Succubus Shadows. Richelle Mead
and I exchanged looks. Immortals could certainly take personal vacations, but clearly, there was more to this.
“And?” asked Roman. “She’s really here because…?”
“Because I’m sure my superiors want to check up on me after the recent…incident.”
His words were delicate, with a very subtle warning not to elaborate on said incident. It was the one Roman and I had rescued him from—a summoning that had imprisoned Jerome as part of a demonic power play. Letting yourself get summoned was embarrassing for a demon and could call his territorial control into question. Hell sending someone to survey the situation wasn’t that crazy.
“You think she’s spying to see if you can still run things?” asked Roman.
“I’m certain of it. I want you to follow her around and see who she reports back to. I’d do it myself, but it’s better if I don’t appear suspicious. So I need to stay visible.”
“Lovely,” said Roman, voice as dry as his father’s. “There’s nothing I want to do more than trail a succubus around.”
“From what I hear, you’re pretty good at it,” I piped in. It was true. Roman had stalked me invisibly a number of times. Lesser immortals like me couldn’t hide the telltale signature that wreathed all of us, but Roman had inherited that ability from Jerome, making him the perfect spy.
Roman shot me a wry look, then turned back to Jerome. “When do I start?”
“Immediately. Her name is Simone, and she’s staying down at the Four Seasons. Go there and see what she does. Mei will relieve you off and on.” Mei was Jerome’s second-in-command demon.
“The Four Seasons?” I asked. “Is Hell paying for that? I mean, we’re in a recession.”
Jerome sighed. “Hell’s never in a recession. And I didn’t think your droll commentary started until after you’d finished your coffee.”
I showed him my cup. It was empty.
Jerome sighed again and then vanished without warning. He apparently had no doubts that Roman would follow his orders.
Roman and I stood there for several quiet seconds, during which both cats resurfaced. Aubrey rubbed against Roman’s bare leg, and he scratched her head.
“Guess I should shower and get dressed,” he said at last, rising to his feet.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” I said. “And won’t you be invisible anyway?”
He turned his back to me and walked off down the hallway. “I was thinking of dropping off some job applications when Mei gives me a break.”
“Liar,” I said. I don’t think he heard.
It wasn’t until the shower kicked on that I realized I should have asked Jerome about that weird sensation last night. It was so odd; I didn’t even know how to describe it. The more I pondered it, the more I wondered if it had been alcohol-induced. Admittedly, Roman claimed he’d sensed something, but he’d drank as much as me.
And speaking of jobs…my kitchen clock was telling me I needed to head off to mine. One thing about this condo was that the skyline view had come at the cost of work convenience. My old apartment had been in Queen Anne, the same neighborhood that Emerald City Books and Café resided in. I used to be able to walk to work, but that was impossible from West Seattle, meaning I had to allow commuting time.
Unlike Roman, I had no need to physically shower and change—not that I wouldn’t have liked to. I found human routines comforting. A brief burst of succubus shape-shifting cleaned me up, putting me in a work-appropriate peach sundress and arranging my light brown hair into a loose bun. Roman didn’t surface before I had to leave, so I grabbed another cup of coffee and left him a note asking if it would kill him to take out the garbage before he went off to play secret agent.
My headache and the last effects of the hangover were gone by the time I walked into the store. It was abuzz with late afternoon shoppers, people out running Saturday errands and tourists who had wandered over from the Space Needle and Seattle Center down the street. I dropped my purse off in my office and then did a managerial sweep of the store, satisfied that everything was running smoothly—until I noticed we had a line of eight people and only one cashier.
“Why are you alone?” I asked Beth. She was a long-time employee and a good one, answering my question without even looking up from her customer’s order.
“Gabrielle’s on break, and Doug isn’t…feeling well.”
Memories of the vodka competition came back to me. I grimaced, feeling both guilty and smug. “Where is he?”
“Over in erotica.”
I felt my eyebrows rise but said nothing as I turned away and walked across the store. Our small erotica section was bizarrely stuffed in between automotive and animals (amphibians, to be precise). And crammed in between the two shelves of the erotica section was Doug, sitting on the floor with his head resting facedown on his knees. I knelt beside him.
“Hair of the dog time?” I asked.
He lifted his head and brushed black hair out of his face. His expression was miserable. “You cheated. You’re like half my size. How are you not in a coma?”
“Older and wiser,” I said. If only he knew just how old. I took hold of his arm and tugged it. “Come on. Let’s go to the café and get you some water.”
For a moment, he looked like he’d resist, but a valiant effort soon followed. He even managed not to stagger too much as I led him to the store’s second floor, which was half books and half coffee shop.
I grabbed a bottle of water, told the barista I’d pay for it later, and started to drag Doug to a chair. As I scanned around, I nearly came to a halt, causing poor Doug to stumble. Seth was sitting at a table, laptop spread open in front of him. This was his favorite place to write, which had been nice when we dated and now was…awkward. Maddie sat with him, purse in hand and light coat on. I recalled that we started at the same time today. She must have just arrived.
They waved us over, and she gave her brother a chastising look. “Serves you right.”
Doug took a long gulp of water. “Whatever happened to sisterly love?”
“I still haven’t forgiven you for the time you shaved my dachshund.”
“That was like twenty years ago. And that little bastard had it coming.”
I smiled out of habit. Doug and Maddie’s bantering was usually must-see TV for me. Today, Seth held my attention. It had been easier to ignore him last night while in the throes of alcohol, easy to pretend I’d grudgingly accepted him moving on to Maddie. But now, in the cold light of sobriety, I felt that old ache stir within my chest. I swore I could smell the scent of his skin, his sweat mingled with the woodsy apple soap he used. Sunlight from the café’s large windows infused his messy brown hair with copper, and I could perfectly recall what it had been like to stroke the lines of his face, the smooth skin of his upper cheek and stubble on his chin.
Looking up to his eyes, I was surprised to see his attention on me as the siblings continued their playful bickering. I’d almost convinced myself last night that he only thought of me as a friend, but now…now I wasn’t so sure. There was something warm there, something considering. Something I knew shouldn’t be there. I suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that he might be remembering the handful of times we’d had sex. I was thinking of it too. My powers had been shut off when Jerome disappeared, and Seth and I had been able to have “safe”—by which I meant, no succubus side effects—sex.
Except for one. He’d still been dating Maddie at the time, and cheating on her had tainted his soul with sin. That was worse than if I’d sucked his energy away. As of this moment, Seth was a Hell-bound soul. He didn’t realize that, but regret for betraying her was part of what had spurred him to a