The Succubae Seduction Bk. 02: The Twins Ch. 27

He was invisible and could fly right down the center without being seen, but he sensed enough wards set up to be on the cautious side.

"I still can't believe we finally caught that bastard," one of the Knight's spoke to his buddies. "All these years... It won't make up for the massacre he caused twenty years ago, but it'll be something, at least."

"You weren't even there, Scion Brody," said another in a gruff voice. He was the oldest of the three and walked with a slight limp. He had a slight accent that brought back memories of Oberon's time in England and Ireland before the Pillars created the other world. "You were at the birth of your boy, Bobby."

"He still dating that hot redhead?" Asked the third man. "Damn, what I wouldn't give to get a piece of that fine ass. Of course, that redhead that came in with the betrayer was nice too, even if her face was all messed up. She had an ass on her that—"

"Keep your cock in your pants where it belongs, Scion Cordova," said the European man. "We've got more important things to worry about than where you'll get your next fuck."

"Yes, Consul Mulhan," Cordova responded with military alacrity.

"The two of you were assigned to me to record the execution tomorrow..." their voices trailed off as they moved away from Oberon's hiding place.

The small faery shook with rage at the thought of them hurting his beloved. It took all of his control not to curse the three and leave them looking on the outside as ugly as they are on the inside. He needed to find his betrothed and get them out of here. He could sense that Brock was the one in charge of their body at the moment, but too much magic floated around the area to know much more than a general direction.

Of course, those ignorant snollygosters would use the magic they profane to hate all over their underground hideout, he thought as he zipped down hallways, feeling the one he cared more about than his own soul getting closer. He was so close!

He stopped before floating through an invisible barrier. He sensed the magic just in time from braining himself against it. He could feel Brock and his mother through here and to the right.

Hold on, my dearest heart, he sent mentally, though he knew his promised one couldn't receive it. I'm coming to save you! And because they are important to you, I will save your family as well.

He sent his thoughts into the barrier, to determine what kind it was, and then stifled a chuckle at the foolishness of the Knights. The magic shield covering the portal from top to bottom and side to side was designed to stop any magic from going through. All he had to do was stop being magic for a moment, and he could pass.

With a grimace, he also realized that meant he would actually have to use his wings or walk, instead of his power to stay afloat. He'd also have to turn off his invisibility. He couldn't remember the last time his wings were used for anything more than the brilliant decoration they were. He couldn't even use magic to speed through.

Dropping to the floor, Oberon increased his hearing for a moment, before allowing it to return to normal. He couldn't hear anyone through there, nor could he sense anyone coming through the hall. A camera swung lazily in one corner, though, so he would need to be fast and time it correctly. An inconvenience to be sure, but nothing that was beyond his splendid abilities or unmatched intelligence. These fuck-nard Knights thought they were so smart, but they were less than children playing with matches when it came to magic. Sure, they could do a lot of damage, but they didn't know what they were doing.

Oberon watched for three iterations of the camera's movement before dropping his invisibility and all of his other enchantments. Holding his breath, he dashed through the divider, feeling its slick surface slide cross his skin and let him through.

Then he felt the second barrier, less than two inches from the first.

Agony ripped a screech from his throat. He lost control of his muscles and collapsed to the floor as his body lost the magic that held it together. Before his eyes started to melt and his eardrums disintegrate, he saw the flashing red lights and blaring claxons of some alarm.

Despite the pain and torment ripping his body to shreds, anger suffused Oberon. His strength didn't come from the fact that he was Oberon, King of the Faeries, Keeper of the Cup, Lover of Ladies, and Soulkeeper of the Fay. No, he was all of those things because of his strength. His life spanned millennia. His enemies were not only dead, but their names and deeds were forgotten. There wasn't a reality in existence that would allow Oberon to succumb to the foolish Paladonic Knights.

With an effort of will that even a Gaia would be impressed by, Oberon forced his magical body to coalesce. The second barrier negated all of his magic, so he pulled from himself back together using the ambient mana in the atmosphere. Bit by bit, molecule by molecule, he reformed his substance. By the time he was done, his breath came out in ragged gasps from new lungs, and sweat coated his small body. His immediate surroundings were tapped out of magic, excluding the two barriers, but he was whole again.

And very pissed off!

"Who in the fuck puts a null-magic barrier right next to a stop-magic barrier?" he demanded of no one in particular. "That kind of fumble-witted nonsense is absurd!"

"Seemed to fuck you up pretty good, little man," came a voice Oberon didn't recognize. Nor did he appreciate the tone.

"Little man?" he blinked, looking up to see a rifle—no, make that multiple rifles—pointed right at him. "Don't you know who the fuck I am?" He gave them a slight moment to respond before continuing. "I'm Oberon! King of the Faeries, Keeper of the—Oof!"

Oberon picked himself up off the floor after the soon-to-be-dust Knight belted him in the face with his rifle's butt. It hurt, but not nearly as much as feeling his body separating at the molecular level.

He licked his lips, tasting the blood that seeped down from the new cut on his head. His newly formed body sucked in the remaining mana from the two barriers, and even the morons surrounding him. Already he could feel them weakening as he grew stronger. He wasn't nearly to full strength, but if he were smart, he'd have enough to deal with these meat-cups.

Oberon saw that they were shouting at him, but he ignored whatever foolish orders they thought he should follow. He counted six guns in total pointed at him. With a simple gesture, they all turned into bouquets of flowers. Titania always loved flowers, and he often missed her.

Thinking of his past lover, he grinned as he transformed the Knights next. Snouts stretched their screaming faces as their ears elongated. Their deep voices turned to a cacophony of braying. He recalled Cordova saying something about some redhead having a fine ass... Well now six previous humans wore the heads of asses. Perhaps one day, someone would be enamored of them.

The last of the barriers dissipated, their residue slipping into Oberon as he stepped past the twitching men on the floor. He didn't care to waste what little strength he had left on flying, and he still needed to rescue...

Oberon stopped and shook his head. He no longer felt the overwhelming emotion for Brock or Bridgette that he had minutes earlier. The love spell Aphrodite placed on him was gone. As was his compulsion to protect and save them, or their family.

Oberon looked up at the ceiling, debating his next move. He could leave Brock to his fate, and go back to being carefree. He owed that family nothing. Other than an oddity, or a source of entertainment, Lyden Snow and his children meant almost nothing to him now.

A grin split his lips as he looked back at the men clawing at their furred faces. It was time to have some fun. Not here, though. He'd drained this area of magic and needed more. But first, he needed to turn off that damned alarm.

* * * *

Brock cursed his infirmity as he watched his mother pace their small cell. A steady trickle of water fell from a spout in the ceiling. It was enough to keep him wet and alive, but barely. Every moment was a torment as he felt on the verge of drying out.

They'd heard a scream a few minutes ago, but it had quieted shortly after. There might have been an alarm also, but it didn't last long. The best they could guess was that someone was tromping donkeys through this lair, and one had stepped on someone's foot.

Crushed their foot, I hope, Bridgette said to him. Serve the bastards right!

They deserve a lot worse than having their feet crushed, he thought back to his other half.

True, she agreed, but then he felt her emotions shift. But we shouldn't focus on revenge. We need to be better than them. I hope our Oberon is all right.

Brock nodded to that. After talking in their father's Menz Mundi, they knew their fiancee was free, but nothing more.

Oberon can take care of himself. We need to figure out how we're going to get out of here. He knew that Bridgette felt his hopelessness, despite his words. He needed a constant supply of water to stay alive. Unlike any regular mermaids, he couldn't shift into a human form. They were stuck with their tail and fins. Without his mechanical legs, and water bowl designed specifically for them, they were stuck in this cell. Brooke was a strong woman, but even Bridgette's form was too heavy for her to carry far.

Are you ready to switch yet? his sister asked him. I can take over for a bit and let you relax. I can tell how much the dryness is hurting you.

He appreciated the gesture and made sure she could feel his emotions as he declined. I'd still feel it, even if it's dulled. I can handle this. He knew that she knew it, but paradoxically, saying it took his mind off the discomfort.

Women have a higher tolerance for pain, you know, she chided him, though he could tell she wasn't serious.

Of course, I know! he told her back. He knew her goal was to distract him, and he appreciated it. I've suffered your monthly cycles and even dulled, I don't want to try the real thing.

Bridgette was quiet for a long moment, and he left her to her thoughts. When she spoke again, it wasn't what he expected.

Do you think Oberon will want to have kids with us?

Brock's tail slapped the hard ground a few times as he tried to process that thought. As he understood it, for them to have kids, Bridgette would have to control their body for the full term. They never went longer than a day without swapping. Being cooped in within their shared mind for too long made them antsy. He couldn't imagine trying to stay inside for months on end. And they didn't even know what the gestational period for them would be, much less with a Faerie father.

"I think it's about time we blow this fucking popsicle stand, don't you?" Oberon's voice sounded from outside.

Brock gave an instinctive wince at the foul language but was too happy to see his lover to chide him over it.

"Oberon!" Bridgette's voice sounded as she forced her way to the front and changed their form. "I'm so glad you're... okay?"

Brock looked through her eyes to see what made her stumble over her words. Oberon looked terrifying. He'd look less frightening if blood covered every inch of him. Instead, he glowed an eery green color, including his eyes. The smile that split his lips wasn't one of joy at seeing them, but of mayhem and mischief.

"Oberon?" Bridgette asked, holding a hand out to their lover. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Toots," he responded with a wave of his hand. "But you should know that the fucking harlot of Greece, Aphrodite's spell is gone. I'll make her pay for that when I see her again, but for now, let's get you out of here. I'm tired of turning men into jackasses."

Brock felt his heart shatter at the same time that Bridgette forced him back to the front and hid in the deepest parts of their mind. Oberon didn't love them anymore. He didn't even seem to really care. Which explained why he was back to speaking like a thirteen-year-old, instead of an adult.

"I can't leave this water," Brock told him, trying not to reveal the massive lump in his throat. His heart might be broken, but their family needed them, and they needed to escape.

"What?" Oberon asked, distracted by something outside their cell. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Where are your legs? Can't you do something for your child, Toots?"

Hearing him call their mom by the name he'd used for them added a new dimension to their emotional pain. Brock shoved it down as he tried to comport himself. "I think it was out there," he pointed to the antechamber that Oberon must have flown through.

Oberon zipped out, but came back a moment later, empty-handed. "Well, shit. It's not there now... I might have turned it into a honey badger and sent it to chase some Knights. Those things don't give a damn. They'll take on anything."

Tears seeped from Brock's eyes. It was too much. Getting captured, threatened, losing Oberon's affection, and now the one thing that let him be mobile on land? He felt a maniacal laugh start to bubble up and couldn't find the desire to stop it. He wanted to hide, but Bridgette was already there.

"Brock?" his mom asked, coming over to comfort him. "It's okay. We'll find another way."

"Another way?" Brock demanded, slapping his tail to show how ludicrous that thought was. The sting of the slap allowed him to refocus his mind, however, and he looked around. Hope fled, though, as they'd done nothing other than trying to figure out how to escape since they woke up.

"You people would be useless without me," Oberon stated as the bars melted into flower petals and opened up before him. He took a moment to study the water falling from above, then waved his hand. A torrent of water gushed out, soaking Brock and making him feel physically better, even if the water was brackish and cold. The water swirled around him for a moment, then lifted him up. It engulfed his body, swirling and turning him about with a maelstrom of force before it finally calmed down.

Opening his eyes, Brock's Jaw fell. Water rushed and shaped itself in the form of his mechanical legs, but instead of stopping at a bowl for him to rest in, it covered him to his chin. He moved his tail, and the water legs turned him about, splashing against the floor but holding form.

"This..." He couldn't find the words to use. After a few precious moments of trying to get his thoughts together, all he managed was a simple but heartfelt, "Thank you."

"Yes, yes," Oberon said, his voice dripping with annoyance. "If you're done gawking at my mother-fucking awesome greatness, then we should be going."

"Don't talk to my son that way," Brooke broke in, placing herself between the faerie king and his makeshift entry. "What happened to you, Oberon? I stood up for you and their relationship with my husband, but now I'm beginning to think it was all an act."

"Ha!" Oberon gave a single laugh before responding. "I've got something standing up for you. Want me to show you?"

"Oberon..." Brock stepped next to his mother. While he was grateful for the new gift, he didn't understand what was going on with his lover. Unless the Knights had somehow gotten to him as well, and brainwashed the little man... But he didn't like Oberon's new attitude. "What's going on?"

"Son of a bitch!" The winged faerie cursed. "No, I'm not talking about you, Brock. Doesn't anyone listen? I already told you that Gloria's spell to make me love you is gone. I no longer desire nothing more than your happiness. However, since I hate the assinine Knights, and your family is rather interesting, I'm deciding to save you. Now, do you want to blow this meatsickle stand, or are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"

"We need to save Lyden, Eldon, and—" Brooke started, but Oberon didn't let her finish.

"Duh! I'd make a crack about all your intelligence being in your tits, but I've already seen you don't have any. Now get moving toots, or I'll really begin to think you want to see what your child was enjoying."

It took all of Brock's willpower not to punch, or throttle, or mangle the little shit. He wanted to stand up for his mother, but he also understood that this was their best chance for getting out of here. Once they were free, there would be a reconning. His heart was broken, and he wanted to join his sister in their shared misery, but he understood that there were more pressing matters to take care of first.

Brock picked up his mother, soaking her clothing as his water bubble extended to keep him submerged. With a nod to the man that was no longer his, he followed the faery out. These new water legs responded quicker and smoother than his metal ones. He knew that they wouldn't offer as much protection, and considering that they were in the middle of escaping from a heavily fortified base, that was a worry.

"I can walk, son. Set me down," Brooke told him, but he shook his head.

"No. I won't tire carrying you, and I can shield your body with my own," Brock told her while keeping his eyes locked on where Oberon led them. It was better than looking at the carnage staining the walls. He was sure that was a donkey's head impaled on the end of a rifle. And he made the mistake of turning his head when he saw movement and witnessed a honey badger digging through the bowels of another man. He didn't want his mother—who he knew had killed in her past—to see this. At least Bridgette stayed buried. He heard her sobbing in the corner of his mind.

Bridgette wasn't weak by any means, but she tended to let her emotions control her from time to time. Not that his heart wasn't broken also, but his logical mind demanded that they seek freedom first, recompense after. He'd let them believe that Oberon could actually care about him and that it wasn't some spell from Gloria. Hadn't Mandy claimed that the spell didn't affect her because she already cared about their brother? But then again, Shlee was part of that spell also, and she'd turned down Eldon's marriage proposal.

His mind was a confused jumble as they wound through hallways. Red lights flashed a warning to Knights that were spread across walls and dismembered in unique ways that he refused to focus on. He'd seen his own share of death, but this was a level of cruelty and carnage that defied words. Body parts poked out of walls, furniture, and even other Knights as though melded there.

"Brock?" A voice broke through the haze clouding his mind. "Brooke! What's going on? Why are the sirens going off?"

He looked up to see his father, or at least the younger version of the man, staring at him through metal bars. Eldon and Shlee stood next to them, and Megan sat on the floor, cradling her head.

Before Brock could speak, Oberon piped in. "Okay, asshole, I'm here to save your tuckus, so stand back."

For a moment, it looked like Lyden was going to argue, but whether it was the look on Brock's face and the shake of his head, or the blood splatters on the Faerie King's small frame, Lyden nodded and pulled the other two away from the cell bars.

The silver bars shimmered as they had for his cell previously, then fluttered away as flower petals.

"Good thing those fucking bars weren't iron," Oberon chuckled, a dark note in his tones.

* * * *

"Why does your magic work?" Eldon asked Oberon as he bent to pick up a few petals. "I couldn't change forms or anything." He'd felt useless as they waited to find out the cause of the alarms. And now to find out that his brother managed to escape before he could set his nerves on edge. And what was with his watery encasing? What happened to his metal legs?