Succubus Tear (Triune promise)

by Andreas Wiesemann

Purity seemed unmoved by Cain’s words, but the waterfalls abruptly stopped. “So you seek this man for what, exactly?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you here to condemn your Al’bah to Taint?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you care for this Succubus, then? Do you seek to get her back?”

  “Yes, no. I…” Cain sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Purity shook his head. “You disgust me, mortal. Can you not even make a choice? Do you not even know what you want? Do you not even know what is right? If you do not, how could you ever know love? How can you ever know God?”

  Cain felt himself fill with shame, disgust, longing, agony—and fill with something at the way Purity spoke to him. The way he said the word “love” had the feel of a completely different word that he ever knew love could mean. It was like—

  “Well, why are you here, Cain?” Purity said, interrupting his thoughts.

  Cain looked wearily into the eyes of Purity; they were an alarming shade of cobalt that always made his throat fill with ice. Cain knew that he could never lie with success before Purity’s powerful stare. And the sad truth was, he either did not love Al’bah, or he did not know what love was to himself. He didn’t even know what humanity thought love was. Let alone grasping the concept of Purity’s statement that love was a decision, a choice.

  “I—she…” Cain lowered his face and wished.

  Wished for what? he asked himself. Why do I feel this way? What is happening to me?

  Why was he going after her like this? Why did he want to see her again? Why did he miss her, feel like he needed her?

  He could see her smile, feel her kiss. He hated the way he felt; it was not fair for him to be wrapped up in things like this. This never happened to him!

  He remembered Al’bah explaining to him what she meant by feeling cold. The way she savagely grappled him and lifted his body off the ground with her wings. Her beautiful eyes, and the way they would glow.

  Cain felt an immense chill run through his body. He crossed his arms in a way that shockingly reminded him of how Al’bah would do so.

  “She is my Bond,” Cain whispered at last.

  Purity’s eyes narrowed; he stepped closer to Cain. His gaze rested upon the way Cain now cradled his hand. “Cain, you are hurt. Let me see your hand,” he said, holding out his own.

  The memory of the pain he had earlier from his touch with Jeannette sparked anew in his mind. “What? No.”

  “Now!”

  Cain slowly raised the hand that started the entire mess he found himself in. Purity took it roughly and examined the innocent flesh. “I suppose the answer ‘She is my Bond’ will have to do.”

  Cain stared at Purity, noticing how he wouldn’t look him in the face anymore. “You know why my hand was hurt just before coming here.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Purity shook his head. “Because you are a lustful sinner.”

  A movement caught Cain’s eye, and his attention was drawn to a flurry of gold that formed Purity’s wings.

  “Flee from this man, Cain. Seek another way.” With a single stroke, Purity took wing and melted away upon the horizon.

  Cain was still looking up at the sky when a flash of light streaked across a storm front, moving impossibly fast. A clap of thunder quickly followed, and the sky poured down rain. Cain stared into the sky for a few moments, hearing a shrieking noise that was deafening.

  ***

  “Monsieur Lamentson!” Jeannette shouted. Cain was back in the office, his hand still on the door knob, and he was looking up at a sprinkler system that had just activated, accented by the strobe flashes and the emergency alarm that went on with its deafening scream. “We must depart quickly!” Jeannette led him through the door and down a stairwell which led to a parking for the employees of the building.

  “Why here? Why not outside on the street?” Cain said with a little curiosity.

  Jeannette patted her face with a cloth hankie. Her French accent was more pronounced. “Oh, Monsieur, we would be in za way of ze firemen, and besides, zis is safer ‘ere zan on za street.” She sighed and put away her hankie. “If you would excuse me, but I would like to sit in my auto ratzer than stand in zis filthy garage.”

  Cain watched her go, and he watched other employees enter through the same stairway he had come through. Cain sighed and caught a faint, familiar scent in the air. He inhaled deeply and knew who it was, who it had to be.

  He discreetly followed the scent and his heart sank as he came to a closed-off section of the garage, obscured by metal shutters.

  Al’bah, he thought. She is somewhere in this garage! If I try to get through this shutter now, I’ll be attracting too much attention. Even if I could get to her, she might be under guard, or, at the very least, leaving with her unseen would be a challenge if not impossible. He saw Walter arrive from the staircase and look about casually. Cain quickly left the lot, calling Walter’s phone number.

  “Hello, Mister Stratton, I was at the office today when the fire alarm went off. Wet as I was from the sprinklers, I decided to reschedule my appointment with you. Please call me back anytime at this number with a good time for you. Thanks.” Cain ended the call and turned his phone off. Still thinking hard, he hailed a cab.

  “Where to, pal?”

  “The intersection of Fifth and Maple.”

  Chapter 27

  Familiar Is Not Always Better

  “Charlie, please! I love you.”

  —Holly Archer

  “Here it is, intersection of Fifth and Maple,” the cabbie said.

  “Good, I need a moment,” Cain said and crossed the road with an eye out for the traffic. Without hesitation, he strode up to the door of the old Stratton law office and grasped the door handle.

  “You return. I take it something significant has happened?”

  “Yes. Law, Al’bah was abducted. I have reason to believe that it was Taint, or someone working for Taint.”

  “No one works for Taint,” Law corrected. “There are only slaves, or prisoners.” He held the scroll that he and Al’bah touched the day they met. “Touch this. The Bond you and your Al’bah share will allow me to determine the circumstances of her abduction.”

  Cain reached out and wrapped his fingers around the scroll that had an unremarkable texture of a heavy paper. After a few moments, Law retracted the scroll and shook his head. “There is nothing I can do for you, mortal.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “The circumstances of your Al’bah’s abduction are through the direct actions of man. I do not know if Taint is behind this.”

  “You mean there is nothing I can do? What about the ‘needs of the flesh’ I am still responsible for?”

  “Since she was taken against your will and hers, those who have your Al’bah are now responsible for her needs. If they neglect her, punishment shall fall on them. If this should take place, I will deliver your Al’bah back to you.”

  Cain stared at Law, fury pressing upon his senses right along with a burning curiosity, all upon a shaky foundation of helplessness that he did not like. “There has to be something I can do, Law.”

  Law resumed writing. “I am the embodiment of the law that concerns the rituals of spiritual Bonding. A mouthpiece, not a mentor.”

  ***

  “That was quick, but I could have told you the place has been deserted for years,” the cabbie said while pulling out into the street.

  “Never mind that, just get me to the Gabel Apartments,” Cain grumbled.

  Cain didn’t even see Charlie until he almost bumped into him as he reached his apartment.

  “Hey.”

  Cain looked up. “Hey, Charlie.”

  “Hey, man, are you okay? They didn’t hurt you this time, eh?”

  Cain shook his head. “Not this time.”

  “You sure you’re okay? I saw your video, and made sure I made the best use of it.” Charlie cocked his head t
oward the door. “By the way, Al’bah hasn’t answered the door. Is she still around? I thought she’d be with you.”

  “No. She—” Cain stopped and shook his head. “I don’t know, she might be in danger herself.”

  Charlie thought for a moment. “Dude, you don’t think she set you up or someth—”

  Cain glared at Charlie and made a cutting gesture with his hand to his neck.

  “Uh, okay. Well, do you want to look for her? Is she in trouble? Maybe I can help.”

  Cain looked up at Charlie. What would he say if he knew, if I told him? “It’s complicated, okay?”

  Charlie gave an exasperated sigh. “Here we go again. Okay, man. Well if you see her again, I made this for her.” Charlie held out a silver hair comb, a beautiful masterwork. “Made it from the silver serving tray I found last month.”

  Cain was amazed. He and Charlie were both good with their hands, a byproduct of being in construction. Cain gravitated more toward working with stone and wood, while Charlie had his own silversmith set.

  He grinned for real this time, but as usual it was tempered by a measure of sadness and guilt. Charlie was his best friend for more than ten years; they had been through almost everything together—and endured everything together.

  But it wasn’t fair for Charlie to be stuck with him. And now…God, he wished Charlie went off with Holly. The life Charlie might have had would be better than anything they ever had together, and brighter than any future with him in it.

  His life revolved around construction sites, cheap apartments, cheap thrills, and a slow migration north as he followed the need for experienced bodies for various projects. It was the same for Charlie, until he met Holly. Holly was something different; she made Charlie happy in a way that Cain himself couldn’t.

  Cain wanted Charlie to leave Holly, but he knew what was better and was about to force the issue. But the decision was taken from them. Holly died, and Charlie and Cain chose each other, as they always had. Her death took more than just her life; it caused a change in Charlie that was nearing completion.

  Two months after Holly’s death, Charlie told Cain that he started to take college courses online. His class load was extreme and unrealistic, but not long after, Charlie received an acceptance letter to Oxford which he accepted, and was on the list to attend next year’s fall semester.

  Cain snapped out of his musings; Charlie had his hand on his shoulder, and was shaking him gently. “Hey, man, you okay? You went to that place again.”

  What is going to happen when he meets Stella? Cain wondered.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Hey look, I’m not completely out of this mess. Some detective is coming over to babysit me.”

  Charlie scoffed. “Damn! Tonight is not going to be easy for you at all, is it?”

  Cain shook his head. “Tonight is not going to be easy for you either, man.”

  “Why?”

  “‘Cause this detective looks. Just. Like. Holly.”

  The humor and animation vanished from Charlie’s face.

  “C’mon, I’ll tell you all about it over a few beers.”

  Chapter 28

  Innocent Guilt

  “Charlie, I haven’t seen you so serious about a girl than you are with Holly. You asked for my advice, and here it is. Leave me; I may have saved your life, but that doesn’t mean you have to throw it away. Save yourself, choose Holly.”

  —Cain Lamentson

  “You sure you can handle this, Fullson?” Shane Harper asked as he watched her check out her firearm. “That boy is all of six foot four, and two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle.”

  Ah geez, why do the men always think I’m some damsel in distress? God I wish I had time to get a different outfit. It looks like I am dressing up for this assignment. “I have taken down people larger than him,” Stella said, holstering her weapon. “Even professionally trained people in my own precinct. Thank you for your concern.” Stella finished with a you-are-not-my-father tone.

  Shane took off his hat and slapped Stella hard across the head with it. “Missy, I don’t know what you’re out to prove. You’re tough, I’ll give you that, but you don’t hold the force’s wrestling, boxing, or kickboxing championship. Not even close, though I must say, it’s not from a lack of trying.”

  He put on the hat and continued to speak as Stella glared at him. “I don’t like you being on this case. You’re screwed up in the head for sure. If I was in charge, I’d already have Cain behind bars and have bygones be bygones.”

  Stella smoothed out her hair and placed her hands on her hips, making sure that her mace was in her pocket. “You got something to say to me, Agent Harper?”

  “Yeah, but not here. Let’s take a walk.”

  Stella quickly realized where they were going; it was the only room that was assured to not be bugged or marked with video surveillance. “The ladies’ room? You got to be kidding me, you wanna talk here? I didn’t think you had it—”

  “Shut up,” Shane said and shoved Stella to the wall.

  Stella lowered herself into a fighting pose, ready for anything.

  “Oh you are cute, so quick to fight, so quick to prove yourself against men.” Shane tightened his rancher’s hat and continued to speak. “First off, I know you have enough on Cain to put him away for a long, long time. I also know you didn’t share that information with your superiors; otherwise, he would already be locked up till Lassie came home if she were left on the moon.”

  He grinned as shock coursed through Stella, and continued. “At first, I thought you and Cain might be in cahoots.”

  “And what about you and Cain being in cahoots? I know all about that incident you had with him!”

  Shane produced a mock applause. “So you saw the file, but you don’t know everything I know, and if you did, you would have egg all on your face. But even that don’t compare to what I found when I looked over the files you researched all day. Kinda a tall order since you used someone else’s data terminal, but—” He pulled out a photo from his pocket; a perfect replica of Stella stared up from it, smiling. “You really wanted to believe that you were adopted, didn’tcha?”

  How? Stella cried in her mind. How did he know what I was looking for?

  He ripped the picture in half and tossed it in the wastebasket. “Boy howdy, all that time you spent obsessing over that poor little miss. You must have wanted to have been adopted pretty badly, especially since I did a little research of my own, and came up with your family history.” Shane Harper crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “So, what is going on?”

  Stella swallowed hard. Shane Harper knew about her past; this was really bad. She had since lost her fighting stance and now couldn’t look Shane in the eye. “I don’t believe Cain is the real—”

  “Oh shut it, missy!” Shane interjected with harsh condescension. “Even I know Cain isn’t the real deal behind this mess. I figured him as some poor kid who’s afraid of Big Brother, that some drug cartel picked him off as a perfect fall-man to alleviate some heat offa themselves. Nice threat you made to Detective Hiller, by the way. You ruined a two-year investigation because of that. Last chance, before I give your bosses the bone they’ve been wanting for the last year and a half. What is going on?”

  Struggling to keep the tears from her pale blue eyes, Stella looked up to those merciless hazel eyes that searched for any sign of weakness or deception. “I just can’t, it’s wrong.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Letting them punish the innocent. I won’t be a part of that—it’s wrong.”

  Shane Harper stared uncomprehendingly at Stella for a few moments. He turned his face to the ceiling and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly, blowing almost comically between his lips. “Missy, you need to grow up,” he said at last, still not looking at her.

  “I have worked against the drug cartels for over fifteen years now. And if there’s anything I learned in all that time, it’s that most of the people who make injustice
possible are the innocent, and the ignorant. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to cut my way through both types in order to get at those who use them like so much cannon fodder.”

  He leveled his face to Stella. “Putting Cain behind bars is likely to do more good than harm, in my opinion. But you go ahead and save your little conscious, missy. The only reason I won’t report this, is ‘cause I think Cain makes a nice, juicy target for the cartel.”

  He shook his head. “And trust me, it won’t be long now,” he said, chuckling in a way that made Stella feel cold. “It’s interesting to see how we are all using Cain in our own little way. You wanna fix your own little past by standing up for the innocent, and I think sacrificing yet another innocent is an acceptable price to bring down the bastards I’m after.” He waved his hand dismissively. “No matter, you keep your pretty little toes offa my boots, and this’ll all be over soon enough, I reckon.”

  He stepped close and locked his hazel eyes to Stella’s pale blue. His eyes that burned with hate, and for a moment she was afraid. What was he going to do? He looked utterly insane. Was he going to speak? Smile? Kiss her? Bite her? Scream? Kill her? He looked like he was capable of anything. The moment passed, and Shane Harper walked on.

  “Good luck, Detective. Sergeant Parker said your relief is at five a.m.,” he said as he exited the ladies’ bathroom.

  Never in her whole life did Stella need to use the bathroom more than when the doors closed. Once upon the toilet, her bowels, bladder, nose, and eyes all spilled their various fluids, spurred by the surge of adrenaline, shock, shame, anger, and horror she had been sent through. It was the second time in her life she wanted to take a life, save a life, and feared for her life all at the same time. The horrible combination brought back a deeply repressed memory, a memory that was buried under so much mental discipline.

  The voice that would always haunt her came back, almost making her scream. It would eventually; it always did. That voice drew Stella back, back to when she was twelve; she could hear it again. The light footfalls as they came up the stairs. The children’s song that would haunt her forever, sung with a maniacal, desperate twist.