Demons of Desire (7 page)

I’d never heard it put that way. She could actually see it? Jordan might be a pain, but I was thinking she could give me some insights into what made me tick. More than Irix’s “it is what it is” speech.

“What did your research say about demon magic? Succubus magic, specifically?”

She paused again. “Nothing good. Thankfully it’s your elven magic we need.”

I plopped down on the sofa. “Well then, you’re out of luck. My elf side doesn’t seem to do much except keep the monster in check. I’m good with houseplants. That’s about it.”

Jordan picked up a notebook and waved it at me. “We’ve got some serious problems here. The city has grown, and the very things that kept our fragile bio–system sustainable have been damaged. Levees keep the flooding at bay — good for the residents, bad for the replenishment of nutrients in our soil, so the plant life is changing. That means our fish and wildlife industries are struggling, and so are the people that rely on them for their livelihood. Worse, logging and draining of the bayous along with rising sea levels mean we’re increasingly vulnerable to hurricanes. Isn’t it ironic that the two activities are countering each other? Less wetlands means hurricanes hit us with a force the levees can’t hold against.”

I shrugged. It was just another example of Mother Nature swatting at flies. Once pesky humans bothered her too much, she’d wash them away with hurricanes, earthquakes, or volcanoes. Such arrogance to think they could stand against the forces of a planet. And yes, it was the ultimate irony for me to be referring to “humans” when less than a year ago I’d counted myself as one.

“So what is it you think
I
can do? Protect the city from hurricanes? Rebuild the wetland forests? Fertilize a million acres of ground? No problem. I’ll just cure cancer and solve world hunger while I’m at it.”

The look on her face made me feel like a complete jerk. Crushed. Hurt. Her shoulders slumped, and she slid the notebook back into the backpack like a robot.

“Jordan, I’m sorry. It’s no excuse, but I’ve been a bit edgy lately. I honestly think you’re overestimating my abilities, but tell me what you want, and I’ll let you know if it’s something I can help with.”

She looked up, and I saw the tears in her eyes. Great. Now I really did feel like a world–class asshole. What had happened to me? I’d always been the peacemaker, the one who got along with everyone, but lately I was so irritable and snarky. I’m surprised I had any friends left.

“I don’t know. Maybe accelerate the growth in the bald cypress trees that are part of the forested swamps? Soil regeneration would be great too, if you could do that. Do you have any skills with water? Between the weirs and sea level rise, the brackish wetlands are becoming saline.”

I sighed. Might as well be honest. “I think for those sorts of things, you’d need a full elf. Probably a group of them. I might be able to help a few trees along, but what you’re proposing is too large scale for my abilities.” Her face fell, and my heart went out to her. “You have to understand, I’m only twenty years old. That’s young in human years, but in demon and elf years that’s practically an infant. If I were back in Hel, I’d still be in a nursery. I’ve been told the only reason I have the abilities I have now is that being in the human world has accelerated them.”

“I understand.” Her voice was soft, like I’d been her last hope. “It’s just … I’ve never seen anyone like you before. Lots of local covens have tried, but we can’t channel the kind of energy we need to make any kind of significant impact.”

“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I talk to the head of your coven? I can go out with you to look at the affected areas and see what I can do. Hey, one healthy tree is better than none, right? Maybe we can figure something out.”

She smiled, and I felt bad for being so annoyed by her last night. “I’d appreciate it. I know you’re only here for a week, and it’s your vacation and all, but maybe you could manage to do a little bit while you’re here.”

An idea was forming in my mind. “I’ll try my best. I’ve got a favor to ask of you, too. Darci’s going on a date tonight, and I’m wondering if you’d go out with me. To a club or something. I could really use a local so I don’t wind up in the wrong neighborhood or something.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Me? I mean, I guess. I’m not usually anyone’s first choice when it comes to turning it up, but I know a few places. What kind of club do you want to go to?”

She knew what I was, so I figured it was time to be completely honest. “One where I can pick up a guy in a relatively short time for quickie sex.”

Jordan’s jaw came close to hitting the floor. “You could just walk down the street and do that, from what I’ve seen.”

I squirmed. “There’s a problem. I’m half succubus, so anyone I have sex with is kind of attached to me for the rest of their life. I won’t want anything to do with them afterward, but I’ll overshadow pretty much every sexual experience they’ll have from that point onward. Their obsession transfers energy to me.”

“Wow. That’s… .”

“Terrible. I know. I’ve been putting it off, denying myself for as long as possible, but I need to find someone by midnight tonight. I just want it to be someone I won’t feel too guilty about. Some kind of player–type that’s used a lot of girls. Someone who will probably spend their life in a string of one night stands anyway.”

Jordan nodded knowingly. “Like the hot guy last night that you were practically inhaling? You should have done him. He certainly fit the profile.”

I winced. Yes, he did.

“I can’t have sex with him. He’s an incubus — a full–on sex demon. He’s kind of my mentor, and if I don’t close the deal with someone by midnight, then he’ll make me have sex with him.”

The notebook bent in Jordan’s fist. Her eyes flashed. “He’d
rape
you? Not in my city, he won’t. I’ve got spells. I’ve got amulets. If he thinks he’s going to force you, then he’s got another thing coming.”

“Trust me, it would
not
be rape.” I told her, in what I hoped was a soothing voice. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want that guy. Sex with him would be the highlight of my life — and I’ll most likely live tens of thousands of years.”

Jordan frowned. “Then why not do it? I’d give a limb to have one night with someone that looked like that. Is it because he won’t provide you with the energy you need, or something?”

“No, he said he’d transfer some of his energy to me. It’s just… .” I hesitated, my face heating up. “It would be like a charity fuck. He doesn’t like that I’ve been denying myself, in essence starving myself, so he’d have sex with me to ensure I had the energy I needed. Like a feeding tube for someone who can’t eat. But I don’t … I can’t… .”

Realization dawned on her face, and she nodded. “Sex with him would mean more to you than that, and you need him to feel the same way.”

It all came out in a rush. “I’m scared that
I’ll
be the one who spends my life measuring every partner against him, pining for him. I’m scared that in the morning, I’ll mean nothing to him, that he’ll be completely uninterested in ever repeating the experience. Right now, he wants me. If I give in, he might never want me again, and what little we have now will be gone.”

“You’re in love with him,” she added softly.

“No! Not at all! Not love, but a friends–with–benefits thing. Although we haven’t gotten to the benefits part, and I really don’t want us to.”

It sounded lame. Jordan tilted her head, and her eyes were warm as she patted my hand. “I know the perfect place. There’s a Goth club I go to. The guys there are really nice, but these ‘others’ come in sometimes. They basically do the pick–up–and–dump routine. You know, take someone outside for twenty minutes, then they’re back for another? You wouldn’t have to worry your conscience one bit.”

Sounded perfect to me. “They’re guys, right? Because pretty much any guy will work for me, but for some reason I’m only attracted to one in a hundred girls.”

“Usually it’s a mix, but there are always at least two or three guys. Don’t worry, you’ll have your pick. And if you want more than one tonight, now’s your chance.”

Perfect indeed. I’d prove to Irix that I could take care of myself. Hopefully that would be enough to convince him his job was done, and that he could leave me in peace and return to Hel — the prospect of which left me seriously depressed.

6

H
ere’s the tree. It had phytophthora ramorum and was due to be removed today. It’s a severe blight and always fatal, but she cured it.”

I stood by the side like a second grader awaiting judgment of my science fair project while Jordan and an older woman, who had been introduced to me as Bev, examined the tree.

The High Priestess of the Bon Nuit coven had short silver hair, and a neat figure in olive pants and a gauzy top. She looked like she should be volunteering at the historical society or trimming heirloom roses in her prize–winning garden, not running an eighty–person Wiccan coven in New Orleans.

“Are you sure, Jordan?” Bev reached out a hand to touch the bark, frowning first at the tree, and then at me. I tugged at my shorts, suddenly wishing I’d worn a longer pair today. Her expression pegged me as a stereotypical college coed — all looks and no brains in clothing just a few inches from indecent.

“Totally.” Jordan looked at me pleadingly. “Amber, can you show her? Heal another tree, maybe?”

This meeting wasn’t going as planned. I was supposed to have a lovely sit–down with Jordan and Bev to discuss their needs and my significant limitations. Instead, the whole meeting veered into doubt over my abilities. Now I needed to prove myself, perform like a circus dog.

“I’m low on energy, remember?” I’d passed out healing this tree, and although I felt better after all the smoky seduction of the club, I was still far from fully charged.

“Oh … that’s right.” Jordan looked away in embarrassment, obviously thinking about our mission this evening.

Bev did not look away. She stared intently, like she was trying to bore right through my skull and into my thoughts. “If you don’t have enough energy to heal another tree, what makes you think you can do a magical working on an entire section of bayou? Where do you plan on getting the energy for that?”

That was the question on my mind too, along with the doubts that I could even do what they were asking of me.

“I’m planning on having more energy after tonight. It’s rather personal how I do that, so I’d rather not say.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t work with anyone practicing black magic of any kind. If you’re killing something for your energy, then you can just get right back on the plane to Maryland.”

This woman was seriously looking at me, all blond and blue–eyed in short–shorts and a skin–tight lilac crop top, and thinking I was merrily sacrificing goats or small children for power? It was a ludicrous idea.

“You okay with fucking?”

She recoiled in shock from the crude word, and I had to bite back a smile. Deliberately offending her probably wasn’t the wisest choice, but I couldn’t help it. I
was
half demon, after all.

“Yes. Sex magic is an acceptable source of energy for spell workings.”

“Oh good. Now, let me see if I can find something to do that will prove to you that I’m not a fraud, but not put me in a coma.”

I looked around. Reviving some trampled grass probably wouldn’t suffice. I could increase the size of the bougainvillea blooms, but that might be discounted as an illusion. Blooms!

“Watch that azalea over there.” I pointed to the bushy plant with thick dark green leaves. The two turned toward it.

Walking over, I lay a finger against a leaf, feeling the pulse of the plant, vital and healthy.
Sorry, sweetie
. What I was about to do wouldn’t hurt the azalea, but the poor thing would be terribly confused. With a steady stream of energy, I adjusted sugar levels, slowed sunlight absorption, and triggered changes in the plant that mimicked six months of seasons in five seconds. Buds appeared and burst into bloom, covering the azalea with a blanket of white. They wouldn’t last long. Once the plant realized it was far too hot for this sort of thing, the flowers would drop off en masse.

“Wow … just wow!” Jordan gushed, coming over to inspect the flowers.

“You’d make a good florist,” Bev countered.

Some people were just really hard to impress. Luckily, Jordan wasn’t one of them.

“You didn’t just force a bloom, you tricked a cold–weather plant that flowers here in January into flowering in August! I can’t even begin to imagine the subtle environmental and chemical changes you had to make to do that!”

It was good to have a fan. Of course, now I felt like I was going to puke. Or take a sudden, unexpected nap.

Bev walked over and stared down at the azalea with her arms folded tightly across her chest. “Okay. I’ll arrange for a ritual tomorrow night. What do you want to target, Jordan?”

“Either the bayous directly south of the city, or the marshes farther toward the gulf. I’ll take Amber out there, and we’ll decide whether to concentrate on the tree growth or indigenous plant volume.”

The high priestess nodded. “Let me know and I’ll choose an appropriate spot based on energy flow. Hopefully, combined, we’ll be able to have some impact.” She turned to leave, calling back over her shoulder. “Make sure she knows ritual etiquette. I don’t want everyone going to all this trouble only to have her going around the circle widdershins or knocking over one of the four–quarter candles.”

Bitch. It’s not like I’d never been to a sabbat.

Jordan sighed, watching the head of her coven walk away. “Sometimes I wish Kristin had stepped up to the plate. Bev can be really inflexible.”

Ya think so?

“Who’s Kristin?” Wiccan covens generally had a male and female lead, with one assuming primary responsibility. Although, if they were Dianic and strictly female, this Kristin might be the second in charge.

“A member. When she moved down from Minnesota, we thought she might make a bid for high priestess, but she insists she doesn’t want to lead. Don’t get me wrong, Bev does a great job and has really grown the group, but she’s polarizing, while Kristin is more about compromise.”