by A. H. Lee
Azrael looked surprised. “Oh, I never said they couldn’t be changed. Demons who spend enough time on the mortal plane often develop mortal traits. Sometimes they even—” Azrael stopped himself and shook his head as though he thought he’d said too much.
Suddenly, Jessica had so many questions. “Forgive me if this is impertinent, my lord, but why did you summon an incubus in the first place?”
Azrael gave a tight little smile. “Oh, I didn’t know what kind of demon I was getting. I was running for my life. I had a list of names and just enough skill to be dangerous. I summoned one. It was a reckless thing to do, but I got away with it.”
Jessica was impressed. “Where were you living, my lord?” It occurred to her that nobody talked about a time before the Shrouded Isle. And yet that time had existed not so long ago.
Azrael waved his hand. “A border town in the south—constantly fought over and eventually destroyed. I set out to end those wars, and I did. I had no idea I was going to be basing my empire on sex magic, though. At first, I was not pleased with what I’d summoned. But after a while, I began to see the advantages. If you’re going to use vice to keep peace, you could do a lot worse than Lust. What if I’d summoned Wrath or Pride or Envy? What kinds of situations would I have to provoke to feed that creature? No, I was fortunate with Mal. He really is sweet-tempered…for a demon.”
Jessica smiled. “Indeed, my lord.”
“So,” continued Azrael, “I am not opposed to your spending time with him…although his spending this much time with a single person is unprecedented. I assume that he is not excessively feeding on you, which is why you are not exhausted. This also leads me to believe that he is fond of you. However…please do not take offense, but I do want to supervise these meetings closely until I am sure that he will not misbehave. I’m not trying to spy on you, and I don’t need to actually be in the room, but I want you in heavily-warded spaces until I am sure that this is not simply a ploy to get me to let down my guard.”
Jessica nodded, lost in thought. “Yes, my lord.”
“At the moment, I am dealing with a necromancer who seems determined to aggravate war between Aspiria and Solaria.”
Jessica looked up in surprise. “Aspiria shares a border with the Provinces.”
Azrael inclined his head. “It does. Right now, the problem is only in the mountains, but if a corpse army comes marching out of those hills, your home could be in danger, too.”
“Gods,” whispered Jessica. Nothing ever happens in the Provinces…I hope.
“This is requiring my full attention,” continued Azrael, “so I can’t give this situation with you and Mal the consideration it deserves. I am going to keep the two of you apart for a few weeks.”
“I understand, my lord.”
Azrael looked relieved. “I know I’ve given you a great deal of information. Think about it. If you have questions later, I’ll be happy to answer them. In the meantime, I’ve got to get back to my tower and that damned necromancer.” He gave a formal bow.
Jessica felt touched. This Azrael seemed like an entirely different person from the man who’d sat beside her at her first dinner in the palace and run his fingers up her thigh. He seemed quite different, too, from the cold, detached ruler who’d questioned her after her disastrous encounter with Prince Dustin. This, she realized, was Azrael with his guard down, off-duty…or as off-duty as he ever got. This was his personal face. I wonder how many people ever see it?
She repressed the desire to give him a hug. And perhaps more than a hug. Stop that. You’re thinking like a succubus.
Jessica returned his bow and said, “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Lord Azrael. I will consider everything you’ve said.”
Chapter 21. A Date in a Pocket World
Over the next few days, Mal hoped that Azrael would take him into the tower as he’d suggested earlier. However, Azrael did not do this. Instead, he made endless tracking charms and spell traps with Mal’s assistance. He checked and re-checked the wards around his own estate. As far as Mal could tell, there’d been no disturbance. However, Mal was not a sorcerer, and there were limits to his understanding of magical application.
Mal had learned long ago not to ask about the details of his master’s business. That would only earn him suspicion and sharp answers. So he did as he was told without trying to puzzle out what it meant. He thought about Jessica a great deal, but he said nothing, and he was shocked when Azrael muttered one day over his books, “I’ll let you see her, just not right now. When I’ve got this problem solved, I will.”
Mal raised his head. “Excuse me?”
Azrael glanced over the top of his book. “Have you fed at all since the orgy? You can’t have been that full. I’ve been using your magic every day.”
“Oh.” Mal thought about it. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“There’s a trade commission from Istor meeting with Aspirian merchants in the garden this evening. With courtiers present, of course. I’m sure you can stir up something there.”
Mal did “stir up something there.” The trade commission and the merchants ended their meeting early, extremely satisfied with the bargain they’d brokered, and suddenly overcome with the desire to play a saucy game involving blindfolds and quite a bit of groping. One woman from the trade commission found herself irresistibly drawn to a beautiful girl from the Desert States, and they slipped away to finger fuck each other into shuddering ecstasy within one of the vine-draped gazebos. Several other couples splintered off from the group as evening fell, settling into the many convenient nooks provided by Azrael’s garden.
Mal lay on the patio, soaking it all in. He could not feed as quickly when he didn't participate in sex. However, the people around him were emitting plenty of sexual energy on which he could draw if he took his time. He played the crowd like an instrument. Any trace of lust gave him a channel through which he could work on a person, gently encouraging desires they would not normally act upon, lowering their inhibitions, erasing any sense of guilt or shame. Ordinarily, he found this sort of thing vastly entertaining, especially when he managed to get reserved or dignified people to misbehave.
However, this evening, Mal found it strangely unsatisfying. Am I feeling this way because I had sex with a succubus? Is this how mortals feel when they go from me to an ordinary partner? Or is it something else?
He was still pondering these things the following afternoon as he lay at the foot of Azrael’s tower. The illusory river gushed from the tower’s arched entrance. Mal could hear it if he listened just right. He could see the forest, too, if he looked into the reflected depths. Mal was careful not to listen and not to look. The river could be dangerous this close to its source, even for him.
“Mal?”
His eyes shot up in time to see Jessica stepping out of the bookcases, dressed in a riding suit, of all things, and carrying a little cloth bag. The tall boots made her long legs look even longer, and the tight breeches hugged her slender waist and round ass to perfection.
“I only walked on the edge of the stream,” she was saying. “I didn’t walk in it, except once when a creature from the books frightened me. They don’t seem to follow me into the water.”
“I’m sure they don’t,” said Mal, “but the river is more dangerous the closer you get to the tower. You really shouldn’t have come.” His tone didn’t sound convincing, even to his own ears. Mal was already walking towards her, and when her hand touched his head, he changed. Mal swept her up into his arms and planted a kiss on her mouth. “I missed you.”
Jessica laughed and hugged him. “Me, too.” He sensed a reservation in her, however. She did not melt into his embrace as she had in the past, but extricated herself and took a step away from him. Instantly, Mal slid back into the panther.
Jessica frowned. “You can’t hold your human shape unless we’re touching, can you?”
Mal hesitated, his instinct for secrecy at war with his desire to speak freely with her.
Jessica chewed on one rosy lip. “That first night at dinner…you didn’t have permission to be a man, did you? That’s why Azrael was angry and confused.”
Mal swallowed, suddenly feeling trapped. As his agitation increased, the instincts of the animal form got the better of him. He flattened his ears, licked his lips, hunched down a little.
His eyes flicked up to see Jessica crouching in front of him. “Mal, please,” she said softly, “I just want to understand. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. Please just tell me.”
“I—” He felt as though he were plunging into an abyss, but he continued, “when you’re touching me, I have access to my own magic…in a way that I usually don’t because of the collar. You…feed it back to me in a loop. So…yes.”
She looked at him searchingly. “And you were planning to use that somehow?”
Mal shuffled his paws. “Maybe?”
Jessica watched him and said nothing. For the first time since they’d met, Mal couldn’t read her expression. The emotion coming off her was not desire, and he wasn’t good at interpreting other emotions. Still seeking to appease, Mal stretched out on his belly and laid his chin against the ground. He rolled over onto his back and stretched out his enormous head.
Jessica finally laughed. “Oh, Mal. He’s right. You are sweet-tempered…for a demon.”
Mal did not dare ask what she was talking about, but when she gently stroked the fur of his throat, he did not use the contact to immediately transform into a man. He lay there and let her pet his head and belly.
Jessica sat down on the library floor beside him. “Can I trust you?” She seemed to be speaking almost to herself. “I want to trust you.”
Mal raised his head enough to nuzzle it into her lap. She smelled like spring—like something warm and growing. “I will try to be trustworthy.” He was shocked at his own words, but anything was better than having her look at him like that—like a person outside her confidence.
She was rubbing his ears. “Why does Azrael keep you in this form?”
Mal huffed. “Probably because panthers don’t have thumbs. Harder to do things I’m not supposed to do without thumbs.” He raised his head, saw her smile, and felt bold enough to add, “Panthers do, however, have really excellent tongues.”
Jessica laughed out loud. “Gods, I know. Stop that.”
Mal took his nose out from between her legs. “You’re upset with me?”
Jessica stroked his head and shoulders. “Not exactly. But I had a visit from Lord Azrael. He told me some things.”
Mal went instantly rigid. “What did he say? You didn’t…didn’t tell him about—?”
“I didn’t tell him about me, no. He didn’t ask. Mostly we talked about you.”
Mal gave a heavy sigh. “Yes, yes, I’m a dangerous demon who can’t be trusted.”
“No,” said Jessica patiently, “that was not what he said. He actually plans to let us spend some time together after he finishes dealing with this necromancer, but I wanted to talk to you before that…when I know we won’t be overheard.”
Mal brightened. “That’s right! He thinks I am falling in love with a human!”
Jessica’s hands on his head stopped moving. After a moment, she said, in a small voice, “Are you?”
“Of course not.”
There was a long pause. Her hands did not resume their stroking. Mal looked up. Jessica was staring straight ahead with a carefully blank expression, as though she were containing some strong emotion with effort. Mal realized his error and added, “You’re not human.”
Jessica looked down at him. She spoke with a catch in her voice. “I am, though, Mal! I assure you I feel quite human!”
“You won’t when—”
Jessica got to her feet, pushing him out of her lap. “Don’t say that!”
Mal didn’t know what to do, so he hunkered down again.
Jessica sighed. “I wanted to go on a…a date. The kind where we talk about normal things. There’s a gentleman back there who keeps asking to show me his island. Is it some place we can actually go?”
Mal laughed. “Captain Indigo. Yes, it’s a rather standard pirate story.”
Jessica cocked her head. “Explain.”
“Storybooks housed near grimoires sometimes develop pocket worlds. If you take the books far enough away from the grimoires, the pocket worlds disappear. That’s why you can handle the books out in the reading room, but if you come further into the library, they’re dangerous. The people in those pocket worlds can’t change or learn new things outside the parameters of their stories. They’re basically automata. You can fuck them, but you can’t feed on them, so they’re not terribly useful.”
Jessica was looking at him with an expression he didn’t like, so Mal hurried on. “Anyway, short answer: yes, anyone can go there. It’s getting back out that’s the problem. Humans can get trapped in pocket worlds and even absorbed. You might be able to get back out, though, because you’re um…”
“Not human,” muttered Jessica, “or so you keep saying. Anything else?”
“Well I can definitely get us back out, so it’s not a problem.”
“Good. Will anything bad happen if you’re gone for an hour or two?”
“Never has before. Azrael will be in his tower until sunset.” Mal hesitated. “You might need to keep hold of me, though. I don’t know if my binding will let me visit a pocket world…although Azrael hasn’t renewed that command in a while, so maybe.”
Jessica reached into her cloth bag. “I brought you some clothes.”
Mal grinned. “No need. Touch me.”
Jessica reached out and put her hand on his head. Mal changed a little more slowly this time, concentrating. He solidified with plain trousers and a ruffled shirt of which he was fairly proud. His collar lay against his chest in silver links—deceptively long and loose. No shoes. But this will do for a pirate world.
Jessica held his hand and stared. “Are they real?” she reached out to touch his clothes.
“Not exactly,” said Mal. “If you took them very far away from me, they’d turn into fur…or possibly teeth and toenails.”
Jessica snatched her hand away. “Ew.”
“It’s just me—conjured from my essence. Same way faery gold turns to mist in the morning.”
Jessica gave him a crooked smile. Her small hand closed tightly in his. “Alright, then. Let’s go find a pocket world.”
Chapter 22. Bound
Jessica felt that she needed to keep her head in this situation. There were things she wanted to say to Mal. However... We’re going to visit a pocket world! A pocket world inside a book! She had to force herself not to bounce.
Captain Indigo mirrored her delight. His muscular, cutlass-scarred chest swelled beneath his open shirt, and his blue eyes glittered. “A buxom wench, and a strapping new recruit, eh? We are going to have such times, my friends! We’ll give the governor such a drubbing he’ll never show his face outside his own port again! And we’ll finally capture that traitor Dillon! I’m certain I know where he hid the treasure map!”
“Thank you,” said Mal blandly, “we’ll show ourselves in.” He walked past Captain Indigo and reached out for what Jessica presumed was the captain’s book—a red volume with a ship on the spine and gold embossed lettering: “Fool’s Gold.” Mal glanced at Jessica and winked. “It’s appropriately titled.”
Still holding Jessica’s hand with his free one, Mal touched the book. Jessica would have had difficulty describing what happened next. It was as though they were suddenly standing on a two-dimensional surface—a flat page. Jessica looked to the side, out of the page, in a direction she had never looked before, and saw a lagoon of turquoise blue water on a cloudless day, with the waves sighing over the sand.
She heard Mal as though at a distance, “Is this good enough?”
“Yes,” breathed Jessica, afraid to look away. “This is perfect.”
Then they stepped out of the world, int
o the book. Jessica had a sense of moving in a direction that she had never known existed. She gasped as her feet hit the sand and leaned against Mal. “Azrael said….said you’re five-dimensional. Was that…? Did we just…?” She realized she was babbling and shut her mouth.
Mal shrugged. “I suppose. You do have to step dimensionally to get into a pocket world.”
They lapsed into silence as they walked along the shore of the lagoon. Jessica was certain that no beach in the real world had ever been so clean, without even seaweed or driftwood to mar the perfect whiteness of the sand. Rocky cliffs rose all around them. Jessica could hear larger breakers in the distance, but here in this sheltered cove, the sea moved gently, broken only by beautifully water-sculpted stone outcroppings.
Jessica gasped as a person stretched languidly out of the water near one of these formations. The stranger paused to watch them for a moment before dipping back under. A moment later, her tail broke the surface—a long, iridescent arc of blue-green. “Mermaids?” breathed Jessica.
“Looks like it,” said Mal. “I bet if we sit still, they’ll come out and play.”
Jessica sat down in the soft sand. Her high boots were not comfortable for sitting on the ground, and she struggled to take them off with one hand. Mal tried to help, also with one hand. They were laughing before they finished. “Why did you wear this anyway?” he asked.
“I didn’t know where we’d be going. It’s the most athletic outfit in my closet.”
They sat in silence for a while, watching the mermaids as they grew bolder and broke the surface with increasing frequency. Their long bodies made beautiful arcs of red, blue, and yellow. Occasionally, they sang out to one another, although Jessica could not understand their language.
“I don’t think Azrael is your enemy,” she said at last. “I think he considers you a friend.”
Mal gave an irritated huff that sounded remarkably like a panther. “I bet he told you that I’m charming and deceitful. You know who else is charming and deceitful?”