The Succubae Seduction Ch 11

Of course. . . . After abandoning Lyden for over a week, the succubus has to come back, wounded and dying. What will it take to help her recover, and what dire news does she have? Lisa and Becky will get an entirely new insight into their boyfriend, as Lyden's life goes back to being haywire.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Chapter 11

Resurrections.

My legs are moving even before what I'm seeing fully sinks in. The twenty or so feet between Becky, Lisa, AnnaBelle, and I blurs as I super speed to the injured Angela's side.

"Angela, what happened?" I cry out, as I bend down to pick her up. Blood trickles from torn flesh at her eyebrow and nose. Why did I have to add that jewelry to her image last time? A small part of my mind ponders while my eyes rove her wounded body. Her eyes are closed, and I realize that it must have taken her last bit of strength to reach me. Her breathing is shallow and labored, and I can't believe how much blood is seeping from the hole in her side. Her clothing, burned and charred, is little more than rags. What skin is whole underneath it is red, raw, and blistered from her numerous burns. "Who did this to you?" I demand, anger welling up in me at the violent treatment of the succubus, but she's unconscious and doesn't respond.

"Lyden, who is it?" Becky asks as the other women finally catch up to me.

"Oh my God!" Lisa exclaims as she gets a look at Angela.

"Taking our Lord's name in vain won't help the young woman," AnnaBelle admonishes. "We need to get her to a hospital." Somehow the older woman is able to keep her voice calm, and I wonder how strong her resolve is. I'm freaking out!

Reaching my arms underneath her, I lift the petite damaged body up, and look around. Despite the picnic having just ended, no one else is even close to us.

"No hospitals," I say firmly.

"Lyden, she needs help," Becky argues, but I shake my head.

"I can help her, but we need to get somewhere quiet," I tell them, knowing that I need to get into the demonic creature's mind to transfer energy to her. I don't know what her physiology is like, but I'm guessing it'll stump a doctor and raise more questions than we can afford.

"You know this creature." AnnaBelle's voice makes it clear that that was a statement and not a question. Her use of the word creature, and not girl, makes me wonder if the pious woman can sense the injured woman's nature. "We'll take my SUV so that we can all fit. I live just a few miles away. Lyden, you work on her wounds in the back, while I drive."

"What about us," Becky asks, but it's Lisa that answers.

"He's going to need our help," the martial artist says, and we follow the older woman to her large vehicle.

The women try to help me get the blue haired woman into the back of AnnaBelle's SUV, but I'm able to do it alone. I know they just want to help, but I don't want anyone else touching her. There is so much blood!

Ripping off my shirt, I tear it apart, and start using the cloth as bandages while we head to my coworker's home.

"Lyden, what's going on?" Becky asks. "Who is she? What happened to her?"

"I don't know, and she was a friend," I tell the short brunette while trying to staunch the blood flowing from her side.

If anything else is said, I'm not aware of it, as I try to enter the succubus's mind while still awake, but it's no good.

The SUV jounces as we pull into a driveway, and I look outside to see a rather nice looking suburban home. The walls are brick and mortar, with a small white picket fence around the front yard.

AnnaBelle opens the back door to her vehicle, and I carry the still insensible Angela into the home. Religious pictures adorn every wall, and there is even a piano in the front room. Everything seems to be covered in white doilies, and in one corner is a collection of porcelain dolls in a wood and glass cabinet.

The older woman leads us back to a room that adds a whole new level to the color white. White bed sheets cover the bed, while white curtains frame the open window. The walls and even the carpet are white. The only objects of a different color are the five people in here, and a large painted portrait of Jesus opposite the bed.

I don't even hesitate as I lay Angela on the bed, soaking the white linen with her crimson blood. Despite my best efforts, some blood still seeps from her wounds, making a stark contrast to the white bedding.

"What do we need to do?" Becky asks, leaning over me and examining Angela. "How are you going to help her, Lyden?

It takes a strong effort of will to stand up and look away from Angela and to the three women.

"See what you can do to stop the bleeding. AnnaBelle, is there somewhere close I can take a nap?" If the odd request surprises her, AnnaBelle doesn't show it. I'd prefer to stay in here, but I won't be able to sleep if the other women are taking care of Angela's wounds.

"Right this way," the older woman says, and leads me to an adjoining room. This one is thankfully a different color, even if it is yellow. I'm glad to note that not everything in here is one color. The pillows on the bed are orange. "You know what she is, don't you?" the older woman asks, and I nod. I don't have time to wonder how she knows.

Without even taking off my shoes, I lie down on the bed, and concentrate on falling asleep. Bit by bit, I block out the noises from the next room. I ignore the feeling of drying blood on my pants, hands, and chest, just focusing on the thought of sleep and entering into Angela's mind. My body is so geared up with fear and worry that it seems to take an eternity, but finally I find myself surrounded by complete darkness.

It's different this time, however, than it had been with Brooke. The blackness is tinged with red, and while I feel fine, I can sense her pain around me.

"It won't work," a pain-filled voice says as Angela appears before me. "You're wasting your time." Her clothing is whole again and blood free, but there is still an unhealthy pallor to her skin.

"Angela, what happened? I need to get you healed. You're dying!" I tell the woman, but she sadly shakes her head.

"If we have sex in my mind, I'll die," she states, and I feel my heart plummet at her words. It's one thing to know her life is in danger, and another to actually hear it said aloud. "You're too good at pleasing me, and I'm too weak to have even one orgasm."

"But there has to be a way!" I plead, not willing to give up.

"Listen, that's not important. Brooke is being held prisoner by Varun. You need to go save her." Her words send a new chill down my spine, but I shake my head, trying to stay focused. "You need to worry about her more."

"Not important? We can go rescue her as soon as you're better," I tell her earnestly.

A tear forms in her eyes, as she steps up to me and grips my hand. "Thank you, Lyden. I'm glad you care for me, but you need to get to your friend. She needs you now, and at least you can help her." She pulls away, and I try to grab her back, by my hands go right through her. "Take the key-card out of my pocket. You know how to use it to get to the Shadow World." She fades a little in my vision, and I can barely make her out as she turns and says, "I've missed you, but maybe there is still time for Brooke."

"Dammit, Angela!" I swear. "There has to be a way!"

Her shadowy form smiles at me. "Don't swear, love. I know how much it bothers you." She pauses, and I can just make out her features enough to know that she's trying to come to a decision. "Get me to your car. It might be enough to save me." Those words seem to take a toll on her, as if it took a great effort to get them out.

Her form completely vanishes, and I find myself back on the yellow bed.

My car? But it's destroyed; nothing more than a burnt husk! Filled with despair, I walk back into the white room.

"Lyden!" Lisa shouts as soon as she sees me. "We've got the bleeding stopped and some of the burns covered, but I'm afraid she's lost too much blood. Were you able to help her with whatever you were doing?"

My throat closes off, and I can't find the words to reply, so only shake my head.

"What did you do?" Becky asks me quietly, and I feel fresh tears streaming down my cheeks.

What did I do? I didn't do enough. I didn't do anything. If only my car were still whole, then whatever she'd hidden in it might have helped her, but the fire ant had destroyed it. I'm certain she'd hidden something in my car, too. How else could it help her?

But what if whatever it was, survived? The car hadn't become ash, just severely burned up. Maybe I can still save her!

With renewed hope, I pull my cell out of my pocket, and dial up the police. I end up getting transferred twice before anyone can tell me where my car was moved to.

An impound lot, halfway across town.

I call the number for the lot, and get an answering machine. The message says that they're closed on Sundays, and only open until six pm on Saturdays. Glancing at a clock on the wall, I see that it's a quarter after five.

I don't even take the time to think, as I dash back into the white room and scoop Angela back into my arms.

"AnnaBelle," I say as I head for the front door, "can you get us to the New Towne Impound Yard? It's down by the fifth precinct building."

"Lyden," Becky says hesitantly, as though she's addressing a mentally challenged person, "I don't see how that'll help her. She needs a hospital, if it's not already too late."

"Becky, Lisa, I know you won't understand, and you should probably get home." I look both women in the eyes as I speak, willing them to understand. "Angela isn't like a normal person, and human doctors can't save her."

"You mean, like an alien?" Becky asks confused.

"She's a demonic creature," AnnaBelle says, as I follow her out to her SUV. "A seductress, to be precise."

Despite my recommendation that they head home, both women climb into the SUV.

"How do you know that?" I ask from the back of the vehicle as we hit the road.

"I know the signs to look for," she replies cryptically.

"A demonic seductress?" Becky snorts, but from the serious looks the older woman and I give her, she quiets down. Lisa just looks thoughtful. I can't help but wonder what's going through their minds. I take my girlfriends to a nice religious Saturday picnic, and a woman that I obviously know shows up wounded. Not only that, but I refuse to take her to the hospital, and even try to take a nap to save her. Thankfully their not peppering me with questions, though I have some of my own.

"If you know what she is, why are you helping her?" I ask AnnaBelle, confused that such a religious person would knowingly be willing to help someone like Angela.

"Whatever you do unto the least, you do unto me, Mr. Lyden," she quotes to me. "No matter who they are, all of God's creatures deserve to be helped when we can. She may even repent of her ways, and come over to the light. I have no doubt that Father Michael could help her out a great deal."

While I don't necessarily agree with her reasons or morals, I won't argue with the result. My jealousy rears, however, at the thought of Father Michael being anywhere near Angela.

I keep a constant eye on Angela's breathing, and can hear Becky and Lisa murmuring quietly. I ignore them, as I make sure that the succubus is still alive. The drive seems to go interminably slow, though I know AnnaBelle is going as fast as she legally can.

We arrive with five minutes to spare, but the sign in the window already says closed. I spend a couple minutes pounding on the door, but nobody answers. Walking around to the side, I try to see if there is another way to get in, but the fence is about ten feet tall, and topped with barbed-wire besides.

I know what I must do as I run back to AnnaBelle's SUV.

"You might want to get out of here, so that you can't be accused of breaking and entering," I inform the three women, glad my shirt is already off, even though it made poor bandages for the succubus.

"We may not understand what's going on," Lisa speaks up, "but Becky and I are here to help. Even if it is at an impound lot."

AnnaBelle seems to debate with herself for a moment, before adding, "Someone needs to keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble. Don't take this the wrong way. If the police show up, I won't lie for you, but you need to save her life."

I can't tell you how much I appreciate all of them, but a weak cough from Angela brings my attention back to the wounded woman.

I'm tempted to use AnnaBelle's SUV to crash through the gate, like in the movies, but they're already putting their necks on the line for me, and I don't want to get them into any more trouble.

Without saying a word, I hold the blue-haired woman close to me, close my eyes, and stifle a yell as I feel my dragon wings protrude from my back. I ignore the startled oaths that come from the women at the sudden appearance of my new appendages, as well as the fatigue that follows. Thank goodness Becky and Lisa have both been so horny the last few days, or I'm not sure if I would have had the energy to do this.

Bunching my feet beneath me, I shove off hard, easily clearing the fence and the wire. At the top of my arch, I spread my wings, careful to keep my balance, and feel the air fill the thick brown leather. I don't trust myself to try and fly, only using them to slow my descent.

I still land a little harder than I like. Taking stock of my surroundings, I groan inwardly. I hadn't realized how big this lot was from the outside. I'll never find my car in here.

The sound of barking dogs grabs my attention, and I curse myself for a fool. Of course they would have some sort of security!

With Angela tucked tight to my chest, I start running, hoping to stumble across my car. Picking a row at random, I take off, looking in all directions for my car, while simultaneously watching my footing on the uneven dirt ground.

Alone and on flat pavement I know I could outrun the beasts chasing after me, but as it is, I can hear their howls getting closer as I turn down another isle. I can almost feel time slipping away, and know that the succubus is getting weaker as I try desperately to find my car.

The dogs continue to get closer, and urgently I concentrate on just finding my car. Naturally, that's when my foot catches something in the dirt, and it takes about ten steps before I regain my balance. By this point the dogs have caught up to me.

Frustrated rage fills me, as I see four dogs surround me and growling menacingly. I'm angry about Angela leaving, and then coming back like this. I'm angry at the unjust turn my life has taken, and that twelve people died in the fire that claimed my apartment complex, because some dragon decided I needed to die. Anger at how this last week has gone at work, and because I know that both Lisa and Becky are now probably terrified of me, and because I can't seem to find one single car in this entire damned yard. Impotent rage flows through my veins, and I roar back at the dogs, spreading my wings and yelling for all I'm worth.

Apparently, that's all it takes, and all four dogs take off yelping, two of them leaving trails of piss in their wake.

"Ha! That's right," I scream after them, but my euphoria is short lived, as I look down at Angela. Her face has gone ashen, and I can't tell if she's still breathing. "No, no, no," I repeat, as I drop to my knees, and place my fingers on her neck.

Nothing.

Placing my hand over her mouth, I can't feel any breath. The bandages that'd held back her bleeding are completely soaked through, and I realize that I'm too late. Angela has died in my arms, and I couldn't save her.

Hot fresh tears fill my eyes, as I scream for a different reason. She's gone, and there is nothing left.

Running out of air, I suck in to yell again, but an odd noise catches my ear. Someone is honking. The sound isn't very loud, but it IS familiar.

"Hold on," I say, though I know it's already too late. This time as I run, I'm not looking around, but keeping my footing secure and heading for the sound. It doesn't take me long before I'm standing in front of the remains of the Orange bubble.

Apparently it hadn't been as damaged as I'd thought. My memory tells me that the car had been a completely blackened husk by the time Jennifer had driven me away from that grocery store parking lot. However, before me, I can see that the doors still retain some of their color, and the dent on top where I'd landed on it doesn't look as bad as I'd thought it'd been.

I don't waste any more time, and quickly wrench open the passenger door, setting her inside. Opening the glove compartment, I reach in to see if I can find what she was after, but only find ashes. How hot had that fire been? Had it been hot enough to burn whatever she'd hidden in here? Was this whole exercise an act of futility?

Unexpectedly, I hear Angela sigh, and I look back at her in shock. I can make out her chest barely rising and falling. She's still alive! Whatever it is that she needs must be close, I reason, and with renewed hope, I start digging around my car. Nothing but ashes, and my car's interior meets my gaze. Frustrated, I pop the hood, and look into the storage space there, the engine being in the back, but all if its contents have been turned to ash as well.

"Angela," I ask softly, resting my hand on her shoulder, "We're at the car, but I can't find what you need."

"The . . . car. . . ." she whispers back.

"Yes, the car. But where?" I plead with her, and then notice something. Her face is no longer gray. Her breathing is steadier, and I can even sense that she's getting stronger.

That's when it dawns on me that what she needed wasn't something in my car, but the car itself.

What had the Cyclopes done to my car under the succubus's direction? How can my car heal the demonic creature?

Something else occurs to me, and I take a step back, looking at my car as a whole. My car had burned up from the fire ant's attack. I do remember seeing the blackened husk of the Orange Bubble, but it is recovering now. In the almost week since the close call with TanaVesta's assassin, the car had been fixing itself somehow. The dent in the top is smaller, and even as I watch, I can see the orange paint creeping up the exterior. Almost as if having Angela and the car together has somehow sped up the process.

Maybe even. . . .

"Lyden." The whisper is soft, and I can just hear it, but I rush back to the open door and see Angela's hazel eyes open and staring at me.

"You made it," I whisper in awe.

The corners of her mouth rise slightly, and she says, "You did it. Thank you." She weakly tries to raise her hand, but I reach out and grasp it, returning it to her lap. "You shouldn't have helped me, but thank you." She repeats herself. "You need to go save Brooke. She needs you now." Her free hand ruffles through the rags of her clothes, and pulls out her keycard, handing it to me. Somehow it survived whatever happened to her better than she did. "Get to her, and save her. I'll be fine now."

Watching as her burns slowly heal themselves, I understand that she is tied to the car even more than I realized. Are her burns because of the fire ant's attack on the Orange Bubble?

I realize that she wants me to leave her here, but I don't think I can do that.

"I'm not leaving you," I protest. "Not yet." I hurry around my car, and get into the driver's seat. Hopefully the car has recovered enough, but when I go to start it, there are no keys. "Dang it!" I fret, hitting my hands against the steering wheel. And just like that, the car attempts to start. It obviously has some issues as the engine in the rear doesn't sound very good, but after a number of tries, it starts.

Both doors close on their own, as I put my car in gear and drive.