Drained: The Lucid

by E. L. Blaisdell

  “Fine, fine,” Morgan voice teased. “Maybe I should have asked what haven’t you done?” Her stare became serious and penetrating. “What do you still want in life, Riley?”

  Upon hearing her name from the woman in her arms, Riley swallowed the lump in her throat. She had a million responses, but she couldn’t find one that was fitting. She didn’t know if it was because of Morgan’s stare, or the lack of distance between their lips, or if her brain had simply gone on strike, but she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she watched as Morgan’s gaze darted between her eyes and her mouth.

  Each time she found the warmth of Morgan’s hazel-green eyes, Riley felt her walls crumble. This was supposed to be a job—a means to an end. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything except for maybe lust. But with Morgan those protective layers melted away, and she could admit that she’d fallen into the human’s distinct pull. She had woven her own feelings into the hopes and fears of a client, and it was an indescribable level of intimacy. Everything in regards to what she had with Morgan was, in one word, different.

  And like a passing freight train, the freeing feeling was gone as quickly as it had slammed into her.

  Riley blinked her eyes in rapid succession as her muscles went rigid. Her mouth became dry, and a sudden emptiness hit the pit of her stomach. She had fallen for a mark, and that was the dumbest thing a cubare could do.

  A message vibrated the watch strapped to her wrist, and a notification chimed. It was the excuse she needed to pull her hands away, and she didn’t let the opportunity pass. Riley silently read the new message: All personnel should be aware that intruders were recently found on campus. Two of the three were apprehended. We’ve searched the building and have deemed it safe for everyone. Please report any suspicious activities. Nothing was compromised. A mandatory seminar will be held within the next few days. We will update everyone when a date and time has been scheduled.

  “Is everything okay? You’re frowning.” Morgan ran her hands across Riley’s arms. “Do you have to go?”

  Riley let out a breath she’d been holding and nodded. “I probably should.”

  She didn’t have to leave. The message hadn’t mentioned the safety of continued work in the realm, but Riley needed to get away. There were too many moments when she felt her willpower falter, when she wanted to push the boundaries of their friendship, and the last thing she wanted was to scare Morgan and become a regret.

  Morgan had endured enough trauma from one cubare to last a lifetime. Riley wasn’t about to become number two on that list.

  With parting words and a lopsided smile, she took a step backwards and flashed out of the dream.

  • • •

  Riley’s hands were busied with grocery bags when she first saw the fat manila envelope shoved into her mailbox. Her first name and nothing else was printed in the center of the oversized packet. She set down the bags of food in the hallway and tore open the carefully sealed envelope.

  She pulled free the thick stack of papers inside, and her hands began to tremble when she realized what she was holding. Josh had come through for her. He’d been able to procure Sean’s files from his time as a Trusics employee. A note in his chicken-scratch handwriting instructed her to shred the documents as soon as she was finished with them.

  She tucked the thick bundle under her arm and let herself into her apartment. Her excitement was palpable and so distracting that she nearly left her groceries in the hallway. She dumped the bags of food onto the countertop in the galley kitchen, abandoning the contents for the paperwork under her arm.

  She typed a vague text of gratitude to her tech-savvy friend. Thank you.

  His response blipped back moments later. You’re welcome.

  Riley sat down on her living room couch and spread out the paperwork on the coffee table before her. She had never seen comparable files on another cubare, not even those Trusics kept on herself. The first few papers appeared to be background and hiring information on Sean. She skimmed over the content; she was familiar with Sean’s story pre-Trusics, but there it was listed for her again. Sean Marshall, born Jean Martel, was far older than Riley. He had been sired at the turn of the twentieth century at the age of thirty-two and, since that time, had traveled the world extensively as an independent cubare.

  Amongst the background information on Sean, Riley found typewritten notes of several sessions with one of Trusics’s resident psychologists. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Josh had been able to uncover the intimate files, but as she continued to read the sensitive information, she realized the gravity of what she’d asked her friend to do. These weren’t simply human resources’ hiring papers or newsletters filed away in the company archives. The documents narrated Sean’s seemingly overnight personality changes from the man she had known to the aggressive and defensive incubus who had abandoned them all.

  The notes observed Sean’s angry outbursts in their sessions and the frequency of his increased aggression. They observed the feelings of obsession over Morgan, who the psychologist continually referred to as mark EP1606707. Among the paperwork was a final evaluation: It is recommended that mark EP1606707’s realm be suspended indefinitely and that Sean Marshall be admitted to the Trusics retreat and recovery program without suspension of energy. Time away from both the realm, but especially this specific mark, is necessary for his complete recovery.

  Riley continued to pore over the paperwork, elbows resting on her thighs as she leaned forward with her head propped in her hands. She herself had broken numerous rules all for the opportunity to spend more time with Morgan, but she hesitated to label that as an obsession. What had happened to Sean? And did it have anything to do with Morgan?

  The last piece of paper in the stack was an unsigned termination paper on company letterhead. Sean had fled before Trusics could officially end his employment. They’d remotely deactivated his watch so he no longer had access to the database. In doing so, they’d also lost their ability to track him. It was the lesser of two evils. Better to lose a rogue incubus rather than to allow him access to Trusics members’ dreams.

  Riley tossed the last of the files onto her coffee table and leaned back with a sigh. The notes had indicated Sean was violent, but had that aggression persisted after all these years? Was Sean still the kind of man who could torment an innocent woman in the realm or nearly beat to death another incubus?

  The still-bagged groceries demanded her attention. With a sigh, she stood from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. It was little more than a glorified closet with a hot plate compared to the gourmet kitchen at James and Heather’s house. Even Seven had a nicer kitchen, and he made nothing but protein shakes. Riley was actually an accomplished cook, when she put forth the effort, but with no real need to eat, her rental homes rarely had a decent setup.

  She lifted one of the paper grocery bags, but the bottom stayed connected to the countertop, separating from the rest of the bag, and all the food contained inside fell out. A small bag of tangerines rolled across the countertop. The carton of eggs hit the counter and the container popped open, sending the fragile contents onto the floor.

  The ripped bottom of the grocery bag was soggy with a milky substance that, upon further investigation, turned out to be the remnants of the coffee-flavored ice cream she’d failed to put away in the freezer. The container hadn’t been sealed tightly, and the melted ice cream covered the counter and began to drip into the egg puddle below.

  After the three-hour safety seminar at work, she’d found herself wandering the rows of the grocery store feeling uninspired by her food options. An insatiable hunger gnawed in her stomach the entire time. She didn’t know if it was a specific aftereffect of the external energy, like having the munchies, or if it was her body’s way of communicating that what she was doing was unnatural, but taking the extracted energy had left her physically hungrier than usual.

  She tossed the rest of the soupy ice cream into the sink. It was probably for the best, she reaso
ned. The calories wouldn’t have affected her, but memories of eating ice cream with Morgan on her kitchen floor would have. Even days later, she was having a hard time ignoring the imagery of Morgan’s lips wrapped around a spoon or the way her mouth tentatively licked the utensil.

  She cleaned up the rest of the mess in the kitchen, sure that it was her punishment for reading Sean’s files.

  Eventually there was nothing left to do, except shred the paperwork.

  Riley pulled the paper shredder out from under her desk and flipped the on switch. It whirred to life, clicking and making other mechanized noises. She shredded one thin stack of papers after the next until all evidence of Josh’s subterfuge was gone. The urge to hold onto the papers to reexamine at a later date was tempting, but she couldn’t risk keeping them. She could visualize the stern disappointment on Heather’s face if she came across the information in her apartment. It was better for everyone to destroy the paperwork.

  When the last of the paper had been shredded, but the machine continued to whirl, Riley flipped the back switch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She reached under the desk and yanked the electrical plug out of its socket. Trying to get out from under the confines of the wooden furniture, Riley knocked her head and the bump was enough to topple a single framed photograph on her desk. She grimaced at the sound of glass breaking.

  “God, this fucking day,” she grumbled to herself. “Can I get a break with this cleaning up crap?”

  Careful so as to not cut herself, Riley picked the picture frame from the floor. Free of its glass plate, the photograph fluttered out.

  The surface of the photo was marred with scratches from the broken glass. She ran her fingers over a worn corner. It was one of the rare pictures that she had agreed to in order to make her then-girlfriend happy. She and Amber had taken a day trip to Venice Beach during the earliest stage of their relationship. The Boardwalk and ocean were in the background, framing their smiling faces. Amber wore oversized sunglasses and dark red lipstick. The tops of her pale shoulders already showed signs of sunburn. Riley knew how to woo—she was an expert at courtship. Relationships, however, were a totally different beast.

  • • •

  This was one dream Riley didn’t want to be in, and she had no intention of sticking around longer than she needed to. The last time she’d accessed Amber’s dreams, the context had been entirely different. They’d still been dating, and Amber’s betrayal had not yet occurred. Riley had taken a taste to help return herself to full strength. Now, she needed to drain energy to ascertain the validity of Amber’s promise that she’d parted ways with the Truthseekers. If her intentions were earnest, her energy would be pure. If she continued to lie, the drain would be muddled, tainted. She wanted to be able to trust Amber at her word, but that kind of blind faith was a luxury she could not enjoy.

  “I miss you so much.” Amber sobbed into Riley’s neck.

  When she felt the wetness roll across her skin, Riley closed her eyes. Her breath became ragged as a flood of unresolved emotions overwhelmed her. Beneath the brush of her touch, she felt the slight tremble of Amber’s body and it weakened her resolve. Trained fingers popped open the buttons of Amber’s jeans and slid the zipper down. The lingerie had stayed in her closet that night. They didn’t need to talk. All she needed was to turn Amber on.

  Amber pulled back slightly, but her arms remained thrown around Riley’s neck. Her emerald eyes searched Riley’s face for some explanation or show of emotion.

  “Oh God,” she choked when Riley’s thumb ground over her underwear, rubbing her most sensitive parts.

  Hands clawed at Riley’s back, branding her with fingernails that would have left a mark outside of the realm. “Just think,” she spoke softly into the other woman’s ear. “We could still have this if you hadn’t betrayed me.” She grimaced at her words the moment they tumbled out. Amber hadn’t been transparent about the Truthseekers, but that didn’t give her permission to be cruel. No matter how they may have ended their relationship, she did care for the human.

  Amber’s hips jerked. “But I’m done, Riles. I’m done with them.”

  “So you say.” The succubus’s brow furrowed, and she blinked back her tears. “And so I hope.”

  When Riley moved the narrow patch of cotton between Amber’s thighs to the side and sought entrance, Amber’s breathing came in short ragged bursts. Her eyes struggled to stay open under heavy lids.

  It didn’t take long for the wisps of sexual energy to emerge. Riley didn’t slow, and instead wrapped a free arm around Amber’s waist for better control. Energy was unpredictable. Even the same mark could emit a different brand or color of energy depending on their mood and the context of the dream encounter. The pink vapor intensified in color, hovering around Amber’s curves like the evasive wisps of fresh cotton candy. Amber’s breath hitched, and Riley opened her mouth and breathed in.

  • • •

  The lettering on the door said “kitchen,” an employees’ only area that she hadn’t been in before. She pushed through the private entrance and found Amber preassembling side salads for the afternoon rush.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen your friends here today,” Amber said stiffly.

  Riley inspected her cuticles. “I didn’t come to see them. I came to see you.”

  Amber threw a final precut cucumber on a salad and wiped her hands on her apron. She brushed past Riley and left the back kitchen for the rest of the restaurant.

  “That’s great. Are you here to finally talk to me?” Her hands snatched an empty tray and she tossed a cleaning rag on top. “Or are you here to guilt me for something I already regret?”

  “You betrayed me,” Riley called out as Amber walked by. “You tried to use me to get information on my employer.”

  “I know.” Her words came out soft, but gruff. “And I wish I could change that.”

  “I want to believe that you’d never do that kind of thing to me again.”

  Amber’s gaze cast to the tabletop she’d need to clear. “I wouldn’t, Riles.” She dropped the black bussing tray on the table with a loud rattle. “All I want is to have you back in my life again.”

  Riley blew out a rough breath. She thought about Morgan. She thought of how dangerously attached she’d become to a mark with whom she’d be forced to lose contact in only a few visits. Dalliances in the realm weren’t enough. There was no future in that. Morgan had warmed to her company over time, but in some ways Riley still felt that she simply tolerated her presence rather than looked forward to it. If she felt more for the succubus, she hadn’t vocalized it. But with Amber, if given the chance, a relationship could possibly work. Amber had lied about the Truthseekers, but she’d never withheld her emotions. She cared. She loved her. And maybe that was enough. It was imperfect, but Riley had learned in her decades as a succubus not to expect more.

  “What are you doing after your shift today?”

  Amber’s face illuminated with hope. “Hanging out with you?”

  A lopsided grin came to Riley’s lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  December

  Riley flashed into the dream realm, dressed in a festive outfit that could only be described as naughty female Santa, but the amount of fabric found on her outfit would have only been enough to make a single pant leg on a real Santa suit. Her hair was long, curled, with subtle red streaks throughout to match the red of her costume.

  She stalked down the long corridor of Morgan’s realm home, and found her seated on a worn couch in the living room. With legs tucked beneath her, she stared idly into the fireplace where a blaze crackled and snapped at half-charred logs.

  She didn’t look away from the fireplace. “Working so close to the holidays?”

  “I’m one of Santa’s helpers, and it’s the busiest time of year.”

  Morgan blinked and pulled her gaze away from the fireplace. Her eyebrows arched when she finally regarded the succubus and her outfit. “Re
ally?”

  Riley looked down at her ensemble. “What? You’d rather I show up in some ratty old pajamas?”

  “I wouldn’t mind that. But I don’t hate what you’re wearing either.”

  Riley licked her lips. She might have been imagining it, but she thought Morgan’s voice had lowered an octave with her confession. “Well, it’s a special day,” she returned. “I figured that some eye candy wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Not even your girlfriend?” Morgan’s lips pursed. Riley didn’t miss the way her voice faltered over the final word. “Although I have to admit, you’ve been rather good the last few times.”

  Riley and Amber had reconciled, but Riley had been transparent that things wouldn’t simply return to the status quo. They’d been on a few dates, but hadn’t done more physically than a few stolen kisses. She was committed to taking things slow, to the bewilderment of her friends.

  This thing she was doing with Morgan had no future. She knew that. In a few short weeks, their six months would be up. She’d be able to reaccess Morgan in the realm in a year’s time, but a lot could change in twelve months. Riley’s own time in Los Angeles was similarly limited. There was an expiration date to every relationship she pursued outside of the cubare community. That was the price of immortality. But for another couple of years, she could at least continue to explore her relationship with Amber. What they had was tangible, and she knew how Amber felt about her. Morgan might have been physically attracted to her, but Riley was a succubus. Beyond lust, the woman’s feelings continued to be a mystery.

  “You sound like you’re complaining.” Riley set down the box she had been holding and kneeled down by the active fireplace.

  Morgan stood from the couch to join Riley. “No. Not complaining. Just … surprised, I guess.”

  In recent visits, Riley had forced herself to take a step back both physically and emotionally whenever she felt herself being drawn to Morgan’s thrall. It wasn’t that she had an obligation to Amber. Their relationship was still tenuous at best. Both were working to recover what had once been between them, dating with no vows of exclusivity. Instead, she resisted Morgan because relationships confined to the realm couldn’t bring her fulfillment. But the lucid human, perhaps through no fault of her own, continued to pull Riley in, little by little.