My sister strode the room as if claiming her territory. Her chosen figure was humanesque, though her proportions were akin to an hourglass in the traditional sense.
A human’s vital organs would not support the pinched waist while pumping blood. A human’s body had no need for supple curves and the pout of coal-dark lips and eyes the size of dinner plates. Her amber scent mixed with the heat of spiced pepper. A human’s hair remained connected and static, not the shifting and changing black spill of coiling smoke that Izi wore. A human’s skin ran in shades of brown and tan and pink, rather than the greyscale common to our realm, from the blacks and whites of shadow and light to the silver sheen of brandished steel that she bore.
The similarities were intentionally uncanny, if only to highlight what was, and wasn’t, of this world. One was mortal. The other, a musing of womanly ideas.
I drove my anger into the back of my teeth, grinding them in an attempt to keep the rest of my face neutral. “Are you finished?”
Izi’s eyes flashed, the candlelit glint of sharpened canines sinister in the humble room. Her voice was too loud for the space. “Of course not. Though I wonder…what are you getting in return?”
I balked.
What was I getting? The question was unfathomable.
Shala had rebuilt her life, and I’d been there to watch. She’d begun anew, and when she’d stumbled into their village in the middle of the night, I’d enchanted the guard at the city wall to believe any story she told. She was greeted with compassion, given food, water, shelter, and I’d given her the greatest kindness I could for an unclaimed woman of her region, and ensured that she married well.
Fascination. Satisfaction. Pleasure. Success. The joy in each minor victory as I chipped away at the marble of the world, each fleck of stone improving this human’s life in the slightest of ways. Moment after moment I savored new after new after new.
Wordless sentries, the pair of us remained hidden as Shala sprinkled salt into the bowl and began to knead the sticky mixture. The home smelled pleasantly of the date and pistachio candy she’d made earlier in the day. I wasn’t sure why she was still cooking well after sunset, but perhaps with an empty home and nothing better to do, she liked to keep herself busy. This was new, too, and my sister was ruining it.
Izi’s lower lip protruded. “Talk to me.”
“I have no answer that would please you,” I said honestly.
My sister, as with all succubi, took lovers in the night. She lured men to their death, captivated hearts, and drank from souls. She walked through dreams and plucked what she desired from the mind. In return, her mortals were given the giftof unspeakable ecstasy. It wasn’t the conventional relationship between god and worshipper, but our kingdom had never been one for convention.
“Should we touch her again? See if we can get her to do more than shiver?”
I pushed off from the wall, flat on my feet, as if ready to fight. It was more of a reaction than I’d intended.
It thrilled her.
Her move had gotten a rise out of me the first time. She seemed to take pleasure in heightening the stakes. An iron-sharp talon sprang from Izi’s finger as she approached. This time, she went right for the head, watching my face as she ran a hand down her back, metallic-grey claws starting in Shala’s dark strands and trailing down her spine.
I grinded my teeth. My jaw knotted. I watched my sister provoke the human—myhuman.
“I’d appreciate it if you keep your hands off her.”
“She’s pretty,” Izi said.
Wrath took a protective shape as it flared within me. I didn’t need to speak for my sister to see it.
She tutted her tongue. “If you’re going to try your hand at godhood, you might as well live a little. The woman’s husband is away. How often do two of you…worship?”
The clay home flashed crimson as I saw red.
I wasn’t sure if Izi had filled the room with pheromones on purpose, or if it was an unconscious result of what she was. The onslaught of visions pulsed from her like she was the epicenter and thoughts of sex were the tremors.
Before I could brace myself, I saw Shala’s dress puddled at her feet, my hand slipped around her lower back, my fingers in her hair. Her eyes looked up into mine as I lowered my mouth for hers, feeling the blistering heat of her body against the cool skin of my corporeal form as we melted together. Thegradient whites, shimmering pinks, and the glint of turquoise were opaline on my tongue, tasting that indescribable essence…
I blinked away the vision. I did my best to look unaffected but didn’t have to look at the succubus to know I’d failed.
“I’m not an incubus,” I countered, mind flitting to Izi and her full-fledged brothers and sisters. I had no idea if they were all like this. Izi may be one of many from her mother, but we were the only two from our father, the King. She was difficult enough as it was. I was grateful I didn’t have to deal with more than one sibling. “Nor am I a god.”
“Aren’t you?” she made a contemplative face.
I didn’t like to think about it. Not then. Not now.
“Go about your business,” I waved her away, still working to collect myself from the involuntary thoughts of Shala’s mouth, of her tongue, of how it would feel to have her hold me in return. How it would feel to have her press into me, for her legs to hook around my waist, for her?—
