Here I will describe, to the best of my understanding, the physical traits observed in succubi. Much like Imps, their most defining feature are their horns. While their shape may vary between individuals, females tend to have larger horns with more curvature, and duller points, while males have smaller, sharper horns. This dichotomy holds true for their other bestial features as well. Females have longer talons, and thicker tails. Despite these differences, combat abilities seem to be matched between genders, and they demonstrate no discernable gender hierarchy. Further proof that they do not walk in God's light.
-Sir Arthur Thompson, The Demonic Archive
Recessed lights bathed the ceiling in a gradient from deep purple to gentle blue. Luxurious white sofas lined three of the walls in the small room. Dull, thumping vibrations were all that remained of the blaring music outside. The four of them sat around a polished black table. Gwen leaned forward, with both feet on the ground. Ready to act if needed. Across from her Mr. Fawn lounged with his arms stretched wide, resting one ankle on the other knee and watching her with a self assured smirk. He looked like a prince lounging on a throne.
Nestled into the crook of his arm was the woman she'd seen him enter with. She was older than Gwen had thought. Late thirties maybe? Hints of wrinkles had formed around the corners of her lips and the creases at the outer edges of her eyes. They only served to enhance her mature beauty. She wore her dark hair in a loose bun, with her bangs swept down her left side in careful curls. Her dark, form fitting dress showed off her curves and gave her an air of sophistication. A slit ran up the side, nearly to her hip, revealing a small tattoo on her tanned upper thigh. A perfect circle surrounding some kind of intricate glyph. Flowing lines flared outward at the circle's perimeter, mirrored on either side, intertwined to form shapes that reminded Gwen of wings. She gazed lovingly up at Mr. Fawn, resting a hand on his chest.
Finally, the man who had entered on Mr. Fawn's other arm sat upright against the back wall with his arms crossed. He watched the woman and Mr. Fawn with hard eyes. He was the oldest, with flecks of grey throughout his hair. He had a clean cut look, and wore a business suit. It was well fitted, but plain. His left hand bore an identical tattoo.
After Mr. Fawn had caught her, he'd led her, effortlessly, through the crowd to a dark stairway, tucked away in the back. A bouncer had nodded them through, and at some point the man had fallen in behind them. Upstairs, heads turned to follow them as Mr. Fawn marched her past the tables lining the balcony. Heavy black doors lined the back wall, leading to private rooms. They'd entered the last of them, to find the woman already waiting.
"So. Why is there a baby succubus attacking people in my club?"
At the word 'succubus' both of the humans in the room turned their attention to her. The man frowned. The woman just watched curiously. Mr. Fawn's glowing purple eyes held her. Gwen considered her options. Amy could be on her way. If she wanted to prevent her from walking straight into a demon's lair she needed to leave as soon as possible. Running wouldn't work. The room was small enough that Mr. Fawn could easily grab her as she made for the door, and she already knew he was stronger than her. Seduction wasn't an option either. Even if her powers did work on other demons, it would be a two-way street. The idea of being subjected to the incubus' will if she lost that contest, the way she'd done to Laura, didn't hold much appeal. Better to keep things friendly. The truth then, at least as much of it was safe.
"I was following you. I've never met another..."
"Demon?" He finished for her.
She'd been afraid the term might be offensive. It was what Amy and her had been using, but now seemed like a bad time to make assumptions.
"Right. I was hoping to learn more about what's happening to me. I...apologize for any trouble Mr. Fawn. Those men were harassing me in the street. If I had known they worked for you I wouldn't have hurt them."
The apology tasted bitter. Deference had never come naturally to her, and her transformation hadn't helped. Gwen wasn't the one who started the fight, and the men deserved everything she'd done to them and more. But right now Amy's safety was her top priority, so she'd suck it up. As she spoke she took off Amy's bloodstained coat and bundled it in her lap.
"Oh, you misunderstand. Do whatever you like with them. They're just humans, I can always get more. Just don't do it here."
Gwen nodded. Sensing that he would continue, she stayed quiet.
"As for the other thing," He stood. The woman clung to him for a moment before pouting and letting go. He bent forward and extended a slender arm toward her with an open hand. "Remy Fawn, owner of this fine establishment. Just Remy is fine."
"Gwen." Better not to share her surname. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. He held it softly and gave it a shake.
"And now you've met another demon." He let her go and rejoined the woman, who gave a contented sigh and took hold of his arm. "This is Emily Hawkins. And this," He gestured at the man, "is her husband Kyle. My thralls."
The man gave Gwen a simple nod. These two were married? Since she'd arrived Gwen hadn't seen Emily so much as look in his direction. Mr. Fawn... Remy, had completely stolen her away, and he kept her husband around to watch? The cruelty of it shocked her. Gwen wondered if Laura had a boyfriend. No, now wasn't the time to be fantasizing. What was it he had called them?
"You said they were your..."
"Thralls." He blinked, waiting for some response. She shrugged. "Surely you've thralled
someone
by now. I'd put you at...a week since your awakening? Two?"
"Two. How can you tell?"
"The process usually takes around a month. Claws usually mark the halfway point. Eyes come next, and the tail is the last." He raised his in demonstration, then curled it around Emily's leg. "It varies from demon to demon, but you're about half way. You definitely should have taken your first thrall by now."
"I don't know what that means." Frustration crept into her voice. "I didn't get a manual with the horns."
He chuckled. Emily smiled beside him, probably channeling his amusement.
"You'll be fine. It all comes quite naturally. No one was there to guide me, and I turned out alright."
"So what is a thrall?"
"They're like servants. No," He considered, "more than that. They're a part of you. They live to serve, and follow every command with unquestioning loyalty. It's hard to describe, but you'll understand once you feel it."
"How do you do it?"
"You've at least fed on someone by now, yes?"
Tongues dancing. A deep, lingering kiss. Gwen nodded.
"Good, that's something at least. While you consume their aura, you infuse them with yours. It's like a drug. They can't stay away. The more you give them, the more they want. Until, eventually, they give themselves to you. Complete control."
It sounded worryingly like her evolving relationship with Amy. Her mind returned to that night. Pinned to the sofa. Breathless as Amy fulfilled her blossoming fantasies. Before Amy had broken free, Gwen had felt as if she was standing at a precipice. On the verge of doing something irreversible. Something terrible. Something wonderful. Remembering that feeling, her heart, and her body, ached for it again. To cross that threshold.
"Does it always happen? Can I stop it?"
"Of course. Once a human is thralled, they're bound to you. But the choice to bind them once they've offered themselves is yours to make. Those bindings take energy to maintain. Some demons can take quite a few, but for succubi like us, usually two or three is the limit."
Good, she wasn't doing anything irreversible simply by feeding. As long as she never crossed that point of no return, Amy was safe. The promise she'd made, loomed in her mind.
"It seems cruel. To take their free will." She said the words, but her heart wasn't in them.
"You sound like a human. It's the natural order of things. They're prey to us. Besides, it's not such a bad fate. You're happy, right Emily?"
As he spoke, he looked down at her. Emily placed a hand on his cheek and raised herself up into a tender kiss. As she pulled away she glanced sideways at Gwen, smiled, and answered, "I would never go back."
"And what about him?" She tilted her head toward Kyle. When Emily and Remy turned their heads to face the man, she slipped her hand into the folds of the coat, into one of the deep pockets, and gripped her phone.
"I know my place." Kyle answered gruffly.
"He knows his place." Remy mocked. "Besides, it's not so bad for him. As long as it's not Emily, he gets to fuck whoever he wants." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "Sometimes even me. Right, daddy?" The last words were directed at Kyle, who gave a noncommittal grunt.
Gwen felt her face flush as she pictured Kyle taking out his anger on the lithe, boyish incubus. Her adrenaline had long faded and her focus was slipping away again. Why hadn't she fed on Amy when she had the chance?
Even in the dim lighting Remy must have noticed because he laughed at her and taunted, "Aww I made her blush!" He tilted his head back and gazed down his nose at her. "Still so human."
He turned away, and she raised the coat up slightly to get a glimpse of her phone screen. Before Remy could catch her she lowered it, hiding the light, and started tapping roughly where she remembered the messenger app being. Amy would be the most recent conversation, so somewhere near the top, then at the bottom to open the keyboard. Fuck, the next part would be hard. Flip phones used to make blind texting so much easier. The phone vibrated in her grip. Shit.
