This story is copyright of Lisa X Lopez and Tori Hamlin
Author's Note & Acknowledgement:
I want to thank my awesome co-author, Hamlin, for lending his dark noncon/reluctance twist to this story, as well as some awesome magical battle scenes. I hope you'll enjoy this first part. This installment covers chapters five and six of ten. The complete story of The Demon Chain is a 28K word novella that follows the story of Jalissa, as she is forced to serve the dark desires and will of the demon, Succubi.
Synopsis:
Thousands of years ago, seven ancient demons of incredible power were sealed away within seven magical artifacts. The demon chains were forged to contain their evil powers, but even the greatest of magic couldn't harness them fully. In time, the chains passed into legend and were forgotten by most.
In the ruins of Dar'Kasha, Jalissa hunts for lost treasures. She's a pilferer, a scavenger, wandering the world in search of artifacts to sell. When she uncovers a hidden chamber, the treasure she finds within is one that will exact a terrible price on her, instead.
Within this forgotten room, in the dusty fingers of a desiccated skeleton, is a gem-laden chain that glows with its own magical light. The thing seems to sing to her, to call to her, urging her to bear it from the darkness. What Jalissa doesn't realize, is that she's just carried forth an ancient evil. And it's one that's begun to consume her soul from the moment she touched it.
Now, she's in a race against time, fighting the demon's compulsions and her own temptation. She finds herself in the company of a less-than-competent mage, with the demon's power growing as it uses her body to feed. Before it can consume her, she'll need to find a way to free herself from its vile hold or perish in the attempt.
Chapter Five: Demon Dreams
Jalissa tossed fitfully that night, in her room. The demon was awake. If her dreams the night before had been disturbing, barely remembered visions, tonight they were more than dreams.
Whatever power Succubi had taken from her latest kill, it had strengthened it. Now, it showed her things and it spoke to her. The visions were hazy, dreamlike themselves, but clear enough that she felt them with her own body. The sensations, whether they were from the demon's own memories or foreshadowing its evil desires, were as potent as if they were happening to her now.
They were visions of seduction. Men and women fell on their knees before her, enthralled, devoted, worshipful. Some she rewarded with her body or with her praise, others with gifts and treasures that were grander than anything Jalissa had plundered in the ruins. Still others, she consumed, and the terrible pleasure she eeked out of their deaths was more potent than anything she'd felt thus far.
"There's no need to fight. We can be one. We will be as a goddess among them."
The words came in that whisper, calming, alluring, bewitching. The whisper promised devotion and captivated her imagination with the visions.
"We will be their queen. This world and those beyond it belong to us. Succumb."
Jalissa wept as she touched herself, the pleasure of those visions so real. One hand worked between her spread legs, while the other rested on the warded coin. Her fingers itched with the compulsion to tear it away, discard it.
"Build your own world with me. Take all that you care to. Let them worship at your feet. Tear it away, Jalissa."
That beguiling whisper tempted her with everything that she'd ever wanted. Almost everything. There was one temptation, one desire, that it could not promise, though. It was the only thing that she clung to, the sole reason that her hand continued to clench around the coin, rather than ripping it off and giving herself to the demon.
Succubi, for all of its power, with all its wiles, intrigues, and seductions, could not give Jalissa the one, silly thing that all her life she'd wanted. Succubi would never love her. No thrall, no slave, no conquest could ever truly love her.
The torture went on for hours, Jalissa stroking and pleasuring herself to the visions. Despite those pleasures, though, she did not give in. By the time the demon withdrew with a mental snarl, Jalissa's tears had soaked the thin, straw-filled pillow of her room. As weary as she felt, however, she couldn't bring herself to sleep more than a few minutes at a time.
***
Chapter Six: The Road
Jalissa splurged on the luxury of a second bath, eager to clean her pussy out more than anything else. The thought of the dead Reacher's cock dust inside her made her ill. As she cleaned herself, she blushingly thought of Bandric and realized that she, also, didn't want him to think that she smelled bad.
"Handsome."
The whisper made her pause in her cleaning. The demon had been silent since tempting her the night before. It had been so quiet that its lack of presence was nearly as disturbing as its actual presence.
"Go away."
The demon did not reply. She could feel it there, spider-like again, watching. She had hoped that, somehow, exerting enough power to show her all those visions had weakened it in some way. She felt a flash of anger at the thought and gave the thing a mental fuck you in response. That earned her a quick, harsh loss of control that forced her to rise out of the bath, despite the ward.
"No!"
She felt the demon throw its will against the ward, felt its pain at the effort, its anger at her. It wanted to show her that her paltry magic coin was no true barrier against its wrath if it chose to exert itself. Even as the thing forced her, naked, to open the door of the bathing room, she could also feel its power draining away. It was making a point, but it was doing it at a cost.
She pushed back against it with her own will, but the thing was strong, stronger than her if it chose to be. It did. She pulled open the door and stepped out into the open waiting area, dripping wet and nude. Outside, there were other patrons waiting for their turn in one of the hot, private baths. They turned to look at her, expressions ranging from shock to revulsion, to lust. The demon drew back with a hiss and she had control once more. She flushed and almost stammered an apology, but instead, she rushed back into the room and slammed the door.
After drying herself and dressing in lighter traveling clothes, she shouldered her pack. Embarrassed, she opened the door once more and trudged past the other patrons. They leered and giggled at her as she hurried out, her cheeks red. The sun was just lighting the sky as she walked toward the northeast end.
Gaining entry into one of the upper-class areas required another frisking and inspection of her goods, as well as checking her weapons and paying a tax. Finding the will-o-wisp and wand proved easy enough, too. Alenthia's climate was only slightly cooler than the jungle heat of Canilia, thus Jalissa's lighter, more revealing blouse of white linen drew appreciatory glances from the few patrons who were already awake. Bandric was not among those already gathered, and so she took an empty seat to wait, ordering a watered-down wine from a serving girl.
She waited the better part of an hour, while the demon seethed quietly in the back of her mind. When Bandric did appear from the inn's upper floor, he seemed surprised and pleased to see her waiting. He quickly made his way over, clasped wrists with her, and then took a seat, shaking out the sleeves of his robe. Four silver coins fell from the sleeves, spinning across the tabletop. He mumbled a feigned apology, and clumsily snatched at the coins.
Jalissa watched, delighted and amused, as the coins continued to elude him, popping out of his fist after he'd gathered them. Then, he was juggling the things, swaying in his seat with a look of embarrassment and saying, "I'm so sorry. They just... keep getting away from me!"
She laughed and then blushed as one by one, the coins flipped from his hands and dropped down the front of her blouse, four in all.
"So sorry," he said again, and then reached behind her ear and plucked one, flipped it away, the second, flipped it away, then the final two. As each one flipped away into the air, it turned from a coin into a red rose petal, which drifted lazily downward. After the fourth one changed, Bandric snatched them each out of the air and clenched them tightly in his fist. With a flourish and puff of flame, he opened his hand and handed her a complete rose, red, fresh, and real.
"May our journey be filled with magic and merriment," he said, holding the rose.
