Tears of Blood by Simone Beaudelaire Page B

know what I
was seeing. I didn’t want to bother you if it turned out to be nothing.
Since then, I’ve been poring over our library." She waved a clawed
hand at a messy jumble of books and scrolls tossed haphazardly in and around
several niches carved in the stone wall beside them. "The more I have
studied the prophecies, the more convinced I become that it does not refer to
you as mother of the creature, but as ancestor. Just suppose," Jezebel
continued,  "the incubus had already been born, not to you but to
one of your daughters..."
    "Who?" Lilith demanded.
    Salome did not wait to hear the
answer. Tucking the baby safely into the cradle she’d placed in that
alcove centuries ago, she vanished.
    ***
    Josiah sat upright in bed, panting.
The darkness of the boys’ dormitory pressed in on him like a physical
touch. What on earth was wrong? He felt... dirty. As though something
disgusting had touched him. Had he been dreaming? He took a slow deep breath
and tried to remember. At first, the dream had been pleasant. The recurring
image he’d had since early childhood. A touchably soft female figure in a
soothing shade of pale rose, who glittered like sunlight on water, if water was
pink, wrapped warm arms around him and sang. He loved those dreams. They always
left him feeling great. But this time it had changed. The pink figure had
turned poisonous green and become snake-like. Cool scaly coils had replaced
embracing arms, and a forked tongue had whispered scandalous suggestions in his
ear before licking every inch of his body. Josiah gagged. What was wrong with
him? Why had he dreamed that? He shuddered in disgust despite the arousal which
still pounded through his body.
    ***
    Sarahi stretched out under the orange sheet and buried her nose in the
soft cotton. Twenty years since Lucien had been in this bed with her, and she
still liked to pretend she could smell him there. She had hoped, after so long,
her desire for him would fade and she would adjust to being alone again. She
hadn’t. The knowledge that her lover and her son were out there somewhere
preyed constantly on her mind. She burrowed deeper under the sheets. In the
evening, temperatures dropped significantly, and she was actually cold. If only
Lucien was here, his warm arms around her, his big body cradling hers in the
darkness as they rested, sated and happy. And Josiah. Her son was a man now, no
longer a baby. She’d watched over him all these years, in his dreams. She
knew how he’d grown, at last, to his full height. He hadn’t quite
matched his father, but was tall by human standards, with broad shoulders, but
skinny, gangly everywhere else. He looked more like an adolescent than an
adult, which surprised her. Succubae reached maturity in their early teens.
    Sarahi let her eyes slide closed. She needed rest. She couldn’t
afford to become exhausted. Too much rested on her ability to stay sharp. And
maybe in sleep she could visit Josiah again. Sometimes lately he’d been
resisting her presence in his dreams.
    Sarahi reached out with her senses, far to the north, where winter
reigned around a pile of white stones on a hilly prairie between pine trees.
    Bang! Bang!
    Sarahi jumped from the bed. Who could be at her door? For a mad moment,
as she crossed the tiny length of the travel trailer, she dared hope her dark
warrior would be there. Hope died as the flare of light from the dim bulb above
the entrance revealed her sister Salome, black hair wreathed the medium brown
skin of her naked body. Of all her sisters, this was one of the few she
trusted... a little. All were loyal to Lilith, and therefore all were suspect,
but Salome had some small affection for Sarahi, and had helped keep her out of
trouble a time or two. That bought her a tiny amount of leeway.
    "Welcome, sister," Sarahi said warmly, indicating the
interior of her trailer.
    "No time. Sarahi, you have to get out of here now. Mother knows.
She knows about your baby. She knows you betrayed her. She