About the Book
Some days, a girl just can’t catch a break …
… especially when the girl in question is Georgina Kincaid, a shape-shifting succubus. First there’s her relationship with gorgeous bestselling writer Seth Mortensen, which is unsatisfying on a number of levels. It’s not just that they can’t have sex in case Georgina inadvertently kills him (generally a turn-off for most guys). Lately, even spending time together is a challenge.
Then there are the dreams. Someone, or something, is preying on Georgina at night, draining her energy, and supplying eerie visions of her future. Georgina seeks answers from Dante, a dream interpreter with ties to the underworld, but his flirtatious charm only leaves her more confused. Now Georgina faces a double challenge – rein in her out-of-control love life, and go toe-to-toe with an enemy capable of wreaking serious havoc among mankind. Otherwise, Georgina, and the entire mortal world, may never sleep easy again …
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
About the Author
Also by Richelle Mead
Copyright
SUCCUBUS
DREAMS
For Christina, whom I suspect owns more copies of my books than I do. Your friendship and support mean so much to me.
Acknowledgments
It takes a village to write a book, sometimes even a whole suburb. I’m grateful for all of the friends and family who have helped me along the way. Mega-thanks go to my speed-reading feedback team: David, Jay, and Marcee. I appreciate you guys being there to do quick reads for me and reassure me that it’s all still doing what it’s supposed to. I also appreciate you letting me know when it isn’t doing what it’s supposed to, whether it’s a bad word choice or Georgina being “all emotional and stuff.”
Many thanks are due my agent Jim McCarthy, who is always there with fast email responses, solid advice, and reassurance that I really am good enough and smart enough. Thank you as well to my editor John Scognamiglio, who is also quick with email and very, very generous with deadlines.
Lastly, I owe a big shout-out to the readers who encouraged me on a daily basis via email and my blog. Getting all those messages about how you were excited to read the book made me excited to write it.
Chapter 1
I WISHED THE guy on top of me would hurry up because I was getting bored.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like he was going to finish anytime soon. Brad or Brian or whatever his name was thrust away, eyes squeezed shut with such concentration that you would have thought having sex was on par with brain surgery or lifting steel beams.
“Brett,” I panted. It was time to pull out the big guns.
He opened one eye. “Bryce.”
“Bryce.” I put on my most passionate, orgasmic face. “Please … please … don’t stop.”
His other eye opened. Both went wide.
A minute later, it was all over.
“Sorry,” he gasped, rolling off me. He looked mortified. “I don’t know … didn’t mean …”
“It’s okay, baby.” I felt only a little bad about using the don’t stop trick on him. It didn’t always work, but for some guys, planting that seed completely undid them. “It was amazing.”
And really, that wasn’t entirely a lie. The sex itself had been mediocre, but the rush afterward … the feel of his life and his soul pouring into me … yeah. That was pretty amazing. It was what a succubus like me literally lived for.
He gave me a weary smile. The energy he’d had now flowed in my body. Its loss had exhausted him, burned him out. He’d sleep soon and would probably continue sleeping a great deal over the next few days. His soul had been a good one, and I’d taken a lot of it—as well as his life itself. He’d now live a few years less, thanks to me.
I tried not to think about that as I hurriedly put on my clothes. Instead, I focused on how I’d done what I had to do for my own survival. Plus, my infernal masters required me to seduce and corrupt good souls on a regular basis. Bad men might make me feel less guilty, but they didn’t fulfill Hell’s quota.
Bryce seemed surprised at my abrupt departure but was too worn out to fight it. I promised to call him—having no intention of doing so—and slipped out of the room as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
I’d barely cleared his front door before shape-shifting. I’d come to him as a tall, sable-haired woman but now once again wore my preferred shape, petite with hazel-green eyes and light brown hair that flirted with gold. Like most of my life, my features danced between states, never entirely settling on one.
I put Bryce out of my mind, just like I did with most men I slept with, and drove across town to what was rapidly becoming my second home. It was a tan, stucco condo, set into a community of other condos that tried desperately to be as hip as new construction in Seattle could manage. I parked my Passat out front, fished my key out of my purse, and let myself inside.
The condo was still and quiet, wrapped in darkness. A nearby clock informed me it was three in the morning. Walking toward the bedroom, I shape-shifted again, swapping my clothes for a red nightgown.
I froze in the bedroom’s doorway, surprised to feel my breath catch in my throat. You’d think after all this time, I would have gotten used to him, that he wouldn’t affect me like this. But he did. Every time.
Seth lay sprawled on the bed, one arm tossed over his head. His breathing came deep and fitful, and the sheets lay in a tangle around his long, lean body. Moonlight muted out the color of his hair, but in the sun, its light brown would pick up a russet glow. Seeing him, studying him, I felt my heart swell in my chest. I’d never expected to feel this way about anyone again, not after centuries of feeling so … empty. Bryce had meant nothing to me, but this man before me meant everything.
I slid into bed beside him, and his arms instantly went around me. I think it was instinctual. The connection between us was so deep that even while unconscious, we couldn’t stay away from each other.
I pressed my cheek to Seth’s chest, and his skin warmed mine as I fell asleep. The guilt from Bryce faded, and soon, there was only Seth and my love for him.
I slipped almost immediately into a dream. Except, well, I wasn’t actually in it, at least not in the active sense. I was watching myself, seeing the events unfold as though at a movie. Only, unlike a movie, I could feel every detail. The sights, the sounds … it was almost more vivid than real life.
The other Georgina was in a kitchen, one I didn’t recognize. It was bright and modern, far larger than anything I could imagine a non-cook like me needing. My dream-self stood at the sink, arms elbow-deep in sudsy water that smelled like oranges. She was hand-washing dishes, which surprised my real-self—but was doing a shoddy job, which did not surprise me. On the floor, an actual dishwasher lay in pieces, thus explaining the need for manual labor.
From another room, the sounds of “Sweet Home Alabama” carried to my ears. My dream-self hummed along as she washed, and in that surreal, dream sort of way, I could feel her happiness. She was content, filled with a joy so utterly perfect, I could barely comprehend it. Even with Seth, I’d rarely ever felt so happy—and I was pretty damned happy with him. I couldn’t imagine what could make my dream-self feel this way, particularly while doing something as mundane as washing dishes.
I woke up.
To my surprise, it was full morning, bright and sunny. I’d had no sense of time passing. The dream had seemed to last only a minute, yet the nearby alarm clock claimed six hours had passed. The loss of the happiness my dream-self had experienced made me ache.
Weirder than that, I felt … not right. It took me a moment to peg the problem: I was drained. The life energy I needed to survive, the energy I’d stolen from Bryce, was almost gone. In fact, I had less now than I’d had before going to bed with him. It made no sense. A burst of life like that should have lasted a couple weeks at least, yet I was nearly as wiped out as he’d been. I wasn’t low enough to start losing my shape-shifting ability, but I’d need a new fix within a couple of days.
“What’s wrong?”
Seth’s sleepy voice came from beside me. I rolled over and found him propped on one elbow, watching me with a small, sweet smile.
I didn’t want to explain what had happened. Doing so would mean elaborating on what I’d done with Bryce, and while Seth theoretically knew what I did to survive, ignorance really was bliss.
“Nothing,” I lied. I was a good liar.
He touched my cheek. “I missed you last night.”
“No, you didn’t. You were busy with Cady and O’Neill.”
His smile turned wry, but even as it did, I could see his eyes start to take on the dreamy, inward look he got when he thought about the characters in his novels. I’d made kings and generals beg for my love in my long life, yet some days, even my charms couldn’t compete with the people who lived in Seth’s head.
Fortunately, today wasn’t one of those days, and his attention focused back on me.
“Nah. They don’t look as good in a nightgown. That’s very Anne Sexton, by the way. Like ‘candy store cinnamon hearts.’”
Only Seth would use a bipolar poet as a compliment. I glanced down and ran an absentminded hand over the red silk. “This does look pretty good,” I admitted. “I might look better in this than I do naked.”
He scoffed. “No, Thetis. You do not.”
I smiled, as I always did, when he used the pet name he coined for me. In Greek mythology, Thetis had been Achilles’ mother, a shape-shifting goddess won by a determined mortal. And then, in what was an astonishingly aggressive move for him, Seth flipped me onto my back and began kissing my neck.
“Hey,” I said, putting up a half-hearted struggle. “We don’t have time for this. I have stuff to do. And I want breakfast.”
“Noted,” he mumbled, moving on to my mouth. I stopped my complaining. Seth was a wonderful kisser. He gave the kind of kisses that melted into your mouth and filled you with sweetness. They were like cotton candy.
But there was no real melting to be had, not for us. With a well-practiced sense of timing that you could probably set a watch to, he pulled away from the kiss and sat up, removing his hands as well. Still smiling, he looked down at me and my undignified sprawl.
I smiled back, squelching the small pang of regret that always came at these moments of retreat.
But that was the way it was with us, and honestly, we had a pretty good system going when one considered all the complications in our relationship. My friend Hugh once had joked that all women steal men’s souls if they’re together long enough. In my case, it didn’t take years of bickering. A too-long kiss would suffice. Such was the life of a succubus. I didn’t make the rules, and I had no way to stop the involuntary energy theft that came from intimate physical contact. I could, however, control whether that physical contact happened in the first place, and I made sure it didn’t. I ached for Seth, but I wouldn’t steal his life as I had Bryce’s.
I sat as well, ready to get up, but Seth must have been feeling bold this morning. He wrapped his arms around my waist and shifted me onto his lap, pressing himself against my back so that his lightly stubbled face buried itself in my neck and hair. I felt his body tremble with the intake of a heavy, deep breath. He exhaled it just as slowly, like he sought control of himself, and then strengthened his grip on me.
“Georgina,” he breathed against my skin.
I closed my eyes, and the playfulness was gone. A dark intensity wrapped around us, one that burned with both desire and a fear of what might come.
“Georgina,” he repeated. His voice was low, husky. I felt like melting again. “Do you know why they say succubi visit men in their sleep?”
“Why?” My own voice was small.
“Because I dream about you every night.” In most circumstances, that would have sounded trite, but from him, it was powerful and hungry.
I squeezed my eyes tighter as a swirl of emotions danced within me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to make love to him. I wanted to scream. It was all too much sometimes. Too much emotion. Too much danger. Too much, too much.
Opening my eyes, I shifted so that I could see his face. We held each other’s gazes, both of us wanting more and unable to give or take it. Breaking the look first, I slipped regretfully from his embrace. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”
Seth lived in Seattle’s university district—the U-district to locals—and was within easy walking distance to assorted shops and restaurants that lay adjacent to the University of Washington’s campus. We found breakfast at a small café, and omelets and conversation soon banished the earlier awkwardness. Afterward, we wandered idly up University Way, holding hands. I had errands to run, and he had writing to do, yet we were reluctant to part.
Seth suddenly stopped walking. “Georgina.”
“Hmm?”
His eyebrows rose as he stared off at something across the street. “John Cusack is standing over there.”
I followed his incredulous gaze to where a man very like Mr. Cusack did indeed stand, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against a building. I sighed.
“That’s not John Cusack. That’s Jerome.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. I told you he looked like John Cusack.”
“Keyword: looked. That guy doesn’t look like him. That guy is him.”
“Believe me, he’s not.” Seeing Jerome’s impatient expression, I let go of Seth’s hand. “Be right back.”
I crossed the street, and as the distance closed between my boss and me, Jerome’s aura washed over my body. All immortals have a unique signature, and a demon like Jerome had an especially strong one. He felt like waves and waves of roiling heat—like when you open an oven and don’t stand far enough back.
“Make it fast,” I told him. “You’re ruining my romantic interlude. Like usual.”
Jerome dropped the cigarette and put it out with his black Kenneth Cole oxford. He glanced disdainfully around. “What, here? Come on, Georgie. This isn’t romantic. This place isn’t even a pit stop on the road to romance.”
I put an angry hand on one hip. Whenever Jerome interrupted my personal life, it usually heralded a series of mishaps I’d never wanted to be involved in. Something told me this was no exception. “What do you want?”
“You.”
I blinked. “What?”
“We’ve got a meeting tonight. An all staff meeting.”
“When you say ‘all staff’, do you mean like all staff?”
The last time Seattle’s supervising archdemon had gathered everyone in the area together, it had been to inform us that our local imp wasn’t “meeting expectations.” Jerome had let us all tell the imp good-bye and then banished the poor guy off to the fiery depths of Hell. It was kind of sad, but then my friend Hugh had replaced him, so I’d gotten over it. I hoped this meeting wouldn’t have a similar purpose.
He gave me an annoyed look, one that said I was clearly wasting his time. “That’s the definition of all staff, isn’t it?”
“When is it?”
“Seven. At Peter and Cody’s. Don’t be late. Your presence is essential.”
Shit. I hoped this wasn’t actually my going away party. I’d been on pretty good behavior lately. “What’s this about?”
“Find out when you get there. Don’t be late,” he repeated.
Stepping off the main thoroughfare and into the shadow of a building, the demon vanished.
A feeling of dread spread through me. Demons were never to be trusted, particularly when they looked like quirky movie stars and issued enigmatic invitations.
“Everything okay?” Seth asked me when I rejoined him.
I considered. “In as much as it ever is.”
He wisely chose not to pursue the subject, and he and I eventually separated to take care of our respective tasks. I was dying to know what this meeting could be about but not nearly as much as I wanted to know what had made me lose my energy overnight. And as I ran my errands—groceries, oil change, Macy’s—I also found the strange, brief dream replaying in my head. How could such a short dream have been so vivid? And why couldn’t I stop thinking about it?
The puzzle distracted me so much that seven rolled around without me knowing it. Groaning, I headed off for my friend Peter’s place, speeding the whole way. Great. I was going to be late. Even if this meeting didn’t concern me and my impending unemployment, I might end up getting a taste of Jerome’s wrath after all.
About six feet from the apartment door, I felt the hum of immortal signatures. A lot of them. My friends’ auras, familiar and beloved, sang to me instantly. A few others gave me pause as I tried to remember who they belonged to; the greater Puget Sound area had a host of hellish employees that I almost never interacted with. One signature I didn’t recognize at all. And one … one seemed almost familiar. I couldn’t quite put my finger on who it belonged to, though.
I started to knock, decided an all staff meeting deserved more than jeans and a T-shirt, and shape-shifted my outfit into a brown dress with a low-cut, surplice top. My hair settled into a neat bun. I raised my hand to the door.
An annoyed vampire I barely remembered let me in. She inclined her chin to me by way of greeting and then continued her conversation with another vampire I’d only met once. I think they worked out of Tacoma, which as far as I was concerned might as well be annexed to Hell itself.
My friend Hugh, dark-haired with a large frame, paced around while chatting animatedly on his cell phone. Jerome lounged in an armchair with a martini. His little-seen lieutenant demonesses stood in a corner, keeping to themselves as always. Peter and Cody—my good friends and the vampires who lived here—laughed about something in the kitchen with a few other hellish employees I only distantly knew.
It could have been an ordinary cocktail party, almost a celebration. I hoped that meant no smiting tonight since that would have really put a damper on the atmosphere. No one had noticed my arrival except for Jerome.
“Ten minutes late,” he growled.
“Hey, it’s a fashionable—”
My words were cut off as a tall, Amazonian blonde nearly barreled into me.
“Oh! You must be Georgina! I’ve been dying to meet you.”
I raised my eyes past spandex-clad double-D breasts and up into big blue eyes with impossibly long lashes. A huge set of beauty pageant teeth smiled down at me.
My moments of speechlessness were few, but they did happen. This walking Barbie doll was a succubus. A really new one. So shiny and new, in fact, it was a wonder she didn’t squeak. I recognized her age both from her signature and her appearance. No succubus with any sense would have shape-shifted into that. She was trying too hard, haphazardly piling together an assortment of pseudo male-fantasy body parts. It left her with a Frankensteinian creation that was both jaw-dropping and probably anatomically impossible.
Unaware of my astonishment and disdain, she took my hand and nearly broke it in a mammoth handshake.
“I can’t wait to work with you,” she continued. “I am so ready to make men everywhere suffer.”
I finally found my voice. “Who … who are you?”
“She’s your new best friend,” a voice nearby said. “My, my, look at you. Tawny’s going to have a tough standard to keep up with.”
A man elbowed his way toward us, and whatever curiosity I’d felt in the other succubus’ presence disappeared like ashes in the wind. I forgot she was even there. My stomach twisted into knots as I ID’d the mystery signature. Cold sweat broke out along the back of my neck and seeped into the delicate fabric of the dress.
The guy approaching was about as tall as me—which wasn’t tall—and had a dark, olive-toned complexion. There was more pomade on his head than black hair. His suit was nice—definitely not off the rack. A thin-lipped smile spread over his face at my dumbstruck discomfiture.
“Little Letha, all grown up and out to play with the adults, eh?” He spoke low, voice pitched for my ears alone.
Now, in the grand scheme of things, immortals like me had little to fear in this world. There were, however, three people I feared immensely. One of them was Lilith the Succubus Queen, a being of such formidable power and beauty that I would have sold my soul—again—for one kiss. Someone else who scared me was a nephilim named Roman. He was Jerome’s half-human son and had good reason to want to hunt me down and destroy me some day. The third person who filled me with fear was this man standing before me.
His name was Niphon, and he was an imp, just like my friend Hugh. And, like all imps, Niphon really only had two jobs. One was to run administrative errands for demons. The other, his primary one, was to make contracts with mortals, brokering and buying souls for Hell.
And he was the imp who had bought mine.
Chapter 2
FOR A FEW seconds, I was no longer at the party. My mind’s eye flashed back to where I stood on a cliff outside the town I’d grown up in, barely old enough to be called an adult by today’s standards. And Niphon was there, smiling at me, promising me he had all the answers and could make my problems disappear …
I shook my head, driving off the memories and returning to the party at hand.
His smile grew, an evil smile that promised even more evil things. I could have been facing Eden’s serpent himself.
“I knew you had it in you,” he continued, stepping toward me. His voice stayed soft. “I knew it the minute I saw you. I can’t wait to find out firsthand just how … experienced you’ve become.”
My defenses snapped into place, and I stepped back. “Touch me, and I’ll break your fucking neck.”
“Such ingratitude, considering I made you what you are.”
“Stay away from me.”
He started to move forward again, and my heart leapt to a pace that would have killed most humans. Suddenly, Jerome’s voice fell over us, and I realized the room had become silent. “Leave her alone, Niphon. She said no.”
The imp paused and made a pleading face. “Aw, come on, Jerome. What kind of demon doesn’t share his goods?”
“You aren’t here to fuck my succubus. If you can’t do your job, I can replace you.”
Jerome’s voice held a warning note that even an asshole like Niphon couldn’t ignore. Maybe someone would be consigned to Hell tonight after all. Disappointingly, the imp inclined his head in obeisance and backed off. The look he gave me warned we would have a later conversation.
I walked over to Jerome. “Maybe you should have given me a heads up earlier.”
“And ruin things for you lovebirds? Hardly something a die-hard romantic like me could do. Besides, I told you to come early.”
Hugh snapped his cell phone shut and wandered over to join us. He kissed my cheek. “Hey, sweetie. Big things going on here.”
My already enormous sense of dread grew by leaps and bounds. “Such as?”
“Re-org. Seattle’s lines have been redrawn. We’re getting another succubus. Or, well, we’ve got one.”
My jaw dropped, and I replayed Niphon’s earlier words. “You are so joking.”
“Afraid not. This is Tawny.”
Robo-Blonde pranced over on her stiletto heels and tried to shake my hand again. I kept it out of reach, fearing for my bones. I forced a smile. “Hi, Tawny.” I turned back to Jerome and jerked my head at Niphon. “Why is he here then?”
“I acquired her,” the imp explained. “Acquired” was a nice way of saying he’d bought her soul for Hell, just as he’d purchased mine. “It’s my job to stay and watch her until she’s settled in and taken her first victim.”
“No one ever did that for me,” I recalled. “You sort of threw me to the wolves.” I’d had to be some innkeeper’s sex toy in Constantinople for a few years until I’d learned the succubus ropes.
Niphon shrugged. “HR’s new policy. Just think of all the time it’ll give us to catch up.”
Giving Tawny a sidelong glance, I hoped her adamant desire to destroy men everywhere meant she’d be a quick study. Eyeing her leopard-skin skirt, I had my doubts.
“Well. Fantastic. Now that I’m up to speed, I guess there’s no need to stay—”
Hugh shook his head, suddenly becoming my-friend-the-imp as opposed to the all-business imp. I could tell from his expression that I wouldn’t like what he had to say next. “There’s something else you need to know. For the next year or so, you have to be her … uh, mentor.”
“Mentor,” I repeated flatly.
He nodded, looking sympathetic. Jerome watched our exchange with amusement.
“What, um, does that mean for me exactly?”
Hugh set his briefcase on a coffee table and pulled out what looked like the kind of copied-and-bound manual Kinko’s would run off. He tossed it to me. I caught it and nearly keeled over. The thing had about eight-hundred pages.
Mentor’s Official and Complete Procedural Handbook on Initial Succubus Intake and Probationary Period (Abridged).
“Abridged?” I spun toward Jerome. “Tell me you’re getting back at me for the time I accused you of wearing Old Spice.”
“That one’s still coming,” said the demon. “This one’s for real.”
“I can’t do this, Jerome. I don’t have the time! Do you know how much stuff I’ve got going on? I’m still training the new assistant manager at work—”
He stood up with speed a vampire might have admired. He leaned toward me, the amusement gone from his face.
“Oh gee, Georgie. How inconsiderate of me to take you away from your human boyfriend and your crucial-to-the-world bookstore job and all the other fucking absurdity in your life! Let me just go ahead and tell my superiors that you’ve got more important things to do than answer to the powers who control your immortal soul and could wipe out your existence in the blink of an eye.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. I didn’t really appreciate being verbally bitch-slapped in front of Niphon and Seattle’s entire dream team of evil. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”
“It’s not up for debate any longer.” His words crawled over my skin.
I swallowed. “Yes, Jerome.” Even I knew when to back down.
Silence fell. A smirk played over Niphon’s face. “A human boyfriend. How terribly quaint. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“I think it’s cute,” said Tawny. “I hope you’re making him suffer.”
“Their romance is a great tale of self-exploration,” remarked Hugh, straight-faced.
I shot him a glare. As a sexual workaround, Seth and I found we could do unto ourselves what we couldn’t do to each other. I’d never actually told my friends about this solution, but they’d kind of figured it out.
With the drama complete, the rest of the room lost interest in me. Tawny did not, however, and immediately began talking to me about the joys of ripping out men’s hearts and watching them cry. I left her as quickly as I could, working the room and talking to those I hadn’t seen in a while. I was good at smiling and making people laugh while all the while, my mind spun and processed this new complication. When I finally found Cody, Peter, and Hugh huddled in a corner, I breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell from the looks on their faces that this was the most hilarious thing they’d seen in a while.
Cody, young for a vampire but ancient compared to Tawny, threw an arm around me. His shaggy blond hair was tamed into a short stub of a ponytail. He was perpetually laidback and upbeat, and his “youth” always made the rest of us want to baby him. “Oh, man. This is going to be great. You are so screwed.”
“As if,” I said, squirming away. “You think I’m afraid of her?”
“I am,” said Peter with a shiver. He had thinning brown hair and wore casual yet exquisitely coordinated clothes, all the way down to his argyle socks. He was an old vampire, close to my age, and was Cody’s mentor. I’d never thought much about their mentor-apprentice relationship before. It always seemed pretty effortless, but then, Cody was no Tawny.
I followed Peter’s gaze to where the new succubus animatedly told a story to a stone-faced demoness named Grace. From the dangerous jiggling of Tawny’s breasts, it looked as though the structural integrity of her shirt could only last so long.
“I don’t think you’re afraid,” said Hugh slyly. “I think you’re jealous.”
“Of what exactly? Bad fashion sense? An ergonomically unsound bustline? I have nothing to be jealous of.”
“Whatever. I saw your face when you heard we were getting a new succubus. Looks like someone isn’t going to be the only girl in our little clique anymore.”
“So?”
“So, we’ll have a new little sister to fawn and fret over. You’ll have to share the spotlight.”
“I’m not sharing anything,” I said huffily.
Peter laughed. “So it does bother you. Can’t wait until the fur starts flying.”
“Her fate is in your hands,” said Cody.
“You should make her call you ‘Miss Georgina,’” added Hugh with a mocking southern drawl. “Or at least ‘ma’am.’”
Niphon’s presence and Jerome’s lecture had put me in a grouchy mood. “I’m not doing any mentoring. She’s so gung-ho to take on the world’s male population, she doesn’t even need me.”
The three men exchanged more smirks. Cody made some hissing and meowing sounds, scratching at the air.
“This isn’t funny,” I said.
“Sure it is,” said Cody. “Besides, don’t you want to help others? Where’s your sense of goodness and charity?”
“I think I cashed that in when I, you know, sold my soul to Hell.”
Peter waved his hand. “Details, details. ’Tis the season to put aside petty rivalries and animosity. You’ve got to get into the holiday spirit. You probably haven’t even put up your Christmas tree yet.”
“I’m not getting a tree this year.”
The smile slipped from Peter’s face. “What?”
“Oh, shit. You’ve done it now,” said Hugh. “I already got lectured earlier for not having one.”
“You’re a Scrooge,” Peter told him while still looking at me. “No one expects that kind of festive cheer from you. But Georgina … didn’t you have a Christmas tree last year?”
“Yeah. Somebody burned it down. At my Christmas Eve Martini Party.”
“I was there,” said Peter. “I don’t remember that.”
“You were drunk. You’d already passed out.”
“What kind of sick bastard burns down a Christmas tree?”
Hugh and I exchanged glances. “That’s an excellent question,” I said dryly.
Peter looked startled. “Was it you?” he asked Hugh.
“No,” said the imp. “It was Carter.”
“Your Christmas tree was burned down by an angel?” asked Cody. He hadn’t been with our group last December, so this was all new to him. And Peter too, apparently.
“Yup. The irony isn’t lost on me,” I said. “He had his ashtray too close to where a branch was hanging down.”
“Well, I think he did you a favor,” said Hugh. “You can get a fake one now. They’re easier. No watering. No woodland animals. Besides, you can get them to match your décor. Did you notice Peter’s is ‘pissed-off ocean green’?”
Peter sighed. “It’s ‘jaded sea green.’”
I followed their gazes to Peter’s monstrosity of a Christmas tree. Nine feet of perfectly shaped needles draped in gold tinsel and red glass ornaments. Everything on it coordinated. In fact, I suddenly realized, it matched Peter’s outfit. The tree looked like a display model from a department store. The green in the multicolored bejeweled star on top even seemed to bring out the blue in the ‘jaded sea green.’
“At least you don’t have an angel on top,” I said. “Because that would have been kind of wrong. And possibly a fire hazard.”
“Joke all you want,” the vampire said, “but you have to have a Christmas tree. Oh, yeah—you also have to draw a name for Secret Santas.”
I groaned. “Are we doing that again?”
“Let me go get the cup,” he said, trotting to the other side of the kitchen.
I looked at the other two. “A vampire obsessed with Christmas. That has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“No weirder than an angel burning down a Christmas tree,” pointed out Cody.
Peter returned with a reindeer mug that held a few folded pieces of paper. He held it out to me. “Not many left. Pick.”
I pulled out a slip and opened it. Carter.
“Son of a bitch,” I swore. “I hate Christmas.”
“You do not,” said Peter. “You just have to get a tree. Then you’ll feel better.”
My eyes drifted from the star, down to Tawny and Niphon. “What I have to do is get out of here,” I told them, setting my glass on the counter.
I made my good-byes to them and endured a bit more teasing about my new mentoring job. As I walked to the door, I overheard Jerome saying to Grace, “… but I’ll be out of town for a few days.”
I suddenly realized I needed to ask him something. “Hey, Jerome.”
He turned from the demoness, shooting me an impatient look. In as few words as possible, I recapped how I’d woken up without the energy I’d stolen the previous night. Jerome listened, looking bored.
“What’d you do last night? Bursts of shape-shifting? Rocket science? Heavy lifting?”
I didn’t need him to tell me what sorts of things would burn through my energy. “I didn’t do any of those things. I just slept. I did dream, though.”
“Dreams only suck the life out of humans, not us,” he remarked dryly. “It’s what keeps Hell in business.” Seeing my expression, he sighed. “It’s probably nothing, Georgie. Mental exhaustion’ll do it. You probably spent the whole night unconsciously wrestling with sexual temptation.”
I didn’t appreciate his flippant answer, but there was nothing I could do about it. I left the party, driving home at a reasonable speed limit this time. As soon as I cleared the door, I tossed that ridiculous manual to the floor. It landed with a ground-shaking thump that made my cat Aubrey puff up her tail.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, scratching her black-speckled head in consolation.
Traipsing to the bedroom, I promptly dialed Seth on my cell phone.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. You have to come over here tonight.”
A pause. “Well, I could, but …”
“Oh, come on! You won’t believe what I just went through. We’re getting another succubus.”
He paused again. “I’m not really sure how to respond to that.”
“Respond by getting your ass over here. I need you.”
“Thetis … I’m so close to the end here. Four chapters away. And I got this idea while we were having breakfast …”
I groaned. Cady and O’Neill had defeated me again. Before actually meeting Seth, I’d worshipped him from afar as a literary genius, reading his novels over and over. Now I knew the dark truth about being a bestselling author’s girlfriend.
Hearing my silence, he reluctantly added: “But, I mean, if you really need me …”
“No, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”
“You don’t sound like it’s okay. I know how women work. You say that, then you’ll hold a grudge against me forever. Literally.”
“No, really. It’s fine. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow anyway. Besides, as soon as I get out of this dress, I’m just going to pass out anyway.” No way was I starting that procedural tome.
“You’re wearing a dress?”
“Yup.”
“You weren’t wearing one earlier. What’s it look like?”
I started laughing. “Ooh … are you trying to have phone sex with me?”
“Phone sex? Hardly. We haven’t even had a phone first date.”
“It’s not that hard. You see, I tell you how the dress has a really low neckline with nothing underneath. Then, you tell me how you’ll reach out and peel it off and stroke my—”
“Oh my God. No. We are not doing this.”
Typical Seth. He could write sex scenes that set the page on fire or dialogue clever enough to impress even me. Make him vocalize any of it, and he choked up. He was shy around others, fearful in large groups, and much happier staying an unnoticed listener. I sympathized but sometimes had trouble really comprehending it, considering how often I became the center of attention. I liked to think he’d improved a bit since we got together, but he had a long way to go.
“It just takes practice. Here, I’ll help you. Picture it. I’m getting on my knees and slowly unfastening your pants—”
“Okay, look. If you really want to go through with this, I’d be happy to, you know, go get on my computer and IM it …”
“Oh good grief. Go work on your book.”
I hung up the phone and sat down on my bed. Good lord. My weekend had taken an abrupt U-turn. Like it or not, I supposed it had been only a matter of time before a new succubus joined the ranks here. Seattle had grown significantly over the years, and I could only do so much. But a green succubus? One I had to train up? If I hadn’t known such administrative decisions were out of the demon’s hands, I would have accused Jerome of doing it on purpose. It was on par with his sense of humor. Why couldn’t we have just gotten some antisocial pro who did her job without ever interacting with me?
And Niphon … well, that was the coup de grâce. I didn’t like being reminded of my past, and I didn’t like him. Something told me he had it in for me, though I couldn’t entirely fathom why. He’d bought my soul and recruited my eternal services. What more was there? Wait and see, a warning voice whispered in my head. I shivered. Tawny couldn’t make her first score a moment too soon.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel like passing out after all. I wanted to go out. Not for a victim or anything … just to, well, be out. Grab a drink. Do a little flirting. It might salvage the train wreck I’d just endured.
I headed downtown to the Cellar, a favorite watering hole for local immortals. After Tawny’s coming-out party tonight, I doubted anyone I knew would be there. A little alone time suited me just fine. Yet, as I entered the crowded bar and slipped through the drinking, laughing patrons, I felt a cool sensation tickle my immortal senses. It made me think of crystal and ozone.
Scanning around, I finally found Carter sitting across the room at a round table. Seattle’s most powerful angel—and the one who had burned down my Christmas tree—had sensed me too, and a slight smile curled his lips in greeting. Although he naturally hadn’t been at Hell’s all staff meeting, he did have a tendency to hang out with my little clique. It had weirded me out at first, but I’d since come to view him as a normal fixture in my life, albeit a strange and badly dressed one.
More startling than seeing him out tonight, however, was his assortment of companions. Three angels and a human—none of whom I’d ever met before. All of them watched me, displaying curiosity and—for one of them—scorn at my presence. Whatever. He could scorn all he wanted. It would take more than an angel posse to get to me after everything I’d experienced today. Carter’s company did strike me as odd; I’d never known him to work with others. A grudging curiosity rose up within me, wondering what could have brought them all together—with a human, no less.
Noting my scrutiny, Carter winked and made a small gesture of invitation, much to the astonishment of two of the angels. I nodded back in acknowledgment, first stopping by the bar to get a vodka gimlet.
When I walked over a minute later, I put on my best saucy succubus attitude and pulled up a chair beside Carter.
“Well, well,” I said. “I feel like it’s Rush weekend or something. We’re all entertaining guests, huh?”
“So I hear,” he said. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his chin-length blond hair. Unless I was mistaken, it had been washed for the first time in six months. These guests must be serious. “I also hear one of yours is of a more permanent nature.”
I pulled a face. “I don’t really want to talk about that, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Can we expect a cat fight soon?”
“That joke is so one hour ago. You want to introduce me to the rest of the class?”
This made one of the angels laugh. She had deeply tanned skin and black hair that shone like silk. A merry glitter danced in her eyes as she extended a hand to me.
“Yasmine. And you’re Georgina.”
I nodded back, unable to help a smile. The one she gave me in return filled me with warmth and joy. Maybe some angels weren’t so bad after all. It was a good thing, too, because her companions seemed less thrilled to make my acquaintance.
“I’m Whitney,” said another slowly, a pretty black woman whose hair consisted of myriad tiny braids. She dressed with a fashion sense that met my standards and wore cat-eye glasses that made her look both cute and wise. Her handshake took a moment in coming, but it did come.
I glanced at the last angel expectantly. He had dark brown hair and blue eyes, paired with a long and narrow face. His expression conveyed clear disapproval and a haughty coldness. Now that was behavior I associated with angels. For a moment, I didn’t think he’d speak at all. Then, with great stiffness, he said, “I’m Joel.” No handshake followed.
I turned to the human. He grinned back with as much enthusiasm as Yasmine and flipped his longish dark hair out of his eyes. “Vincent Damiani. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” I cut Carter a sly look. “And all this time, I didn’t think you had any friends.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions, Daughter of Lilith.” He sipped from what looked like whiskey straight up. “They’re here on business.”
“Ooh. Top secret angel business, huh? What’re you going to do? Dance on a pinhead? Lobby for National Cute Puppy Day?”
Joel’s cold look dropped another ten degrees. “As if we would discuss our affairs with a dark seductress of evil.”
Yasmine elbowed him with an eye roll. “She’s joking.”
“That’s what she wants you to think,” he warned ominously. “I for one am not going to let my guard down while she attempts to use her wily and sinister powers of seduction on us.”
Fixing him with a slow, languid smile, I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs so the skirt rode up my thighs. “Baby, if I were using my wily and sinister powers of seduction, you’d be the first to know.”
A dark flush stained his cheeks. He fixed his gaze on Carter. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but you need to get rid of her.”
Carter stayed unfazed. “She’s harmless—unless you’re a drug-pushing god or a nephilim. Or an introverted writer.”
Yasmine flinched, her cheerful countenance becoming sober. “Don’t joke about nephilim.”
“In fact,” Carter obliviously continued, “she might fix that little logistical problem. Georgina, I don’t suppose you’d mind playing hostess, would you? Vincent needs a place to stay while he’s in town.”
I arched an eyebrow in surprise. Misinterpreting my silence, Vincent hastily added, “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I mean, you don’t even know me. I can see how that’d be weird.”
“I don’t know,” I told him, even more curious as to what was transpiring with this odd group. “If angels vouch for you … well, you can’t really get a better recommendation than that. If you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, it’s fine by me.”
“You’re a pearl among succubi,” Carter declared.
Joel nearly choked on his drink. Considering his stick-up-the-ass attitude, I doubted he had anything alcoholic. Probably Kool-Aid or Pepsi. Diet Pepsi, at that.
“Are you out of your mind?” he exclaimed. “She’s a succubus. You can’t subject him to that. Think about his soul.”
“She’s not really into nice guys,” Carter said. “Usually. You won’t have a problem.”
Yasmine offered Vincent a playful look. “He’s not that nice anyway.”
“Carter—” began Joel.
“I told you, she’s fine. Let it go. You have my word. Besides, she won’t ask any questions, and it’ll give him an accessible place to stay while you guys search.”
I jumped on the word “search.” Now we were getting somewhere. “What are you guys looking for?”
Dead silence met me. Whitney crossed her arms. Vincent sipped his drink.
“Okay, I get it.” I finished the gimlet with a gulp. “Need to know basis. Mum’s the word. Hush-hush and all that.”
Yasmine’s easy grin returned. “I love her, Carter. No wonder you keep her around.”
She then started talking about another succubus she’d met in Boston, smoothly changing subjects as deftly as Carter could. Guessing what I was thinking, Carter caught my eye and grinned. I rolled my own eyes in exasperation.
Nonetheless, as the evening progressed, I found myself liking Yasmine immensely. She, Vincent, and Carter carried most of the conversation, and while angels weren’t nearly as fun as the rest of my friends, I found this group entertaining in their own way. They also swore and drank a lot less, but well, nobody’s perfect.
When the bar closed, I took Vincent with me, but not before Joel issued warnings about the sanctity of the human soul. Vincent listened to it with a patient face, nodding along at the key parts.
“Is he always like that?” I asked on the drive home.
Vincent laughed. “He can’t help it. He means well. He’s just worried about me.”
“Are you worried?”
“Nah. You’re pretty cute, but no, I’m not worried. I’m already in love with someone.”
I started to joke that that was no protection against anything, that I’d seduced plenty of guys who thought they were in love. Something in his voice stopped my quip. The way he spoke implied that being in love was indeed protection from me and all the other evils of the world. He spoke like one who was invincible. I suddenly felt sad.
“Good for you,” I said softly.
He cut me a sidelong look. “You’re okay for a succubus.”
“Okay enough to tell me what you and the Super Friends are doing in town?”
A smile flashed back over his face. “No.”
At home, I set him up on the couch, producing piles of blankets to keep him warm. I kept my apartment at a steamy temperature most of the time, but it was December, and the part of me that still remembered huddling around meager fires in days gone by felt one could never have enough blankets.
I soon went to bed, buried under my own stash of covers. This time, I didn’t dream.
Chapter 3
AFTER A GOOD night’s sleep, I went to work the next morning, feeling a bit more optimistic about life. I decided Tawny had probably already scored last night, and Niphon was on his way to the airport. Plus, I’d get to see Seth soon since he had made my place of employment, Emerald City Books & Café, his writing headquarters. Yes, it wouldn’t be such a bad day.
Due to my ex-manager’s complicated pregnancy, I’d recently inherited her position. This had left my old assistant-manager position vacant, and we’d ended up hiring Maddie Sato who just happened to be the sister of Doug Sato—the other assistant manager. It had been a stunning display of favoritism, and Doug had thrown a fit, complaining how we’d just lowered his coolness rating by ten points. As it was, Maddie already lived with him. She’d come to visit after his recent hospitalization and never really left. She had a second job as a freelance writer at a feminist magazine, and working at Emerald City gave her a more stable source of income.
I liked Maddie. She was smart and capable and had a twisted sense of humor that spoke to mine. She worked well with customers and was always very polite in a professional capacity. For example, she could get caught up talking with Seth about ‘writerly’ topics and function beautifully. But, when it came to friendlier and more interpersonal stuff, her social skills were a bit lacking. After a particularly analytical writing discussion, Seth had once made an off-hand comment about her childhood, and she’d frozen up. Seeing him with someone even more socially awkward than he was had been amusing, but mostly I’d felt disappointed at her relapse. I’d made good progress in getting her to come out of her shell and knew how fun she could be. I wanted everyone else to see it too.
Today I found her upstairs in the café, sitting at the table Seth had staked out with his laptop. It apparently wasn’t a writerly day because Doug sat with them. He and Maddie appeared to be in some sort of heated argument. Seth sat between them, looking like he desperately wanted to be somewhere else. Catching my eye, he gave me a pleading look. I purposely slid a chair up beside him, forcing Doug to scoot his own chair over. No one knew Seth and I were dating, and the Sato siblings were so caught up in the discussion they didn’t think anything of the chair placement.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “It had better involve the fate of the store to be detaining the entire management team.” The holidays were nearly upon us, and business was insane lately.
Maddie had the grace to look embarrassed, suddenly remembering her duties. She opened her mouth to speak, but Doug interrupted her.
“My illustrious sister’s an insensitive bitch.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “He has some crazy ideas about Beth.”