“You knew Ed Clark? Did the tribunal know this?”
“No.”
“And if it is found out?”
“I don't know.” She looked down. “I will be held accountable. And with the end of my days, I will answer for my sins.”
“Interesting. How can a succubus sin?”
He drew back and held her hands. They looked into each others eyes.
“I am flesh and blood and magic. My food is fruit and flesh, but also emotion. What better place than prisons to find emotions, passions, running high and wild? As a specter I drifted among them and had many a good meal. In doing so I felt the minds of those feeding me, and found horrors, debauchery, vengeance, and desire. It was easy hunting. I didn't have to go deep into their minds to trigger a meal. I didn't want to stay either, because the environment was so depressing. Then I came across Ed.”
She drew back and arraigned herself on the sand, hands on her lap. Fred did the same.
“He was impassioned, but for different reasons. I was curious so I lingered. I took the time to look into his mind and see where that passion came from. His desire was to remember his family. I saw that he was trying to draw them, so he was trying to remember them. So I helped. I would visit from time to time, and help him dream, I would dig out joyous events from the recesses of his mind, so that he could remember the color and sparkle of her eyes, the shimmer of her hair, her laugh, the small scar on her cheek, her crooked finger she broke as a child. Her moles. Her earlobes. Her manicure. The fold of her clothes. On and on, and for his daughter too. And with those freshened memories, he drew, and he painted.”
She paused. Her eyes were drying.
“In my long existence, humankind have simply been a source of food. They've been of no interest to me beyond such as a honeycomb to a beekeeper. If their passionate, they're food. If they're not passionate, make them so and eat. That's it. But Ed drew me into his life, and at the end, I knew and understood what you and he were doing, and why. So I petitioned to be your executioner, and that duty was granted to me. The succubus on the jury could not be so because of her service. And for all I am to do to you, I won't.”
“What, then?”
“My place is at the head of the table, to hold you between my breasts, to cradle your head, and to walk through your mind. Instead of corruption, I will hold you tight to my bosom and bring forth every joy I can find in you. Whatever agony is put upon you, I will make it delight, a pleasure, a bliss. All that I can for as long as I can until there is no more of you to sustain life. At that point you must die. But I will not drain it from you. Instead, all the pain I kept from you will be released as a single strike, as a mountain boulder crushing a house. You will have a massive stroke. It will destroy your brain in an instant, and so your spirit will be freed to it's fate. What remains will be consumed, but you won't be there. It is all I can do.”
She looked toward the horizon again. The moonlight flickered on the gentle waves.
“You asked how I sin. My life is of oaths and promises, duties and obligations. Such is the currency of my kind. That I violate them is to curse myself. And that I petitioned to be your executioner, I did so with full intent of shielding you. So I sin.” She paused and took a few breaths. “But I didn't attend the trial with that in mind. I heard the testimony and evidence. I remembered your treatment of Ed Clarke. I knew that I helped bring joy to his life, not merely absorbed it from him. And then, after the verdict, I heard what you said: 'If this is the price for doing the right thing, then so be it.'”
She turned to face him. “There I decided. I choose to make my life anew, that I not be a parasite, but a builder where I can. That I might help inspire. That I might help soothe the miserable. That at the very least, I could comfort the dying. I decided to comfort you, because now I had a duty. Now I have a purpose.”
“So you would be a muse?” he smiled.
“Where I can.” She smiled back. “Yes, it's vain and I have much to learn, but who can do anything but that they start doing?”
Fred reached out to hold her hand again. She squeezed back. “The journey of a thousand miles,” he said.
“Yes. And if I am found out, so may I die well. I will pay the price for doing the right thing. And may some tiny part of the world be better for the attempt.”
They spent some time sitting quietly on the sand. Fred turned around and lay down beside her. She shifted and lay down beside him. They looked toward the setting moon.
“Did you have anything good to eat on your honeymoon?”
“Yes – shrimp tempura. It was so tender it just about vanished after you crunched the shell. There were some great wines as well.”
He noticed a new scent – the smell of food. Off to his side was a tray on the sand, with a platter of tempura and a bottle of wine with glasses.
“All this is your memory. Let me be Elaine for you, and I will be. Let me wander your mind that I may know your joys to share tonight, and so I can protect you tomorrow. Whatever may please you, I will be. This is your night, and your desire.” Pelieu put her hand on his chest.
“Permit that you not defile the memory of my wife with false memories. Let me keep to my faith and my honor, such as it is. Go wherever you need in my mind while I sleep that you may be prepared. Let me have honest rest tonight.” He held her hand.
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die.”
Fred gazed into the dark sky. The setting moon was orange, silhouetting clouds on the horizon.
“Do your duty,” he replied.
Pelieu rolled to her side and snuggled next to him, placing a knee over his thigh, and her arm across his chest. He shifted his arm around her to make his shoulder a pillow for her head. He held her hand. Together they drank in the starlight.
The original story continues
here. Enjoy!