Incubus Ch. 03

Kat sent a focussed projection into the apartment and determined that Britt was indeed within.

Unexpectedly, Britt returned nothing. No tone. No whisper of reply.

It was as though she were alive but hollow.

Her hollowness terrified Kat. What had Damian done to her? That Damian could discern nothing beyond Britt's absence of tone was equally devastating. The two were obviously bound in ways Kat could not understand.

There was little point in confronting Britt. A piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, but the overall picture was as murky as before.

Kat drove home, having lost the euphoria that normally accompanied a good feeding. She felt badly about Bryan, but he'd get over it. He'd tasted the forbidden fruit and for him there would be no going back. Score one for the forces of evil. A sinner was born.

Instead, her mind turned to the problem of Damian and Britt. Kat was clearly ill-equipped to deal with what ailed them. Nothing in all of her experience prepared her for this. Unfortunately, the demon community featured nothing in the way of doctors or medical information lines.

When Kat returned to the farmhouse, she checked on Damian. He lay on a rumpled bed, not bothering to hide his horns and tail.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"I called, but no one answered," he said jokingly. "No pie for me, pizza or otherwise."

Kat caressed his face and gently kissed his lips.

"We have to do something," she said.

Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. Demon tears. Who would have thought?

"Give me something to work with," she insisted.

"I wish I could, Kat. I really do."

They remained silent for several minutes. She stroked his face and ran her long fingers through his hair. The sun rose over the horizon. A new day.

"It almost as though we were feeding each other," said Damian sleepily. "Britt and I."

Kat stroked his proud horns and ran her hand down to his cheek. With demons, feeding was a one-way street. Demons fed no one.

Unless...

Kat sat upright.

"What's wrong?" asked Damian.

People fed demons. Demons didn't feed people.

Could it be?

Kat stood abruptly.

"Kat?"

But Kat had fled the room. There was work to be done.

***

Kat closed the door to the study and sat at the heavy oak desk. She started the computer and stared at the blank screen.

Despite the lack of community, demons still managed to keep in touch, but at a pace that the modern world would have found infuriating. Unlike the modern world, demons had patience and time.

The internet had made it possible for demons to find each other when they wanted to be found, to exchange stories, to disseminate information. Their communications were subtle, usually in the form of anonymous stories posted on the Web, featuring a smattering of keywords that only had particular meaning to other demons and those few humans who fancied themselves demonologists. Amateur literary sites were a boon to incubi and succubi, for in this forum they could not only promote their myth, but communicate with others of their ilk.

Kat typed a few words. The story would be a veiled query to the demon community, describing the liaison between an incubus and a mysterious woman, whereupon both grew sick.

Hopefully, someone would read the story and recognize the problem. Kat needed a diagnosis. Damian and Britt needed a cure.

Kat typed more quickly now, documenting what little she knew and filling in the gaps with erotic detail.

She thought briefly of Bryan, his energy that permeated her, and then banished him from her mind.

The sun rode high in the sky when she finished the story. She then set about adding certain markers that would identify the story as demon-authored.

She re-read it, adding detail and fixing grammar. Demons could sometimes be the worst critics.

Finally, she was ready to post the story. She added the expected keywords, and then added "De civitate dei", "morbus", and "Sinistrari".

She clicked Submit and sat back.

There was nothing she could do but wait.