‘Tell me about the dreams,’ she insisted.
Although Denny was accustomed to calling himself an old married man, he still looked on Tamar with the incredulous eyes of a lover. It was still hard to believe that this fabulous creature was really his and, what was even more amazing, she seemed to feel as if she were the lucky one. Denny knew different. He was, therefore, determined never to do anything to hurt her, and the dreams, although his actions were anything but voluntary, seemed like a betrayal of the worst kind. How could he tell her? But, then again, if there was one person he just could not lie to …
Denny told her.
‘I see,’ said Tamar. Her tone told him nothing. ‘So they aren’t just dreams then. Will it happen tonight?’
‘No.’ he said positively. That was the funny thing; it had never happened more than once in a night.
‘Do you feel better, now? Could you sleep?’
Yes, I think so.’
‘Good. We’ll look into this tomorrow. We’ll get to the bottom of this,’ she reassured him. ‘We always do don’t we?’
Denny fell asleep almost immediately, taken over by exhaustion. But Tamar lay awake in the dark for hours staring into nothing and wondering.
* * *
His name, he was sure, had been Thomas before the blessing time. He had been a pretty ordinary family man and petty thief on the side * A small corner of his mind still wondered how on earth he had ended up here. Standing here, shaking with terror, outside the mouth of surely the largest, darkest, most sinister cavern in the world.
*[Apparently, for all his preoccupation with the sins of mankind, Ashtoreth had not bothered to screen his army of Nephelim for possible previous convictions. As long as they did what they were told now, he did not care who they were]
The sounds from the inside were not encouraging either. He had climbed for days in one of the coldest regions of the world. His faith had driven him on. And something else. It was as if he was not the master of his own destiny any more, which he knew to be true, but… surely he should still be the master of his own limbs? No, that was blasphemy. He had been blessed. If he got this right, he would be redeemed for all his sins forever. Moreover, he had no control over his actions any more. Whoever Thomas had been, he looked out from behind the eyes of the Nephilim now. And the Nephilim was the Lord Ashtoreth.
He entered the cave. From the shadows was the glow of a pair of red slitted eyes. He was not afraid; there was no room for fear in a heart filled to the brim with exhilaration and exultation.
~ Chapter Fourteen ~
Tamar had no ideas about what the dreams meant, other than the fact that they were apparently real enough to be wearing Denny out. She had noticed for some time that he had been growing weaker and had spent a considerable amount of wakeful hours herself, wondering whether or not to confront him about it. When, only the day before, she had seen him stagger and almost pass out from sheer exhaustion, she made her mind up. She simply could not watch this anymore.
She decided that, rather than waste any more time on pointless research, she would take the problem to Hecaté. Her instincts told her that there was something decidedly witch-like about this, and witches were not Tamar’s area of expertise.
‘There is no need for research,’ said Hecaté, drawing the curtains around the hospital bed, as if this would give them more privacy. ‘I have knowledge of this phenomenon that Denny is suffering from. The creature is known as the Succubus. Considering the history of Denny’s almost fatal attraction for supernaturally gifted women, perhaps he was bound to attract the attention of a Succubus sooner or later.’
‘As if we don’t have enough to worry about,’ said Tamar.
‘No,’ Denny argued. ‘I read up on those, it doesn’t fit. The Succubus, is supposed to be very pretty and seductive, this isn’t like that.’ He looked sidelong at Tamar. ‘Honestly, I’m not lying about that,’ he added, slightly defensively.
‘I believe you,’ said Tamar. ‘You are a fool sometimes,’ she added. ‘Did it never occur to you that the beauty of the Succubus might be a glamour? And you can see through a glamour.’
‘I never thought of that,’ he admitted.
‘What is a Succubus anyway?’ asked Tamar.
It is a kind of demon,’ said Hecaté.
‘Oh, well, that proves it then,’ said Tamar confidently. ‘Demon glamours never work on other demons, and the Athame is a demonic weapon – technically.’
‘Actually it’s a bit of a relief,’ said Denny. ‘I thought it might be … well it doesn’t matter what I thought. What do we do about it?’
‘Catch her at it. She will have no power over a woman. How long have these visits been going on?’
‘A few months, on and off. Just lately it’s been getting more often though – every night.’
‘Amazing,’ said Hecaté. ‘Most men would have been totally and permanently exhausted by now. The Succubus takes the strength of a man. But she has a weakness of her own. She needs the man, his strength, his power and most of all, his love. You must not give her what she wants again.’
‘How do I stop her? I feel so weak when it happens. I can’t fight. I can hardly move.’
‘You can keep your mouth shut, can you not? No matter how desperate you feel you must not tell her what she so longs to hear.’
‘I thought it was just a dream,’ Denny said. ‘Although lately it has seemed more real. I thought I was having prophetic nightmares again.’ He shook his head wearily. ‘I’ve been waiting for this thing to turn up for real, and it was real all along.’
Tamar put her arms around him. ‘You’re just irresistible aren’t you?’ she said.
Denny rolled his eyes. ‘Only to demented power crazed lunatics,’ he said. ‘Present company excepted.’
‘Besides,’ he continued. ‘It’s not me, is it?’ He withdrew the Athame. ‘This is what attracts them. The power, not me. I mean this sort of thing never happened to me before I got this thing.’
‘Yeah?’ said Tamar. ‘But to look at it another way, before you got that thing, as you call it, you never really had much to do with magical women did you? You don’t know that it’s not just you.’
‘Well, I don’t think so,’ said Denny stubbornly. ‘I reckon it’s the Athame. I mean ordinary women still don’t think too much of me, which is par for the course and always was. But magical women – they sense the power. At least that’s what I think. After all, I’m nothing special. I mean the Faerie queen didn’t look into my soul or something and decide I was just what she needed, did she? And Hecaté said it. This one is definitely about the power. That’s what she wants. That’s what she’s taking.’
‘And I think it is you,’ argued Tamar. – ‘But then again, maybe I’m biased. But remember I liked you before you ever got that thing.
‘That’s different.’
‘And remember the Succubus also wants your love.’ added Tamar not to be outdone in an argument.
‘Maybe it is a little of both,’ said Hecaté. ‘You have changed since you received this power you know. You no longer hang your head as you once did.’
‘That wasn’t the Athame that did that,’ said Denny. ‘That was Tamar. If I’ve changed, it’s because of her.’
‘Well, I suppose we’ll never know,’ said Tamar. ‘But whatever the reason, it certainly does cause a lot of problems, and this is the worst one yet. What are we going to do?’
‘Denny must resist,’ said Hecaté. She turned to Denny. ‘You must not give in to her. You must not say the words.’
‘The problem is, it feels like a dream,’ he said. ‘I don’t actually seem to have any control at all, even over what I say. Do you think I want to say it? I try not to, I really do. But I can’t seem to help it.’
‘I have an idea about that,’ said Hecaté.
* * *
By the light of an early dawn, the sun sparkled on the Mediterranean. Down there somewhere there was a cave, the Nephilim (once known as Julius – b
ut he no longer had a name) knew, and in that cave, he also knew, death or glory awaited. The boat he had charted was now far from the shore – the cave was actually a crater in the seabed straight down towards the earth’s core.
Without hesitation, he dived off the boat. His Lord would protect him.
The pressures at this depth should have killed him long before he ran out of breath. Neither happened, and eventually he saw what he was hoping for; he had not mistaken his location. In the pitch dark at the bottom of the sea, a light glowed, as if the very fire at the centre of the earth was shining through the great cave mouth beneath him. It spanned at least a mile in length, so there was no chance of him missing his entry. From above it looked like a volcanic vent; great swaths of steam rose from its depths, superheated water that would scorch the flesh from an ordinary man, bubbled all around the area. If this place was ever seen by mortal eyes, it would be taken as a perfectly ordinary geological phenomenon. But once inside, the truth was revealed. But no ordinary man would ever get so far. And if he did … he would certainly never return, not from this place. It was enormous, not just the cavern, which was as large as a city and as deep as the ocean again, but its occupant.
Below him, as he trod water, the water parted as if streaming off the sides of a vertically rising missile, and coming up fast, from the depths of the cavern rose two bright golden glowing eyes like small suns.
The Nephilim smiled.
* * *
‘Love me, love me,’
Denny opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, throwing the hag-like creature sideways off the bed. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said.
‘What? What is this?’ shrieked the hag, leaping to her feet.
‘I’m just not feeling it,’ said Denny. ‘I guess you aren’t my type.’
The hag leered gruesomely at him. ‘No man can resist my power,’ she said and grasped him by the throat.
Denny took hold of the skinny claw and forced it backwards slowly and inexorably. A weird look of triumph and cruelty sat oddly on his face.
‘Ah, but I’m not an ordinary man,’ said Denny. ‘In fact …’ And he transformed before the hag’s eyes into Tamar. ‘I’m not a man at all.’ And she reached out, quick as a striking cobra, and grabbed the hag by the hair, twisting the head around painfully.
‘He’s my man,’ she said, indicating the comatose figure on the bed – which, disturbingly, still looked like her. She struck out with the flat of her hand at the creature’s chest sending her flying to the corner of the room.
‘Why does everybody want my man?’ she asked plaintively. She stalked over to the crone and kicked her down to the floor as she tried to get up.
‘Can’t find one of your own?’ she sneered. She delivered a staggering roundhouse to the head.
‘Why can’t you all just leave him alone?’ she shrieked. ‘I saw him first.’ She kicked again. ‘He’s mine!’
‘A Faerie queen, a crazy witch and now you!’ she said. ‘I just want him to my-self!’ On the last syllable she took the Succubus by the head and twisted, throwing her over her own heels in a kind of awkward somersault.
‘Is that too much to ask?’ she said calmly. ‘Is it?’
‘What makes you deserve him so much?’ asked the hag standing up slowly. Apparently unhurt, despite the pounding.
Tamar thought this an odd question under the circumstances. ‘Well. I’ll kill anyone who tries to take him from me,’ she said, as if this was an answer.
‘Threats,’ sneered the hag. ‘That’s all you’ve got?’ And she raked her claws across Tamar’s face, drawing blood.
Tamar staggered back in shock. According to Hecaté, the Succubus was pretty defenceless against a physical assault. Suddenly this was not going according to the script at all. The hag struck Tamar full in the face and sent her flying across the room.
‘Okay, so not so defenceless. I can handle that.’ Tamar stood up shakily. The unexpected assault had left her slightly stunned.
‘You don’t deserve him,’ shrieked the hag looming over her as she hovered a little way in the air. ‘You never did, you just got lucky. What’s so great about you anyway? He could have been mine. He should have been mine.’
‘I know that whining voice,’ thought Tamar. She recognised the sentiments too. She grabbed the Succubus by the wrists and held the hands firmly (while the Succubus struggled wildly) looking at the fingers. On the third finger of the left hand, was a golden ring. Tamar made a light and looked at the face. A raddled, distorted travesty of a face but Tamar recognised the eyes. Cindy!
‘He never could have been yours,’ said Tamar gently like someone trying to talk a suicide off a rooftop. ‘But you know that really, don’t you?’
The Cindy-Succubus cackled hideously. She broke free and leapt to the window sill and hung there for a moment. ‘So, you’ve won again,’ she said. ‘For now at least. But don’t think for a moment that it will last. They’re all the same. He betrayed you once. He’ll do it again. He’s a man. None of them can be trusted.’ And with this parting thrust, she dropped off the window falling in a steep dive and vanished.
As soon as the potent influence of the Succubus left the room, Denny awoke. He ran over to Tamar who was trembling and bleeding.
‘She’s wrong you know,’ he said. ‘I’ll never do that to you again.’
Tamar looked surprised. ‘You heard all that?’
‘Everything,’ he said. ‘But I couldn’t move you know. Like a bad dream.’
‘Could you put your own face back on?’ said Tamar. ‘You’re kind of freaking me out – you look so much better than I do at the moment.’
Denny shook his head briefly and his own features returned. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I think a black eye suits you. You look like Iffie. Except she wears two black eyes.’
‘It’s the red eyeliner that gets me,’ said Tamar. ‘It makes her look like she’s having a brain haemorrhage.’
‘I think that’s the idea,’ said Denny.
‘I won’t you know,’ he reiterated insistently taking her hands and looking her plaintively in the eye. ‘You can trust me. After all where else could I find a woman willing to fight a Succubus for me?’
‘Almost anywhere,’ thought Tamar. ‘On current showing anyway.’
‘It was Cindy.’ she said. ‘And Iffie was right. She still has her godlike powers.’
‘I noticed that,’ he said, touching the bloody streaks on her face gently. ‘But we’ll be ready for her the next time.’
‘She won’t come back now that we’re on to her.’ Tamar laughed. ‘Just how irresistible do you think you are?’
‘Revenge is what’s pretty irresistible,’ Denny pointed out. ‘Not me.’
‘It was you that drew her here in the first place,’ she said. This was unarguable. At least, Denny did not feel like having this argument again.
‘We have to catch her,’ said Denny. ‘If Hecaté’s right, then she’ll go looking for a substitute.The Succubus needs a man. That’s the nature of the beast. She could start attacking at random if she gets desperate.’
‘How did she get to be a Succubus anyway?’
‘Maybe Hecaté can tell us, she seems to be the expert.’
Hecaté could. ‘The Succubus is a type of Demon usually,’ she told them. ‘But there have been cases of a broken hearted witch becoming a Succubus. Trying to steal what she could not get in any other way – love. It is a rare and extreme reaction. I am sorry, I did not even think of it.’
‘So, before, those were just premonitions – dreams?’ said Denny.
‘Yes and no. Cindy became the Succubus from the moment her heart became broken. And yet she did not, because of the Rheingold. I can only theorise, but it seems to me that that part of her was only in her subconscious. The Succubus was out there – looking for you. But it had yet to take physical form. What the ring destroyed in Cindy, when she forgot to forsake her love, was her self control. Her heart was finally allowed to break, and the
Succubus was released. Before that, I doubt that even Cindy herself had any idea that she was reaching her mind out to yours in this fashion.
‘She came to you because you were the focus of her heartbreak. But you are right. She will attack others if she cannot have you. Those in the most danger will be those who remind her of you.’
‘If the Succubus has been a part of her psyche the whole time, why did the dreams only start a few months ago?’ said Denny.
Tamar looked alert. This had been puzzling her too.
‘We may never know that,’ said Hecaté disappointingly. ‘There are dark places in the mind that cannot be explored or understood, but it is clear enough that, even before she faced you, she was already beginning to lose control. Perhaps, because of her plans, you were on her mind recently more than you had been before.’
‘And now she’s out there, doing God knows what to skinny blond men because of me. And he’s out there too, Ashtoreth I mean, also doing God knows what, also because of me. I seem to be right at the eye of the storm these days, don’t I? I knew I should never have crashed the mainframe. It’s really buggered up my Karma.’
All through this conversation, Denny’s face had been turning increasingly red. He hated this sort of thing; he was finding it acutely embarrassing to talk about Cindy’s obsession with himself. He had never wanted it; all he had ever really wanted was to be left alone, invisible – except to Tamar of course. And it was not as if it was comprehensible in any way, not once you took the Athame out of the equation, and Denny knew instinctively that, with Cindy at least, he could not blame the Athame for her feelings, much as he would have liked to. The Athame had nothing to do with it; Cindy had wanted him, not his power. He was not handsome; he had never had the slightest illusion about that. Even at the height of the “Geek Chic” era he had been just a little bit too geeky for general attractiveness. And Cindy had always seemed to prefer big handsome men in any case. Well, right up to the moment when she had suddenly turned her attention on him with the concentrated focus of a well-trained sniper.
Rise Of The Nephilim (The Tamar Black Saga) Page 15