Chapter 18
There was a routine Bloom had established since arriving on Eros.
Wake up, eat breakfast, train until her knuckles bled, eat lunch, train some more until she finally got her inner succubus to snap and Abaddon gave her nod of approval, eat dinner in the royal hall, fuck Azazel to release all her frustrations and feelings of failure, go to sleep, and repeat.
It was tiring. No, it was exhausting. But it was a way of life that Bloom could adapt to. The order was something she craved after so many months spent in limbo. Sure, she could have done with sunlight or friends or even a word of praise every now and again, but those things weren't necessary to her survival. If anything, Eros was making her stronger. No one would ever hurt her again, not unless they wanted to die, that was for sure.
The only silver lining in Bloom's day was the fucking Azazel part, not because she got to feed (and she had to confess that being sated all the time felt so much better than being half-starved and sex-crazy) but because the incubus was actually becoming something of a friend. Now, Bloom wasn't going crazy. She knew the reforming prisoner was very much there because he was ordered to be her sex slave, not because he volunteered, but he was a genuinely interesting guy who seemed to be interested in listening to her problems just as much as he was interested in listening to her moan. Plus, it didn't hurt that he was gorgeous. If they had met under other circumstances, she may have even tried to pick him up.
Bloom had long since freed Azazel from his binds - the wrist and ankle shackles discarded to the dregs of hell. It felt inhumane to keep him bound in her room, the guilt outweighing the pleasure. There was nothing to be done about the neck collar; it was what held him to his service and prevented him from leaving the room - a feature which Bloom discovered was made null and void if she accompanied him. Azazel did not seem to mind the terms of his service; in fact he frequently told Bloom that she was the most liberal mistress he had ever had. That turned into a very long and appalling discussion about slave conditions on Eros, and Bloom swore to herself that she would bring such matters up with her mother as soon as she worked past her fear of the woman.
As for now, the two of them lied in Bloom's enormous four-post bed, the sheets in absolute disarray except neither of them were wrestling in it. They were simply laying across different portions of it, talking about nothing and everything. Bloom felt as though she could tell Azazel anything. There was something about having someone completely dedicated to her and her alone that led to that sense of security. It may have been dangerous, but if Bloom kept these feelings locked inside, she knew it would lead to damage.
"Even though this is my true home, I feel like an outsider here," Bloom confessed. Even now , she could recall the feel the other succubi's eyes on her while she sparred in the ring, judging her every misstep.
"Things will get better in time. It has only been a year. That may be a lot to fairies, but to us it is like a blink of an eye."
"That bothers me too," Bloom said. "There is part of me that is still stuck in the human world. And my parents..."
"You mean the people who kidnapped you and withheld the truth from you your whole life?"
"They're still my parents. They still raised me and clothed me, kept me fed and...loved," Bloom continued, wrapping her arms protectively around her waist. It was a sign of weakness Abaddon would scold her for, but her true mother was not around, and so Bloom was allowed this one moment. "I abandoned them in their hour of need."
"The fairies told you they could teach you to heal them, yet they ran at the first sign of your nature," Azazel scoffed, offended for Bloom. "I wish I were more surprised, but that is exactly the kind of treachery they are capable of."
Bloom said nothing. That particular wound was one that had not healed. Not only had she been welcomed into Alfea, but she had been promised a way to save her parents on Earth. They were supposed to help her. They were supposed to be there for her, like they promised. But when things got tough they hunted her down like vermin. They were not her friends. They never were.
Azazel sensed her sadness and, in a rare display of affection, placed a single hand on her shoulder. "I am going to be honest with you. May I?"
"Of course."
"There was nothing you could do to help your Earth parents," Azazel spoke bluntly, no compassion in his gaze. Only cold, hard truth. "Succubi are not healers. We are not nurturers. We are warriors. We are hedonists, to put our nature in primal terms. We do not bring life, we take it. Those people are better off without you around them, just as you are better off without them trying to destroy everything you are."
"I know that," Bloom replied. "I know that, even if they didn't get hurt then, they would have gotten hurt now. I just wish they never had to get hurt at all."
"Such is life," Azazel shrugged. "Be grateful that you still have a life, and a good one at that. Not everyone turns out to be royalty."
"What are you, Azazel?" Bloom asked, suddenly curious. "I am just realizing that you know so much about me, but I know nothing about you."
"I am nothing special. I was born a merchant's son off the coast of Andros nearly half a century ago, but not the eldest, so I was never that important to them. What I remember most about that time was view from my room: the whole ocean right outside," Azazel said, his tone lofty and disinterested, but Bloom could tell that his past still affected him. "My sires came for me when I was eighteen. I was causing too many problems...My vessel and I boarded a ship bound for mainland when my pheromones became too strong to ignore - said she was going to take me somewhere I couldn't cause any trouble. My sires snuck aboard and whisked me away to Eros. They sunk the whole ship in order to cover it up. My vessel died that day. I suppose it served her right for all the mistreatment she let happen to me, but I still mourned her for a decade after the accident."
"That sounds terrible."
"At the time I thought it was. Until I lived with my sires," Azazel replied, the tension in his voice unmistakable. "They were members of the court, you see, so they were expecting some kind of wondrous heir, someone strong and foreboding. Instead, they received a scrawny immature incubus who could barely defend himself. They were merciless in their training, worked me day and night, denied me food and shelter. So many times, I wished for my old life back."
"What did you do?"
"I murdered them," Azazel said so plainly that Bloom did not take him seriously at first. But his expression did not change. He cracked no smile. He did not laugh. He was completely serious, and only then did Bloom begin to show her horror. "Do not look so terrified. Parricide is more common here than you might expect. It goes back to the whole 'warriors, not nurturers' thing. Besides, my sires were not upstanding individuals. When I was charged, Queen Abaddon actually thanked me for doing what she could not. In many ways, I did Eros a favor, which is why my sentence is so abbreviated."
Explanation or not, justified or not, this was still so much to process. It made Bloom's head spin.
"There is...there is still so much that I don't know..." Bloom stammered, feeling her entire view of life on Eros shift once again. Just when she thought that she had a grip on life here, something came out of the blue that made her reassess. She could not even fathom the darkness it took, the amount of suffering required to push a person to the point of wanting to kill their parents. In this year alone, Bloom had felt anger of the likes she had never before experienced that she attributed to her mother, but never had it gone to the point of wanting to rip her limb from limb.
Bloom just felt sorry for Azazel. She thought she had a rough life, but at least she had known some kindness, no matter how short-lived.
"You do not need to fear me," Azazel assured with another pat to her shoulder. He was really getting bold with all the touching. "You, Your Highness, I serve without complaint."
"Forgive me if that's hard to believe," Bloom replied wryly. She was still going to hold onto a healthy amount of fear and skepticism, thank you very much.
"I do not expect any aspect of our relationship to be easy. After all, you are my punishment," Azazel pointed out. Then, he rolled over on the bed and spread himself out upon it. "So punish me."
Bloom growled, already moving his way. "With pleasure."
Musa had been watching Aisha fight in the training ring for an hour before she made her move.
It wasn't intentional. No, the other woman just had a way of moving that was so...hypnotic. It was almost as if the succubus hunter had learned how to transform martial arts into dance. Musa wanted Aisha to teach her one day - not the baby moves she showed everyone else, but the advanced stuff she reserved for moments like these, moments when she knew she was being watched and wanted to show off.
"What do you want?" Aisha demanded, wiping the sweat off her brow, her muscles glistening with post-workout glow. "Or did you just come to be a pervert and creep?"
"Fight with us."
Aisha rolled her eyes and threw her towel down, off-put. Musa had a feeling things would turn this way, but she was running out of options. At the risk of sounding cliche, Aisha was their last hope at a fair fight if they wanted this raid against the Trix to succeed.
"I told you - "
"I know. You're only here for the Succubus," Musa repeated, the line sounding beaten and old. "Fight with us, and we will help you find her."
"I don't need your help."
"These witches, they have the Dragon Flame. Before them, Bloom was the one who had it. They were the last people to see her before she left Magix, and if we get them during this raid, then you will have all the answers you want," Musa promised, throwing all the cards down on the table. At least now she had Aisha's attention, the other girl turning around and walking back towards Musa. "Please, help us, so we can help you."
Aisha seemed to consider the offer, her mouth screwed up as she weighed the pros and cons. It was obvious that she did not really wish to fight, that she would rather do anything else, but her need to catch the succubus outweighed her stubborn pride.
"Fine. But if this shit gets me killed, it's your ass I'm haunting from the afterlife."
Musa let out a breath, grateful for the victory. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Aisha replied, turning away again. "I haven't done anything yet, and I may just change my mind."
An idle threat. Musa could tell that so long as she held onto that coveted information, she had Aisha right where she wanted her. She watched the prickly warrior walk back towards the remains of the school, and surprisingly saw Tecna walking in their direction. Aisha shoulder-checked the technology fairy on her way past, making Tecna glower. As if the technology fairy needed any more reasons to dislike Aisha...
"Hey, sorry about her," Musa apologized as she watched Tecna rub at her shoulder. "I think I pushed too many of her buttons."
"Was it worth it, at least?" Tecna asked, more bite to her voice though it was more than likely due to the irritation she felt at being bullied.
"Yeah. I finally convinced her to stand with us and help with the fight."
Musa was practically beaming, so damn proud of her negotiation skills. So why wasn't Tecna just as happy?
"Are you certain about this?"
"No, but Aisha is the best fighter here. We need her if we're going to stand any chance of pulling this off."
"I hope you're right. For all our sakes."
"Listen, if you don't feel comfortable - "
For the first time, Tecna was the one to initiate a kiss.
"You never have to doubt my allegiance. I am with you until the end," the genius swore, an intensity in those blue-green eyes that sent shivers down Musa's spine. "It is others I fear who may have a change of heart."
"Are you...jealous of Aisha?" Musa asked, incredulous. The way Tecna blushed and frowned only solidified Musa's suspicions. "I never took you for the jealous type."
"I am not jealous," Tecna denied, though she was fooling no one. "I simply do not trust her. She is dangerous."
"Yeah, to succubi, not to us," Musa replied, not understanding why Tecna was so against Aisha being there. Even in the beginning, Tecna was the only one who was unwilling to make an effort to integrate Aisha into the team. Now, her behavior was only getting colder. "I wish you would stop being so paranoid and could see all the valuable assets she brings to the Resistance. We've learned so much about combat and tactical skills from her."
"Yes, but we still know nothing about her. A whole year, and she is just as much a mystery now as she was then. That does not strike you as odd?"
"So, she's a private person. I'm sure she has her reasons," Musa shrugged, still not seeing the big deal. "Besides, I don't see you running around telling everyone your life story."
"That is an entirely different scenario and you know it," Tecna replied. "Perhaps I am being overly suspicious of Aisha, but I have a right to be. These are perilous times we live in, and no one ever died from being too cautious."
"Right you are, babe," Musa agreed, slinging her arm across Tecna's shoulders and pulling her close. "I'm glad we've got you watching our backs."
"Always."
Musa pushed up on her tip toes and met Tecna for a kiss. Tecna's lips were soft and sweet with vanilla lip balm, making it easy to her own against them. Musa wound her fingers through the short hairs at Tecna's nape, pressing her tongue up against the seam of the other girl's mouth. Tecna opened up without hesitation, allowing Musa to lick her way into the wet heat of her mouth, tongues tangling and tasting and eating all the sweet vanilla up.
When they pulled apart, both girls were breathing heavily, foreheads pressed against one another's to steady themselves.
"I love you," Tecna said, her voice barely a whisper amongst their shared breath, yet Musa heard the words reverberate deep into her bones and through her soul like the most beautiful masterpiece.
This was the absolute worst time to fall in love, but damn, if Musa wasn't already right there with her. "I love you too."