Page 39 of The Succubi's Choice

In order to go out in public, they have to don heavy disguises with often uncomfortable facial prosthetics, and therefore usually don’t interact with humans that much.

It helps that they don’t need traditional food or money, and have some sort of bond to the land they live on. Most don’t leave the three or so square miles they were born on, and most find other ways to survive.

But, like many things, the internet brought socialization and some semblance of integration and jobs.

“We need to stop by Flasks on the way there, he likes mulberry wine,” Katya says, scooting off Miri’s desk and grabbing her briefcase from the other room.

“I don’t care, as long as I can get ice cream tonight,” Miri calls after her, to no response.

* * *

After an uneventful tripto Flasks where all Miri gets to do is exchange a knowing nod with the store owner, it’s an excruciatingly long drive to Simi Valley, and Katya drives like she’s expecting some sort of bad news at the end.

“Well, at least we know he’s alive,” Miri says, after about twenty minutes of totally silent driving.

“That is not exactly helpful,” Katya replies, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. “I don’t know why...”

She trails off, and it’s hard to see her like this. Like something has changed and like Miri should know how to respond and how to fix it.

“It’s hard when people you’ve worked with for a decade stop talking to you,” Katya says, her voice soft. “People just stopped trusting me, and I can’t put my finger on why.”

Privately, Miri knows it’s because the demigods swung through and cleared out such a huge chunk of the population, and the Organization did very little to protect them. And, even though she was ultimately involved in taking them down, Katya is still a human, and doesn’t really understand the fear.

“Well, hopefully we’ll be able to chat?” Miri says, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers as Katya makes another insane lane change. “Do we just need to make sure they sign paperwork?”

“And make sure the humans aren’t being taken advantage of.” Absentminded, Katya gets into the proper lane to switch freeways, like this is a drive she used to make all the time. “A neighbor, a human neighbor, called in possible spousal abuse. Has been hearing screams, called the police, who called us.”

As the view outside the window goes more to golden farmland, Miri raises an eyebrow at the random horses on the fields. Getting out of Los Angeles is shocking in how quickly it can turn into the boonies, and as a creature of urban comforts, it crawls under her skin.

The population density out here is just not enough to support succubi, and something deep in her psyche knows this. Knows that, unless she had humans willing to sacrifice their health, she would slowly whittle away and starve, over a period of a few years. She knows this, and her instincts make her want to yank the car over and turn it around to go back home.

But instead she stares out the window, the sense of dread filling her stomach.

“Why’d Lundy change his mind?” Katya asks, quick, as if grasping onto any conversation with both hands.

“He didn’t,” Miri says, leaning her head over to look at her friend. “He thinks it’s stupid, but someone deep in the Organization decided it.”

“Well that’s foreboding,” Katya says, matter of fact. “Is this about that one who attacked Lundy?”

“Probably,” Miri says, “I mean, he texting me now. Which is great.”

She pulls off the freeway, and it’s even more rural than they usually have to go out to. Hay bales dot the fields, and the houses are either larger mansions on vast tracts of land, or half destroyed shacks covered with graffiti.

They turn down a dirt road, and Miri’s skin crawls even more. There’s just not enough people and not enough buildings and she would die out here, a slow and painful death.

She’s seen pictures of rural succubi before, and any beauty is overshadowed by gaunt cheekbones and an unhealthy sheen in their eyes. Like the pictures of humans in the Great Depression, they just look desperate. Unlike humans, they look like predators.

Katya side eyes her again, because she knows Miri well enough to know when she’s uncomfortable, even if she can’t figure out why.

They pull up to one of the mansions, with its prefabricated exteriors to give the illusion of extreme wealth. In the city, the house would be worth millions upon millions, but out here, where land is cheap and materials cheaper, the biggest expense is probably air conditioning.

Without turning off the car, Katya pulls out her paperwork, already starting to check off things and make lists.

“How loud was the screaming if neighbors heard it?” Miri says, craning her neck out the window. The nearest house would be more than a city block away.

“Good question.” Katya double checks her shoulder holsters, before smiling grimly. “Let’s go check.”

* * *

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