Succubus Companions ch5 pt. 6

Looking the woman over, Seraphine noticed she was in bad shape.  Her clothes were soaked with blood from a stab wound in her gut.  She also bled in a line down her chest where someone had cut too deeply when someone too impatient to undo the lacings of her vest and blouse had cut too deeply.  Blood, more purple than red, was beginning to crust around her hairline, her nose and lips.  The woman’s slightly skin looked as if it would normally be a bronze skin, but now looked more blue than bronze.  Wide gold-flecked hazel eyes looked up at Seraphine first in horror then in bitter acceptance as the woman, too weak to move, watched the demon lean over her.

Seraphine pulled a flask from her belt, relieved it had survived.  Seraphine poured a portion of it onto the woman’s wounds causing the woman to gasp as the potion’s affects washed over the woman with a cool magical sensation.  She held it to injured woman’s lips.  “Drink this.  It will help,” She ordered.

The woman turned her head to the side revealing one pointed ear.  An elf, Seraphine realized.  The elven maiden whispered, “Be gone, demon.”

Seraphine recoiled in surprise as holy energy washed over her, sinking into her, and doing absolutely nothing.  She blinked in confusion and looked down at the elf to realize that the elf was staring at her with an expression that showed she was equally confused.

“That should have at least stung,” the woman grunted bitterly.

Seraphine shrugged.  “We can figure that out later.  For now, drink,” she ordered.

“Elora?” the woman croaked.

Seraphine tilted her head to the side.  “Elora?”

“The wolf,” the elf clarified.

Seraphine moved over to the wolf.  It looked up at her warily, baring its teeth.  The arrow protruded from the side, buried almost to the fletching.  Seraphine wasn’t an expert on wolf anatomy, but she from the way the wolf wheezed, she suspected that the arrow had punctured a lung.

She moved back to the elf and shook her head.  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

The elf grabbed her hand.  “Save her,” she commanded.

Seraphine sighed, “I only have one potion with me.  If I have to use it all on the wolf, you might die.”

“Save her,” the elf commanded again.  “Please.”

Seraphine sighed again and looked up at Vician.  “You have another potion?”

“Not that I am sharing,” Vician replied.  “Especially not on an elf we don’t even know.”

“I’ll be fine,” the elf pleaded.  “Please save Elora.”

Rolling her eyes, Seraphine shifted back to a human form and returned to the wolf and knelt down beside it.  Seraphine reached for the arrow only to yank her hand back to avoid losing it to the wolf’s jaws.

“Easy, girl,” Seraphine whispered.  “Elora?  I want to help you but I have to remove the arrow.” 

Seraphine reached for the arrow again.  As gently, but quickly as she could she pushed the arrow the rest of the way through the wolf. 

Elora tried to snap at Serpahine’s hands again, but the succubus moved her hands out of the way.  The wolf then tried to lunge for the demon, but she didn’t have the strength and she collapsed into a whimpering ball of fur.

Retrieving her dagger from Breven’s corpse, Seraphine cut the end off of the arrow and pulled it out.  Acting quickly, she poured a little of the healing potion on both of the wounds. 

Cupping her hand, she poured a little of the healing potion into it and held it in front of the wolf.  Putting a bit of suggestion into her voice she encouraged the wolf to drink.  One handful at a time, she convinced Elora to lap up the potion.

Gradually, the wolf’s breathing slowed and became less labored and the visible wounds knit together and faded into scars.  The wolf stopped whimpering and slowly came to her feet still regarding the demon warily she padded over to the elf and sat down.

The elf reached up to pet the wolf and whispered reassurances to it.  “Thank you,” she said softly, looking up to meet Seraphine’s eyes.  To the succubus’ amazement, the elf looked and sounded a bit stronger.  “Regeneration spell,” the elf explained, seeing Seraphine’s expression.  “Not as fast or painless as healing potions, but effective.”

Vician approached the women, his arms laden with goods collected from the dead men.  “Let’s go,” he commanded in a gruff voice.

Seraphine glanced to the woman skeptically.

“Not her,” Vician barked.  “You.”

“We can’t just leave her,” Seraphine retorted.  “She can’t even walk.” 

“Not our problem,” the wizard shrugged coldly.  Seeing Seraphine’s expression, he softened his tone.  “Come on, we’ve left our camp unattended long enough.  It would be a miracle if we do not find that all our gear is stolen.”

“You helped Melrazia, why won’t you help her?”  Seraphine stood up to face Vician, confusion and anger evident in her expression.

“I had something to gain for helping Melrazia; namely you,” Vician pointed out.  “Helping this woman, gains us nothing.”

“Helping this woman got you the pile of stuff you are carrying.”

“No, killing men gained me the stuff I carry,” Vician explained with exaggerated patience.  “If she is strong, she will survive.”

“You sound like a demon.  That is something a demon would say,” Seraphine angrily hissed.

“And you are a demon,” Vician snarled back.  “Perhaps you should start acting more like one.”

Seraphine looked as though she had been struck in the face.  “Part of the reason Melrazia was hurt was because we don’t want to be demons,” she gritted through clenched teeth as tears ran down her face.

“Well you certainly looked like you enjoyed being a demon when you killed those men tonight,” Vician sneered gesturing towards the men.

“Go bed a Medusa,” Seraphine hissed.  She turned her back on the mage.  “If you want to go back to camp, go ahead.  No one is stopping you.  I’m staying.”

“If you do not come with me, I’ll banish you back to the statue,” Vician warned.

“Go ahead.  At least the company would be preferable in there.”  Seraphine looked over her shoulder with the most angelic smile she could muster thus missing the brief look of horror that washed over the injured elf’s face.  “At least there, I don’t have my failings rubbed in my face.” 

“Nine Hells, must you be so difficult woman?” the mage roared.

“I’m not a woman, I’m a demon remember?  It’s in my nature.”

“Ugggh,” if Vician’s hands were not full, Seraphine imagined he would have thrown them up as he turned and stomped off.  “Do what you want.  If you’re not back in camp in an hour, I’ll use the statue.”  Not bothering to wait for a reply, he stalked into the woods leaving the succubus alone with the elf and the wolf.

Neither the mage nor the succubus noticed the elf mumble a spell or saw her look of confusion as she glanced at the angry demon or her wince in pain as she watched the departing man.