Succubus Tear (Triune promise) (38 page)

“Sorry,” Charlie said with black sarcasm. “I didn’t know you’d have this all sorted out before then. What do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?” He shrugged as he continued. “You were really quick to reject Walter’s offer back then, so what does it matter?”

Cain took a deep breath in, ready to shout, but stopped. Charlie knew they were both at the line they both had never crossed before. Words would be spoken tonight that would not, could not, be taken back if they were not careful.

“Look, Cain-sama,” Charlie said. “You’re my friend, you’re my brother. But we all have choices to make in our lives. For ten years I have been by your side through thick and thin, hell and heaven. We’ve had our moments, and never once did I bemoan that you were not going anywhere. Never once did I blame you in my heart as the reason that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“I know,” Cain said. “But—”

“No! Listen to me, man.” Charlie sighed and shook his head.
How did Al’bah know? God, what the hell is she?

“Al’bah is the girl.”

He stared for a long time into Cain’s uncomprehending eyes. “Al’bah is the girl, and we have so much history, I think it would be best if we don’t talk to each other for a while.”

“What?”

Charlie shook his head again, quickly speaking the words that felt like a death sentence as much as it did a pardon. “I’m saying, I don’t want to be friends anymore. At least not like this. You need to give Al’bah a chance, you need to give yourself a chance.”

“You’re shitting me, man? Where the fuck did this come from?”

“Look, Cain-sama!” Charlie said, narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth. “This isn’t easy for me either! I had and lost what you have right now! And by some miracle, it seems like I got a second chance! Don’t you realize—”

“Realize shit, man! It’s not your fault that Holly decided to fly down the road to her own death!” Cain stood and walked away and kicked the wall of the alley. “It’s not your fault she—”

“Ryouyaku-wa kuchi-ni nigashi
,
Cain-sama.”
*

“
Ah, fuck you! That medicine is your guilt and we both know it! Why else do you think you wanna take Stella with you? Just who do you think you are making it up to, anyway?”

Taken Forcibly What Would Have Been Left Behind Willingly

“Don’t worry, uncle. I’m giving you as much of a chance to live as you gave me. Here, a nail file. Now don’t squirm too much, or it will fall at the bottom of the body bag. Have fun swimming! I know I didn’t!”

—Stella Fullson

Al’bah watched them leave and turned to Stella. “I think you should go. You would suit him well.”

“Of course you would say that—anything to get rid of me, right?” Stella said with an exaggerated motion that knocked her glass over, which Al’bah caught perfectly.

“Yes, I do want to get rid of you,” Al’bah said, setting the glass down. “But you and I both know that you have no desire to remain with us.” She sighed. “And if you return to the bodies of justice, there would be no absolution for you. All you would have would be pity and rejection, and live with the betrayal that makes you so livid.”

Al’bah looked to the front door. “I do not know why, Stella, but Charlie has taken to you in a very deep and fundamental way…I would even say it is love, but it has a longing, a desperation of sorts.”

“Peh! Like you and Cain?”

Al’bah felt the darker parts of her soul burn with murderous heat at that comment, but she denied the call for satisfaction. Stella had lost everything almost in the same manner as Cain had. And she could not deny she was right in her words.

“Stella.”

“What?”

“You are a woman, yes?”

“Obviously.”

“Then why do you behave as though it is undesirable to
be
a woman? To be beautiful? To open your heart to the love of the stronger vessel?”

Stella laughed. “For what? For me to be subservient like you are to Cain? To take on the Bondage and abuse that men bring? Sorry, honey, I don’t need an Asian guy. And if I do, that’s what Chinese food delivery is for.”

Al’bah knew Stella would no longer listen to reason. It was frustrating beyond words to know that Stella was just as fond of Charlie, but denied herself the possibility of so much joy! All for the sake of vanity! To not appear foolish before strangers!

Stella clasped her hands under her chin in a vicious parody. “Oooh, raspberry jam!”

“You mock me, intending to cause pain. But your heart cries. You hate what you have become, and are filled with pride over your foolishness and jealousy of my happiness,” Al’bah said flatly.

Stella’s mocking expression grew cold. “Me? Prideful? What about that self-righteous bastard you call your Bond? Jealousy? Pot meet kettle, you Demon freak.”

Al’bah narrowed her eyes. She had enough.
This vile sense of irrational pride has got to depart! Right with the bothersome harbor in which it resides.

“Oooh, getting mad, are we?”

This one has no idea; she knows what I am, and still has no idea.

“Look into my eyes.”
Well, she is about to find out.

Al’bah stared long and hard into Stella’s eyes. It was amazing! So much mental discipline existed within her mind. Her barriers were so strong that it was impossible to coax them to open. She felt her way around, looking for the slightest weakness. Stella’s eyes kept twitching, and Al’bah glanced at the table.

A spoon.

Al’bah held out the spoon before Stella’s eyes. They twitched between the spoon and something else.

Another spoon.

“Two spoonfuls and then I stop,” Al’bah murmured.

Horror!

Such horror came spilling from behind Stella’s barriers. It was astounding!

“No,” Al’bah whispered. “You are within my safety; I will not allow your horror to take you this time. Show me, Stella.”

“P-p-please, don’t,” Stella whimpered.

Al’bah gasped; Stella shouldn’t be able to speak or move! Oh, how it spoke of her strength! And how much of that strength served only to bury her most horrifying moments.

“Hickory dickory dock, two spoonfuls and then I stop.”

A memory flooded Al’bah’s awareness: Stella’s memory. She was twelve; she was on her bed and hugging her knees. Footsteps were approaching from the stairs.

“Hickory dickory dock, Silly Stella made a medicine swap.”

A savage force banged the door several times and it crashed to the floor, and Al’bah
saw
.

The thing was once a woman, but the skin of its face was peeled back. The woman stared with ice-blue eyes that matched Stella’s. “Are you okay, Stella? What did you take? What was in that bottle?”

The scene changed, and Stella was screaming as her mother held a gun to her father’s chest.

“Two spoonfuls, drink every drop.”

And again, this time Stella watched as her mother begged for her to tell the truth. The Demons would spare Stella upon her father’s death. The men in strange uniforms had wrapped her up in a straitjacket.

“To make the horror begin, and the horror stop.”

And again this time she was sitting with a well-dressed woman with a smug grin.

“You didn’t know that your mother and father were devil worshippers?”

“Hickory dickory dock.”

And at last, Al’bah knelt next to a seventeen-year-old Stella. She had fought her way out of a body bag; she was beaten almost to senselessness and tossed into the river by her uncle.

A supreme rush of vengeance filled her senses. Love had betrayed her; family had betrayed her. The people who said they were going to make life better for Stella betrayed her. Her remaining family blamed her for deaths that weren’t her fault. But worse! They made her believe it!

Stella was alone; there was no one to return to—no home, and no family. She had nothing; she barely had clothes on her back.

Stella screamed with her fist raised in the sky, a primal rage that went on and on. Her cry miraculously stretched beyond the spaces, into the non-spaces. Her vengeance and sense of justice filled the grievous wounds in her soul and took root. She would be a harbinger of justice then vengeance, and as her mind continued to lose itself, she would—

“No,” Al’bah whispered. “This must not come to pass.” Al’bah halted the visions; it was enough.
She thought hard on what the removal of all her dark influences would have on Stella. She wondered if she had the right.

Stella slowly moved her hand forward and grasped Al’bah’s hand. “Please,” she whispered.

She is not completely aware of what she asks of me,
Al’bah thought softly.
And yet would it not be the greatest justice of all? For her to be able to forgive? To allow her soul to heal?
 

***

Al’bah delved back into Stella’s identity, now seeing it as a blank room filled with multiple versions of Stella. They all milled about; some chatted with other versions. Others lay comatose. Some even sprinted from one end of the room to the other, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Flower, come here,” Al’bah cooed.

At once, all the Stellas stopped and turned to Al’bah. They started pointing and screamed at her to leave. A few made threatening gestures, but Al’bah knew they could not hurt her. Only one version of Stella had that power, and she was not here. Not yet.

A frightened child padded forward, dressed in a sleeper complete with footies, holding a teddy bear. “Shudda be here,” she said, not looking at her.

“Flower, please. Where is Hubris?”

The little girl’s blue eye became wide and frightened. “No, mean lady who locks away others! She mean. You nice.”

Al’bah smiled. “I will be careful, it is time for Hubris to play nice.”

“Promise?”

Al’bah nodded. “Promise.”

“Who are you?”

The entire room erupted into screams, and every version of Stella, except the comatose versions, rushed to the walls, cowering before a negative silhouette with burning yellow eyes.

Al’bah turned and reached out with her power. “Hubris. It is time to surrender yourself. Stella holds allegiance to the Creator, and you are unworthy of pride. Submit!”

“You! You are the one who caused my downfall. You think I will surrender to you, or anyone? I will visit death upon all who crossed me! I will—”

“No, you will not.”

“You think you can command me here? I AM Stella! I am not Flower, I am not officer, or Detective Fullson! I AM!”

“You are pride, you are sin! And you will lose!” Al’bah said and moved her open hand to the Stellas lying upon the floor. “Surrender your tears, the Creator loves you. Release your sorrow, the Creator hears your cries. You are loved. Above all, you are loved.” Over and over, Al’bah repeated her statement. And at first, nothing happened, but one by one the comatose Stellas began to weep and then cry out.

Their pain flowed upon Al’bah’s awareness. It pressed down upon her, light in comparison to her tortures under Taint, but it cut just as deep.

“You will not take away what I am! I AM! I AM!”

Al’bah shook her head. “There is only one ‘I AM,’ and you are not.”

The shadow shrieked and rushed forward, closing its hands upon Al’bah’s neck, and began to squeeze. “No! My suffering made me strong! You will not take it from me!”

Al’bah could no longer speak or breathe. She reached out and caressed the shadow with her hand and spiritual voice.

No! You are not strong from your torments; you take pride in them, and believe it is strength.

The shadow screamed again and grew weak. Its hands fell to its sides as a new wave of anguish washed over Al’bah. “Flower! I need your help!” Al’bah cried out.

The child padded close, smiling, no longer afraid. “Nice lady,” she said happily.

“Flower, please. I need you to pray. Ask the Creator to take the pain away.”