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

Chapter 313 - 313: The Artifact, Part Nine

As Melisa made her way back through the academy grounds toward home, her mind raced with possibilities despite Javir's warnings.

[Sure, using the memory thing for political advantage would be "ethically questionable," but is letting nim be executed any more ethical?]

She kicked a small stone, watching it skitter across the cobblestones.

[But Javir has a point too. Using magic to spy on people without their knowledge? That's pretty shady, even for a good cause.]

The streets grew more crowded as she approached the market district. People everywhere. Too many bodies. Too many opportunities for accidental contact.

She sidestepped a pair of children chasing each other, dodged around a cart piled high with vegetables, and nearly jumped out of her skin when a street vendor tried to press a sample into her hand.

"No touching!" she yelped, earning herself a bewildered look from the vendor.

[This is going to be a long three to five days.]

But as she continued walking, a new thought began to take shape. What if there was a middle ground? A way to use this strange ability that wasn't purely selfish but wasn't completely passive either?

Maybe she couldn't use it to extract political secrets from Aria, but what about using it to better understand the people in her life?

[Like Armia. I could better understand what she's going through with the whole "I want to be seen as human" thing. Or Raven, to figure out why her "secrets" are so... boring.]

By the time Melisa reached Javir's manor, she'd almost convinced herself that maybe, just maybe, there was a silver lining to this weird magical mishap after all.

She opened the door cautiously, listening for signs of who might be home.

"Hello?" she called out, hovering in the entryway.

"In the kitchen!" Margaret's voice replied. "Just finished lunch if you're hungry!"

[Mom's cooking? Hell yes.]

Melisa headed toward the kitchen, mouth already watering. The smell hit her before she even reached the doorway – fresh bread, roasted herbs, something sweet and tangy.

Margaret stood at the counter, her back to Melisa, slicing something. Her tail swung with gusto behind her, the heart-shaped tip flicking a little back and forth.

"Smells incredible," Melisa said, walking over. "What did you make?"

Margaret turned, beaming.

"Roasted duck with cherry glaze, herbed potatoes, and fresh greens from the market," she announced proudly. "I thought we could all use something special after... well, everything that's been happening."

She wiped her hands on her apron and moved toward Melisa, arms outstretched for a hug.

[Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.]

Melisa sidestepped quickly, suddenly fascinated by the potatoes still steaming in their dish.

"Wow, these look amazing! Did you use that rosemary from the garden? And is that garlic I smell?" She babbled, completely obvious.

"Yes to both," Margaret said slowly, lowering her arms. "Melisa, is everything alright? You're acting strange."

"Me? Strange? No, definitely not. Just, uh, really excited about these potatoes. Super enthusiastic about root vegetables in general, you know me!"

Margaret's brow furrowed with concern.

"Darling, you're a terrible liar. Always have been. What's wrong?" She reached for Melisa's hand.

Melisa jerked back, nearly knocking over a chair.

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong! I just... I have... nim fever!"

"Nim fever?" Margaret repeated, completely deadpan. "You never get fevers."

"New condition! Very rare! Highly contagious. Doc says no touching for a few days."

Margaret's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Melisa..."

Melisa opened her mouth,

"That does sound like them."

"Just... don't touch me until Javir figures out how to fix this, okay?"

Margaret snorted, then reached out and lightly pushed Melisa's shoulder.

"You can't possibly expect me to believe—"

The world tilted.

Melisa was suddenly in her parents' bedroom, seeing through Margaret's eyes. She was on top of Melistair, riding him with abandon, her massive breasts bouncing with each movement. Melistair's hands gripped her hips, helping her rise and fall on his cock.

"Fuck, Margaret," he groaned, his red eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "You're so wet today."

[Gods, I needed this,] Margaret's voice echoed in Melisa's mind. [Nothing like good dick after a frustrating day. Kimiko must be so jealous that she doesn't get to taste this more often... almost makes me want to invite her to join us. Again.]

"You like that?" Margaret purred, leaning down to bite Melistair's ear. "Wait until you see what I want to try next."

Melisa gasped as the vision ended, finding herself back in the sitting room. Margaret was staring at her with a shocked expression.

Margaret smiled nervously.

"Uhm... Did you just...?"

"TOLD YOU!" Melisa threw her hands up, her face burning violet. "You fantasized about Aunt Kimiko!"

Margaret's cheeks turned a darker shade of purple.

"I... that was private."

"No kidding!" Melisa couldn't help but laugh despite her embarrassment. "Dad has no idea what you're thinking, does he?"

Margaret's cheeks turned a darker shade of purple.

"Well... He could likely guess." Margaret laughed, her embarrassment fading into amusement at Melisa's discomfort. "And if we're comparing awkward revelations here, I'm pretty sure I've walked in on you and Isabella enough times to balance the scales."

"That's different!" Melisa protested, dropping her hands.

"How is that different?"

"She's not my sister!"

"No..." Margaret replied, smirking. "Just your cousin."

Melisa opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"Touché."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment.

"So..." Margaret finally said. "Three to five days of this, huh?"

"According to Javir." Melisa nodded. "Unless she finds another solution."

"Well then." Margaret stood up with determination. "I'd better warn your father to keep his distance. And possibly Kimiko too, just in case."

"I tried gloves. They don't work."

"Of course not. That would be too simple." Margaret shook her head, but she was smiling. "Your life is never boring, is it?"

"Not since I got here," Melisa agreed. "Though I could do with a bit less of... whatever that was."

"Fair enough," Margaret chuckled. She winked. "I'll try to think pure thoughts around you for the next few days."

"I'd appreciate that." Melisa paused. "By the way, about Hazel and the academy..."

Margaret raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"She really wants to visit sometime. Maybe see what it's like."

"She's too young."

"Just a visit," Melisa insisted. "Not to study. I could show her around. It might be good for her to see what she can work toward."

"Hm..." Margaret seemed to consider this for a moment. "We'll see. When she's not actively tracking mud across my entire house, perhaps."

Melisa grinned.

"So that's a maybe?"

"That's a 'we'll talk about it later.'" But there was a softness in Margaret's eyes that Melisa recognized as her giving-in look.

[Victory!] Melisa thought, trying not to let her smile get too smug.