“All right, I have questions.”
The words came from Lucia’s lips as the carriage bore her and the Duke north from the city, onward to the estate that Talia had inherited. The estate now known as the House of Fallmire. It was morning, the Duke having rented a suite in Black Harbor for the two of them and Richmond to stay the night.
Talia looked up from the broadsheet she had collected from Black Harbor at the start of their journey north, her lips slightly parted as she nodded for Lucia to continue.
“Well. Hm. Okay, first off, who are you? And why do you want to burn that city to the ground?”
This took Talia aback for half a moment, the newly minted Duke momentarily stunned. “I don’t—”
“Don’t give me that. I could sense the hatred broiling in you the moment you set foot in the Parlay-Mint House.”
“You can sense—oh, and it’s Parliament, by the way,” she said, emphasizing the pronunciation. “But you can sense … my anger?”
Lucia nodded. “It’s died down since we started heading north, but yes. Who do you think you were summoning, a Imperial demon? I’m a succubus.”
The silence that followed that declaration spoke volumes to Lucia. The demon finally broke it with, “You don’t know what I am?”
“I’ve heard the folklore,” Talia said. “Seductive demons that deal in lust and other like sins.”
Lucia let out a long sigh through her nose. “Ok, well, that’s not entirely wrong. I’m a succubus; I think older texts might call me a ‘female eccubus,’ and I can sense and manipulate the emotions of others as easily as breathing.”
“Ah.” Talia nodded. “My father is … well, was, a demonologist. I think he was the last of his kind in the country.”
Lucia shook her head. “He told you nothing of demons?”
The pause that followed was filled with a silence altogether different than before. Lucia felt a flare of hot anger, barely suppressed, leap within Talia’s heart. She said, after being quite unable to speak, “He died when I was fourteen.”
“Oh.” Lucia said, more to herself than the Duke. Then, she took a diplomatic tack. “I apologize for assuming.”
“Likewise,” Talia said, her attention drawn back to the broadsheet.
Lucia leaned back in her seat, still studying the Duke. She’d learned more in the last minute than she had through all of yesterday. This Duke was more ignorant of demons than she’d assumed. Not that she’d be easily manipulated, but it never hurt to try …
“If I may, however …”
The Duke looked up, eyes still touched with curiosity. “Yes?”
The Duke didn’t want to talk about her plans, but Lucia could read between the lines.
“Our contract, if I recall, will see me pose as your wife for, oh, three weeks at most. I’m fulfilling a technicality in your country’s law, if I am not very much untaken.”
“Mis-taken. And yes, in so many words, you are correct.” Talia folded the broadsheet and set it beside her on the plush cushion.
“Well,” and Lucia chose her next words carefully, “what if I could help you beyond those three weeks? You’re clearly set on revenge for… well, for something.” She wondered at the Duke’s father, but it was not wise to assume. “I can help with that.”
Talia wasn’t taken in so easily as Lucia hoped. “What would you get out of this arrangement? And why would you think I even need the help, from a demon who has not walked the face of Melodia in centuries?”
“Not even a single century, thank you. And two minds, working together, will fare far better than a single one. My skills may prove useful to you. I can influence the emotions of those around me, see into their hearts, and bend them to my will.” This was an exaggeration, to be fair. But a small one.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Talia said. “What would you get out of this?”
“What do you know of demonic contracts?” Lucia countered.
Talia considered for a moment. “You are bound to fulfill certain duties, and are then released to return to the Abyssal Dream. The basics, I suppose. Though there are plenty of tall tales floating around that imply far more.”
“That is pretty much true. But have you considered why demons like myself ever consent to such contracts?” Lucia let the question hang just long enough before answering it. “Each and every contract we complete brings us power, increases our abilities. I am only so powerful because I’ve been successful in fulfilling the contracts of those who summon me.” She didn’t need to mention her losing streak. A demon didn’t fall into a perfect vengeance plot every day.
“So, if you complete our current contract—”
“I will become a little more powerful. It’s a weak contract, but it’s something. If I assist in bringing your vengeance to fruition, though, I will gain so much more power.”
Talia nodded, satisfied for the moment. “I will think on it, little demon.”
“Please do, dearest wife,” Lucia teased, a move that produced a much more delicious silence than had yet filled the interior of the carriage.
It was a minute before Talia broke the silence yet again. “I’ll need to know more about what you can do. Is there anything else you think important to add? Would you need to be able to see someone to influence their emotions, for instance? Or could you manipulate them remotely?”
Lucia shook her head. “It’s not entirely dependent on sight, but that helps. Being close to my target is a must, however; I can’t really do much beyond a hundred feet fro—”
The carriage rumbled to a sudden halt, cutting the demon off. There were shouts outside. A slam reverberated against the side of the carriage, and there was a muffled cry of pain from Talia’s servant—Richmond, was his name? Lucia looked over to Talia, who was scrabbling around beneath her seat for something.
Highway robbery. “Fuck,” Lucia whispered.
The shouts subsided. Then, the carriage door opened, and the long barrel of a rifle peeked in. The voice that accompanied it was rough, in the manner of a country farmhand. “Hands where we can see ‘em, both of you. Out.”