Read Succubus Tear (Triune promise) Online
Authors: Andreas Wiesemann
“Hypocrite! You have no rights in this matter!” Taint hissed.
“Purity? What are you—” Cain fell upon the ground; a large cut upon his chest and stomach poured blood onto the ground, reminding him of the red-black slime that entrapped him the first time he visited here.
Purity held up his blade; he moved so quickly that it didn’t even have a drop of blood on it. “You are a
human,
Cain! You are not a monster! What are you doing to yourself?” He walked to Al’bah’s still form. “Cain’s Al’bah, stand.”
“State your right for interfering,” Law stated as Purity helped Al’bah to her feet.
“Indeed, you have no right here. And, you are too late. It has accepted my boon,” Taint leered.
Purity leveled his blade to Taint, and a dazzling white fire erupted along its length and surrounded Purity.
“I have every right! I am his protector and your opponent!” Purity turned to Law. “I claim Cain’s currency! I claim his health! I claim the boon that Taint wishes to bestow upon Cain and his Al’bah. By the virtue of how he places these things above his Al’bah, his everything, I take these things from him.”
“What?” Cain coughed from the ground. “You can’t—”
“And I transfer the demand of silence to this human!”
“Cain!” Al’bah cried and rushed over to him. She placed her hands over his cut, but it didn’t close. She turned her head to Purity. “Please, do not let him suffer with this injury.”
Purity shook his head in disbelief. “After what he has done? After what he was about to do?”
Al’bah stood, rubbing her arms and keeping her eyes averted. “Angel, you know humans have no firsthand insight to the world you and I know. Temptation falls so easily upon them; I bear no ill will to Cain.”
Purity walked over to a bewildered yet glaring Cain. “The pain you feel is only the beginning if you dare to stand up.” He let go of his sword that continued to burn as it floated over him.
“Thank you,” Al’bah whispered, noticing the wound was closed, but a harsh scar remained.
Law picked up his quill. “Purity’s claim is legitimate. Taint, you will bestow Purity the boon you reserved for Cain and his Al’bah.”
Taint handed the scroll to Purity. “You fool. Both of them are likely to die.”
“Better than damnation.”
“It is not saved. Would the result not be the same?”
The air of absolute righteousness in Purity faltered, as did his glare. “Though I have forgotten my place before, I will never underestimate humanity again.”
Taint laughed. “You did always act before thinking, and now you speak before you think. What was that display you just performed before us all? Proof! You have not changed.”
***
Three Weeks Later…
Cain and Al’bah had been trekking south for some time now. For some reason the authorities just missed them at the hotel, and now all the roads into Mexico were too dangerous for them to travel by car.
He had thought the desert of the southwest would be hot, which was true enough for the summer. But at such high altitudes in the dead of winter, the temperature kept them both cold every single day, and half frozen every single night. Even their small tent and sleeping bag were useless; the air was too cold and too dry.
Even being wrapped in Al’bah’s wings did not help. Al’bah was more resilient to the cold, and her body temperature would often drop much lower than Cain’s. She tried again and again to heal his illness, but some spiritual force prevented her from doing so.
By the second week, Cain’s breathing had become wet and labored, and the excellent time they had been making slowed to a crawl, as Cain always needed to catch his breath.
And now this night was even worse; Al’bah was awake, staring at Cain. His nightmares were too far away for her to follow. She ran her hands under his shirt to feel the mysterious scar that had formed over his chest and abdomen.
Cain was furious over the scar, especially since he had no memory of how it got there, though he said he believed her when she told him she had nothing to do with it. It was a small comfort; Al’bah knew he held blame in his heart toward her.
The worst part was that she could not heal it. That would mean it was made by a spiritual attack. Al’bah was thankful beyond words that Cain did not ask the correct questions that would have allowed him to know that detail.
He coughed again in his dreams that horrible, wet, sick cough. “No,” Al’bah moaned. “He must wake now.” She started to shake him.
“Al’bah? I can’t…” Cain wheezed; he sounded as though he was drowning.
Al’bah looked desperately around the ground near their camp, but nothing was in sight that she could effectively burn. She grabbed the duffel that Cain had saved all his money in; it contained a grand total of over two hundred thousand dollars from over ten years of working—money that Cain would never let Al’bah burn.
What use will this be if he dies!
Al’bah dragged Cain out of the tent and extended her wings to enclose a space except a small opening at the very top. She gathered the money and a
ll the clothes they had, even the packs in a small pile in the center.
Concentrating for a few moments, Al’bah slowly brought her lips to the pile and exhaled slowly. A brilliant purple flame torched the rest of their belongings, and it quickly turned orange and yellow. The effect was immediate, and the air was quickly warmed by the small but powerful fire. There was even enough spiritual energy for her to raise her body temperature to levels that would kill a normal human. Al’bah sat Cain up and got a metal cup on the fire, and waited desperately to see if it would boil.
Cain made a gurgling noise from deep within his chest and tried to sit up more but couldn’t.
The morning will come! The morning will come!
Al’bah desperately repeated in her mind, putting all her will into that mad chant. She looked up into the small hole she allowed at the top of her wings letting the smoke out, looking to the stars.
Please! Please! I know I have no right to raise my thoughts to you! I know I am one of the punished! But please save him! Let me have one more day with him! I beg you!
The water began to steam and boil in the metal cup, and Al’bah quickly placed it in her boot and under Cain’s nose and mouth. Al’bah focused with all her might and used her power to force the steam to break apart the slime that was choking her Bond to death, without cooking his lungs.
The steam quickly started to work, and before long Cain was able to expel thick, ropey strands of brown-yellow mucus. He was just about to inhale his first deep breath in days when Al’bah squeezed him with both arms and legs as hard as she could.
“Not too deep, Cain! You will lose any ground you have gained!”
With her assistance and with the steam, Cain was able to control his breathing and at last caught his breath. Just before he nodded to sleep, Al’bah heard the beginnings of his lungs starting to fill again. Despair gripped her heart; the fire had died out, and the water too cold to produce steam.
Oh please! Oh please…I love him…
***
“It’s all gone?” Cain said with a tired resignation.
Al’bah nodded. “I had to do something, Cain; you would have been dead by now.”
Cain smiled, but it was a horrifying smile. His eyes were completely distant and looked insane. “Let’s keep walking. I am sure we will make it.”
Al’bah nodded, feeling a horrible doom fall upon her and her Bond. “Cain, it is this way,” Al’bah murmured as he started to stumble off in the opposite direction.
That day’s walk was more torturous than ever. Cain was running a high fever and was starting to slip into the mad embrace of delirium. At times he fell over, and it took everything Al’bah had to make him come to his senses and continue. Sometimes he walked; sometimes he crawled. He often stopped and spoke to people that weren’t there. At times he couldn’t recognize Al’bah at all, and plodded along as if he couldn’t see her. Eventually the sun slowly began to sink to their right, taking all hope with it. Eighteen miles shy of their destination.
Cain fell yet again and Al’bah went to him crying, accepting defeat this time and cradling his head upon her lap. She did not even noticing a jeep that was not more than fifty yards from them come to a halt within touching distance.
“I have seen much between the lands that were conquered and the lands that were stolen from the conquerors,” a voice said, startling Al’bah to her feet. “But I don’t think I have ever seen two hikers more unequipped and unprepared as you two.”
Before them was a man that was probably in his mid-thirties. He looked to be Asian, or perhaps half Asian? He was tall, with a small but athletic frame that spoke of a strength that was sinewy but powerful all the same. He wore a simple cross around his neck, made of a beautiful wood, and a simplistic jeans-and-T-shirt getup.
“You okay?” he said, starting to walk toward them, a worried expression on his face.
“No! Please! Help him! He is dying!” Al’bah said, trying to get Cain to stand up.
“By all means,” the man said. “My name is Amidres’ Wells, at your service.”
After struggling to get Cain into the passenger seat and collapsing in the back, Al’bah started to fall asleep; her last thoughts were a disjointed dialogue of her telling herself that no matter what this new development would come to, it was better than watching Cain die.
The Wellses
“My love thinks I have betrayed him enough. I will not speak more.”
—Al’bah
“It burns! Oh God! It burns!” Cain screamed as he thrashed around.
Al’bah raised her face off her hands to glance at Cain. After a few moments of watching her Bond thrash around, she settled her face back into her palms.
She had to.
It was much less painful to not have to watch his agony. To not have to see him tied to a chair by his torso to keep from drowning in the vile slime within his chest.
Al’bah sighed; she was so tired, so exhausted. Her reserves of spiritual energy were running low. Ever since she and Cain had arrived to the house of Amidres’ and Serenna Wells, she had to constantly use her spiritual energy to keep Cain’s soul rooted to his physical body. It was a harsh and intense tug-of-war between her and the legions of hell that were so bent on claiming his soul.
At least this time, the shadows could not enter a house whose owners’ allegiance was to the Creator.
Before, on the desert, she knew that using her power to keep Cain’s soul intact would have been an exercise in futility. Cain was ill, with no way of recovery. But now, the other two humans cared for him as well as her. They gave what they called “antibiotics” and helped her force-feed Cain food and drink.
Though even with all the assistance and care, Cain was only approaching death at a
slower
rate than before. Though his descent to death was slowing down, Al’bah did not know if it would stop, or even if Cain would get better.
Al’bah groaned, fighting off another wave of nausea and exhaustion that threatened to force her consciousness into darkness. Her hand ran through her hair and caught on something.
Al’bah pulled the object out of her hair, Charlie’s silver hair comb; she had forgotten. She turned the comb in her hands, examining the fine details that it had. It was the first gift she ever received. Though Cain had bought her clothes and other essentials, Charlie’s comb was given with free will, and a heart full of peace.
“And,” Al’bah said, examining it closer, “it has a large amount of spiritual energy!” Al’bah thought hard for a moment. And making up her mind started to draw the spiritual energy from the comb. There were no other sources she could use. Al’bah was no thief, and the items within the Wellses’ household would curse her, as they were neither hers nor Cain’s.
Thoughts, emotions, and memories flooded Al’bah’s awareness. She could feel the silversmith hammer in her hand as Charlie had during its creation. The frustrations of the expectation of nothing short of perfection as some of the hammer blows fell without the precision that he was completely capable of.