Son of a Succubus Series Collection

by Dorie, Sarina

  She watched him in the mirror, surprise in her eyes.

  “Should I stop kissing you?” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the fragrance of roses and oak.

  “No. You shouldn’t stop. Ever.” She touched her lips to his.

  He kissed his way down her neck. It was difficult to tell the sudden pounding of her heart from his own. He turned on the bench to better hold her close. He nibbled his way across her collarbone to her shoulder. She let out a shuddering breath that filled him with yearning.

  Lucifer slipped his awareness under her skin, noticing the flush of rising body temperature. Yearning quickened her pulse. Her muscles were languid and relaxed, reflecting the trust in her heart. She sighed and dropped a hand onto his knee, her hair forgotten. Their argument forgotten.

  She kissed him with abandon.

  Lucifer sifted through the green of Amni Plandai magic dwelling inside her body. Layered on top and interwoven between her body and magic, he tasted her gossamer-thin soul, so meshed with the rest of her it was difficult to separate. She had grown since he’d felt her last. Her soul was larger than the babies’ in the other room. It was more intact than Baba’s, beautiful and fragile even if it wasn’t complete. Nothing looked twisted or felt like what he imagined a sociopath’s soul felt like—not that he was an expert on the subject—but it was stretched thinner than he recalled from last time.

  There was only one section that seemed out of place, and what he noticed concerned him. The edges of her soul were strained and taut, as if trying to fill the void where she was incomplete, but still not reaching far enough. It wasn’t black exactly, but he had a sense of depletion and decay, like a plant that wasn’t receiving the proper nutrients and now was on the brink of shriveling up and dying.

  All he would have to do was place the remainder of soul in the vial inside her. He didn’t need to put it all within her. He didn’t need to evict what was already there.

  He kissed the back of her neck and untied the belt of her robe.

  “Don’t,” she said firmly.

  He paused, uncertainty filling him. “What? Why?”

  “I know what you’re doing.” She smacked him on the leg with her hairbrush.

  He flinched back, shocked out of her body and into his own. The sensation of pain had always been a weakness if he wasn’t guarded against it. His Abigail wouldn’t have used physical violence against him. The old Abigail had been gentle and kind.

  On the other hand, she had slapped him once. He supposed he deserved it that time.

  She glared at him. “I didn’t give you permission to examine my soul. Or to touch me like that inside my heart. It’s rude.”

  He stared at her, appalled. “I thought you wanted me to touch you.”

  “Touch me, yes.” She set the brush down and placed his hands on her waist. “But just because I want you to kiss me doesn’t mean I want you inside my soul. That’s very personal.”

  “I see.” He felt so confused. His senses were still reeling from the shock of the hairbrush.

  “You do understand that if I don’t help you, your soul is going to… .” He wasn’t even sure what her soul would do if it kept stretching itself thinner to fill the void that was there. “It didn’t look healthy.”

  “That’s my problem, not yours.” She lifted her chin, a hint of stubbornness in her eyes. “You shouldn’t have been spying on my soul in the first place.”

  He just wanted to help her, to heal her before the damage to her soul was irreversible. And if he was being honest with himself, it was more than that. He longed for her to know who she was so that she would remember him.

  If he had had the blanket, he could have placed the soul inside her and thrown it over her to trap the soul there. He could prevent the soul that currently resided in her from transforming into something malicious. But he wouldn’t have forced her to accept the missing pieces. Perhaps she didn’t understand that.

  Her gaze flickered to the sparkle of green peeking from under his collar. Anxiety tightened in her chest, radiating into him.

  “I’m not going to force this soul into you,” he said. “I give you my word.”

  “No. But you’ll try to convince me it’s for my own good because you think I’m too simple to know any better.” She adjusted his arms around her waist and slipped hers around his neck.

  “I don’t think you’re simple.” He tried to mean it as he said it. She wasn’t stupid. She was just learning. And sometimes she was slightly unethical. “There’s no harm in conversation. Two reasonable adults should talk out their problems. You have just as much of an opportunity to show me how daft I am.”

  She planted a peck against his lips. “Then I will.”

  “Go ahead. That’s fair. So long as you don’t use magic or potions.” He kissed her and pulled away, hoping she wasn’t intending to use his affinity against him. “Or my affinity.”

  “Only if you promise not to use your affinity to convince me.” Her eyes shone with cunning.

  “I promise.” That was reasonable and fair, especially after earlier. She’d used magic on him, and he’d used magic on her. He could handle a truce. He kissed her and allowed his oath to sink into his lips, to transfer from him to her so she would know his intentions were sincere.

  She felt along his waistcoat for the buttons. It only took a few before he could breathe easier. He knew he shouldn’t let Abigail have her way with him—he still needed to convince her to allow him to help her with her soul problem—but her arms were so tempting. His body and magic yearned for her.

  “Would it be unethical if I undressed you?” Lucifer murmured against her mouth.

  She stood and reseated herself on his knee. “No. Why?”

  “Incubus magic. Corrupting your innocence. You’re a minor.” He tugged her robe open and slid the ruffled coat from her shoulders. Her nightgown was far more practical than the robe, or at least it was for sleeping.

  “I’m not a minor.” Her tone was haughty. “You’re a minor.”

  He laughed. He doubted that. “If you say so.” He gathered her closer.

  “I’m not a child any more than Izzy is, and she’s had a baby.” She turned her face away. “Don’t try to infantilize me because you think I’m less than you for having a growing soul.”

  “Wow. ‘Infantilize.’ That’s a big word . . . for a baby.”

  She bit his lip. “You’re impossible.”

  “Compliment accepted.” He tugged at the drawstring of her collar. He kissed his way down her neck.

  “Removing clothes is the first step to making love?” Her voice was eager, too innocent for his liking.

  “Well, it doesn’t have to be.” He glanced down the short hallway to the nursery where the other two women were. “Does that make you nervous?”

  “No. You’ve seen me naked before. And when I use my tree magic while I’m with Yoshi and the other Amni Plandai, they said I’m lovely.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “There isn’t anything to be ashamed of about nudity.”

  “True.” Only he was the one blushing. “Maybe this isn’t the best time for this.” He nodded toward the nursery.

  “Why? They won’t come in. Izzy and I have always been good about keeping each other’s privacy.” She lowered her voice. “And Winnie has a secret boyfriend who climbed up the trellis once. They’ll know to keep out.”

  He lifted Abigail into his arms and set her on the bed. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, but there were still so many chasms between them. There were people—Clarissa’s spies—in the other room. But it was more than that. It was everything still unresolved about her soul that worried him.

  Felix had suggested they talk, but Lucifer didn’t know what else to do or say. He was more lost now than he had been trying to find her soul in the realm of the dead.

  Abigail peeled back the blankets and crawled underneath. He sat down beside her. His hands were shaking with suc
h anticipation he tore a button off his shirt.

  Abigail squealed and covered her mouth. He touched a finger to his lips.

  She giggled. “Don’t worry. Izzy isn’t going to come in unless I scream. We agreed earlier.”

  “When?”

  “As I was getting changed.”

  “What if . . . what if I do make you scream? Accidentally? Because I can’t control my sex magic. I mean, I can control it, I just can’t anticipate how much pleasure it will give you.” He swallowed. He was being silly. He had never feared how someone might think of him when they made love before.

  Abigail’s eyes went wide. “Do you mean I might scream from . . . pain? Or enjoyment?”

  “I don’t know. It can happen. It has happened, the enjoyment part. I just don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t know how experienced you are. It might hurt you. Or you might like it.” He knew the old Abigail, not this one. He’d satisfied that other version of her in bed, but this one didn’t have the same experiences.

  This one had fallen from a unicorn and been harassed for being impure.

  “I had a sexual education class if that makes you feel better.” She grinned. “And Izzy was willing to answer any question I had about sexual reproduction.”

  Every word from her mouth was making this moment less sexy. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to cross that hurdle between them. She kissed him, but he pulled away. He fluffed the pillows behind him.

  “Are you afraid?” she asked.

  “No. Why would I be afraid? I’m an incubus. This is my affinity.” His words came out in a tumble, like the times he spotted a lie on her own lips.

  She scooted closer to him. “Does this mean you don’t want to make love to me?” She stroked his hair away from his face. “You said you wanted us to be honest with each other.”

  He had. He did. Curse his insistence on honesty.

  There were too many worries in his head to voice them all: her maturity, his magic amplifying hers, the soul inside her that was so innocent and impressionable that he truly should have been figuring out what to do to heal. He selected one worry, an easy problem. “One of the reasons we were chaste before—when we were young—was because my affinity draws yours out. Can we just take things slow? Can we see if we like kissing each other first?”

  She pecked him on the lips. “I already know I like it.” She kissed him again. “I knew I liked it the first time you kissed me.”

  “Will you be careful and patient so we can see if we can both control our affinities? We’re both students still. You might not be able to keep from turning into a tree. You might get stuck like when we were young.” He corrected himself so he wouldn’t confuse her. “I mean, like the other Abigail. It was scary for you—for her—to be paralyzed.”

  “I’m not afraid of turning into a tree. Plus, I only can do that in the forest.” She curled closer to him. “Don’t worry. I can be patient for you. And I’m always careful with my magic. I spend lots of time with Red affinities, and I’ve never gotten stuck.”

  “You haven’t spent time with them like this, have you?”

  She loosened the drawstring of her nightgown and shimmied it down her slender shoulder. Her red locks of hair cascaded over her chest, hiding just enough of her to be enticing.

  She leaned forward, the silk of her hair tickling his neck. “Touch me, but just my body,” she said.

  “Not your soul?” he clarified. “I will try.” He stroked her hair back from her neck and exposed her freckled perfection. He kissed her silky shoulder, trailing his lips toward her breasts.

  She was more lovely than a siren. More perfect. This moment was perfect. He didn’t want to ruin it. His insides rattled as much from restraining his affinity as from trepidation.

  She smoothed a hand over his forehead. “Don’t worry. This is only the most important moment of my life.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “No pressure.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She laughed. “I know it’s hard for you. Because you’re a gentleman.”

  “An incubus is hardly a gentleman.”

  “I think I know what would make you feel better.” She rubbed her fingers against his scalp.

  He leaned back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. She hadn’t forgotten about his favorite places to be stroked as a cat. Or a person.

  He sighed in relief. This was exactly what he needed. “Thank you.”

  “Weren’t you the one who taught me not to thank Witchkin, otherwise I’d owe a favor? You’re lucky I’m not completely soulless, or I might hold you to that.”

  He hoped she wasn’t going to bring up the soul thing again.

  “Fortunately for you, kissing will suffice.” She touched her lips to his, her mouth soft, tentative.

  He pulled her closer, basking in the scent of flowers and the feel of the forest. She was spring and life. He threaded his fingers through her hair. Budding flowers had sprouted, and vines lengthened in her auburn locks. Green motes of magic twinkled around her face. He wondered whether he should stop kissing her, whether she would turn into a tree like she had before—in her other life.

  But her lips were hungry. She snuggled closer. He wanted her. His affinity raged inside him, a tempest wanting to lose control. He was so tired of keeping himself reined in, exhausted from restraining his incubus magic. Radiating like a beacon, her desire filled him, fueled him, but it wasn’t enough. He drank her in, torn between enjoying the moment and retaining control.

  He slid a hand over her hip, the pining cresting higher. Her silky skin tasted of strawberries and sweet oak pitch. Vines wrapped around his arms, drawing him closer into her embrace. The moment he pressed his palm between her legs, a flood of green overwhelmed his senses. He stroked her, coaxing her, teasing her until she cried out and arched against him. Her voice was like a siren’s song, but instead of speaking the language of water, she echoed the rhythm of the forest.

  His breath came out in a warm rush against her ear. “Hush. Your roommates will hear.”

  She sighed and then laughed. “I don’t care.” She squirmed against him, driving his affinity wild with yearning.

  Lucifer attempted to slide his hand around her waist, but he was tethered in place with vines.

  “Abby?” He lifted his head to look at her, but that was all he could do.

  Her eyes were slivers, nearly closed. The emerald light within them shone like fire. Her face was framed in orchids. The strawberries kept growing. They coiled around his shoulders, pinning him beside her.

  His affinity remained ravenous inside him, aching for her touch. He attempted to wiggle free, but the prickle of pain stabbed her skin and flooded into him as shoots tore away. He stilled so he wouldn’t hurt her.

  The smile on Abigail’s face faded as she tried to move and realized she couldn’t.

  “Don’t panic,” he said, trying to keep still. “This has happened before.”

  “I’m not panicking.” She swallowed, giving away her nervousness. “What did the old Abby do when this used to happen?”

  He didn’t want to tell her the mistake he had made, thinking he was helping her. Baba was the one who had said to prune her, but that had hurt her. It had made her not want to kiss him. Coinneach was the one who had told her how leshi made love, their vines intertwined. He had told her it was natural to grow.

  “Just rest. Relax.” Lucifer attempted to smile.

  “Okay.” The tension in her muscles eased away. She sank into her pillow, watching him.

  He tried to follow his own advice and relax, but the angle was awkward on his side. His affinity gnawed at him. He was tired of holding his head up.

  Orchids bloomed. Strawberries ripened around her.

  Abigail closed her eyes. “This is nice.”

  “Very nice.” Except that he couldn’t move.

  His affinity wanted magic. His body wanted her. The prick of a thorn raked against his bac
k. Sharing a bed with her after an intimate moment would have been nice, except it wasn’t actually nice at all with all these discomforts.

  She sighed and fell asleep. Lucifer grew uncomfortably aware of his unhappy affinity. Her vines stopped growing at least. They loosened. Slowly he pried them off himself. She rolled onto her back, covered in a blanket of vines.

  It made him think about the blanket he’d brought. He’d prodded at her soul just enough to tell how much it had grown. It hadn’t completely filled the space of her body, but it was larger than it had been before. That soul was so well meshed into her body and magic it didn’t want to be forced out. He couldn’t blame her.

  It also was as thin as gossamer, fragile and stretched too thin as it tried to compensate for its lack of maturity and size. Her soul was beautiful and on the brink of being unhealthy.

  Worse yet, he still wanted her old soul inside her, even if she didn’t. If he couldn’t convince her to accept it, did that mean he was going to have to let the old Abigail go?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mission Impossible

  Lucifer couldn’t lounge in bed with Abigail like he wanted. There was so much he still had to do. He couldn’t decide what to do about her soul, and he still hadn’t stolen Vega’s ruby or found a better solution for Baba.

  He dressed as best he could, looping his cravat around his neck but leaving it untied. He didn’t bother with the buttons on his sleeves and waistcoat. He retrieved his socks and boots where he had left them in the other room but didn’t put them on after how confining they had felt earlier.

  Izzy smirked at him from where she sat in the rocking chair with a baby as he emerged. The other nurse was asleep in one of the beds.

  He ducked his head down, unable to meet her eyes. “Abby is sleeping. She turned into—well—she’s grown some plants. I think she’ll be all right.” He hoped she wouldn’t be stuck like that. He hated to imagine the awkward conversation he’d be having with Clarissa if she didn’t return to her normal self.