Succubated!

“I don’t get it.” John looked at the Cuban sandwich in his hand—a delicious concoction of pork, ham, cheese, and pickles pressed between two grilled slices of bread—and took another bite, thinking.

Una smiled at him from the other side of the dining table. From the sleeve of her black silk robe, her arm gracefully reached out to scoop up another soup dumpling from the bamboo steamer between them. The demoness popped the morsel into her mouth, motioning for John to continue.

“This medianoche sandwich really is… how did they know it’s exactly what I was having a craving for? And I’m assuming you were in the mood for Chinese.” The succubus nodded, still chewing with a broad smile on her lips.

The priest’s brow furrowed. “But I really don’t get it. You started up that app, it gave you a price right away, and you paid… then five minutes later, the food’s here? How is that possible, teleportation? Time travel?”

“Nothing so fancy,” Una replied after swallowing. The succubus dabbed delicately at her lips with a napkin. “Omnivoracle is all just prediction, with a combination of computer algorithms and divination—at least that’s what Jay says, and he’s an investor. They guess what food needs to be ordered, prepared, and roughly where it needs to go to, and when you place an order, it just confirms that the guess was right, so they bring the food to you.”

John rolled one eye heavenward, as if his head hurt. “All right. So… they’re predicting what food we want. What happens if they guess wrong?”

The succubus shrugged. “Well, I’d hope the delivery driver gives the food away to someone passing by before it gets cold? Or eats it? The speed is really impressive sometimes. Jay made an order the other day and his phone rang five seconds later: it was pizza delivery, right outside.”

John downed another bite of cheese, meat, and pickle, and shook his head again. “Seems to me like it must be wasteful somewhere along the line… in a data center or an aetheric matrix, or whatever the magic equivalent of energy waste is. Still, I can’t complain about the results, this is exactly what I wanted to eat! No offense to the late soufflé, or the—what was the other dish you were preparing?”

“Pot-au-feu,” Una said with a rueful smirk. “The national dish of France, they say. Beef, sausage, carrots, potatoes and onions, in a broth with wine, herbs and garlic.”

“Damn, I’m sorry I missed eating that, too.” John shook his head. “When did you take up cuisine? You never cooked back at the parish.”

Una had poured herself a glass of rosé, and now she studied the pale pink liquid in the candlelight, swirling it gently. “Well…” She pursed her lips. “Father Michael might not have. But did you know Yael was friends with Antonin Carême, one of the most famous chefs of the 19th century? I’m remembering bits and pieces… recipes, even.”

John raised his eyebrows. “That how you knew the spell to put out the fire?”

Una shook her head and leaned over towards the counter, her robe falling open to reveal the smooth curve of one breast, capped by a dark nipple surrounded by a ringlet of freckles. John swallowed, watching her. Her outstretched hand returned with an old book, which she tossed on the table to one side of their food containers.

“Remember that? Susan gave it to me.”

John studied the tome; it had gilt letters stamped into a worn leather cover with a tooled design of leaves and vines, and it smelled faintly of old paper and dust. “I do. It’s a spellbook, right?”

Una nodded. “Mostly what people call cantrips—simple magicks that anyone can learn, supposedly. Except, of course, most people can’t channel enough aetheric essence to actually cast them.” The demoness sipped her rosé, and her eyes twinkled as John stared into them over the rim of her glass, transfixed.

“However, if you happen to be a succubus,” he said, leaning his chin on his steepled fingers, “Who’s coming into her own, mastering her abilities, maybe you’d find those spells easy?”

“Mmmm. Mostly. It’s still slow going, learning on my own. I could ask one of the practitioners at the OSA, but I feel self-conscious about it. So I’m doing it myself, picking up a few tricks.” She winked and slid her chair forward towards him. “Enough about me; I told you about the weird time Susan and I had up at Sylvia Larkspur. What’s going on with you?”

John pursed his lips and leaned closer as well, then let out a breath. “Oh, you know me: devoted to our parish and to the local community center.” He paused, and his eyes met hers before he continued. “You know, they finally assigned someone to help me out at St. Andrew’s, now that it’s open. Father Ramon Aguilar, recently transferred from the west coast. He’s green, but so was I when we first worked together.”

Una’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t quite read her expression. “Wow, Father Hayes. So you’re pastor now, huh?”

“In all but name, I guess?” He shrugged. “Father Michael Belmont is still officially on leave, or special assignment, depending on who you ask.”

They ate in silence for a little while; John finished his sandwich and started in on the side order of plantanos that had arrived with his meal. Una, who’d finished her dumplings, put her elbows on the dining table and rested her chin on her intertwined fingers, studying him.

Finally Una spoke up, as if trying to select a safe topic of conversation. “How’s everyone at the Haven doing?”

John smiled with an easy warmth, and the succubus relaxed, her own expression matching his. “Better than ever, as far as I can tell. I wish I had more time to spend over there, but… you know how it is.” She nodded and slouched a little in her chair.

“Yevgeny and Niamh found an apartment for the two of them, along with those twin sisters, the light and dark ladies with the masks?” He popped a plantano in his mouth.

“Lila and Alia,” she said confidently. Whatever the case with the demonic side of her memory, Una still had the same aptitude with names that had benefitted Father Michael’s pastoral work. John caught a wistful look in her eyes.

“Yes, that’s right. Rent-controlled, if you can believe that in this day and age. I think Niamh must have used her powers of prediction to find it.” They shared a grin. “As for Yevgeny—I suggested he might find work as a plumber or a handyman, for obvious reasons. He’d already improved the plumbing at the Haven; the guy can fix a leak or a clogged pipe just by pointing at it.”

“How about the college kids?” Una inquired.

Her dinner companion chuckled. “They’re all roommates now, at the Hunter College dorms. Reem and Aidan, still together, and Sherill is—whoa, hey now!” John started as he felt a probing touch from beneath the table, then a firm coiling grip in his lap. He coughed. “Did you want me to, ah… keep telling you about?”

“The kids,” Una purred, leaning closer. “What were you saying about Sherill?” John’s eyes flicked down to where her robe had fallen further open, one long-nailed hand teasing her left nipple with a slow circular motion.

“Sherill?” John said, swallows hard. He cleared his throat. “Right. She’s decided on a major in psychology, which makes sense, right—” He gasped as Una’s tail slipped over the hem of his pants, winding its way around his rapidly swelling erection and beginning a slow, rhythmic squeeze.

“Keep talking,” the demoness murmured, her yellow eyes glittering in the dim lighting of the loft apartment. “Tell me more.”

“I was going to mention your friend X, but… did you want to talk, or…?” John’s breath quickened as the slippery length of Una’s tail slid across him from root to crown. His eyes closed briefly as he savored its touch.

Una slouched further in her chair until she sank beneath the table like a melting ice sculpture. “I’m sure you can multi-task, John,” her soft voice rose in the darkening room. “I know I can.”

John’s hips bucked involuntarily as the succubus’ tail tightened around him, stroking faster. He groaned and leaned his head back. “I’m not sure I can, but—oh! Okay! Well, X made a generous donation. He’s come by—ahh, Jesus Lord! Came by with a girl he’s dating, said you intro—Una! Please…”

Una’s face appeared beneath the edge of the table, just as her hands finished loosening his pants for the second time that evening. “Tina. I can’t really take credit, but I’m so glad they hit it off…” She stopped talking; her mouth was busy licking a droplet of pre-come from her guest’s pulsating tip.

John’s head fell back, and he moaned, his voice rising higher as Una’s lips enveloped him. Her dark locks bobbed up and down in his lap. The succubus’ tail remained wrapped tight around the base of his cock; the contrasting sensations made the priest shiver. He reached out and stroked a hand through the thick tresses of her hair, his fingers finding the small, sensitive nubs of her horns where they lay hidden near her forehead. Una moaned in pleasure.

He willed himself to relax, but he could still feel his pulse pounding and his heart hammering in his rib cage. “Una, if you keep going, I’m gonna—”

The succubus pulled her mouth free with an audible pop. She licked her lips as her tail squeezed him tighter, while her hands stroked his thighs. “You are? Oh please, Father… won’t you share your sacred essence with me?” She giggled. “Oh, John… you don’t know what it’s like, being a succubus. I used to stare at you during services, just fantasizing and wondering. Now that I can have you, I just can’t stop this craving to… devour you.”

Something in the tone of her words sent a strange and nervous thrill down John’s spine. “Una… I…” His breath caught as her tongue ran over his shaft again, teasing and tickling his skin. With a great effort of will, he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“No. Una, wait. Stop.” The demoness paused, looking up at him with a puzzled frown on her face. Her tail loosened slightly, allowing the blood to flow more freely through John’s aching member.

“John?” Her voice sounded slightly plaintive, almost like a kitten denied a bowl of cream.

His hands moved to stroke the sides of her jaw and neck. “I can’t say I don’t enjoy your attentions, or that I didn’t love the way you welcomed me. But do you remember why we made dinner plans? I have some… things I need to talk over with you.”

John felt Una stiffen, and she sat up slowly, her eyes fixed on his face. Suddenly, her expression was unreadable, masked by fleeting thoughts; then it vanished as she slid back beneath the table.

“Troublesome priest,” he heard her mutter. “Don’t you think I know that as well as you? I was just trying to forget our troubles for a while.”

He sighed and pushed back from the table, his erection flagging as he stood and tucked himself away. Una rolled easily out from beneath the table and moved lithely to pick up a flared woolen overcoat.

“Grab a drink, Father Hayes,” Una said, her voice cool. “Let’s talk on the roof and gaze at the stars.”

Minutes later, they stood on the roof of the old industrial building, looking out over the rooftops of Brooklyn’s Crown Heights neighborhood.

John couldn’t help but turn his head eastwards towards Bed-Stuy, once the largest African-American ghetto in the United States, and still home to many poor and working-class families. It had changed drastically after the upheavals of Portal Day, becoming the first neighborhood of any size to undergo significant integration of non-humans and humans. Now it was a mix of disparate communities that people in Manhattan, on Wall Street and in City Hall, preferred not to think about. Could easily include the Catholic Church on that list, he added mentally.

Una looked no less stunning, dressed in her heavy coat and a pair of boots, than she had in a silk robe or nothing save an apron, but John could feel the change in her demeanor. A certain reserve had replaced the succubus’ earlier warmth and playfulness. She turned from gazing towards the park to raise an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her tail twitched behind her, flicking like a cat’s.

“I wanted to talk to you too,” Una said, her eyes fixed on his and her mouth pursed in concentration. John could see the tiny lines of disapproval forming at their edges, even in the dim light provided by underlit streetlamps. “Ah… maybe you should go first.”

John nodded, stood still for a moment, and then scratched his beard. His eyes drifted skyward to the nighttime cityscape, then back to the demoness’ yellow gaze. Finally, the priest took a deep breath and let it out, and spoke.

“Una Belmont, I hope you know I love you.” The look on her face flickered, a mixture of emotions flashing over it before she settled on a faint smile.

“I know, and I love you too, John Hayes. But that’s not what you needed to tell me, is it?”

The priest shook his head. “I wish that were all. Listen, I’ve been thinking…. about us, and about what we are to each other. My vows, and the damn bind that Monsignor Albert holds over our heads… but mostly, my feelings.”

He paused and licked his dry lips, and she cocked her head at him. The breeze tugged at the tight curls on his head, making him shiver and wish suddenly they were still inside, on the kitchen floor: warm, cozy, and messy, but safe from the elements and the world.

Una stepped closer to him, taking the lapels of his jacket in both her hands, and looked up into his face. Her voice was quiet, but insistent. “And what did you come up with, John?” Her breath misted the air.

John looked down on her, seeing the way her eyes shone and reflected the light, and admiring the raven arcs of her hair and her smooth, flawless skin—the skin whose hue and luster she could change at will now, he knew. She’d chosen a warm, ruddy bronze for him today, quite unlike the alabaster peppered with freckles that she’d worn to surprise him weeks ago, when she’d first been mastering transformation.

“I love you,” he started again, conscious of his repetition. “I want to do right by you. Stay loyal to you. I have my faith, of course—a faith I think we still share, each in our own way. But I can tell…” He struggled for words, trying to articulate the feeling he couldn’t shake.

“You want to break it off,” Una said, her voice calm but matter-of-fact. “Because of the threat hanging over me and over your head, because of the danger I pose to the Church and your position, and because you feel like a liability—a tool that someone could use against me. Did I get all of it?” She looked up into his eyes, her own steady and unblinking.

John Hayes felt a welling of emotion inside his chest and throat; he blinked rapidly and shook his head, then nodded slowly and closed his eyes to hold back a hot, stinging sensation.

“You’re half right,” he managed at last in a choked whisper, opening his eyes at last and meeting her gaze, his eyes watering. “I don’t know what’s right anymore. I do know I love you, and I do believe this situation… the danger we’re in, the politics of the Church… all of that makes it hard for us to just sneak away, hard to pretend we can have some kind of normal life together.”

Una nodded slowly, then closed her eyes and leaned into him. She’d balled up her fists against his chest, clutching at his coat. “Angels above and devils below, John Hayes! Why do you have to… ach, why’d you have to lay it all out like that? I just wanted a little space for happiness, a place where you and I could be… something.” She looked up into his dark brown eyes, searching. Her own golden orbs seemed moist and luminous in the night.

“You had something to tell me too,” he reminded her, running his hands over her shoulders. “What was it?”

The succubus snorted, shaking her head before burying her face against his shoulder. “You know what? It was the same thing. I’ve been… worried about you, about us. I don’t want to feel like I’m the Sword of Damocles, hanging over your life.” She paused and took a breath, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t want you in danger because of me, and I don’t want you to keep breaking your vows with me unless you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want. I don’t want the supernatural madness that I’ve allowed into my life… that I’ve become… to overwhelm yours.” Una looked up at John again.

He stared back at her, his mouth agape and his eyebrows furrowed. “So, what? We call it quits? I’m not giving up on you, Una, not for the Vatican, not for Monsignor Albert, or Nezz, or anyone else.”

“Then what, John?!” She beat her fists against him gently. “Do you want to keep sneaking around, risking your livelihood and your reputation, just so we can have hot, furtive fuck sessions that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your skull?”

He laughed and hugged her tight to his chest. “When you put it that way, the amazing paranormal sex makes it sound worth it!”

She snorted against him. “No,” she said in a quieter voice. “It’s not enough. Not for you, and not for me.”

She pulled back a little to look up at him again. “You deserve better, John Hayes. You really do.” He could barely hear the soft words, even though her lips were inches from his ear. “You’re a good man—maybe one of the last who deserves to be called so. So you deserve better than a demon girlfriend who has a bullseye on her back and the Church breathing down both our necks, promising protection and blackmail in the same breath.” Una’s eyes glittered with tears, but John could tell it wasn’t sorrow or regret. It was anger and frustration.

He shook his head slowly and then cuffed her gently on the side of the head with one big hand.

“There you go, talking trash about yourself again,” he scolded. “You’ve grown into something different and miraculous, a flower with sharp thorns, beautiful petals and a fragrance that I can’t get enough of. You’re also still the same sweet, sad soul who I came to admire and love years ago, before either of us ever imagined we could be anything more than friends and partners. I see you, Una Belmont. I know you, from your beautiful, good heart to the tip of your tail.”

She smiled at last, sniffling, her face buried in his jacket once more. “Okay. But how am I supposed to get by without the one guy who supposedly knows me so well?”

He stroked her hair, and then leaned down to kiss her cheek, tasting the salt of the single tear that had run down her face. “I’m not going anywhere, silly girl. Even if we’re not… not seeing each other like this anymore. I’m still by your side, ally and friend, someone you can count on. Even when it’s dangerous. Especially when it is.”

They held each other, standing on the rooftop and listening to the sounds of Brooklyn around them for some time. John felt Una’s heartbeat slow and steady as she leaned into his embrace, her body warm even through the thick fabric of their coats. At length, she pulled away from him, wiping unshed tears from her eyes as a gust of wind stirred her dark locks.

John watched the breeze tug at the ends of her hair and wondered what she would look like tomorrow morning when she woke up alone. Not alone, he reminded himself. She has many people around her. Susan, for one thing—an invulnerable lover for a dangerous life. He stifled a sigh.

“You know, you’re a real jerk, John. You’ve gone and done it.” Her voice was thick with emotion and she wiped at her eyes again.

He cocked his head, quizzical. “Done what?”

Una shook her head slowly, a sad smile on her lips. “Made a demon fall for you. Made it hard for me not to be in love with you.” She looked at the ground, her eyes shining in the night’s darkness. “I guess it’s better than never having loved at all, huh?”

He cupped her chin in one hand and tilted her face upwards. His lips descended upon hers, kissing her deeply, hungrily, and with a longing that he felt to the marrow in his bones. Her mouth opened beneath his, returning his passion, and her arms snaked behind his head, pulling herself close to him.

When the two of them parted at last, they were both gasping, and John could feel Una’s breasts pressing hard against his own chest through their winter layers.

“I’m not sorry,” she said, and there were fresh tears on the corners of her eyes, despite the fierce, proud smile she wore.

“I wouldn’t want you to be. I ain’t sorry either,” he replied, stroking her cheeks with a bittersweet pang in his own chest. “Because someday…”

The look Una gave him made his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat. “Someday?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Someday, no matter that you’re a demon and I’m a priest, we’ll figure this out. When the danger’s past—however that might happen—and the Church isn’t watching our every move, waiting for a wrong step. Someday.”

Her smile was radiant, and it filled him with joy as much as it made his heart ache. “Someday,” she echoed, nodding.

They kissed again, holding onto each other tightly in the cold air.

After a while, she spoke once more. “Tell me one thing, John Hayes?”

“Anything for you, Miss Una Belmont,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“I know there are a hundred reasons this feels complicated, John.” She looked out at the horizon, where the stars twinkled faintly above the city skyline. “But even if we’d never taken vows, even if I’d never been possessed… I’d still be… you know. A different kind of girl. One who used to be…”

He placed one large, calloused finger to her lips. “That doesn’t even enter into it.” His voice was quiet and firm, and he gazed at her steadily.

Una’s eyes held onto his. “No?”

“Nope. You might be my first succubus, but did you think you’re the first trans woman I’ve ever loved?” John grinned as her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t get me wrong—before I found my calling, most of my relationships were with cis ladies… but then there was Rose.”

Una raised her brows. “Oh, Rose, huh?” She tried to hide the jealousy in her eyes with a teasing grin.

John smirked. “I don’t normally talk about past relationships on a date. But I’ll tell you, if you like.” When she nodded eagerly, he continued. “We were seniors in high school, up in the Bronx. She was a year older than me, and… well, let’s just say that public school wasn’t the easiest place to be trans back then, but she was fearless. She was also gorgeous, funny, brilliant, and a little crazy, but I didn’t care about that. I was young.”

Una listened intently. John rarely opened up about his past, and the demoness soaked up every word like a parched desert.

“I crushed on Rose hard,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “Then, after we’d been together a while, I… I let other people’s opinions affect our relationship. I feared the judgment and scorn of others, and felt more terrified of how they treated her. Other girls tolerated Rose as long as she was just a joke, as long as she stayed in her lane—but once we started dating, she became the target for all kinds of cruelty.”

Una nodded silently, her expression sympathetic, and reached out to touch his hand. John swallowed and went on. “Rose was a tough chick, though. She didn’t give a shit about their nonsense. I was another story. She could just tell that… that I wasn’t ready to deal with the heat. I couldn’t handle it.”

“She broke up with you.” Una spoke quietly, with a slight nod.

“Yeah. Then she left school, moved away to live with an aunt in Chicago. We stayed in touch… for a while.” He shook his head. “I resolved never to make that mistake again, never to back down like that again. Not when someone I love needed support from me.”

John’s voice grew thick as he continued speaking. “So even if I don’t want to become a liability or leverage… even if this chapter of our relationship… has to end, or pause… I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded again and squeezed the priest’s hand in her own. Her eyes met his, and she spoke in an indistinct murmur. “I just need one more kiss, Father. Then I’ll be ready.”

John Hayes pulled his lover close and bent his head low. The kiss deepened quickly, and Una clung to the priest with a fervency bordering on desperation. Tongues entwined and teeth clicked; John’s lip stung as the succubus nipped at it. The two of them gasped, panting as the wind rose to whip across their faces and their bodies pressed together for warmth.

Una broke the kiss, her face flushed, and looked up at him with eyes that glowed softly in the darkness. She whispered, “No more pretending, then.”

“No more. Just the love, the real love.” He smiled at Una through a haze of tears.

She returned it with her own sad smile; it was a smile of farewell, but also a smile of hope and promise. She reached up with a slender finger and traced it lightly around John’s lips. He closed his eyes and breathed in the perfume of her skin.

The demoness stepped back and let her coat fall open, and her robe. She stood before him naked, the picture of sensuous temptation, with her dark nipples stiffening in the frigid air, and her golden thighs gleaming in the moonlight. John felt a surge of lust mingle with a wave of tender affection, then stared as his lover transformed.

Una’s change came across her more quickly than he’d seen in the past. Patches of deep crimson raced across her skin as fur sprouted from her calves and ankles; her tail whipped around while her stature grew, toned muscle joining the curves of her form. John heard joints and sinews crackle as Una’s feet bent and hardened into cloven hooves, and her sharp nails elongated into talons.

Atop her dark hair, Una’s horns sprouted and grew, spiraling outwards until they curved backwards in a graceful curve over her head. Una threw up her arms, and a pair of enormous black-feathered wings burst from between her shoulders. She arched her neck and stretched out to her full height, her breasts heaving as she inhaled deeply.

To John, she looked magnificent and fearsome—somehow more like the vision of Yael he’d once witnessed in the nave of St. Andrew’s Church, but more. Where the ancient succubus exuded raw lust and mischievous cruelty, Una seemed somehow more grounded, more human. Her eyes gleamed with grave beauty.

The dark goddess before him spoke. “See me as I am, John Hayes.”

He kneeled before her, and took his hand in hers, and brought it to his lips.

She caressed his face with her free hand, her fingers hot on his skin. John closed his eyes, shivering. A sound like a miniature thunderclap accompanied a gust of wind that nearly toppled him. He opened his eyes in time to see Una take to the heavens. Her powerful wings drove her upward; the priest rose to his feet on the rooftop, with only the lingering fragrance of her perfume and the distant stars for company.