Legacy of the Succubus Read online

  Vargas ground his jaw.

  “Look, we need you as much as you need us. We need you to continue to push for Supernaturals to have all the same rights as humans. We need you to help people understand we are not all bad, and not all of us are good, either. You need us to keep Supernatural threats who would feed on this city at bay.” I crossed my arms, looking at him.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “There are other issues.”

  “What other issues?” Logan asked.

  “The adoption records for the children in your care. Many of them lack proper documentation, leaving me to wonder if you really are their guardians. Child Protection Services believes that I should relocate the children into a foster home until their real parents can be found and proper guardianship established.”

  “You touch my children and I will make you eat your balls,” I hissed at him. He reached down to cup the anatomy in question.

  “What Olivia means is, the children are going nowhere, and if you try to use them as a bargaining chip again, we will let the Vampire High Council play whatever sick and twisted games they have in mind for your town.”

  “It’s your town, too.”

  “We can relocate,” I hissed.

  “So that’s it? I do what you two demand or suffer your wrath? Why are you collecting all those children?” His eyes narrowed at us.

  “Not our wrath, our lack of protection,” Logan clarified. “And raising them, well.”

  “This isn’t the Mafia,” Vargas countered. “Rules need to be followed.”

  “No, we are far more organized, but the idea is the same,” I answered him with a shrug.

  “I won’t agree to any of this,” he hissed.

  “No one said you had to.” I stood, about done with the conversation. “But it’s in your best interest to.”

  I moved to the doors, feeling Logan behind me. “This isn’t over!” Vargas yelled, the last of his control breaking.

  “It is for now,” I told him, meeting his gaze for a long moment. “Just ask Hash.”

  “How dare you threaten me!”

  “It’s not a threat, it’s a reminder that not all Supernaturals behave as we do,” Logan reminded him again. The man was dense.

  We didn’t speak as we exited the building. There was nothing to say. I could feel Logan’s worry for the situation. St. Ann was the testing ground for shifters. What happened here tended to be reflected on a national scale.

  “We will figure it out,” I told him, waiting outside for the car to pull around.

  Logan shrugged. “He has the same mentality as Hash about us, but lacks the corruption.”

  “They all think that way,” I told him softly.

  “Not everyone. Those we saved during the rogue attacks don’t.”

  I shook my head, wishing that was enough. We had always lived beside the humans. I wished the vampires had just stayed in the fucking closet. Hell, I wished we could put all the Supernaturals back in the closet.

  The ground shook under our feet. Logan and I looked at each other.

  “You feel that?” I asked, my fingers itching to palm a knife.

  “I do,” Logan answered, looking up and into the night. I waited, hoping his keen hearing or smell would pick something up.

  Turned out there was no need for shifter senses. The boom was deafening. The sound wave, or whatever the hell it was, threw us back against the building.

  I groaned, dust raining down on us as I slid down onto my ass.

  “What the fuck was that?” I grunted, pulling my feet under me. My phone began ringing. I was amazed it had survived in my bra.

  “Becky,” I answered, taking Logan’s offered hand, holding the phone with my shoulder for a moment.

  “Boss, you okay?” she asked worriedly.

  “Yeah, just got a little knocked around. Do you know what that was?”

  “No idea. The readings are off the charts, every science center monitoring … well, everything has alarms going off. The mansion and the farm, banks, everything is going off.”

  “The mansion?” I asked, turning my worried gaze to Logan.

  He pulled out his own phone, hopefully dialing Tommy.

  “Yes, I’m monitoring the camera feed and I don’t see anything amiss. Hudson is getting all the kids into the panic room.”

  “Good.” I whooshed out a breath.

  Our car pulled up with a screeching of tires. “Do you need backup?” I asked Becky.

  “Blue is here.” She almost sounded guilty at that confession.

  “Good, anything changes or you get a location, call me back.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  Logan and I climbed into the car. “Get us back to the mansion, now!” I commanded. The driver hit the gas without asking another question.

  I turned to Logan, anxiously waiting for his side of the conversation.

  “I know, just get them in there. Yes, I’ll have Olivia call Tommy.”

  He must be talking to Hudson, I realized. I still had my phone out and quickly dialed Tommy.

  “Olie,” he whispered.

  “Everyone okay?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

  “Yeah, Hudson is making us go into the panic room, is that really necessary? I don’t have my monitors in there.”

  Well, apparently everything was okay if he was worried about his monitors.

  “Yes, get in there, at least until we get back. I have no idea what that was.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Everyone in, Olie’s orders.”

  “Stay safe, we will be there soon.”

  “Yeah, you too,” he grumbled.

  The car shook and teetered dangerously on two wheels. “What the fuck?” I grumbled, leaning forward with Logan to look through the windshield.

  “What the fuck is that?” I asked Logan.

  The dark night sky had been pierced by a brilliant white light, clouds circling around the beam. As fast as it had appeared, it died out.

  “I don’t know, but get us to the mansion,” Logan commanded.

  The rest of the drive we spent watching the sky, searching for any sign of trouble. Part of me wanted to head to where that light had hit the ground, assuming it had hit the ground.

  Logan picked up on my thoughts. “The kids should be safe in the panic room. What more could we do there?” he asked me.

  I groaned. My curiosity was getting the better of me and he was making solid points.

  “Let’s go.”

  The driver looked back at us, hearing our conversation before altering our course. I was thankful Logan vetted his staff well, but I still would have preferred to have Jerry driving us.

  It didn’t take long before we were unable to drive any further. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who thought investigating a glowing beam in the sky was a good idea.

  Exiting the vehicle, I looked around at the humans yelling, laughing and talking. Many had their phones out, recording.

  “This is dangerous,” I muttered.

  “They are adults,” Logan said, just as a child ran across our path. “We can’t protect them from their own stupidity,” he reminded me. Right, just from Supernaturals.

  I took a long inhale, looking around for any of those, but didn’t see one. At least our kind were smarter, most of the time.

  Pushing through bodies, Logan and I made our way to the center where all the action was happening. In the middle of the street was one massive, lone tree.

  I grabbed Logan, pulling him back, my fingers digging into his forearm. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It’s from the fucking Fae,” I hissed. “We have to destroy it.”

  The roots of the tree were spreading, concrete and asphalt breaking under its assault.

  “Fire, we need fire,” I said, turning around and looking for something flammable, wishing one of us had a smoking problem.

  The tree roared.

  “Fuck.” I pulled my blades out, looking at Logan. The crowd around us was still too stup
id to know what was going on. Thick roots pulled up before slapping down again, cutting the crowds down, finally knocking sense into the idiots milling around.

  Logan and I were jostled, but we kept our positions, stepping forward into the enraged tree’s warpath.

  “I’ll keep it busy, go find us something to burn it with,” I yelled at him over the din.

  He growled once, expressing his dislike for my plan, or at being bossed around, but I didn’t give it a second thought before running at the tree, palming blades and wishing for a sword.

  I was never leaving home without one again.

  Circling around the monstrosity, which stretched higher than the ten-story buildings downtown where it had landed, I searched for a face, finding a horribly disfigured one. Twin sagging eyes, seeping green fluid. I stepped back, horror and disgust shouting warnings within me. The green goop fell onto the asphalt with a sizzling sound, etching the black asphalt away.

  Great, not only was it a giant walking tree, it cried acid. Fantastic. Here’s hoping fire did the trick.

  I ducked under a branch that swung my way.

  It seemed pointless, but I kissed a blade before heaving it at one its eyes. The bark on the trunk was etched with thick lines that made me think it was damn near impenetrable. The only vulnerable things I saw were those eyes. The succubus-kissed blade hit the white of one, and an ear-piercing wail followed. The limbs flailed with the pain, knocking down buildings and normal trees in the process. Green goo dripped from the wound, hitting the asphalt and eating it away.

  “Olivia, the Executioner. I have come for you,” it boomed, swaying, its good eye fixed on me. The sagging mouth hung open. Thankfully, no green acid spat out of it.

  “Join the club, fucker,” I yelled, palming another blade. The first one was slowly being expelled in a thick river of green acid.

  Wonderful, while I may have landed a blow, it certainly wasn’t a killing one. Hell, it wasn’t even slowing the damn thing down. Another step with massive trunks supporting and moving it. I wobbled, thrown off by its ground-pounding force. I flung another blade at the trunk, ducking down in case of more acid, which I was sorely doubting.

  The blade bounced harmlessly off its thick exterior. Perfect.

  Another branch came at me, and I wasn’t fast enough this time, taking the blow across the midsection and hurtling across the street. Fucker moved fast for its behemoth size.

  “Asshole,” I painfully grunted, certain I had a cracked rib or two from that blow.

  Pushing myself into a sitting position, I looked down at the road rash covering my right side. Awesome. So much for trying to disprove Logan’s Olivia-ruins-all-my-fancy-clothing claim. With a grunt, I pushed to my feet, wobbly, before running at the tree stomping its way to me.

  Anytime now, I thought to Logan.

  Had a disagreement with a business owner, I’m on my way.

  I pulled blades. Ducking under the massive branch aimed for my head, I slammed the blades down into the thick trunk. As I had hoped, the extra force behind my blades found me purchase.

  I used the blades as hand holds, pulling them out and slamming them back into the trunk, which apparently didn’t bother big leafy as he made his slow trek. What the hell? Wasn’t he after me?

  Reaching a branch, I swung myself up, pulling only one blade with me. I was right under the canopy of leaves. Blowing out a breath, I cut at the thinner branches there.

  The monster screamed again, flailing and dislodging me from my branch. I fell onto the hard asphalt on my side, renewing my already vicious road rash.

  Without time to groan, I rolled under the root that tried to crush me.

  “Olivia, clear out!” Logan bellowed.

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I hobbled to him as he threw Molotov cocktails at the beast. Terrible waste of whatever alcohol was in them, if you ask me.

  The monster screamed, a high-pitched wail that rang in my ears and cut to my core. The fire quickly traveled up the rugged exterior and into the leaves. The flames traveled rapidly, enveloping the writhing tree in a swift show until all that remained was a blackened husk.

  I kicked it over, coughing back the ash that tried to enter my mouth.

  “Remind me to get a flamethrower from Myrtle,” I told Logan.

  He nodded once, picking my weight up easily as we made our way back to the car.

  “It spoke to you,” Logan said.

  “It did,” I confirmed.

  “What did it want?”

  I shrugged.

  “Olie,” Logan warned.

  “It cried acid,” I offered to sidetrack him.

  He grunted, “That explains your back.”

  “But not who summoned it or had enough magic to reach the Fae,” I said, my eyes drooping heavily.

  “I guess you could have asked.”

  I grunted as Logan slipped me into the backseat of the car. The trip back was far quicker, now that the humans had cleared out.

  I leaned my forearm against the front seat headrest, not wanting to put pressure on my back while Logan wrapped it up.

  He ripped my dress down the back. “How bad is it?” I asked.

  He grunted a noncommittal answer. “That bad,” I answered myself.

  I leaned my heavy head against the headrest with a groan.

  …

  The gates had been locked down at the mansion and the newly established guardhouse was empty. We got out of the car, carefully unlocking the side gate. The wrought iron had electricity running though it and while it wouldn’t kill Logan, it would knock him out and in my wounded state, I didn’t relish the idea of dragging him into the house.

  Thankfully, we made it past that booby trap unharmed. Hudson stood at the front door watching us. I had a flash back to Grams doing the same. I trampled the emotions down quickly.

  “You made the news again,” he said.

  I grunted, pushing past him.

  “Infirmary,” Logan commanded, guiding me into the small medical room we had set up on the first floor, since someone was always getting hurt and ruining her clothing.

  I looked back at Logan; aside from a minor blood stain, his outfit was relatively unharmed. Not fair.

  “Next time, I get the fire and you distract.”

  Logan laughed as I sat down on the metal table. He stripped out of his jacket, rolling up his sleeves before pulling down gauze, cleaner and tape from the shelves.

  I sprawled on my stomach, resting my chin on my interlaced hands.

  The instant the disinfectant hit my back I tensed up, holding back a scream.

  “What was that thing?” Hudson asked, poking his head in. It was quickly followed by, “Can I let the kids out?”

  “I don’t know,” Logan answered. “And yes. We didn’t see any more.”

  Hudson’s feet retreated and I was lost in controlling my pain and my screaming until Logan finished.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any lingering effect in the acid,” Logan said, securing the tape to my back.

  I nodded, sitting up and heaving a sigh while he went to put everything away.

  “Never a dull moment,” I told Logan with a smile as he finished and turned to help me down.

  I plopped down to my feet, regretting my lack of grace. I was moving slowly around the corner when Tommy spotted me.

  “Olivia!” he yelled, barreling into me.

  “Let go!” I yelled, pushing him back hurriedly, resting my hands on my knees, panting from the pain.

  “She got attacked by a monster who dripped acid,” Logan explained, “and tossed her around like a rag doll.”

  “Are you okay?” Tommy asked worriedly, bending down to look at me.

  “Yeah, sorry buddy. Just tired. I need to rest and heal,” I told him, straightening.

  He nodded as I looked up and saw my father and Doyle coming down the stairs.

  “You two, in my office.” I commanded.

  They looked at each other before turning around and
retreating back up the stairs.

  “It’s our office,” Logan corrected.

  “That just doesn’t sound as cool,” I told him, fighting my way up the stairs.

  With a groan and a heavy exhale, I dropped into a chair. “A tree from the fucked up world of the Fae showed up tonight in the middle of the city.”

  My father nodded. “We saw it on the TV.”

  “How the fuck is that possible?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. To move such a large and cherished object would take great magic and energy.”

  “Why send a cherished object here?” Logan asked.

  The Magician shrugged. “I don’t know. It takes eons for the trees to grow, they are keepers of powerful magic in their realm.”

  “It knew Olivia’s name,” Logan added.

  The Magician’s eyed widened, his sea green gaze resting on me. “What did it want?”

  “I don’t know, I was too busy trying to stay alive. The damn thing almost took out an entire block,” I complained.

  “Hmm,” my father mused.

  “She needs her powers,” Doyle rumbled. It wasn’t the first time he had made that claim.

  The Magician sighed, “And I am not healed enough to obtain my books.”

  “I have an idea on that,” I proposed. “What do you know about the djinn?”

  My father shared a wary look with Doyle. “Not much, except that they are powerful and dangerous.”

  I huffed, pulling out my phone. “Yeah. I have one.”

  “You have a djinn?” my father asked, shocked.

  “I killed his master and he became mine. Apparently, freeing a djinn ends in death. So I’ve been stuck with him.”

  I had made Amin get a phone and check in periodically. You know, just to be sure he hadn’t gone off the deep end and enslaved an entire town. So far, he had continued to check in and all was well in his black-market art dealings.

  He answered on the third ring.

  “Olivia, no I did not send a giant tree to your town.”

  “Well that’s reassuring, but not why I am calling.”

  “Do tell.” Amin sounded interested, in a bored, I’ve-lived-forever way.

  “Can you help a magician boost his powers to open a portal to where the succubi are held prisoner?” I asked.

  Amin paused. “That was a loaded sentence. To answer the question, yes I can.”