Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

Melisa watched her father's back as they made their way through Syux's crowded streets. The morning crowd parted before them like water around a particularly murderous rock.

[Okay, this is getting ridiculous,] she thought, noting how even humans who normally crossed the street to avoid nim were taking one look at Melistair's face and deciding today was a great day for an impromptu jog in the opposite direction.

"Dad," she said, quickening her pace to walk beside him, "you're kind of radiating 'about to commit homicide' energy right now."

"Am I?" His voice could have frozen lava.

"Look, I get it. If he really did try to kill us, I'll help you hide the body, trust me. But maybe dial back the murder face until we know for sure?" She giggled for good measure.

That got through. Melistair's shoulders relaxed slightly, though his expression remained stormy.

"Sorry, I... guess I'm letting my emotions get the better of me. I'll try to calm down."

[... Keyword being: "try", I guess.]

The construction site loomed ahead of them, already busy with activity despite the early hour. Scaffolding stretched toward the sky like the skeleton of some massive beast, workers crawling over it like particularly industrious ants.

They reached the site's entrance. A bored-looking guard barely glanced at Melistair's worker's badge before waving them through.

[Great security,] Melisa thought. [No wonder nim keep managing to burn shit down.]

"I should probably hang back," she said quietly. "Let you get him alone first."

Melistair nodded.

"There's a storage area behind the main structure. I'll bring him there."

"And I'll be watching from..." Melisa glanced around, spotting a half-finished wall with convenient shadows, "right over there. Close enough to help if needed, far enough not to spook him."

"When did you get so good at this sort of thing?"

"Please," Melisa rolled her eyes. "I've been sneaking around trying not to get assassinated for years."

Melistair blinked.

"... Alright. Go hide. I'll get Rax."

"Gotcha!"

[And then we find out if nine years of friendship means anything,] Melisa thought, slipping into the shadows. [Or if I'm about to help my father dispose of a body.]

She watched him walk away, already rehearsing her spells. Just in case.

[Though honestly,] she mused, settling in to wait, [the real question isn't whether I'll have to kill someone today. It's whether I'll be able to stop Dad from doing it first.]

---

{Melistair}

As Melistair neared the construction site, he tried to calm down further. Deep breaths. That sort of thing.

Melistair caught Melisa giving him a thumbs-up from her hiding spot as he grabbed his tools. His daughter had managed to find the one patch of shadow that gave her a perfect view of the whole site while keeping her mostly hidden.

[Sometimes I forget she's not just that clumsy kid anymore,] he thought, setting up his workstation. [Though the constant sex jokes do help.]

He'd barely started pretending to check his equipment when he heard the familiar voice.

"Mel! Brother, you're late today!"

Melistair's hands tightened on his hammer. Nine years of friendship made him turn automatically, made him smile on reflex.

Rax looked exactly the same as always – broad shoulders, easy grin, purple skin darkened by hours in the sun. He walked over like he hadn't possibly tried to murder Melistair's entire family.

[Did you think about Hazel?] Melistair wanted to ask. [When you gave the order, did you imagine myself and my family burning to ashes?]

Again, he really wanted to believe this had somehow been an accident.

Instead of flipping out then and there, he said:

"Yeah, rough morning. Actually, could you help me with something? Behind the storage area?"

"Of course!" Rax clapped him on the shoulder. The same gesture he'd made a thousand times before. "Lead the way, brother."

[Don't call me brother,] Melistair thought. [Not until I know.]

He could feel Melisa's eyes on them as they walked. His daughter was probably already planning twelve different ways to dispose of the body.

[Though if he really did try to kill Hazel, I might beat her to it.]

"So how's the family?" Rax asked as they walked. "Little Hazel still wanting to be a baker?"

Melistair's vision went red for a moment.

[How dare you,] he thought, his hands itching to wrap around Rax's throat. [How fucking dare you ask about her like you care.]

"They're fine," he managed. "All alive and well."

Something in his tone must have given him away. Rax's steps faltered slightly.

[Good,] Melistair thought. [Be nervous. Be very fucking nervous.]

They reached the storage area. The sounds of construction faded slightly here, muffled by stacks of materials and half-finished walls. Somewhere nearby, his daughter was watching, again, ready to either help him hide a body or... well, really just help him hide a body.

Rax turned to face him, that familiar grin already fading.

"Mel? What's wrong?"

[Nine years,] Melistair thought. [Nine years of friendship, and now I have to ask if you tried to burn my daughter alive.]

"Tell me about the attack on Javir's house," he said quietly.

The color drained from Rax's face.

His expression slowly morphed. Melistair crossed his arms, his own expression changing.

Somewhere in the shadows, he heard Melisa's sharp intake of breath. He couldn't blame her.

Nine years of friendship hung in the air between them. Nine years of shared meals, of watching their children grow, of building a life in this city that would rather see them dead or enslaved.

[Funny,] Melistair thought. [How fast 'brother' can turn to 'betrayer.']

Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe nine years meant something after all.

But Melistair had seen that same look before – that moment when someone realizes everything's about to change. When the carefully constructed lies start crumbling.

He'd worn it himself, the day he discovered what humans had done to nim history.

Behind him, Melisa was probably already planning how to dispose of a body. His daughter had developed quite the talent for solving problems permanently.

[Margaret would be proud,] he thought, watching Rax's expression shift. [Though hopefully not as proud as she'll be if I'm wrong about this.]

Time seemed to slow. In the distance, workers shouted and hammered, unaware that their mundane morning was about to become something else entirely.

And Melistair waited for his friend to speak.