Page 74 of The Wickedness of Man

It would show the bishop—and other special investigators—that I couldn’t keep as tight a leash on my succubi as I should have, and that information, in turn, would find its way to my father.Thatwas not something I was about allow, because I’d be damned if I was going to be subjected to any more beatings, starvations, rambling lectures, or Bible lessons from that doddering ass. I’d make sure she’d get her just desserts later. For now, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting to the report in my hands. Anytime now. Anytime now, and I could perform the task my father had given me: Securing the impossible to capture the demoness Carmilla de Mornay.

I’d be rewardedgreatlyfor it: the succubus would return to her place at my father’s side, and I would receive aharemof succubi. I’d never have to worry about feeding too well ever again. With the power of those succubi, and with the news of Caleb… Father would have no reason to hunt me down. I would be free, and he would have a new little puppet to play with.

My life would finally be mine to do what I pleased with. Mine to feed from whoever, whenever I wanted. The succubi would be mine to manipulate, to fuck, to bend, to twist to my will. Mine to desecrate and depredate and use to my little black heart’s content. If I was to be given succubi as powerful as what my father suggested, I could enact the plan I had never spoken aloud to that bastard or anyone else. I’d never have to feel guilt or shame again at using those women; I’d never have to hide myself again. I would be able to bend any of my succubi over a pew in the middle of Sunday’s closing prayer and fuck her in the ass,and not only would the brothers not say anything, they’d just pray louder to avoid getting in trouble for seeing it.

This was my final freedom. Capturing that succubus would mean completing a goal my father had been attempting to accomplish for over decades andfailed.But me… I had nearly done it, and I would never,everlet him forget it.

This had been his one standard.Thetrial that had been set forth for all investigators—but truly the one he’d issued to me. Any investigator who wanted to try was welcome, but failure once meant failure for life. Capture Carmilla de Mornay, alive, and not only would you be given all the succubi you desired, but your succession to the head of the archdiocese would be assured.

Let’s see Father back out of the deal he made publicly—the one he made into an edict. Once I capture that succubus, this organization will belong tome.

We strode down corridor after corridor of this place, Mercy and Jax slowing as they tried, and failed, to keep my pace. I was about ready to leave them in the dust, by the time we finally arrived down one of the organization’s many twisted hidden hallways to a set of large wooden doors. I straightened my sweater and tie, and by the time the two idiots behind me caught up, I’d already knocked twice.

A veiled sister popped the door open just a slit and peered out at us before opening the portal fully to reveal my father’s study—a large, circular room filled with a great many strange things. As a child, I had often tried to study the reproductive organs preserved in formaldehyde and had asked him if I could read some of the books: medical and biblical texts; documents about demonology; examinations of instances of paranormal religious activity; but he’d insisted it was solely for him. The sister directed us to the two couches in the center. Jax thanked her; I did not. She exited through a door on the left side of the room into Father’s bed chambers. There was a series of whispersbefore I heard my father’s voice. I couldn’t make out what was being said from here, but the agitation in his tone was clear.

We’d come at a bad time—exactly as I planned.

“Archbishop Benedict, please—” called the veiled sister in a panicked tone.

There was the distinctive sound of a palm striking a face.

The door flew open and there was my father, starkly white pale and nude except for a red silk robe he held clutched around his waist like a towel. Behind him, the veiled nun fled, stifling her tears as she ran through a door on the opposite side of the room, slamming it behind her with a force strong enough to send an hourglass on a shelf tumbling to the floor. It shattered on impact and sand spilled out of its cracked shell.

How very appropriate.

I turned back to my father, fury written clear on his face. I noted with some delight that his impressive musculature had faded significantly since the last time we’d seen each other a few years ago. His thick white hair, which had previous been tied in a braid down his back all the way to his waist, had been cut to account for its thinning. It was now to his shoulders; even his beard was scragglier and thinner. His eyes, which had once burned red as Hellfire, were now a dull, cloudy orange. He glared at Jax and I, but completely ignored Mercy.

“What is the meaning of this?” he spat.

As he’d approached, he’d revealed more of his demonic form: his fangs long and extended in both sets of canines; his horns, so long and twisted, he had to duck to avoid the ceiling fan when he stomped over to the table. The tail switching in irritation beneath the robe. His leathery wings rattled with the need to tear someone apart.

“Good morning, Father,” I began, standing from the couch. Mercy, who was sitting with Jax, mirrored my movement andstood: a signal of obedience and solidarity with me in front of the old bastard.

Good girl,I thought.Maybe I’ll go easy on you tonight… but then again, maybe not.

“You know good and goddamn well this is when I feed, so you’d better have the single best news I’ve ever heard in the entire world, or I’m killing your succubus and banning you from getting another for six months,” he continued, shaking with rage.

At the door to his bedroom came one of the sisters—a new transfer from the monastery, I believed. She was naked but for her rosary beads, and staggered out, uncertainly clutching her head in one hand, her belly in the other. She was bleeding from half a dozen bite wounds; there were bruises all over her body.

“Please archbishop…” she whispered, either not realizing or not caring that there were two men and another nun in the room with them. “I’m tired?—”

“Get on your back, you slag, I’m not finished with you yet!” screamed my father, pointing a long clawed finger toward the room she’d just tried to exit.

Eyes wide and filled with terror, she retreated back the way she’d come, soft sobs echoing through the room as she closed the door behind her.

“Well, if you’re busy, I can just come back,” I said with what I knew he’d recognize as one of my best shit-eating grins.

The Archbishop Osbert Benedict glared at me in silence, and behind us, Jax shambled to his feet and tapped his cane as he came forward, as if prepared to intervene. I almost sneered at him to sit the fuck down again before my father’s angry scowl slackened and dissolved into the closest thing to a smirk he could manage.

“It had better be good,” he said, his voice slightly calmer.

He must have realized there was no way in hell I would disturb his feeding unless itwasthe best news he’d ever heard in his life, but I knew, better than anyone in the room, that if he didn’t like the news, my head would roll. Quite literally.

“How does ‘I know the whereabouts of a mysterious and elusive succubus you’ve been chasing for longer than I’ve been alive’ sound? Good enough for you?”

Father’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You lie.” He looked over to Jax for confirmation, and I felt the muscle in my jaw twitch in irritation.

“This was my plan, Father, my operation,” I reminded him, unable to mask the anger creeping through my tone. “Bishop Knight merely allowed his agents to assist. This wasmychance, not his.”

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