As Geneva walked away from her brooding summoner, her blank expression changed, a smirk turning up the corner of her lips. One filled with humor, but not the kind of humor most would appreciate. Fate and its workings always amused her, even when it seemed the unknowable force was working against her.

She was a natural predator with all the advantages: magic, strength, longevity, and control. All of that was tempered by eons of experience. Yet, inevitably, she faced problems that not even her powerful insight could save her from.

The chances of a lurker usurping a summoning were infinitesimal. Much smaller than Lou realized. It wasn’t simply rare, it was an event spoken of in legends and myths. One summoner in every ten generations might have their circle invaded by a denizen of the void and that was a generous estimation. Any written or oral stories would reflect an even smaller number, as lurker attacks tended to devastate the area, killing any witnesses. It was most likely why the Tomes, a family with a long history of summoning, had no knowledge of them.

There were factors that could increase the chances of a lurker appearing: how populous the world was, the numbers of active summoners, how frequently they opened doors to other realms, and the size of those doors. However, those factors could only raise the chances of an appearance from basically impossible to so unlikely it might as well be considered impossible.

If a world twice the size of the one she currently inhabited had a city of summoners that summoned a thousand drakkons every hour, that would change the chances of a lurker appearing from once every ten generations to perhaps once in every eight.

There must have been dozens, or hundreds, of independent summoners plotting vengeance against the king for his unwarranted attacks against their community. Even if the realm was unlucky enough to have a lurker passing by, there had to have been multiple targets for it to choose from. Luke Tome and his cabal were victims of bad luck and worse timing.

Unfortunately, her summoner didn’t care about the workings of fate. Or how illogical it was to ask her to defend against circumstances that couldn’t be predicted or defended against. All Lou cared about was her perceived failure.

For all her talk of seeing the succubi for what they were, Lou had strange ideas about her abilities. Or perhaps a romanticized perception of them and summoning in general. It was hard to be entirely sure when she couldn’t go rooting around in the young woman’s mind. Ideals were fluid things.

As much as she despised them, Lou was quite similar to the Grimoires. Where they fetishized the succubi’s bodies and shapeshifting abilities, Geneva felt her summoner did the same for their minds. She had warned Lou many times, in preparation for a day like today, that she and those like her were not infallible. They could be wrong. They could make mistakes.

Yet, the stronger the succubus, the less leeway Lou allowed them. Fen was present during the summoning but Lou had immediately blamed Geneva, who couldn’t have possibly intervened from half a kingdom away.

Those with power hold responsibility. Those without power have no say. Such was the way of Harvest and human nobility, where might, magical or martial, equaled status. Fen was weak, a mere thrall. Nothing could be lain at her feet.

Geneva decided to lean into Lou’s belief. Briefly, she had considered other options. Calmly pointing out the logical fallacies in her argument that the succubi had failed. Making herself a weeping mess and playing on Lou’s weakness for a pretty face.

However, there was one crucial detail that influenced her strategy; Lou’s suspicion, born of a lifetime of anxiety and insecurities. She always suspected Geneva was scheming. If she tried to play dumb, Lou wouldn’t believe her. If she tried to be soft and comforting, Lou would look for a knife hidden in the soft visage.

Worse, Lou was grief-stricken. Grief was the most troubling emotion because it couldn’t be predicted or understood. It could drive a sane man to madness or make a saint out of a villain. Grief was a seed of chaos. Anything could sprout from it. Geneva hated chaos. So, she decided to make that seed sprout in her image, the one direction she could control. In anger.

Anger was dangerous but it could be directed, controlled. Better, it was all-consuming. Geneva didn’t enjoy pain or punishment but she would happily absorb all of her summoner’s angers so it didn’t seep out and destroy other, more delicate things. And afterwards, when Lou was spent and horrified by the consequences of her temper, it wouldn’t be too late to pull on her heartstrings.

The only outcome that was unacceptable was Lou rejecting the succubi outright. Lou kept the succubi around for two reasons, despite the danger involved. Because they were useful and the summoner believed she understood them.

The death of her father had shaken Lou’s belief in their abilities. She could not have the summoner doubting her understanding of succubi. Best then to play into what Lou thought they were. Intelligent but arrogant, vicious creatures hiding behind veils of seduction and civility.

As long as Lou believed she could control them, she wouldn’t throw them away. Geneva was more than willing to sacrifice her body to appease Lou’s anger. She was also willing to have her plans interrupted, though that’d be annoying.

The worst possibility she could foresee was her death. Lou could do use it as a demonstration of her power over them. It would certainly give Bell, the next strongest succubus and Geneva’s de facto successor pause, but, in the end, they were all expendable. The ambitions of Burning Earth extended beyond individuals and lifetimes.

More likely, Lou would subject her to some kind of pain, deprivation or imprisonment. Then Fen and Bell would be there to appeal to her. Remind her how wonderful and reliable her favorite servants were.

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After entering the house, Geneva made her way to the kitchen. It was almost time for dinner and the succubus never missed an opportunity to prepare for a meal. Creatures of basic intellect were ruled by their instincts. Sustenance, survival, and shelter. Providing one of those things was the simplest way to earn their trust. In that way, a human was no different from a stray dog.

For the Grimoires, that meant sex. Reproduction was a part of a creature’s survival instinct and the one Geneva preferred to appeal too. Most creatures trusted and protected their mates. As an added bonus, pleasure was the easiest way to subvert a creature’s will. Pain made a creature bitter and injuries took energy to heal. Pleasure made them eager to please while performing at their best.

Unfortunately, Lou craved true affection expressed through intimacy, something she rightly believed succubi to be incapable of. Worse, she would never do something analogous to the actions of the family she despised. So, Geneva had to appeal the survival instinct through another means. Food.

Geneva spent the last year plying her contractor with what she would confidently call the best cuisine in the world. The reason behind her certainty was that it wasn’t simply good cooking. She enhanced each ingredient in her meals. Fruits left her hands sweet, meats fattier, and seasonings more complex. She also changed how they interacted with one another, producing tastes that couldn’t be replicated with natural ingredients.

It was culinary art and it had taken centuries to master it. Kierra could replicate her achievements but, as a pure affinity was limited by the knowledge of the one wielding it, it would take a long, long time to replicate the same depth and complexity of flavors.

A quirk of sentient creatures was that the more accustomed they became to luxury, the more loathed they were to relinquish it. For that, a core tenet of a succubus’ philosophy was to make their contractor as comfortable as possible. An entity would endure many hardships for a touch of comfort. So, as Geneva pondered her fate, she made dinner and baked.

As she worked, Bell scampered into the kitchen. The imp stopped at Geneva’s feet and transformed. Her bright skin darkened to obsidian as she grew to a height that could rival the house’s elven mistress. Five horns sprouted from her head in the natural crown as the four scarlet eyes became two molten pools. The standard physical traits of a virtue.

One of Burning Earth’s grandest deceptions, a multi-realm conspiracy to hide their true appearances. It was incredible how few summoners questioned the appearance of an elemental the first time it appeared in their circle, even if said elemental was a known shapeshifter.

If a succubus was expected to look a certain way, it created doubt when they took drastically different shapes. For the imps and thralls that didn’t have extensive mana pools, it wasn’t very important, but for the virtues and dons, it offered infinite potential for deception and infiltration.

The two succubi locked gazes, eyes aglow as they channeled magic. In the blink of an eye, the entirety of their observations, predictions, and plans were transferred.

{I would offer an amendment,} Bell replied after their mutual sendings.

[Hoh?]

It was a rare thing for Bell to second-guess her, even in such a minor way. Such things went against their nature. A higher-circled succubus was the sum of all the lessers she governed. Any mistake she might make, her subordinates didn’t have the capacity to recognize it, let alone correct it.

However, they did have one possible strength. Perspective. As the leader, Geneva tended to focus on the bigger picture. That sometimes meant smaller details went beneath her notice.

In contrast, Bell, who limited her manipulations to a single group, such as a family like the Grimoires, or Fen, whose responsibilities would normally end at controlling her summoner, saw things differently. Never better, but sometimes worth considering.

{We, through myself, should offer more information about Burning Earth.}

[Risky. Your reasoning?]

{It would serve to define us as two separate interests. You are the competent schemer she must always be wary of. I am the cute and supportive Bell. We will cement our roles with me ‘working against you’.}

[Lou knows no succubus goes against her superior. It would be difficult to convince her otherwise. Possibly unfeasible.]

{I submit she believes it to be a cultural phenomenon, not a biological imperative.}

[A distinction she can learn quickly if she asks one question.]

{Lou questions our actions, not our motives. I believe I can convince her that I have ‘broken free’ of your control. An idea that would appeal to her. Then I will become her agent that advises her against you.}

[She will not believe you.]

{She will come to believe me. As wary as she is, she considers us family and values family. That is why her father’s death has impacted her so strongly.}

[Rejected. Lou is a cynic. She finds it hard to accept when her own species acts out of love or kindness. A genuine saintly individual disgusted her. She will not believe she has inspired love in creatures she believes to be heartless.]

{Then I will not present myself as her friend, but your enemy. A usurper.}

[I see. You are revealing my weaknesses and those of our race to ingratiate yourself to a possible ally, the two of uniting against a greater for. Better, but what is the draw for her? She doesn’t need to ‘defeat’ me.]

{A succubus she can trust, loyalty guaranteed through mutual benefit. A humbler succubus who is more cautious of angering her contractor.}

[Us? Humble? I didn’t know you were fond of telling jokes, Belolial. Too improbable.]

{Lou is a naïve idealist. She will doubt at first but, if given enough evidence of a conclusion she wants to believe, it will overcome her doubt. Her power gives her the confidence to take risks, as she believes she can weather any consequences.}

[How will you handle it when she inevitably asks about the reasons behind your sudden increase in support?]

{I will answer honestly. I genuinely want to help her because I want her to place her faith in me. Wanting to overtake you is also truth. It is also a succubus’ nature to consume and conquer all. Even their betters.}

Geneva debated the option and the more she did, the more she liked it. It came with mild risks but mild ones. It didn’t directly harm or manipulate Lou, so should they be discovered, her contractor wouldn’t be very angry. Since many of her previous plans would be disrupted, it would be good if at least something came out of her misfortune.

Besides, more influence over the young summoner was always a good thing.

[Approved, but tread carefully.]

{Of course.}

Their conversation only took moments, speaking through their magic far faster and more efficient than words. During it, Bell had come to stand beside Geneva and began chopping vegetables. She would help with dinner, a supervised practice to prepare her in case she had to assume responsibility over the house’s meals.

If Geneva’s predictions of Lou’s nature were correct, she would be incapacitated in some way for an indeterminate amount of time. Bell would have to ensure their prey remained comfortable by keeping her food to a similar standard. Though not the same standard.

It wouldn’t do to have Lou think Geneva was easily replaceable. The succubus intended for them to be together for a long time.