A woman on the brink of .

Lochra, to my eyes, seemed like last embers in a fireplace. The last glowing speck amidst a sea of ash. It took only a thought for me to see the aura in her, my vision going sharp upon command.

I looked at Cuanne, who bore a faint silver glow. "You took ever bit of Pnuema she had, and when she was empty you started on her life."

I thought of the farm girl, and nodded. "I'm surpised theres anything left."

"It was a near thing." Cuanna laughed bitterly. "I screamed for you to stop. I was surprised when you did."

I could only remember that faintly, like the fleeting shadow of a dream. I gave a half-hearted shrug and crossed the room to Lochra, my eyes returning to a mundane spectrum.

She looked like shit. Her face had a burn slashed across it, jagged and vivid. Her body was covered in bandages, some of them showing moist spots. The lightning, I realized, my touch had electrocuted her and left a litany of burns.

I looked at her, a powerful adversary lain low, and felt myself harden. I wondered idly, breifly, if there had ever been a version of me who'd be disgusted with that. If that possibility had existed.

But, no. Even if there had been, I couldn’t turn back; the marks on my soul were deeper than the changes to my body, and turning back felt like running.

So the demon, goat-legged and horned, climed atop the bed with his curved sword at reached for the wounded woman's cunt.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Cuanne asked, a hint of an accent entering her voice.

"I'm an Incubus, I drain life with sex, putting it back requires the same thing."

"An Incubus?" She said, incredulous. "No, you're not."

Which was fair, honestly. I had been Cambion, blood of the demon, and that wasnt quite the same thing. And I had changed; could someone change so much and still be considered the same thing? The same person, even? I could track the changes, and my choices, and follow the path that took me from my home to this hermit hut. I could look back and it made sense, but that boy and I were strangers.

"Perhaps not, but it is part of me." I felt myself smile. "Descendants of the same line, perhaps."

". . .If it will save her." Cuanne lifted an assenting hand and turned away. I mounted Lochra, my cock sliding into her brutalized slit.

Right away I felt the connection and understood the condition of her soul. Much of her vital **** had been consumed, an energy I was only now realizing existed. It wasn’t magic, it didn’t quite feel the same, but it was similar enough.

And in myself, they were intrinsically linked. What Cuanne had called Pnuema, what I'd heard referred to as mana, what I'd called magic energy, was iron. And within me it was steel, the closest of cousins.

An alloy of two primal forces.

I opened a channel between us and let my energy trickle into her. With focus, I could send it to that deep place within her, beneath the resevoir where magic dwelt.

Her breathing grew stronger, more sure, and I pulled out. I had enough energy left to sustain my human body for a few weeks, if I used no power.

In this body, I suspected I had less.

But I had time and Lochra had a chance, though her wounds remained severe.

And those wounds were of interest to me. I could sense some of my energy within them, a strain of corruption that was uniquely mine. I suspected that I'd be able to remove the darkness in them, even if I couldn’t heal the burns themselves.

On the other hand, just leaving them there could probably be considered a breach of contract. There was no tell what effect it would have on her.