to push my door open, I glanced down the hall at Vyra’s room. Something pulled me away from my own bedroom, and I silently padded towards her door and twisted the knob.
I half expected to see her flopped across her glittering pink bed, pencil or sewing needle in hand, but of course her room was empty. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, taking another deep breath and looking around.
It was funny how Vyra could fill a space so entirely. She’d only been living in the Nightside with us for a month and a half, and in that time, she’d turned this one room into a sparkling bastion.
And I’d been so blind to the problems she kept balled up inside her, her constant fear of being taken, her feelings of helplessness.
Some friend I was.
I let my fingers trail over a rainbow of neatly folded silks, over the rough cotton skin of a dress-form, and on her dresser as I walked to her bed and sank down on the thick nest of blankets.
There was a sketchbook lying open, right where she’d left it before she’d been abducted. Harsh black lines covered the white page, but I averted my eyes before I fully saw the picture and flipped the sketchbook’s cover closed.
Even though she wasn’t here, I didn’t want to spy on her innermost thoughts and feelings. I just wanted to sit quietly for a moment in a place that felt frozen in time, like she might come bursting through the door at any minute. Everything about her room felt happy, just the way she was. The smell of her perfume still lingered in the air, the scent of spun sugar and jasmine petals.
I couldn’t imagine that same friend being terrorized by the Dragon.
I wouldn’t imagine it.
In fact, I was going to do something about it, broken wing or not.
I carefully laid back on her bed, angling myself so I didn’t crush my wing, and stared up at the diamond-studded embroidery of the canopy overhead. Sarai moved, just a little flutter in my belly, and I placed my hand on my stomach, thinking aloud to her.
“She’s a succubus,” I whispered. “According to her, a succubus who hasn’t reached her full potential. She’ll need weapons to survive.”
Unlike her sisters, Vyra hadn’t yet fed on enough sexual energy to be able to achieve her full form, a beautiful being of claws and spiraling horns. She was still a weak flyer, though she made up for it with sheer enthusiasm.
“And Belial told me the succubi are the protectors of women.” I frowned up at the canopy. “If she’s truly their sister, it would be their sworn duty to protect her. To help me find her.”
The only problem was finding and talking to them, if they’d even hear me out. Asking them to go looking for her was no small task, especially when so much of Dis needed help right now.
The tiniest creak of the door’s hinges caught my attention, but I couldn’t bring myself to sit up. I felt tired down to the bone despite the healing magic coursing through me, like I could sink right through Vyra’s bed into the floor and keep going.
“I thought I’d find you in here, angel.”
The rough purr of Belial’s voice was a welcome one. I heard the door close, and a moment later felt his weight sinking onto the bed next to me.
“I’ve just been thinking,” I said, reaching out and groping around until I found his thigh and squeezed it for comfort.
Belial raised an eyebrow, looking down at me. “Dangerous business.” He chuckled when I swatted at him and helped me sit up. Having one wing bound made me feel ungainly and off-balance.
“I was thinking of going to the succubi.” I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and looked down at my hand against his arm. It was paler against his bronzed skin, and still streaked with ash and soot.
“That so?” He rubbed a bit of the ash on my skin, leaving a gray smear behind.
From anyone else, the question would’ve sounded loaded, but as always Belial just really wanted to know why. I was glad he’d been the one to find me lurking up here in a depressive mood.
“Yes. She’s one of them, and they’re the protectors of women; it stands to reason that if anyone has a will or a way to track Vyra, it’s them. But…” I leaned in harder, managing a small smile. “I