"It's amazing," Sarah said distantly.

“Just when you thought Life couldn't get any weirder, it suddenly does. Gender-swapping succubi

Sure. Why not?"

“Look at it this way," Jeremy said to her encouragingly.

“If Althea's sister ever comes to visit, maybe you can convince her to be a man for a while so you can find out what sex with a succubus is like."

“You're not helping."

"Oh, she would go for you in an instant, Sarah," Althea said. "You're just her type.”

She could see her imagination piqued, despite herself. "Really?"

"Oh, yes. You should see her when she's a man." She sighed dreamily.

“Tall, red-haired, little dimple in his chin. Kind of looks like that guy on ‘Outlander. *"

“Sam Heughan?" Sarah squealed. She was addicted to the show. "Oh, God, she must be fucking gorgeous!"

"Do you have any other sisters, Althea?" Josh asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Sarah's dream man.

“Just one left," she said sadly. "Tera." She snickered to herself. "If any of us look like the classic stereotype of the succubus, it's my little sister. Tall, dark-haired, voluptuous. Cute little pair of red horns. I always wanted red horns. But I got white."

“You could always put an illusion on them," Rachel pointed out reasonably.

She made a rude noise.

“But I would know. Enough. Go on," she said, waving her arms at them. She didn't want to talk about sisters she hadn't seen in years. Not when she had a blade to craft. "Scat! Josh and I have work to do here.”

She thought Josh might be worried she might have more on her mind than making a sword when she shooed everyone out of the workshop. But once everyone but he and Sarah was gone, she got right down to business, putting on protective clothing and helping him set up the materials.

“This would be easier if we just had some cast bronze already here,” she fretted. "ALL we would have to do is grind it down and make a hilt."

“I know," he replied, pulling up clay blocks from underneath the worktable. He checked them carefully, finding they were still damp and moist inside their plastic coverings.

“But I don't have any left, and it would take days to have some delivered. Days you say we don't have."

He reached for a tool, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“You can do the hilt," she said.

“But I have to do the blade myself. As much as I can should be by my own hand.”

He nodded, but looked worried. "You know this isn't going to come out of the mold ready to use, right?" he asked.

“There is grinding and sharpening and polishing.”