Moon Rise Ch. 02

After calling into work and requesting a "personal day", I forced myself to get dressed and get myself in my car and to the appointment that Clarice had made for me. Sitting on an obnoxiously comfortable chaise lounge in a richly appointed office, I watched the tiny woman scuttle about, humming to herself, lighting a few candles, dropping some oils into a diffuser, and making tiny adjustments to the beautiful little altar on the north side of the office. She appeared to be in her sixties, which implied to me she was likely well into her fifth century. I knew her family hailed from both witches and the fae, so she definitely had the ability to live an extraordinary amount of time. That, and if she were actually sixty, a good portion of the Crypti that I knew saw her would not be as comfortable with her... no centuries old being likes taking advice, medical, emotional or otherwise, from someone they viewed as a child. And no matter how many or few wrinkles present, sixty would be considered young by many Cryptids.

"So, your memory is compromised, you say?" Dr. Valerian asked, shuffling back to her large, dark purple velvet wingback chair in the middle of the office, which faced the chaise. I refused to lay down on the damn chaise. She always found this terribly amusing; the way I resisted treatment, but logically acknowledged I needed it and showed up but never fully committed to the niceties of it.

"Which is really odd," I admitted. "I mean, when I was younger, and I couldn't control my feeding, sure... I might lose consciousness and wake up to a dead body. But that hasn't happened in easily a couple decades. I know exactly when my... partner..." I couldn't use the word 'prey', it made me nauseous. "Is at a good place to be tapped and won't be harmed or notice it... and generally, I know when they are getting depleted and when to stop so I do not harm them... But this... this was different."

"How so?" Dr. V steepled her fingers and watched me over her folded hands, her large grey eyes watching my expression, but I knew she was looking at more than that. She was a natural empath, which made this profession ideally suited to her. You couldn't really hide what you were feeling from her, which made me uncomfortable a lot of the time. She said it was because I was uncomfortable with myself, and my own feelings, thus, didn't like that she was aware of them. If I could conquer my shame and embarrassment about what I was, then perhaps, I would be more comfortable about being in her office, and asking for her help. At least, that was her theory.

"Usually once I decide to feed, Doc, everything turns to hyper focus, not fuzzy... and while I remember bringing Ke—um, the guy... home, and taking him to bed... that's it."

Dr. Valerian regarded me steadily. "Tempest, when was the last time you had a blood test? Or have had any medical care?"

I blinked, a little surprised. "Like... you mean... human medicine? You're kidding, right, doc? Why would I risk us all by seeking a human doctor?" I didn't add that where and how I was raised, the likelihood of a human being permitted anywhere near me at a young age for anything other than dinner was fairly slim. And I don't mean as a guest at the table. But where I grew up, who my family where, that was something I kept between myself and only my closest, most trusted friends. We were rare, we Buveur D'âme, the soul drinkers of the Cryptozoic world. Hailing from Edom itself, few of us chose to reside in this reality. I was raised her by my sisters, away from my parents... from a father I didn't even know the name of. But it was the passing of my sisters... passing. What a polite way to say "eradication"... that caused me to do all I could to cloak myself in the guise of being a many generations diluted little succubus, all on her own, in the big bad world. The good doctor was one of but a handful of people who knew who my mother was, from where I came from. That I was more than I seemed, and older by far than the image of the twenty-something woman I projected. So her question was more than a little odd.

She gave an indulgent smile. "I wasn't implying you would, dear. I simply mean some healers do use some human synthetic medications when treating their Crypti patients. Depending on the Cryptid, some of these actually work in the body, even if they process chemicals and toxins quickly. And we do very much use blood tests and human medicine diagnostics to ascertain certain things..."

"Like what?" I asked, watching her, carefully. She had a theory, one she didn't want to share. I could see it in her very posture.

"Chemical imbalances, hormone changes, even some spells leave residue in the blood. And just as with humans, if you had been drugged in anyway, that, too, would show up." She gave me a very significant look.

I went cold and I mentally went back over the night, but couldn't help sputtering: "But...but I was at the Nest! Who could possibly..." Then I paused and really thought very hard about the night... It was like any other, really, but I had been distracted. Why had I been distracted? "The band..." I murmured. "The band... the lead singer was a Siren."

Even the doctor had a moment to look vaguely surprised. "Arachne generally doesn't allow performers in Her Nest that can entrance Crypti as well as her mortal clientele. She tends to be very cautious about that. The last thing she wants is our people losing control in her home. She doesn't mind spinning her web to help us catch dinner, but we all know to take it home. Having a Siren actively using her abilities in such a manner than might influence one of us at all is rare enough... but on a night where Regular humans were also present? This doesn't sound at all like the Arachne I know. She is generally very cautious."

"I can't say why she'd make such a choice," I said honestly. "But I do remember the singer. She was amazing. I was completely caught in her song." And I had been. She had been beautiful. I had honestly considered leaving cute, boring little Keith at the door when she'd begun to perform. She had been lean, athletic, but with curves to die for. Fullness in her lips, hips and chest... soft, bedroom eyes. Her hair had been dyed a glorious blue-black darker than the night sky but her eyes had been baby blue. And when she sang... gods, just the memory of her voice was enough to make me want to seek her out, to touch her and taste her...

"I see..." said Dr. V softly, with a sage nod. And I knew she did. I knew she felt the sharp edge of my desire, the dreamy, warm essence of the Siren's song on the edge of my memories. "Their allure is similar to yours, though they don't have the same need to feed the way you do. But the power they can call to bear with their voices, when utilized properly... it's some potent stuff. If you were already hungry, I can see that heightening your already fractured self-control. Still, I want to get a blood test, just to rule out anything else. It's unlikely many were unaffected if you were so strongly, but still... it can't hurt. To save time, I can write up the order and have you just head next door. Dr. Phoebe is one of Apollo's offspring. She can get the sample and have it sent to one of our labs for analysis... it will be perfectly safe and handled only by our people."

I didn't see that I really had much of a choice. Something just seemed... off. Wrong. The least of which was my sudden need to get bled for science. Dr. V was right... Arachne was very cautious about mind or mood altering powers and substances in her club, the Widow's Nest. And yes, I do mean that Arachne. Just as when Dr. V mentioned Dr. Phoebe being of Apollo's ilk... she meant it literally. While the actual line between god and Cryptozoic was a strange, blurred one, many of our Elders had once been worshipped as such back before the Shroud was a universal edict. The Shroud of Secrecy became more and more necessary after the Dark Ages and the Burning Times, but before then, when humans were less jaded, it wasn't unusual for a singular or even a whole group or family of Crypti, to be adopted as a small tribe's deity. And to some degree, for many sorts of Crypti, that faith was a method of feeding for them. That... sacrifice of spirit in prayer, in communal worship, in literal and figurative ritual sacrifice, that could strengthen some of us the way feeding from a lover did for me. Those that still, even on the fringes, had followers, they continued to be a little more powerful and dangerous than their offspring or lower, commonplace Crypti. I didn't know many of the Old Ones, but Arachne was always around, on hand. She kept to herself, in her office, but she could be called upon if needed. She was a very, very interesting lady, but I will be honest, she creeped me out more than a little. I think it was all the spiders that loved to flock around her. I had never much cared for them. Rumor had it she and Anansi used to date... one crazy night had been the inspiration for the movie Arachnophobia. Um... yeah... I think I'll pass on that wedding, should they every get back together. No, thank you... the idea made my skin crawl. Twitch.

But for those Old Ones that had had children, just as with humans, traits carried true in their offspring. And just like Apollo, his kids were gifted healers, musicians, and prophets. So, no matter what, Dr. Phoebe was probably a damn good place to start. She just might have some insight what happened to me on a multitude of levels.

"Yeah, ok..." I agreed nodding. "Sure. If you think it's for the best, I'm fine with that, Dr. V. Should I go now?" I knew there was no hiding the eagerness in my voice, so I didn't bother.

Dr. V gave an indulgent, motherly sort of laugh, and moved to her desk and began writing down what she needed into a form. "So eager to get out from under my care, Tempest... I wonder if I ought to be hurt?" Her tone was light and teasing. "No, it's fine," she was quick to add when I felt a stab of guilt. "I know you prefer to stand on your own two feet, dear. But there is no shame in asking for help every now and again. You can't always go it on your own. And that said, do not fall into your usual pit of despair and guilt over this accident. I know you feel deeply for your feeds, but they are just that... if you continue to insist on being with mortals, Tempi, you know that you cannot form any lasting bond with them. Even if you can control your feeding enough not to kill them, over time..."

"I know," I said, more angrily than I intended and winced a little at the harshness of my own voice. "I am sorry, Doc. I know you mean well. And I know that you're, of course, correct. But... I just don't know that I want some... half-love with a Crypti mate who can't... who can't..." I spread my hands in front of me helplessly, hoping she could read my face and my heart, unable to put words to it.

"Who can't ever really give you what you need, in the end," she answered softly. "No, my dear girl, you'll never get that human dream of monogamy of a little house and two children and a dog and never the need to feed on others. That just isn't who you are or how you were made. I cannot take that from you; it is who you are."

"And what do you do if you fundamentally loathe what you are, then, doctor?" I said, very softly.

"I am still trying to find that answer for you, Tempest... but for now, one day at a time, try to find something to love. Because I can see so many things! But it doesn't matter what I see... only what you see in yourself. But before you condemn yourself for this, let me run these tests and maybe you should talk to Arachne about that band last night... who booked them, why they weren't booked for a night closed to humans, for example? Maybe we can piece all of this together into something that will give us a better idea of what happened. And if there isn't enough answers in the bloodwork or from the Nest, we might consider hypnosis, see if we can't unlock those memories in a more direct manner. A little Vita-meta-Veritas," she winked, knowing I would get the I Love Lucy reference with the delightful witchy twist on a truth potion, and I smiled a little for her, to show that I did. "And some regression back to last night and we might be able to see what happened. But not today... you're still too fragile. And yes, I can feel your resentment at the use of that word, but it doesn't make it any less true."

"Bite me," I grumbled, getting up to take the piece of paper she offered to me. I childishly stuck my tongue out her but smiled. She winked and took my hand briefly.

"Tempi... call your mom." That immediately caused a torrent of emotion and I almost recoiled. But she didn't let me go, and looked me right in the eyes. "She is your mother, Tempest. And she is also the Matriarch of your bloodline. She can help you. And you know she'll understand."

"I will get this blood test," I said, my voice going cold as I met those eyes, unflinching. "I will talk to the staff at the Nest, even Arachne if she'll see me. I will even consider dating other Crypti. But let's just leave my Mom out of this, Dr. Valerian. I get that you mean well. And that you and she have known one another a long time. But she isn't going to help this situation... particularly if we find that this is not entirely my fault."

"I... cannot argue with the last part," she conceded, releasing me. "Lilly doesn't like people messing with her children. And as you're the only left of the first generation..." I met her eyes very seriously and nodded. I had had sisters. They were all gone now. But their children... and their children's children... I didn't have much contact with my extended family by my choice. I wasn't like them. I didn't embrace what I was. I hated it. I was just the only one left that hadn't killed herself, or been killed by Inquisitors, hunters, or some other mishap of life because of interacting with humanity. As such, my mother both treasured me to an almost obsessive degree but also took my eccentricities as a personal affront to herself and all she stood for. A Buveur D'âme who didn't revel in turning human men into personal pets? For shame! I was wasting my life, my talent and my power, she said. I could be so much more, she reminded me. If only I would stop being squeamish. If only I could get past my resistance to sleeping with and using Crypti as an occasional snack! If only I was willing to learn all of the things that made our bloodline so special! To learn the skills gifted to us by magic users, which I actually did not totally ignore, no matter what she thought; I just didn't use them to mentally manipulate humankind or subvert them to my will! And we won't even get into my complete lack of interest in settling down and popping out a few more baby succubi for the family! No, thank you. You'd think she'd understand not wanting to submit to any man. And she did. She just didn't understand not being willing to submit to her.

But... I suppose that's what's expected when your mom is the Mother of all Demons and the first Succubus in existence, First Lady of Edom.

Yay, me...Insert eye roll here.