Because of his upbringing in succubus Society's limelight, Rose and Matt had decided he should speak first. He squeezed Rose’s hand and took a step forward to address the crowd.
“Most of you probably recognize me, at least in passing. I was the rugrat in the background when you attended one of my parents’ lavish parties. Or maybe you saw me during my time working with David Lord under my father’s direction as part of the Indrawn Breath. If so, I’m sorry for that. I make no excuses about my time there. Remembering the work we did, capturing people, many of them succubi, for the fear factory, gives me zero pleasure. It took years for me to wake up and make a better choice. Once I did, I joined my mother in the Order, and we eventually brought an end to my father’s tyranny.
“As Gloria stated, Rose and I are here now to ask for your assistance. My father was able to kidnap thousands of slinkers over several years, and no one tried to stop him. Not until my mother made that decision. We’re here to see to it that sort of crime can never happen again.”
“What exactly are you asking of us, Snow?” asked a man seated three tables to the left. Rose didn’t recognize him, but he sat with Harry Drake, which meant he was probably a powerful incubus.
“Support, Tom,” Matt said.
“To get Torres her Senate seat?” Tom lifted bushy eyebrows, frowning. “That’s easy enough, but I get the feeling you’re talking about something more than a representative in Congress.”
“We want slinkers in key positions within Society.”
Murmurs erupted throughout the gathering. Rose could tell the snobbish leaders hadn’t expected so blunt a demand.
“You go too far,” said a succubus at the center of the crowd. “It’s one thing to advocate for kindness when dealing with the common sort, but this is foolishness. What do slinkers know about ruling?”
What do any of you know? Rose stifled that thought and her inclination to snap back at the woman. She instead clung to the talking points she, Matt, and Torres had put together ahead of this meeting. She stepped forward into the spotlight.
“I don’t come from money or power. I had nothing growing up. Even so, I understand your hesitation. Slinkers are nothing more than a liability for succubi the world over, am I right? We’re a faceless people, all living in obscurity. Any one of us could expose succubus kind to the world at any second. That’s why policing us, preventing us from using our gifts, has always been the norm. I’m sure some of you might wish we didn’t exist at all.”
Though no one had the bad manners to nod, Rose could feel a wave of agreement wash over the crowd. It might not be the sort she wanted, but she had their attention.
“Problem is, you probably know at least a handful of slinkers. In fact, I’d wager most of you are related to some. What happens when Society starts rounding up and torturing them?” Rose stopped shy of asking what these people had done when that very thing was happening only a few months ago, though the warrior inside her yearned to pose that question and many more. The crowd’s expressions had shifted to encompass a range between thoughtful curiosity on one end and plain discomfort on the other. That was when she knew she had them.
“For centuries, succubus Society has made it their business to keep slinkers like me quiet by seeing to it we rarely, if ever, use our natural-born gifts. A succubus who lives like a human is indistinguishable from a human. But that scheme is flawed. Jason Kraft proved it. Slinkers had no voice, which made them easy targets for his manipulation. But when his plans failed, there were suddenly hundreds of slinkers, many of them mentally damaged by their time in the fear factory, exposed to the bright lights of news cameras and the media’s insatiable hunger for the next big story. Suddenly, we were scrambling to keep our existence hidden. And I say we because I was part of that cover-up. It took hundreds of us working around the clock to keep the secret.
“This should never happen again, and here is how I propose to stop it: allow us, the Order, to become a true, recognized part of Succubus Society in America. It will be our job to care for, instruct, and when the situation demands it, punish slinkers. No more convincing us to give up our powers, no more arresting us when we do what comes naturally to any succubus, no more silencing the hundreds of thousands, possibly millions, of voices who live and work in this country.”
A reserved silence filled the room. To her surprise, Rose had managed to convert many of the skeptical expressions before her into contemplative ones. Not all, certainly, but many, perhaps even a majority. She wouldn’t take for granted that meant they believed her or would toss their support her way, but she had gotten them thinking, and that was a start.
A curvy blond woman wearing what Rose took for a $10,000 dress raised a hand. “Do you have enough people and resources to manage this sort of undertaking? You’re talking about a national police force.”
“To be honest,” Matt said, “no—not at this time.”
“And that’s where we come in?” asked Harry Drake tonelessly.
“We need sponsors, that’s certain,” Torres said. “We can’t create a reliable system without money, but right now, this very instant, we need your support more. Society is in a state of turmoil since Kraft fell.”
“And who’s fault is that?” asked a succubus seated next to Drake. “You all took him down with no consideration for the future. I don’t understand why you never came to us for help.”
Rose and Matt glanced at one another. He shook his head minutely, silently willing her to refrain from verbally ripping the succubus’s ears off her skull. Come to Society with grievances against Society while Jason Kraft was in charge? Was she insane? Rose clamped her jaw shut to hold back a fiery retort. Luckily, someone else spoke before she could lose her battle of wills with herself.
“Obviously, they couldn’t come to you, not as what you call slinkers.” The speaker was a short black woman with a faint accent Rose couldn’t place. She wore a purple and gold head wrap, a matching dress, and slippers. “Could you imagine a Jew taking grievances to the Third Reich at the height of the Nazi regime?”
Several people gasped at the comment, which made Rose smile despite her best efforts to remain stoic.
“We overthrew the fear factory,” Matt said. “We did it because it needed done and no one else was taking the job.”
Several people acted as though they might speak, but they subsided one by one, probably after playing through the words in their heads. What defense would they give for sitting idly by while their fellow succubi tortured slinkers? Some of them might even have benefited from that horrid scheme.
“You make a good case,” said one man near the back. “I like the idea of slinkers policing their own so long as they can do a competent job.”
“Who’s doing that job right now?” Rose asked.
The question seemed to perplex the man. He frowned until realization washed some of the color from his face. “I don’t guess you are.”
Rose shook her head. “Only in our organization, and that’s small potatoes. The answer is, no one’s watching the slinkers in America right now. They’re the last thing on anyone’s mind while Society struggles with succession, whatever that means.”
“I like what I’ve heard tonight,” Drake said but held up a hand when Rose turned eager eyes his way. “My problem isn’t with the Order; it’s with the company you keep. I’ve heard rumors you’ve already made an alliance with a vampire named Piper Ross. Is that true?”
An iron fist dropped into Rose’s belly. Though she had prepared for this question—they all had—it nevertheless blindsided her. She was forced to draw more calm, more mental acuity to keep her wits and avoid flubbing the answer.
“Yes, the Order is allied with Piper Ross.”
This time when the crowd erupted, it wasn’t with mere gasps. Several people moaned aloud, and one couple, thankfully seated near the rear entrance, stood up and left.
Rose knew how they felt. A little over a year ago, she hadn’t known vampires existed. She had thought
tales of succubi who drank blood nothing but a fear tactic and movie trope. Once she met her first vampires, a family of drug dealers in Mexico, she had been convinced they were all monsters driven by their thirst for blood ties. She saw in them no redeeming qualities, only the basest of animal instincts.
Piper had changed all that. Whereas the Mexican vamps had acted otherworldly on purpose to build up their mystique, the petite southern vampire, who styled herself the vampire queen of South Carolina, was nothing of the sort. She watched prime time TV, for God’s sake! Yes, she could act a bit crazy when it came to discussing her enemies, but who wouldn’t after more than fifty years locked in a single place? On any other topic, Piper was the most down-to-earth person Rose knew.
“That’s a no-go for me,” said the blond succubus at the front. “You can’t trust vampires. They’re only out for themselves no matter what they say otherwise.” With that, she stood, slung a toy-sized purse over one arm, and headed for the exit.
Her departure functioned as a signal for a mass exodus. Succubi all around the room stood, collecting phones and purses and other items before following that first defector.
“Will you at least let us explain our truce with Piper?” Rose stepped off the stage intending to follow the crowd outside. If haranguing them all the way to their waiting limos would make a difference, she was game.
“It won’t help,” Drake said, turning back to forestall Rose. “You might have wooed them to your side without the vampires in play, but even I can’t go that far.
“Lee, Renni, it was a pleasure seeing you as always,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help your friend, but I do wish you all the best.”
“We’ll survive, Harry.” Lee shook the billionaire incubus’s hand, and Drake departed.
“That could have gone better,” Rose said, turning to Matt. “I’m sorry. I think I said the wrong thing.”
He shook his head, his lip curling in that half-grin of his that always made Rose feel better even on days like this. “I don’t think you could have done anything to change the outcome. Those people were never going to help us so long as we’re aligned with Piper.”
“Why’d they even bother to show up then?” Rose knew she sounded petulant but didn’t care enough to change her tone.
“Perhaps they believed they could break that bond,” said a now-familiar voice behind Rose.
She spun in surprise to find the woman in the traditional headdress watching her, three guards, two women and a man, at her back.
“My name is Thandiwe Buhari. I represent an alliance of several nations, most in Africa. I came here because I heard you’re looking for support. Tell me, Rose Carver, is that still true?”
6
Avatar Diverged
Rose resisted the urge to adjust her skin-tight bodysuit, an outfit made to resemble combat fatigues. Mostly, it showed off her boobs and ass, which, by the stares she was getting from passersby at the Lexington, Kentucky, Comic and Toy Convention, was working. She hadn’t donned the thing in months. Thankfully, it still fit. Granted, it was a bit tighter than it had been during her time at Camp Den. She had been forced to shimmy a bit to slide it over her hips, and the zipper gave her a few seconds of grief, but she won in the end. So long as she remained upright, she probably wouldn’t split her pants.
As with the suit, so with Rose’s convention attendance. She hadn’t appeared at a con in some time. Last year, during her initial training with the Order, and even after graduation, she had spent weeks traveling to comic, gaming, toy, and book conventions to meet fans and hawk copies of the graphic novel about her life called Drawn. Initially, she had found these gatherings both nerve-wracking and confusing. She had no references for any but the most popular fandoms, and little enough of that. It was like traveling to a foreign market where people spoke some obscure dialect of English. She understood the words but grasped so little of the content that she was practically deaf and dumb.
That changed over time. With the guidance of Brendan and Luke Pruett, the incubus twins responsible for Drawn, Rose eventually came to not merely accept her duty of attending cons, she learned to love them. Week by week, she saw many of the same people, folks who adored their particular hobbies, stories, or whatever else brought them together. Mostly, they loved geeking out with their friends, and so did Rose.
The main dealers’ hall buzzed with the sound of excited attendees. Most wore costumes based on movies, books, animes, and every sort of entertainment imaginable. Rose waved at several women, and a few men too, dressed as her. After a few dozen cons that had ceased being surreal and became a simple honor.
“It’s like a theme park on steroids.” Olivia, who had accompanied Rose to the event, had delighted in dressing up for it. She wore a black leather jacket over a black tank top with black jeans and black boots. A drizzle of fake blood decorated her lips and ran down her chin, made all the more grizzly by her very real fangs. Usually, vampires kept the retractable double row of sharpened teeth hidden, but apparently, they could expose them as long as they liked without discomfort, something Rose hadn’t realized. Olivia called the look “biker vamp,” and she adored it.
“It’s fun,” Rose said, watching the crowd with a feeling akin to nostalgia.
Olivia pulled a Drawn issue number one reprint from one of the bins next to her. “You know, I’ve never read this. I gather I’m in it?”
“You, Piper, pretty much everyone I know.”
Olivia plopped down on a folding chair and began to read. Anywhere else on the planet—a bus stop, airport, shopping center—she would have appeared quite odd dressed as she was and reading a graphic novel. Here, she garnered no more notice than any other cosplay vampire.
Brendan and Luke commanded a large piece of real estate in the hall, seven tables filled with their comics, books, and other memorabilia. Sales reps employed by the twins worked the tables with gusto. Most were succubi, former slinkers attached to the Order happy for the work. The twins were delighted to have them since a salesperson able to charm rarely fails to close.
“So, this African woman wants the Order to join some consortium she’s put together?” Brendan, who was busy restocking a box of comics, turned a quizzical expression on Rose.
“I guess so.” Rose and the others had taken up a position at the far end of their vendor area, nearly out of sight of foot traffic. Fans could still see them, but most had taken the hint and kept their distance, a situation the boys reinforced using a blanket of charm to steer them toward the sales reps. That sort of thing might have attracted unwanted attention from Society enforcers a year ago, but with Society basically leaderless, the threat had evaporated.
“Africa? Seriously?” Brendan finished restocking and turned back to her. “What can they do for us? Hell, what does she think we can do for her?”
“I felt the same way when she suggested it, but considering the frigid winds I’m getting from Society elites, I figure the least we can do is talk. Her name’s Thandiwe Buhari, and her consortium isn’t all African. Mostly, but not all. She’s stitched together a bunch of smaller societies from Turkey, Egypt—”
“That’s in Africa,” Brendan and Luke said together.
Olivia chuckled behind her comic.
“Okay. Yes. Fine. But she’s got some people from Malaysia and a few island countries too. Point is, they’re searching for allies, especially in the States.”
“Because why?” Luke had colored his hair flaming red since Rose last saw him. It wouldn’t have seemed so odd—the guy was gorgeous and could certainly pull it off—if he hadn’t died his goatee acid green. The combination made him look like an insane Santa’s elf.
“Because of the Irish.”
“Oh,” the twins said, their expressions suddenly dour.
“Those bastards are bad news,” Brendan said.
“Um...Rose Carver?”
Rose turned to find a girl of maybe thirteen standing on the other side of the vendor table, holding a boxed set of th
e first three Drawn books before her like a talisman. She was shaking.
“Yeah, hon?”
“I’m so sorry, I know you’re busy, but I’m only here this one day. Would you sign my books? Please?”
Rose’s cheeks heated, as they always did whenever fans asked for autographs, not from embarrassment, but from pride and a sheepish sort of impostor syndrome. Odd that, since Rose really had performed most of the feats depicted in the first three volumes of Drawn. That made her less an impostor than some washed up movie star charging fans for a scrawled signature on a head shot taken twenty years ago. Not that rationalizing her thinking changed her feelings. Rose knew she didn’t deserve people asking for her autograph, but her fans disagreed, so she sure as hell would deliver it with a heartfelt smile.
She signed all three books, personalizing them for the girl, and sent her away with a free copy of the next issue.
“That girl must have some succubus blood in her,” Brendan said. “She slipped right through my blind.”
“There are probably a lot more of us out there than anyone realizes,” Rose said. “You make people afraid to use their powers, then they don’t teach their children about them. Pretty soon, you’ve got a generation of kids charming people without realizing it.”
“Those cost money, you know?” Luke said, pointing at the box Rose had stolen the comic from. He twisted his lips to one side like the Church Lady from that old Saturday Night Live skit.
“I’m sure your business will tank because I gave a girl a freebie comic.” Rose stuck her tongue out at him. “But speaking of money, I never asked how things finally panned out with the IRS. Are you guys still under investigation?”
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