Blood of the Succubus

by McGeary, Duncan

  But she couldn’t afford to waste energy on a man unlikely to fall completely in love with her. She’d wasted too much on this last boy, trying to get him to come after he’d seen her true shape. Sex at that point was just sex, because he gave it grudgingly, without total acceptance of her desires. If it was forced, she gained almost nothing.

  It irked Eisheth that she had failed even in that. She was glad Agrat Bat and Naamah weren’t here to see her humiliation.

  She needed to find a vulnerable quarry right away. As distasteful as it was, she would have to choose someone from one of the homeless camps, whose life force would be just enough to get her out of town, if she was lucky.

  She’d have to start all over. She looked around for something else to smash, but she’d done a pretty thorough job of it.

  Eisheth went to the cracked mirror, trying out different faces. The good thing about lowering her standards was that she wouldn’t have to try quite so hard to be cute. She needed merely be more attractive than any of the women around her prey.

  The rumpled and slightly soiled clothing she’d worn on the camping trip would do nicely.

  She filled a backpack with necessities, makeup and soap, a toothbrush and a few other things to fluff up her appearance, along with identification (most of it forged) and money. She left the apartment, leaving the door unlocked. She was never coming back. With luck, the landlord would think intruders had done the damage and wouldn’t look for her. Not that he would have had any luck finding her anyway.

  She turned east, hiking toward the homeless camps near Sage and Pines, a failed development that the city was turning a blind eye to. Wherever Eisheth went, she always knew where the homeless camps were. They were always her emergency escape option, her last resort.

  She passed several campsites, then found one with only four men and two women. They were a little younger than average, either just hitting a bad patch or at the beginning of their downward spiral. She approached one of the men as he cooked breakfast, a couple of eggs and some burnt toast in a grimy skillet over a fire.

  His eyes widened at the sight of her, and he grinned. He was missing a front tooth, but looked relatively clean. A younger man sitting next to him looked up at her with his mouth open as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  “I lost my job,” she said, as if she was holding back tears. “I couldn’t make the rent, and the landlord kicked me out. I just…I just need a place to stay for a few days until I get my deposit back.”

  “Shit, woman,” came a rough voice behind her. A middle-aged woman came out of one of the tents. “You ain’t never getting no deposit back.”

  This was a dangerous moment. Eisheth couldn’t seem like a threat to this queen bee; at the same time, she couldn’t be so unattractive to the men in the camp that they would lose interest in her.

  “My landlord told me I would,” Eisheth said, looking at the ground.

  “Yeah, and Barry here farts rainbows.”

  It was a challenge, and Eisheth dropped her gaze and pressed her lips together. She wiggled her chin, hoping to appear on the verge of tears, waiting for one of the men to rescue the vulnerable waif she presented herself as.

  The younger bum jumped to his feet. He was very short, dumpy, and already balding. He put out his hand. “My name’s Adam. This is Barry, and that ol’ witch is Beverly. Pay her no mind. She hates everyone.”

  “Ginger,” Eisheth whispered. She’d chosen stringy red hair this time, and green eyes. She turned a radiant smile on Adam, making sure Beverly didn’t see it. Adam’s eyes widened and he gulped, turning bright red.

  “Come on, you can have my breakfast.” He waved her to the lawn chair he’d recently vacated. “I ate last night.”

  Most men wouldn’t brag about having eaten the day before as if it was some sort of triumph. His offer was both pathetic and honorable.

  Eisheth forced the food down, trying to look grateful. Then she closed her eyes and swayed as if exhausted. Only as she mimicked the reaction did she realize that she was indeed almost dead on her feet. Adam’s arm slid around her tentatively, and she leaned into him.

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m just so tired.”

  “Why don’t you take a nap in my tent?” he said.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him gratefully. His face flushed again. “I mean…I mean…you can sleep there, alone, you know.”

  “Thank you,” she said, glad to climb into the tent and lie down. She didn’t have to fake the exhaustion, just the helplessness. She fell asleep almost instantly, though it was the middle of the afternoon.

  When she awoke, it was almost dark. She sensed someone in the tent with her, and she looked over to find Adam sitting in the corner, trying to look nonthreatening.

  “You’re bleeding,” he said. “Like someone whipped you.” He came forward as though he wanted to touch the wounds on her back.

  “No!” she cried, shrinking away, and he scrambled backward.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and it looked like he was near tears. “I don’t mean no harm.”

  Eisheth’s natural alarm turned out to be the right response, though not for the reasons Adam probably supposed. She wasn’t afraid of him. She hadn’t suffered abuse, as he was no doubt thinking. But acting man-shy wasn’t the worst reaction she could have had.

  “It’s OK, I’d just rather you don’t touch me…there,” she said.

  He raised his hands innocently, looking shocked.

  She gave him a small, tired smile. “How long was I asleep?”

  “A few hours. But you never moved, and I was kinda worried about you.”

  She looked him in the eyes. “You are a nice guy.”

  Eisheth stayed in the tent the rest of the day while Adam came and went, looking for things to make her more comfortable. There was no reason to expose herself to the others anymore. She had her quarry already halfway where she wanted him to be. Out of sight of the others, she saved her energy, letting the illusion fall away when no one could see her.

  Adam found another sleeping bag somewhere, and that night they slept side by side. He never made a move on her.

  Eisheth left the tent briefly the next day. Beverly’s eyes shot daggers at her, and Barry frowned at her, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he approved of her. Probably just jealous, she thought.

  It drizzled in the afternoon, giving her the perfect excuse to duck back into the tent. Adam followed shortly with some paperbacks. She pretended to read one. They were all Westerns, which she never bothered with. Why should she? She’d lived through the Old West and enjoyed many a gunslinger in her time. The books were dog-eared and worn, as if they had been passed from hand to hand or recycled through used bookstores over and over again.

  “I like the old-fashioned Westerns, writers like Louis L’Amour and D.B. Newton,” Adam told her. “Not the new violent ones.”

  “Me too.” Eisheth wracked her brain for something to say. It was a little difficult, because Westerns had fallen out of favor decades ago. “But I think L’Amour keeps writing the same books with the same characters over and over again.”

  “Yeah, but they’re great characters,” Adam said. His face lit up attractively, as if he’d never opened up to a woman about his fanboy interests before. She had that effect on her targets.

  That night, when Adam still didn’t touch her, Eisheth cuddled up next to him. He couldn’t restrain a groan, but when her hand drifted over to his cock, he tensed up and immediately lost his erection.

  She cried out in exasperation, then immediately covered it up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, she realized. He was just scared.

  She knew his type. All she needed to do was make him comfortable. If she could do that, she had him.

  The trick to winning him over wasn’t the actual sex, but the offer of sex, and the comfort and commitment it promised—though sex didn’t hurt. But mostly, she had to be available, all the time, and respond to everything and do everything that would make the
man feel like he could count on her. Most of these men had been through numerous failed relationships, but few had the insight to realize that it was usually their fault, not the woman’s. Most thought if they could only find the right woman, loyal and supportive, why, anything was possible. If she was sexy too, well, that woman he’d give his all to.

  It usually didn’t take long, a few days at most. It looked like it was going to take even less effort this time.

  Eisheth was naked when Adam entered the tent late the next afternoon. She timed it exquisitely, managing to cover herself a moment later.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking away and blushing to the top of his bald head.

  “Hard to knock on the door when it’s canvas,” she said, smiling. “Come here.”

  It looked as if his legs buckled as he sat next to her. She took his chin and turned his face toward her. “I like you, you know.”

  His eyes softened. “I like you too.”

  Eisheth leaned forward and kissed him. His breath was sweet, as if he’d just brushed his teeth in anticipation…of what? A kiss? Or did he want more—was he ready for more?

  His kiss became more impassioned, and his hand went to her breast, rubbing lightly over the nipple. Then he was kissing down her neck, zeroing in. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked so hard it almost hurt, but Eisheth was careful only to murmur her appreciation for his efforts. Then he was pushing her backward, and she couldn’t help but say, “Oh, my!” in a mirthful way, and he laughed in response.

  He may be inexperienced, she thought, but he sure as hell has thought about what he’d do to a girl given the chance.

  She let the sleeping bag fall away and opened herself to him.

  Adam tore off his clothing in a frenzied rush. Eisheth didn’t laugh, though. Nothing could be allowed to break the mood or raise his insecurities. He wasn’t really as fat as she’d thought. He wore dumpy clothing, like hand-me-downs from an older, bigger brother. He was so frantic; she knew he wouldn’t take long. That was OK. In fact, that was good. Once he came the first time, he was hers forever, no matter what else happened.

  He would make all kinds of noises as she drained him, and the neighbors in the surrounding tents were going to think it awfully strange, but no one would interfere.

  He entered her quickly, and then unexpectedly slowed down. He pressed every inch of himself against her, and it felt surprisingly pleasurable, and she realized that she’d hit the jackpot: a boy who thought he was unattractive but who was a real lover, who knew instinctively what to do, who cared about the satisfaction of his partner. He was sucking on her earlobe in a way that gave her shivers, and she moaned out loud, not having to act, and she could tell he knew it and wanted more of it. He continued to touch her in all the right places at the right moments, until it was she who squirmed in pleasure, not him.

  So many pretty boys and macho men she’d drained who couldn’t measure up to this dumpy young man when it came to lovemaking.

  Remember what you’re here for! Eisheth tried to remind herself, but she was enjoying herself too much to use her own abilities to make him orgasm early. It would happen, and it would be glorious. She anticipated a big surge of life force, more than she could have dreamed possible.

  She was vaguely aware that the tent door had opened. A shadow loomed over them.

  “What the in the hell are you doing, Adam?”

  Adam popped out of her before she could clamp her legs around him. He stood up, his cock waving, and now that Eisheth could see it, she saw that it was long and well formed. It was also deflating fast.

  A young woman stood in front of him, furious. She wasn’t even looking at the redheaded Ginger, which was fortunate, because she’d reverted into Eisheth for a moment, enraged at the interruption.

  The intruder slapped Adam, then looked down at Eisheth/Ginger, baring her teeth like a lioness. The woman was short and pleasingly plump, with a spiky haircut that did her no favors. She swung a booted foot into Eisheth’s stomach, knocking the breath out of her.

  Again and again, the boot slammed into her.

  “Slut!” the girl screamed. “Whore!”

  Then Eisheth pushed back, and the girl flopped against the side of the tent, almost collapsing it. It didn’t dissuade her, though. She went on the attack again immediately. Eisheth held her off long enough to finally regain her breath, but she was still weak.

  I’ve used too much of my glamour, she thought. And still nothing to show for it!

  Now she was weak and bleeding and trying hard to keep up some kind of illusion. If she reverted to Succubus form in front of them, she’d have to kill them, and then the others, and then anyone who came running from the other campsites, drawn by all the noise. That would also weaken her.

  “Bobbie Jo, you’re going to kill her!” Adam shouted. “It wasn’t her fault. It was me!”

  “You’re so damn stupid, Adam!” Bobbie Jo screamed, but she quit kicking Eisheth. As Eisheth propped herself up on her elbows, she saw that Adam had gotten ahold of Bobbie Jo and was pushing her out of the tent.

  Bobbie Jo was still screaming outside when Adam tore himself away and came back into the tent. He wrapped his arms around Eisheth. “I’m so sorry, Ginger. It’s my fault. I should have told you. We were never promised to each other, but I knew Bobbie Jo thought we were a couple. I’m an asshole.”

  For some reason, Eisheth wasn’t mad at Adam; she actually liked him. When his hand slipped on the Blood on her back, she didn’t recoil. She put her own hand into the puddle of Blood on the sleeping bag, lifted a finger, and presented it to Adam.

  He looked confused, so she stuck her bloody finger between his lips. She could see the energy coursing though him.

  “Get out of here, Adam,” she said. “And take your girl with you. You don’t want to see what’s coming.”

  He fled the tent, and she heard him shouting for the others to run.

  Then she transformed into Eisheth and tore the tent to shreds. She burst out of its tattered remains, grabbed a flaming branch from the campfire, and tossed it onto the fabric. It was nearly dark, and the fire lit up the campground.

  She burned the other tents, tearing into everything manmade. When her fury was almost expended, she turned to leave. The witch, Beverly, was watching, her eyes wide in terror, standing as if rooted to the ground behind one of the juniper trees surrounding the camp.

  In two bounds, Eisheth was on top of her, throwing her to the ground.

  “You shouldn’t have interfered,” she snarled, not caring about Beverly’s innocence. It didn’t matter—she was human, and at that moment, all members of that species were the enemy.

  She swiped at the woman’s cheek, the sharp claws digging in and ripping a mass of flesh away, revealing rotting teeth beneath. The woman’s scalp was next. Her hair flew into the branches of the juniper tree and hung there. A third swipe severed her carotid artery, and a fourth sent her head sailing off into the trees. She hadn’t even had time to scream.

  A ring of juniper trees obscured the next camp over. Eisheth came out of the shadows to find three men looking her direction in alarm. One man was so stunned by her appearance that he didn’t move; the other two started running. She killed the first with a slash so fast he didn’t see it coming. He looked down at the blood spurting from his body as if it was happening to someone else. Then he toppled, splitting down the middle, and his innards gushed out and over the flickering campfire. The odor of steamed meat rose into the air.

  She was on top the other two before they got much farther than the dirt track that wound between the campsites. She beheaded one, his scream cut off in the middle. She cut the legs out from the other, and his torso rolled off the path. The severed legs kicked once and went still, but the man kept screaming for a little while. In the distance there were shouts, and flashlight beams crisscrossed the sky.

  Eisheth wanted to kill them all, but by now someone had undoubtedly called the cops, and she couldn’t afford to conf
ront them.

  Without bothering to transform, and unsure whether she had the energy anyway, she stalked off into the desert.

  Chapter 17

  Gasper Gerhard’s Journal

  When I first started reading these journals, I wondered why, when our family was still strong and numerous, we didn’t try to track down the Succubae instead of hunkering down to protect the Blood. What good is the Blood if we don’t use it for anything but self-preservation? Are we nothing but cowards?

  If we are cowards, we have our reasons. In those first years after the Succubae escaped, the sisters sought out the remaining Guardians and took savage revenge. Only those men who hid away and performed the Cutting survived.

  How do we defeat the Succubae? Since it is unlikely the Daughters of Lilith will ever again be caught weak and unaware, they will be at the height of their physical and seductive powers.

  Over the years, the Guardians discovered the sisters could be physically hurt, even destroyed, but they always came back.

  No, the only way to defeat them is to face them on their own terms. A man must face them, resist their allure, and with his bare hands, strangle them to death. That cannot be done by any man who has undergone the Cutting.

  It is a paradox. For a man to be strong enough to physically confront a Succubus and not be ripped apart, it is necessary to drink fully of the Blood. But to drink fully of the Blood is to make that man vulnerable to the allure of the Succubus.

  No man has yet succeeded.

  ***

  Czechoslovakia, 1946

  The world Heinrich found outside the caves was greatly changed. The war was over; Germany was in ruins. The Russians and Americans were dividing up Europe into spheres of influence. Since his father had disparaged the Russians during Heinrich’s entire childhood, he made his way west.

  Once away from rural Czechoslovakia, Heinrich found that he had much to learn. His father had kept him ignorant of the outside world, a naïf. He was in Prague for less than a day when someone tried to steal his pack. He managed to wrestle it back. When the attacker returned with some of his friends, Heinrich was ready. He’d drunk of the Blood, and felt strength surging through him. When it wore off, there were four men lying unmoving in the alley. He didn’t check to see if they were dead. He didn’t want to know.