Shadow of the Seraph, page 1
Shadow of the Seraph
A Seraph Universe Novel
Published by Jade Fantasy
Copyright © 2020-2021 Sarah Hawke
Cover Art by Tony Tzanoukakis
Edited by Sean L.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or used fictitiously.
All rights reserved.
Dedication
I want to offer a special thanks to all my wonderful supporters on Patreon, especially Alan, David, Dwight, Eidolon, Joseph, Tom, Timothy, Commissar, Michael B., Michael M., Joe, Dumblindeaf, Manoxis, Sean, and Noah.
Double mega thanks to my super patrons Alcofribas, Billy, Lamar, and Paul. Without your support, none of this would be possible.
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1
The Gift
The running lights on the small shuttlecraft were barely bright enough to cut through the oppressive gray gloom of the moon’s noxious atmosphere, but the approaching vessel’s sleek, V-shaped profile did became plainly visible once it passed through the translucent energy dome protecting the compound. Dorian Garr’s heart raced in his chest as he watched the maintenance drones guide the shuttle down onto the landing pad. When the doors opened and the ramp extended, he held his breath and anxiously balled his hands into fists at his side.
This is it. This is when I finally get to meet her.
“Unbelievable,” Samir Garr growled from beside his only son. “She was supposed to be here an hour ago.”
“We live two hundred parsecs from the closest inhabitable planet.”
“I wouldn’t care if we were a thousand parsecs away—I paid for a product, and I expect it to be delivered on time.” Samir grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms over the chest of his immaculately tailored black suit. “If I ran Garr Industries like this, our competitors would eat us alive.”
Dorian sighed softly and tried not to roll his eyes. If nothing else, being annoyed with his father was at least helping tamp down the worst of his anxiety. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. He had expected all the usual fanfare for his birthday—last year had featured a private screening of an unreleased holo-vid blockbuster followed by a massive party in the compound (attended by his father’s contemptible business associates rather than actual friends, of course). But for Dorian’s twentieth birthday, his father had apparently wanted to do something special. The most amazing part was that Samir had somehow kept this present secret for three years until a few hours ago.
Dorian was still trying to mentally prepare himself when two figures walked down the shuttle’s landing ramp. The first was a tall, professional-looking human man wearing a white suit, while the second was a young Neyris female. Dorian couldn’t actually see her yet—her entire body was concealed beneath a bulky gray cloak. He did spot a thin leather leash snaking out from inside the hood, however, and the human man tugged on it to lead the girl across the landing platform toward the compound.
“Remember, this isn’t the time for politeness,” Samir said, straightening his back and setting his square jaw in stone. The gray hairs in his neatly trimmed beard seemed to be growing more numerous by the day. “I paid a fortune for this yellow cunt. If she has the slightest imperfection, I want you to—”
“I understand,” Dorian insisted. They’d already had this conversation so many times he had already lost count.
“Good.” Samir eyed his son for a moment before forcing an awkward smile. “I wouldn’t want you to be upset on your birthday.”
Dorian suppressed a snort. His father didn’t really give a damn about that, of course. Samir Garr, the “Mech Magnate” of the Viraxes Belt, was far less concerned about his son’s happiness than about the company’s profits. The fact that the two were inextricably linked was the only reason Samir had purchased this girl in the first place. Dorian’s innovations were responsible for transforming Garr Industries from a third-rate company to the sector’s largest mech manufacturer in the span of just a few years.
Dorian had been stuck on this remote moon the entire time, completely separated from family, friends, and anything resembling civilization. He understood that the quarantine was necessary to some extent—this was one of the few places in the sector he was safe from their enemies—but the isolation still got to him. Samir’s solution to that little problem was to buy his son a Succubus and hope that having a personal fucktoy around would keep Dorian focused and productive.
The sad part is that it might actually work.
The handler waved in respectful greeting as he approached the compound entrance, his pristine white suit glimmering in the bright lights. The two sentinel mechs standing guard outside the breezeway fell into formation behind the two arrivals, and the doors whooshed open once the security scanners completed their quick sweep for weapons and explosives. When the group entered the reception foyer, the handler immediately offered his hosts a warm bow.
“I humbly apologize for my tardiness, Master Garr,” the man said in a deep, cultured voice.
“You should,” Samir said with a snort. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”
The other man chuckled softly. “Well, as you know, the industry standard is between sixteen and twenty solar cycles for a fully mature Succubus. Our visionary gestation techniques have allowed us to—”
“You’ve already made your sale,” Samir said with dismissive wave. “But your employer told me that Joranis would be the one to deliver her.”
“Unfortunately, the recent terrorist attack on Praxius Three prevented him from making the delivery in person. He knew you were eager to receive your merchandise, however, so he sent me instead.” The man smiled and offered a slight bow. “Narel Volek, at your service.”
“How nice for you,” Samir muttered, taking a step closer and narrowing his eyes at the shrouded woman. “Well, Mister Volek, I’m not here to listen to another pitch. Just show us the merchandise.”
Volek bowed again. “With pleasure, sir.”
While his right hand kept a firm hold on the leash, his left deftly grabbed the cloak as if preparing to pull a canvas off a shiny new aircar. Dorian held his breath in anticipation, wondering what a hundred-million-credit female would look like…
He was not disappointed.
The girl was so breathtakingly beautiful she almost didn’t seem real. She was slender and buxom all at once, and her flawless yellow skin was so smooth it almost seemed to glow. All five of her veroshi—the thick, tentacle-like appendages sprouting from her head like vines—were decorated with silver rings, and two of them draped down over her shoulders and breasts almost like long bangs of hair. She was unmistakably alien, yet her soft face, high cheekbones, and curvaceous silhouette also marked her as unmistakably female. She was clad in a golden two-piece bikini with a short skirt of translucent red fabric dangling from her hips, giving everyone a perfect, unobstructed view of her flat stomach and shapely legs. Her green eyes sparkled like gemstones as they fastened upon Dorian.
“Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Volek asked, tossing the shroud to one of the mechs. “Bred to your exact specifications.”
Dorian swallowed and tried not to melt beneath the raw, unbound desire in the girl’s eyes. She couldn’t talk yet—her mouth was filled with a red ball-gag, and her wrists were cuffed behind her back—but the tips of her veroshi were all twirling in anticipation, and she looked ready to pounce on him if she weren’t bound and collared.
By the Seraph, she’s real. She’s real and she wants to be mine…
[Do you wish me to perform a bio-scan, sir? I should be able to detect any grievous imperfections in her genetic matrix.]
Dorian flinched in surprise. Ghost’s holographic avatar had retreated back into Dorian’s neural implant when he’d left his quarters, but that just meant the AI could speak directly into his mind instead. He probably should have shut the implant down, too. Ghost was nothing if not a mood killer.
“Not bad,” Samir said as he stepped forward to circle around the Succubus and inspect her. “But she’s definitely shorter than I ordered…”
“The complexity of Neyris genetics means there are often small but unavoidable variations between the design template and the final product,” Volek replied with the unflappable ease of a career salesman. “Regardless, she is—”
“Strange how you didn’t mention that possibility when I purchased her,” Samir said, his eyes narrowing as he stopped directly behind the girl. “If my mechs were half a millimeter off their specifications when I delivered them, my customers would demand a refund.”
“With all due respect, Master Garr, cloning and psycho-genetic manipulation are far more complicated than robotics.”
Samir shot a withering glare at the other man. “How dare you—”
“It’s fine, Dad,” Dorian interrupted, forcing himself to breathe. He took a step closer and tried to avoid looking at the Succubus directly but found it literally impossible. Her green gaze was like a carnal singularity. Sweat broke out under the collar of his jumpsuit.
He could feel his father glowering at him over the girl’s shoulder even without looking. Even if the old man were happy with the product—which he literally never was—he still would have complained in the hopes of getting a partial refund. It was just his way.
“You haven’t even touched her yet,” Samir said.
Dorian swallowed and glanced over to the handler. Having his own personal sex toy delivered to him in front of his father was embarrassing enough, but he had absolutely no interest in even talking to this girl with a total stranger around…
“Come on, grab her tits,” Samir demanded. “I don’t want you complaining in a week because she’s a saggy mess.”
“Dad, please,” Dorian said through gritted teeth, his cheeks reddening. “This isn’t—”
“Fine, I’ll do it myself,” his father growled as he reached around beneath the girl’s bikini top and harshly groped both her breasts. She was so poised she didn’t even bat an eyelash; she continued staring straight at Dorian, even when his father reared back and smacked her buttocks beneath her translucent skirt.
“Our third generation of Succubi possess exceptional durability as well as performance,” Volek said, chuckling. “You can be as rough with her as you’d like—within reason, of course. She will serve your son faithfully throughout his life.”
“She had better,” Samir said, backing away and eyeing the girl up and down again. “If not, I guarantee I’ll be on your doorstep demanding my credits.”
The handler smiled politely. “I’m afraid that all purchases are final, Master Garr. As you know, we splice all of our Succubi with Velothi genes now. Your son can Imprint himself upon her to ensure a more potent connection…and once he does, her value will drop considerably.”
Samir grunted. “She can only be Imprinted through her cunt, right? You had better try out her other holes first, then.”
“Dad!” Dorian snarled, his anger and embarrassment finally boiling over. “By the Seraph…”
“There’s no point in being coy about it,” Samir said. “I ordered you a toy, not a wife. She has one purpose in this universe, and she had better be good at it.”
“Our clients are never dissatisfied with our products, I assure you,” Volek said, his focus shifting to Dorian. “She will effortlessly adapt to your needs, no matter how dramatically they change over time. Neyris are very perceptive by nature even before we tinker with their genetic code.”
Dorian forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but at least that was helping contain his arousal. Just standing next to this woman was so intoxicating he could barely stand upright. He had been reading stories about Succubi ever since he had stumbled across the term on the Holosphere, yet somehow even the holo-vids hadn’t done this girl justice. There was a reason they cost as much as a small moon.
“Let’s assume her body is acceptable,” Samir said. “What about her mind? I’ve had serious doubts about your accelerated growth cycle from the beginning. I might not have ordered my son a wife, but I don’t want her to have the brain of a gutter whore, either.”
“Our flash education techniques are second to none,” Volek said smoothly. “Thanks to our company’s discreet location outside of Convectorate space and beyond its legal restraints, we are able to implant whatever knowledge we desire. History, science, culture…she can effortlessly carry a conversation on a variety of topics. She knows everything needed to be a perfect companion at the dining table—or on her knees beneath it, if you prefer.”
Samir snorted. “Well, I hope you haven’t saddled her with obnoxious opinions.”
“Absolutely not,” the handler said with a chuckle. “But there’s only so much I can tell you. Perhaps you would like to meet her yourself?”
Samir folded his arms over his chest. “Now is as good a time as any.”
Volek smiled as he unfastened the woman’s gag. Her eyes remained locked on Dorian the entire time, and he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way her veroshi moved like cat tails. From what he’d read about Neyris body language, the comparison was apt—the movements of her veroshi were a window into her mood. And right now, that mood seemed to be “on the verge of exploding with anticipation.”
“All right, here we go,” Volek said as he popped the gag free. “Go ahead and introduce yourself, dear.”
The Succubus gasped once her mouth was clear, and a pink tongue immediately emerged and seductively licked her painted red lips. “Master Dorian,” she said breathlessly. “My name is Kaya, and I’ve waited my whole life to meet you!”
Dorian’s knees wobbled, and he gave up any hope of trying to conceal his erection even in his relatively baggy work jumpsuit.
Fuck, I should have insisted that I meet her alone no matter how much Dad complained!
“He’s not your master yet, girl,” Samir said sternly. “I still need to make certain you’re worth the credits I paid for you.”
Kaya dragged her eyes away from Dorian so reluctantly it almost seemed like it caused her pain. “My lord,” she said, lowering her head in deference. “I cannot thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to serve your son. I assure you, I will be the most loyal and faithful companion he—”
“You should thank me for creating you,” Samir said with a contemptuous snort. “If I hadn’t ordered you, you’d still be goo inside a test tube somewhere. I’m the only reason you exist.”
The girl looked flustered for a second. “I-I understand, my lord, and I only wish to—”
“Let’s start with a basic test, hmm?” Samir interrupted. “A single event has dominated the Holosphere for the past week. What is it?”
Kaya didn’t even hesitate. “The Dowd attack in the Tarana System,” she said. “More specifically, the revelation that Convectorate authorities attempted to cover up the extent of the devastation.”
Samir turned to the handler. “So, she is fully updated on current events, then?”
“Absolutely,” Volek said proudly. “Her flash training didn’t stop until she stepped off the shuttle a few minutes ago, and she is more than capable of continuing to learn as needed.”
Dorian sighed. “Dad, you don’t have to—”
“Your handler just mentioned the terrorist attack on Praxius Three,” Samir went on, undeterred. “When the Seraphim Union took credit, what was the Convectorate’s response?”
“I beg your pardon, my lord, but the Union never officially took credit for the attack,” Kaya said carefully. “Unless you are referring to the detention center bombing on New Thedia seven months ago yesterday?”
Samir humphed. “Clever girl,” he said, shifting his eyes back to Volek. “What about philosophy? Mathematics?”
“Her flash education module was configured to your exact specifications, Master Garr,” the man replied with practiced patience. “She is proficient in the social sciences but ignorant of the hard sciences; she knows a great deal about history but has not formed her own opinions on major events.”
“Clever, but not too clever,” Samir said, circling the Succubus again. “Just like a woman should be.”
Dorian balled his hands into fists but kept them at his side. He was seriously tempted to just grab Kaya and sprint to his quarters, and not just because of what he wanted to do to her—or have her do to him. He really just wanted to spare her having to endure his father treating her so poorly.
Samir eventually reached out and placed his fingertips on the girl’s flat stomach, tracing the faint contours of her abdomen. “She is fixed, yes?”
“All Succubi are infertile by design, regardless of base species,” Volek confirmed. “Most of our customers would rather not have to worry about the burden of contraception.”
“And naturally it helps protect the secrets of your genetic material,” Samir said with a knowing snicker. “I’m sure your bosses don’t want a horde of yellow mongrels running around with your precious cloning secrets all over their DNA.”
“Actually, sir, we can easily activate a fertility module if such a feature is desired at a later date. Your original purchase didn’t specify that your son wanted to breed her, but if he does—”
“I don’t want him to breed her, and that’s what matters. She’s a toy, not an incubator.”
“Dad, there’s nothing else to say,” Dorian insisted, mortified to the point he could barely speak. “She’s perfect!”
