Succubus Shadows (7 page)

I laughed and stepped away so that others could approach the case. “I think you’re romantic, not sexist.” A troubling thought came to me, recalling how Maddie had admired pearl tiaras and headbands at the bridal stores yesterday. Modern-day diadems. Would Seth like that?

“Call it what you want,” he said, “but I just think our civilization has declined when scrunchies have become the prevalent form of hair ornamentation.”

We wandered around the exhibits after that, commenting on and analyzing them. I tried not to overthink the situation. I didn’t delude myself about whether we could be friends. I didn’t wallow in guilt over carrying a torch. I just tried to enjoy the moment. During none of our time together did I feel Simone. Since Roman’s senses were stronger, I had to assume he hadn’t either. I also suspected he was rolling his eyes over my time with Seth.

Seth and I finally reached the last of the exhibit: Byzantine wedding rings. When I saw them, the warm, comfortable feelings that had wrapped around me suddenly turned to ice. I felt the change in Seth too. Most of the rings were of similar design, with a flat circle lying on top of the ring, the circle surface then engraved with some image. My troubled feelings had nothing to do with weddings or any other associations with Maddie.

Last Christmas, Seth had had a ring made for me in this style. He hadn’t intended it as a wedding or engagement ring. He’d just done it as a gift, knowing the style was part of my past. It was beautiful, and I still had it. It was locked away in a box of treasures I’d kept over the centuries—items too precious to throw out and too painful to look at.

Neither of us said anything, and I wondered what he thought about. Was it just the awkward discomfort from memories of an ex-girlfriend? Was it stirring bittersweet feelings similar to the ones churning in me? When he and Maddie had gotten involved, I’d been convinced he’d moved on. Then, after our brief affair in the spring, I’d reconsidered. There were too many times now that he looked at me strangely, too many times that reminded me of when I was his girlfriend and the times he told me he loved me. But his wedding was still moving forward, with no sign of doubt on his part. I didn’t know what to think.

I’m not sure how long we stood in silence, but Seth broke it. “Well…I guess that’s it for the exhibit, huh?”

I glanced around as though attempting to determine if we’d seen it all. I already knew we had. “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and his whole body radiated nervousness. “Thanks for the research help. I should get back to the store and put this to good use.”

“Good luck.”

His eyes lifted, and I offered a small smile that he returned. “Thanks.”

We parted, and I left the museum, not sure where I was going—only that I had to go someplace where he wasn’t. For an hour or so, I’d played make-believe with him, keeping that familiar depression away and allowing myself a small joy. Now, that darkness descended on me…and uneasily, I recalled how that mystery force always showed up when I was troubled. That was its lure: comfort when I felt desperate and alone.

Roman might be my offense, but I decided then to go for a good defense. I needed distraction. “You aren’t going to like this,” I murmured, assuming Roman was close enough to hear.

Distraction wasn’t the only thing I needed. I needed a good energy fix. I was sleeping with enough men regularly that I had a pretty consistent supply of energy. Still, being at full power, so to speak, would keep my strength up—which hopefully would increase my mental resolve.

Not that sleeping with random men was always cheering. I was in no mood to go hunting for victims in a bar. I needed something slightly easier, something a little less sleazy. Normally those two were mutually exclusive, but I’d come up with an idea while driving home that might accomplish both.

There was a twenty-something guy named Gavin who lived in a condo down the hall from me. He was nice enough and had a serious crush on me. He never said or did anything overtly, but it was obvious. He alternated between nervousness and poorly done jokes whenever I was around. He always seemed unwilling to part when we ran into each other in the garage or lobby or whatever. His gaze also spent more time on my cleavage than my eyes.

The beauty of it all was that he also had a girlfriend. I didn’t know if he’d cheated on her before or just wanted to. That wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was that when I showed up at his door after the museum, his girlfriend wasn’t around.

“Georgina,” he said, taken aback. “How…how’s it going?”

“Not great,” I said, forcing distress into my voice. “I got locked out of my place and have to wait for my friend to show up with a spare set of keys. Can I wait here for her? I’m afraid if I go outside, it’ll rain again.”

It was then that Gavin seemed to notice my drenched state, particularly the now transparent white sundress I’d shape-shifted into without a bra.

His eyes bugged out, and then he glanced quickly behind him before turning back to the wet, clinging fabric encasing my breasts and their hardened nipples. “It…it rained? But it’s so nice out.” That brisk fall sunshine was pouring in through his windows.

“I know,” I said glibly. “I was kind of surprised too. It was this really fast freak thing that came out of nowhere.”

This was apparently so unbelievable that Gavin actually managed to tear himself away from me to once more scrutinize the brilliantly blue sky outside. Finally, deciding not to fight this, he beckoned for me to come in.

“Do you have a T-shirt or anything I can wear?” I asked sweetly. “I’m freezing in this.”

His scrutiny had shifted from my breasts to the very noticeable black thong underneath the dress. I think changing out of the dress was a huge disappointment for him, but he wasn’t so socially inept as to refuse me.

“Sure, come on.”

I followed him to his bedroom where he dug out an oversized Seattle Mariners T-shirt and a pair of green flannel boxers. He handed them over.

“See if these work,” he said, backing out of the room to give me privacy.

“Thanks,” I said, giving him a winning smile.

He managed a nervous one in return just before shutting the door. I crossed my arms and waited a minute, during which an invisible Roman said: “This is ridiculous. You should have just shown up as a pizza delivery girl.”

“Hey, the wet dress technique is tried and true. Works every time.”

Roman sighed.

“Wait in the other room then,” I said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

I opened the door and shouted down the hall, “Hey, Gavin? Can you come help me?”

He popped back in, and I couldn’t help but notice his dark brown hair was a lot neater than it had been earlier. He’d probably dashed off to the bathroom in a quick grooming attempt to impress me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I turned around and pushed my hair over one shoulder, showing where the straps of my dress’s halter top were tied behind my neck. “There’s a knot here I can’t get undone. Can you give it a shot?”

He hesitated for only a moment before moving forward to assist. I’d shape-shifted a pretty good knot, and it took him some time to work through it, during which I backed up against him as close as I could. At last, he managed to undo it, pulling the straps apart and releasing them so that I could grab them. I missed, of course, and as the straps fell, so did most of the dress. It went against the laws of physics, seeing as how clingy that wet fabric had been.

I caught the dress in a weak attempt at modesty, but not before it almost entirely fell off. Nearby, I heard another exasperated sigh from Roman.

I turned to face Gavin, holding the dress against me in a way that completely exposed my chest. His eyes were naturally fixed on it, and I glanced down too, as though trying to figure out what he was looking at.

“Oh, man. I’m wet all over. Do you have a towel? I don’t want to get the shirt wet.”

“Uh…what? Yeah…”

In record speed, he raced to the bathroom and returned with a small hand towel. I decided then not to bother with any more convenient excuses and simply stepped forward, hoping he was smart enough to accept the invitation.

He was. Hesitant at first, he slowly ran the towel over my breasts, lingering when it was obvious they were dry. He moved down to my stomach—which he dried pretty quickly—and then to my hips and thighs. I’d long since let my soggy dress fall to the floor and helpfully pulled off my thong so that he could reach
every
part. He had to kneel to do my inner thighs, and I heard him mutter, “Oh my God.” I wasn’t sure if that was simply because of the situation he was in or because his girlfriend hadn’t gone Brazilian.

“You have great hands,” I purred.

“Th-thanks,” he said inanely. He’d just finished my legs and stood up. I took the towel and tossed it on the bed. Catching hold of his hand, I gently stroked it and brought it between my thighs.

“Really great,” I said in an even lower voice. “Long fingers…”

I guided a couple of those fingers into me, and I swear, he gasped louder than I did. After a little more urging, he no longer needed my assistance and began rapidly thrusting his fingers on his own. I pressed to him, moaning as though it were the most amazing experience of my life. I was wetter on the inside than out, and the only resistance he encountered was in how tight I’d made myself.

Reaching around his arm, I unfastened his pants and pulled them off in one motion. His erection pointed out at me long and hard and ready. It had probably been that way the moment I showed up at the door. Gripping his shirt I pulled him toward the bed.

“The rest,” I gasped, spreading myself in front of him. “Let me see how the rest feels.”

The hand that had been in me left as he laid himself on top of me. He pushed my thighs apart and thrust in with a force that contradicted his earlier shyness. In fact, his face showed no nervousness whatsoever anymore. He was all eagerness and desire, emitting small grunts each time he shoved himself into me.

“Harder,” I told him, giving him big, passionate eyes. “I want it harder.”

He obliged, increasing the speed and force. After about a minute of this, he shifted up so that he was kneeling. Holding my thighs just below my knees, he spread my legs far apart and leaned in. The new position allowed him to get deeper, and I exclaimed my approval, urging him again to do it harder and harder.

Steadily, I felt his life energy begin to flow into me. It was a decent amount, and it felt glorious, spreading through my being and reinvigorating me. With it came his thoughts and feelings, at which point I learned he never had actually cheated on his girlfriend before—but, oh, he’d wanted to plenty of times. She barely crossed his mind at the moment. He was too consumed by me to feel much guilt. The only brief concern he had was that he should have used a condom. That was a regret, but it wasn’t strong enough for him to stop, not when I felt this good.

I let my cries escalate into small screams and felt him grow closer and closer to coming. My head was getting dangerously close to the headboard, but the roughness of it all was really turning him on. He’d never had the opportunity to just go so wild. Harder and harder he went, thrusting himself in all the way each time. The energy increased by leaps and bounds, and just before the big moment came, I decided to drive home the guilt a little. It made
me
feel some guilt in return, but at the end of the day, guilt marked the soul, and that was what Hell employed me for.

“Can she do this?” I panted. He was half a second from coming. “Can your girlfriend take it like this?”

The orgasm exploded—and so did he. He pulled out at the last second, not because of what I’d said but because this was his solution to the condom problem. Withdrawal was a horrible safe sex method, but whatever. His body spasmed and he came on my stomach. It was warm against my flesh, and he watched with a perverse fascination.

Yet, just before it had happened, I’d felt my dagger hit. He’d been so consumed by lust that he’d been able to block his girlfriend out earlier. My comment had pushed her to the fore-front, but there had been no way he could stop what he was doing by that point. I’d felt the spike of guilt, just as the last burst of life energy sparkled through me.

He fell back against the covers, gasping and exhausted. Losing some of your life will do that to you. Whatever thoughts of guilt or satisfaction he felt now were his alone. The towel was still conveniently on the bed, and I used it to clean myself up. I stood up and walked over to the window while he still tried to catch his breath. He’d probably fall asleep in a few minutes.

“Oh, hey,” I said cheerfully. “My friend’s out there with the key.” I picked up the sodden dress and headed for the door. “Thanks for letting me hang out.”

“Y
ou’re right,” said Roman the next morning, ruminating over what had happened with Gavin. “I didn’t like that.”

I was standing in the bathroom, going over my hair with a flat iron. It was a pain in the ass compared to shape-shifting, but I liked the challenge. Plus, I could always fine-tune the frizziness away afterward.

“Not like it’s the first time it’s happened,” I pointed out, my eyes on the mirror rather than where he leaned in the doorway. “You used to never mind.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked dryly.

“Well, being with him distracted me from wallowing in self-pity. Not that it made me feel that great either,” I admitted. “But it kept my…whatever…away. And hey, it couldn’t have been as nasty as what you saw Simone do.”

“True, but now that guy’s just going to come trolling around all the time. He’ll be showing up to borrow cups of sugar in the hopes he can score some more action.”

“I’ll deal with him. I’ve got a little practice in pushing guys away.”

“Don’t I know it.”

I paused to shoot him a glare. “Will you lay off the attitude this morning? You’re starting to sound like you’re jealous or something.”

Roman snorted. “Hardly. Why in God’s name would I be jealous over the woman who got my sister killed and tried to unleash the forces of Heaven and Hell to destroy me?”

Fair point. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure.” He crossed his arms and stared down at the floor. “But maybe the next time you’re looking for distraction, we could rent a movie and microwave some popcorn instead of fucking the neighbors.”

“You have horrible taste in movies,” I mumbled. But that closed the conversation, and Roman wandered off. A few moments later, I heard the TV turn on.

I had to work today, but it was an afternoon shift. I was up and ready to go early because I wanted to visit Erik. I should have felt secure in Jerome’s ability to figure out what was going on, as well as Roman’s protection. But I’d had too much shit happen to me in the past to ever fully trust anyone. Erik had always proven a valuable resource.

Roman went with me, covertly, but it took a while for me to actually get some quality time with Erik. He had customers in the store—which was great for him, but I could hardly discuss immortal affairs with others around. When the people finally thinned out, Erik turned his attention to me, ready with his typical friendly smile. His color looked better, and his movements weren’t as jerky. He was still weak, just not as weak.

“Your cold’s cleared up,” I said.

His smile grew. “Yes, I told you it was nothing. A mere cold isn’t going to kill me off.”

His voice was light, but I couldn’t help a small frown. There had been something in his words—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on—that made it sound like he
did
know what was going to kill him. A chill ran down my spine. I didn’t like to think of those sorts of things.

I sat down at his little table with him but declined tea. “I just wanted to see if you’d learned anything else.” It was a nervous impulse on my part. I knew he would have contacted me if he had discovered something.

“No, but as I said, the information we have is vague enough for it to be any number of things.”

“That’s what Jerome said.”

Erik looked pleased. “I’m glad he knows. I’ve always said that your own people are more likely to know better than me.”

I couldn’t help a small laugh. “Debatable. I might have something to make it a little less vague.” Briefly, I explained my recent encounter and how it had occurred to me that this force only visited when I was troubled and depressed. “It’s like…it’s like it’s preying on my weakness. Trying to lure me in with promises of comfort.”

“Then you must be careful not to give in.”

If Roman had said that, I would have snapped at him for stating the obvious. “It’s easy to say that now, in the cold light of logic, but when it happens…I don’t know. I lose my grip on the world. Reason’s gone. Hell, half the time I don’t even know what’s happening until afterward. It’s like…sleeping. Sleepwalking. Whatever.”

“And it always appears as a type of doorway?”

I pondered this for several seconds. “I don’t know…kind of. I don’t know how to describe it—and I know I keep saying that. And how useless it sounds. I’m not sure if it’s a door, exactly, but it’s definitely trying to pull me into something.”

Erik had made himself tea and sat for almost a minute sipping it, his brow knit in thought. “I’ll think about all of this. In the meantime, I’d just advise…” He hesitated. “Well, let me put it this way. You are a delight, Miss Kincaid, and I always enjoy my time with you. However, you are also—how can I say this—someone frequently given to darker moods.”

“Is that your polite way of saying I’m always down?” I teased.

“No…not exactly. But if this thing is seeking out those in emotionally depressed states, then I’d say you are particularly susceptible. If it’s at all possible, you should try to stay away from those moods.”

I thought about it. One of my best friends was marrying my ex—an ex whom I was starting to fall for all over again. An ex whose soul I had inadvertently damned to Hell and who was now being stalked by another succubus. My own soul had long since been Hell-bound, and I was committed to an eternity of sleeping with men whom I often didn’t like. Oh, yeah. Let’s not forget that my roommate was given to sociopathic tendencies and had me on his hit list.

“That might be easier said than done,” I told Erik.

“I can imagine,” he said ruefully. “But it may be the only way to protect yourself. That and your own willpower—the strength of which I firmly believe in.”

Erik’s faith in me warmed up a piece of my heart, even though the rest of today’s insight hadn’t been all that insightful. I thanked him for his time and headed off to work, grateful Roman offered no “witty” commentary during our drive.

At the bookstore, Seth worked alone in the café. Simone was nowhere in sight, which was one bonus. The fact that it was Maddie’s day off also improved my mood. Maybe staying away from my usual glum state wouldn’t be as hard as I thought.

“Yo, Kincaid.”

Doug found me putting stickers on our rack of clearance books. They mostly consisted of out-of-print coffee-table books, things like
Stone Arches of Tuscany
and
The Complete Book of Bridal Cross-stitch.
I wasn’t entirely sure what that last one was, but maybe it’d make a good wedding present for Seth and Maddie. The price was certainly a bargain. We’d reduced it three times now, and still no one wanted to buy it.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I’ve got news that’s going to rock your world. And make you think I’m even awesomer than you already do.”

“That’s a bold statement.”

He paused, apparently trying to decide if he’d been complimented or insulted. “I just found out that Gabrielle’s a fan of Blue Satin Bra.”

“She never struck me as that type. I figured all of her lingerie would be black.”

Doug gave me a withering look. “No, Kincaid. I don’t mean that she wears one. I mean that she likes the group. Haven’t you heard of them?”

“There’s a group called Blue Satin Bra?” I shook my head. “Sorry. I can’t keep up with every new garage band in Seattle.”

“They aren’t a garage band! They’re the hottest thing to hit the metal scene. They’re going to make it big.”

I tried to hide my skepticism. Doug himself was in a band called Nocturnal Admission, and whenever he spoke about local bands, it seemed like everyone was on the verge of making it big.

“What’s this got to do with Gabrielle again?”

Doug was clearly growing frustrated with me. “She’s a huge fan—and they’ve got a concert tomorrow night. Unfortunately, it’s all sold out. She was pretty bummed about it.”

Despite his annoyance with me, I could sense the smugness within him. “Here it comes….”

Pride lit his features. “I’m friends with the bass player and managed to score some tickets. If your pal Cody approaches her with them…”

I paused in my stickering. “You’re right. You
did
just get awesomer.”

“You’ve got to go too, you know.”

“I—what?” Me trailing along didn’t sound romantic in the least.

Doug shrugged. “He can’t just ask her out for an actual date. Not yet. He’ll spook her.”

“Then what exactly is he supposed to ask her out for?”

“I do the asking. I’ll just be all like, ‘Hey, Gabby, I got some extra tickets to the show. You want to go along with me and my friends?’ Then she’s off guard. She comes along, Cody’s there, magic happens….”

“Wow,” I said. “Looks like you’ve got it all figured out. And I don’t think she likes to be called Gabby.”

“This is a good plan.” He was clearly very pleased with himself. “I’ve been around, Kincaid. When you get mad romantic skills like me, you’ll understand.”

I rolled my eyes. “We can only hope. So how many friends are going along exactly?”

“I scored four tickets. So: you, me, Cody, and Gabrielle.”

“Sounds suspiciously like a double date. You trying your mad romantic skills on me?” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Hell no. Do I look suicidal? You’re already claimed.” For a minute, Seth came to mind, then Doug added: “I’m not getting on the bad side of that guy you’re shacked up with. I mean, I can hold my own in a fight, but he looks like he could seriously fuck someone up.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered. No doubt Roman—lingering nearby invisibly—was loving this. “But we aren’t involved. He’s just my roommate.”

“For now,” said Doug ominously. He began a retreat. “I’ll go invite Gabs. You tell Cody the deal and that you’re going to be his wing-woman.”

I shook my head after Doug left, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. His absurd comments about mad skills and wing-women aside, the whole casual group thing might be a gateway outing to get Gabrielle closer to Cody. I just hoped word of his Goth getup the other day hadn’t gotten around to her. I also wondered what kind of experience I was getting myself into with Blue Satin Bra. Doug’s bizarre industrial alternative music had grown on me over the years, but I had a feeling this concert would be a very different experience.

About an hour later, I was in my office when some unexpected guests popped their heads in. Well, one wasn’t entirely unexpected. I’d found that even when Maddie wasn’t working, there was never any real security. You couldn’t count on her absence, not when her boyfriend and brother were often in the store. I could feel some safety when we didn’t have the same shift, but I’d long accepted that Maddie could really show up at any moment.

No, the real surprise was that Maddie was in my office with Brandy Mortensen, Seth’s niece. He had five of them, and she was the oldest. When Seth and I had dated, I’d grown pretty attached to that brood. My longing for children and the girls’ total adorableness made it easy for me to love them. They’d grown close to me too.

Of course, at fourteen, I suspected Brandy wouldn’t appreciate being called “adorable.” She stood with Maddie, who was holding a garment bag on a hanger. Brandy wore a surprisingly sullen teen expression. She seemed taller to me than when I’d last seen her. Just like with Erik, time was passing quickly for these humans.

“Hey, guys,” I said, setting my paperwork aside. “What’s up?”

“More wedding errands,” said Maddie cheerfully. “We just came by to pick up Seth. We went back to that shop and got a dress for Brandy. She’s a bridesmaid too.”

Maddie lifted the edge of the bag, revealing the same dress Maddie had bought me the other day.

“How embarrassing,” I told Brandy. “We’re going to show up in the same outfit.”

She gave me the ghost of a smile but stayed silent.

“We also went and talked to some florists but didn’t really come up with any ideas on what to get. If I get something purple, will it be too monochromatic? And if I get a different color, will it look weird?”

“Hard questions,” I said solemnly. Ones I didn’t want to answer.

“Maybe you can come back with me and take a look at some of their books?” Maddie was giving me that hopeful, cheery smile that was so good at inspiring guilt in me.

“I don’t know,” I said vaguely. “Depends on my schedule.”

“Well, let me know. Let me go grab Seth—maybe he has some ideas.”

Good luck with that,
I thought. Seth was notoriously awful at offering opinions, and he’d seemed particularly non-committal about this wedding stuff, no pun intended. Maddie left Brandy with me, and I gave her a genuine smile.

“So how’s it been going?” I asked. “Did you have fun shopping?”

Brandy crossed her arms over her chest and tossed her blond hair over one shoulder. She was wearing a formfitting
Rocky Horror Picture Show
T-shirt. Really, I thought. She was one step away from turning into her uncle.

“No,” she said bluntly.

I arched an eyebrow in surprise. Last I’d known, shopping and having people buy you clothes was pretty sweet when you were a teenage girl. Maybe I was out of touch. “Why not?”

“Because,” she said dramatically. “This wedding is a joke.”

I cast an uneasy glance at the doorway. “Better not let them hear you say that.”

Brandy looked unconcerned. She wasn’t exactly scowling, but it was pretty close. “Uncle Seth isn’t supposed to be marrying her.”

“Why not? They’ve been dating for…well, a while.” That was kind of true, guilt-induced engagement or no. “He proposed. She accepted. Easy as that.”

“She’s not the one,” said Brandy stoutly. “He’s supposed to be marrying
you.
”

Yeah, I really wished the door was closed. “Brandy,” I said, pitching my voice as low as I could. “Your uncle and I broke up. That’s how it is. People move on.”

“You two weren’t supposed to. You guys were in
love.
”

“He loves her too.”

“It’s not the same.”

This was not a discussion I’d ever expected to have. I’d known Seth’s nieces still liked me, but I’d hardly thought I’d left this sort of impression. “Do you not like Maddie or something?”

Brandy gave a half-hearted shrug and averted her eyes. “She’s okay. But she’s not you.”