by Maribel Fox
“I don’t know who she is,” I finally admit. Sharing this with someone else seems like it could help… somehow. “I’ve been seeing her for the last few decades… in my nightmares.”
An egg flies off the cooktop and splats on the ground, yolk painting the tiles and Iseul’s shoes yellow. He’s completely still for a moment, then deep in thought as he cracks another egg to replace the one he lost.
His reaction makes it seems notable, then. Has he had similar nightmares? Is she calling to him as well?
It would certainly make more sense as to why I’m getting the call if it’s a beacon going out to multiple targets. I couldn’t fathom why she’d seek my assistance specifically.
“What are you in town for?” I ask, giving him the chance to confide in me without having to volunteer the information.
He shrugs. “Nice town,” he says. “How long you been here?”
In reality, he’s asking how long I’ve been looking for her. Which means he knows nothing, or wants me to. His sudden closed-off attitude has me feeling wary in turn.
“Not long,” I answer, my brain still churning. “How old are you going to be?”
He slides a couple of eggs and some meat products on a plate, turning to deposit it in front of me. “One kay. A thousand, man, why?”
That does it. It snaps into place, the memory of the story I read. But I need to check the details. I need…
“Is there a library in town?”
“Dude, how should I know? You got here before me. Maybe Rue knows, she— Hey, where are you— You gotta pay, man!”
I’m nearly out the door when that stops me.
Of course.
I reach for my coin purse, but of course anything within it is not currency here. I should really sort this out. The folks at the B&B were kind enough to accept gold and precious gems in exchange for room and board, but they warned me the rest of the world wouldn’t be as generous.
Still, worth a shot.
I snap my fingers inside my coin purse, using the summoning spell I taught myself ages ago to pull a shiny ruby from my hoard.
“Would this work?” I ask, offering the stone to him — it’s a bit much, I’m sure, but there’s always a convenience charge for paying with unusual currencies.
“Yeah, I guess I can make that work,” he says, pocketing the ruby without another word. He still seems annoyed with me that I’m leaving, but mostly placated by my sparkling offering.
Just as I’m leaving the diner, the ground swims up toward me and I trip over the corner of a booth, stumbling into the padded seat, but falling into another reality. The dream world — not the room of flames, but the peaceful clearing with the table she loves to lounge on. She’s arching her back, glowing with radiant power, a beacon that draws me nearer, makes me yearn for her.
There’s something about this place that niggles at me. It pokes at my subconscious and tells me to pay attention.
But how can I?
How can I pay attention to anything else when she’s laying there caressing her body, her naked body. Her hands roaming her sensuous curves, and she looks… satisfied. She’s flushed and breathing slowly, dragging her palms over her full breasts, slipping her hard nipples between her fingers.
I can’t remain a voyeur, watching her without her knowledge. But her eyes are closed, and she’s enjoying herself so much. I don’t want to ruin the moment.
Suddenly, she turns her head, eyes flying open, alluring and red, not the violet I expect.
Then she smiles.
11
Lili
When Maal leaves, he’s dazed, a bit shell-shocked, but radiating lust. He mumbles something about needing to process the experience before he stumbles to the door, and calls for the guard.
Once he’s gone, once both guards have left, I drop back to the cot and let out a satisfied sigh.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a meal as filling as that — especially with him being able to walk away from the encounter. Maal’s more powerful than the low-level Demons they normally provide me with. Those snacks never last long, though. The more powerful they are, they more they’re able to resist falling for me. The weaklings don’t stand a chance.
Maal though… Mmm, just thinking about the energy he fed me makes me purr, my hands dragging up my sides, my body still alive, still thrumming with vitality. He tasted like…
I lick my lips, the realization hitting me.
It’s my dragon that liked him so much. Don’t get me wrong, every part of me enjoyed every part of Maal, but there’s something more here and I know it — she senses one of her own in him, and she likes the taste.
Do they have any idea what they’ve handed me for a steady meal supply?
I think if they did, Maal would be on the other side of these bars.
Lying back, I close my eyes and let my mind drift. For once I’m not starving, I’m not weak, I’m not fighting pain and torture to be here. I can just enjoy my happy place. Enjoy the gentle breeze, the rustling of leaves above. I’m on the same picnic table I’m always on, in the same clearing, naked with the fresh air kissing my skin.
As tasty as Maal was, I still had to hold myself back, I still couldn’t feed the way I really wanted to. And even if I tried, I think the collar would prevent it. They can’t cut my powers off entirely, but they’ve dulled them enough I’ve got no real teeth. I’m still hungry, still pulsing with need, with desire I’m not sure anyone can quench.
I realize I’m not alone.
There’s another’s presence, and my dragon is alert to him immediately.
Another of our kind. More powerful than the last. This one is full-blooded, mature, not still coming into his powers like Maal who doesn’t seem to even know he’s draconic at all.
I don’t acknowledge him at first, letting him have his fill of me as my fingertips skim up my sides, tracing the ridge of my ribcage, up until I’m cupping my breasts, teasing my own nipples, a soft gasp parting my lips.
That’s when I turn my head and look at him.
I smile.
I’ve seen him before. Here, in this place. His wild mane of curly black hair, his curious, mesmerized look the same as before. His eyes widen, thick brows going high to reveal dark eyes, flecked with bronze, with bits of light that glow like embers. He’s not moving a muscle, stuck in place, but I want him closer.
Without thinking about it, I lift my hand from my breast and crook my finger, beckoning.
He looks startled, uncertain, and it’s kind of cute the way he scans around for some other route before coming forward. Like he could resist me. Adorable.
Slowly, he shuffles forward, as if I’m reeling him in, and then he stops, only a couple of feet away from me.
“Who are you?” he asks, brow furrowed now. He’s confused, but also angry. Maybe angry about being confused. “And how are you invading my mind?”
I snicker and prop myself up on my elbows.
“Why so grumpy?” I tease, crooking my finger again, making an impatient sound. I’m in that state of post-meal drunkness where I start to lose my grip on all the control and discipline I’ve worked so hard for. “Come closer, I want to touch you,” I insist, waving my hand toward me.
He doesn’t resist, though he’s clearly conflicted about the whole thing.
As naked as I am, this guy isn’t. He’s clothed, dressed like some kind of professor or something, and it’s too much fabric for me to be able to touch his skin. I lean forward anyway, fingertips skimming over his chest, palm flattening there. Then, like my dreams are coming true, it’s his bare flesh under my touch — hot and real.
He shivers under my fingers, his scowl deepening — not the reaction I’m used to, to be honest.
“What are you?” he asks, his voice hard and demanding. Not enough to make me pull my hand back though. He’s too yummy. I like touching him, and I’m pretty sure he likes me touching him too. His muscles twitch under my fingertips, involuntarily reacting to my touch, no ma
tter how stoic he tries to appear.
I shrug. “Kind of a mystery, I guess…”
“You smell like a Demon,” he says, no judgment, only fact. I trail a fingertip down his abs, wondering if his pants will also magically disappear if I want it enough.
Cause I do.
“Yeah, I’m a succubus,” I answer, finger sliding along the top edge of the trousers. The guy’s got remarkable self control to be able to let me do this without losing his damn mind over it, and that’s enough on its own to brew suspicion.
“But you’re a dragon, as well,” he says, another observation.
“Apparently,” I answer, pulling my hand back finally. Where is he going with this?
“I’ve never heard of a succubus-dragon hybrid before,” he remarks, his voice distant, lost in thought from the sounds of it.
“Well, it’s just super to be the first, let me tell you,” I mutter, crossing my arms as I sit back on the picnic table. Why is he so interested in talking when there are other, more fun things to be doing?
He regards me for a long time, and I see the wheels spinning in his head, like he’s trying to study me or figure me out or something. Not the standard reaction — at least not beyond the scientists who are always prodding and poking at me, but even they have lust in their eyes when they look at me.
What’s his deal?
“Don’t you want me?” I ask finally, suspicious as all get-out. He’s got the nerve to come into my happy place and not be all about fucking?
Unacceptable. If a succubus can’t fuck a tasty snack in her happy place, what’s this existence coming to?
He considers me again, this time letting his eyes linger over my body, traveling conspicuously all over.
“Yes, obviously,” he says, his answer abrupt. “But first I need to find you. In order to do that, I need you to help m—”
That’s it. He’s gone.
He disappears, leaving me alone here. Alone and wanting.
I could’ve used that after-breakfast snack.
Somehow, my happy place isn’t as enticing right now. Not when it’s empty. Funny, not long ago I was freaking out about it not being empty, and now I’m disappointed when it is.
That’s not good. I don’t know what’s going on there, who these guys are, and I’m trying not to hope. Even though that guy said he wants to help me, hoping is dangerous. Dangerous and reckless. Hope is the kind of thing that makes smart agents let their guard down. And then they’re broken.
I’m not going to be broken.
Maybe they’ve found a way to get inside my happy place. I’ve always thought it was an impenetrable mental fortress, but what real evidence do I have?
The blue sky above turns cloudy, gray and misty, and it feels like I’m not in control of this place anymore. I’m not sure how safe it is.
When I open my eyes, I’m back in my cell, back in reality, and I’m panting, wet, aching from being teased and left wanting. Not knowing what I’m hoping to achieve, I suddenly remember the guy on the other side of my wall. I could strike up a conversation... At least then I won’t have to be alone.
I’m pretty sure this guy is real, at least. It was touch and go there for a day or two, but he interacted with guards, and vice versa. He’s not a figment of my imagination. Beyond that, I don’t know much about him.
“Uh… hi?” I call out into the empty air, feeling ridiculous.
“Hola querida, interesting morning, eh?” he asks, chuckling softly. His voice is so dark and smoky, enough to give me goosebumps.
“Guess you could say that.” Not as interesting as he might think; it was basically the same song and dance it’s always been. But Maal providing more energy than most is new. And the guy in my happy place, not that this one knows anything about that.
“A succubus, eh? Gotta fuck to eat, gotta eat to live?”
“Something like that,” I grumble a little bitterly.
“Still hungry?”
The question’s unexpected enough that laughter erupts from me in a sharp bark, and I try to choke it back, covering it up, clearing my throat even though the ridiculousness of it is still playing in my head.
“You’re on the other side of the wall,” I point out.
“So?” he answers, a distinctly sultry edge to his voice.
I lick my lips, nipples hard, blood roaring hot.
“So… I can’t touch you,” I say. It should be obvious. Having sex through a wall is kind of hard.
He scoffs, and my head snaps up.
“What kind of succubus are you? You don’t need to touch me to feed off me, querida.”
Now he’s got my full attention.
“What?”
He lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Nah, chica. Sexual energy is sexual energy. You could feed off phone sex if you wanted — a wall ain’t no thang,” he says casually, making me furrow my brow, leaning against the wall to get closer to him, the stone cold against my overheated flesh.
“So we just have to… Wait, what’s phone sex?”
“Oh, for crying out… You’re a creative girl, aren’t you?”
All this talking about feeding has gotten me extra hot and bothered, and I can still smell sex in the air from earlier. I want this wall to disappear, but it’s not going anywhere.
“What… What do we do?” I ask, practically clawing at the wall, head spinning with one thought and one thought only. Gimme.
“Not so bossy now, eh chica?” he teases.
I growl at him. “I don’t know the process, that doesn’t mean I—”
“Cálmate. I know no one’s the boss of you querida. Imagine this wall wasn’t here, what would you do? What do you want me to do?”
I bite back a moan. Not only because I’m suddenly thinking of a dozen different things to do with him, but because he gives a shit about what I want. Not super common when you’re a succubus and everyone just assumes they already know what you want. Or don’t care — it’s rare for succubi to end up as anything other than paid whores.
“Would you touch me, querida?”
“Yes,” I whisper, overwhelmed with the new rush. This isn’t like anything I’ve ever done, and with so much energy still swirling inside me from earlier, I feel like I might explode, or combust, or faint? I don’t know. I don’t want it to stop though.
“Yes, I want to touch you,” I say, sliding my hand down my own body as I imagine doing it to his. “Wrap my hand around your cock—” He groans, and I get the distinct impression that he’s done just that, following my lead… I think I’m starting to understand how this works. “Stroking you against me, letting you feel how wet I am…”
It’s not a lie, either. I’ve been wet — non-stop it seems — all damned day, but this is next-level.
“How wet?” he pants, his voice rough and ragged, deep in the throes of pleasuring himself. I know that sound so well.
“Shhh,” I tell him, everything going silent and still. I’m sure he’s even holding his breath, not knowing if we’re being caught or what. I push my fingers deep inside, gasping before I suck in a breath, forcing myself to keep quiet enough that he can hear.
Quiet enough that he can hear the wet sluicing of my fingers moving inside me, and I know he can, because he lets out that breath he’s been holding with a groan.
“Dios mío,” he grunts, breaths labored and fast. “Touch yourself the way you want me to touch you,” he says, his voice straining with every word.
“Oh fuck,” I hiss, curling my fingers inside, tapping against my g-spot, making my eyes roll back.
“Play with that clit for me, gorgeous. I want to hear you come again,” he says, the realization that he was listening earlier — and biding his time for his turn — only stoking the flames higher. It sparks the inevitable thought of having him and Maal, the feast that would be.
“Fuck me,” I cry, not sure if it’s a plea or an order, but it’s not getting answered either way.
“Querida, I’m gonna—” He grunts, wo
rds lost, and I feel his climax slam into me, the release of energy, the rush of power flooding my system, sparkling in my veins, setting off the lightning chain-reaction of my own orgasm.
“Holy shit,” I sigh after a long moment of catching my breath. It’s the best I’ve felt in a century, the fullest I’ve been, but also, I had no idea I could do that.
Sex through walls? Without touching? Think of the possibilities!
He chuckles from the other side of the wall. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he says, sounding tired.
Most guys are after sleeping with me. Kind of a side effect of having part of your life force drained, I guess? But not me. I’m always keyed up, energetic, running a hundred miles a minute because my stores are charged.
“Enjoyed it? I mean… Yeah, obviously, that was great, but you don’t even know… I never knew I could even do that and having that capability while in here… There’s so many possibilities! The guards don’t know, and if I can do it over long distances…”
I wonder if it would work in my happy place.
There’s a thousand questions running through my head, and every new question brings up a bunch more things I hadn’t thought of before.
But then I realize that my neighbor’s been quiet for a while. I’m rambling on and on, too energetic, and he’s probably weakened by his interaction with me, so it’s not too unusual, but still, I feel obligated to make sure.
“Hey, are you okay? I didn’t take too much or let you go too far, did I?”
It’s a long, heavy, silent moment before his soft chuckle comes through the wall and releases the fist of tension clenched around my heart. Not dead. Good.
“No. It’s not you, querida. I was already dying.”
Momentary relief dashed, I sit bolt upright in bed, glaring at him through the wall. “You’re what?”
12
Dima
Hell is… not what I expected.
I always pictured fire and screaming. Tortured cries of the damned.