Thirteen

Miriam’s eyes met mine from her position above me. My hands guided up her waist at the encouragement of her hips. I was breathless, seeing Miriam in this way, from such a vantage, my eyes admiring every inch of her perfectly crafted body.

“Match me,” she begged, and I realized she was pulling Glow from me. With every slick movement of her hips, I concentrated on my output, slowly upping my intake from her. I knew I’d found the perfect pull when Miriam let out an eager gasp, punctuated with a light whine. Her hair fell into her angelic face and her eyes penetrated mine with a lust and aching desperation that drove me wild.

Everything was perfect then, feeding from one another without taking, lost in the comfort that we gave one another without regard to the caution that came with trying not to overharvest.

Miriam was so stunning. Every part of her, every curve, every shape, every inch of her flawless skin, was dutifully perfected in her years as a succubus and it showed. I savored each part of her, unable to think clearly of anything else.

Her hands weighed heavy on my chest as she balanced herself, her hips lost in a dance to the extraordinary symphony that was her. Even her thoughts were beautiful, dictated by fluidity and music when I managed to focus enough to listen. But Miriam was magical and my thoughts were too lost in her to focus on what she was thinking of me.

In that moment, I was hers and she was mine, and there was no one else in the world.

With the eagerness in an encounter that only comes from never wanting it to end, it ended far too early. Sweet Miriam, with her beautiful, flushed cheeks and her sultry, blue eyes, pressed her soft lips to mine before rolling off of me, landing in the bed next to me in a heap.

My heard thudded emphatically in my chest as I caught my breath, the room feeling too hot to bear, but as Miriam pulled the sheets up to cover herself, I wanted to be under them too, with her, and I struggled with my exhausted body to find her in them. It was worth it, though, feeling complete once more as my arms found her, wrapping around her as much as I could bear in the heat.

Her chest heaved as well, her eyes lost in the ceiling. I longed for them to return to me. I wanted her to look at me again as she had just moments before.

When her fingers found my messy hair, stroking absentmindedly, an intimate calm washed over me. It was incredibly cathartic, my breathing synced with hers, and for the first time in my life, my getting off hadn’t hurt anyone.

As we both cooled, Miriam’s long, slender body moved closer to grip mine. I didn’t dare will myself to move. She allowed me to feel something I hadn’t felt during any of my existence. The barmaid had called it; I right and truly loved her. She was what I needed. I felt so whole with her. In her bed, in her arms, there was no imp named Stewart. Lily hadn’t let me down. The teenager and the barmaid were irrelevant. Henry was still relatively trustworthy. Sophie wasn’t gone.

Instead, Miriam was here. I was here. Nothing existed outside of these four walls and I was grateful.

“Did you change?” I eventually mused, needing to hear her voice again, stroking Miriam’s hair where her head now rested on my chest.

“Of course.” She paused and I admired her for knowing what I was asking. “Did you?”

“Often, for the first few years.” I couldn’t bear to look at myself in a mirror for the longest time after I traded my soul. I was too sorry. “But not in centuries now.”

Miriam giggled softly again as her lips found mine. “That explains a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I feigned defensiveness, unable to be offended in such a loving embrace.

“It means you’re lucky messy hair has come back,” she teased, her fingernails tickling my bicep as she lazily scratched me, her autonomous action as soothing as the one before.

“Can I see?”

Miriam stiffened then and I wished I could take the words back, but there they were, like ice between us. She sat up then, her eyes assessing mine for something I couldn’t recognize.

“I’ve worked so hard to forget who I was then. There’s a reason I changed and I’ve never looked back. Do you really want me to show someone whose opinion of me I really value?”

I propped myself up on my elbows, refusing to break our mutual gaze. “Yes.”

She stood then, the blankets remaining with me, as Miriam bared every inch of her chosen body to me. Her eyes searched mine, undoubtedly waiting for me to stop her, but I was far too curious. I was greedy for information. I needed to know more of this enthralling succubus. I wanted to see the Miriam my Miriam so desperately wanted to forget.

“I forget how to turn it off,” she confessed then, but I stayed silent, willing her to continue. She closed her eyes, clearly concentrating, and her body began to slowly morph. I, in real time, got to see each change Miriam had consciously made as they faded away.

What was left was a short, plain-looking girl with lackluster hips and breasts to match. Her hair was a soft brown, her face painted with freckles and wrinkles, despite her clearly young features. Her face was round, her nose small, and her eyes matched her hair. She had changed everything.

I was speechless to see this other side, this inside, of the woman I had looked at for over a year. She was so…unextraordinary. She was so plain. She was everything that Miriam was not.

She shuddered and I saw her tears. She collapsed to the floor then, sobs and ragged breaths breaking the silence between us. The room suddenly illuminated as she rapidly reengaged her chosen look, and I finally regained control of myself, guilty for failing to comfort her.

“Miriam,” I coaxed as I joined her in the floor, descending slowly to her. I pulled the sheet to wrap around her naked body. I cradled her there, in the floor of her bedroom, as she cried about who she used to be. But I understood, so I held her. I didn’t want to be me either. I didn’t want to be the man that ruined my wife. I didn’t want to be what pushed her to such mental extremes. I didn’t want to be the reason she was so willing to discard herself.

I needed Miriam to feel me here for her. I needed her to know I needed her. I didn’t care who she was before. And I was sorry I had asked to see. I was sorry to push Miriam into such a vulnerable state after being so intimate with me, and I was sorry she hadn’t had the courage to tell me no.

Miriam composed quickly, her artificial, customer service demeanor engaging as she pulled herself from me. “I’m alright,” she complained as she stood, and I found myself touching her calf.

“Don’t go,” I begged her, eager to return to the warmth of the bed rather than the chill of the floor.

She finally made eye contact with me and I saw the lengths of the insecurities she felt. I saw her search for my approval and I tried so desperately to seem like I needed her. I did need her.

“Nothing’s changed,” I promised her as I rose to my knees, wrapping my arms around her thighs, pulling her to me as I looked up at her. “I just see you.”

“Everything’s changed,” she sighed, pushing my arms down as she started out the room. But I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t be without her now. If she wouldn’t do it for me, I would have to provoke her insecurities further, if for no more than to make her want to seek comfort in my arms.

“So why did you do it?”

Miriam tensed in the doorway, but stopped where she stood. She lingered there before taking a deep breath, her eyes guilty when she finally turned around to look at me. Again, I was sorry, peering over Miriam’s bed to see her so upset, so sad, her eyes unable to hold the façade the rest of her body managed. She took several moments to compose her thoughts.

“My marriage was a nightmare,” she started, moving to the bed to sit. I quickly moved to be with her, grateful that it had worked. When I wrapped my arms around her, she sunk heavily into me, and I willed her to feel safe with me, to need me as much as I suddenly needed her. She took a ragged breath, hiding her face against me before she continued.

“My husband was a selfish fuck who spent our marital years flitting off with other women.” She paused, embarrassed, and I couldn’t imagine a man cheating on Miriam. Then I realized, not my Miriam. The first Miriam. The plain Miriam who appeared for no more than a few moments, but still told me all the lackluster things I needed to know to understand why her partner wasn’t investing his all in their marriage.

“With his…indiscretions…he gave me something that caused a series of miscarriages. When I just couldn’t take it anymore, I traded my life to be beautiful.” When Miriam paused, she didn’t seem finished, and I stayed silent as I waited for more.

“I molded myself into exactly what he liked. I found him, I seduced him, and I sucked every ounce of life from him.” Her body shuddered then, but not out of remorse. “And he died.”

Her hurt was evident even now. Her body shook at his mention, broken from a past she wished she could forget. And even though she gave her life to wrong him, I empathized with her. I wondered how she would feel about why I gave up mine.

Several minutes of silence passed between us before she pulled from me. “You probably think I’m crazy,” she shook her head and began to exit the bed but I grabbed her arm.

“I don’t,” I professed, my eyes intense as I stared at her. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. Nothing you could have done made you deserve that.”

Miriam stiffened, but eventually conceded back into the bed with me. “Thank you,” she breathed, tears in her eyes, and I pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you,” I emphasized, so grateful to be touching her, to be back in her bed with her.

I found myself grateful when she shuddered, clearly occupied with her pain. I didn’t want her to ask about me, about my life, about the wife I had burned as her own husband had burned her. I didn’t want her to know. I couldn’t bear the thought of her thinking of me in such a light.

It seemed like a beautiful eternity of holding Miriam before her phone on the nightstand finally tore her attention from me. Her brow furrowed as she eyed the screen and she quickly moved from the bed to answer, walking absentmindedly away from the room as she listened to the voice on the other end.

I tried to stay in bed, to not need to follow her, but luckily we weren’t apart long. Miriam reentered the room as suddenly as she’d left it. “Henry’s had a heart attack,” she told me, brow furrowed, as she begged my eyes for answers.

Immediately, I got up and began pulling my clothes on, suddenly in a rush. “We’ll be right there,” I relayed to Miriam for the person on the other end, but Miriam was no longer on the phone, instead now sitting on the bed, her shoulders slumped.

“Come on, get dressed. Let’s go.”

She turned to look at me then, her face as confused as when she held the phone. “Collin, he’s dead.”

I froze, one leg in my jeans, as I stared at her, trying to comprehend the words she had just said.

When Miriam started crying, I regained control of myself, letting my jeans slide back to the floor as I moved to be closer to her. “Are you sure?”

She shook her head, her body trembling in the cold, still air. I pulled her into my arms again and she fell into them, her sobs vibrating through my shoulder as she released them. “Was it me?” she finally breathed and I realized the fear that made her so emotional.

“Mir—”

“I mean it,” she demanded without giving me time to answer. “Is this my fault?” Her eyes pried into mine then, searching for my honesty.

“No!” I insisted before she could interrupt again, pulling her into a tight hug as I wondered if my words were true. “Of course not. Miriam, Henry’s a tool. He creates a lot of stress for himself. It’s a wonder he didn’t have one before now.”

“Collin…” she clearly didn’t buy it, but she drifted off, clearly not going to push for information she didn’t want. I had been there before, dialing an ambulance while my mark had a heart attack provoked by the stress of a change. But days after the fact?

“He seemed fine yesterday,” I offered, hoping it would let her breathe, and she did, if only for a minute.

“We need to go down there,” she insisted suddenly, pulling from me once more as she rifled through my clothes for hers. “We need to straighten his office.”

“Miriam,” I insisted, annoyed with her sudden desire to tidy. “If he’s dead, he’s dead.”

“I’m going,” she stated without looking at me, dressed as suddenly as I had undressed her before. “Are you coming or not?”


We arrived to a sign on the locked door stating that the shop was closed for the day due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’—the understatement of the century. No one was inside and Henry’s office door was slightly ajar.

“They found him earlier,” Miriam told me as she stared down the hall and I was floored at her secrecy.

“He died here?”

“He didn’t show up this morning and when the teller phoned him at lunch about a loan approval, his phone rang from down the hall.” She was welling up again and I reached out for her, again in need of her physical contact.

“Stop,” I begged her, pressing my lips to her temple as I pulled her into a hug.

“Collin, what have I done?”

“You haven’t,” I insisted, my voice firm, and though her eyes betrayed her doubt, she nodded. “Come on; you wanted to clean?”

“Collin,” she insisted then, her eyes suddenly inquisitive as they met mine once more. “Straighten. Sort through his things. Make sure there isn’t anything here to incriminate him or us.”

Was she really so level-headed in her grief? I was uncomfortable that she and Henry had a plan in case something happened to him that wasn’t shared with me, but Miriam’s methodical, confident strides to Henry’s door assured me she knew something that I didn’t, and she immediately found a binder, one that looked like every other records binder, but instead contained exactly what she was looking for, a list of instructions, information, and a list of things to delete.

“Can you clear the tapes?” she asked me without looking up, her eyes flying down the page, and I paused.

“Tapes?”

“The security tapes,” she asked half-annoyedly then, snapping her eyes to me. “In that closet there,” she gestured to a door in Henry’s office that I had never taken notice of. It had a keyhole and Miriam now passed me a key, immediately returning to her binder.

Tapes? I wondered again, the key cold in my hand. Upon opening the door, a closet with several monitors confronted me, all seemingly streaming in real time. Each TV had its own VCR and I had to take a moment to consider the impressiveness of Henry finding so many VCRs in this age.

There were a variety of cameras throughout the building, it seemed, though I had never noticed them before. And one was trained on Miriam, where she stood against Henry’s desk, assessing the pages Henry had left for her.

My curiosity was too great. I set the tape to rewind while I retrieved the rest, only returning to the screen when I held the stack. I pressed play as Henry, the older version of Henry, went through his books, doing whatever it was he did when I wasn’t around. Everything was normal. I set the tape to fast forward then, watching as the tape turned high speed.

“Collin?” Miriam called from outside the closet.

“What’s up?” I asked absentmindedly, desperate to know what the camera had seen.

“Collin, Henry’s got a weird note here.”

Henry’s attention looked up then and I pressed play, the tape soundless as it showed him annoyed by someone in the door. Was this Miriam and me?

“What did you say that mark’s name was? Urchin?”

And then I saw her. The girl from the duplex. That teen, looking far less like a teen as she strode into Henry’s office, his face evident that he didn’t want her to be there.

I dropped the tapes then, the noise of them hitting the floor nearly deafening in my state of mind. Henry was standing, they had argued.

“Collin, are you alright?” Miriam was in the doorway then but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen to look at her. “Oh, Collin, don’t watch that,” she pleaded, surely without looking at the screen.

But my eyes were glued to the small television. Henry and the teen had had a physical altercation, with the girl as the instigator, and Henry looked flustered as she finally left. I pressed fast forward again and less than 30 minutes later by the timestamp, Henry collapsed at his desk.

“Miriam,” I managed, my heart in my throat as I watched my former employer as he lay dead where Miriam now stood. “We have to go to the duplex.”

Oh thank God. Hallelujah. Sweet, sweet hallelujah. This is the best chapter seven I've ever laid eyes upon. What a scene? It supersedes all the rest with its beauty. Thank you so much for not using any of the aforementioned words from 12 review. You should know I want to quote the whole thing, but here's a few lines I adored. *Extra when bold* ------>

1. I knew I’d found the perfect pull when Miriam let out an eager gasp, punctuated with a light whine. Her hair fell into her angelic face and her eyes penetrated mine with a lust and aching desperation that drove me wild.

2. Miriam was so stunning. Every part of her, every curve, every shape, every inch of her flawless skin, was dutifully perfected in her years as a succubus and it showed. I savored each part of her, unable to think clearly of anything else.

3. Her hands weighed heavy on my chest as she balanced herself, her hips lost in a dance to the extraordinary symphony that was her. Even her thoughts were beautiful, dictated by fluidity and music when I managed to focus enough to listen. But Miriam was magical and my thoughts were too lost in her to focus on what she was thinking of me.

4. In that moment, I was hers and she was mine, and there was no one else in the world.

---In all seriousness, highly successful. This was perfect. This is the kind of dirty I want to read. This is the kind of dirty that doesn't feel, well, dirty.

It was incredibly cathartic, my breathing synced with hers, and for the first time in my life, my getting off hadn’t hurt anyone. -----Chuckle, chuckle. Love. <3

The barmaid had called it; I right and truly loved her. She was what I needed. I felt so whole with her. In her bed, in her arms, there was no imp named Stewart. Lily hadn’t let me down. The teenager and the barmaid were irrelevant. Henry was still relatively trustworthy. Sophie wasn’t gone. -----This is the best way you could have gotten the point across. Perfect. I love him reiterating the events. This says he loves her more than him harping on it. Love.

“Nothing’s changed,” I promised her as I rose to my knees, wrapping my arms around her thighs, pulling her to me as I looked up at her. “I just see you.” ----OMFG THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING HE'S EVER SAID! WHY DIDN'T I SEE THIS COMING?! OF COURSE MIRIAM USED TO BE NOT STUNNING! OF COURSE! NO WONDER SHE'S SO GREAT! NO WONDER! BEING A SUPERMODEL DOESN'T USUALLY TURN YOU INTO A BEAUTIFUL SOUL! BUT OMG! COL! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR BEING SWEET TO HER! WOW!

“I molded myself into exactly what he liked. I found him, I seduced him, and I sucked every ounce of life from him.” Her body shuddered then, but not out of remorse. “And he died.” ----Why and how the fuck did I not see this coming? Seriously? I'm so gay. Of course. This explain Miriam to a 'T.' No wonder she's been able to be so light in such a heavy world. No fucking wonder. Is she ate up with guilt like Collin? I mean, maybe, maybe not. I wouldn't be. But she seems like such a beautiful person that of course she would feel guilt. IDK. Miriam. I feel so bad for you. But I don't want you to be upset about the douche. You traded your effing soul. That's punishment enough for killing someone lol. Also, what a goddamn enigma. Collin is like the man she totally bone-killed. TRAGIC!

----OMFG, CALLED IT! COL KNOWS HE'S A TERRIBLE PERSON!

I froze, one leg in my jeans, as I stared at her, trying to comprehend the words she had just said. -----This is exactly how I felt, like I was putting on jeans and had to stop with one leg awkwardly in and one awkwardly out. Can we just stop with the curve balls? Okay? Well all know that Henry didn't go without a helping hand, okay? Obvs. You can't lead me to believe something then strip it from under me. Obvs. Gawl. I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON! I'M IN COMPLETE CONTROL! YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ME, GF!!!!!

“Of course not. Miriam, Henry’s a tool. He creates a lot of stress for himself. It’s a wonder he didn’t have one before now.” -----uHH . . . . . Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool. Henry’s a tool.

Wow, this sounds familiar. Believe I may have said this once before.

“I’m going,” she stated without looking at me, dressed as suddenly as I had undressed her before. “Are you coming or not?” ----Very clever line, revealing details about their sexy time without revealing it all. Nice. Keep me hooked like a heroin junkie. Love.

Each TV had its own VCR and I had to take a moment to consider the impressiveness of Henry finding so many VCRs in this age. ----OMFG, that is exactly what I was thinking! And what's on these fucking tapes, Mir?

----omg. i hate you. i hate you so much. i hope my terrible syntax is telling you that i hate you. i hate you. i hate you for doing this to me. how dare you. how fucking dare you.

-----LIKE WHAT THE FUCK, GF?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?! AND WHY THE FUCK DOES MIRIAM KNOW ABOUT IT!? DON'T DO THIS! DON'T LET MIRIAM BE KEEPING SECRETS FROM COLLIN!

----Gonna try to remain calm. Now I want them to go to the duplex even more than I did before. I am feeling this teen is an archdemon. I am feeling this teen has always been the center of this conspiracy. I am feeling this teen is the antagonist of this story. I am feeling I should go back and put quotes around every 'teen' because its not a goddamn teen at all. I am so mad at you. But I am so mad in a good way. Like, this awesome. The image of Col holding all those tapes and dropping them when he sees that shit. Goddamn that hit me right in the heart. I feel so betrayed and I can't really articulate why. I feel like Miriam knows something that Col doesn't, and I don't want to be mad at her for it. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe she just told him not to watch it because she didn't want him to see Henry having a "heart attack." But in the same, she and Henry had this little understanding about what to do when he passed. Idk. I feel betrayed. In a good way, though. Goddamn. I was totally in Collin's shoes there at the end. Fucking goddamn.

Love, Bf
!!!!!11!!!!!
PS. I will refuse the next chapter if they do not go to the duplex. That is all.