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There was a distinct air of discomfort when Michael awoke the following day. Another late morning. Another ill feeling. He remembered last night in full — in its sinful glory.

He looked around. He was alone in the bed.

Standing up, throwing on the nearest available clothes, he hobbled onto the upstairs landing. Groggily he passed the many doors to other rooms and leaned on the banisters. The stairs fell away in a tired haze; he watched the flight of steps blur, the path to the ground floor obscured. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. A small headache informed him he didn't get the right amount of sleep. Yeah, wasn't exactly sleeping all night...

His hands gripped the wooden barrier. Shame ate at his conscience. How could he have done that? How could he do something so illegal? So fundamentally...immoral!?

What have I done? The fuck did I do!?

With a sigh he turned from the vertigo-inducing stairwell and stood at the centre of the landing. The sharpness in his temples subsided. He could pay attention to the sounds of his surroundings. Were other people up?

Was mom?

He listened. Her shower was running. She's up.

He went to her bedroom door. Strangely, he felt spurred on by their midnight encounter, as if he wanted confirmation it really took place. He was already thinking about how to address the issue as his fingers fumbled with the knob and led him inside. Uma's room was tidy. The king-sized bed seemed emptier given the absence of his father. A pity he wasn't able to stick around. Or maybe it's a stroke of luck...what would've happened if he discovered them in a compromising position? He could only shudder at the notion.

He didn't feel as bad as he thought he should. Oh, the badness was there — lurking in the shadows, the pieces of his soul that fantasized about filth and fornication — but not much else. Michael's shame withered quickly after remembering the act. In its place was another feeling: curiosity.

There were questions:

Why did she do this?

Why did I let her?

Why do I not feel worse?

And why do I want...more?

Lots of questions. And he lacked the courage to ask but a handful of softballs.

The bathroom door loomed large. He pressed him palm against the grain and moved close. His mouth was dry. Lips adhered together when opening his mouth soon broke apart as words creakily emerged.

“Mom...last night...were you...was I..."

Uma evidently heard him moving outside before speaking. The door swung open after his utterance, releasing the shower's pressurised hiss to the room beyond. Michael was stunned. She was naked. Her face held a blank expression, a calmness that suggested some combination of annoyance and empathy. She stepped forward, stopping to reach behind and turn off the shower. Her delicious body dripped water, newly-clean. She appeared not to care about her nakedness in front of her son. Then again, they'd shot way past that level of taboo.

“Morning baby," she purred, her irises a fiery purple, matching her morning vigour, “are you rested?"

“I am," he stammered. Now or never! “Mom, did you—"

She lunged forward and kissed him. Her lips, damp from the rushing water, blessed his arid own. Her body moved close. They were held together in a loving embrace. His hands refused to behave, settling on her lower back, fighting temptation to descend further. The kiss broke, and their eyes locked. Uma's expression became cheerier.

She finally spoke: “I did. Did you enjoy it?"

Michael was lost for words. It took a while to muster a response. She noticed this, and smiled warmly. Her motherliness shone through. “Sweetie," she said, laying a hand on him, casually running from his shoulder to his neck, “I understand you feel confused. Things have changed between us. But I'm still your mother, right? And I'll do anything to keep you safe and happy."

The pause between them stretched on unto eternity. He was stunned by her bareness, her inviting curves...

At last he raised a question: “why?"

“You'll learn in time. I don't want to worry you with the future. Just be yourself. Explore the town, get used to the neighbourhood...learn to leave all that heavy stuff to mommy. Okay?"

“I...um...okay."

“Thanks Mikey."

They remained together awhile. Michael removed his hands from her body, placing them by his sides respectfully. Uma rubbed sleep from his eyes, letting out a low hum. Her next words came in a whisper, sensually flowing from her pretty mouth...

“If you want...we can have some fun later on."

Michael gulped. “I—"

“Not right now though. I don't want to waste a shower getting dirty all over again."

“Mom, this isn't right..."

A serious glare was sent his way. “Cut that out Mikey! Stop thinking about right and wrong, and your naive perception of it." She paused. “I know that sounded harsh but you love me, yeah?"

“Yeah."

“And what's wrong about expressing that love?"

“But—"

“Shush. I won't hear another word of complaint from you, Michael Eriksson! You're a grown man, with a man's needs. I showed you a way of expressing our love that matched those needs. I can see in your eyes that you liked it." It's there — a tell-tale glimmer from you soul calling to me.

His head lowered. “I...I did...I do!"

“Then what's there to complain about?"

He turned his head. She could sense the conflict raging within.

“Just...feels...weird."

“I don't want you to feel weird honey. Tell you what, if you need some space, I can get out of your hair."

“Thanks mom."

As their conversation ended, his instincts told him to sign off with something intimate. Michael felt unsure of whether to prompt a 'goodbye' kiss. He nudged forward regardless, head tentatively closing in on hers. She leaped at the chance, grabbing his cheeks, giving him another passionate smooch. Positively breathtaking. Their lips mashed over and over, tongues entering the fray. Murmuring amidst their sloppy kiss, Uma felt a rush of joy. Her son accepted their new love! She placed his hands on her breasts, offering her bounty to his teenage touch. Michael — in surprise — pulled back. He gawped at her, fingers sinking into the softness of her bosom. The thin layer of water slicked his roughened palms.

“Give mommy some time to get dressed," she said, stroking his hands as they supported her plump mounds, “we can discuss this later."

“Yes mom."

* * *

The front door rattled as someone knocked on it's sturdy exterior. No bell, just the sharp crack of knuckle on wood. Michael was the only person downstairs, so he took it upon himself to answer. Crabby, and trying his best to push his mother's advances from his mind, he walked to the door. Opening it, he saw a familiar face.

“Jacob."

“Hey bro. Long time no see."

Long time? “It's been two days."

“Correction: two nights. You had full access to your big bro on Monday."

“Yeah, before you went off to find a drinking spot. It's Wednesday you moron!"

Jacob shrugged. “Like I said, two nights. Now if I turned up hours later than now — then you call it two whole days."

Michael shook his head. One minute in and he dreaded further conversation. “What the fuck are you talking about!?"

Jacob barged past him. “Never mind what I've been up to," he said with a cocky chirp, “what's been happenin' in the new house? Eh? Gettin' used to the place yet?"

“No...no I'm not gonna let this one fly. You've been 'out' for two days. Where? Fuck knows! And you just swan in expecting nobody to ask questions?"

“Who are you, my mother?" he chortled, pacing the hall while Michael angrily trailed him. Not getting a straight answer outta him today, he thought, which was typical for his older brother.

“Where's Donnie and Cynthia?" He addressed his query to no-one in particular. Michael opted not to supply an answer. When the empty space of the house refused to entertain him as well, Jacob muttered and began to search it. He came to the living room, Michael's stare affixed to his back, the younger Eriksson following roughly a metre behind.

“Well, did you enjoy your two nights out on the town?"

“I certainly did," he replied, not looking over his shoulder. “Met someone. A girl. Got them under my spell." He played coy with his words, but there was a weird aspect to his talking — a suppressed amusement, like he was enjoying an inside joke.

“What kind of girl?" Michael asked, hoping to unravel a piece of the mystery.

“None of your business bro."

His staunch refusal to elaborate pissed him off. Michael, fuming, kept prying: “it is when you end up dragging other people and their shit into the family, 'cause then they become our problem. Our mess to deal with. Tired of answering the door to outraged parents who mistake me for you." His speech was laced with the bitterness of many bad memories. “I'm assuming this is Jacob 'classic', y'know — 'one-night stand' Jacob. Am I right?"

Jacob paused. Both walking and talking stopped. He glanced behind at his brother.

“Mikey."

“Yeah?"

“Shut the fuck up."

“Fine. Keep your man-whoring to yourself. Are those her clothes?" He inserted a jab at his brother's state of dress, which distracted him from Jacob's...differing stature.

“Eh?" The older brother reviewed his attire. To say he threw together whatever was closest was an understatement. A red collared shirt with a thin pink stripe (colours presumably faded over time) across the bottom half, jeans whose denim had been white-washed to hell and back, and brown shoes that struggled to contain his feet — bulging as its seams looked fit to burst. This was not the dress of someone organised. Looking at Michael, he caught sight of a broad grin growing on the little pissant's face. “No," he replied at long last, “a roommate's."

Michael was unperturbed by the scowl sent his way. “Guy's I hope. Met them too?"

“Nope."

“What happened to the ones you were wearing?"

“That's my business, not yours. I'll keep sayin' that if ya keep asking questions I don't feel like answering."

Throwing up his arms in defeat, Michael sighed. “Y'know, I like when you're drunk sometimes. You're way friendlier. Shame you came home sober..."

He walked away, heading back to the front door to close it. A breeze blew in from the outside. Jacob could be heard wandering towards the kitchen — the strained squeak of his ill-fitting shoes reaching Michael.

He gripped the metal doorknob, and gazed out at the driveway. A blur of blackness sped across his vision, first horizontally, then heading his way. The blur slowed as it closed the distance. A wiry mass of fur emerged from the indistinct shape, tall and intimidating. Axel had decided to show his face. Michael's jaw dropped. The family dog wagged his tail, panting, as it sat in front of him. Resembling an attack dog more than the adorable mutt he helped raise, Michael could only bring himself to comment: “what's happened to you boy? You've...grown."

Axel yowled, acknowledging his statement, then returned to panting in the aftermath of his run. Michael leaned in to pet him.

Jesus, he's huge!

From ear to ear he scratched the large dog's head, producing contented grumbles. During his touch he felt layers of solid muscle, neck-to-trunk, hiding beneath Axel's stern exterior. There was no denying he was bigger — tougher-looking and strangely fearsome. Michael moved back, and simply stared.

Axel, after losing the sensation of friendly scritches, trotted past him and into the house. Michael watched him pass by the foot of the stairs and proceed into the kitchen. There's probably food laid out for him, he guessed. Can't compete with kibble.

But the dogs appearance had sparked something. Michael realised he wasn't paying enough attention to things...to comings and goings...and his family's changes. It's not just happened to mom, his mind cried out, look!

Jacob returned. This time, Michael saw the truth. Taller, beefier, more chiselled in looks — a harder jawline than he'd ever seen on his brother. Shit...he was a foot taller! Jacob's abs, pecs, and limbs looked taut. The guy had a whole new look. Just like Uma, and now Axel...

Michael quickly caught on that he was staring, if only because Jacob snapped him out of it with an annoyed grunt. “The fuck are you doing?"

“Huh?"

“I said, what's up. Why are you staring at me like that?"

He was careful in his response, but still couldn't resist getting another jab in. “You didn't by any chance find a gym that prides itself on liberal use of fast-acting steroids, did you?"

“What kind of dumbass remark is that?"

“I dunno."

Jacob's eyes flashed when he realised Michael had noticed his altered body. Their purple colouration remained subtle, not enough to add to the pile of worries Michael was slowly accumulating. Now he wanted to know what he knew. Had he seen Uma's transformed figure? With a knowing grin, he winked at his brother. Judging by the way Michael averted his eyes — an expression of awkwardness consuming his features — he reckoned he'd more than seen her...

“Whatever you're talking about, I'm certain mom loves it here. Is she home?"

“Yes. Um, she's been acting...odd since yesterday." Michael left out key parts of his story, but he had a sinking feeling Jacob had picked up on something. Why not string him along? What more of a mess could he find himself a part of?

“She must be feeling better than ever. New location. A new lease of life..."

He smiled crookedly.

“I've got a very strange case of deja vu here, Jacob. And you're acting weird. All kinds of evasive. Any chance you might explain?"

“In due time bro. You wouldn't understand it right now."

“You know what I'm gettin' at?"

“Yep," Jacob approached him, the stranger's clothes he wore showing their limits when pitted against his brawny form, “and I'm loving the fact I know more than you do."

Quite the change from usual. Michael bit his lip. “Is mom okay?" he asked, acting dumb.

“She's fine. Better than fine."

“How do you know that? You haven't been here!" Michael told him he feared for their mother's well-being, claiming her behaviour was messed-up, yet offering few (if any) further details. He was ashamed to tell Jacob the truth. That they had sex. How could he utter a word of what transpired last night without destroying the family? The more he spoke, the more Jacob lost interest in what he was saying. Eventually, his brother was directed to the stairs beside them, as their chat abruptly ended with the entrance of another...

Uma climbed down the stairs with the grace of a royal. Her two sons watched her descend, in awe of her beauty. Michael's silence was the result of a heated night of passion, and the emotions that raged within. Jacob's silence was the result of pure admiration — his eyes lain upon her for the first time since changing. And she was perfect. The vision of the goddess who called from afar, as bright and warm as the light she cast into the darkness. Their first sin played over and over in his mind's eye; Jacob's feeble old body thrusting...her slender legs locked behind, ankles pressing into his cheeks...the kindling of the fire that burned inside.

She waved when she saw them. “Morning boys."

Like her eldest son, her body made it difficult to find clothes that fit her. Unlike Jacob, however, she had a whole wardrobe to choose from. Tight pants clung to her luscious legs, squeezing sultry shapes from her generous calves and thighs. A pair of trim socks adorned her feet, in dark colours matching her trousers. From her shoulders a loose top hung, deep-cut, leaving aught to the imagination. Her braless breasts wobbled as she took a step, but her discipline was unrivalled. Not one slip of her nipples was seen. She wore to impress. And tease. And boy, did she ever!

Arriving at the ground floor, she greeted Jacob warmly with a hug. “Good to be home," he whispered loud enough for Michael to hear. She sighed, running a hand across his shoulder. Then, as if sensing his unease, she went to Michael. To his shock, she kissed him on the mouth! In full view of Jacob! Breaking the kiss, she stroked his face. Jacob nudged him with his elbow. Michael heard a chuckle from beside him.

His brother repeated his greeting. “Hey mom."

“Jacob, what took you so long!?" To Michael's dismay, his mother was less keen on berating his brother for his leave of absence than he was.

“Oh, stuff."

She frowned. It was an amused frown, but years of motherly discipline had trained them to fear the sight. “Stuff...? Well you're clearly not being honest here, are you?"

“I found this creature," he said, gesturing to Axel who tracked muddy paws into the hall from the kitchen, “sniffin' around."

“Axel!" Michael exclaimed, “you're getting mud everywhere! C'mon, get back outside before you ruin the house!"

“Calm down sweetie," Uma raised her voice, making it assertive, “Ah, c'mere boy." She summoned Axel to her side. He sat beside her and looked up dutifully. “We can clean your paws later."

Jacob gestured at the dog. “He's good at finding people. He damn near found me instantly."

Uma noticed Michael in the background, looking sullen. “Why don't you run along a find your brother and sister. They were invited to Kianna's house. Should be due to come home." Bring them home, Mikey. For me.

When he heard that name, a rush of memories entered his consciousness. He remembered the argument between Uma and the woman called Kianna — at least, some of it. Other parts he wasn't sure if his mind was playing tricks, misremembering the past by adding dramatic flair. The thunder of his mother's words had to be fabricated. What else could cause it? Then again...images from last night accompanied these flashes. Ashen flame. Wings...

He nodded and left, happy to have a reason to get out of the house.

With Michael gone, Uma and Jacob dropped their unassuming facade. You don't need to hide one's sins from an empty house. Eager to learn what had happened to each other, they moved to the dining room. Axel trudged along, wanting attention. Eventually his growls became too much, so Uma took him aside. She whispered commands to the beast.

“I sense you know what to claim as a reward...you've seen something tasty. Go, take it, and...curse anyone who tries to stop you."

Axel bowed.

Jacob laughed. “You have him even better trained than I remember."

“It's all down to a certain...item I held in my possession until recently."

“So he was the source?"

“Mmm...thanks to him I've felt myself grow stronger." Her eyes rolled back into her head as she grabbed her breast, rustling her top.

Jacob greedily drank in the view. “Me too," he added, “we have a lot to be thankful for."

“I most of all." Uma faced her son, extending her head, lips pursed. Jacob swallowed her kiss, sucking hungrily at her mouth as their tongues mashed together. One hand wandered between her legs, fingers touching the outside of her pants, detecting the outline of her pussy. A moment of rest let her continue: “without you...without your touch, I wouldn't be blessed today."

They ignored Axel's departure, too consumed in their own lust.

“Do you remember when we—?" he asked, but was cut short.

“I do! You were such a good son...so eager to help mommy."

He retreated. “I smell Mikey on you." His surprise turned to glee. “Hah! I didn't think he had it in him."

“Don't bad-mouth your brother like that," she scolded, “he's just as eager to serve me as you are!"

“Is he? I hadn't noticed."

Uma huffed. “He isn't...like us yet. Still so pure! But he will be...he's tasted my divinity...only a matter of time."

They kept their physical attentions to a minimum as the need for conversation took control. A couple more quick kisses and squeezes ended their lust-fuelled embrace.

They sat at the table.

“What were you up to away from home? I hear you were out drinking."

“Not gonna punish me?"

“Jacob, dearest, that's the last thing I have on my mind. Plus, why would I punish you for sinning? It's what we do."

“Hard to argue."

“Mmm-hmm, I bet. So you spent the whole night in a bar?"

“No...not the whole night...eventually I found somewhere to stay. That was what occupied day two."

A place to stay? “Oh?"

“A girl's."

“Jacob! Back to your old ways, and here I thought you'd be mine for eternity."

“It's not like that mom, she meant nothing."

“Suppose you fucked her?"

“I did."

She reached over and took his hand. Her thumb idly brushed his palm. “How did it feel, in your new body?"

Jacob could barely contain his excitement. “Out of this world!"

“Heavenly?"

“I wouldn't use that word," he remarked, stifling a laugh.

“No, nor should I, it wouldn't be appropriate given our...current state. And this girl, what happened next? You think she'd remember a one-night stand."

“I've got it covered. She's under my spell."

“And you think it'll hold?"

“It will — I had to improvise with my powers before, but I spent all day practising with her. She's mine. Entirely."

“Good to hear. We could use a few servants."

He tilted his head. “Mom?"

“You heard right! Servants. I'm not doing any housework and you better not expect your laundry or meals prepared by any of our family. Soon we'll all change, and there'll be plenty of people to take care of boring matters for us!"

He sat back in his chair, arms behind his head. Mulling over her announcement, he felt a surge of pride swell from deep below and blend with his pleasurable thoughts.

“Servants...I like that idea."

* * *

The sizzle of bacon as it turned to a crisp in Kianna's frying pan spread its entrancing scent through the kitchen, and beyond to the rest of her house. Eggs came soon after, cracked and cooked in quick succession. Kianna spent the time necessary to make her meal perfect. It was needed to keep her guests sweet...and on her side for the events to come.

Regret irked her. She already lost control over Uma, and Jacob would gladly follow her trail no matter what — they were inseparable. Bound by the prime sin. All of her books and notes would be useless to her if she failed to achieve control. Mikey's going to change soon, she thought, I know it. Dreams and fate guided her hand. Handsome. Strapping. Is there any reason why Uma won't fall for him next? Oh...his transformation would be delicious. If only she could be there to show him the way. Not Uma, who comprehended nothing of her powers and squandered days of valuable work on admiring herself. Hell, she'll waste months if not years left to her own devices...

Uma: nope. Jacob: nope. Michael: who knows? But she clung to hope.

She still had Donnie and Cynthia to dig her claws into. After spending years of her life following many stupid fads in pursuit of otherworldly power, she'd finally discovered something real, and did not want to lose it!

Speaking of the devil, the pair entered the kitchen. Kianna gave them a surprised 'hi'.

“This is for us?" they asked, referring to the hot food.

“Well, you guys missed out on breakfast — couple of sleepy-heads!"

“That just means we had a good night's sleep," Donnie protested. “Not our fault your alarm is so quiet."

She picked up a nearby spatula and starting lifting the eggs off of her second pan. “I'll get it right next time!" she beamed. “Here, sit down and tuck in." She watched them eat. They're so cute together!

During their stay she learned a lot from them. About their parents and siblings. The small stuff that helped paint pictures of their relationships. She may be related to the Erikssons by marriage, but they were almost strangers to her. Uma was the only person she felt she knew to any degree. And what tales they wove! Michael and Jacob, such pig-headed grown-ups, antagonising one another...not like Donnie and Cynthia, who paired well together with nary an argument. A dash of her own magic, and they'd be joined completely.

They talked more while eating, Kianna joining them at the table, absentmindedly holding her cooking utensils. Donnie was expected to attend the local high school — completing his final year. Cynthia had voiced her thoughts about job-hunting, as the family never managed to secure college for the kids. They all possessed a decent work ethic, despite hindered advancement in life. And Jacob apprenticed in a trade, with Michael strongly considering that path, so it's not like they were without hope.

Their lively meal-side chat was soon interrupted—

DING-DONG!

Heads turned in the direction of the front door, the bell's ring lingering in their ears. Their host rose to check it out.

“Are you expecting visitors, Ms. Kianna?"

“No," she said, confused, “let me go answer that."

* * *

Michael waited patiently at the door to Kianna's home. His directions were good; he knew that much. Hard not to spot the stately colonial residence nestled neatly amid a copse of trees — it would've looked out-of-place in 1818, let alone 2018!

The door drew open to reveal Kianna, cheerful. “Mikey! How nice of you to drop by and visit."

“Hi, uh-Miss-uh, Kianna. My mom mentioned my brother and sister were here. Are they available?"

She beckoned him inside. “Well she's spot on! Of course they're with me. Care to stick around for brunch? Well...suppose it's lunch now given the time!"

“Nah, I'd rather get outta your hair. Just want Donnie and Cynthia."

Kianna crossed her arms, the speckled spatula swishing through the air with her arm's motion. “I'm not having that, bucko! You're staying for lunch, and that's final!"

“Fine." I'll entertain your stupid lunch.

Ushered into the heart of Delmonde House, he met Donnie and Cynthia, busy stuffing their faces. Too busy fighting memories of Kianna and his mother, and thoughts of the supernatural, he did not notice the subtle glazed-over look shared between brother and sister. Faint but pertinent. His occupied mind assumed it was boredom.

I mean, what was there to do in this place?