Son of a Succubus Series Collection

by Dorie, Sarina

  Had his ability to detect glamours always been so remedial? Or were they simply stronger than other Fae, and he hadn’t known enough to realize it until recently?

  The group of women appeared as spindly hags, limbs dripping with pond scum. The sickly hue of their blue skin was wrinkled and lined. Some had serpents for hair. Others had plants.

  He knew the moment he saw them they would try to remove the baby from his care.

  “A death requires a death,” one muileateach said in a raspy voice.

  “We should curse you for doing this to our sister.”

  Lucifer raised his chin, defiance making his blood boil. “It’s true I am guilty of being the baby’s father. But I didn’t kill Morag. I tried to save her.” Lucifer had once spent time with these women. Intimately. He couldn’t believe how they’d turned on him. Were Fae truly so fickle?

  He tried to subtly shift his way between them and the door to the cottage.

  “You sealed her fate the day you planted your seed in our sister,” one hag said. “You tricked her into carrying your bairn.”

  “I didn’t trick anyone.” He hadn’t given much thought to the fertility side of his powers until recently. Fae weren’t supposed to be able to become pregnant, especially ancient ones. He’d always assumed it would take some kind of ritual or spell for Red affinity magic to make a child, but there was so much he didn’t know about his powers.

  The swamp hag jutted out her chin like a defiant child. “Death is what you brought us. Now we give you the same.”

  Lucifer shook his head, his throat tight with fear. But it wasn’t his own life he was nervous about. It was his son’s. “Go on, then. Take your vengeance out on me, and get it over with.”

  “Nyet.” Baba hobbled over to the door. “Instead of revenge, you should thank Lucy for bringing new life into your home. Morag could have gotten rid of that babe if she wanted, but she did not. She wanted heir. Will you curse Lucy for granting her dying wish?”

  One of the Fae women cackled, the shrill screech of her voice like that of a banshee. “Do you mean to tell us Morag’s dying wish was to perish while delivering a bairn?”

  “Morag knew risk. She was old.” Baba leaned against her cane. “Sometimes cost of life is death.”

  A chill settled over Lucifer as Baba said that. He didn’t want his actions to cause any other woman harm. His affinity had never felt like such a burden.

  “You want a life to replace Morag’s?” Baba asked. “You take her baby and raise as your own. Then maybe you decide if you want baby of your own and if it is worth risk of death.”

  “No,” Lucifer said. “I’m not giving him up.”

  “Yes, you will,” Baba said. “You owe them debt.”

  “We will take the child to do with as we please,” said one of the women.

  “I can’t, Baba.” Lucifer said. “I love him.”

  Baba waved a hand to Kelsie, beckoning for her to bring the baby out of the cottage. Baba placed a hand on Lucifer’s arm. “Sometimes you must give up what you love to make room for what comes next.”

  Their arms were hungry, but not as ravenous as their hearts. He could feel their longing radiating from them, wafting in swirls like the mist.

  Lucifer stepped in front of Kelsie to block her from giving away his child, but his feet became rooted to the ground. The magic was subtle, strings of magic knit together. He looked to Baba, her fingers trembling as she motioned in his direction.

  Kelsie brought the baby to Morag’s sisters.

  Tears blurred his vision. “Promise me you won’t eat him.”

  With great anguish clawing at his own heart, Lucifer gave up his firstborn child, though not by choice.

  * * *

  Lucifer hated Baba. It was hard not to remember every wrong she’d committed against him.

  The grief of losing his firstborn child to a bunch of swamp hags that Lucifer hoped weren’t going to eat the baby was still fresh in his heart when the carriage rolled up to the cottage the following afternoon.

  Lucifer set down the ax and called to Kelsie that they had visitors.

  Vega strode out first, attired in an ornate black gown with a ruffle of feathers puffing out around her neck and sleeves. She was dressed as ridiculously as a Fae with her crown and a new scepter in place.

  Perhaps this was the one with the real Ruby of Divine Wisdom.

  Vega scowled at Lucifer. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet, you little thief.” She strolled past him into the cottage.

  Abigail exited the carriage next, running to Lucifer and hugging him. He buried his face in her auburn hair, needing the comfort of her arms after his many failures. He wanted someone to confide in, but he worried about losing her. He’d already lost Galen. If she grew vexed with him for having a child in the first place, he might lose her too. He didn’t think his heart could handle that.

  More importantly, his problems weren’t solvable. Hers were.

  He still needed to make her understand the seriousness of her problems. She needed to regrow a soul or accept her old one. If she didn’t, her stunted soul would twist into something wicked and selfish. Or perhaps she would grow sick if it stretched too thin or developed holes like Baba’s had.

  Abigail lifted her chin and covered his face in kisses. “I missed you so much, Lucy.”

  Clarissa exited the carriage, casting an anxious glance their way. She didn’t stop to greet him, only followed Vega into the cottage.

  “How long has it been this time?” he asked.

  “Two days.”

  Yet it had been four where Lucifer had been. Time was still not working as it should. Baba needed time to be slower where they were so she wouldn’t age as quickly.

  Lucifer squeezed Abigail to him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Abigail lowered her voice. “About Izzy? Godric told me you met Prince Mixcoatl.”

  “No. About other things.” A lump formed in his throat. He didn’t know how he was going to tell her about the baby. Or the other liaisons he’d had in the forest. Or Gertrude Periwinkle. “Important things.”

  “Wait,” Abigail said, glancing at the carriage, excitement in her eyes. “You have to open your present first!”

  Lucifer bit down on the frustration that she had to interrupt what he wanted to tell her because of a present. How old was she? Twelve? Possibly her soul was too immature and stunted to care about other people’s feelings.

  The driver unloaded a small chest from the carriage and brought it inside the gate. The man set it at Lucifer’s feet. He was surprised to find his name on an envelope tied to the latch.

  “What’s this?” Lucifer asked the driver. The man shrugged.

  Abigail peered at the note. “It’s a gift from Peter, for saving his life, he said.”

  “I didn’t save his life.” Lucifer couldn’t help chuckling as he remembered Peter’s change in demeanor once Lucifer had pulverized his kidney stones. The valet had been far less snooty after Lucifer had healed him. “I just helped him solve a problem.”

  “He gave me a key for the chest.” She fished it out from under her collar, the key on a string. “He made me promise not to open it, and he used a special spell on me that would tell him if I broke my word.” She grinned and handed him the key. “But now that we’re together, you can open it, and I can see what’s inside without breaking my word.”

  “What’s the consequence? Boils?” Lucifer asked.

  “A horrible itch that I won’t be able to scratch no matter how hard I try.”

  Lucifer liked the way Peter thought. Nothing too drastic or hurtful, just enough of a consequence it would keep Abigail from mischief. He took the key from her and placed it in his pocket. “Perhaps it’s best if I open the box later. It might be something of a private matter.”

  Abigail placed her hands on her hips. “It might be that the two of you have conspired to drive me mad with curiosity.”
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  “How about some lunch?” Clarissa called from the door of the cottage. “Abby, you can help me set out food.” Her smile was strained.

  From the way Clarissa was glaring at him, Lucifer suspected Felix had told her about him and Gertrude. Most of the time he couldn’t have cared less what Clarissa thought of him, but he didn’t want her to sour Abigail against him.

  Clarissa took Abigail by the arm and practically dragged her into the cottage. Kelsie was busy making tea inside. She shot Lucifer a worried glance and nodded to Vega.

  The scepter Lucifer had stolen was laid across Baba’s lap beside the one Vega had carried in. The two were nearly identical, except that the red glass had been dislodged from the one he’d stolen.

  Vega kneeled at the foot of her grandmother. “You don’t understand, Baba. I’m not trying to deceive you. I don’t have the Ruby of Divine Wisdom any longer. I just keep the scepter as show to impress my enemies.”

  Baba’s needles were still for once. “But you did have ruby. Where is it now?”

  “I had to put it back. It doesn’t belong in this realm.”

  Baba’s shoulders sagged. With Vega’s admission, Lucifer’s shoulders sagged too. He could see now that Vega wasn’t indifferent to her grandmother’s suffering. She didn’t have the skills to help her.

  “You go to other realm and get it back,” Baba said.

  “I can’t.” Vega covered her grandmother’s hands with her own. “What else can I do to help you?”

  “You know spell for regrowing toes?” Baba asked.

  Vega crossed her arms. “Why do you need to regrow toes?”

  Abigail shrank back upon hearing the mention of toes. Lucifer would have gone to her to comfort her, but he noticed the way Baba strained to bend and remove her slippers. He kneeled at Baba’s chair to remove her shoes and stockings to show Vega.

  “Oh.” Vega stared for a long moment. “I know a spell for taking someone else’s toes and attaching them to a different body. But we’d need a donor.” Vega eyed Abigail’s feet.

  “No,” Clarissa said firmly, an arm wrapped around Abigail’s shoulder protectively.

  Vega’s lips turned down at the corners. “I didn’t say I was going to steal them.”

  “Old woman does not need toes,” Baba said. “I do not walk far these days.”

  Lucifer shimmied the stockings back onto her feet and removed the scepter from her lap that hindered her from knitting. Baba reached for her knitting needles stuck into the balls of yarn in the bag beside her chair, but her hand swept past them. Lucifer handed them to her.

  “I’ll bring you a potion and an incantation,” Vega said. “Just don’t cut anything else off until I bring you the potion.”

  Baba shrugged. “Sometimes sacrifice is required. It cannot be helped.”

  * * *

  As usual, there weren’t enough chairs. Abigail didn’t mind sitting on his knee. Lucifer leaned his head against her shoulder, wishing he could be close like this with her all the time.

  Lunch was solemn and tense. Even Abigail was quieter than usual, and Lucifer wondered if the gloom in his soul was contagious. Normally he would have enjoyed the rich foods they had brought, but today Lucifer didn’t feel like eating. All he could think about was the confession he needed to make. He would have to tell Abigail about his infidelity and his child. He had been so close to telling her before, but he couldn’t do so now, in front of everyone.

  He noticed the way Clarissa coolly studied him during the meal. Perhaps it was because she didn’t like Abigail sitting on his lap. Or perhaps because Felix had told his wife about Lucifer and Gertrude. Kelsie looked from Clarissa to him, obviously aware of the tension between them. At least she was smart enough not to say anything about it. He didn’t doubt she would interrogate him later.

  Abigail seemed oblivious to the dour mood. She nudged him with an elbow, a smile on her face. “You aren’t eating. I picked out your favorite foods.”

  He noticed she didn’t say “made.” Probably that was because she was banned from the kitchen after trying to slip a complacency spell into his food.

  “I’m not very hungry.” Lucifer forced himself to take a bite of pie. It settled like a lump in his belly.

  “Maybe we should do something else instead. We can take a walk.” Mischief danced in her eyes. She looked like she was trying hard not to laugh.

  “No,” Clarissa said. “We don’t have time. Queen Vega was kind enough to allow you to accompany her to Baba’s cottage. Now that she’s done speaking with her grandma, we’ll be leaving shortly.”

  Vega lounged in her chair, languid and catlike. “Aren’t you in a hurry?”

  Clarissa said through clenched teeth. “We don’t want to outstay our welcome.”

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “You just don’t want me to spend time with Lucy.”

  Clarissa’s lips pressed into a line. She didn’t deny it. Lucifer couldn’t completely blame Clarissa.

  Abigail wrapped an arm around his neck. “You’re afraid I’m going to have sex with Lucy.”

  Lucifer choked on his pie.

  Abigail didn’t notice. She lifted her chin. “You told me people should wait until they’re old enough to have sex with someone they love. We all know I love Lucy, and he loves me. I don’t see what the problem is.” She used the same snotty teenage tone Clarissa had once used with Abigail when she’d been sixteen, which he’d observed while he’d been trapped in a cat body.

  Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Does that mean Lucifer loves Gertrude Periwinkle, then?”

  Abigail’s anger faded to hurt as she looked from Lucifer to her guardian.

  Lucifer’s secret was out.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Naked and Exposed

  Lucifer stared at Clarissa in shock that she would say such a thing out loud. Didn’t she have an ounce of caring in her for Abigail’s feelings? Abigail understood his need for touch magic, but that didn’t mean she needed to hear about every woman he was with in order to fuel it.

  And yet, he was going to have to tell her about Galen at some point.

  Vega kicked Clarissa under the table. “Stop being such a bitch queen. That’s my job.”

  Lucifer glared at Clarissa.

  Abigail tugged at his arm. “Tell them you don’t love Gertrude Periwinkle.” Her pleading eyes told him she needed to hear it.

  “I don’t love Gertrude.” He squeezed her hand. “She’s just a friend.”

  Clarissa muttered under her breath. “A friend with benefits?”

  Lucifer doubted Abigail understood that term. Even so, it would only be a matter of time before Clarissa either told her about his past relationship with Gertrude or someone else did. He didn’t know his brother well enough to know whether Felix would tell Abigail about walking in on Gertrude assisting Lucifer in recharging his affinity at the ball after coming close to draining himself of magic. Lucifer couldn’t imagine his brother would understand Lucifer’s reason for being with Gertrude that night either.

  Lucifer stood, setting Abigail on her feet. He took Abigail’s hand. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

  She attempted a smile, but there was worry in her eyes.

  Clarissa stood. “No. We’re leaving soon.”

  Vega grabbed Clarissa’s arm and tugged her back into her seat. “No, we’re not.”

  Lucifer didn’t acknowledge Clarissa’s words. He headed out the door, only slowing the large stride of his long legs once they were past the gate so that Abigail didn’t have to run to keep up.

  “I need to speak with you about a matter,” he said.

  She bit her lip, her eyes downcast. “About Gertrude Periwinkle?”

  “Just so. And another.” He struggled to find the right words.

  Abigail went on in a rush. “I heard Clarissa talking to Felix. She doesn’t like that you used to have sex with Gertrude because she thinks if you loved me, you would stay t
rue to me. But it’s all right. I understand. Felix told me what Gertrude is and what you are. Your affinities make you need to have sex with people.”

  “Were you eavesdropping, Abby?” A smile curled his lips.

  “Maybe.” She giggled. “But only when they talk about things they don’t think I’m mature enough to hear. Like sex. But I know about that.”

  Uncertainty rose like a tumultuous wave inside him. Abigail was smart and clever. In many ways she seemed like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl. On the other hand, her soul wasn’t, and he couldn’t tell what she understood and how the progress of her soul affected her understanding of the world.

  He halted on the path, taking her hands in his, comforted by the nearness of her. He didn’t know where to start. “I wish I could see you more often.”

  “It would be easier for us both if you did.”

  He nodded. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “About Gertrude and me. . . .”

  “I already know. She told me.” There was pity in her eyes.

  He wasn’t certain she did know. If Gertrude had told Abigail, her natural reaction should have been anger. “What did Gertrude tell you?”

  Abigail tugged him off the path, her feet soundlessly finding their way over twigs and decaying mulch. “If I had been better at my lessons, I would have been able to control my magic. I wouldn’t grow vines when you touch me like that. You wouldn’t worry so much about hurting me if I could do better when I’m with you.”

  “No. It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head. “This isn’t about your magic. My Red affinity magic increases yours. It makes you grow. Baba said it’s close to impossible to control—but for some reason she thinks I can. I haven’t mastered it yet. And because I haven’t mastered it, I’m going to make you grow, whether you want to or not.”

  “Gertrude told me that you were weak and almost drained at the ball, and I was too selfish to realize it. I teased you and left you in pain.” Her eyebrows crinkled together in concern. “Even knowing what you are and what you need to survive magically, I let myself use you for my pleasure and gave you nothing in return.” Her chin was ducked down, eyes on the mushrooms they passed.