Vesper and the Succubus Vow

flowed off like water. The car passed, blind. His throat tightened.

“What are you?” She glanced at him with mock surprise. “I’m the part of your prayers you

never said out loud.” He stared, hungry and frightened at once. “And you do this

to people?” She let the question breathe in the dark. Then: “I don’t do anything to anyone

who doesn’t open the door.” “And if they open it without understanding?” Her smile sharpened.

“Then they learn.” They reached a courtyard that didn’t belong on any map. Overgrown.

Forgotten. Cracked stone split by roots. Moonlight fell through skeletal branches

of an ancient tree, making lace patterns on the ground like a spell diagram.