"Sirens? You mean — mermaids? What?"
"Not quite, love." Now both of Lust's hands were on my shoulders, and he massaged them gently as he spoke. "They're closely related, but Mammon is speaking of the proto-sirens, the original creatures of antiquity. The younger siren species adapted to the water instead of the air, but that came much later."
"Proto?" Mammon repeated roughly, downright angry. "They're not proto anything. They're not extinct anymore. They are the sirens, end of story."
"Hm, I'll apologize for him, my Sable. Mammon is far older than I am and was around before the decline of the proto-sirens, so he's yet to catch up with the times. The curse of an elder. Though, it is true that news of their extinction turned out to have been greatly exaggerated, and the proto-sirens have resurrected from the grave. Still, it's too late for most of the shorter-lived world. I know for a fact that witches and humans are mostly only familiar with the sirens of the water now. Isn't that right, Sable?"
"They're sirens! The original sirens. Whose idea was it to give their name to fish women!"
"Mysteries abound, dear brother..."
I didn't want to get in the middle of whatever their newest argument was. Seriously, how many fights could two demons get into in one day? Mammon's throat was probably still healing from that tail strike that nearly beheaded him, too. And now they wanted to argue about sirens and so-called proto-sirens and whatever.
To be fair, I vaguely remembered hearing about the latter at some point. What Lust said sounded correct, going by instinct alone, but I had never even finished reading an elementary witches' compendium of magical beasts and peoples. There was no way to confirm what he said. The extent of my knowledge of even the magical creatures of my own home realm was equivalent to about... I don't know, being able to sing a few stanzas of Old McDonald's basic farm menagerie.
"Okay, okay," I cut in before Mammon and Lust could really get into it. "Just tell me about the 'proto-sirens'. What's the difference? What's their weakness? How do I deal with them?"
"Ah... Mammon will be a better resource than I concerning this. Unfortunately, they were extinct before my time, and they only recently resurfaced."
"I'm a better resource than you concerning everything."
"If you say so."
The sound of Mammon grinding his teeth made me look left and right in sightless apprehension, but thankfully, he calmed down enough to get down to business again. "They're birds," he said shortly. "They're hard to get to in the air unless you have wings yourself. Asmodeus could change his shape if he were strong enough, but he seems pathetically weaker than usual."
"Only until I've gathered my Shards, dear Mammon. And you seem no better than I. Being trapped in that prison for so long and having my Shard absorb so much of your latent power has brought you so low..."
"Shut up, Asmodeus." Mammon growled when his demand was met with a drawling chuckling, but let it go soon enough. Thank God. "They attack a human's hearing, forcing them to go insane by overwhelming them over time. They aren't especially strong since their bones are too thin and light to keep them in the air. They don't have as much innate magical power to grant them flight, so their physical ability suffers for it. But their singing makes it so that they don't need to fight their prey anyway. Listen to it long enough, and you will run around and make yourself an easy target for their talons. They wear down their prey then eat them alive."
I neatly avoided envisioning such a scene. "Seems simple to me," I said, calm. "I'll just have to find a way to block my ears or something. Even if I can't completely deafen myself, that should lower the risk. It buys me time, right?"
"Sirens are one of the oldest predators of humans. They've evolved to do it well. Even the vibrations they create are meant to rattle your bones and travel into your ears through your body. It won't buy you enough time to make any difference."
"Oh." My optimism floundered slightly before decidedly falling a notch. But not the end of the world. Plenty of factors were on my side. For example — "I haven't been here long enough to start being mentally affected, at least. I feel completely fine. I was annoyed before because they were so loud, that was all, but now that I know what might be going on, I can just ignore them for the time being. How long does it typically take to drive their prey crazy? A week? Even that should be fine if we move fast—"
"A few hours for most humans. Some have natural resistance, maybe from a seed of bastard magic passed down illegitimately, but even the hardiest ones fall within a few days. I've never seen sirens have to pursue their prey longer than that."
"Though with Sable being a witch, she's hardly as vulnerable as ordinary humans. My love, there's no need to worry."
"Unless the magic sleeping in her is too passive to protect. She can hear the calling. She was affected. Don't be stupid, Asmodeus. She could be running out of time. Even at her best, it could be two, three days. Then too late."
"It's not a sure thing, though," Lust assured me as blithely as if Mammon hadn't just stamped my death warrant. "My love, don't worry. If the signs worsen, then we'll figure out what to do then, but you look like you're in high spirits. You'll be just fine."
First of all, that was a lie. I was a mess, wearing his robes, barefoot, dog-tired and at the end of my rope. High spirits, my ass. But the optimism was what I needed, so I took it gladly. Until Mammon further spoiled it.
"We have more to worry about than just the sirens," he added. "They might be dangerous enough to you, but ever since they came back, there's been talk that something is behind their return. The species died out more than three thousand years ago. Things like that don't reverse themselves so easily, but here they are. And spreading through the outer realms again, too. Everywhere they appear, they bring other problems with them."
"You're so terribly negative, aren't you..."
Mammon ignored him and continued, "The whole island has something wrong with it. We avoid the sirens, but we need to get out of here as quickly as possible. Shard or not. If we have to take human means of travel, so be it."
"That'll be at Sable's discretion, of course."
"Contradict me one more time, see what happens—"
"The best way to protect yourself if you insist, love, even though I'm more than capable of keeping you safe." Lust ran his fingertip down the tip of my nose in a playful flick. "Is to regain your sight. While I won't leave your side, it'll make you feel more secure, won't it?"
"Right."
"And you said it yourself that your sight returned when you climaxed for me."
"For us," Mammon corrected.
"Yes, yes, for both of us. Now, Sable. I think it's most logical to continue as we have. Don't you? I know you must be tired, and we may not understand what the exact reason behind it is, but shouldn't we try what works and see if it improves further?" His hands sneakily moved to my hips, squeezing slightly through the robe. "It worked twice. A third time, if we prove it, would leave no room for doubt..."
I stared unseeing at the ground, wishing I could melt right through it. Of course Lust was going to bring this up again when I'd made my feelings plenty clear about it. All he could think about was sex, after all. Sex, sex, sex. If he wasn't fucking me, he was thinking about fucking me, and he probably would prefer it if I had no silly, stupid mouth to babble nonsense with and had a second vagina there to fuck instead. He couldn't wait until I became his thrall, could he?
"I'm tired," I said flatly. "I already said what I said and I'm not taking it back. You should be topped up now, right?"
"My power is replenished, but..."
"Then that's all. Now I want to focus on other problems. Me being able to see isn't going to help much with the proto-sirens compared to making an exit strategy, right?"
"Asmodeus is careless as always," Mammon snorted. "You have the body of a human, magic-possessing or not. He'll destroy you because he can't control himself."
"The precious irony of you accusing me of lack of self-control..."
I know you're at your limit, witch. The aura he shared with you on the mountain is almost exhausted. You'll break if you keep humoring him. Reject him."
"Odd that you had no interest in Sable rejecting you not too long ago," Lust said mildly. Too mildly. "One might begin suspecting you of partiality like this. Exercise some care."
"You were already fucking her, don't shift the blame to me."
"But of course. If there's any blame to be had, it would be equally borne, wouldn't it?"
"Both of you hush," I snapped. The last traces of my patience shredded themselves to dust. "Instead of fighting over nothing, give me ideas on what to do next. Now. Or I can go wandering around the island by myself if it'll let me go two minutes without listening to you two fight. What next! What are we doing now?"
They were obstinately quiet for a brief moment, neither willing to yield. Only when I shoved Lust's hands off of me, turned away, and made to walk off — anywhere — did they come to a fast agreement, speaking at the same time.
"Asmodeus will find shelter for the storm coming."
"Mammon can scout past the valley for signs of sirens."
I almost heard them glaring at each other afterwards. For fuck's sake. But at least we were making progress. Whatever. "Okay, do that. I stay with Lust for now and then we regroup in a couple of hours. You said there's a storm coming, Mammon?"
"... A heavy one, for you."
Now that I knew to look for it, I caught the subtlest hint of the smell of rain, cool and murky in my nose. Great. A storm, just what we needed, something to slow down our search. Yet I couldn't help the rush of relief at the thought that finally, I might get some real rest. Lust wouldn't let me waddle around out there in the pelting rain, right? I had no choice but to sit my tired ass down and sleep, at least for a little while. God, everything hurt. I pressed my thighs together to try to soothe the ache between them to no avail.
"Sounds like a plan, then," I said decisively. "Come on, Lust. Let's find some cover."
***
Thank God he found caves, nice and spacious and high up so we wouldn't have to worry about sloshing around in a flood. Supposedly, he chose the best one, though how could I know?
"Are you hungry, Sable?"
"No."
"Thirsty?"
"No." (Definitely no.)
"Then—"
"Sleep. That's all I want." I dropped to the cave floor right there and closed my eyes, fully prepared to drop off as is. Lust, however, had other ideas. My eyes shot open, dread coursing when he pulled me into his lap and sat me sideways between his folded legs. "Lust!"
"For your comfort," he purred, but there was no way the particular placement of my ass directly on his cock was pure-minded. Again, I was reminded that I was wearing his only clothes, and that he had nothing on. Swell. Wonderful.
But when gentle fingertips ghosted over my eyes, urging me to close them, relief replaced suspicion. Was he really going to let me sleep? For real? This wasn't a trick and I wouldn't wake up to him moaning and bouncing me up and down his dick because he thought a sleeping pussy was an available one? Clearly he had no problem having sex with people in their sleep. This would just be sex outside of a dream, not within one.
"Rest. You're safe with me, my love. Are you warm?"
"... Yeah."
"Is this comfortable?"
I wanted to say no, but it was too big of a damn lie for him to ever believe me if I even tried. "Yes," I admitted. His arms, his chest, his powerful body — everything was just right. God, I hated how good it felt, so deceptively secure and peaceful.
"Then that's all I need." Lips pressed to my temple. "Rest your hands on me. The ground is cold."
"I'm fine—"
Before I could finish my protest, he grabbed my arm that I had awkwardly stuck out because I didn't want to seem clingy, and he pulled it tight between us. The long, billowing sleeve got in the way of him rearranging my arm, but it was a small matter of him sliding the sleeve up, momentarily baring my arm so he could fold it towards us—
He froze.
So did I.
With no warning, a strange pulse of manic energy swept into me, energy distinctly Lust but somehow more frenzied, more desperate than ever before. The dread came back tenfold when his arm tightened around my shoulders, crushing me to his chest. Was it going to happen? Was he going to do it — like in the water, right before Mammon intervened, of all people? But there was no Mammon here, no anyone, just me and Lust and whatever he felt like doing no matter what I wanted—
He swayed slightly, powerful arms still trapping me as I struggled to breathe past the shock and visceral fear of what might happen.
But nothing else. He held me, tight, so tight it almost hurt, and... rocked. It was subtle and slow, tender, like he thought I might shatter at any second, and slowly the tension gripping me in its paralysis drained away. In its absence, my body felt like a useless lump, no longer possessing even the energy to protest how intimately he held me.
It.. felt good. To be held like this. Our bodies pressed together but not with heavy, scorching need, just... pressed. Tightly. I breathed low and slow, not daring to ask what had just happened, what was going through his head. I probably didn't want to know.
Eventually, I relaxed into him, going against my better judgment in not demanding he let me back down. It was too late for that anyway, and I was too tired. What was the point in throwing a fit when he truly wasn't trying anything? This... was the best I could hope for from him, honestly. I should take it while it lasted.
The last wisps of resistance faded, and at last, so did I.