Succubus Heat. Richelle Mead
They were too impatient.
Nanette wore a short, peach-colored shift dress that showed off long, shapely legs. Her blond hair fell just over her shoulders, smooth and sleek from a flat iron—or, well, from demonic magic. She was beautiful, but it was edged in the cold fierceness demons so often had, like the way a cobra or a katana is beautiful.
I wasn’t afraid to talk to people. Striking up conversation was part of what I did. But I wasn’t entirely sure what to say to her. Demons were prickly about how they interacted with lesser immortals. Some were quite snobby about it. I didn’t know too much about Nanette or how she might react. I knew she was less powerful than Jerome and that the two didn’t have much contact. I’d never heard of her being particularly bitchy or trigger-happy, so I took that as a good sign.
My concerns about what to say were put to rest when she spoke first.
“Boy,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to be you for the world.”
“I—I beg your pardon?”
“This.” She gestured toward Cedric’s closed door with a French manicured hand. “All of this. I presume you’ve been out to see his little Army of the Night?”
“Darkness,” I corrected. “Army of Darkness.”
“Whatever. Those nuisances. Jerome sent you here to ‘help’ because Cedric wanted an infiltrator?”
“Something like that.” I wondered how this news had spread so fast.
Nanette shook her head in mock sympathy. “You’re going to be the one to take the fall if something goes wrong. If things go bad between Jerome and Cedric or if that cult won’t play ball…well, like I said, I wouldn’t want to be you. You’re being played from every angle and don’t even realize it.”
“What’s there to play? I just got here. And I don’t see how things can go wrong,” I said slowly. “I mean, this group just does stupid stunts.” I recalled how even a little seduction had affected Evan. If I’d started stripping on the Ozzy rug, I was certain he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. “They’re no real threat to Cedric, and I don’t think they’re going to be that hard to rein in. And as for him and Jerome…I mean, they patched up their differences already, right?”
“Come now. You’re what, a millennium old? Millennium and a half? So young.” She smiled. “Georgina, demons never settle their differences. Even you should know that. Do you really think things are stable around here? With the way Cedric’s let this cult run wild? And after the way Jerome’s barely been able to keep control in Seattle?”
I thought about Jerome booting me to Canada in less than twenty-four hours. “Jerome seems like he’s got control to me.”
She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, blue eyes gleaming. “Jerome has had three nephilim in his territory in the last six months. Three. Do you know how unheard of that is? I’m guessing you’d never even run into a nephilim your entire life before this. Not in all those years.”
“No,” I admitted.
Nephilim were the children of humans and angels—well, angels who had fallen and were now demons, seeing as having kids was a breach of Heaven’s employment agreement. Considered abominations by both good and evil alike, nephilim were the scourge of the immortal world. They had a lot of power and were pissed off at the way greater immortals treated them. They were unruly, destructive, and given to killing sprees.
Jerome had actually fathered two nephilim, twins who were among the three Nanette was referring to. One of them, Roman, had been my boyfriend for a bit while he secretly wiped out immortals on the side. I’d been instrumental in his undoing—something I was certain he was still pissed off about, particularly since it had resulted in the death of his sister. We hadn’t seen Roman since then. Shortly thereafter, a nephilim named Vincent had come to Seattle, following an angel he loved. Vincent was actually a very sweet nephilim, though I wasn’t sure how kind he was feeling these days since Heaven had kicked out his girlfriend when she killed another angel to save him. Vincent too had disappeared.
“Three nephilim,” repeated Nanette. “And two got away. Sloppy, very sloppy.”
“It wasn’t Jerome’s fault,” I said loyally, a bit unsure how you’d even assign blame in that situation. It had never occurred to me that our unexpected visitors could be seen as a sign of Jerome’s weakness or his inadequacy as archdemon. “The angels could have done something. It’s their territory too.”
“Not in the eyes of our superiors,” she said slyly.
I frowned, losing a bit of my timidity. “With all due respect, what are you doing here?”
Her smile grew. “What do you think? I have two demons in my backyard who are in an arms race. Both are getting attention from demons outside the Northwest.” I didn’t like the sound of that and recalled Cedric affirming as much. “You think I want to be involved in that? You think I want to be played the way everyone’s playing you? My territory’s small, and I’m weaker than both Jerome and Cedric. I don’t want them to decide to annex Portland while they play their cosmic game of Risk. I want them to leave me alone.” Her voice was hard, but I heard a bit of worry in there too, and I realized what was going on.
“You’re here to…” I considered “suck up” or “beg” but thought better of it. “…negotiate with Cedric. For protection. To keep you out of it.”
Nanette looked away, unwilling to acknowledge this in front of a succubus. Just then, the door opened and Cedric stepped out. He glanced around. “Kristin’s still gone? I wish she’d hurry up and bring back those donuts.”
“Tim Hortons?” I guessed.
He gave me an incredulous look. “Of course.” He turned to Nanette. She’d stood up, and he kissed her hand in a polite, antiquated way. “Sorry. Phone call with Tech Support. You know how that is.” To me he said, “We’ll talk later.”
I took it as a bad sign that he said “later” and not “soon.” Settling into my chair, I braced myself for patience. Ten magazines later, Cedric opened the door again. Nanette was nowhere in sight, so I presumed she must have teleported back to Portland.
I took my same chair in Cedric’s office, noting that his screen showed Match.com rather than Wikipedia today. When he saw what I was looking at, he hastily minimized his Web browser.
“So, what have you found out?”
I gave him a report of my morning with Evan. “They’re ridiculous,” I declared as my final assessment.
“I already knew that,” he said. “You think you can put an end to this? Soon?” The impatient sound in his voice made me wonder if he’d expected me to cinch things up already.
I thought about it. “Yeah, pretty sure I can as soon as I meet the others. This guy looked like he might crack on his own. But I won’t see them until Saturday.”
Cedric tipped back in his chair, face thoughtful. “All right. They probably won’t do anything before then anyway. Go to their meeting and work over the rest of them. In the meantime, you might as well head back home.”
I straightened up in my chair. “Really?”
He shrugged. “No point in you sticking around unless you want to sightsee. Just come back Saturday.”
“But…” I hesitated. “Jerome sent me here because he was mad and didn’t want to deal with me. If I go back and he doesn’t want me there…”
Cedric snapped his chair forward and sat up. “He can take it up with me. I’ll tell him I didn’t want you here either.” There was something mischievous in his eyes, like he almost hoped Jerome might pick a fight. Uneasily, I remembered Nanette’s words. You’re being played from every angle and don’t even realize it.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Thanks.”
Cedric