Daniel couldn't believe his good fortune— to have uncovered a succubus in his own adopted city.
There was little doubt for Daniel that the woman who bore such a striking resemblance to Katarina von Regensburg was indeed a succubus. It seemed incredible... hell, it was incredible. Yet everything in her reaction to him suggested that he had indeed stumbled upon an agent of the devil.
He had long known that evil walked among the unsuspecting. Indeed, that was the primary reason for his theological studies. To wage war against the forces of chaos was, in his mind, the highest calling. That he should encounter on such force in the flesh was in itself a sign from God that he had been chosen to take up the fight.
After he'd recovered from his encounter with Katarina, he hurried to the residence. He would study and research, redoubling his efforts to understand those who had come before him and those who currently fought the war. And it was a war. Not the kind of war written about in the history books, but a real war, a secret war, with heroes unknown to the innocent masses. The Vatican's current chief exorcist, Father Gabriele Amwroth, had, on the heels of the avalanche of sex abuse scandals in the Roman Catholic church, just months ago stated that the Devil was at work at the Vatican. What an admission! He'd spoken of the smoke of Satan in the holy rooms. And now Daniel had caught a whiff of that smoke himself. He had, if not proof, then strong evidence that the agents of evil were living among the unsuspecting citizens of Heidelberg.
Yes, he would study and commit to memory the ancient rites. He would pray for strength for the battle that was to be waged. Perhaps it was the sin of pride, but he felt himself chosen to lay low this demon. Everything pointed to this interpretation, for had not God revealed the demon to him?
He debated whether to bring the matter up to Father Schmidt, his advisor on this academic exchange. In the end, he decided against it. Father Schmidt did not appear to possess that spiritual gravitas that suggested receptiveness to what Daniel might have told him. In matters of biblical interpretation, not all members of the clergy were of the same mind as Father Amwroth.
In the end, Daniel decided that the best course for now was to organize the information that he had on Katarina von Regensburg. He returned to the archives and paused to study the portrait that had launched him on this path. Again, he was startled by the likeness between the figure in the portrait and the woman he'd approached in the street. It was unmistakable. But there were things he hadn't noticed before. The artist had done a remarkable job in capturing the smoldering depths of Katarina's eyes. The light caught the knowing half-smile and the full, sweet redness her lips. She wore an off-the-shoulder dress that hinted at the fullness of her breasts, with tantalizing shadows that suggested a deep cleft between them. A corseted waist flared into shapely hips, almost lost in the volume of satin that cascaded to the floor. Clever shadows in the fabric hinted at the dark delta that lay hidden beneath it.
There was no doubt that she was beautiful.
The painted image merged with his recollection of the succubus as his mind drifted back to the afternoon. Those same breasts had pressed against his chest. He could feel their yielding softness still. And the warmth of her. And the hand that had touched his cheek. It could have been the touch of a lover had her eyes not betrayed such burning anger. Her scent came to him, almost as though she were standing right there in the room, looking at her own portrait over his shoulder.
Nervously, he looked around. He was alone.
He shook his head and then noticed with alarm that an erection pressed against the fabric of his trousers now as it did then.
"God help me," he muttered to himself.
He took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself and tore his eyes away from the portrait.
He reached for a book that contained the history Heidelberg and the Palatinate-Neuburg line that had ruled it until the late 1700s.
He scanned the text, looking for any mention of Katarina von Regensburg. There were very few references. She had, by all accounts, insinuated herself into the Heidelberg aristocracy as a lady in waiting for Anna Maria Luisa de' Medici, second wife of Johann Wilhelm II. The latter soon took her as a mistress. Strangely, it was Katarina who influenced Johann to proclaim religious tolerance.
Later in life, Katarina married and was banished from the court by Johann Wilhelm's successor, Charles III Philip, who believed that Katarina's continued presence in the court dishonored Johann's memory. She lived out the rest of her life in poverty.
Daniel wondered whether it was Johann's successor who had defaced the portrait. It certainly fit with the fact that he'd been a cleric.
There was much to know. Unfortunately, the details that would have added color to the known facts had been lost in the passage of time.
Daniel looked at the clock and saw that he had missed supper. In fact, it was now quite late. Not only that, but he had missed evening prayer.
"Damn," he muttered to himself.
Alas, such were the sacrifices he had to make.
***
Sleep evaded Daniel for many hours. His head swam with visions of Katarina von Regensburg and the battle in which he had no doubt he would play a central role. He would bask in the glory of God and the accolades of his brethren. His name would be spoken in hushed whispers in the halls of the Vatican. It would be a difficult battle, but with the God on his side, how could good not triumph over the forces of evil?
When sleep finally did come, daylight was a mere few hours away. It was a fitful sleep with unrelated thoughts chasing each other about in his mind.
Daniel would later not be sure of what woke him -- whether it was a whiff of fragrance or the unmistakable sense of a presence in his modest bedroom.
He scanned the room, peering in the dark corners, trying to separate the familiar shadows from a darkness that didn't belong.
Something was there. He could feel it.
As his eyes became accustomed to the gloom, he could make out what looked like a figure, standing against the dresser just beneath the crucifix that hung on the wall.
The figure approached, taking a tentative step into the moonlight that illuminated a small patch on the opposite wall.
Daniel's breath caught.
There stood Katarina von Regensburg, looking unlike the portrait or the woman he'd met on the street, for this incarnation of the woman, the succubus, stood naked and proud and flawless, arms crossed beneath ample breasts.
It seemed impossible that something so unspeakably beautiful could be evil. Her presence within the room far surpassed her physical size. She stood perhaps five and a half feet, yet she seemed to fill the space, as though everything in it bent towards her. She inclined her head to him, her shimmering black hair framing features that were cast in delicious contrast by the faint moonlight that illuminated them. With a slow, seductive wink and an enervating smile, she stretched her arms out from her sides, palms up, slender fingers slightly curled in a blasphemous parody of a crucifixion.
Here I am, she seemed to say. This could be yours.
He realized with alarm that her offer did not fill him with horror.
Her nipples stood puckered and erect on those voluptuous breasts. Against his will, his eyes raked the slender shape of her waist to her full hips and then down her impossibly long, muscular legs. She spread them slightly, resting her weight on one, thrusting out a hip, accentuating the curvaceous geography of her body. In the shadows between her legs, he could just make out the tender ripples of her labia. She began to turn, a lazy pirouette on the ball of one foot. Something golden glinted between her legs. No dancer on this earth could surpass her grace. Her pubic mound disappeared from view, replaced by a firm, shapely buttocks. The circle continued until she faced him again.
Daniel realized that he was growing aroused.
Again that smile quirked the edges of her mouth. A dimple played on one cheek. Her hands came together before her as though in prayer, coming to rest just beneath her breasts, slender fingers extended in the valley between them. She raised her hands then, lifting those tender orbs on her wrists and then her forearms, the shape of them swelling with the pressure exerted on them. Her nipples disappeared beneath her arms. So yielding. So soft and welcoming. Her hands rose higher still, passing in front of her face. Unsupported now, her breasts fell to their previous position, bouncing and swaying ever so slightly.
Daniel's throat constricted.
