Succubus Tear (Triune promise)

by Andreas Wiesemann

  The conversation died for several moments as Cain stared at the floor. Oh, how Al’bah longed to peer into his heart, to know what he was thinking. His heart began to race in frustration, though thankfully it seemed self-directed. She did not want her Bond to be distressed during this tender moment, and she held out another morsel for him.

  “Sorry. This is just so new to me,” he said, accepting the morsel.

  Al’bah shook her head. “Cain, you never need ask me for forgiveness. I would answer anything you ask me. Some things are hard for me to speak of. Many things I am unable to speak of.”

  “Then why are you so bent on me keeping my word?”

  Al’bah moved to settle into his lap and placed both hands over his heart, hoping her words might be received by more than just his understanding. “A being’s nature is changed by choice, not circumstance, Cain. And so, when the solemn oath of a being is broken, so are they.”

  Cain nodded and leaned backward, bringing Al’bah on top of him. “My back is killing me.” He sighed as he rested upon the floor. His hands traveled under her shirt and caressed her back. “Ugh, I don’t know about sitting without chairs, but this was unexpectedly special.”

  Al’bah was about to say something but stopped. Cain kept staring at her; his eyes danced across her face. His mouth parted slightly, and a whisper of a smile played upon his lips but burned brightly in his eyes. He drew his hands from her back and caressed her face and hair.

  “Thank you for dinner, Al’bah. It was delicious.”

  Al’bah smiled and sighed deeply, vocalizing her happiness. She could see the beginnings of violet illumination cast upon his face, and she knew her eyes were glowing as they would when her emotions became intense. Cain reached up and brought Al’bah’s lips to his and kissed her deeply. Her desire manifested as a deep, throaty purr as her tongue met his.

  Then suddenly without warning, Al’bah’s mouth was filled by Cain’s soul! No! Not now! I am not ready! It is too soon! She panicked, filled with horror and elation at the same time. She desperately tried to push his soul back, while all the while her spiritual energies hungrily fed upon his essence, refusing to be satisfied by nothing less than consuming him completely.

  With every fiber of control she could summon, Al’bah at last forced Cain’s soul back into himself and shrank back, panting. She felt a strange power like never before flow though her essence; the darker parts of her nature hungered for more and tried to take over.

  “Al’bah, are you okay?” Cain said, placing his hand upon her cheek.

  Al’bah was about to warn him of the danger they both were in, when she stopped. She could sense that Cain’s soul was just as strong as it was before. His physical essence was slightly weaker, but for some reason she just knew her Bond would come to no lasting harm from her power. True, other Succubi consumed the souls of other creatures, leaving them for dead—or worse. But none were ever Bonded.

  “I—I was just a little overwhelmed. This is new to me as well, after all.” She looked up to him; her heart was torn between wanting to tell him, risking distress, or being less than honest with her Bond.

  Cain placed his hand to cup her chin and brought her face to his. He started to kiss her lips with soft then firm advances. He removed her clothing and caressed her skin with pleasing abandon. Her body trembled at the way he kept trying to get her to respond, how his tongue played upon her lips to have them part. Some unconscious part of him wanted her to taste his essence; he wanted—

  She could not stand it anymore. Al’bah opened her mouth again and was rewarded with a full measure of Cain’s soul, entering her as urgently and as euphorically as his flesh. Her mind seemed to be filled with a strange ringing noise that went on and on, punctuated with sharp pops which carried their own vibrations.

  She opened her eyes; her vision was filled with flame. The entire world appeared to burn. The sound of burning ebbed and flowed with her breath, and with Cain’s. She grabbed ahold of him tighter, still drawing from his soul by the contact their bodies shared. It was amazing; the faster she drained him, the faster he recovered. It was like an endless loop between them both, and at last Al’bah knew why: it was their Bond.

  She felt the climax draw near, spurred by the power that flowed over both their souls like fire. In the madness of pleasure and burning, Al’bah caught Cain’s eyes. “Yes! Let go, give it to me!” she cried through clenched teeth, and wrapped her legs and wings tightly around him.

  With a deafening roar the fire intensified and ceased, replaced by faint gasping.

  Chapter 15

  Did I Miss Something?

  “How old I am? I am six thousand of your years old, in my current era.”

  —Al’bah

  Charlie took a long pull from the pint he ordered. “Aaah, you don’t know how hard it is to get a pint of decent mead.”

  The bartender gave him a grin which didn’t reach his eyes. He then turned to the attractive women at the other side and continued his hopeless flirting that might have worked ten years and fifty pounds ago.

  Charlie looked over the women at the end. They were cute, but not too cute. Ah well, he would find a steady girl sooner or later around here. He drank from the pint again and dialed Cain’s number to see if he wanted to drop by. Nothing. The call went to voicemail. Odd.

  Maybe I should go see him? Nah, the sourpuss would just mope about, if he isn’t passed out already.

  Charlie started to chuckle at the thought of Cain trying to open a bottle of spirits, but the good humor died in a wash of concern. He knew Cain lied to him about the severity of his injury. And considering Cain hadn’t called all day, and the odd circumstance of reaching his voicemail—

  Ah shit! That damn fool better not have killed himself last night! Charlie started to get off the barstool when his obnoxious ringtone (a surefire conversation starter) sounded. He looked hopefully at the caller ID. Damn it, it was his boss.

  “Erectile dysfunction clinic,” Charlie said with a chipper voice.

  “What?”

  “You know, if your meat is beat, pop a blue treat!”

  “Right, is this Charlie?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?” Charlie chortled.

  “Look, the Stratton Law Firm is going to be at the site tomorrow. I need you and your buddy to be there an hour early. Don’t worry—you get to leave an hour early.”

  “You got it,” Charlie said while eyeing one of the girls who had laughed at his earlier joke and was now eyeing him.

  “One last thing: I can’t get ahold of Cain. This is too important to just hope he will get the voicemail. Go over to him, make sure he knows what the score is.”

  Charlie felt another wash of concern. Cain wasn’t one who just let his calls go to voicemail. “What score? Cain finished the cement ahead of schedule and under budget.”

  “And Walter Stratton himself took notice. He wants Cain to be there as well. By the way, Mister Stratton wants you to be at Mercy Hospital two days from now I have no idea why. It’s just a floor renovation, so be prepared to move a lot of building debris down a chute. Be there at five.”

  “Gotcha.” Charlie put his phone away and turned to get off his barstool.

  “Well howdy there, Mister Tsukada. Small world, isn’t it?”

  Charlie stared; it was Shane Harper, the middle-aged FBI agent he and Cain had a disastrous run-in with a couple of years back, cowboy hat and all. Aside from the Marlboro Man or John Wayne, Charlie never came across a more fitting person to hold the title of cowboy-Texas Ranger. He stood slightly above six feet and had strange hazel eyes. His sandy brown hair showed slightly under his old hat, and a few old scars crisscrossed his rough, tanned skin.

  “Ah-Hoyo, Harper-san. * It is a small world so long as our encounter is by chance.” He thumbed his empty pint, wondering if he should get another one.

  Shane Harper tightened his old cowboy hat and shrugged. “Mister Tsukada, I am in town on official business. Honestly, I had no idea you were here
. How’s your friend, Mister Lamentson?”

  “Cain is, uh—” Shit, why couldn’t the bastard just answer his phone? “Well, I don’t know, actually.”

  Shane shrugged, as if the matter was of little concern, even though Charlie knew better. “Well shoot, you’ve known the boy for about, what, eleven years now? I woulda figured you two would be inseparable.” He craned his head to glance at the young women at the end of the bar. “Ah, never mind. I suppose Mister Sourpuss didn’t get an invite for today’s huntin’ trip.”

  With a loud pop, the pint Charlie had been holding onto cracked but thankfully didn’t break. Neither he nor Shane deigned to look at the ruined barware, but Shane grinned slightly.

  “And here I reckoned it was your friend who had the attitude problem.”

  “I think you’ve had enough,” the bartender said, taking the pint away. “I don’t know what’s going on here, and I don’t care, but you need to leave.”

  “Bah, let the pup stay,” Shane said, now looking at the bartender. “I was just about to leave anyway. Here.” He handed the man a folded bill. “Charlie, I said it then, and I say it again. I don’t think you and your friend are dirty. But I have little respect for those who taunt me, or the law.”

  Charlie gritted his teeth. “He spent two weeks in the hospital, ass clown!”

  Shane nodded. “I know. Had I stayed around to see that fiasco, I would have stopped it. If it will make you and Lamentson feel better—which it won’t—the three officers in question were sentenced to eighteen months, and stripped of their badges. Nice camera phone work, by the way. Never knew a guy that could operate and send video by just using their feet while handcuffed.”

  “Say what? I thought they got away with that!”

  Shane shrugged. “Oh, I forgot to mention that I testified against the officers who beat your friend. I am an agent of law, not bullying. And I will not abide anyone being torn apart without a fightin’ chance. Being handcuffed and beaten half to death will never—well, you were there.”

  Charlie lowered his eyes and nodded. He wiped his hands on a cloth napkin and sighed deeply.

  “Hey! Is one of you going to leave, or what?” asked the bartender.

  “Keep yer britches on, I’ma gettin’ there,” Shane said. He got up and stretched a little, tipping his cowboy hat. “Until next time.”

  Charlie spoke again quickly, “What sort of business brings you here then?”

  Shane stopped and turned around with a strange grin. It was the grin of a man who had nothing left to lose. He walked behind the bar and reached up to the hanging TV and flipped through the channels, oblivious to the bartender’s protest.

  “Keep the channel there for a minute, son,” Shane said to the bartender and left.

  “And in other news, a major drug bust occurred earlier this week. The port city of Shinehaven was apparently home to a major hub of cartel operations. Details are currently scarce, as the FBI is still currently investigating sensitive material. However, this news channel was able to get some inside information. We go live to Barbra, who is reporting from Shinehaven General Hospital. Barb?”

  Charlie ordered another round and noticed how most of the patrons were captivated by the newsreel.

  “Thank you, Julie. Well, the staff of Shinehaven General is not allowed to speak of confidential patient information, but recently a team of forensic professionals has just arrived and apparently has shut down the morgue, leaving hospital administration to work with other facilities until further notice.”

  “Barb, how many cadavers can Shinehaven General process at any given time?”

  “Well, that’s the question everyone is asking. My sources, who wish to remain unnamed, state mortuary services can process and store up to twenty cadavers.”

  “And what about the forensic professionals? Has there been any contact with them?”

  “No. In fact, we have been warned by the FBI that any contact will be seen as an act of deliberate sabotage of an ongoing investigation.”

  “Thank you, Barb, and we’ll keep you up to date as this news story unfolds. Now to Jim in sports.”

  Charlie finished his pint and thought very seriously on having him and Cain leave town as soon as possible. It was likely that Shane was part of that. Hell, what was he thinking? Shane Harper being in the middle of a bloodbath that left the body count within shouting distance of triple digits sounded just like his style. Wherever the man went, death followed in his wake; one had to wonder how the man wound up in the FBI in the first place.

  He jumped off the barstool, left a fifty on the counter, and decided to get to Cain’s apartment double-quick.

  “Your fly is open,” a girl said as Charlie left the bar.

  “Really?” Charlie said, keeping eye contact as he zipped his fly. “Nice to know you were checking me out.”

  The group of girls laughed at that, while the other turned pink.

  “Hey, why don’t you stay? Buy a girl a drink?” she said.

  Charlie thought a moment. “Ladies, I’ve got a better idea.”

  ***

  “Thanks for the ride, Misty,” Charlie said as he got out of the car and winked.

  “Hey, you’re gonna call me, right?” Misty said.

  “Hey now, we had a deal,” Charlie said as he knelt at the driver’s side window. “I bought a round, you gave me a ride.” He looked at the way Misty was grinning and whispering to her friends. “But hey, this won’t take long. Wait for me?” He got up and trotted to the stairs without waiting for an answer.

  Charlie felt a sudden and deep relief as he approached the door and gave it his usual knock. He could smell something delicious coming from Cain’s apartment and heard him saying something. Whew! Now all I need to know is what that delicious smell is, and who he’s talking to. Damn, did he get a girl already? I know Cain can’t cook this well.

  Cain opened the door. “Hey, buddy! Come in.”

  Charlie cocked his head to the side. What the hell? Since when is the guy in a good mood when he isn’t drunk? “You okay, man? You haven’t been answering your calls. How’s your hand—the hell?

  Cain looked too. His right hand didn’t even have a scar.

  “What the hell is this?” Charlie stepped inside his apartment and lifted Cain’s hand in amazement. “Yesterday your hand was sliced open to the bone! Now you’re—”

  “Cain?” a woman said, returning from the bathroom.

  Why, yes, he did get a girl, Charlie thought to himself as he took in the young lady before him. She was absolutely gorgeous. The way she carried herself reminded him of his sister, Jun. Her stance and walk were full of a fluid grace that made one want to touch and be touched. He was reminded of the many times she would care for him after the beatings he received at the hands of his father.

  “Al’bah, this is Charlie. He is my best friend for over ten years. Charlie, this is Al’bah, my, um…my Bond.”

  Charlie frowned as his glance darted from Al’bah to Cain. Bond?

  Al’bah had a look of jealous spite that would have spoiled the features of anyone else. Her face reminded Charlie of a snippet of a song. How did it go? Something about being so cute when you’re mad? Charlie watched Al’bah walk up to him. Her eyes were a strange blue-violet.

  “Charlie,” Al’bah spoke slowly. Her voice seemed to touch the myriad of ways to pronounce each letter, emphasizing all and none. “I do not like you,” she said flatly, her voice now less impressive.

  Now this is new. Since when did Cain ever get mixed up with a jealous chick? “You don’t even know me. Why on Earth would you not like me?” Charlie said warmly, trying his best to keep his temper in check.

  “You have the seeds of suffering within you. You bring the remembrance of suffering with you. You interrupt this season of bliss.”

  And crazy to boot, Charlie thought irritably as he glanced at Cain, who grimaced slightly. “Hey, buddy, can I talk to you for a moment?” Charlie said, now eyeing Al’bah, who had not broke
n her eye contact.

  “Um.” Cain looked to Al’bah.

  “Cain, your friend has come to see you.” Al’bah broke her eye contact with Charlie. “I will never have it be said that I came between you and him.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Charlie said after they had closed the door to the apartment and sat on the top of the stairs. “Your hand, your mood—hell, you asking your girlfriend for permission to speak with me?” Charlie almost laughed to see the look of amazement in his friend, and how quickly it turned into a dumb, soft shame. He knew that look. “Yes, you have lost your mind!” he guessed, and guessed correctly it seemed, judging by the way Cain’s expression changed.

  “I want to say you’re pussy whipped, but it doesn’t fit.” Charlie lifted up Cain’s hand again. “This shit is creepy, man. You need to tell me what happened.”

  “It’s complicated,” Cain said at last.

  What the hell? “It’s complicated”? Is that all my best friend can come up with?

  “Look, man, she’s my Bond, okay?” Cain said, as his expression of discomfort and shame deepened.

  Charlie held back a scathing comment and decided to figure something out that didn’t add up. “What the hell does that mean? ‘She’s my Bond’ kinda sounds like you married the girl or something.” Cain looked like one of those cheap wooden nutcrackers, for all the opening and closing his mouth did. “Geez, you won’t even tell your best friend? Okay, what about your hand then? I know there’s gotta be a good explanation there.”

  “I want to tell you. I want to tell you everything, believe me! But I can’t.”

  Now Charlie started to become worried. Is he in trouble? Did he get mixed up in something bad?

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “I swear, Charlie, I can’t force myself to speak.”

  “Does Al’bah have something to do with your hand?” Charlie said, looking at it again, giving him a subtle “tell” to ask if he was in trouble.

  “Yeah,” Cain said, looking at his hand too, responding with his own “tell” to let him know he was okay.