Son of a Succubus Series Collection

by Dorie, Sarina

  Lucifer suspected his greatest enemy was himself. At least when it came to his affinity and his heart.

  “We must fortify ourselves so that we can control our affinities rather than our affinities controlling us.” She spoke calmly, her composure belying the regret aching through her and radiating through the air to him.

  Now that he’d stolen the ruby and he’d replenished his affinity, he needed to leave before he was caught by Vega and Elric, but he didn’t feel right leaving Gertrude like this.

  Lucifer sat up and circled an arm around her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lure you into my arms tonight and embroil you in my problems.” He stroked her back, trying to console the hurt in her heart.

  Her anguish ran through her body and soul, an old wound not yet healed. “It’s not that. This isn’t about you, love.” She waved him off.

  He sensed the way her throat tightened around her words.

  “What is it about?” he asked.

  She bit her lip. “I suppose Felix is going to blame me and think I did this to hurt him.”

  “Do you still . . . have feelings for him?” Lucifer asked.

  “Of course not. He’s married.” She waved him off. “He’s moved on. So have I.”

  Lucifer didn’t believe her for a minute.

  He gathered her onto his lap and hugged her. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”

  Her laugh came out bitter, half strangled. “Don’t worry. You didn’t.”

  He leaned his cheek against her breast, listening to the slow melancholy thudding of her broken heart. Unrequited love pierced her body and soul. A sudden urge came over him, the need to mend it as strong as the impulse to breathe.

  The thought crossed his mind that he should go, but her injured heart begged for relief, the need as palpable as her siren magic. Something in his own soul responded to that call. Like an artist enthralled by the invitation of a muse to paint, Lucifer ached to answer that entreaty.

  “There’s something in your soul, something that isn’t meant to be there.” A tremor of nervousness passed through him. “Can I . . . ? Would you allow me to heal it?” Perhaps he shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t his business to interfere. Abigail hadn’t wanted him to examine her soul. As she’d pointed out, she hadn’t asked for him to fix her.

  “How can you heal a soul?” Gertrude asked.

  “I’m not certain I can. I’ve never tried. Except with Baba, and I think hers might be too old to heal. But I don’t think yours is.”

  She studied him thoughtfully. “You’ve been practicing soul magic with Baba Nata?”

  “Not this, exactly. But I’ve been practicing so I can heal Abby.” All that work, and he didn’t know if she would allow him to heal her now.

  Yet he couldn’t give up on her. If he couldn’t convince her the peril her soul was in from being stretched too thin, he was going to have to make Clarissa or Felix understand the seriousness of the situation. They were the only other people he knew who had an inkling of understanding when it came to souls. Certainly they cared about her, but it seemed like they would have regrown Abigail’s soul by now if they had understood how to do so.

  A teasing smile flitted over Gertrude’s lips. “Go ahead and examine me, doctor.”

  He placed a hand on her heart and closed his eyes. Perhaps because he was so attuned to her, it only took seconds to immerse himself in the silk of her magic. He floated in an ethereal space not unlike the underworld, but this place was right here and inside her.

  Gertrude Periwinkle’s magic was complex, more so than most Witchkin’s. Starlight shimmered through a pool of water, the mingling of Celestor and an Elementia water affinity. Yet pulsing through that came her Red affinity, the current of electricity coating both magics.

  Lucifer sifted through the essence of her magic and into the places they attached to her soul. Individually each part was healthy and strong. The fabric of each layer was more like the density of silk rather than the patchwork of Baba’s. It was thicker than Abigail’s, the soul healthy and filling its home fully without being stretched.

  It took a moment to find her ailment. The tears between the siren water affinity and the flesh of her body took time to find. In these gaps, he caught glimpses of raw wounds in her soul.

  Heartache was a word, a name branded into the fabric of her flesh and the essence of her soul. Felix. Tha-thump. Felix. Tha-thump. Lucifer washed away her pain and soothed those wounds. Each pulse etched his brother’s name deeper, scratching out an older heartache, one carved still deeper.

  Lucifer had realized Gertrude still cared about Felix, but he hadn’t known the wound was still this raw. Nor had he realized there was another loss under Felix’s that she’d never mentioned. It sprawled through her like a cavernous abscess.

  Alouette. Tha-thump. Alouette. Tha-thump. That name echoed in the chamber of her heart, resonating though her every other love. Lucifer didn’t know who this Alouette was. Gertrude had never spoken that name out loud to him. Felix was superficial in comparison, a mask to hide an earlier pain.

  The first wound had torn through her on three planes: body, magic, and soul.

  No wonder it was so difficult for her to heal.

  Lucifer reached into those gaping holes and smoothed out the frayed edges. He sealed the wounds closed and massaged the lumps from the scar tissue of the soul. It wasn’t that different from using his affinity to heal a body, except that a soul was intangible, and a body was solid. A soul was light and fragile, with a will of its own.

  Gertrude’s chest quaked under his hand as a great burden faded away. The release of sorrow burned bright and clean, cresting into an apex that made the pinnacle of their sexual encounter dim by comparison. She let out a shuddering breath.

  He opened his eyes to find her crying.

  “Did mending you hurt?” He hadn’t felt any twinges of pain during the healing, but he’d been engrossed in his task. He might have missed it.

  She shook her head and wiped at the black lines of makeup running down her face. “No. I’m fine. It’s just strange. Freeing.” She smiled and kissed his cheek before standing and straightening her skirts again.

  She glowed like mother-of-pearl, her beauty luminous in the absence of the darkness that had tarnished her magic. Lucifer had done her a service, but he wondered whether he’d done the world a disservice. No one was going to be able to resist her now. Himself probably included.

  Kelsie would be drooling.

  He grinned when he thought of how jealous she’d be of him if she knew he’d spent time with Gertrude. “By the way, if you should ever find yourself interested in the company of females, Kelsie has a crush on you. She’s Baba’s other apprentice. The one with blue hair.”

  “I know who she is. Did she come with you tonight?” Her eyes twinkled in amusement.

  He yawned. “No. Baba made her stay home. She needed Kelsie to assist with a patient.” This was the reason Baba had insisted he return before dawn.

  “I’ll keep your matchmaking suggestions in mind.” Gertrude kissed his forehead and left him.

  Lucifer needed to leave before he was caught. It would only be a matter of time before Vega figured out he’d stolen her scepter, but he was so drowsy he didn’t want to move. He could open a portal and return to Baba’s cottage, but he still needed to retrieve Abigail’s soul blanket. And of course, if he left now, Abigail’s soul might spread even thinner before he assisted her. He needed to warn her about the danger she was in—even if she didn’t want to listen.

  All these thoughts raced around in his head, but his body didn’t care. His muscles were heavy with exhaustion. As small and uncomfortable as the loveseat was, Lucifer fell asleep.

  * * *

  Lucifer woke with a start as a hand slapped him on the shoulder.

  “There you are, my good man,” Elric stood over his chair. “I knew we’d find you in here. You’re such an enthusiast for books and lear
ning, just like your brother.”

  Godric stood behind Elric, looking tired and glum. He wore a floppy green hat with a frill of feathers sticking out of the velvet fabric. Two more men entered the library behind him. From their grim expressions, Lucifer couldn’t tell whether they were there because of Lucifer’s earlier confession about murdering Godric or another reason. That was before Lucifer realized Godric wasn’t the scoundrel he’d thought he was.

  If Elric wasn’t there about Lucifer’s plot to murder, it had to be about the ruby, but if that was the case, he didn’t see why Godric was there.

  Lucifer glanced at the window. It was still dark. A clock on the wall showed it was only four in the morning. If it was summer, then dawn might be in an hour or two, which meant he still had time to return to Baba’s.

  Elric’s grin showed off straight white teeth, too perfect to be real. Lucifer had a feeling that smile wasn’t genuine either. From the cunning in the man’s eyes standing beside Godric, Lucifer was suddenly on edge.

  Elric must have found out about Odette giving him Vega’s scepter.

  Lucifer stood. He drew his affinity into his hand and channeled the portal to leave.

  Elric snapped his fingers like one would at a dog. Lucifer’s knees buckled, and he plopped back onto the seat. His magic extinguished.

  “None of that, if you please.” Elric said. “We need to have a little sit-down. We have several important matters to discuss. First is a public concern.” He lowered his voice. “The second is a more personal concern that has come to my attention regarding something you may have in your possession.” His smile didn’t waver, but his eyes turned to a steely gray.

  More people entered the room, women in evening gowns decorated in plumage and gold leaf shaped to resemble feathers that contrasted with their bronze skin. Servants accompanied the partygoers. The grandness of the library suddenly felt small. There were a dozen people Lucifer could see, but he had the sense there were more he couldn’t see. Only out of the corner of his eyes was he able to catch glimpses of the snakes at the women’s feet and birdlike creatures perched on shoulders. He wasn’t sure if these were familiars or Fae that resembled animals.

  Lucifer had a bad feeling about this.

  “Am I in trouble?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t doubt he was.

  Godric hung his head in shame, not meeting Lucifer’s eyes. Elric swept his hand at the furnishings in the room. Tables and chairs scraped against the wood floor momentarily before rearranging themselves with ease. Elric settled himself into a chair across from Lucifer, a glass of wine in his hand.

  “May I offer you some refreshments during this tête-à-tête?” Elric asked.

  A glass of wine appeared in Lucifer’s hand. He set it down on the end table, not wanting to drink anything that a Fae gave him even if it was from a supposed ally.

  Godric seated himself on a chair placed between Lucifer and the older man with the cunning smile who accompanied him. The other man who had entered with them crossed over to the window, looking out at the grounds. His hair was black, laced with white strands like an aged man’s, but the shimmers of white looked more like starlight than hair. From what Lucifer could see of his face, it was neither young nor old, the heavy glamour concealing what he truly looked like. Though the man looked unassuming enough, and the muted greens of the feathers on his frock coat were unobtrusive, he housed a world of power under his façade of human skin.

  Lucifer sensed plant magic, but more powerful than the Amni Plandai flavor of what a Witchkin possessed. This man was Fae. And not a wild Fae like the wood nymphs or leshi. He was high Fae. Royal. Power wafted from him like a perfume. Some of the women in the room were also Fae. With their dark skin and starlight hair, he suspected they were related to the man at the window.

  “May I have the pleasure of introducing Lucifer Thatch, brother of King Felix of the Red Court?” Elric waved a hand at Lucifer. “This is Godric Tinaalto and his father, Duke Reginald Tinaalto.”

  “Yes, we’ve already met. At least Godric and I have.” Lucifer scooted to the edge of his seat and thrust out his hand to shake the duke’s. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  The man didn’t rise to shake his hand. Awkwardly, Lucifer dropped his. Reginald bowed his head in a snooty sort of way. “You know my son.” It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

  “Um. . . .” Lucifer said.

  Godric’s eyes remained on the floor. “We met earlier this evening. A mutual friend introduced us.”

  “Miss Abigail Lawrence?” Reginald asked.

  “Abigail MacQuillan,” Lucifer corrected.

  Reginald’s hair was fair like Godric’s, but his complexion darker, the contrast made him look striking, though not nearly as much so as the Fae in the room. Lucifer might have noticed the resemblance if he hadn’t been distracted by the old man leering at him. Godric was taller than his father, and slender with youth.

  Elric grinned wider, waving a hand at the man gazing out the window. “This is their lord and benefactor, Prince Mixcoatl: Sovereign of the Stars and the Hunt; Son of Itzpapalotl, Lady of the Obsidian Butterfly; and member of the Verde Court.”

  Lucifer knew that name. He forced himself to breathe slowly, not to let his panic give himself away.

  Godric looked up from the floor. He gave the slightest shake of his head in warning. He didn’t have to speak the warning out loud. The sovereign of the Verde Court was here in Elric’s home.

  Izzy was only floors away. This was the father of her child. The monster who had hurt her. Lucifer was suddenly less worried about the consequences of stealing the ruby and more anxious on Izzy’s behalf.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Son of an Obsidian Butterfly

  Lucifer didn’t know how he could stand being in the room with the man who had hurt Izzy. He bit his tongue against the rage that wanted to flood out of him. He had enough electricity that he could strike the man if he wanted to.

  Prince Mixcoatl continued staring out the window. He didn’t speak or give away any indication that he had heard the introduction. Elric introduced two women standing behind Reginald’s settee. “This is Princess Coyolxauhqui and Princess Malinalxochitl.” They were Fae. Elric introduced the Witchkin relatives, but Lucifer lost track in his nervousness.

  Lucifer stood again, offering his seat to the princesses.

  Malinalxochitl, her hair flowing over her shoulders like liquid night, offered him a smile full of silk and guile. “As kind of you as it is to offer, I must decline. We are simply observers. Don’t mind us as we linger in the shadows. We are but witnesses here to amuse ourselves with the petty problems of mere mortals.”

  Godric covered his face with his hand at that. His father, Reginald, straightened in his chair.

  Elric’s grin grew more strained. “Well now, Lucifer, it appears Prince Mixy noticed you dancing with one of his heirs this evening.”

  Lucifer let out a sigh of relief. So the prince wasn’t here to confront him about Izzy? He didn’t know of her presence? He could only hope.

  Reginald barked out a laugh. “Just so! Our sovereign pointed out to me that you danced with my daughter three songs in a row.”

  There was a warning in Elric’s eyes, something unsaid. Lucifer couldn’t figure out whether it was about Izzy or Lucifer committing some social faux pas. Lucifer looked to Godric for a hint of what this was really about, but the other man was too busy picking imaginary dirt out of his fingernails to notice.

  “I’m sorry I monopolized Hattie for so long,” Lucifer said, remembering how she’d advised him against it. “She warned me it was rude, but I’m not familiar with court etiquette. I beg your pardon for this offense.” Lucifer searched for the young woman in the dozen courtiers and guests but didn’t see her.

  Reginald laughed. “Not at all. We were delighted to see she’d caught your eye.”

  “Oh.” Lucifer suspected he saw the problem now. “No, she didn’t. I was just
being friendly.” He corrected himself. “Appropriately friendly. Not old-man lecherously friendly.”

  The father laughed again. “No, of course not. You aren’t an old man. And youthful indiscretions can be forgiven so long as no harm is done.”

  Lucifer had heard Godric say otherwise regarding his own conduct. He didn’t doubt Reginald was putting on airs for everyone else’s behalf.

  “I thought it might be best for Prince—ahem—King Elric to introduce us so that you would feel more comfortable to call upon my daughter at our home. There’s no need for a secret courtship.” Reginald leaned forward, his tone conspiratorial.

  “Um . . . what?” Lucifer felt like he’d just opened a book halfway through and was missing some vital information set up at the beginning. Only everyone else in the room had read the book.

  The two Fae princesses whispered against the wall. Someone stepped on a book that had fallen from the shelf earlier.

  “It isn’t as if my wife or I would object. Or my sovereign,” Reginald said. “My daughter receives so little attention from male suitors, let alone those who come from a good family of suitable breeding.”

  This was everything Lucifer hated about the Fae courts, everything the old Abigail had always complained about. All they cared about was hierarchy and carrying on the purity of their lines. He searched for the words to be polite, but he was so lost. “I suppose I should be flattered to be considered suitable by your standards. It’s an honor that you suggest it, but I’m not interested in your daughter in that way.” He was all too aware of the audience, ready to devour him like wolves at his first misstep.

  “I’ve made inquiries. You are the youngest of your siblings, not so different from my boy here. You have no fortune of your own.” Reginald leaned back in his chair.

  Godric glowered at the ceiling, trying to hide his mortification.