Succubus Hunter

by Daniel Pierce

  We fell into a rapid exchange, Tandi using the fireplace poker like a fencer's foil and me using the length of the chain to keep her out of reach. My vision gave me the edge I needed to keep up, and I struck sometimes before my conscious brain even registered the threat. The room filled with the clangs of metal on metal as Tandi and I performed a deadly dance, one false move possibly meaning death for either of us.

  I was gaining the advantage. The flail whipped out, slipping past the poker and toward Tandi's head. She just had time to lean out of the way, and the flail grazed her cheek, leaving a seared streak. I brought the flail back around for a low sweep, putting more force in despite the protests of my wrist, and when Tandi blocked it the poker snapped in two at its base.

  Throwing down the remaining half of the poker, Tandi shrieked, an oddly bestial sound for someone who had spoken like a society dame only moments earlier. My vision told me she was going to rush straight at me, and I brought the Night Flail back for a decisive strike.

  She didn't even try to dodge it. Instead she caught it on one arm, which seared and burned right down the bone, and kept on charging. I was hit with a freight train's level of force as her body collided with mine and sent me hard to my back.

  Had we always had that many chandeliers on the ceiling? No, the world had split into three separate, identical copies of itself, then decided to spin counterclockwise just to confuse to me. Three different versions of Tandi bent down over me and snarled.

  “You should have taken the deal,” she hissed. “Now I'm going to enjoy this.”

  She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. In my confused state I briefly thought she was kissing me. But then I felt something leaving, something that I could only describe as an essence of myself. It wasn't something I was aware I had but it was something that was a vital part of me, something that made me who I was, the spark that made me me.

  Tandi was stealing my life.

  I struggled but Tandi had all of her force pressed down against me. I couldn't dislodge her lips from mine any more than I could bench press the Earth. The Night Flail was there, itching to reduce this monster to carbon, but I couldn't get the force in my arm to strike out with it. I would just gently lift my arm and Tandi would swat it away like one would swat a fly.

  My life was almost gone. I wasn't sure it was enough to keep me alive anymore. If Tandi chose to get up right now and walk away, I would likely fade away. But Tandi was greedy and wanted every last drop of my life, and through the connection of our lips my body was sustained until she finished.

  The connection. I wondered if it could connect our lives, could it connect other things? It was a gamble, but I was as good as dead anyway.

  I couldn't strike out with the Night Flail, but I had just enough energy to move my arm so the Night Flail would cross over my chest. I held it near my heart and called upon the connection we shared.

  The sudden influx of power was overwhelming. The Night Flail became connected to Tandi through my life, but she could not steal the power of that which was made to destroy her. Instead, it stole the power from her, restoring my life and then some, until I was ready to burst from the energy. The power of the dozens, hundreds, or maybe even thousands of women Tandi had stolen the life from coursed through me.

  Tandi screamed and tried to break away from me, tried to keep what power she had to herself, but I was too powerful now. I stole power until my body could not possibly take any more, stole until she had no more to give.

  And then I released it.

  There was a flash of light and shadow, and the world went a million shades of white and black, until no forms could be distinguished and the only sound that could be heard was Tandi's fading screams.

  Then the world went silent.

  And a darkness that felt eternal descended, and then—nothing.

  18

  For one brief, glorious moment I was filled with more power than I had ever thought possible. It was the greatest feeling in the world: greatness, terrible might, a storm that could sweep away civilization itself and leave only shattered remains. My pain was taken away, along with my worries and my fears. There was nothing I couldn't accomplish, and that included the complete an utter destruction of the mother of Succubi.

  Losing that power . . . well, it was like crashing from a massive sugar rush, while simultaneously coming down with a massive hangover, and also coming off an all-nighter. And of course, there was the return of all the aches and pains of my body, which felt like I had just been run through a juicer. Mortality sucks.

  I opened my eyes to Lyanne looking down at me. “Are you just going to lie there all day.”

  Somehow I had found my way to lying on the floor. The world was far too loud and far too bright for my liking, but at least I didn't sense Tandi anymore. Seems I had really killed her. “I was considering it.”

  Eve was on my other side, applying a compress to the gash on my side. The slight sting told me she must have been using some kind of disinfectant, but with the rest of the pain in my body it hardly mattered. “Might be for the best. You're beat up pretty bad. Lyanne, you want to use your freak-muscles to get him to bed?”

  Lyanne clucked her tongue. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

  With a groan, I tried to force myself up, to Eve's protests. “The last Sister. Did anyone deal with her?”

  Sara took me by the shoulder to help me up. “I saw her go out by the Sugar Shack. But don't you think she'd be gone by now.”

  When I regained my feet, I felt like Hercules after he had completed his twelve labors. “Without Tandi, they can't make portals, so where is she going to go? She might be waiting for us to let our guard down. Before any of us can sleep, we need to deal with her.”

  Eve frowned. “Well, fine. But afterward, we're taking a trip to the hospital. Your body isn't going to get better with just bed rest, and Sara's hand is very broken.”

  Sara winced and hid her hand behind her. “I've been trying not to think about it.”

  Lyanne, being in the best shape of our barely functional group, led the way as we limped around to the back of the house. There we found the last remaining Sister of Pain. Or, at the very least, we found what remained of her.

  She was on the ground between the Sugar Shack and the forest line, her robes soaked with the black ooze that she had in place of blood, her head and body crushed in, and her legs bent back in an unnatural position. I felt a moment of pity when I saw her body was still twitching, her unnatural life unable to be ended by mortal injuries, no matter how serious.

  Standing not too far aware, grazing on some overgrown weed at the forest's edge, we saw her vanquisher: Handsome Teddy. His hooves and antlers were both stained with the dark ooze, though he looked peaceful, like crushing a powerful demonic creature was just a regular part of the day of any moose. And he didn’t seem to care much about the awe plastered on our faces.

  “Mother nature is a stone-cold bitch,” I said, but Teddy only flicked his ears in annoyance.

  Eve grunted as she stumbled on a twisted ankle. “Okay, we'll find a way to thank him later. Finish this bitch off, then let's get to the hospital before we all join her.”

  The doctors wanted us to stay for a few days, but that risked us exposing ourselves. Only Eve's Charm kept the staff of the hospital from asking too many questions, though I felt “which bear did you lose a fight to?” would have been appropriate. They patched us up the best they could, gave me some blood to replace the massive quantity I had lost, and prescribed enough painkillers to get a horse high.

  We got back home and just slept. And slept. Lyanne, during her waking hours, would make the occasional recommendation that we should celebrate our victory, using a tone that suggested what her amorous intentions were, but even she was too exhausted to go through with it.

  It was a full three days before we began to rouse ourselves from our beds, get cleaned up, and go downstairs for a proper meal that was more than just whatever we could get delivered
. I was still aching, as I had chosen to wean myself off the painkillers to avoid an addiction, but at least the most searing parts of the pain were gone. Now it was sort of searing pain.

  Sara made herself at home in our kitchen. Her broken hand would be in a splint for weeks, but she proved quite ambidextrous and capable of providing an impressive breakfast one-handed. We ate in silence, and only once the food was cleared and our bellies were filled did we feel like something approaching normalcy.

  I leaned back in my chair, finding a position that was more comfortable with my aching back and overfilled stomach. “So, now what? Tandi is gone, which feels pretty great. But I have a feeling our job isn't finished.”

  Eve picked at her empty plate with her fork. “Tandi's network contained dozens, maybe even hundreds of Succubi. They're all out there, except now they don't have anyone controlling them. Many of them will go feral, and some may keep their minds and become even more dangerous. Let's not forgot Tandi started similarly.”

  Lyanne was downing her third coffee of the morning, which she had brewed with muttered insults at Tandi for daring to question coffee's superiority to tea. “And the Succubi in New York are only a small piece of the puzzle. They are everywhere across the country. Across the world, actually. And with my finances, there's no place that's out of your reach. How does hunting in Paris for a few weeks sound?”

  Sara cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I actually don't have a passport right now because—well, there was some stuff, and—it really doesn't matter. Not that you’re not allowed to leave without me, but I would be—what I'm trying to say—”

  The sensuous laughter of Lyanne cut her off. “Relax, honey, or your brain is going to burst. Don't worry, I wouldn't want to deny Kurt any of his lovers. There are plenty of scenic locations in the country we can take a nice romantic vacation-slash-hunting trip to.”

  “Think there are any Succubi in Iowa?” I asked when the idea suddenly struck me. When I noticed the look I was getting from all three of the women around the table, I rushed to defend myself. “I just mean, it would be nice to go back home at some point.”

  Now it was Eve's turn to laugh, a much lighter, more fairy-like sound compared to Lyanne's. “I think he intends to introduce us to his family, already. Things have really gotten serious. They big on polyamory in Iowa?”

  I coughed and fidgeted in my seat as Eve and Lyanne exchanged barbs at my foolish suggestion to go visit my childhood home. Lesson learned.

  Sara came to my rescue. “Hey, before we start planning our next trip, shouldn't we make sure everything is settled here? Like, with Tandi? She's dead but there are still a lot of unanswered questions in my notes. She kept referencing ‘her business,’ and if there was big money involved that's not going to just dry up because the boss is gone. And also, what about the portals?”

  The portals. That was something that had be bothering me for a while. “Lyanne, didn't you say that only Demons could create portals? Tandi was powerful, but she was still a Succubus.”

  Lyanne tapped her fingers on the table, her face turned up in thought. “That is a very good question. One perhaps we can still get to the bottom of. We learned that she came into our home through a portal in the wine cellar, did we not? That means whatever method of creating these portals she had must have been with her. Perhaps it survived her destruction.”

  Eve was already on her feet. “I'll get the broom. We've been letting the ashes of those bitches just sit around for too long, anyway. Let's sweep 'em up and see what we find.”

  When the Sisters had been ashed, their robes went with them, leaving behind just a pile of dust and their ivory masks. Tandi's robes, on the other hand, had survived her emulation, suggesting to Lyanne that there may have been some special qualities to it. But far more interesting was what we found tucked with the pile of robes and ash.

  The small silver wristlet set with a blue stone didn't look like much at first glance. It was clearly well-crafted, unblemished silver all the way around with gently engraved lines forming swirling patterns around the wrist, and the stone itself looked as perfectly cut as any jewel I'd seen. But I'd been shopping with Lyanne in some of the most expensive stores in Manhattan, and I recognized that this piece was pretty simple overall, the kind of thing that would be placed in the budget case for those husbands who wanted the box to show that they had gone shopping in designer store but didn't have the budget for it.

  Lyanne knew far more about jewelry than me, though, so when she spent some time carefully inspecting it, I thought I must have misjudged its value. I had no idea by how much.

  “This is a portal stone,” she announced, saying the words carefully, as if even she wasn't sure of her discovery. “Tandi never had the power to make portals, this stone did. And now that we have it, we do.”

  Everyone was silent as we all looked in wonder, and a bit of trepidation, at the powerful magical artifact in front of us. Sara couldn't keep quiet for long. “So, wait, that means I can go—I mean, with the power of portals, all those places.”

  Lyanne tossed the wristlet to me. “It means I do not believe your lack of a passport is an issue any longer.”

  I looked over the wristlet and could feel its magic with my instincts, the power that nestled within the stone. And I knew I had just been given a tool to my hunting just as great as the Night Flail.

  The wristlet was a bit small for a man my size, though, so I went digging through our crafts box until I found a leather shoelace. I tied the shoelace around the wristlet and hung it around my neck, stopping to enjoy the feeling of the power as it nestled against my chest and granted to me the power to be anywhere, at any time.

  I smiled at Lyanne, Sara, and Eve, my three assistants, supporters, and friends in this mission that had come to define my life.

  “Now the undead can fear us popping in unannounced.”

  Epilogue

  “So that's really all of them?”

  When I had imagined the collected works of my predecessor, I thought a great anthology of thick tomes with leather covers would illuminate all the secrets of the world of the immortals. I should have guessed from the first book that what I would get was a pile of paperback novels that looked like they belonged in a bargain bin at a discount bookstore.

  The four of us were sitting around the fireplace in my study, drinking wine, which I was proud to declare I was finally getting the hang of understanding. Lyanne told me it was an acquired taste, one which I was halfway to fully acquiring. Laid out in front us were the twelve sequels to Wicked Seduction by Professor Arthur Liam. They each resembled the first: a beat-up cover featuring a woman in some state of undress, some with abnormalities like wings or fangs, others looking far more normal, and a man cringing, or running, or lying still like he was asleep.

  I picked up the second book in the series and confirmed that the blurb was about Jack Johnson's continuing adventures. Nothing that this series actually served as a guide to Succubus Hunters.

  Sara was beaming with pride. “Yep! It took four different online stores, two libraries, and one used bookstore, but I managed to track them all down. I hope you don't mind, but I was excited and I started flipping through them—I'm a pretty fast reader—and I have a theory about them. I think each one serves as a guide to a different kind of Succubus, the one that is alluded to on the cover, with specific information and tricks to beating it. Except for the first book, which served as kind of a primer for novices and laid out the foundations for the rest of the series.”

  I laid the books side-by-side so I could see all twelve covers at once and suddenly felt a lot more weight to the books than I had a moment ago. “All of them are about different kinds of Succubi? Are there really that many?”

  Lyanne was refilling her glass for the fourth time. I wasn’t sure if it was possible for her to get drunk. “Did you really think we all fell under a single type? That is actually a bit offensive.”

  Eve was refilling her glass for the
third time. I knew she could get drunk. “What do you expect from a kid from Iowa? They're all corn farmers.”

  I might have bristled from the insult to my home state if I wasn't so concerned with the books. “I didn't mean it like that. I just hoped the rules were the same for all them, I suppose.”

  Eve snickered, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol already. “Don't feel too bad. I didn't even know there were this many kinds, and I was one.”

  Lyanne glanced over the covers as if noticing them for the first time. “I was aware of three or four. I will admit this is an interesting discovery, if what Sara claims is true. Some of these look very . . . unique.”

  “So, what will we hunt first?” I asked, thumbing through the second book. On the cover, a redhead with small wings was doing unspeakable things to a businessman in the back of a taxi. All in all, the art was stellar, if disturbing.

  Lyanne pointed to the book I held. “We go after her first. Or her kind, anyway.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  She sniffed with dignity, then grinned. “I don’t like the ways cabs smell, and they overcharge me.”

  Pouring more wine, I smiled at her, then Sara and Eve, who toasted our decision. “Good enough for me. Next stop, the back seat.”

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