The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (48 page)

“Becks, no!” Leese cries out, bending over her deputy, and checking for a pulse. Tears pour from her eyes when she doesn’t find one. Tears are quickly replaced with rage as she stands and faces the other guard, in time to see Ondy take the blue armor-clad guard’s blade through her stomach, and fall next to Thomas.

The two remaining women face off against each other, attacks ringing out as sword meets sword. The blue-armored guard is the better fighter, but she’s slowed down by her many wounds. Blow after blow, parry after parry, the two women go back and forth, until the guard is able to put her blade into Leese’s right shoulder. The deputy drops her weapon from nerveless fingers, and tries to stumble away from the blow she knows will land next.

The guard delivers a mighty kick to Leese’s jaw, cranking her head to the side. The sound of her neck snapping is unmistakable.

“Bravo!” Lord Mark cries out, clapping his hands. “Bravo!” He walks over to his triumphant guard, and smiles down at her. Without warning, his sword arm comes up, and his guard collapses in two pieces, the blade severing her torso from her legs. The speed and ease with which he dispatches his own guard belies his prowess with the weapon.

I want to demand to know
why
he would kill his own servant, but my mouth refuses to function.

“We couldn’t let one of them survive, now could we?” he asks me mockingly. “Now we’re just down to you, me, and my newest little pet here,” his smile turns to Thomas’s daughter, but she doesn’t react. I can see that her eyes are glazed over, and feel sorry for whatever torments this monster has in store for her.

“Now, I believe you wanted to have a battle,” he says to me, waving his hand again. I can feel control over my own body return to me. “Draw your blade, little thing. I begin to grow weary of this game.” Despite his words, I can see laughter in his eyes.

I hate to do it, but I know I don’t stand a chance against this monster, unless I draw Muramasa from his sheath.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” the large man waves dramatically, but I know he is just being melodramatic, “What fun would this little fight be, without your true memories?”

Lord Mark snaps his fingers. A searing lance of pain erupts behind my eyes. White encompasses everything as the fog that has sat over my mind since waking up in this world, lifts. Memories, thoughts, and feelings flood through my system, and with dawning horror, I realize what’s happened.

Almost everyone I know is dead. Angela, Brooke, Becky, Lisa, Jennifer, Ondine, and even Thomas are all beyond my help now, manipulated and destroyed by Marchosias’s evil machinations.

Even Miranda’s death weighs on me, and she’d wanted to kill me in truth.

I don’t know when I fall to my knees, but as I stand back up and look at the six dead bodies around me, I have to fight hard not to be overwhelmed by despair.

Dead. . . . They’re all dead! All because I’d chosen to rescue a little fairy. The same fairy I’d been tricked into coming on this quest to rescue again. She’s still standing there, eyes glazed over, not even aware of what is going on.

“Shall we end our little play, Lyden Snow?” Marchosias asks me, laughter ringing in his baritone voice. “There are only two ways for you to return to the real world: take Arethusa’s maidenhead, or allow me to kill you. Should it be the latter, I will take her virginity and soul, enjoying every moment of it.”

Rage, hotter than any I’ve ever felt in the past suffuses my limbs, burning away my despair and replacing it with a purpose; kill Marchosias. He must answer for his crimes. No matter how skilled a warrior he is, I vow not to rest, until I destroy him.

Muramasa is free from his sheath in one swift motion, no longer willing to give myself a second thought on the consequences. My cursed blade crows in glee at his freedom.
Yes! Feed me his soul! Let me devour him! Allow me to caress his soft skin. I want to feed!

“
No
!” the demon yells, backing away, and I can see fear enter into his eyes, his voice incredulous. I pay it no heed as I charge him. “How did you get that blade?” He barely deflects my first blow in time, Muramasa guiding my movements. “That isn’t supposed to be here! It was in my study.” My next blow comes within a hair of his shoulder, and the large man leaps back to get some breathing room. “Lyden, you must stop!” Desperation is in his tone now as he continues to back away. I want nothing more than to press the attack, but Muramasa holds me in check, only allowing me to slowly approach. “This whole thing was a farce. A game! It isn’t—”

Muramasa frees me. I charge forward, sword raised. I watch as the demon brings his blade up to block me, and suddenly I’m spinning, bringing my sword in low. Sparks fly as the demon uses his unnatural speed to deflect my strike. The sentient blade directs my every move, and I don’t even hesitate as he cries out for blood. Pressing the attack, I watch in glee as the evil creature before me truly begins to fear for his very existence. My blade will feast on his soul today, and while it won’t bring back my loved ones, it will at least be some measure of recompense. He will not have Arethusa!

Marchosias is speaking to me, pleading with me, but my blood pounds in my ears, and I can’t understand his words. His hands make the same gesture that’d frozen me in place earlier, but Muramasa somehow deflects the demon’s power.

Finally I draw blood as my blade sinks deeply into the demon’s thigh. His howl of pain is sweet music to my ears, penetrating the blood rage that guides me.

The large monster waves his hand to something to my right. I see something golden out of the corner of my eye. Spinning to destroy this new threat, I barely stop Muramasa from splitting Arethusa’s skull.

Kill her! Kill them all!
my wicked blade sings in my mind, but I regain control over myself, and turn to face the demon.

He’s gone. Whether fled to the real world, or somewhere in this fantasy world, I’m not sure.

“Lyden?” a soft voice says near me, fear and worry in her tone. “Wh—what happened? Where are we?”

Muramasa continues to demand I kill her, but I resist, taking more effort than it should to do so. Seeing that there is blood on the blade, I shudder, and quickly sheath my sword. The original Lyden, the one I am again, knew nothing of this blade. The Lyden that Marchosias created for his entertainment knows how deadly this sword is.

I also know how cursed I am to have it in my possession, now that I’ve drawn it, and drawn blood.

Muramasa cannot be sheathed unless he’s drawn blood. He will also stay with me until I go mad, killing everyone I know before either killing myself in grief, or getting killed in turn.

I don’t know how wounded Marchosias truly is, but it’s less than he deserves for what he’s done. Not only for the deaths he’s caused, but for saddling me with this blade and the deaths I know will come of it.

Seeing Angela’s Amazonian head, the spear in Becky’s gut, and both pieces of Brooke. . . . Bending over, I empty my stomach of all its contents, unable to look at my friends and lovers anymore.

I don’t know how long I stay hunched over, but when I return to the present, it’s Areth’s golden tinged cherubic face that greets me.

“Welcome back,” she says nervously, which is so very unlike her. There is tenderness to her now, which is new. I wonder if it’s an effect of Marchosias’s messing with our minds, or something else.

I try to turn my head to look around, realizing that I’m lying with my head in the pixie’s lap, but her hands grip my face and forces me to look at her.

“No, don’t,” she tells me. I feel fresh hot tears spring to my eyes. “Where are we, and how do we get home?” There is fear and worry in her tone. I want to comfort her, and be comforted in turn.

“I don’t know,” I say, then remember something Marchosias had said. The mere thought of the demon makes my vision go red, and Muramasa begins to sing to me. I fight it all down as I recall the dark-souled creature’s words. “Either I have to die, or. . . .” I trail off, remembering the rest. Or I take her maidenhead. I can’t do that to her. “I have to die.” I say, trying to cover my almost slip.

The fairy shakes her head though. “Or you have to take my maidenhead,” she states, already knowing the answer somehow. “I know the way demons think. He set this whole thing up to punish us. What worse punishment can there be, than watching your friends die, and then dying in futility, knowing there is nothing you can do. Or, if you actually did defeat the demon, you’d be stuck here, until I gave up my. . . . Well, either way, I’d be punished as well.”

I decide not to tell her what her fate would have been, had I lost to the demon. “I don’t understand?” I say, confused. “I mean, I understand if I take your virginity, but not about if I die. How does that punish you?” I ask.

Her slap against my face stings as much as it’s unexpected. Shoving me off her lap, she glares at me. “Are you really that dumb?” she demands, reminding me of when we’d first met. “Haven’t you figured it out, yet?” I can only blink at her in confusion. I try to look around, trying to find something to help me understand what her problem is, and only then notice that we’re no longer in the throne room. The fairy must have moved me while I was unaware. “You really don’t know.”

“Know
what
?” I demand.

She shakes her head and moves back over to me. “It doesn’t matter,” she tells me softly, and it’s at this point I conclude all women are crazy. “Lyden, you can’t die. You
must
fulfill the prophecy, or so many more will die. Giving you my most precious gift is a small price to pay, for saving so many lives.”

“Why should I care about all those other lives?” I demand with anger heating my voice. I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth when I see the hurt in her eyes.

“Because you wouldn’t be the Lyden I know if you didn’t. You’re a dolt, but you’re a dolt with a heart. Not all of your friends are dead,” she points out. I want to yell that ‘Yes, they are!’

Sheila, AnnaBelle, and Debbie cross my mind. They’re still alive. At least, they will be if I can end this world.

I remember Miranda’s—or rather Randa’s—words here, about me destroying this world. I realize that they are true. One way or another, this world will end, but it won’t kill everyone like she’d thought.

“But your soul!” I state, not willing to give up. “I can’t take that from you. I’d rather commit suicide to end this world, than do that to you.”

“I don’t think that will work,” she tells me sadly. “Marchosias would have wanted to ensure you made it all the way to the end. Only he can kill you, or you must take my maidenhead. There is no other choice.” Her slender hands hold my cheeks firmly, gazing deeply into my gray eyes. “As far as my soul, you cannot take what is freely given.”

“But—“ I try to protest some more, but her lips against mine cut me short. There is no passion or sorrow in this kiss, but simple tenderness. Our lips are the only parts of our mouths that are touching, but that is enough for me to understand that this is truly okay with her. She’s willing to chain herself to me for the rest of our lives, to save both our worlds.

Can I make any less of a sacrifice to save so many lives?

Pulling my head back, I look deeply into her golden eyes, cupping her chin. Funny how I’ve never noticed their rich color until now. Probably due to me being colorblind.

“Are you sure?” I have to ask one last time.

“Just be gentle,” she says, and I can see the determination writ across her face. “I still get a little uncomfortable sitting down after the last time.” She says it with a wry smile, but I can see how nervous she is.

Using my grip on her chin, I pull her face back to mine, kissing her softly. Her slender arms wrap carefully around my neck, and I lay us down on the hard rock ground. There are worse places to take a woman’s virginity, I suppose, but none come to mind at the moment.

Reaching down to the skirt of her yellow dress, I gradually begin to move it up. By the time I have it above her waist, our tongues are dancing in each other’s mouths. My hands discover that she isn’t wearing any undergarments as I lightly begin to knead her buttocks. I feel her tense up at my intimate touch, but I don’t stop. I don’t go any further yet, either.

We continue to kiss like this for a bit, until I feel her relax. Letting go of her rear, I start moving her bright dress up her body some more, until it’s just under her chest.

Her head pulls back as she bites her bottom lip in thought. We stare at each other, knowing that it isn’t necessary to remove the dress, but also knowing it’s something I desire.

Suddenly deciding, she grips the bottom of her clothing, and yanks it up over her head. Her perfectly formed breasts sit firm and high on her chest, no sag to them at all. “Might as well do it all the way,” she states, that wry smile still on her pretty face. “I think you’re making me as perverted as you are.”

I raise my hands to her sides and easily roll us over. It takes me a second to get my leather jerkin off, and then even longer to undo the ties to my pants.

She gasps as my cock springs free, even though this isn’t the first time she’s seen it. This
is
the first time that she’s had a say in whether or not she’s going to allow it into her body.

“You promised to be gentle,” she reminds me, her eyes never leaving my one-eyed monster.

“I promise to be gentle,” I tell her solemnly. “I promise to be gentle. I promise to be gentle.” She laughs slightly, finally looking up to meet my eyes as I make the promise three times.

“Thrice sworn, and done,” she quips, nodding.

“Thrice sworn,” I agree, looking at the beautiful fairy, minus her wings. I can see her skin is flushed, and her breathing is a little heavy from her nervousness. I’m going to have to get her to relax, if we’re going to get this done with minimal pain for her.

She jumps guiltily as I gently touch her right foot. Slowly, I caress it with my fingers, paying careful attention to the undersides of the toes and the delicate arch. Using the backs of my fingernails, I tickle my way up her calves, and guiding her tiny digits to my mouth. Despite her nervous nature, she lets out a slight moan as the tip of my tongue brushes against her big toe.