Tss 3: Night's Son

Chapter 19

House of Cards

The blare of my alarm the next morning caught me entirely off guard. It wasn't that I hadn't expected to wake up; rather, the circumstances of my awakening were wholly unexpected. There I was, sandwiched in our bed with a wife snuggled up on each side--an undeniably cozy, albeit sweltering, arrangement! To my surprise, the sheets were clean, and Charlotte hadn't whisked me away into her mental realm, allowing me a rare night of undisturbed sleep.

"Are you mad at me?" I silently inquired of the succubus as I fumbled to silence my alarm, careful not to disturb the slumbering women beside me. It was uncharacteristic of the sensual demon to miss an opportunity for nocturnal escapades.

In lieu of a direct response, I sensed her presence--a tired but satisfied aura. Perhaps the previous night's events had taken a heavier toll on her than I'd realized. After all, with unexpected guests, including the Pillars of Light and Dark, and an unforeseen quest landing squarely on my shoulders, the evening was anything but restful. The wild passion that ensued in my bedroom and the eventual descent into oblivion were small mercies.

However, my stealthy attempt to deactivate the alarm without rousing Shayna or Elly proved futile. Stealth was clearly not among my talents.

"Ugh, I don't think I can handle class today," Shayna groaned, her voice thick with drowsiness. "In fact, I doubt I'll be sitting down comfortably for a while."

"Sorry; not sorry," I chuckled, extricating myself from the embrace of my two human furnaces.

"That's easy for you to say. You didn't take a pole up your ass last night," Shayna retorted, her tone a mix of grumpiness and jest.

"Keep talking like that, and you'll find yourself on a pole hiatus," I teased back, playfully smacking her tight brown posterior.

"I'd welcome it right now if you're offering," Elly chimed in, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief as she gazed up at me for the first time that morning.

I leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Elly's lips before pulling back, a wistful expression in my eyes. "Tempting, but I'm past due for a solid workout. Now, while I'm well aware you both can get me sweating and elevate my heart rate, I need to focus on building strength over endurance."

"Yeah, my asshole's telling me your endurance is more than good enough!" Shayna's tone was teasing, a playful glint in her eye belying her words as she mock-glared at me. "I think you've got plenty, already."

"Play nice, and I might just kiss it better later," I retorted, giving her a quick peck. "Fancy joining me in the gym?"

Shayna pondered momentarily before shaking her head. "Today's leg day for me, and I doubt I can muster the necessary effort. But give us a heads-up before you shower, alright?"

"Will do," I affirmed with a nod, grabbing a pair of shorts on my way out. Pausing, I added, "Oh, and Elly? Thanks for tidying up last night. I owe you a special treat."

"I didn't--" Elly began, but I was already through the door, making my way to our gym room. If I pushed the pace, I could squeeze in a solid workout before my classes.

Midway through my routine, Charlotte's voice echoed in my mind.

You know, you don't actually have to do this, right? Our body can morph into any form we desire. You could be the spitting image of Adonis with a mere thought. Just don't emulate the real Adonis; that guy was a total jerk.

Her words caught me off guard, and I burst out laughing, losing count of my reps. Charlotte, with her perfect memory, promptly reminded me.

"Appreciate it," I voiced aloud in the empty room. "But there's something about the endorphin rush and knowing I've earned this physique."

I could simulate that rush for you, but I get the whole 'earning it' thing

, she mused, her thoughts tinged with a playful note.

"It holds more value when it's earned, not given," I concurred. "Take this house, for instance. It's grander than anything I've ever known, and sure, I enjoy it. But if it all disappeared tomorrow, I wouldn't be crushed. It was handed to me, not earned."

And your wives?

Was that an accusation in her tone? A surge of anger rippled through me, but I quelled it, realizing there was no malice behind her words. I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding.

"The day after First Knight, I might have agreed with you. But they're individuals, not possessions. Since then, I've poured myself into earning their trust and love. They're carrying my children, for God's sake. Losing any one of them would shatter me. Our relationships are far from flawless, but they're absolutely worth every bit of effort."

So are you, just so you know

. Charlotte's affirmation filled me with a disconcerting warmth. Sure, we've reached a sort of understanding now, despite a rocky start. Yes, she's a sex-crazed demon, and that irks me, but I can't really claim she's led me astray, barring one incident with the shower post-resurrection and that incedent in Utah with the oni. And I've come to believe that wasn't entirely her fault.

Ah, you really do love me!

"I didn't say that!" I snapped, frustrated by her knack for reading my thoughts. "You're just not as malevolent as I initially believed."

And coming from you, that's practically a love declaration!

Her laughter echoed in my mind.

And for the record, the effort I've invested in us is absolutely worth it.

Knock it off!

I retorted mentally, channeling my agitation into the bench press.

Next, you'll be declaring your love and upsetting the delicate balance we've maintained.

The abrupt silence that followed her aborted laughter was almost tangible. As I realized the implications, my grip faltered, and the bar nearly crashed onto my chest. I narrowly shifted it away, still wincing at the pain.

"For fuck's sake," I grunted, letting the bar thud onto the padded floor. "Seriously? I'm practically an infant compared to you. Plus, didn't you have a thing for my dad? That's just--"

So what?

Her defensive tone sliced through my thoughts.

There aren't many beings my age who are free, especially in our unique situation. And yes, I held affection and respect for your father, but nothing romantic ever materialized from him. He understood my feelings; perhaps that's why he entrusted me to watch over you since childhood.

See!

I lashed out as I massaged my aching chest, already feeling the bruise forming.

That's exactly my point. How can you profess love for me when you've watched over me since I was an infant? That's unsettling, no matter how you frame it.

I sensed her marshaling her thoughts, bracing for her attempt at justification. Meeting at that Western-themed tavern, if that would have been our first ever meeting, would have been one thing, but she'd been entwined with my family even before I was born. It reeked of predatory behavior, regardless of my current adulthood.

When she finally responded, it wasn't in any way that I expected.

The world around me vanished, only to be replaced by scene after scene from my past. Against my will, I witnessed from her perspective events that I'd mostly forgotten--or wished to forget--but apparently meant something to her. Including one of my worst memories.

We were at an elementary school, and an older kid walked up to one of my friends with an ugly expression on his face.

"No..." I moaned, shaking my head and trying to turn off the vision. However, even after closing my eyes, the scene still played out.

"Hey, don't be like that!" the older boy called out. "I thought we were having fun!"

"I don't want to see this again!" I shouted, but nothing changed. It wasn't exactly as I remembered it, but from an outsider's perspective. I started to hum in an attempt to block out what was being said, but Charlotte somehow managed to stop me from making any noise.

"Leave me alone, Randall," said the young girl. She was a year older than me at the time, though she never treated me like a child. Even in the fourth grade, she carried herself with dignity and aplomb as she tossed her red hair back over her shoulder. "I already told you I don't want to be your girlfriend. I'm not interested in boys. Everyone knows they have cooties."

Randall was a fifth-grader, though he looked like he should have been in late middle school. "Oh, come on," Randall complained, chasing after the girl. I couldn't even remember her name. "It was just a little kiss. I'm sure you'd enjoy it if we kept doing it. My bother says it's lots of fun when he does it."

"Then go kiss him!" the girl snapped and pushed Randall's hand away when he tried to grab her arm.

"Listen here, you--" Randall tried again to grab her, but someone else butted in.

"Leave her alone," child me declared with a shaky bravado. My unwilling eyes watched as my younger self squared off against a boy who easily outweighed me by double.

"What are you going to do about it?" Randall sneered, shoving me back. He scanned me from head to toe, a mocking sneer twisting his lips as he noted my worn clothes, uneven haircut, and small stature. "Got a crush on her, do ya?"

"Bobby, don't get involved," the girl pleaded, her voice laced with concern.

"Stay out of this, Becca," Randall's laughter was sinister, his gaze never wavering from mine.

Her name sent a sharp jolt through my heart, stirring a forgotten ache. I didn't recall her trying to intervene for me, but the following sequence of events remained crystal clear in my memory as Randall continued his taunt.

"A little runt like you? What makes you think that slut would ever look twice at a poor piece of trash--" His taunt was abruptly silenced as my fist connected squarely with the side of his jaw. Observing now, with my current knowledge of martial arts, I realized it was a fortunate strike. I'd hit a nerve just right, knocking him out cold with a single blow.

I remember the surge of fury that compelled me to act swiftly. I didn't even realize I'd already won as Randall crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Driven by rage, I leaped onto him, unleashing my anger with every punch. By the time an adult intervened and dragged me away, I'd broken his nose, both arms, and a leg.

The scene gradually dissolved, but not before revealing Becca bent over Randall, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Why did you show me that?" I demanded, my voice raw with emotion.

"I wasn't there when your father received the call from your school," Charlotte's voice enveloped me. "Nor could I be there when you confronted the principal. But I wanted you to see your own bravery, even back then. You stood up for your friend against that bully."

"I struck him because he called me poor," I retorted sharply, "not out of some noble intent to protect her."

"That's nonsense, and deep down, you know it," Charlotte countered. "Your fist was flying the moment he insulted Becca, and before he spit out the barb against you. Even as a child, you possessed a chivalrous spirit, and fought for her honor."

"A lot of good that did me," I muttered bitterly. "My father ensured I couldn't sit for a week after he finished with me. He never missed a chance to remind me of my 'disappointment' and the cost of those martial arts lessons he paid for, so I'd 'learn to control my anger.'"

The darkness around me fell into a heavy silence. Then Charlotte's voice, softer, inquired, "Is that really how it happened?"

"What...?" I stammered, taken aback by her question. Memories of my father's harsh words flooded back, his constant berating for what I'd done to that 'poor boy.'

Of course, that's how it happened!

I thought, indignant.

"You realize I can access your memories," she reminded me. "He didn't beat you, as you claim. It was a single, swift punishment. Yes, he treated you terribly, but perhaps it's time you viewed another memory."

"No! I don't want to--" My protest was abruptly cut off, my voice silenced mid-sentence, as the world around me brightened once again.

Suddenly, I was in my mom's house, facing younger versions of my parents and a different iteration of Charlotte. The succubus bowed her head under my father's stern gaze while my mother sat on the well-worn couch, her face etched with concern as she watched the exchange. Charlotte's appearance was strikingly different--short, bleach-blonde hair, heavy mascara and eyeshadow, a pierced nose. Despite her altered facial features, there was an unsettling resemblance to my mother. Even in her subdued state, Charlotte's allure was undeniable. I knew it was her only because these were her memories, and the three of them were the only ones present.

"You're supposed to watch over him, to keep him out of trouble!" My father's voice was a furious growl.

Charlotte's shoulders drooped further as she spoke in a meek voice, "He was on school grounds. I couldn't step in without causing the issues you've always warned against."

"Why not disguise yourself as a child?" My mother's voice dripped with disdain. "Surely, you could've protected our son that way."

Shaking her head, Charlotte replied, "It all happened too quickly, and I'm bound by certain laws. If I assume a child's form for any reason other than to save my life or another's, the Pillar of Fire would incinerate me. She abhors pedophiles, and as the queen of the succubae, her laws are absolute." Taking a deep breath, Charlotte locked eyes with my father. "Bobby was trying to defend a girl. The other boy had inappropriate intentions, and despite the differences in age and size, Bobby stood up for her."

"Then why did the school claim he reacted to being teased about being poor?" Susan interjected sharply. "What lies are you spinning now, whore?"

"Susan, enough!" Bernard's command allowed no rebuttal. Something in his demeanor spoke of long experience mediating between the two women.

Charlotte maintained her defense as she faced my mother. "I've never lied to your husband. I've been transparent with him, as he has with me. Have I tried to seduce him? Absolutely. But does that mean I stand a chance? Not against the love and devotion he has for you and your son. While I disagree with your plan to steer him away from the Knights, know this--I will

always

support him, and by extension, you."

"Jules, I know what you're attempting, and it needs to stop," Bernard's voice was laden with weariness as he confronted the diminutive demoness. I was momentarily confused about who Jules was until I remembered that Charlotte used to go by that name. "Susan is well aware of my dedication to her. Now, tell us, why did the school provide a different story?"

At that moment, confusion clouded my thoughts. I'd sensed some friction between my mom and Charlotte when she discovered our shared existence, but never to this level of hostility. And if Charlotte was to be believed, weren't my parents covert allies of the magical creatures, working against the Knights from within? Why, then, was there such palpable antagonism toward Charlotte?

"The girl he stood up for sided with the bully afterward," Charlotte revealed, answering their question. "She may well reap the consequences of her misplaced sympathy, but after witnessing your son's actions, she felt pity for the boy he manhandled."

"I couldn't care less about the girl," Susan interjected sharply. "Your personal insights are unnecessary. You had one responsibility and failed us today, you

whore

."

"Susan!" Bernard's voice thundered, his face darkening with anger. "Enough. If you can't maintain civility, retreat to our room, and I'll handle you later. And don't think for a second that I'm oblivious to your desires for punishment. You'll receive it, but be warned, it'll be severe."

My instinct was to bristle at my father's harsh words, but the glimmer of anticipation in my mother's eyes turned my stomach. She had admitted to her masochistic tendencies, but witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely.

Bernard continued, seemingly unfazed by Susan's fluttering breaths and flushed complexion. "I despise treating Bobby like this, but it's a necessary evil. He hates me, which tears me apart, but it's preferable to him glorifying the Knights like so many other Knight's sons. And you know I can't reveal too much to him. He's too young to understand, and we're constantly being monitored. One slip up from him, and we're all dead."

"It's not too late to flee," Charlotte implored a note of desperation in her voice. "You've always refused, but I can protect you. The Knights will never find us in the other realm. You can live freely, Bernard. Raise Bobby to love you as you deserve. He needs to know the truth about his father."

"Is that your idea of protection? Run away? Hide?" Susan snapped, her tone biting. "And stop trying to lure my husband away,

seductress

. He's beyond your reach; deep down, you know it."

Charlotte's gaze shifted to my mother, her eyes brimming with a sadness so profound it nearly broke her. I thought she would break Susan's heart. A heart was broken, but it wasn't the one I expected.

"Susan, I have vowed upon my very soul to protect and serve your family with fidelity and truth," Charlotte's voice was steady, yet a tremor of emotion betrayed her. "While my presence seldom crosses his mind, when it does, he regards me with the distant concern one might have for a colleague. But you, Susan," she paused, pain evident in her voice, "when you occupy his thoughts, it's with a fervor, love, and intensity that I yearn for but will never experience. Your image haunts his mind far more than mine ever could."

"And what makes you think you're entitled to his--" Susan's words were laced with venom, but they were abruptly stifled as Bernard's hand gripped her throat.

"I instructed you to cease that behavior, my dear," Bernard's voice was a low growl as he effortlessly lifted my mother by her neck. The sight of him handling my mom that way, juxtaposed with her seemingly eager reaction, was disconcerting. "Jules dedicates herself to this family's welfare and future. You know she poses no threat to your place in my heart. Show her the respect she's earned, or tonight, I'll punish you with tenderness and affection instead of the harshness you crave."

Susan's eyes widened in alarm at the prospect, and she attempted a nod before Bernard released her, sending her tumbling back onto the couch.

Susan cleared her throat, gearing up to speak, but Charlotte cut her off with a pained grimace. "Don't bother. I'm well aware of the hollowness behind your words. Besides, your son is outside, mustering the courage to confront you. I'll take my leave through the rear exit."

The world dimmed once more, leaving me in a stunned silence. This revelation of my parents' true nature contradicted everything I believed about them. A caring and protective father? A vindictive and harsh mother? It upended my entire understanding of them.

"How much of that was a fabrication, influenced by your own biases?" I eventually asked into the void.

"I understand your skepticism," Charlotte's voice drifted back, ethereal yet firm. "But with my perfect recall, I assure you, that is precisely how it transpired."

"Don't lie to me!" Anger surged within me, bubbling to the surface. "I understand how memories work. Each recollection alters them slightly. You loved my father and resented my mother because she had what you desired. It's obvious your prejudice tainted that memory."

"If I were a normal human, I'd agree with you," Charlotte somehow remained calm in the face of my accusations. "But I'm not. And you still don't know everything. Shall I show you the memory of the night your mother got drunk on New Year's, and we fucked in every way two women and a bunch of toys can? Your father sat in a corner and watched the whole thing. Even then, he refused to touch me, but I can attest that Susan knows how to use her tongue. She even used a double-headed strap-on to bring me to multiple--"