Drained: The Lucid (21 page)

Riley hazarded a glance in Morgan’s direction. She had her eyes closed and was smiling into the sun. She looked so free, so light. There was no way Riley could ever tell her that the incubus who had tormented her years ago was someone with whom Riley was intimately familiar. The bright sunshine caused her youthful features to practically glow; her long brunette hair, typically pulled back in a braid, fell in loose locks around her face and radiated warm, golden hues. She required no makeup; her long eyelashes were dramatic even without the aid of mascara or eyeliner. She was beautiful, Riley decided.

An uncomfortable knot settled into Riley’s stomach, but she remained still and willed her body to relax. Her eyes caught a flutter off to the side. A butterfly rode on a current of wind, darting in one direction and then the next. Its golden-orange and black wings flapped erratically as another stiff wind shot it up in the air where it was joined by another butterfly, this one black with pale yellow markings. The air stilled momentarily, allowing the winged creatures to land on Riley’s knee. She remained rigidly still so as to not disturb their movements.

“I think you made new friends,” Morgan remarked.

Riley had nearly forgotten the other woman’s presence, her focus so much on the twin flight of the butterflies. She slowly reached for the delicate thing closest to her hand, careful not to touch its fragile wings. But before she could coax the small-legged creature to crawl onto her finger, both sets of decorated wings took flight again, and joined what appeared to be a kaleidoscope of colors as a flight of butterflies streaked across the clear blue sky.

Beside her, she could hear Morgan’s intake of air. “It’s like a daytime firework.”

When Riley reached for the other woman’s hand, Morgan accepted it. Their fingers intertwined as they together watched the swarm of butterflies scatter above them.

Riley didn’t know when her eyes had fallen shut, but she could feel the weight of the body beside her press closer. The hammock didn’t afford them the space to be too far apart; weighted bodies dipped down the center if either wanted to be closer than sitting at opposite ends.

The familiar wail of Riley’s watch broke their silence.

“Do you really have to go?” Morgan sighed against Riley’s shoulder. Riley couldn’t help but notice that their hands were still interlocked as they laid side-by-side.

“Would you rather I stay longer?” Riley asked with sudden anxiety. She hadn’t thought about the other woman ever
wanting
her presence.

“Yeah.” Morgan’s voice was nearly lost against Riley’s bare shoulder. The warmth of the breath drew a shiver from the succubus.

“Then that’s all I needed to hear,” Riley spoke without looking at her hammock-mate. “Soon then.” She squeezed Morgan’s hand with purpose. “I promise.”

If Riley were to keep her word, she’d have to research energy extraction and do it fast. Without feeding from Morgan, her watch would continue to flash her from the dream at the hour mark. And without her watch, there was no way to access Morgan’s dreams. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have made that promise—to stay longer than the allotted time—but if it made Morgan smile, then it was a hopeful reassurance that sunny days were there permanently.

Riley thought over her options and decided that the archives would be an appropriate starting point. For hours at a time, she combed through dusty boxes, none of which contained the information that she needed. Old dates of social meetings and mixers served as little use. There was a small column that acknowledged the black market energy and warned everyone to be leery of the unregulated products. But aside from the warning of the bottled substance, there wasn’t anything else. It had almost been tempting to directly ask Liliah about the knowledge; the older succubus would know. Although informative, Liliah was still a fellow employee and could report on Riley’s specific curiosity.

After a few days of unfruitful research, Riley headed into the office to find Josh. She was growing desperate to find answers and he would be her safest bet. Each day she went without visiting Morgan in the realm felt like a broken promise.

When she made her way past front desk security and headed to the stairs, she was met by a large sign that said the stairs were closed for maintenance. The only option left was the elevator lobby.

She pressed the up button and tried to banish the rising anxiety as she watched the illuminated sign above the elevator door. As the car descended, the desire to run became stronger. She took deep, calming breaths and reminded herself that this was for Morgan. For Morgan, she could face her fear.

The elevator doors opened innocently enough and she stepped inside. She pressed the button for Josh’s floor and tried not to think about being crushed inside of a tiny box as the doors began to close.

“Hold the elevator!” a voice yelled out.

Riley threw her arm between the shutting doors. Brice, the company’s head psychologist, joined her in the elevator. He was also the director of the LA branch’s support groups; “sex addiction,” “substance and gambling addiction,” and “monogamy,” were a few of the more popular ones.

“Thanks, Riley,” he said slightly out of breath.

“No problem.”

With another person inside the elevator, Riley was sure she would run out of oxygen. But to save face, especially in front of a therapist, she did her best to appear unaffected. Throughout her time in the LA branch, Riley hadn’t interacted with Brice much more than a dozen times. When she had, they were the mandatory meetings for when an employee transferred into a new branch. That was years ago. But they were on friendly enough terms to make small talk and call each other by first names.

Brice made his departure on the thirteenth floor and bid Riley a farewell. “You should stop by my office if you ever need to talk, Riley,” he said, holding up the elevator. “Being at the top of your game can be a stressful thing, and you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

She quirked the corners of her mouth at what seemed to be a sincere offer and waved a goodbye. Riley had no intention of ever sitting across from Brice if she could help it. She was fine without someone prodding at the walls of her mind.

When she stepped off on the sixteenth floor, Riley was met with its usual serenity. There was the clanking of keyboards, but overall, it was calm and quiet. She walked over to where Josh’s cubicle had been for the past year. Instead of being greeted by her friend, a woman sat at his desk typing at her keyboard at what seemed to be well over one hundred words a minute. She was mechanical in her expression, as if she had spent one night too many staring at her computer screen. 

Riley cleared her throat to catch the woman’s attention. When the typer stopped her tapping, she looked over at her visitor, mildly annoyed.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but where’s Josh?”

The designer rolled her eyes. Riley bristled at the reaction. As a C.S. Account Executive, Riley had a tenuous relationship with some of Trusics’s day-to-day operational employees. She knew some workers resented active agents like herself, falsely believing that they were little more than shallow, vapid immortals. Some of it was unwarranted jealousy, but Riley also knew that several Account Executives had rightly earned that stereotype.

“He moved into the far back office.” Both her words and eyes were dead.

“Thank you,” Riley acknowledged with a bob of her head.

When Riley found Josh’s new office, she propped herself against his open door frame. Her friend was too busy staring at the computer to notice her presence. She smiled at his deep frown of concentration and gave a low whistle. The piercing sound caught his attention.

“Riley,” he greeted. “What are you doing here?” Not waiting for an answer, he waved for her enter. “Come on in. And if you don’t mind, could you close the door?”

Riley shut the door behind her and settled into a chair on the opposite side of Josh’s cluttered desk. The modest space spoke volumes to Josh’s personality. If she had seen this office earlier, she would have never had to ask that female employee for directions. Small superhero figurines lined the outer perimeter of his desk and old posters of cult horror films decorated the painted walls. Near his mouse sat a mug in the shape of a zombie’s head with the top missing for the rim. His bookshelf was filled with publications on code, design, and the new addition of management techniques. Riley could also identify two books she knew were hollowed out; hidden inside would be a stack of comics for the more stressful moments at work. The comics were the only printed form of reading material Josh ever bought—that and rare collector editions of books he supported.

Josh’s attention had returned to a ding that sounded from his computer. He typed with side glances, not wanting to completely ignore his friend. With one final click, he spun his chair around to face her. His hands steepled and his face turned serious for a split second.  

“So, what brings you into my secret lair, young maiden?”

Riley always found amusement in his attempts at a somber expression. “I need your help finding something.” She grabbed a stress ball from his desk and threw it at him. His arms reflectively shot up to shield himself.  

“You don’t have to beat me up to get help.” He chuckled when the foam ball bounced off his arm.

Riley opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it before words had formed.

Watching his friend with curiosity, Josh arched his unruly eyebrows and spun his chair back towards his computer. He wove his fingers together and cracked them. “Let’s see what I can do. New video game release, rare collectable toys, or perhaps it’s a limited edition of the comic series that you were addicted to in the sixties?”

She blurted out her words. “I need to learn how to extract energy.” There was hesitation before she finished: “From myself.”

For a moment, Riley regretted confiding in her friend. There was an eerie silence between them, a strange occurrence in their few years of friendship. Josh was like a brother, playing the role of both the protective older sibling and also the carefree child she could be silly around. Serious conversations were not a part of their friendship.

The silence was killing her. But before Riley could speak, Josh pulled out his phone and began to type at a maddening pace. Not wanting to interrupt, she stayed quiet.

After her time at the archives, she had exhausted her personal list of independent contacts—people she’d befriended throughout her decades of being a succubus. Their reactions were almost universal; most were silent as if she were recording them. After repeated reassurance, some had opened up, but no one seemed knowledgeable on the subject aside from some reluctant admittance to using bottled energy in the past. Riley suspected a few had withheld information even if they had more to offer. It was well known that Trusics was particularly territorial, and bottled energy was a conflict of interest. Still, there were unassociated cubare and companies, like Clay & Dunbar, who thumbed their collective noses at any jurisdiction Trusics might claim.

After a few more taps, Josh looked up from his screen. “Done.”

He grinned in victory at his own accomplishment. When Riley didn’t return his enthusiasm he was quick to confirm what she had asked of him. “You did say you wanted to learn about energy extraction, right? Tell me I didn’t spend two hundred bucks on a book for the wrong thing.”

“I—” She was astonished by her friend’s abilities, but also his nonchalant attitude about what they both knew was a topic their shared employer kept shrouded in mystery. “How did you do that so fast?”

“Ah, the wonders of an open marketplace at the tip of our fingers.” He laughed, amused by Riley’s stunned reaction. “It’s exactly the same process as buying shoes online, only it’s in lesser-known stores.”

“You are amazing.” Riley got up to high-five her friend. “Thank you. You honestly don’t know what this means to me,” she gushed in gratitude. “I’ll pay you back once I stop by the bank.”

His normally friendly face dropped at the mention of payment. “You don’t have to do that,” he mumbled.

Riley’s grin turned devilish. “If you don’t want my money, I guess I’ll have to buy you two hundred dollars’ worth of lap dances.”

Josh’s jaw dropped. “I’ll take the money.”

• • •

It took no more than a day for the book to arrive at Riley’s door. She had to admit that modern technology was impressive. She held the shipping box with a kind of reverence. For such a simple container, it potentially held a wealth of information that, until the other day, Riley had thought was no more than a myth, a key to opening a power that was unknown to her.

On the top of the box was the store’s logo stamped over both the flaps and packing tape. The words
The Rabbit Hole - A Wellness & Antiquity Shop
were curved, and beneath the lettering was a simple drawing of a rabbit with its top half hidden below a hole in the ground. Its furry tail and the ends of its coat were front and center.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, she was careful to split the blades and use one side to slice the tape. Inside the box was a neatly packaged book with a note attached:

Thank you for supporting our small store! We hope to do business with you in the near future. Please recycle this box and this message.

Disclaimer: This order may contain material that should be kept away from children and pets. If you have bought a book from us, please be aware that these are rare books that are compilations of opinions, myths, and facts, or are purely fiction. Proceed with caution.

All organic products are nonrefundable once used. We also cannot guarantee anything other than the quality of the product and not what you choose to do with them. Have a wonderful day!

She slipped the note into the inside cover of the heavy book before walking over to the coffeemaker to refill her cup. Liquid power was needed if she planned to settle down with her new reading material. The book was slightly deceptive in size as it included seven different translated languages compiled together. Thankfully it included an English translation; the thought that it could have been in an ancient language had crossed her mind after Josh had made the order. But she hadn’t mentioned that to him.