Chapter 2: Blood, Scent, and a Succubus's Vow
The bell above the door of Ye Olde Unmentionables jingled, a sound too cheerful for the weight Katie carried. She shouldered her way in, the scent hitting her like a wall: old lace dust, bergamot candles, and beneath it all, a thick, musky perfume of human sweat and arousal. It was a shop that smelled of secrets, and right now, it was loud with them.
The main room was a dim, candlelit cave of velvet and satin. Vivian and her mother Cordelia stood at opposite ends, still as statues. Vivian, in her leather jacket and jeans, looked starkly out of place amidst the frills, her head tilted back, eyes closed. Cordelia, the picture of a blonde bombshell in a silk kimono, wore a similar expression of serene concentration. Their lips were slightly parted. Katie watched, a detached part of her mind fascinated, as the very air between them seemed to thicken, charged with a pale, shimmering energy that flowed from the curtained fitting rooms toward their waiting forms.They were drawing it in, drinking it without moving a muscle. Feeding.
From behind the heavy velvet drapes at the back came the raw, unfiltered soundscape.A woman’s sharp, gasping cry—Amy. A man’s low, strained groan—Jason.The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin, frantic and building. A muttered, “Fuck, Amy, you’re so tight,” followed by a broken, “Please, yes, right there, right there.”
Katie dropped into a tufted armchair, the velvet cool through her jeans. She crossed her legs, her gaze fixed on the shuddering curtains.She’d walked in on the afterglow before, but never the main event. The sounds were visceral, obscene, and utterly human.
The tempo increased, the slaps becoming harder, faster.Jason was cursing a steady, guttural stream now. “Take it, take my cock, you gorgeous fucking girl.” Amy’s replies dissolved into wordless, high-pitched shrieks that hitched with every thrust.
“I’m gonna come,” Jason grunted, the sound raw.“Inside me,” Amy begged, her voice ragged with want. “Do it, Jason, fill me up, please!”
A final, brutal series of impacts, a shouted, “Oh god!”, and a long, trembling wail from Amy that melted into sobbing breaths. Then silence, save for the heavy panting of two spent bodies.
The curtains on the left rustled first.Amy emerged, her willowy frame looking boneless. Her blonde hair was stuck to her damp forehead, her cheeks violently flushed. She clutched the front of her crumpled sundress, which was clearly all she wore beneath. Jason followed, buttoning his jeans, his face slack with satiation.He blinked, adjusting to the low light, and spotted Katie.He flushed a deeper red.
Before they could speak, the right-hand curtains parted. Yukio stepped out, bold as brass, her dark hair a glorious mess, her lipstick smeared. She was wearing a stunning black lace bustier and nothing else, her curvaceous body gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat. Freddie Highmore followed, looking deliciously rumpled, his collar askew. He ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish, proud grin on his face.
“Katie!” Yukio’s eyes lit up, her voice still husky.“You just missed the party. Freddie here was just demonstrating the tensile strength of Victorian-era corsetry. It’s more flexible than you’d think.”
Freddie coughed, adjusting his cufflinks.
Amy found her voice, squeaking, “Katie! We didn’t know you were—”
“Lena’s alive,” Katie said, the words cutting through the post-coital haze like a shard of glass. She didn’t move from the chair.“I saw her.At the Dark Market. I need help.”
The room froze.Amy’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Jason stiffened, his protective instinct shifting focus instantly. Yukio’s playful grin vanished, replaced by a fierce, sharp intensity.Freddie’s expression turned sober, attentive.Vivian’s eyes snapped open.
They were pure, depthless black for a second, no white, no iris, just pools of liquid shadow. Then they receded, leaving her familiar, anxious green. She turned her head toward Katie, and a slender, dark tongue flicked out to wet her lips, as if tasting the air.
“I can sense it on you,” Vivian murmured, her timid voice layered with a deeper, hungrier resonance. “A ghost that isn’t a ghost. A wish made sharp and real.” She took a step forward, the predatory grace at odds with her usual apologetic slouch. “Your hope… it’s fucking delicious, Katie. It aches.”
Cordelia glided over, her kimono whispering.She placed a calming hand on her daughter’s shoulder.“Easy, dear. Savor, don’t gorge.” She turned her knowing smile on Katie. “A lost love, returned?How thrilling. And how dangerous.”
“It was her,” Katie insisted, standing up now, facing them all.“Her profile.Her scent.That cheap drugstore spray she always wore. It was in the alcove by the London portal. The one that’s glitching.”
“Rainbor told me it was unstable,” Yukio said, her mind working fast. “So maybe it pulled her through? Or a version of her?”
“Or it’s a trap,” Jason said, his voice quiet but firm. “Something using your memory as bait.”
“I don’t care,” Katie said, and the raw truth of it silenced any further argument. “Trap, ghost, clone, I don’t give a fuck.I need to know.I need to find her. Vivian,” she turned to the half-succubus, “you can track this, right? You can taste a lie. You can… hunt.”
Vivian looked pained, the hunger in her eyes warring with her innate caution.“I can sense strong emotional signatures.Obsession.Desire. Grief like yours leaves a stain. If this… Lena… is out there, and she’s feeling anything strongly, I could find the trail.” She glanced at the fitting rooms, then back at Katie. “But the Dark Market isn’t safe for a solo hunt, especially not around a broken portal. We’ll need more than just a nose.”
“Dale,” Cordelia said simply.
Vivian nodded, a flicker of warmth cutting through the hunger at the mention of his name.“He’s in town.Between contracts. He’s got the muscle, and he knows how to handle… weird shit.” She took a deep breath, her decision solidifying.“Okay. Okay, I’ll help you.”
“We’re in too,” Yukio said immediately. Freddie nodded beside her.“Us too,” Amy said, gripping Jason’s hand. “Just tell us what to do.”
Katie felt a surge of something perilously close to relief. It was quickly doused by a fresh wave of grim determination. “Thank you,” she said, the words rough.Vivian was already shrugging out of her leather jacket, moving with a new purpose. “We meet tonight.My place.I’ll call Dale. We’ll need a plan, and we’ll need to move before whatever this is decides to move first.”
Cordelia smiled, a slow, ancient curve of her lips.“Go, my dear. I’ll hold the fort.” Her gaze swept over the shop, the lingering sexual energy, the blushing couples. “Business, after all, is still booming.”
As the group filed out, the bell jingling again, Katie took one last look back. Cordelia stood alone in the dim, perfumed light, a beautiful spider in a web of lace and longing. The air still thrummed with the echoes of fucking and the sweet, desperate hope of a girl chasing a ghost.
She turned and stepped into the cool Chicago afternoon, the taste of burnt sugar and regret still on her tongue.
She turned and stepped into the cool Chicago afternoon, the taste of burnt sugar and regret still on her tongue. The busy street outside Ye Olde Unmentionables was a jarring transition from the velvet inner world, all blaring car horns and hurried pedestrians. Katie shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets, her mind replaying the wet sounds from behind the curtain, Vivian’s black eyes, the ferocious certainty in Yukio’s grin.A flash of denim in her peripheral vision snapped her head to the left.
There, across the street, leaning against a lamppost outside a closed bookstore, was Lena. Not a glimpse, not a ghostly flicker, but the solid, real shape of her in faded jeans and that same denim jacket. She was looking directly at Katie, her expression unreadable from this distance, a small, faint smile touching her lips. The world’s sound died into a muffled hum.Katie’s breath hitched.
“Lena!” The name tore from her, raw and loud.
She launched herself into the traffic, a cab’s horn shrieking as she dodged past its grille. She hit the opposite sidewalk running, eyes locked on the lamppost.Lena’s smile widened, a familiar, secret thing. Then she pushed off the pole and slipped into the narrow alley beside the bookstore, a slash of shadow between brick walls. Katie reached the alley mouth three seconds later.It was empty.Utterly. Just dumpsters and damp asphalt and a dead end of graffiti-tagged cinderblock. No doors, no fire escapes low enough to reach.The scent of old garbage and wet brick filled her nose. No bergamot.No vanilla.
“Fuck!” Her fist slammed against the brick wall, a sharp pain radiating up her arm that felt good, felt grounding. She leaned her forehead against the cool, rough surface, the frustration a physical weight on her shoulders.Her eyes slipped closed.
The memory crashed over her, immediate and visceral.It wasn’t the last time, but the first real time. Her dorm room, a single cave of chaos with band posters and textbooks on rudimentary alchemy. Lena stood just inside the closed door, looking nervous and breathtaking. The cheap overhead light made her messy dark hair look like a halo. “Your roommate’s really gone for the weekend?” Lena asked, her voice soft.“Yeah,” Katie said, her own voice thick. She crossed the small space, the world narrowing to the inches between them. She cupped Lena’s face, her thumb tracing the arch of a cheekbone.Lena’s breath hitched, her lips parting. The kiss started slow, a tentative exploration that quickly caught fire. Katie walked her backward until Lena’s knees hit the edge of the narrow bed.They fell together in a tangle of limbs and eager hands. Katie tasted the cheap gloss on Lena’s lips, felt the frantic beat of her heart under her palm. She pushed the cotton of Lena’s t-shirt up, exposing soft skin and a simple lace bra. Katie mouthed at her neck, sucking a mark just above her collarbone as Lena arched against her. “God, Katie,” Lena gasped, her fingers digging into Katie’s shoulders.
Katie peeled the bra off, took a peaked nipple into her mouth, and Lena cried out, her back bowing off the bed. The sounds were filthy, perfect: wet sucking, ragged breaths, the rustle of denim being shoved down. Katie’s fingers slid into Lena’s panties, finding her soaked, her clit hard and eager under her touch. She pushed two fingers inside, and Lena’s whole body clenched around her, hot and tight. “Yes, right there, fuck,” Lena chanted, her hips pumping against Katie’s hand. Katie fucked her with slow, deep thrusts, then faster, her own arousal a desperate throb between her legs. She could feel Lena’s orgasm building, a coiling tension that snapped. Lena came with a shattered cry, her inner muscles pulsing rhythmically around Katie’s fingers, her body trembling through the waves.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Katie whispered against her skin, breathless and awed.
“Hey.Earth to Boom Boom. You’re looking at that wall like you’re planning to demolish it with your mind.”
The voice, bright and familiar, sliced the memory to ribbons. Katie jerked back from the brick wall as if scalded, her face flooding with heat. Jan stood a few feet away, her short red hair a vivid shock against the grey alley, a canvas tote bag slung over her shoulder. Her head was cocked, green eyes sharp with concern.“You okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
Katie’s heart hammered, the phantom feel of Lena’s skin still electric on her fingertips. She opened her mouth.The truth bubbled up: I saw Lena.She’s here. She keeps disappearing.I need to find her. She looked at Jan—vivacious, powerful Jan with her ability to influence desires, her deep knowledge of the city’s magical undercurrents. Jan would mobilize everyone.Jan would take point. Jan would, with the best intentions, make it her mission.And Katie would be following, not leading. The need to own this, to be the one who found her, was a selfish, aching knot in her chest.She swallowed the confession. “It’s… complicated, Jan,” she managed, her voice roughened by the phantom kiss.“There’s something going on. Something from the Market.”
Jan studied her face for a long moment.The concern didn’t fade, but a layer of understanding settled over it. She nodded slowly, not pushing.“Complicated, huh?Okay. You know where to find me if complicated needs a flash-bang or a party.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder. “You thought about talking to Rebecca and Charley? I know Teach is busy with wedding stuff and the baby, but between her and our former Auditor, they probably know more about weird magical residuals than any of us. If it’s a ghost that isn’t a ghost, or a portal echo…”
It was a good suggestion.A smart one. They were detached, knowledgeable, and not prone to Jan’s brand of chaotic leadership.Katie latched onto it with relief. “Yeah,” she said, the word feeling more solid. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.”
“Cool.” Jan gave her a soft smile, one that said she knew she was being gently shut out and wasn’t offended.“Go be complicated, Boom Boom. Just don’t blow up the city without me.” She turned with a little wave and merged back into the foot traffic.
Katie stood alone in the alley mouth, the echoes of Lena’s climax and Jan’s words overlapping in her skull. She took a deep, steadying breath of city air—exhaust, fried food, concrete.Decision made. She had a team coalescing: Vivian’s hunger, Dale’s muscle, Amy and Yukio’s loyalty, and now the potential for Rebecca and Charley’s insight. She pushed off the wall and strode with renewed purpose toward the side street where she’d parked her battered van, its explosion-themed bumper stickers a promise of controlled chaos.