Son of a Succubus Series Collection

by Dorie, Sarina

  He crouched beside her. “Abby? What’s wrong?”

  He wanted to chastise her for leaving the cottage alone, but as she turned to face him, he caught the sight of blood on her face. She flung her arms around him before he could get a better look. A thorny flower in her hair prickled against his chest, but he ignored it.

  He cradled her against his chest. “What happened?”

  She sobbed uncontrollably. He could feel the stinging cuts etched into her face and hands. He held her back so he could look her over. Tears streaked through bleeding scratches on her face. She held out her hands to show him the lacerations. It looked like something with thorns had raked across her skin. Or claws.

  “Did you fall down?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Did someone hurt you?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Who? Godric?” He couldn’t think of anyone else. He scanned the trees for signs of Fae. The Tinaalto family—and the Verde Court—would be after Isibeal. They might have hurt Abigail. Or used her as a distraction to leave Isibeal unprotected.

  “Did you see Godric?” he asked again.

  Her brow crinkled. She shook her head, scattering pink petals from the rose behind her ear. He hadn’t noticed the dog rose before.

  “Where’d you find this?” Carefully he removed the flower from her hair so that it wouldn’t scratch her.

  She didn’t answer. Lucifer scanned the trees. It had to be the leshi.

  “Did you get those scratches from rose thorns?” he asked.

  “No.” She wiped her eyes.

  But someone had done this to her?

  Lucifer projected his awareness, trying to sense if creatures might be there hiding, but he only sensed plants and animals. The remnants of magic lingered, but he couldn’t tell if it was leshi or something else.

  “Let’s go back,” he said.

  She held her hands out, shaking as she gazed at the blood. She lifted her hand to his lips as though she wanted him to kiss it. Probably after the last time he’d healed her, she expected that was how it was done now.

  “We’ll get you cleaned up when we get back.” He helped her to her feet. He placed a palm on the small of her back. “It isn’t safe for you to leave without Kelsie or me. Next time you wait for us.”

  The birds silenced the way they did when a predator stalked nearby. An unsettled feeling shivered across his spine. Someone was watching them.

  The forest was no longer safe.

  * * *

  After Lucifer got Abigail cleaned up and smeared ointment on her wounds, Baba bade them to pack. It was time to move. Lucifer understood the need for being somewhere safe, but he feared the timing of this journey would make the plan he’d set in place more difficult.

  Lucifer had sent Godric to fetch Clarissa and Vega, but now they would never find them. Then again, if Witchkin couldn’t track them down, most likely the Tinaalto family wouldn’t be able to either.

  But that meant Abigail would be put in harm’s way again. Baba would be tempted to use her for pain magic. He would be tempted to use Abigail for pleasure. She was too young to consent to either.

  Two days passed before a fancy carriage from one of the Fae Courts rolled up. Lucifer couldn’t tell which court had arrived, friend or foe.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Clarissa, the Not-So-Teenage Witch

  The murder of crows alerted Lucifer it was not going to be an ordinary day. First it was just one on the skull of the fence post. Then more landed, observing from the forest. They settled on the rooftop and on the bones of the fence. It was unnerving the way they watched.

  Always before when Lucifer had lived in the Morty Realm, ravens had served as spies for Queen Morgaine, and they brought bad luck.

  Baba said to ignore the birds and let them watch. That was easy for her to say. She hardly left her rocking chair, let alone went outside.

  Lucifer stood in the garden, hoeing weeds as Abigail tickled daisies under the baby’s chin. Abigail only had to be shown how to hold the baby once, and she was a natural when it came to changing diapers and rocking Lucille to sleep. Perhaps her body remembered raising her own two girls, even if her mind didn’t.

  The baby was still twisted and misshapen but starting to look more human. Abigail didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with the baby. But she didn’t give the ravens a second glance either.

  All at once, the ravens lifted off and circled in the sky above the cottage. Lucifer wasn’t certain he liked their sudden departure better than their arrival.

  The sudden clomp of hooves beat against the earth. A glowing warmth lit the trail in the forest, chasing away shadows. Two rows of white unicorns pulled a carriage, though the girth of the carriage should have been far too wide to fit on the narrow path.

  Abigail peered over the edge of the fence as the team of unicorns slowed, and the carriage that looked as if it were made from white icing drew up to the cottage.

  “Unicorns,” Abigail whispered, her eyes wide.

  Lucifer warily watched the carriage approach. “Indeed, but these unicorns might not be friendly like the ones in the forest. Stay down, and be quiet.” He walked over to the open window and kept his voice calm and quiet as not to scare Abigail. “Kelsie. Company.”

  Abigail watched through the gaps in the fence.

  Kelsie poked her head out the window, her blue hair surely drawing the attention of those in the carriage if they were looking that way. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the carriage.

  “Get Isibeal upstairs, if you please,” he said quietly, just in case the visitors turned out to be the Verde Court.

  That was the best they could do to hide her if they needed to. Hiding a baby was another matter, especially without being spotted passing her in through a window. A glamour would take too long to construct.

  Lucifer motioned for Abigail to stay down. “Go behind the house. You can hide with the baby in the chicken coop.”

  She made a face. He shook his head at her. Now was not the time for her to be insolent.

  The coachman, a Fae with feathers covering his face, opened the door to the coach. Out came a tall woman clad in black. Vega Bloodmire looked like a formidable witch queen in her long gown and crown of iridescent spikes.

  A squeak of noise escaped Abigail, and she ducked down lower. As relieved as he was to see them, Lucifer wanted to do the same every time he caught sight of his ally.

  Clarissa exited the carriage next, accepting the hand of the driver as she navigated the steps with her arms full. Dressed in pink pastels, she wasn’t nearly as scary. She carried a baby of her own.

  Seeing her should have made Lucifer feel relieved. Instead his heart quickened with dread. She would kill him with her well-intended kindness. If she did as he had asked and took Abigail home, part of him would die.

  “Baby,” Abigail whispered, peeking through the cracks of the fence. She made no mention of Clarissa or that she remembered her—unless perhaps she meant Clarissa was her baby.

  Lucifer waited to see if anyone else emerged from the carriage. “Are you alone?”

  “Quite so. Thanks to your message by care of Godric of the Tinaalto family,” Vega said, strolling toward the gate. “I take it your guests are inside hiding like good little Witchkin?”

  His voice came out gruff. “Some of them.”

  Abigail held the baby to her chest as she scooted behind him. The baby gurgled.

  Clarissa rushed through the gate, not even stopping to greet him as she darted into the cottage. “Mom? Is she awake? And here?”

  Inside the cottage, Baba murmured something too quietly for him to hear.

  Lucifer supposed he should have said more in his letter than that they needed to hurry before Baba cut off her fingers again. But he had wanted to ensure Clarissa didn’t waste any time.

  Vega smirked. “You’ll have to forgive Clarissa. She hasn’t gotten a handle on court eti
quette, much less common manners yet.” Her gaze drifted down to Abigail.

  Lucifer stroked her auburn hair. “Come on out,” Lucifer said. “We have guests. They won’t hurt you.” He stepped back and kneeled at her side.

  Abigail cradled the baby protectively. Clarissa dashed out of the house again, panic on her face. The baby Clarissa held was larger than the newborn in Abigail’s arms. This one had to be at least a year old, the baby’s head resting on her shoulder as she dozed. Lucifer guessed the child was a little girl from the pink bow in her blond hair. Had a year of time truly trickled by in the outside world, while only months had passed in his?

  Clarissa stared at Abigail, sucking in a breath. Abigail tried to stand while holding the baby, but she couldn’t leverage herself up. Lucifer grabbed her under her arms and lifted her to her feet.

  “Good day,” Lucifer said, trying not to sound like a feral animal as he had the last few times he’d spoken with her. “I’m relieved you came so quickly. There’s something I didn’t tell you about Abby.” In truth, he hadn’t known if Clarissa would come if she realized this Abigail wasn’t the fairy godmother who remembered her and he was the reason for that. “Now that you’re here, I need to tell you—”

  “Mom?” Clarissa asked, her voice sounding strangled.

  “Baby?” Abigail asked, looking from one baby to the other with excitement in her eyes.

  “Here, let me take little Lucy,” Lucifer held his arms out for the newborn.

  Abigail reluctantly handed the baby over. She looked forlorn as Clarissa unceremoniously shoved her blonde baby into Vega’s arms.

  Vega grimaced. “What do I look like? A nursemaid? I am a queen. This is beneath me.”

  “I missed you so much.” Clarissa embraced Abigail, tears spilling down her face. “I thought I’d never see you again. I’m so happy.”

  Abigail patted Clarissa’s shoulder consolingly.

  Lucifer cleared his throat. “There’s something you should know about Abby.” He had rehearsed this moment in his head, how he would break the news to her, but now that the moment had come, he was at a loss for words.

  “You brought her back to me, just like you said you would. I’m sorry I doubted you.” Clarissa spoke, but she didn’t look at him. She buried her face against her fairy godmother’s neck.

  Lucifer’s throat tightened with sorrow. He dreaded telling her about his failures.

  Vega looked to the coachman and then to Lucifer. After a moment’s hesitation, Vega held Clarissa’s baby out to Lucifer. He accepted the swaddled baby without complaint, one in each arm now. He couldn’t imagine Clarissa would attack him in a fit of rage when he held two infants in his arms.

  “Clarissa,” he said, trying to get her attention.

  “Is that your baby, Mom?” Clarissa looked at least ten years older than Abigail, and she sounded ridiculous calling Abigail that title. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” She looked to Lucifer.

  “Baby?” Abigail looked at Lucifer now. “Baby Lucy?”

  “That isn’t her baby—our baby,” he said quickly before Clarissa got the wrong idea. “This is Isibeal’s baby. She named the baby Lucille—after me.”

  Abigail squirmed back from Clarissa, her eyes on the babies. He could clearly see she wanted to hold them, even if Clarissa was too distracted to notice.

  Vega caressed a bleached skull set onto the post of the gate. “Isibeal named the baby after you . . . because you’re the father?”

  “No. Isibeal named the baby after me because I served as midwife.” He cleared his throat. “Clarissa, I need you to understand something. I woke Abigail. I said I would. But I didn’t—I couldn’t—” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I tried.”

  “Whatever fool makes, he will make it wrong,” Baba said from the doorway, leaning heavily against her cane.

  “Your wisdom is always appreciated, Baba.” Vega lifted an eyebrow, skewering Lucifer with her gaze. “Apparently someone messed up.”

  “What do you mean?” Clarissa asked.

  “He did not put soul in body. Not all of it,” Baba said.

  Lucifer felt like he was drowning in shame. He hated admitting this to Clarissa—the person he probably should have notified first when Abigail had woken. But it had taken him this long to realize Clarissa was her best chance at safety.

  Abigail tried to take Clarissa’s baby from him. “Baby?” she asked.

  “Indeed,” Lucifer said. “Abigail is a baby.”

  * * *

  Clarissa was silent and sullen as he explained the situation. She declined the tea that Baba offered and Kelsie’s cookies as though they might contain poison. Kelsie glowered as if she thought the insult had something to do with the quality of her cooking. Lucifer took two ginger biscuits to try to get on her good side. Isibeal held her baby, bouncing her in the corner.

  Abigail cooed at Anastacia, the blonde baby. He didn’t know if she had ever met anyone with such fair hair. Abigail seated herself on his lap, hugging the baby in hers and trying to draw his attention from the adult conversation.

  “Look, Lucy. Cute baby,” Abigail said.

  Clarissa watched the woman who had raised her, with a shroud of melancholy weighing down her shoulders.

  “Well,” Clarissa said after a lengthy silence. “I’m certain I can help restore her memories. We have more resources at the castle. Rare books that might be useful. And Felix did have part of his soul removed once. He’s practically an expert on the matter.”

  Lucifer looked to Baba. She’d told him the former headmistress at the school had sought her advice about a boy missing a piece of his soul. The realization crashed down on him like a bolt of lightning. Had this been his brother? He’d always imagined Felix had lived a posh life with their fairy godmother without him. But Queen Morgaine had been cruel to Felix. She’d torn out his soul.

  Perhaps Lucifer had been the lucky one.

  Baba nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible. She had known he’d had a brother—and where he was—and she’d never disclosed this.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  “What could you have done? You could barely control your own magic.” Baba laid a hand on his. “It was not your time to meet your family.”

  Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to give him up as an apprentice. He didn’t know which had fueled her motivations more strongly.

  Vega drummed her fingers against the table. “The real problem isn’t her memories. It’s returning her soul to the body. Do you have it in your keeping?”

  Lucifer looked to Baba. She had said it was somewhere safe.

  “Her soul is in land of the dead,” Baba said. “It will not be reabsorbed by the collective of souls just yet.”

  A chill settled into the pit of Lucifer’s stomach. That didn’t sound like somewhere safe at all. Lucifer didn’t expect Baba to be any more forthcoming with how long he had to retrieve Abigail’s soul before it was too late.

  Clarissa studied him thoughtfully. “I’m so glad you wrote to me.”

  He knew Abigail would be cared for. He just didn’t know if she would become the same Abigail without him. What if she became someone else and fell out of love with him? Just because her soul would slowly grow back didn’t mean she would become the person she once was—not if she had different experiences in this new life.

  “On to other matters. . . .” Vega looked Lucifer up and down. “I have something for you. A little gift from Gertrude Periwinkle.” She opened her tiny beaded purse and withdrew three books and a notebook. The dusty tomes thudded onto the table with an air of finality.

  A lot of good those books would do now that Abigail was awake with a sliver of soul. If only he’d gotten those books sooner.

  Lucifer looked to Clarissa. “You’ll take Abigail with you, then?” His throat tightened.

  “Of course I will! Why wouldn’t I?” Clarissa asked.

  “No, you cannot have her.
She is my apprentice.” Baba shakily rose to her feet, holding on to the table for support. She looked like she could barely exert that much effort. “I need Abby.”

  “Do you, now?” Vega shook her head, a smile on her face.

  Clarissa jumped to her feet, fury in her eyes. “What do you need her for? Her fingers and toes? For spells?”

  “Da, that is correct,” Baba said, reaching over to pat Abigail’s shoulder. “I do not want to lose someone so precious.”

  The smile faded from Abigail’s face, and she flinched back. Isibeal bounced little Lucille, eyes darting back and forth with trepidation. She might have been too far gone in the pain of her labor to have witnessed what Baba had done to save her life, but she had surely overheard Lucifer discuss the matter with Baba the following day. He couldn’t guess what Isibeal thought of the matter.

  Vega leaned back in her chair, inspecting her red lacquered nails with indifference. “I don’t think you want Abby at all. I think you’re bluffing to extort gold out of Clarissa. You might as well name your price. We have better things to do with our time than to haggle.”

  Isibeal paced back and forth. Lucifer had to block the anxiety radiating from her, twisting her muscles into knots, and in turn making his ache.

  “I want Ruby of Divine Wisdom,” Baba said.

  Vega stood and strode toward the door. “You would say that. It’s not happening.”

  “Wait!” Lucifer said. “Isn’t there anything else?”

  Clarissa fidgeted with her dress, looking from Vega to Baba.

  “Some vodka and groceries perhaps?” Lucifer suggested.

  Vega had said they didn’t have time for haggling, but she did so all the same. When they’d at last come to an agreement about a delivery of a new goat for milking, some cured meats, and vodka, Baba gestured to Isibeal. “And now, our other charge. If you take Abby, you must take Isibeal as well.”

  Isibeal stepped forward. “Will you provide me amnesty in your court?”