by O. M. Grey
Jeffries hands split open as the demon’s blue scaly fingers pushed through, and I knew I had but a moment to act before the demon was upon me, and a few drops of holy water wouldn’t work fast enough before he ripped my head off. Improvising, I took some of the vials from my arm apparatus and loaded them into The Slayer. They were about the same size and shape of the wooden bullets, so hopefully it wouldn’t jam the gun. Thrusting The Slayer forward until I felt the barrel against the morphing thing’s chest. Just as its horrid claw clamped around my throat and started squeezing, I pulled the trigger.
I couldn’t tell if The Slayer had misfired or not at first. Avalon was tugging on the demon’s arm, trying to get him to let me loose, but then revelation came over the demon’s face. Realization of what had just happened. The holy water had pierced the demon’s heart and was dissolving it from the inside out.
It released me, and Avalon came to my aid as my knees faltered.
“Not yet,” Constance said, standing behind him, arm outstretched to the half-demon-half-Jeffries head. The dual creature wailed anew as Constance pulled Jeffries and the demon apart. Channeling Jeffries and his consciousness through her body and into the poppet in her other hand.
I held Avalon close and massaged my throat, unable to process what I saw. The weakened incubus dripped black bile from the heart and groin wound. Even the snakes on its head slowed, slumped into lethargy.
Constance cinched the head of the poppet and tossed it onto the bed, unceremoniously.
“Now,” she said. Blood caked around her lips and down her naked thighs, she stepped up behind the dying body of the demon and placed a hand on either side of its head.
But the demon was not yet ready to die. It spun around and faltered in its weakness, but not before knocking Constance’s legs out from under her. She hit the floor with a thud, but in a moment had sprung into a readied stance.
Then, she shifted.
Not into Polly Pooter.
Not into anything remotely human.
She shifted.
Long leathery wings burst from her back, spreading the width of the room. Her ears elongated into sharp points, and her flesh cracked, still the same hue, only as if her entire body had been shattered into a million pieces, like broken porcelain. Talons emerged from the tip of each finger, and her eyes turned completely black. Bony protrusions extended from each shoulder and at the end of each wing. Her lips, full and blood red, turned up into a smile, and said, “Let’s try this again, shall we?”
The incubus hissed, as he lay weakened, and Avalon held me tightly against her.
Constance, in what I could only assume to be her true form, stepped up to the demon again and placed her clawed, shattered hands on either side of his head.
“Wait,” it said. “Don’t.”
“No,” she said.
Nothing more.
Then twisted his head clear off.
“Arthur,” she shouted. “Finish it.”
I scrambled to my feet and out of Avalon’s grasp, who didn’t want me to be away from her, nor I from her, readied the holy water apparatus, and shot a stream into its gaping neck. It sizzled and dissolved. The creature’s head, which Constance held by the now-limp mushroom-tipped snakes, screamed in agony as its body melted into Jeffries’ fine rug. Soon to follow, his head disintegrated in a pile of ooze, like sand dripping through an hourglass, until Constance’s hand was empty. She spun around, and when she faced us again, she looked human. Like Constance again, fully clothed. Blood gone. Standing strong.
She folded her hands properly on top of one another and said, “That’s done. Thank you, Arthur, Avalon, for your help. Demon sausage.”—soft chuckle—“who knew it was so potent?”
“Is it dead?” I asked, although that seemed rather evident.
“This manifestation is, for now. Evil cannot be destroyed, sadly, but it has been cast back to hell. It will take some time to work its way back to this plane. If ever. Likely not even in our long lives.”
“Good work,” I said.
“What about Polly?” Constance asked.
“I instructed Thomas to secure her transport back to the Colonies.”
“Perfect. She’ll need the support of family to get through the next year.”
“Thank goodness it’s all over.” Avalon’s soft lips pressed against my temple. I was so grateful she was here, unharmed, at least not permanently harmed. I loved her so much. Closing my eyes, I savored this moment in time, embraced in Avalon’s love. Safe.
“Ahem,” Constance cleared her throat, and when I opened my eyes, in my horror, Chastity stood in her place. “Your turn,” she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CONSTANCE
Still charged from the demon meal, such power, I held Avalon against the wall with one extended hand, and with the other, I made a sharp movement that pulled Arthur away from her and cast him onto the bloody bed, which had so recently almost become my tomb.
“No!” Avalon cried, but I didn’t listen, just kept her held to the wall with my right hand extended out toward her. My left motioned through the air, imposing my will on Arthur. I stripped him bare and pinned him onto the bed, legs and arms spread wide.
Always. My will.
“Please,” Avalon pleaded. “He just saved you! Without him you would be dead. Without him, I’d be dead. Please! Constance, please. I beg you. Spare him.”
Whipping my head around to her, I reasoned, “Look at him! He was barely a man when he died. He's a perpetual child in the body of a man with supernatural power. Do you know how dangerous that combination is? He wants what he wants when he wants it, and he cares nothing about anything or anyone else. People are just a means to an end. They're food, or tools for ejaculation and pleasure. They're entertainment, like watching a play. If he doesn't like the show anymore, he finds another theatre, burning the last. You’ve experienced this, Avalon. You know this.”
“I do, and I was hurt and angry, and I’m still hurt and angry. And. I don’t know. He does deserve something, but not this. I—I love him.”
“You are bonded to him, through his cruelty. Ironic, indeed, but it creates a very deep, almost unbreakable link. Once you’re free of him, you will thank me. Just as Polly will thank us for freeing her. Jeffries got what he deserved, and now Arthur will, too.”
“He’s not like Jeffries. He’s not possessed with a demon. He’s not a rapist.”
“Tsk—tsk—tsk.” I shook my head in disappointment, but with understanding. Denial. A durable force. “You told me how he treated you that day. That was rape. You even said so yourself, Avalon.”
“It was just that once. Maybe he just got carried away.”
“He is a rapist, Avalon, and trust me, it wasn’t just that once. He’s not possessed with a demon, no. He, like Jeffries, chooses to violate, to hurt. Jeffries’ choices attracted that demon. We’ve been over this, and although the severity might not match Jeffries, Arthur has been doing this far, far longer. That’s the thing about rape, one only needs to commit it once to be labeled a rapist. That never goes away. Even if you were the first, which you weren’t, and even if you were the last, which you weren’t—isn’t that right Arthur. The chambermaid on the airship? Yes. At least her in the past week, isn’t that right?”
“Let me go, you ungrateful bitch,” Arthur spat, but I sewed his mouth shut so he couldn’t say any more.
“That’s not true. Arthur, is that true?”
“Careful, Arthur, your response will determine whether I will show mercy or not. You’ve already earned some for saving me, but you have hundreds of years and thousands of women to atone for. Answer her carefully.”
“Arthur? My love?”
Arthur, much to my great surprise, admitted it. He nodded, slowly, with shame.
Avalon’s horror erupted from her soul, and as I released my hold on her, she fell to her knees in grief. Weeping. Gasping for breath. “It can’t be. It can’t be. I gave myself to you. Trusted you. Loved you.
And this? How can you be this? Has everything been a lie? All of it?”
Again, shocked, Arthur nodded. At first, but then his eyes widened and he shook his head from side to side.
“Don't you see? To him, you are not a person with feelings, with a heart and soul. He took those from you. Arthur did one worse than these other men. He not only destroyed your soul through insidious manipulation and eventual betrayal, he quite literally stole your soul. He took your humanity, dehumanized you because it's what he wanted. Now you, too, are damned, and you never had a choice.
“You but fell in love.”
“I did fall in love,” she said so softly, broken. “So deeply in love. Never before. I had sworn off love because of this, but he convinced me. He broke down my protective barriers and made me love him. All…for nothing.”
Arthur shook his head, more violently than before. Fixing his eyes on me, he pleaded with me, jutting his chin out at me, wanting to speak.
“Do you want to hear what this man has to say, Avalon?”
“It will only be more lies.”
“Likely.”
“I don’t care. Let him speak.”
I loosened the cords around his mouth, allowing him to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Ava,” he said. “I am a horrible monster, and I have been for centuries. She’s right, but I’ve changed. Your love, my dear. I’ve only realized how much in just the last few days, and seeing how Jeffries’ lust for power and sex consumed him, destroyed him. I’ve learned. I see my pattern now. I see what I’ve done to you, to others. Always expecting perfection, expecting Catherine. But even she wasn’t perfect, but she was perfect because I knew her. I took the time to know her, to love her, to respect her. I don’t want a replacement for Catherine any more. I want you. I want to invest in this with you. Just in that moment before she turned to Chastity, I knew. I felt it with every fiber of my being. I love you, Ava. I’m safe with you, and I shan’t treat you so roughly ever again.”
Tears fell from Avalon’s eyes one after the next, but I just rolled mine. I had heard it all before, although, they didn’t usually admit to rape, no matter what, and this one did. He turned to me and said, “Please. I’ve changed. Please show me mercy.”
“What of the thousands of women you destroyed over the years? Thousands! Do they get no vengeance? And the ones you killed, they are the lucky ones, save poor Lady Haldenby, of course. The others you cast aside, alone, ruined, devastated insane. What of them, Arthur? You say you've changed? I've been looking for you for a hundred years, Arthur Tudor. Oh yes, I know who you are.”
“I have changed, and I don’t blame you for not believing me. You’re right. I do deserve to be punished for what I’ve done. I have destroyed thousands. Every word you say is true, and I am completely at your mercy.”
This was new.
“Please,” Avalon whispered, and began crawling over to Arthur spread out on the bed. When she got to the edge, she reached out and placed a hand on his foot, looking up at him with love.
“Ava, his love for you wasn’t real. He’s even admitted as such. Astounding, really, but there it is. He says he loves you now, but how can you trust it? Everything has been a lie, and after the way he’s treated you, violated you, cast you aside. Remember, just days ago, he threw you over for me. You know full well just how intimate we were. He didn’t love you. It was an illusion, a fantasy, Avalon.”
“My love was real. My love is real, and I ask for your mercy, too. Please, Constance. Please. Spare him.”
“You are foolish to believe he will be different with you, Avalon. Do you think your love cured him? This monster who has destroyed thousands. It is our own arrogance to think we can love the monster out of the man. More often than not, the woman who tries damns herself to a lifetime of abuse-but, your choice, my dear.
“When the newness wears off, again, and he becomes bored, again—and he will—you will see his true face. You already have, remember, when he was fucking me. When he was forcing you, enjoying your tears. Your sorrow and fear feeding his lust. But this time, I'll be there, waiting.”
“Thank you!” Avalon said, throwing herself onto Arthur’s body, kissing him all over. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“I’m not finished,” I said. “He will be punished for the thousands he destroyed.”
“But—you just said.”
“I’ll make a compromise, as I’m not an unreasonable woman. Besides, he admitted it, seeming to repent without provocation.” I moved to the opposite edge of the bed and sat down, transforming into the visage of Constance once again. “You have so much faith in him, Ava, and I believe it is quite unwarranted, but this is a new situation for me. First, he’s repentant. Never in five centuries has a man admitted to it. Well, not with the intention of accepting his punishment. Repentance does not go unnoticed. No. So, he’s repentant. Next, he’s apologized, which is often empty words, but mixed with his willingness to take what punishment I deliver, he might be sincere.”
“I am!”
“Shut up, Arthur. I’m not finished. Plus, he did just save my life, which is also worth some mercy, as I’ve already said, and finally, you’re requesting it. My friend. Although I know well his kind, and as soon as he’s out of this entanglement and threat of eternal torment, give it a week or two—a few months at the outset—he’ll be back to his old tricks.”
“I won’t! I promise!”
“Enough from you.” I tightened the cord around his lips again. “The ladies are talking. You are no longer in control, Arthur. Not even a little bit. Your fate is completely up to us. Your freedom, gone. Your entire existence is in our hands. What do you think we should do with you?”
Again, surprise. He didn’t fight or rail. No anger appeared in his eyes, just a tear.
With a nod, with complete acceptance of his fate, he relented.
“Here is what I shall do, and I’m afraid, this is not up for negotiation. You believe in him, Avalon, so I will allow it. But if you are mistaken, if he, but for a moment falters, the punishment will take hold. Now and forever. Stand back, and let me do my work.”
“Don’t hurt him,” Avalon cried.
“Ava. Let me do my work, or this compromise is void. Stand back or I shall force you back, and I really don’t want to do that. This must be done.”
Avalon nodded, caressed the side of Arthur’s face, and kissed his sewn lips, then stepped away, hands pulled in tight, fearful of what I would do. Removing the poppet I had prepared from my reticule, I laid it on the bed, and Avalon gasped. I shot her a warning glance, then removed the scissors and blade as well. After taking a clipping of his auburn hair and a sample of blood, I closed the poppet’s head and placed it back into my reticule.
“Here is your deal, Arthur. Normally, I take the heart, so I can see when to release the suffering consciousness, when it turned white, I knew to release the soul from its torment. Now, I’m letting you keep your heart, so you may love.”
“Oh! Thank you, Constance,” Avalon cried. “Thank you.”
“I’m not finished. There is a catch. Because I don’t have your heart, I cannot release you from your torment, so there will never be a release. Ever. Unless Avalon or someone on your behalf finds me again and pleads your case. Again. I have no doubt you have a millennia of atonement ahead of you if you falter. Which, I have no doubt you will. You’re lucky, Arthur, to have this woman who believes in you as she does. But, as so many things that seem good at first, it might just be your damnation.”
“What do you mean, Constance? What torment? I thought you were going to spare him.”
“For now, but as I said, if he falters, he’s mine. Forever.”
I whispered the words and cast the spell, weaving a new one, a special one for this special case. Avalon watched, eyes wide. Their respect for my position and power did not go unnoticed, so I showed them another kindness.
“Avalon, your love is as pure as any I’ve seen, so I will do one more thing for you. Here,” I s
aid, removing a white feather from my reticule, “through this, you may contact me. At any time, if you wish to change his fate and give him over to the standard punishment, give me his already dead heart. His torment will end when he pays his debt. Or for any other reason, call me, and I will come.” Turning to Arthur, I was surprised to see a kind of peace in his eyes. A release. Resolve.
“Forsake her, even in thought, and the spell will be broken. You will forever be trapped, impotent, tormented. In her sight—in her love—you shall be spared. As long as you love her and she loves you, you will have a reprieve, but, every day while she sleeps, you will atone. If she dies, you will atone. Unless you are within her conscious presence, you will atone. As far as that’s concerned.” I indicated that which he had used to hurt so many. “It will work for Avalon, only in love. Only through her love. Otherwise, you will be impotent. In fact, for the first year, you will be impotent regardless. You will learn to love without sex.”
“You’re taking away his free will.”
“I’m not, really. I’m giving him a reprieve for your love. I’m counting on your judgment and your love for him to save him, although, in the end, I know it won’t. It never does. He is not true, Avalon, but you believe he can be. For your sake, not his, I hope you are right. For your sake,” I continued, turning back to Arthur, “you will be true or you will be in the most horrific agony imaginable. Only what you have inflicted on so many thousands. No more, no less. Although, in your case, unless your atonement continues unfaltering, it will be unending. Forever and ever. Amen.”
As soon as I released him from his invisible restraints, he ran into the arms of his love, and she welcomed him with a heartfelt embrace and kisses.
“How touching,” I said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ARTHUR
I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but I was in the arms of my Avalon again. All would be all right in the end. The succubus had spared me.
“Thank you,” I said to her, and I meant it. Truly meant it with all that I was.