The Succubae Seduction Ch. 23

So, call me dense, but it's only now that I realize the true import of everything that'd been said. Shemhazau is my father. He had escaped from Commander Douglas, and the assassin must have claimed he'd killed both my parents when he reported back. My old man is going to have a lot of explaining to do when I return.

"You killed his wife," I continue talking, hoping to set the man off again and give Brooke another opening. "You tried to kill his child, me. Do you want me to feel guilty that you failed? Ha!" I laugh loudly, using the pain in my right wrist to fuel my voice. The man doesn't even blink as I speak, and I realize I'm going to have to go with low blows to set him off again. "I hope your family screamed out your name when my father killed them. Does it haunt you at night, knowing that the last person to see them alive was the man you most despise?"

"Shut your fucking mouth," he snarls again, and then has to concentrate on staying alive as Brooke presses the attack, bringing her blade in hard and fast. It's barely deflected in time, but I still see a line of red open up on the man's side.

"Maybe your wife offered to suck his cock to save your babies," I continue, hating myself for speaking these words. I take no joy in what I'm saying, but I'll do whatever it takes to help Brooke out. "Do you often wonder if he killed them quickly, or took his time? Or did he just kill them as you killed my mother, while she was screaming to save her child?"

Douglas's temper finally seems to be completely under his control again, as he only glares at Brooke. I open my mouth to continue, wracking my brain to come up with something even more vulgar to say, but Brooke interrupts me.

"Lyden, shut up." Her words delivered without emotion make me obey more than anything else.

"At least you still have some honor," Douglas states, and I can tell he's actually breathing heavier. Brooke by comparison is the essence of calm.

"I'm sorry you thought I was dead all these years," she says to her opponent, her sword clanging as she knocks aside a thrust from him. "That was never my intent. I was a failure as an assassin, unable to complete my mission. I ran away, unable to bear the congratulations of my achievement, when I knew it was false." As she talks in her flat tone, Brooke slowly begins to draw her blade back, switching hands and lifting it over her head, still pointing at her opponent. "I am truly sorry for your family. Melissa was always kind to me, and I always thought your daughters were cute."

"Don't speak her name, Traitor!" Douglas dashes forward and I watch in horror as my dearest friend and protector grabs his naked blade with her newly healed right hand and moves it only slightly, letting it sink into her gut, then holding it there with an iron grip. The tip of his blue steel pokes out her back, but Brooke doesn't scream out in pain or even acknowledge the mortal wound. Quicker than my horrified eyes can follow, her left arm drops down and a second later the older man's head is rolling across the ground.

My utter shock lasts only a second before I rush to her in time to catch my wounded lover with my wounded arm before she hits the ground. I grasp the other blade, but her grip on my arm is firm, stopping me. "Don't pull it out. You'll only make the wound worse." She gasps, showing the pain she's in for the first time. She looks at her right hand, and laughs for a moment, until the pain stops her. I follow her gaze, and see that her hand is unharmed. "He said that it would remain whole as long as . . . I was protecting you." Her eyes meet mine, and she gives me a slight smile. "A hundred and forty-two." I look at her confused, no idea what she's talking about. "That's how . . . old I am." Talking is obviously getting harder for her, and tears sting my eyes as I realize I'm about to lose her.

"Hold on," I tell her. "I'm going to save you." Frantically I start racking my brain, trying to come up with some way to reverse the damage to her stomach. There isn't enough time to sleep and enter her mind. "Shemhazau!" I scream, hoping to get his attention. Maybe he can heal her. "Father, I need you! I can't lose her. Please, I'll do anything, just don't let her die!"

Silence answers my call.

Brooke's hand brushes my cheek, and I look back down at her. Her form is blurry through my tears, but I can make out a wistful smile on her lips.

"I love you, Lyden." She shudders and coughs before she can continue. "You need . . . to get the talisman . . . to Shemhazau. It's . . . too late for me."

She goes limp in my arms, and it feels like my entire life shatters with her passing. Memories of growing up, of always having her there as a constant companion, flood my mind, overwhelming my senses. I remember becoming interested in women, and crushing hard on the older redhead. I remember her showing up to my high school graduation, and all my other friends being jealous that she was there for me. When I'd scraped my knee trying to show off by doing a trick on my pedal bike, she'd been there to comfort me. I also remember finding her in that prison cell in Atlantis, wounded and hurt. The look on her face when I'd broken free of my restraints in TanaVesta's chamber. So many memories, and yet they seem to flit through my mind with barely a moment's hesitation.

Heart breaking, I bend over the form that had once been Brooke, the redheaded mermaid assassin, that had also been my savior as a child, and plant a soft kiss against her immobile lips.

"I love you, too, Brooke. I'm sorry I couldn't save you." A new wave of grief washes over me, and I press my lips more firmly against hers, trying to impart everything I feel for her in this one action.

* * *

A hand on my shoulder tries to wake me, but I refuse to give it any attention. Why won't they leave me alone in my grief? Isn't it enough for them that I returned with the talisman, and augmented my curse? All I want to do is sleep, to forget my pain. Who cares what happens with the two worlds anymore? Brooke,MY Brooke has been taken away from me. Nothing else even matters.

"Lyden?"

Sometimes I even imagine I can still hear her voice. So soft and sweet, yet with a strength beneath it that belies her past.

"Lyden, wake up. We need to be going."

I roll away from the voice. Whatever bad guy it is this time, can have me.

"Dammit Lyden, I don't know what you did, but I'm not strong enough to carry you out of here." The imaginary voice of Brooke is becoming more insistent. "I didn't kill my mentor just to let you stay out here and waste away."

Annoyed, I turn and look at the speaker.

And have to do a double take.

"Brooke?!?" I demand, looking into those familiar green eyes.

"I don't know how you did it, but I woke up with a killer stomach ache a few moments ago." She points to the bloodstained tear in her clothes, and I can just make out pink puckered flesh beneath.

"But, how?" I ask, still confused.

"I don't know," she repeats. "I was hoping you could tell me." She looks past me, and I see her eyes grow large. Spinning around, I quickly get to my feet, and then have to take a moment to catch my balance as the world tries to go black. I got up too quick. "Lyden, I can't. . . ." Brooke's fear filled tone allows me to focus, and my vision clears.

Two gangly yellowish creatures are slowly. . . . I don't know what to call their motion. Two long arms, each with two elbows, and two stubby legs attach to short but muscular bodies. The things' movements are a cross between shuffling, crawling, and sliding over the ground. The creepiest part is that they have no head, just a mouth full of yellow sharp teeth between their shoulder blades.

My entire body aches as I bend over and pick up Douglas's blade in my left hand. My other hand is still useless. Muramasa is already back on my hip. I see Brooke pick up the leather thong with the talisman attached, and place the blood soaked necklace about her neck.

"There's already been enough death today," I tell the two things, hoping they at least have ears to hear me. They continue coming closer. "What are they?"

"I don't know," Brooke replies. Her left hand is over the scar of her wounded stomach, and her assassin's blade sits lightly in her right hand.

Leaning on each other, we begin to back away, placing our backs against the building. A sound to my left draws my attention, and I see two more of the creatures coming at us from that direction.

"Lyden," Brooke's voice is full of worry.

"Lemme guess," I say sardonically. "There is two more coming from the other side."

"I wish," she mutters, mimicking my tone. "There are four."

I open my mouth to swear, and stop myself. Muramasa isn't influencing me right now, and there's no reason to act otherwise.

Muramasa. . . . With him in my hands, I could protect us from all eight of the monsters.

And probably lose my identity in the process.

Why can't I catch a break? I mentally demand of no one in particular. Sometimes I miss those times when Sheila would yell at me to get back to my reports.

"Come on! Let's get those fucking fuckers!" I hear a female shout a moment before the blast of a shotgun knocks one of the beasts in front of us over. A moment later, a rifle and pistol report in, and the second thing goes down.

"What took you so long, Jennifer?" I ask, trying to stifle a giggle. I know if I let it out right now, they'll all think I'm mad. Heck, for that matter, I almost wonder if I am half crazed. How are they here?

"Eh, sorry doc," she says imitating Bugs Bunny, "but we, eh, took a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

"Between talking and flying dolphins, and ants that breathe fire, I'm not sure I'll ever get another peaceful night's rest," Captain Jewkes states. "Or how I'm going to write this up in a report."

"I've got a great psyche at the local VA," Thomas says, shouldering his rifle.

"If you're done chit-chatting," Lisa yells out, "there are still a few more of those things around." The athletic blonde swings her short sword, lopping off one of the over-long arms of the monstrosity she's facing. Becky finishes it off a second later with a quick thrust of her blade through its chest. The two work perfectly together, their movements synced.

The fallen monster's companion rears up on its stubby back legs, towering over the two women by a good three feet, but topples forward a second later, and I see the hilt of Ondine's dagger sticking out of its back.

I turn to face the four that Brooke had informed me of, but can only barely make out their back ends as they high tail it out of here.

* * *

"So when the dolphin told us you needed help, we didn't hesitate," Thomas says as we sit around a small table in Douglas's cabin. The old assassin had had the key to it on him, and while the space is cramped, we all feel a bit better with solid walls around us.

Sheila sets a bowl of some kind of stew in front of me, and then drops to her knees besides me and proceeds to spoon feed me. She'd fussed over my wrist, bandaging it, and worrying about how I'm going to defend myself with a busted appendage. AnnaBelle and her had remained back during the fighting, only coming forward when the all clear was given.

"So your succubus and the fairy remained behind, while you went on this dangerous mission?" Jewkes asks me, and I nod in response as I chew some kind of meat from the stew. "And you say that the person we came here to meet is actually your father, whom you thought has been dead all these years? Damn, your life is screwed up." He looks around the room, his gaze lingering for a few moments on Sheila before shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" I ask Sheila.

"A tavern maid learns all sorts of things, Master," she smiles enigmatically as she brushes her fingers along the wrappings on my wrist.

"They do, indeed," I smile down at her, remembering Marchosias's fantasy world, and thinking that he ended up helping me out more than he'd intended.

"You should get some rest and help heal your friend, Master," my slave continues, pulling me to my feet, and leading me over to the bed where Brooke is already asleep. The bed is small, barely big enough for the two of us, but soft and soon I'm out cold.

"What took you so long?" Brooke asks me, and I know I'm in our shared mind-space.

"Some of us didn't get healed up as much after the battle as others did," I say, holding up my right arm. Apparently my wounds aren't reflected here, as my wrist is fully functional.

She laughs lightly as she lifts the hem of her shirt, and looks at her unblemished stomach.

"Awe," I moan disappointedly when she puts the shirt back down.

Her eyes sparkle as she grins at me before looking around at the blankness that makes up the atmosphere of the mindscape. "Do you ever find it odd that we find ourselves together in here, more than in the real world?"

That sobers me up. "Well, if you weren't so fragile, maybe I wouldn't have to heal you so often," I try to say jokingly. I'm not sure it comes out as I'd intended.

"If you'd quit needing saving, maybe I could refrain from getting injured," she shoots back, and I can see the sparkle return to her beautiful eyes.

I laugh, and she joins me as we come together and hug. I can't help but wonder at the warmth that infuses my body as her arms wrap around my torso and her curly redhead lays on my shoulder.

"I love you," I murmur. "And if you ever try something as harebrained as sacrificing yourself for me again, I'll never say those words again."

She tries to pull indignantly away from me, but I firmly place my hand on her head, and squeeze her body to mine until she quits struggling.

"I can't lose you," I hear her say after a few seconds, and she hugs me tighter. "I gave up every dream I ever had to save you. Everything I ever knew, I abandoned to make sure you lived. I'm not willing to give that up, and I will sacrifice anything to keep you alive."

I'm stunned at the import of her words. I'd never looked at it from that angle before, but it seems so obvious now. She had wanted to be an assassin, but failed her final test: me.

"Why don't we make sure we both live," I tell her softly. "You've always been there for me. You've been more a part of my life than anyone else has, and when I thought I'd lost you, I couldn't handle it. If you want me to stay alive, then you'd better do the same."

"That's pretty selfish of you," she replies. "How did you bring me back, anyway?"

"I wish I knew," I chuckle. "One moment I'm hugging you to me, the next, you were waking me up. Whatever it was knocked me out."

"Is that why you really brought us here?" she asks, and I can hear a note of laughter in her tone. "To recoup the energy you lost in bringing me back?"

"Wasn't it you that just informed me of how selfish I am?" I ask back, releasing her head, and letting her look up at me.

"That's okay," she replies with a wide smile, "I'm pretty selfish sometimes, too." She seals her statement with a kiss. The kiss isn't passionate or demanding, as Sheila's are, but unique to Brooke alone. No tongue is involved, just our lips pressed together in a way that portrays how much she cares for me, and I for her.

Her hands tell a different story, however, as they work at the button to my pants, wanting to get them down and off. My hands roam her back, and I can't stop my fingers from curling against the cloth of her top when her slender fingers grip my already hard phallus. I moan into our kiss as she begins rubbing the sensitive head.

I know that sex isn't necessary to complete the healing while in this unique place, but I won't pass up the opportunity for it either.

With a quick mental thought, I cause our clothing to vanish altogether. It might be more fun to undress each other, but I really don't want to break our kiss, or the wonderful sensations she's sending through my thick rod.

She gasps as I drop my right hand to her rear, giving the firm flesh a good squeeze. Taking the opportunity of her open mouth, I dart my tongue in, and quickly find it twining with hers.

Bringing my left hand around, I quickly locate the small nipple on her tiny right breast, and use my thumb to stimulate it until it's nice and hard.

She's light as I use my grip on her rump to lift her up, and then gently lay her down on the dark floor. Finally willing to break our kiss, I let my lips meander across her cheek, until I reach her left earlobe. I stop here for a bit, nibbling gently while my left hand glides across the smooth expanse of her stomach until I find the already wet hole at the juncture between her legs. Her fingernails scratch my back as I move my hand from side-to-side, eliciting moan after moan from the gorgeous woman beneath me.

Breaking away from her ear, I slowly alternate between kissing and nibbling my way down her neck and chest, until I reach her left breast. Her nipple is already taut and standing proud, even though I haven't given this one any attention and I devour it with gusto, while simultaneously slipping my middle two fingers into her. Crooking the two invading digits, I rub hard across the top wall of her uterus, until she explodes in a loud orgasm.

Releasing her nipple from between my teeth, I immediately move the rest of the way down her body, locking my lips with her nether-lips, while she's still shuddering, and tasting her sweet nectar as it flows from her honey-pot.

Her orgasm seems to extend as I concentrate on nibbling her tiny clitoris, until she painfully grips my hair and pulls my head away.

"Enough! I can't take that anymore. Lyden, I want you in me now. I want to be complete with you again." Her voice is thick with desire, and I can't resist her.

Moving back up her body, I begin rubbing the tip against her opening, but her legs wrap around me with astounding speed and strength, and she pulls me into her with one quick motion, screaming out her enjoyment as I moan with the feeling of her soft wet flesh sliding around my conforming cock.

Her legs keep me locked in pace, but she uses her pelvis to lift up and down beneath me. Gazing down at her, she has her hands gripping my arms below the shoulder, her eyes closed tight, and a delightful smile on her pretty lips as she brings herself off against me.

I wait for her quivering to stop, before I roll us over, and pull her chest down to my salivating mouth. Her small breast easily fits between my lips as I suck hard on it, and I truly take pleasure in the way her tight coochy tightens around my prick. My hands drop to her rear again, and I use my grip to pick up the pace of our lovemaking, feeling my culmination coming close.

Brooke's hands grip the side of my head, and she pulls me away from her sensitive tit to press her mouth back against mine. This time her tongue invades my mouth a moment before I feel her fluids gush around my pole. She feels too wonderful for me to hold back any more, and I let loose with my first volley, gasping with pure unadulterated bliss as our combined climaxes comingle.

Time loses all meaning as we float through a haze of pleasure and delight in each other, and when I finally return to myself, I find I'm back in bed, snuggled tightly against the redhead.

The shutters have been drawn tight against the bright light outside, and I can hear a few snores around the cramped little hut.

Feeling refreshed and renewed, I carefully get out of bed, and walk towards the outline of the door. I can see Thomas and Ondine curled up together on the floor in the brilliant light as I slip out, and smile for the two. I really hope they're happy together.

Jewkes meets me outside, and I can see Thomas's rifle across his lap.

"You're not trying to slip off and do something heroic, are you?" he asks me, and I notice a cigarette dangling from his lips beneath his hooked nose.