“What? Aren’t you going to tell me you can’t stand to lose this one too?” Vega said dryly.
“Nyet. This one will bring trouble with Fae. The Verde Court.”
Vega crossed her arms. “Just what we need. More court intrigue.”
Lucifer knew Vega wasn’t heartless. She only pretended to be. He suspected the agreement simply needed to be couched in her terms. “Use this as an opportunity to show off your power to Witchkin and Fae. Take Isibeal in to insult your enemies. Show them they’ve lost a Red affinity while you’ve gained another ally.”
Vega lifted an eyebrow. “Their trash is my treasure?”
“I’m not trash,” Isibeal said, hugging her baby to her.
Clarissa smiled, her voice warm and gentle. “No, you’re more like a diamond, but they thought you were coal.”
Isibeal’s lips twitched into a smile.
Vega still looked unconvinced.
Baba leaned forward. “If you want Abby, you must take this one and her baby too. All or none. Or no deal.”
Vega groaned. “Fine, Baba. I’ll take them all.”
Baba nodded to Lucy. “Pack up their things.”
Neither Isibeal nor Abigail had anything worth packing. Lucifer supposed he could prepare a change of clothes for Abigail, but there was nothing she owned that they wouldn’t provide for her at the castle. From Clarissa and Vega’s attire, he suspected anything they gave her would be nicer.
“How about a snack for the trip?” Kelsie set aside two cookies. Her voice was suddenly hoarse, and she turned away.
Clarissa frowned disapprovingly, but she didn’t refuse.
“I’ll just look upstairs,” Lucifer said.
He climbed up the ladder, surveying the shared room. There was nothing in the drawers that she would need. The books were Baba’s. The knife, bow, and other items were his. He could give Abigail the bouquet of flowers she’d picked the week before, but they were now so dry and brittle they would perish on a carriage ride. She had no toys like a child might. He wanted to give her something to remember him in case Clarissa never brought her back, but he had thought he would have more time to make her something. Anything.
Now the moment was here, and he could give her nothing.
Baba eyed his empty hands when he climbed back down. She didn’t question him. Kelsie shoved a paper bag full of cookies at him. He handed them to Vega.
“By the way, I have a note for you. From Godric.” Vega reached into her purse and withdrew a letter.
Lucifer held out his hand.
“Not for you.” Vega slapped his hand aside. “For Kelsie.”
Kelsie’s blue eyes went wide as she accepted it.
Abigail smiled, pleased to carry Anastacia, oblivious that this was a farewell. She followed Clarissa outside like a happy puppy. When Clarissa pointed to the inside of the carriage, Abigail hesitated.
“Do you want to go for a ride?” Clarissa asked. “We’ll take you to the castle, and you can spend more time with the babies.”
Abigail looked to Lucifer, still uncertain.
He nodded. “You’ll like Clarissa. You were very kind to her once, and she’ll be very kind to you.” From her puzzled expression, he supposed the idea of another life that she couldn’t remember might be too abstract for her. “You’ll get to ride in a carriage pulled by unicorns and see the countryside go by.”
“Unicorns,” Abigail said.
“And babies.” He forced a smile.
She snuggled the baby in her arms. That had always been her soft spot.
They had no trouble getting Abigail into the carriage. She sat inside, waving, absolutely giddy. Only when the carriage started off did he hear her cry out.
“Lucy?” She stuck her head out the window, her eyes full of panic as she reached one hand out toward him.
She’d figured it out. Clarissa’s voice rose, trying to console her.
Abigail screamed.
His heart lurched. “Stop!” He ran after the carriage. “Please, just give her a moment.”
“You cannot go with her,” Baba called out from the door. “Do not repeat past like fool who hasn’t learned his lessons.”
“I know.” He ran faster and called out again.
He didn’t think the carriage would stop, but it did slow and finally came to a halt.
Abigail threw open the door and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing. “Lucy. I want Lucy.”
It was more than he’d ever heard her say, a complete sentence.
“Hush.” He stroked her back and held her to his chest. She sniffled against his shirt and wiped her face on him. He didn’t stop her.
“Do you understand why you have to go with Clarissa?” he asked.
“No! Stay with Lucy,” she said, her voice full of defiance.
“Baba is going to keep cutting off your fingers if she needs them. Do you remember when she did that?”
She shook and hid her face from him. He suspected she did remember.
“Clarissa loves you. You’ll be safe with her. She won’t let anyone hurt you.” His chest ached as he admitted the truth out loud. “She can do a better job protecting you than I can.”
“No! I want Lucy!” She squeezed him so tightly it hurt his ribs.
He hadn’t known she had such strength. She stood on tiptoe and tried to kiss his mouth, but only got his chin. He didn’t regret kissing her to heal her, but he supposed he should have felt more wrong about doing so. It would confuse her and make things difficult between them. Leaving now would protect her from him. It would save her from his lust and rescue him from temptation.
Lucifer took Abigail’s face in his hands and planted a quick peck on her lips. He made his voice firm, the way he had to in order to get her attention. “You will mind Clarissa, and you will be good for her. Right?”
She frowned and looked away. He kissed each of her cheeks. She smoothed her fingers over his dark hair, gazing into his eyes with such longing he would have believed she was an adult.
Vega Bloodmire pushed aside the curtains, lips pursed. “Are you going to keep her or allow us to bring her home with us?”
Abigail wouldn’t let go of his hair, even as he turned his head to look at Vega. He had wanted to give her a gift before, something to comfort her, to remind her of him. She’d read him a story once while they’d been in the Morty Realm about a young man who gave his lover a lock of his hair. Abigail had thought the idea was romantic. A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he remembered how she’d teased him and asked him if his shedding was his way of doing the same.
“I want to give Abby something before she goes.” The only thing he could give her to remember him. He looked to Vega. “Do either of you have a knife?”
“Please, not your beating heart,” Vega said. “That is so cliché.”
“Vega, shut up,” Clarissa whispered. “Just give him your knife.”
“I only need it for a minute,” he said. And then as an afterthought, in case they were suspicious of his motives, he added, “I’m not going to hurt anyone.”
Clarissa exited the carriage, holding a small silver blade with an ornate handle. Lucifer accepted it and stepped back so Abigail wouldn’t try to touch him as he cut through his hair. The man in the story Abigail had told him had only given his lover a lock of hair. He grabbed a fistful, set on giving her as much as he could.
“Oh,” Clarissa said, understanding crossing her face. “Wait. Let me help you.”
He bent down so she could reach more easily. She gathered his hair in a ponytail and tied it back with a ribbon. He could see the wisdom in that. A ponytail would keep it together for Abigail, so she wouldn’t lose any of it. Clarissa sliced through the hair just above the ponytail so that the mass of waves came away in a solid chunk.
Abigail stared with wide eyes, as if he’d cut away something as vital as a finger or toe. He wrapped his hair in his handkerchief and handed it to her.
“Now you have something to remember me by,” he said.
Clarissa placed a hand on his shoulder. “It takes selflessness and courage to be able to let someone go that you love. You have a good heart, Lucifer Thatch.”
Any words he might have uttered caught in his throat. He couldn’t speak. Not without crying. That would only make Abigail worry more.
Abigail slipped her hand inside the fold of the handkerchief and stroked his hair. He kissed the top of her head and lifted her back into the carriage.
“This isn’t farewell,” Clarissa said. “We’ll see you again soon.”
The last thing he saw before Vega closed the curtain was Abigail burying her face in his midnight locks.
He waved, though he wasn’t sure if Abigail could even see it. “See you again, soon.” He said the words, but he didn’t quite believe them.
Letting go of Abigail was harder than seeing her as a tree, as a sleeping maiden, or waking as a child. He hoped he had made the right decision.
* * *
It was well past the witching hour when Lucifer returned to the cottage after spending the evening hunting in his cat form. He sat down at the kitchen table, gulping down tea. The books were still on the table where Vega had left them, as well as the notebook. He opened it, finding Gertrude’s translations. He scanned the exercises and the titles of the spells. There were lessons like, “Detecting the Presence of a Soul,” or “How to Keep a Soul Intact,” and “Reincarnation for Beginners.” He skimmed the translation, understanding where he had gone wrong.
The solution was so simple, but it required skills that he hadn’t possessed before—and still didn’t. He needed to practice. The book explained the consequences of keeping the soul from the body for too long. A body without a soul would make Abigail grow into a sociopath. If too much time passed, the soul would disintegrate and be reborn. He had to ensure that didn’t happen.
As he read, he realized it wasn’t too late. All Lucifer had to do was go to the land of the dead and seduce Abigail’s soul back into her body.
He was an incubus. Seduction was his middle name. Already he had a plan for the next chapter in his life.
THE END
Incubus Charms
Book 5
CHAPTER ONE
Journey to the Underworld
This wasn’t Lucifer Thatch’s first visit to the underworld, but it was the first time he’d been able to stay for more than a few seconds. The irony didn’t escape Lucifer that with a name like his, he should have been better at grasping the nuances of death magic and souls.
As it was, he could barely tell up from down in this dimension. He didn’t know how he would be able to find Abigail’s soul. The realm around him was a misty plane of flickering lights. Swirling patches of vapors mixed one color into the next. Everything was ephemeral and changing in this landscape. This wasn’t the hell, or even purgatory, he imagined. It was more like a dreamworld than anything else he’d encountered in the Faerie Realm.
The longer he remained, the more confused his senses became. The thread binding him to his body felt thinner, weaker. If he lost the ability to return to his body, he would become absorbed into the land of the dead. Every second here was precious, and he used it to sift through the souls and fragments of souls before they either dissipated or were reborn. He feared some pieces of Abigail already had done so.
Lucifer pushed forward. The bright flicker of lights became a piano concerto, but just as quickly as it had come, it shifted into the music of thunderstorms. He tasted Italian spices, and then a moment later it became the flavor of wind blustering through his shoulder-length hair on a sunny afternoon. The salty spray of ocean kissed his lips, only to be replaced by the scent of rainbows.
Each of these flickers were part of someone’s soul, their personalities, perhaps even their memories, but Lucifer hadn’t learned enough to understand how to separate one soul from the rest. Their flavors mixed together like soup. None of these souls resembled Abigail’s. He hoped he wasn’t too late to find her. If she dissolved into the other personalities here, it would be impossible to separate her.
In mere months, Baba didn’t think anything of her would remain here. If she was born again into another body, he would have to rip that piece of her away, leaving a baby empty and broken. She would never forgive him if he did that. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t fix her after what he’d done.
Ever since Lucifer had learned he’d botched the task of putting Abigail’s soul back into her body and accidentally let the majority of it escape, this was the first he truly felt like he was making progress. If only he could distinguish her unique resonance from the rest, he could capture it, contain it, and hold on to it for her.
He could set right the mistake he had made.
A violet light made of moonbeams and laughing memories flickered up ahead. Lucifer’s head spun as an orchestra of senses washed over him. He felt less himself and more like he belonged here, another flickering light meant to be absorbed back into this collective of souls.
A swirling sparkle of green that tasted like the oak of Abigail’s magic brushed across his mind. He shuddered in recognition. The memory of their first kiss came back to him, hesitant and awkward in their youth. Instead of the shadow of his touch affinity sending electrical impulses through him, he felt what it was for Abigail to be kissed. Her lips had been searching his for answers to her pining. She had craved the warmth of his touch to fill the void in her heart left by too many wounds of loss and sorrow. His friendship had been the only thing that kept her from falling into a chasm of desperation and vengeance for her family’s deaths.
Lucifer reached out his arms to embrace her soul, but she sifted through his fingers, cold and ghostly. The book of spells had explained that he was supposed to use his affinity to seduce her soul back into her body. He was supposed to convince this part of her spirit to want to remain with him. But in this other place, he couldn’t feel more than a hint of his magic. Lucifer attempted to intensify the red light dwelling inside him. Instead of drawing that magic into this realm to grasp her, he drew himself out of it.
He woke, gasping.
The room was warm and stuffy compared to the cool airiness he’d experienced seconds before. His body pressed into the chair, heavy and lethargic. He never felt himself after these practice sessions with Baba Nata, the Witch of Nightmares, to whom he was contractually obligated as an apprentice with for another two years. Always it felt like a piece of him might have been left behind. He ran his hands over his ill-fitting waistcoat and the bone buttons of the shirt underneath. The loaned clothes that he’d never returned to his brother felt as wrong on him as being in a body again after astral projection.
He felt uncomfortably large and clumsy on the small chair. His beard itched, and his wild mane of hair felt too short, but that might have been because he’d only cut it weeks before to give to Abigail as a gift when she’d left with Clarissa.
Baba leaned forward, squinting at him. The flames of the fire in the hearth had died to glowing embers, painting her face in golden light and foreboding shadows. She resembled a children’s drawing of a witch, with a long nose and a wart on her pointed chin. A red kerchief hid most of her hair, save for snowy tufts that peeked out from underneath. She’d wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, and a blanket was tucked around her lap.
The weathered map of wrinkles around her eyes crinkled more deeply. “Welcome back to land of living.” Baba’s Russian accent was slightly slurred.
Lucifer glanced at the bottle of vodka on the table, unable to tell how much she’d imbibed for medicinal purposes while he’d been using astral projection.
“I had her.” His voice was rough, closer to an animal growl than a human’s. “She was right before me, but she passed through my fingers.”
Again.
Baba nodded. “You are making progress. This time you had fingers. Da? You are lucky.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it. I had to work to keep my body while in the underworld.” He pounded a fist into his palm, thinking of all the hours he’d spent practicing exercises diligently.
Baba sipped from a teacup that mismatched the flower pattern on the saucer. Her knobby hands shook with exhaustion.
“I’m not even sure that soul was hers. What if it was someone else with a plant affinity, and I put someone else inside her? How am I going to be able to return her soul if I can’t find each piece of her in time? All I have is this.” He held up his hand, the ring he’d made of Abigail’s auburn hair circled around his finger. What he possessed was a meager finding charm braided from the remnants in a hairbrush.
Baba leaned back in her chair. “This is unique problem. It will require unique solution.”
If he’d started these exercises sooner, he would have been able to prepare better. He could have cut off a lock of Abigail’s hair or even held hands with her to feel her essence while drawing the soul back to her. But if Abigail had been present, she would have babbled away like a baby and distracted him. She would have patted him and tried to draw his attention to her so she could show him a spider or butterfly.
Now that she had neither soul nor memories, she was a baby in an adult body. It was his duty to put her back. He was, after all, the reason her body was lacking more than a fraction of soul to begin with. If only he’d been more patient and allowed Baba to teach him everything he needed to know first.
Then again, he would have been in the same boat as when Abigail had been asleep. She wasn’t able to defend herself against a hedge witch who needed her fingers and toes to power spells to keep patients from dying. Lucifer still couldn’t forgive Baba for taking from Abigail like that.
“There is spell I know for finding missing person. Fetch spell book.” Baba waved him toward the loft.
He climbed up the ladder leading above the curtained section of the cottage where Baba’s bed was located. He moved slowly in the darkness, feeling his way across the wood floor past Kelsie’s bed. The other apprentice had slept through his practice session with Baba, but she stirred as he crept over to his side of the room. He found the books underneath the bed frame and silently retrieved them.
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