Page 37 of Cursed Shadows

“This is true,” Lamia states with a quick nod as she begins walking around the war table, looking down at our map and strategically placed pawns with little interest. She runs her hand down the side of the table and pauses over the pawn of the Kingof Shadow. Lifting the iron piece, she smiles at it as though she’s amused. Then she looks up at me and shakes her head.

“You are far more… physically impressive in real life,” she remarks.

I don’t respond, but I also notice she doesn’t return the piece to the table. Instead, she palms it and continues pacing.

“Yes, I am well-trained in the art of seduction,” she goes on, looking pointedly at Cambion.

“Trained?” he asks facetiously. “There’s notrainingwhere a Succubus is concerned. You were born with your abilities.”

She laughs a throaty sound. “Regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that I have, through my own wiles, become close to Variant.”

“And how did you manage that?” presses Cambion. “You just said yourself he destroyed your people.”

She nods and her eyebrows reach for the ceiling of the tent. “Yes, he did destroy my people and he took me as his prisoner.”

“And yet you were still able to get close to him?” he laughs acidly, shaking his head at me as if to ask if I believe this drivel.

So far, I do.

“You said yourself a Succubus’ power is in her ability to seduce?” Lamia questions Cambion, watching him with a strange little smile. Her expression suggests she knows something Cambion doesn’t.

“Yes,” he coughs out.

“Over the many months I spent as Variant’s captive, I watched him. I learned. I came to understand what caused him unrest and what pleased him.”

“You watched Variant, a king, from your cell in his dungeon as his prisoner?” Cambion turns to me and frowns. “We are wasting valuable time listening to this nonsense when we could be strategizing.”

“I was never placed in his dungeon,” Lamia nearly interrupts him. She closes the distance between them and smiles as his gaze settles on her breasts. He clears his throat and angrily forces his eyes to hers.

“Then where were you placed—” Cambion starts, but she shuts him up quickly as her gaze drops from his face to his crotch. He clears his throat again.

“Variant found a use for me,” she replies in a deep, sultry voice that characterizes her kind.

“You’re telling us you were Variant’s whore?” Cambion demands, glaring at her.

“I was Variant’slover. And, in the course of being his lover, I listened and I paid attention. I grew to understand him—his motivations, his weaknesses, as well as his strengths. Over the many months he used my body, he began to lower his defenses. He opened up to me, speaking to me about those things he could not or chose not to discuss with his men.”

“Next I suppose you’ll tell us Variant fell in love with you?” Cambion’s tone is mocking.

“No, no.” Lamia shakes her head and a laugh escapes her lips. When she looks up again, the smile falls off her mouth. “I do not believe Variant capable of love.”

“Perhaps she knows him better than you think,” I admit with a chuckle. Cambion glares at me.

Lamia smiles in my direction, dropping her gaze demurely. The coquettish subservience is all an act, however, for she is a demon and as powerful as either Cambion or myself.

“Variant began to trust me,” she continues as she resumes her pacing around the war table. “And over the many months of my incarceration, his trust led to… friendship, I suppose you could term it.” She finds the pawn that represents Variant and picks it up, inspecting it. “And now, I am free to come and go as I please,” she says as she places the piece in the center of whatrepresents the ocean. “I am no longer Variant’s prisoner. But I have chosen to stay with him to further prove my loyalty.”

“Yet here you are,” Cambion cuts in.

“Yet here I am,” she repeats on a sigh.

“Why?” I ask.

She looks up at me then and nods. “All these many months, I have sat with my anger and sorrow. I have learned what it means to hate, to resent. But rather than acting upon my fury and hatred, I’ve allowed it to simmer just below the surface as I bide my time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “Prior to my incarceration at the hands of Variant, I would never have described myself as a patient woman.”

“And now?” I wonder.

With a laugh, she begins her rounds again. This time, she pauses in front of Cambion’s iron piece sitting on the table, but before she can touch it, Cambion steals the piece himself. He reminds me of a petulant child, unwilling to share.

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