Succubi Unplugged - #1

The streetlamps all along the sidewalk just died on me. Usually the halogen wisps get finicky during the day, play tag and squat back down on their megawatt lamp-pole loveseats at night. That's why these local, even city-wide blackouts in the evening just didn't fit. Something had the wisps spooked and they didn't give a damn what the City Ordinance Druid Union (CODU) threatened them with.

I knew from personal experience that local store owners--down at Jukes Plaza on 202nd and the adult boutiques nearby--were getting pissed. Every day it was, "Mr. Daniel, what's going up? Who done this shit?"

Hell, the lawyers and insurance brokers in my office complex planned their lunch hours around blazing City Hall with fiery pillars of lawsuits, for all the respective cases and claim forms leveled at their offices because of CODU negligence. Theft was up; premiums were way up; people even thought some terrorist Jihad bullshit was going on.

Not that I was complaining. I had security installation appointments booked solid for three months; I was even getting reagents on back-order just to keep up. I made more from glyph wards than mass exorcisms or even tantric demon sex possessions. Being a Sorcerer was finally paying off.

Anyway, there I was freezing in the freon grip of late evening Limbo. I had a late night appointment at my office courtesy of some "L.E.A.T.I. Metzol" woman, creature, something; maybe a discreet five time divorcee Arab who liked his females with (and from) extra dimensions. That thing wasn't for another ten minutes, though, and I was just about there. I figured the frolicking muggers could see in the dark as well as I could, so I stopped for a sec and caught my breath on the hill up to my office.

For all the hassle of Downtown, the view was always worth it. Just this huge glowing forest of oak, ash and other hardy trees laid out at your feet for as far as you bothered looking. It was the most attractive power station I'd ever seen. The Grove scintillated at night like a sea of white-gold christmas lights on a bunch of timers.

It still bothered a lot of the older people and especially City Hall. Somehow the whole thing had sprung up out of a landfill in the slums about thirty years ago, leveling off several hundreds acres like an eco-terrorist fungus. That's when the Druids started running for and winning local and municipal offices, which led to CODU--basically a cabal of "spiritual" civil engineering nature fanatics. Sure there was pandemonium, chaos, dogs and cats playing poker, but after a while people chilled and just commuted underneath the Grove in 'Earth Safe tm' organic tunnels. Being an Akron native myself, I always just thought the place was pretty.

As the wisps swooped back onto their energy stalks I glanced down at my analog watch. Shit. I beat holy hell up the sidewalk, huffing up adobe stairs two at a time until I swung into the lift and ripped my trenchcoat on the rickety metal door. I admired the new law office graffiti splattered between levels. The lawyers around downtown always had a white collar tribal warfare thing going on, sneaking in to tag competitor's office buildings and represent their crew.

Finally I jumped out onto the 8th floor and crab-scuttled to my office at a low squat, readying an incantation just in case. I peered at my door. I gave a restrained nod to it. The air growled back. It looked like I'd gotten there first; which was good, considering my office guardian hated most night visitors. It barely tolerated me and I'd summoned the damned thing out of the Etheric equivalent of Gary, Indiana.

I waved off the wards and stepped through the door, flicking on the electro-arboreal lights. The bright green-cyan glow of lichen warmed up like a 50's style television set through the cramped office.

All in all it was a cozy cliche. The place was badly lit and smelled liked Eau de Brimstone (from our more fragrant clientele), bedecked with clunky metal chairs, metal pens, some potted plants, a threadbare couch and magazines older than I was. Since we actually had clients nowadays, my secretary Reneé (she preferred "Ren") had straightened out the bookshelves and the informational pamphlet rack. I'd written a few winners over the years, like "Ten steps to Demon free living" and "Extra-dimensional pets and play-things: what you need to know".

A lovely bottle of Stolichnaya crossed its swooning legs on top of my desk. I made a mental note to buy Ren lunch. I screwed off the top and tongued the little velvet ridges, smiling as I pulled back one then two long swigs; I try pleasure before business if I can help it. Suddenly the door exploded in tiny thunderous knocks. I put the bottle near the foot of my metal desk and asked the door guardian to open up shop.

What walked through the door was astounding.