Episode Twenty-Five: Senator: Scene 22

The succubus faced me for quite a long time. “Trickster’s daughter.”

I nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

“But you’re not a trickster. You’re…hrm.” She tilted her head to one side. “Not quite settled yet.”

My lips quirked. “Jealous?”

She looked at me, then down.

A succubus was jealous of me. Maybe she didn’t like being what she was. Was there any way out for her, or was her nature set? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know.

I wasn’t going to ask. I shrugged again. “I can’t help you.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but the you came out anyway.

“Nobody can. Consider that when you walk with angels.” And she turned and stalked away.

Nobody can.

Maybe nobody but her. The implication that angels were assholes was, of course, pretty solid. And angels probably were assholes. On the other hand…

Maybe she was right. I should stay out of the entire thing. But I liked Father Will, and Tyz’vel had firmly convinced me that angels were assholes, but demons were far worse.

“You should have banished her.”


“Not worth it,” I said automatically.

“I suppose you have enough to worry about without caring about minor succubi.”

“I have fire giants to worry about.” I was starting to think I’d never get home. “And sorry, but you’re the third person to get between me and home, bed, and my girlfriend.”

“Then I’ll let you go.” He glanced after the succubus.

“Is there any escape for them?”

“Of course there is. The problem is it involves them admitting they were wrong…and that’s not an easy thing for us to do.”

That was a lot of honesty. Perhaps because he couldn’t touch my soul, or what passed for my soul. “He should have made you less stiff-necked.”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Perhaps he should.”

“But we become set, we become things which don’t change.”

“That’s why so many gods…and demons…are drawn to mortals.”

“And you like Father Will.”

“I appreciate his company.” Again, the corners of the mouth. “I would not want him as a lover, but…”

“But he’s good to have as a friend.”

I felt better about things. Did people, I thought, always keep themselves in Hell, literal or metaphorical?

Not always, but often.

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