Succubus

Chapter 12: Grabbing a Snack

Chapter 12: Grabbing a Snack

Tara stretched out onto her bed and let out a content sigh. It had been an interesting day. She'd woken up and had acted on instinct from there. She knew how to make an outfit out of whatever was in her closet. Her hair looked good whether it was bedhead, damp, or styled. In conversations she knew when to smile or laugh, and which questions to ask to make someone feel completely at ease. She knew it the same way a bee knows to build in hexagons.

Tara's mother had been immediately suspicious. She'd given Tara sideways looks at breakfast, and after school Tara found a family counseling pamphlet on her mom's desk. Tara called the therapist and explained in a pleasant voice that her mom was worried about Tara getting older. The doctor agreed and didn't seem too upset about losing two-hundred an hour.

At school Tara charmed teachers into learning her name. People made way for her in the hallways, and a few had even invited her to join their after school clubs. Tara had smiled and said she'd think about it, which set off a bidding war for her time.

Tara knew she'd be too busy for extracurriculars, not that getting into college would be difficult now. She was confident that she could get in anywhere that had face to face interviews. Her mind turned toward finding Adriel.

She could smell him somewhere in Bridgeton. There was a new smell in the air that Tara had never smelled before in Bridgeton. It was something like a mix of marble and incense, and she got the feeling it could only come from an angel. She felt him the most near Bridgeton's three churches, but so far he hadn't made an appearance. Plus, being around the churches gave Tara a headache.

After a long day searching Tara returned home. After dinner she went upstairs and found out that she was still hungry. Her stomach felt empty, as though she had fasted for an entire day. For the first time since her change Tara felt panicked. Did demons eat human food? Tara imagined herself starving to death because she hadn't bothered to ask Vine what demons ate.

The internet had some answers. According to myth, incubi and succubi feed off the sexual energy of humans. Tara wondered how she'd pull that off secretly in such a small town. Again, she wondered if a bus ride across state lines might help.

It seemed like too big a decision to make all at once. Tara decided to sleep on it and figure something out in the morning. She went to bed hungry.

Tara's second lucid dream was somewhat different from the first. She was suspended a mile above Bridgeton looking down on the rows of houses. The moon made everything silver, and slowly Tara began to recognize landmarks. It was strange to see paths she'd walked a thousand times in a new way.

From up above Tara noticed a smell. It was like pecan pie mixed with ice cream. The smell was impossible to ignore, especially after going to bed hungry. Tara felt herself drawn toward it like a fish on a hook.

The house in question was a small ranch in a corner of town Tara had not paid attention to before. Tara drifted through the window and hovered above a queen sized bed. A woman with a slight build was curled up under a pile of covers.

The scene shifted. Tara was sitting on a bench in a long hallway. The wall across from her was covered in paintings, some of them behind velvet ropes.

"Who are you?" an accented voice asked.

Tara turned and saw that she was sitting next to a middle aged woman. The woman had lank yellow hair and a face that seemed tired down to its bones. There was a small spark of confusion in her otherwise dull eyes.

"I'm Tara. Is this your dream?"

The woman looked around. "I guess it must be. This was where my husband took me on our first date. A few months later it's where he proposed."

"Oh." Tara looked around. "Is he here?"

The woman shook her head. "He's busy with work. He drives the sixteen wheels."

Tara felt something, a feeling she was unaccustomed to. She was like a hawk circling a dove. "You have a nice accent, where's it from?"

The woman smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was born in Volgograd, but my family moved here during perestroika."

"Why would anyone move to Bridgeton?"

The woman laughed. "I ask myself that a lot. But there is the church and my son gets to play basketball." She stood up and began moving down the hallway. "Do you mind if we look around? It's been so long since I've been here."

"Of course we can," Tara said.

"I'm Victoria by the way."

Together they walked through the museum. If Victoria knew a fact about a painting she shared it with Tara. If neither of them liked a painting Tara would reach out and tilt the frame. There were no security guards to tell her not to. Victoria would slap her on the wrist and put the painting back. Tara laughed and rubbed her wrist, but it didn't hurt. Victoria couldn't hit hard.

At the end of the day they sat together on a stone bench outside the museum. They sipped ten-dollar museum milkshakes and watched the sun slide down between the buildings. The shadows were getting closer.

"I had a very nice day with you Tara," Victoria said. "When I wake up I'm going to call my husband and ask him how he's doing."

Victoria reached over and gave Tara a hug, the way an aunt hugs a niece. Seconds later Tara was awake.

She wasn't hungry anymore. It might have been her imagination but her hair seemed shinier too. Tara smelled her breath, and it smelled like pecan pie and milkshake.