Incubus (11 page)

what she says or she’ll beat you up.”

The athletic senior frowned at me, his eyes flat and hard. “You’re defending this prick?” I turned

back to Lucas, hoping for some help. In answer, Lucas folded his arms across his chest, unwilling to

get involved. The senior took this for an answer and swung at the boy again.

I darted forward and blocked the punch, redirecting the senior’s momentum to send him stumbling

to the side.

“What the hell?” he shouted at me. But the second he made a move forward, Lucas was there with

a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from getting any closer.

“I told you,” the freckled boy said, howling with laughter. He and his friend released the skinny

kid, who stumbled to his knees, scrabbling in the dirt for his bag. He must have fallen earlier; I could

see the dirt along one side of his head, matted in his short blond hair.

The athletic boy’s features clouded with anger at his friends. “What are you doing? You’re letting

him go?” The other seniors hesitated, glancing down at the skinny boy.

“Come on, man,” Lucas said softly. “You made a mistake. Don’t make it worse.”

The senior looked from Lucas to me and back, then shrugged Lucas off angrily. “Whatever. You

want the little dweeb? You can have him.”

He stormed off, with his snickering friends in tow.

I turned back to the new boy. He clutched his backpack tightly in one fist, avoiding my gaze.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“If I’d wanted your help, I would have asked,” he snapped.

Lucas snorted in disgust and turned his back on the skinny boy.

“Why are you being such a jack-hole?” I snapped back. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m the reason

those seniors aren’t grinding you into a bloody pulp right now.”

The skinny boy ignored me, kneeling in the dirt to collect the books and papers that had spilled out

of his backpack when the older kids had attacked. With an exasperated sigh, I knelt beside him to help

gather his things up. He glanced at me, his face red. I held a book out to him. After a long moment, he

took the book from me gingerly.

Lucas shook his head but thankfully refrained from comment. He ran to chase down some loose

papers before they could blow away. The skinny kid eyed me as we worked collecting his things.

“I’m Braedyn,” I said. I picked another book up off the ground and spotted his mangled glasses.

“Seth,” he replied.

I handed him the glasses, and when he took them our hands brushed. With the touch, Seth looked

up, and I saw his unguarded expression for the first time. His eyes were a vibrant, warm blue I’d only

ever seen on postcards of the Caribbean. But it was the emotion within his eyes that caught my breath.

He looked vulnerable. Scared.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. Stripped of its customary venom, Seth’s voice was pleasant. It had a

texture to it, a sort of raspy warmth I could listen to all day.

“Sure,” I said, feeling awkward.

Seth put his glasses on and bent to grab another book off the ground.

I turned away to collect some more loose papers. But as my eye fell on the pages in my hands I

froze. A drawing stared up at me. Inky claws, leathery wings, spiky silver teeth—there was no

mistaking this for anything but a Lilitu. I let my eyes slip to the other pages papering the ground all

around me. Page after page was filled with research on the Lilitu, symbols like the ones on a

Guardsman’s dagger, sketches of the old mission.

I looked up and saw Seth watching me with the strangest look on his face—a sort of curious

surprise.

Lucas joined us, holding a stack of loose-leaf pages. “Here,” he said, thrusting them at Seth.

Seth and I stood together. Lucas saw my expression and glanced at the pages in my hands. His eyes

widened slightly before darting back to Seth.

“Thanks,” Seth said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll take those.” He snatched the pages out of my hands,

bent to retrieve his backpack, and hurried back into the heart of campus.

“He’s researching Lilitu,” I whispered.

“Why?” Lucas wondered aloud. We watched Seth’s retreating back until he darted into a building

and out of view.

“Hey, guys, there you are!” Cassie waved at us from the door of the theater building. Royal

followed her out, slipping on his sunglasses against the afternoon glare.

Lucas glanced my way, a question in his eyes. I shook my head slightly. We couldn’t go with

Cassie and Royal to the fabric store. Not until we’d told the Guard about the new student at Coronado

Prep with the backpack full of research on the Lilitu.

Cassie bounded over to us, face alive with excitement. Guilt twisted my insides, but this couldn’t

wait. Cassie would just have to understand.

Chapter 5

The drive home was full of speculation. Lucas and I discussed the extremely remote possibility that

Seth was some kind of random Lilitu hobbyist who’d just happened to move to Puerto Escondido on

the eve of the final battle. Add to that the fact that we’d run into him poking around the old mission,

and we couldn’t dismiss the truth staring us in the face; Seth knew Lilitu were real, and he was

actively researching them right now.

Which opened up a vast ocean of questions. Who was Seth? How did he know about Lilitu? What

did he know about the mission? Why was he poking around out there - and how did he happen to be

there just as we went back to investigate? Did he know about the seal? What drew him to Puerto

Escondido in the first place?

“Hale will know what to do,” Lucas finally said.

A few moments later, I pulled into the driveway in front of my house. As September edged closer

to October, the old oak trees of the neighborhood were beginning to shed their leaves, carpeting the

road on either side in deep golden drifts.

We got out of my car, crossed through the lawn, and climbed the front steps to the Guard’s house.

We’d hoped to find Hale at home, but in the foyer we saw that the living room was packed. Lucas and

I looked at one another, curious, and walked inside.

A stranger sat in the center of the group. She looked to be in her early fifties, with comfortable

curves and soft wispy hair edged in gray at the temples. She was riffling through some papers,

chewing absently on her lower lip. When she found whatever it was she was looking for, she pushed

her glasses up on her nose and straightened.

“Yes, here it is. Note the date on that page, Mr. Thane.” She handed a paper over to Thane, who

took it eagerly.

“1628.” Thane’s breath caught and he pored over the page. “But the original?”

“It was locked in a vault at the Library,” the woman answered. “I obtained these copies close to 30

years ago, before they’d done any digital archiving. Thank heaven.”

“How much of the library was destroyed?” Hale asked, grimly.

“Oh, it was destroyed in its entirety,” she said, surprised at the question. “Leveled, Mr. Hale. Did

you expect anything less?”

Dad sat back, unsettled. The woman looked up, peering at us through her spectacles.

“And these young people are...?” she asked.

“My daughter, Braedyn,” Dad said quickly. “And this is Lucas Mitchell.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintances,” she said. “I’m Angela Linwood.”

“She’s an archivist for the Guard,” Dad explained. “Leadership thought we could use a hand.” I

glanced at Dad, sensing his unease. His eyes warned me to watch what I said. Which could only mean

Angela didn’t know I was a Lilitu.

“Why?” Lucas asked, glancing at Thane. “You’re in over your head?”

“Linwood is the acknowledged expert on Lilitu outliers,” Thane said in strained voice.

Hale cleared his throat. “She’s been reassigned to our unit.”

“Oh?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level. “For how long?”

“Permenantly, I expect,” Angela said. She adjusted her glasses and gave me a warm smile. “You

look to be about the same age as my son. Come here, dear. Let me introduce you.”

Angela gestured past us. Lucas and I turned, noticing for the first time that a blond boy was sitting

at the edge of the Guard’s bay window. He sat, arms crossed, a patchwork of darkening bruises

covering one side of his face. I stifled a gasp. It was Seth.

“They go to my school, mom,” Seth said. He walked forward, blushing hotly.

“Ah, you’ve met?” Angela’s eyes sharpened, an unvoiced question hanging in the air. She turned

to study Lucas critically.

Seth’s blush deepened. “It wasn’t him. Actually,” Seth glanced at me out of the corner of his eye,

“they kind of broke it up.”

Angela’s expression warmed instantly. “Well, then, you have my thanks.” She gestured at a pair of

empty chairs against a wall. “Pull up a seat. We’ve got serious business to discuss.”

After we were settled in our seats, Hale leaned forward. “You were saying something about

precedent?” he prompted Angela.

“Yes, precisely.” Angela nodded toward the paper in Thane’s hands. “The most recent recorded

encounter with a female Thrall was almost 400 years ago. And it happened right here, in Puerto

Escondido.” She rustled through a few more sheets of tightly scrawled notes. “Roughly the same time

as the Guard’s only recorded encounter with—where is that page? Ah, here.” She looked at Thane

triumphantly. “1628.”

“You’re not saying you think—” Gretchen looked to Thane for confirmation.

Thane took the new sheet of notes from Angela and scanned it for a long moment. “Interesting,” he

murmured. “Of course, you’re assuming a great many things. But it would explain some of the

peculiarities surrounding this case.”

Lucas and I shared a bewildered look.

Dad noticed our confusion. “I think you’d better go back to the beginning, Linwood.”

Angela looked up. “Pardon?” Dad nodded his head in our direction, and she pursed her lips. “Yes,

of course. I was intrigued when Terrance told me your group had encountered a woman in Thrall,” she

explained. “It’s been a sort of side project of my work for the Guard, researching curiosities in our

history.”

“Curiosities?” Lucas said. “That
curiosity
almost killed Braedyn and me.”

“I didn’t realize,” she glanced at Hale. “You mean to tell me these children faced an attacking

Thrall on their own and survived?”

“Would you believe it wasn’t the first time?” Hale answered. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed

Seth turn to give us an appraising glance. “We take their training seriously,” Hale said.

“Apparently.” Angela adjusted her glasses. “Perhaps Seth could join you for some lessons?”

“Mom,” Seth looked pained. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“I think a few pointers in the self-defense department might do you a world of good.”

“A few pointers won’t help me,” he murmured. He looked so miserable, I felt my heart go out to

him.

“I’m confused,” I said, pulling Angela’s focus back to the subject at hand. “Why is it such a big

deal that the Thrall was a woman?”

“Excellent question. I assume you know how a Thrall is created?” Angela asked.

“I do,” I said, blushing. It was one of the first things I’d learned about Lilitu, back before I knew I

was one of them. Lucas had explained it to me; the first time a Lilitu spends the night with a man, she

weakens him severely, but it is possible for him to recover over time. The second time, he becomes a

Thrall; a walking shell of a man bound to obey the Lilitu without the will to fight or question her

orders. There is no recovery possible, once you’ve become a Thrall. The third time a Lilitu sleeps with

a man, he dies.

“Then you know that a Lilitu’s power begins with desire,” Angela explained, as though she were

telling me how to make a peanut butter sandwich. “And as far as we can tell, the Thrall who attacked

you had been a happily married, heterosexual woman.”

Angela watched my expression as I mulled this over. When the realization hit me, it was suddenly

so obvious. “So, the Lilitu that attacked her, it was male?”

“Very good, Miss Murphy,” Angela said. “Rare as he may be, a male Lilitu is known colloquially

by another name; incubus.”

“Wait,” Lucas breathed. “You mean an incubus is here? In Puerto Escondido?”

“That is my theory, yes.”

“How do we fight it?” Gretchen asked. “Is he like a regular Lilitu? Will I be able to spot him?”

Angela spread her hands helplessly. “I wish I could answer your questions, but I’m afraid we

simply don’t know. We need to try to reconstruct as much of the history of your mission as possible. It

seems tied to this incubus somehow. I hope, if I can piece together what happened, I can fill in some

of the gaps in our knowledge. Seth,” Angela turned to her son, beckoning him closer, “did you get a

chance to take another set of rubbings in the mission?”

Seth opened his backpack and pulled out a stack of ruffled pages. Some of them were still edged in

dirt. He laid them out on the coffee table gingerly.

“What do you see?” Angela asked the group.

Hale frowned. “The stations of the cross. Hand carved. Typical of Catholic missions.”

“Yes, but that’s only part of the story,” Angela said. “Look here.” She pointed to a collection of