard, tugging him closer. It was clear she wanted to kiss him. More than that, he didn’t know how much she understood. Her lips met his again, and she sighed. He liked the way she combed her fingers through his hair, the way she snuggled against him, their closeness.

  Magic itched under his skin. He couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. The scent of the forest intensified, warm blackberries ripening on the vine mingling with wet wood. Verdant life lurched within Abigail, wanting to break free.

  His own magic pulsed erratically inside him, mirroring the pleasure he gained from touching her. His affinity was rejuvenated and ready to be put to use. He kissed the back of her injured hand, pushing that magic into her.

  She moaned and nuzzled her face against his neck. Had the circumstances been different, he would have satiated the yearning of his heart with the pleasures of the flesh, but all it took was one look at Godric watching over her shoulder, to remind Lucifer not to do so.

  His presence was a blessing and a curse.

  Lucifer was careful as he squirmed back to make room between himself and Abigail. He guided her injured hand to the ground. The handkerchief fell away. He placed her palm on the earth. The moment her palm touched the moss, the stubs where her fingers had been sprouted. Shoots rooted into the dirt and dug downward.