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She blinks slowly, as if debating asking the question I can see dancing on the tip of her tongue. Curiosity gets the best of her. “How do you worship?”
Even as I tell myself to keep my distance, the memory of her dream makes me reckless. I lean down until I can speak directly in her ear. “By fucking, love.” Her surprise and curiosity and, yes, lust, have me elaborating. “The more pleasure given, the greater the worship. The more orgasms, the more satisfied our deity.”
A little tremor works through her body, but she’s stronger than she gives herself credit for. She doesn’t crumple or flee. She just takes a careful inhale. “What deity wants worship like that?”
I force myself to ease back, to give her more breathing space. It won’t do to rush this, to pressure her. I shrug. “They have no name, no form we can comprehend. Our god, if you want to call them that, is unknowable.”
That cute little frown appears between her brows. “If they’re unknowable, then how do you know that, uh, sex pleases them?”
I smile slowly, pleased at the way her pulse seems to increase in response. “Because, darling, it’s what we were made for.”
7
BELLADONNA
Sex as worship.
The very idea would have my mother reaching for her phone to call Pastor John, sure that demons had taken up residence inside me. Thinking about it should fill me with a shame that can only be combated with prayer and immediate repentance. And yet Rusalka says it as if it’s fact. As if of course they worship their unknowable deity with sex, because that’s what feels good and what they were made for. I’m not certain gods even exist, and now she’s telling me that theirs wants them to have sex? It defies belief. “But do they know you’re worshipping if they’re unknowable? How do you know they’re listening?”
“We don’t. That’s not what it’s about.”
I shake my head sharply. “That sounds like a cult.”
She laughs, the sound deep and joyous. Everything about her seems deep and joyous. I don’t understand it. Rusalka throws her arm around my shoulders as easily as if we’ve been friends for a lifetime. “Cults are a human creation, darling. All the people in my territory worship in the way they see fit, if they worship at all. It’s hardly required, and each person can make their own decisions. Plenty of my people don’t believe in deities at all. It’s a varied experience. I’m not set up as their leader of their belief, only of their government.”
The way she says it is so relaxed, as if it doesn’t really matter if people believe in this deity or not. As if she truly doesn’t care. It baffles me. “But what happens if they don’t believe?”
“Nothing happens.” Another shrug. She still has her arm around my shoulders, a warm and steady weight. She turns us back toward the manor, easily moving us away from the few people who still linger, watching me as if expecting me to save them. As if I’ve ever done anything but disappoint the people who expected things of me.
“But you just said . . .”
“I said they can choose. Just like you can choose. If you’re not comfortable with the sex, then we won’t expose you to it. I’ll talk with my Insomnior Court and ensure they keep their activities behind closed doors.”
My mind reels with all the information I’ve taken in, every bit of it conflicting with what has been drilled into me since childhood.
How many times have I harbored the thought that God, if He exists—They exist—must be larger than the hateful creature my parents’ worship? Surely a god of that expansiveness doesn’t care if I’m having premarital sex or masturbating. Surely if They paid that close of attention, all the atrocities in the world wouldn’t happen. Surely my sister, a sweet and good person, shouldn’t have gotten cancer.
I inhale Rusalka’s spicy scent. Their warmth is a live thing against my side, flickering like a cozy fire through our clothes. It answers the question I’d barely allowed myself to think—their fire doesn’t have to burn. There’s a metaphor in that, but my mind is reeling too hard to divine it. “You need a baby.”
“We’d like one eventually, yes.” She urges me to start walking with the subtlest pressure. “But, as I’ve said before and will say again, it’s not something you’ll be forced or coerced into doing. We have time. There’s no reason to rush things.”
She’s being too easy on me. I know what I signed up for. More than that, I’m starting to understand exactly what a child would mean to not only her, but every person who lives in this territory. “You said that either you or another would impregnate me. How does that work?” I wave at her hips and then realize I likely just overstepped dramatically. “That’s too personal, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. As I said when we first met, my people tend to be fluid when it comes to gender. That doesn’t simply mean how they identify. Most of us are shape-shifters on one level or another, which means we can generate the necessary appendage to get the job done.”
“... Oh.” I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around that, so I set it aside for now. I think of the tears in the pregnant person’s eyes, of the way their hope for the future practically shone from their face. I clear my throat. “How many succubi and incubi are there in your territory?”
“We don’t keep a tight count, but somewhere north of three hundred thousand.”
I stop short. Three hundred thousand people. “That’s so many.”
A shadow appears in her orange eyes. “There used to be many more, but each war has a cost, and my people are not fighters in the same way some of the others in this realm can be. We’ve suffered heavy losses over the generations.”
I saw the dragon and the tentacled person and the winged monster. All of them look stronger and more fearsome than Rusalka, at least physically. “And having a baby... a human leader... will benefit them all? That will protect them?”
“Yes. That will boost the naturally occurring magic in the territory. That helps crops grow, soothes the weather, makes it easier for our healers to do their jobs—all sorts of things.” She speaks absently as she guides me up the manor steps and opens the door. “It’s why my people elect the most powerful of us to be leader when the time comes. If the leader’s magic starts to wane, then a new leader is chosen. We don’t bother with bloodlines the way the other territories do, and we’ve benefited as a result.”
So many people. I could help so many people. Yes, the thought of having a child and leaving them behind hurts in a way I don’t know how to conceptualize. But I’ve been dealing with hurt for my entire life. What’s one more to add to the list, especially when the benefit is so expansive? “I’ll do it.”
