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Chapter 1:
Daemona was a succubus and a thief. She needed the sexual energy she drained from all too willing participants to engage in her short distance dimensional and teleportation powers. Her skills coupled with a natural affinity for mischief made her the best in the whole city of thieves.
Riding the groomsman hard, she felt him climax as he gripped her thighs and still she rode on until he panted from the force of her piston-like gyrations.
“No more, I can’t,” he gasped, as he moved his hands over her chest.
“More,” she cooed, as she slammed down and back up.
He coughed and his straining hands fell from her heaving breasts.
“Please,” he begged. “I can’t.”
His spent energy welled inside her and was absorbed. She was satisfied even if this had been quicker than she might have liked.
“It was enough, thank you, Burin,” she said, as she stood over him, sweat dripping from her curvaceous body.
“Its Durin,” he panted, nearly ready to pass out. It had been the ride of his life and it was over a minute or two. “When can I see you again?”
“Perhaps when I feel the need, but until then don’t come looking for me,” she snapped as she threw her cloak over her shoulders. “I’ve got to get to work.”
***
The clock at the top of the tower boomed upon the midnight hour. The echo of the big brass bell enveloped Daemona while she climbed the moss-covered walls. It was an imposing tower, over a hundred feet high, and she was only halfway up. The sheer walls were a challenge like none other that Daemona had faced—that anyone had faced, really. They were impossible to climb. But not for Daemona; she was the best.
Finding out about the Elephant Heart jewel had been a surprise. Marcenko, her best street rat of an informant, was only supposed to relay information about the grand vizier’s vault but this was an unexpected bonus.
Marcenko mentioned in passing, “There has to be five hundred Crowns in locked trunks, ready for the taking, down on Fairfax Avenue.”
“How many guards?” Daemona asked.
“Only two guards who usually sleep on the job, it will be easy money. A whole lot easier than stealing the Elephant Heart from that mage, the one visiting King Graymont. Too bad,” he said, “that one is beyond even your capability of stealing.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” snapped Daemona, as she rubbed her small horns for effect. She was proud of the short, white pointy things that barely protruded from beneath her red hair. It made her feel like she always had a crown.
Marcenko gulped. “It’s nothing personal, love. I’m just saying it’s too bad. The Elephant’s Heart is already safely locked within the Tower of the Octopus. There’s no way anyone could get to it. Not even you.”
In an heartbeat, she had a dagger out and pressing into the flesh just above his sternum. “Don’t call me ‘love’ again.”
“Sorry, Boss Lady,” he said, sweat running down his face.
From the window of their dingy meeting place, Daemona could see the Tower of the Octopus. It stabbed into the sky almost as high as the royal palace itself. But this tower stood alone, a single citadel with slick, sloping walls culminating in a large circular chamber topped with a witches-peak roof and, of course, a clock and its booming bell. Finely engraved wooden beams stood out from the top, curving in eight opposing directions: hence the name, since it did resemble an octopus. Some great wizard had made it in elder days. What was his name? Malkieth? Daemona tried to remember. It didn’t matter; what mattered was the jewel. The Elephant’s Heart. She liked the sound of that. She liked the challenge of being the one thief to have ever scaled the formidable tower and made off with its treasure. The hardest thing would be finding a buyer who could afford the precious jewel.
“Well, I’ll tell you what I know, though I think it’s a death trap,” said Marcenko.
Daemona snapped her fingers at him. “If I want your opinion, I’ll steal it from you. Keep it to what you know.”
Marcenko gulped again. “Look, I’ve seen you steal and I’ve seen you fight. You’re no one I would ever want to be on the bad side of.”
“Thanks,” she answered, rolling her deep red eyes.
“I’m not done yet. You’re quick with your blades and there’s no Succubus alive that can do what you do. You’re the best.”
Daemona played with a lock of her red-gold hair. “You forgot vain. What is your point, Marcenko?”
“I got a bad feeling about the tower. I want you to leave it alone.”
She glared at him. “Why? So one of the other thieves’ guilds can do it? Oh no! If this jewel is half as fantastic as you say, it’s mine for the taking! Tell me everything you know.”
