Succubus Hunter

by Daniel Pierce

  “Not for long, she doesn’t” Lyanne muttered, taking my hand as we turned for the house.

  15

  I collapsed into bed and slept for who knows how long, waking when it was dark outside. There was a note on the nightstand from Lyanne letting me know that they had gone out for a bite and I should rest for as long as I wanted. It was hard to argue with that, even after sleeping for so long my body didn’t feel ready to leave the comfort of the bed. I decided to spend the rest of the night relaxing, and in the morning I would figure out what to do about Tandi.

  It had been a while since I’d had any alone time, so I took the opportunity to flip on the TV. It was an old set with a bunny ears antenna since the house wasn't wired for cable. Just getting any TV had been cause for a debate with Lyanne, who apparently didn't care for them, so I decided not to press my luck by asking her to install some ponderous satellite dish on the roof like we were average Americans.

  The skies were clear, so the signal came in with almost no static. I was flipping through the channels, deciding on whether to settle on a sport recap program or an old sitcom rerun I had fond memories of, when a knock came on my door.

  Sara opened the door tentatively and peeked in. “Sorry to bother you. I heard the TV and thought you might finally be awake.

  I waved her in. “It's fine, I'm up. Shouldn't you be out getting dinner with the others?”

  She fidgeted nervously, her hands clasping and unclasping around an old paperback book she was holding. “Oh, yes. I mean, yes, they invited me, but I didn't want to—I wasn't that hungry, and I didn't want to leave you alone, just in case something happened. Not that I expect something to happen, and I'm not much of a fighter even if there was something, but I could at least wake you up and warn you.”

  “Relax.” I couldn't help laughing at her train wreck of a monologue. “I appreciate your concern. You can hang out with me till they get back, then. Want to watch some TV on our resident antique?”

  “Actually, I was hoping to show you something.” She sat down in the bed next to me and held the book. I took it, bemused. The cover was brightly colored and featured a winged woman flying over a cringing man, under the title Wicked Seduction. The pages were heavily creased, and the cover was beaten up by years of abuse. It seemed like any of the other cheap pulp fiction novels written in the 1950s, the kind that sold for a buck, were forgettable the day after you read them, and became relegated to the back shelves of every library's Fantasy section for the rest of time. I became quite familiar with them my first days in New York.

  I turned it over to the back and read the blurb:

  Jack Johnson is just your average working-class New Yorker: he commutes on the Subway, he works 9 – 5, and he enjoys baseball on the weekends. That all changes when a mysterious winged woman, Jessica Joline, flies into his life. Jack can't resist Jessica's charms, and soon he is whisked off to a world of fantasy and adventure. But Jack might soon find Jessica's advances a:

  Wicked Seduction.

  The silliness of the plot matched the bright cover, which I found amusing, though I couldn't figure out why Sara had shared it with me.

  When I looked at her quizzically, she started speaking at a frantic pace. “I found this at the library—not the one you and Lyanne were just at, the one near my house. I was there doing some research—nothing too important, a few leads that didn't go anywhere, don't want to bother you with them, and, well, maybe some other time I can look into them again—anyway, I was doing some research and I decided to do a catalog search of every book that mentioned Succubi, and most of them were fiction, as you'd guess. I also found a few books on mythology and one fairly interesting guide to tabletop gaming—er, not the point. Anyway, I found this book. It's about a man who is seduced by a Succubus into fighting other Succubi, and at first it seemed like more trash, but when I looked into it more I found some interesting stuff.”

  I found it hard to believe that anything useful could come from an old pulp fiction novel, but then again, a year ago I would have found the idea of fighting Succubi with a magical flail unbelievable. “Such as?”

  She smiled, excited to see I was taking her seriously. “The author, for one thing.”

  Checking the book's spine, I read the author's name. “Professor Arthur Liam. Huh, you'd think a professor would have more important things to do then write trash fiction.”

  “According to his bio page, Professor Liam was an instructor in English at NYU, but I looked into the university's records and they don't have any record of him ever having worked there. In fact, I went looking online, and I can't find any records of a Professor Arthur Liam anywhere. He never existed.”

  Now I was confused. “So someone made up a fake professor to use as a pen name for writing pulp fantasy? What was the point?”

  Sara was practically twitching with energy now. “I think to hide real information in plain sight. I started reading the book a little. I was bored, honestly, and I needed something to get my mind off—well, never mind—anyway, I was reading the book and I thought it was uncanny how many facts about Succubi this writer uses that match up with what you've told me about the real ones. Like, in this book, Succubi are created when a woman is cursed by a pact with a demon, where in most fiction, Succubi are just kind of born that way. Also, the hero fights them by driving his weapon through the spot on the chest between the breasts. He has a sword, not a flail, but it's still pretty similar.”

  That caught my attention. I flipped the book open to a random page and began to read. There it described Jack stalking a Succubus, following it through the shadows of its lair, and hoping to catch it off guard. The shocking thing was how he described how he was able to track the Succubus without seeing her-- what he called his “Vision,” which allowed him to feel when a Succubus was around, and which sounded remarkably like what I had been calling my instinct or danger-sense.

  Exactly like it, in fact.

  Jack also felt that same cold sensation that was all too familiar to me when his attempts at stealth failed and the Succubus's attention fell on him.

  “This is incredible,” I remarked, flipping through the pages randomly and confirming that this was in fact what it appeared to be. “There's no way anyone would have just guessed this stuff. Someone knew a lot about real Succubi.”

  Sara beamed at the confirmation. “I think it's a guide. Something left behind by a previous Succubus Hunter to act as a guide, a learning tool, and hidden in plain sight in the guise of pulp fiction.”

  I knew Sara was right. What I had in my hands was incredibly important, a powerful tool for me to finally learn the tricks of the trade instead of just figuring it out as I went. “Thank you, Sara. I mean it, I don't know how I'll repay you for this.”

  She blushed, her entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “No, it's fine. I mean, don't thank me yet. I think the guide is incomplete. This book turns out to be just the first in a series thirteen books long.”

  That was going to be a lengthy read. “Can you get the rest of the books?”

  “Yes! I mean, I think I can. Pretty sure I can. They are, as far as most are aware, just cheap fantasy, so they're probably littering the bargain bins of dozens of bookstores. Finding them all in one place might be difficult, but I bet online retailers will have some of them. Just leave it to me—it’s kind of my thing to haunt bookstores, anyway, so the entire pursuit of these comes kind of naturally to me.”

  She leaned in close as she said it to look me directly in the eyes and let me know how she was about it. Then she realized how close our faces were, blushed again, and recoiled an inch or two from the sheer uncertainty of her emotions.

  An awkward silence followed, the only sound coming from the forgotten sitcom on the TV. Sara and I looked at each other, and I kept my face neutral but interested, because this was new to us. New between us, too, and we had a decision to make, here and now.

  She leaned back as if preparing to get off the bed. “I guess I should go, y
ou need your rest. Unless you don't want me to—I mean, do I have to leave?”

  I reached over to her, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her back closer to me. “You don't have to leave. Stay as long as you like.”

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  We stretched out next to each other on our sides, and she brought her hand up to touch my face. Her fingertips were warm, the touch delicate, probing, and careful. We were gentle with each other at first, our kisses soft and hesitant, as if the moment could collapse under the pressure of expectation, and then Sara sat up, took of her shirt, and stood before me, her breasts high and proud, a slight blush to her neck and cheeks.

  “Do—do you want me?”

  “Yes. Come here,” I said, and she came to me as I took my clothes off. A hunger grew in her eyes as she leaned forward to kiss the knob of bone in my shoulder, and the dam of her shyness broke. She was no longer Sara, the girl of books and chatter. Her tongue slipped in my mouth as she reached down to stroke me, but I pushed her hand away, pulled all of her remaining clothes off in a heated rush, and put my head between her legs.

  I tasted her slowly, softly, and explored every nook of her body with my tongue, feeling the shiver begin within her thighs like a distant thunder. When she pushed my face forward, the noises she made were nearly animal as her body cut loose in a seismic orgasm that left her shaking and gasping.

  It left me ready.

  “Now,” she said. I took one nipple in my mouth, tugging gently. “Harder is good too.”

  I nipped at the soft aureole, and she presented me with her other breast. I bit there, too, then on the hollow of her neck, and her ear, and then when I was close, she slipped her hands around me and pulled me inside, shuddering in pleasure at the completion of our union.

  “Just starting, now,” I said.

  “Good. Because the sooner we start, the sooner we can do this again,” she said, her eyes lit up with desire and a playful need.

  I began moving inside her, long strokes that made her gasp, and then she began to twitch again, driving me crazy with her muscles clenching all along my length. It was too good, and I told her.

  She smiled, and pushed hair from her face with a shaking hand. “Come for me, then.”

  I was not one to argue, so I began the long glide toward my own orgasm, coming hard as she pulled me down for a final, lingering kiss that went on well past the end of our pleasure.

  “I don’t think we’re ever going to need a new TV,” she said.

  Looking down at her beaming face, all I could do was agree.

  Early the next morning, I was awoken by the ringing of my cell phone. I rolled over to grab it and bumped into Sara, who groaned and buried her face in the pillow with a half-smile. Stretching, I reached past her and felt something soft-- Lyanne's body. I wasn't sure when she had climbed into bed with us, but there was a grin of smug satisfaction on her face as she nestled against Sara's back.

  I was forced to get out of bed and walk around to the nightstand in order to grab my phone. “Hello?”

  An unfamiliar female voice was on the other end. “It's about time you answered. You act like I have all day.”

  That irked me. “I was sleeping.”

  “Hunters need to sleep lightly, otherwise their prey might just sneak up on them.”

  The way she said “Hunter” rang bells of my trip to The Dispensary, and I realized who I was talking to. “Maura. I don't recall giving you this number.”

  “I'd be pretty poor at my job if I had to be given a number. Listen to me, Hunter. The shit you’ve been up to you this past week has rattled a lot of cages, and now the beast has come unleashed. The one you’ve been hunting is now coming for you, and it’s going to strike where you live. And soon. You'd best be on your guard, because you’re not safe. Oh, and before you think I’m going soft, this fucking phone call never happened, understand?”

  If the warning was genuine it might have saved our lives, but I couldn't completely shake that warning Lyanne had given me about trusting those who would trade on information. The problem, Lyanne claimed, was you never truly know where their loyalties lay.

  So I asked her directly. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “The winning side.” The call ended.

  It seemed the final battle was coming sooner than I expected. I just hoped we were ready for it.

  16

  “Do you trust her?” Lyanne had not been pleased to learn that Maura had called my cell phone, and she was even less thrilled to hear about her warning.

  “No,” I admitted. “But in this case, I don't think she had any reason to lie. What would she have to gain? Make us waste a couple of days preparing for Tandi's assault that never comes? It doesn't make sense.”

  Lyanne did not seem convinced. “But what does she have to gain by helping us?”

  Eve offered a suggestion. “Perhaps Tandi has been bad for her business. Her servants have driven pretty much all the other Succubi out of the city, and she's been worming her way deep into the city's financial sector as well. If she’s not stopped, she may soon have her thumb pressed down on the city's mortals and immortals alike. That’s bad for business, and Maura doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who’ll stand by while Rome burns.”

  That was pretty much what I had been thinking. “Either way, it doesn't hurt to be prepared. If Tandi doesn't come, we’ll discuss other ways of tracking her down and hunting her. And by hunting, I mean burning her network to ashes, her ass included.”

  Lyanne conceded the point but didn’t seem happy about it.

  Eve brought us back to the other topic that dominated the morning. “What about the book? There might be a key in there to defeating those Sisters of Pain. Or maybe even something about defeating Tandi herself.”

  I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn't have too much time to read last night . . .” There were some rolled eyes about what I was doing instead. “But I will try to get through as much as I can today. And Sara's already tracking leads for the other books in the series.”

  Sara looked up from her laptop, startled to be suddenly thrust into the conversation. “Oh, yes! I'm working on it. I've got books four and seven already ordered and on their way from Amazon, and book eight is shipping out from a bookstore in California. Books two and three are both at the library. Might have to just check them out if I can't find a place to purchase them. No leads yet on five, six, or nine through thirteen, but there are a few used bookstores back in the city I'd like to check out. Trust me, if they’re in print, I’ll find them.”

  The book was currently in Lyanne's hand, who was flipping slowly through the first few pages. “I'm more concerned about what the presence of such a book means.”

  “What it means?” I asked.

  Lyanne set the book down next to me. “Think. We know so little of Succubus Hunters, less than we know about Succubi. Succubi are the product of a curse that gives them power in exchange for the desire to feed on men, and, usually, servitude to the one who cursed you. But what makes a Succubus Hunter? Things were simpler when I assumed your situation was unique, that this power your mother granted to you was hers or part of her family's, and you were the only Succubus Hunter stalking these streets. But if someone wrote a guide, that means there are more. And that opens a lot of questions.”

  Her voice has that ever-present sensual undertone to it, but I had spent enough time around her to know when she was worried. “How many of them are there? How do they get their power? Where are they? Who are they? We didn't see any signs of others hunting in New York. Are you the last one or are the rest hunting elsewhere? Do other hunters bother to try and remove the curse, or are there others like me and Eve who are killed without a second chance?”

  I could see why she was worried now. Lyanne and Eve had both been Succubi, and though I had cured them, some amount of their power remained. What if another hunter came by and tried to finish the job, based only on the echoes of power that still radiated form their
bones?

  “No other hunter is going to hassle you,” I assured her. “They'd have to get through me first, and I find myself developing feelings for all of you, much to my chagrin.”

  She smiled, leaned over to me, and kissed me lightly. “I just hope you’re there for every cursed woman who needs you. Even if it bothers you to care.”

  “Of course.” My resolve was like iron.

  Eve groaned. “This house is going to get crowded, isn't it?”

  I spent most of the rest of the day with my face buried in the book as the three women prepared the house for a siege. The windows were boarded, the outer doors were secured, and the inner doors closest to the outside were also braced. Makeshift barricades were constructed near every entrance, complete with easy-to-access piles of weapons to slow the invaders down. We knew that it would take the Night Flail to bring one of the Sisters down for good, but heavy caliber rounds should at least stall them until I got there.

  A path was cleared from the main living spaces to the wine cellar. The cellar's door was the largest and heaviest, and in case things went wrong the plan was to retreat and seal the door, rest up, and try again when we had recovered.

  I wished I could say my time was as well spent. I'd never been much of a speed-reader, and the so-called professor was a particularly compelling writer. By the time the sun began to set I had not learned much at all. It seemed the first book was a primer for the rest of the series and only contained the most basic of information—most of which I already knew. There was some interesting stuff about the difference between the most powerful Succubi and the weaker ones, and a mental exercise that helped with resisting Charm, though that had never been much of a problem with me.

  As the sun set I decided to stretch my legs. I had been reading for hours and gotten nowhere, except for some confirmation on the fact that a Succubus was sheer magic in bed—a fact that I was going to be eternally thankful for, right up until the moment one of them killed me.