Loving the Succubus

Epilogue (Marfa)

"My lady, are you well?" Daira asked, concern in her voice. Daira looked like a elongated, thinner version of Jeri Ryan, or so she was told.

After two nights in the Hospice to heal her broken ribs and nose. It was painful, but not an unusual thing to happen to her.

Marfa waved a dismissive hand at her childhood friend and servant. "I am not, but I will be. After all, it isn't just me now."

"It is finally over with Picasso?"

"Alas, my old friend, there is only one father of Tristan," Marfa admitted.

"You did not tell him you have a child?" Daira asked, horrified.

"I did not get the chance to! He asked me to be his bride in the ambulance!" Marfa exclaimed.

"Surely you declined!"

"He was so angered at it the nurses threw him from the vehicle cursing!"

A phone rang inside the bowels of the center console. Cursing, Marfa managed to grasp the phone with her left and greeted the person on the other line.

"Speak of the Abyss, and the Abyss speaks to you," Marfa murmured.

"Hey, darlin'," greeted a male voice with a Southern accent. Or, more precisely, North Carolina.

"Jeffery, I was about to call you!" Marfa said.

"You ok? I got word about you spending a couple of days in the hospital. Tristan is ok?" Concern tinged his voice.

"Twas me, alas. But a few bones were broken, I was fed cure-all and spent a night in the Hospice. Daira took care while I was indisposed."

"You know where I can get some of that cure-all?" Jeff joked.

"You lackwit, you are human," she teased.

"I know, I know," Jeff sighed. "Nobody put a gun to my head and made me Swanton Bomb off of really, really high places. I forget sometimes. Until I miss." She heard loud cheering in the background and imagined the Charismatic Enigma, the father of her eight year old son and secret lover of twenty-eight years, with his cell phone cocked to one ear backstage, rubbing his lower back. Where was TNA touring now, she wondered.

"What horrid paint have you placed on your face today?" Marfa joked.

"I'll send you a pic, in not much but that," he promised, his voice seductive.

"I ended it," she blurted out.

"And?"

"He asked me to be his bride."

"You said no, right?"

"Did you think me a fool?" Marfa scoffed. "There is only one father of Tristan, and I couldn't imagine that fool as him."

"I wish we didn't have to hide," Jeff complained.

"I know, my love, I know," Marfa sighed.

"Tell Tristan not to come to Raleigh this year. Things are going to get a little hot with Beth and I."

"Why?"

"You'll see," Jeff said mysteriously. "I love you. Can't wait to hold the sunset in my hands again."

"I love you too," Marfa said, and hung up on him.

Sighing, she paused, looking at herself in the vanity mirror.

A tall Asian woman with a septum ring and a stud through her lower lip looked back at her, but with a difference. The hair was still long and black, but only at the crown, which melded into red in the middle, and pale pink at the tips. The eyes were no longer grey cat eyes, but pupil-less solid black. Her lower half of her face was as if she'd gotten into a hideous car accident that scarred her mouth into a hideous Chelsea Grin, with bits of cheek missing, revealing sharp crocodile teeth.

This was the true face of Kali Pham, and Jeffrey Nero Hardy was one of the few to see it.

The phone rang again.

"What this time?" Marfa grumbled, pressing the talk button on her phone.

"Hello?" she greeted.

"Hey Marfa," greeted a raspy female voice in Daemonspeak.

"Well met, little sister!" she exclaimed.

"Lady Tomiko?" Daira mouthed, her mistress nodding. Tomiko, or Tommie as she preferred to be called, was the youngest of her nine siblings, and born literally minutes after Marfa, making her also her fraternal twin, since their older triplet sister died years ago.

"It's been a while, I know," Tommie admitted. Grandma came to visit me last night, gave me your new number."

"Did she speak to you of why?"

"You know how Grandma gets with her visions," Tomiko defended. "If she's willing to break into my dreams to insist that I get your new number, it must be important."

"The good Lady Tiamat's insistence or not, it is good to hear from you again." Marfa paused. "Though why our grandmother couldn't insist we use the mirror, I do not know."

"And when has her Visions ever made sense?" Tommie retorted.

"Your point is well-made," she grudgingly admitted. "I will be in town this week, Little Sister. Do you wish to meet for lunch?"

"Can it be a nice place?" Tommie asked, half-joking. "I mean, you are a big time rock star now, and you know how Mom is about us touching our household stipends for frivolous shit." Tommie was a tattoo artist, and with working in a very bad place, last she heard.

"I will have Daira make the reservation," Marfa said, giving the nod to her assistant, who frantically tapped her phone.

"Are you in your car? You sound different."

"I have just parked my car, I was about to leave when Jeffery called." The fact Jeff Hardy was her lover was well-known in her family. Daemons were known for being traditionally polyamourous, so it was no big deal.

"Maybe this year he'll finally leave Beth?" she asked hopefully.

"I do not wish to speculate on such a matter," Marfa said.

"Let me know when and where!"

"I shall, Little Sister."