Incubus (60 page)

“Oh?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level. “For how long?”

“Permenantly, I expect,” Angela said. She adjusted her glasses and gave me a warm smile. “You

look to be about the same age as my son. Come here, dear. Let me introduce you.”

Angela gestured past us. Lucas and I turned, noticing for the first time that a blond boy was sitting

at the edge of the Guard’s bay window. He sat, arms crossed, a patchwork of darkening bruises

covering one side of his face. I stifled a gasp. It was Seth.

“They go to my school, mom,” Seth said. He walked forward, blushing hotly.

“Ah, you’ve met?” Angela’s eyes sharpened, an unvoiced question hanging in the air. She turned

to study Lucas critically.

Seth’s blush deepened. “It wasn’t him. Actually,” Seth glanced at me out of the corner of his eye,

“they kind of broke it up.”

Angela’s expression warmed instantly. “Well, then, you have my thanks.” She gestured at a pair of

empty chairs against a wall. “Pull up a seat. We’ve got serious business to discuss.”

After we were settled in our seats, Hale leaned forward. “You were saying something about

precedent?” he prompted Angela.

“Yes, precisely.” Angela nodded toward the paper in Thane’s hands. “The most recent recorded

encounter with a female Thrall was almost 400 years ago. And it happened right here, in Puerto

Escondido.” She rustled through a few more sheets of tightly scrawled notes. “Roughly the same time

as the Guard’s only recorded encounter with—where is that page? Ah, here.” She looked at Thane

triumphantly. “1628.”

“You’re not saying you think—” Gretchen looked to Thane for confirmation.

Thane took the new sheet of notes from Angela and scanned it for a long moment. “Interesting,” he

murmured. “Of course, you’re assuming a great many things. But it would explain some of the

peculiarities surrounding this case.”

Lucas and I shared a bewildered look.

Dad noticed our confusion. “I think you’d better go back to the beginning, Linwood.”

Angela looked up. “Pardon?” Dad nodded his head in our direction, and she pursed her lips. “Yes,

of course. I was intrigued when Terrance told me your group had encountered a woman in Thrall,” she

explained. “It’s been a sort of side project of my work for the Guard, researching curiosities in our

history.”

“Curiosities?” Lucas said. “That
curiosity
almost killed Braedyn and me.”

“I didn’t realize,” she glanced at Hale. “You mean to tell me these children faced an attacking

Thrall on their own and survived?”

“Would you believe it wasn’t the first time?” Hale answered. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed

Seth turn to give us an appraising glance. “We take their training seriously,” Hale said.

“Apparently.” Angela adjusted her glasses. “Perhaps Seth could join you for some lessons?”

“Mom,” Seth looked pained. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“I think a few pointers in the self-defense department might do you a world of good.”

“A few pointers won’t help me,” he murmured. He looked so miserable, I felt my heart go out to

him.

“I’m confused,” I said, pulling Angela’s focus back to the subject at hand. “Why is it such a big

deal that the Thrall was a woman?”

“Excellent question. I assume you know how a Thrall is created?” Angela asked.

“I do,” I said, blushing. It was one of the first things I’d learned about Lilitu, back before I knew I

was one of them. Lucas had explained it to me; the first time a Lilitu spends the night with a man, she

weakens him severely, but it is possible for him to recover over time. The second time, he becomes a

Thrall; a walking shell of a man bound to obey the Lilitu without the will to fight or question her

orders. There is no recovery possible, once you’ve become a Thrall. The third time a Lilitu sleeps with

a man, he dies.

“Then you know that a Lilitu’s power begins with desire,” Angela explained, as though she were

telling me how to make a peanut butter sandwich. “And as far as we can tell, the Thrall who attacked

you had been a happily married, heterosexual woman.”

Angela watched my expression as I mulled this over. When the realization hit me, it was suddenly

so obvious. “So, the Lilitu that attacked her, it was male?”

“Very good, Miss Murphy,” Angela said. “Rare as he may be, a male Lilitu is known colloquially

by another name; incubus.”

“Wait,” Lucas breathed. “You mean an incubus is here? In Puerto Escondido?”

“That is my theory, yes.”

“How do we fight it?” Gretchen asked. “Is he like a regular Lilitu? Will I be able to spot him?”

Angela spread her hands helplessly. “I wish I could answer your questions, but I’m afraid we

simply don’t know. We need to try to reconstruct as much of the history of your mission as possible. It

seems tied to this incubus somehow. I hope, if I can piece together what happened, I can fill in some

of the gaps in our knowledge. Seth,” Angela turned to her son, beckoning him closer, “did you get a

chance to take another set of rubbings in the mission?”

Seth opened his backpack and pulled out a stack of ruffled pages. Some of them were still edged in

dirt. He laid them out on the coffee table gingerly.

“What do you see?” Angela asked the group.

Hale frowned. “The stations of the cross. Hand carved. Typical of Catholic missions.”

“Yes, but that’s only part of the story,” Angela said. “Look here.” She pointed to a collection of

figures in the skinny border of one of the carvings. The group leaned closer.

“I’ll be damned,” Thane murmured. “What is this?”

“Well, keep in mind that the first set of rubbings Seth collected for me were rougher, so it was

hard to make out but,” she bent over the rubbings, concentrating. “My goodness. Well done, Seth.

There’s quite a bit more detail here. Yes, I think—” She fell silent, absorbed in her thoughts.

“Linwood?” Hale prompted.

She looked up, as if suddenly remembering we were there. “I believe there’s a second story being

told in the borders of these carvings. A story about the missionaries and their fight against the Lilitu.”

As she narrated her version of the story, she pointed from one rubbing to the next. “You see here.

These are the monks who build the mission at Puerto Escondido. Notice the shields they carry? They

clearly believed they were here to protect something.”

The carving showed the unmistakable silhouette of the original mission sanctuary. Beneath the

carving of the sanctuary, I saw a rough circle and my blood ran cold. I was sure it was the seal. I

leaned closer for a better look as Angela continued her story.

“In the next carving, there is trouble. You can see here two distinct Lilitu.” Two figures stood side

by side, facing a row of monks with shields and swords at the ready. Angular, bat-like wings protruded

from both of their backs, and needle-like teeth ringed their mouths. “And—yes! I thought I noticed

something on the previous rubbing but here there’s really no doubt, is there?” Angela turned the

drawing around so her audience could better see the figures. She held a hand out to Thane. “Do you

mind?” He returned the notes she’d given him to look over. Angela scanned the page in silence for a

moment. “Yes, here it is. This is an account of a story told to a traveling friar by one of the monks of

this mission. One of only five survivors of the events, if we are to believe him. According to this

monk, the mission was attacked by two demons. Siblings.”

Angela stabbed her finger back at the rubbing. As I stared, it became clear. One of the Lilitu in the

carving had the curves of a beautiful woman, while the other had the triangular chest of a fit young

man.

“A sister and a brother,” Angela said. “The monk’s story seems consistent with the rest of these

carvings. There was a great fight against the Lilitu. The monks overpowered and possibly killed the

sister, but the brother escaped into the night.”

“What are you suggesting? That it’s the same incubus who attacked that woman in town?” Dad

asked.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Angela said. “I’m merely sharing the preliminary fruits of my

research into the mission. Whatever happened to that incubus was lost to history, I’m afraid. The friar

who recorded this monk’s tale moved on from the mission and the five surviving monks were never

heard from again. The later stations of the cross that these monks carved, the ones that presumably

continued their story, they were defaced long ago.”

“So despite all your research, we know very little,” Thane said.

“There is one additionally curious thing,” Angela said, pulling another rubbing from the bottom of

the pile. “You see here, on the carving of the last station of the cross? This is a common druidic

symbol for winter solstice, and here we have a full moon.”

“Which means?” Hale asked.

“Well, I don’t know what it means, but it appears to be some kind of pagan lunar calendar. That in

itself is curious, considering it was carved onto a Catholic religious image, presumably by a Catholic

monk.” Angela studied the paper thoughtfully.

“You have a theory,” Thane said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Angela gave Thane a small smile. “But until I’ve gathered more information, I’d rather not

share it. I’d hate to be wrong about this.”

“All right.” Hale stood, pacing to the living room’s great mantle. He ran a thumb along the scar

dividing his eyebrow—a souvenir from a fight he’d had with a Lilitu in his youth. I’d come to

recognize this gesture as a sign that Hale was wrestling with unpleasant thoughts. “If there is an

incubus in town, we need to be on our guard. Keep your eyes open. Until we know more we proceed

with extreme caution. I don’t want anyone stumbling blindly into more than they can handle.”

“Excellent advice for us all,” Angela said, glancing pointedly at Seth. “We can’t be too careful.”

“Speaking of which, we have rooms for you and Seth here,” Hale said.

“Oh, dear,” Angela winced. “That is very kind, but I’ve never done well in communal living

situations. I’ve already rented a small house in town. I think we’ll both be a bit more comfortable

there.”

Hale looked like he wanted to argue. Dad caught my eye.

“Why don’t you and Lucas take Seth over to our house,” Dad said. “Order a pizza. I have a feeling

we’re going to be here talking strategy for a while.”

Seth glanced at Angela hopefully. She looked resigned, but she nodded permission. “At least order

something with vegetables on it, if you don’t mind.”

Seth noticed me watching him and looked away quickly. My eyes lingered over the marks on his

cheek. He’d have a tender black eye in the morning.

But it could have been much worse,
a voice inside me said.

I stepped onto the Guard’s front porch, drawing my sweater tighter around me. Lucas closed the door,

and Seth let out a long breath.

“And here I thought I was the only kid whose life’s been ruined by the Guard.”

“How do you mean?” Lucas asked.

“Oh, come on,” Seth’s smile was tinged with bitterness. “They see Lilitu around every corner. I

can’t go to a movie because a Lilitu might be prowling the theater. No, I get to spend my afternoons

taking rubbings of old carvings in deserted churches because they might hold the key to a centuries-

old mystery about who-gives-a-crap. Why should I care if some horny loser ends up in bed with a

demon? Right?”