The group reunited outside of the brothel with Eve, shocked that the infamous Succubus Queen Malcanthet had not only survived their iconic battle within Cyndia's demon nest but was now Max's warlock patron.
Malcanthet herself looked at Eve and Kristina both with demonic vision and saw the purple inky threads of Loviatar's magic woven throughout their bodies and souls like a thorny bramble sustaining them with the darker hues of demonic curse magic hanging off the branches like juicy tempting fruit.
Such was the power of her newest acolyte, Loviatar had indeed given her a generous gift. One she intended to use to its fullest extent.
Malcanthet was obviously reluctant to entrust her safe passage through the city to the "Killers of Cyndia".
Max, taking advantage of the many bodies of her previous victims laying discarded on the floor of her cell, stepped up and reanimated two bulky luckless thugs she'd drained to physically carry her like the Queen she still believed herself to be through the city.
He did similar for Corbin although the undead thug carrying Corbin was considerably less gentle with him. He was conveyed through the streets like a sack of moldy potatoes.
It was in this way the group traveled by foot through the evening shadows to the classier parts of the city. While cobblestones paved most streets in the Imperial Capital including the vast and sprawling City of Night, the gradual increase in frequency and upkeep of trees and bushes lining those streets marked ones arrival to the noble quarter where large houses and well-maintained properties belonging to wealthy families permitted to reside in the section of the city closest to the Imperial Palace and the seat of Imperial power.
Christian's mother, the good wife Lady deBarrett, was still very much awake when they came trudging into her large and opulent home. The DeBerrett Matriarch had adapted with suspicious ease to the comings and goings of the adventurers-for-hire her crossdressing son had declared were "good friends in need of shelter and protection".
Beyond insisting they maintain a LOW PROFILE or as low a profile as famed mercenaries with a connection to the Sisters of Battle and having rescued an Imperial Princess could be expected to have, she seemed fine with the disruption to her household staff composed entirely of young men dressed up in Victorian Era maid's dresses. Christian's idea apparently; though Max, remembering his own fascination with the idea of Maid Cafes back home, wholeheartedly approved.
The household staff attended to Olivia, Eve and Kristina, tending to their minor wounds and preparing a late-night snack before they retired to their bedrooms, not always on their own.
Max on the other hand started to attend to their new houseguest himself. He drew her a hot bath and washed and cleaned her wounds and bruises. Normally he avoided using the staff for mundane tasks such as this. He publicly attributed this to his time as a domestic worker before his magical abilities manifested and the comfort he still found in menial tasks.
The truth however was he'd invited a half starved and still instinctually deadly succubus into a home where she was likely to be surrounded by volatile human emotions many of which had sexual components which she'd be drawn to like a kid in a candy store.
He was quite literally the only thing standing between Malcanthet and a massacre scene not unlike the prison cell where she'd been kept.
At least until she'd fed and regained her strength and sense of discretion.
His only concession was to Lady deBarrett who appreciated his helping out the household staff, yet preferred he NOT task animated corpses to carry out the cleaning of toilets or other more mindlessly repetitive household jobs or as Max had referred to it, having his Disney Princess Moment.
This time however he accepted the inevitable offer of assistance, letting one young man in a maid's outfit named Jordan aid him.
"You can relax my lady, I'll be happy to help you conceal yourself," Max whispered, handing a washcloth to Jordan who bathed Malcanthet's injuries carefully, including her broken demon horns and severed tail stump before drying them with a towel and using it to gently rub and pamper her broad back and the scars where her mutilated wings had been removed.
"Your skills of illusion and concealment magic are indeed impressive." Malcanthet hissed, grimacing as the houseboy treated her wounds, or more accurately what Max's illusions allowed him to perceive as her wounds.
"You could reveal your actual demonic form and he'd swear you're a sexy GILF," Max snickered quietly.
"GILF?" Malcanthet asked bemused.
"Grandmother I'd like to fuc-" Max paused, "fold in my arms and hug," he quickly amended but the ludicrously experienced succubus knew an evasion when she heard one.
Malcanthet was curious about this choice until she scented the rich aroma of lust coming from the crossdressed maid.
Malcanthet focused on Jordan and read his surface thoughts. She saw images of an elderly woman. Very intimate and incestuous thoughts of her and a friend and the several afternoons they'd spent sexually teasing and tormenting the young man. Taking advantage of his abnormally long tongue and growing fascination with female garments. Indeed it was from these afternoons Jordan's fetish for being sexually dominated had been birthed. The memories of what they'd done to him, and had him do to them, filled the young man's mind.
Max was taking the young man's deeply buried incestuous thoughts and erotic fantasies involving powerful and commanding older females and was amplifying it and tailoring it to fit Malcanthet's perceived form.
Jordan's lust then filled the air like the actual aromatic steam from the bath and seeped into Malcanthet's abused body, turning the healing bath into a kind of restorative therapy. Malcanthet moaned in joy as the young man massaged and pampered her feet and legs.
"Oh I wish I had a hundred of you boys," she moaned, her hand playing in the water, ''I'd have you attend me in my Razor Palace."
"You're royalty Milady," Jordan simpered, "I wasn't informed, I apologize."
"Displaced royalty -- but that will be soon fixed."
"Of course Milady, Master Max, is very capable. I'm sure he'll win back your throne."
"And deny myself the pleasures of your tender young hands and extraordinary tongue?" Malcanthet sighed, "I think not."
"Still if you were imprisoned in the City of Night," Max mused thoughtfully, "it stands to reason others were as well. What would I be looking for?"
"My Radiant Sisters -- at their best, they were half-dozen powerful servants skilled in bardic arts. They were meant to fight for me and to die for me before allowing me to be captured and humiliated by mortals. If you had to rescue me I suspect they are gone but we should find them if possible."
"You want to rescue them?"
"It's cute that you think that," Malcanthet sneered, "they are my servants and they failed to serve me. If they're alive I want them dead and if they're dead I want the portion of my powers invested in them returned to me so I can create new servants."
"If they were killed or restrained as you were, they may not have had a choice." Max argued.
"And if they in fact betrayed me I suspect they won't look kindly upon your own submission to my service -- they will respond aggressively."
"So I'm looking for a bunch of demon powered bards who will either try to kill me because I serve you, try to kill me because they think I imprisoned you or be themselves imprisoned by people who will try to kill me so they can find and kill YOU."
Malcanthet giggled, "Sarcasm aside, you've clearly grasped the tactical realities at play so I'll leave it to you how you deal with things."
"Got any other good news for me?"
"Should you rescue them you'll find their gratitude useful as they are how I monitor the progress of those like you I've taken as agents in my service
