by Rory Miles
Gaia, Earth’s creator, hates for her precious humans to be Tainted. She made a world where beings were meant to be inherently good, and they were, for a time. After a particularly ambitious mage ripped open the veil between the four worlds, the concept of sin was born and with it, the religions of Earth.
The fae and demons are largely responsible for the corruption of humans, though once they realize they can sin, they don’t need much help getting there. Mother Faerie and my Creator didn’t create beings with the same sort of goodness and morality. While we openly indulge in what humans consider to be sinful, Gaia uses her religions to guide her beings back to goodness. Sahira, creator of the mage world, tried to follow in Gaia’s footsteps, building a world of goodness through her goddess magic and mages. The magic responsible for opening the gates between the worlds was her fuck-up; she should have known better than to make a magic that was sentient.
I flip the pages until I reach the men. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t discriminate. Women fulfill me just as much as men, but I’m not in the mood for the soft curves of a woman. Tonight, I want the hardness of a man.
Why does an old witch have a book full of eligible humans waiting to be ravished? Erma, slippery little thing, is part of an elite league of mages. They walk the line between good and bad, helping my kind find willing victims and protecting unsuspecting fools.
A man with short dark hair and hopeful green eyes snags my attention. I read the details beneath his photo: Emery “Rem” Gordon. 5’11”, 195 lbs.
I glance at his photo. No Taint that I can see, though the traces of Taint from smaller misdeeds would be hard to read from a photo. Something is simmering beneath the surface of this harmless-looking man, that much I can tell.
I smirk and say, “Him.”
Erma perks up and glances at the picture I’m pointing to.
“Oh, now he’s a looker. Pity. Why do you think men like him sign up?” Her glacial gaze searches mine. Erma is a mage, born of light magic and a goddess who despises my Creator. Despite all the animosity between our divine beings, she’s never made me feel filthy for being born a creature of destruction.
It’s why I’ve come back time and time again. I don’t trust her, but she’s the only mage I get along with even in the slightest.
With a shrug, I say, “Not everyone is as pure-hearted as they appear to be.”
She nods, as if the vague explanation confirmed her suspicions.
The question is a good one. One would think being beautiful, in the human sense of the word, would exclude them from this sort of debauchery. The truth is, humans are weak. Rem probably has some irreparable psychological damage. Or a small penis. I hold in my snort, praying to the devil that isn’t true. Whatever his reason, his essence will give me enough fuel to make Lucifer happy.
Chapter Two
Pulling on the silky midnight blue dress, I relish in the feel of the fabric cascading over my soft, supple skin. The material clings to my body in all the right places and the V-neck plunges, but not dangerously so. After all, my natural charms work just as well as my girls do. No need to bare too much skin to get what I want.
I finger brush my now-curled black hair before applying a gloss over my lips. I inspect myself in the mirror. Though I don’t need it, my eye makeup is seductive and smoky. My eyebrows are naturally sculpted to perfection and my skin glows like I’ve just come back from a week-long vacation at the beach. Devious eyes, their color rich like chocolate, stare back at me.
Rem doesn’t stand a chance.
Yes, I’m a bit vain, but damned below, I’m hot and should be allowed to appreciate what the good Creator gave me.
Zipping up the back of my cut-out heels, I admire the black flower design which contrasts nicely with my skin. Heels, like makeup, are unnecessary, but I have a weakness for pretty things. Especially high heels.
After locking the door behind me, I strut over to my ruby red Dodge Viper. I trace the shape of the sleek hood, my fingers feather-light—almost hovering. Wouldn’t want to mess up the beautiful paint, now would we? Misha (my car) roars to life; the motor’s vibration exhilarates me and sinks into my skin.
Rem lives in the North Valley over by Sandia Casino. After driving west on I-40 for a few miles, I merge onto I-25 and head north. Albuquerque blurs as I drive, but the pulse of human energy is a steady hum against my skin. I sigh contentedly.
I’m built to consume all sorts of essence, though nothing compares to human energy. I thank Gaia she made them with such pure intentions and aspirations. It’s what makes them so delectable.
Inside me is a homing device of sorts. When I’m surrounded by humans, I react. The more strongly a human follows Gaia’s basic principles, the purer their essence is and the stronger their soul vibrates with goodness. Being a demon who isn’t built from goodness, the taste is. . . addicting, to say the least. A hum is a mixture of good and bad energy. Albuquerque is ripe with chaos: gangs, violence, drugs. Unfortunate as it may be for the good people of the city, it’s perfect for my new mission—using my powers to remove the evil Taint from Earth. It won’t be long now until demons and fae cause enough damage that purity will become almost nonexistent. I, for one, don’t want to lose that precious taste. My date with Rem is a necessary evil. I’ll take as much as I can without causing permanent damage. Just a sip or two of his essence.
I park in front of a quaint adobe home; the front lawn is xeriscaped and not a single weed is in sight. He takes good care of his property. Hopefully he’s just as mindful when it comes to women. Before I can reach for my door, Rem exits his house and waves.
Two heart-stopping dimples appear when he smiles. His green eyes are radiant; the setting sun catches his eyes, making their color vibrant. I let out a low whistle that only I can hear. Rem is handsome. He turns around to lock his door and I take the opportunity to admire his perky butt. Casually dressed in a nice pair of dark wash jeans and a dark blue polo top, Rem somehow makes the outfit work like he’s a top-level executive.
Is it the eyes or the energy? There’s something different about him, I just can’t tell what it is.
I might not be able to put my finger on it, but I can and I will put my fingers on him. I squeeze my hands, imagining running my fingers over every sculpted muscle he’s hiding underneath those clothes. He approaches the car confidently, bending to place his arms on my opened window. He smiles again. My instincts roar to life and it takes every bit of my control to not jump him in the driveway.
Fucking dimples.
I smile sweetly and lower my sunglasses just so—I’ve seen plenty of human movies where this move works. His grin widens.
“Hello,” I purr. Maybe it’s the allure I’ve just released—or the humorous, possibly semi-psychotic smile I’m wearing—that makes his smile wilt. Perhaps he realizes playing with a succubus might be a bad idea. After a few seconds of watching him waver on the edge of a decision—to run or to stay—his lips kick back up.
“Hello.”
His deep timbre calls to my baser instincts. I lean forward, and he goes still, watching me with giddy anticipation. When I’m just a breath away from him, I pause. A wanting hunger sparks in his eyes, the aroma of his arousal wafts into my car. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
When I open them, my attention is pulled to the dimple on the left and I can’t help myself. I close the gap and kiss his neck. The pulse of his heart greets my lips when they connect with his skin. The thudding breaks through my rash actions and I pull back, pretending I didn’t just lose control.
“Ready?” I ask with a smug smile.
Rem’s eyes are dark, turbulent with emotions. I did that. My touch, if given improperly, can drive a human mad with desire. I hadn’t meant to snare him in my allure so early, but dimples and handsome men are my weakness.
“I sure hope so.” His voice is husky. With a shake of his head, he chuckles and rounds the car. Once he’s securely in the passenger seat, I back out of the driveway, revving my engine
and raising a brow at Rem.
“Dinner before dessert?” I ask, letting my eyes slip down his body before I meet his green gaze. He swallows. My Cheshire grin makes the pulse in his neck jump. Rem is smart enough to know I’m not talking about sweets and a dash of worry flits over his face. I wonder, not for the first time, what it would feel like to realize you are totally incapable of defending yourself.
Our somewhat friendly, somewhat flirty conversation comes to a halt by the time we reach the restaurant.
The waitress, a cute freckle-faced brunette, takes our order. She starts with me, frantically taking notes so she can enter in the selections later at the register. Dinner flies by. Rem is a really nice guy. I’m still confused as to why he wanted this, but I’m not complaining. Most of the clients I see are unimpressive. Rem is by far a diamond in the rough. I wonder if he would get along with Jasper, my vampire best friend.
“Ready?” Rem asks once we finish, his eyes sparking with heat.
“You have no idea,” I purr, linking my arm with his.
When we reach the front door, I stiffen and Rem shoots me a look.
“Everything okay?”
Levia, Princess of Envy and child of the Creator, gives me a devious smirk as she brushes past me, long blond hair flowing down her back. I almost hear her thoughts when she glances back at Rem. She’s jealous, naturally given the origin of her powers, but also tries to draw his attention. Rem looks her over, and turns to me. Levia glowers at his back since he isn’t dumbstruck by her beauty.
I’m relieved the princess hasn’t said anything, but Rem is now glancing between us with furrowed brows.
“Old nemesis?” he asks when I clear my throat and we start walking again.
“Something like that,” I mutter.
Levia being topside is suspicious; she much prefers our world to the human one. Given her place in the hierarchy, her presence on Earth is strange. The royals are always up to no good, and I suspect the Princess of Envy is out to cause trouble. Seeing as it’s not any of my concern what the royals do, I press the key fob and slide into my seat.
When I start to back out, I catch another familiar face heading into the restaurant. Carnivea, Duchess of Obscenity, is another descendant of the Creator, though she was given far less power than that of the princess. The Creator used demon magic and parts of himself to make the first demons, succubi and incubi. Being the very first demon created, I’m one of the strongest. After the Creator made four of my kind, he stopped. I’m not sure why he chose to limit our numbers, but he did.
The next beings he made, the royals, are all slightly less powerful than each one that came before them, creating a power dynamic. Aside from me and my kin, the strongest are Lucifer and the princes or princesses; then come the dukes and duchesses; and finally the earl and countess. The duchess is chaos in living form and I have no doubt she’s meeting with the princess. I continue to reverse, resisting the urge to go eavesdrop on the two royal demons. Nothing good can come from them meeting together.
Deciding I’d rather not know what devious plans they’re making, I shift the car to drive and give Rem a sultry smile. Time to focus on tonight’s purpose.
Feeding.
Chapter Three
I wake with Rem’s hand on my stomach. It’s possessive and sends a shiver of delight down my spine. His stamina surprised me last night; I didn’t even need to use my powers to keep him going. I fed off of his lust and pleasure for forty-five blissful minutes until he shuddered his release. He fell asleep shortly after that. Seeing as I siphoned his energy, I wasn’t surprised. Instead of kicking him out like I normally did to my conquests, I snuggled into his arms. The high from his energy faded until I fell asleep.
When I wake, I attempt to wiggle out from under him, intent on making coffee, but his grip tightens. His arousal presses against me and I turn with little reluctance. Coffee isn’t the only way to get a morning boost.
Once we are done, I put on my robe and leave him lounging in the bed. I didn’t take as much from him as I did last night, but he’ll still need a few minutes to compose himself.
I grind an eclectic French roast I bought from the Whole Foods and make my morning latte. My expensive espresso machine is fully equipped with a steam wand and I love it. I’m an impatient being, so I drink the latte while it’s piping hot. I’m almost done with my first when Rem starts moving around in the bedroom.
“Coffee?” I call out.
He grunts yes. I smile, I guess Rem isn’t a morning person. Or perhaps he is, maybe he just isn’t a succubus-takes-your-energy-first-thing-in-the-morning type of person.
Rem runs a hand over his face when he enters the kitchen. I smile and give him the steaming latte. He stares at it.
“What?” I ask, my smile falling.
“You made me a latte?”
I laugh. “As if there is any other way to drink coffee.”
Okay, so there are lots of different ways. I just prefer lattes. Does that make me a snob? I don’t think so.
He grins ruefully before taking a long drink. His eyes close and he murmurs his appreciation. A sense of pride zings through my body: I know how to make a latte. Clutching my mug, I enjoy how we drink in silence and that it isn’t strange. Before things can get awkward, I tell him I have an appointment to get ready for. His relieved smile smarts. Why is he relieved to leave? He should be begging to stay.
“Can I see you again?” His heated question soothes my worries.
“Sure, I’ll call you,” I say as I walk him to the door. He drops a chaste kiss on my lips before he struts out. There is zero shame in his walk.
“Mm. Rem sounds delicious.”
I frown at Jasper. “He was. Quite. Better than most, though still lacking in some way.”
Jasper’s melancholy sigh makes me smile. “Such is the life of a succubus. Nothing is ever good enough.”
He knows me too well. There is a yawning hole in my demon heart; one that needs mending but I know of no way to fix it. My time with Rem was nice, but it didn’t fix the loneliness I feel within my core-being. Even demons need love.
“It isn’t that,” I protest. “There have been those who have had me spellbound. They’ve just decided to stay away for some reason.”
“Micah and Anakin,” Jasper states in a bored tone. He’s sick of hearing me pine over them. But how could I not? Micah and Anakin were once my closest friends and lovers.
I haven’t seen them in over ten years. The devil only knows where they are. It’s been too long since I’ve taken the pleasures and pain both men provide. I assume their distant relation to Carnivea is what appeals to me. They both possess a unique amount of obscenity. Something that comes in handy in the bedroom. Rem, while a good distraction, could never replace what I lost when they left.
“What’s the job?” I tilt my chin in the direction of the file Jasper holds. His grip tightens just so on the folder before he lays it in front of me.
“This one is bad.”
My brows pull together as I pick up the file. It must be bad if Jasper is bothered. Jasper, my gentle vampire. He is used to a certain amount of gore and seediness. Something that came with being a bloodsucking demon. He’s been making an effort, though, ever since he joined me in my righteous crusade of taking out those who would further Taint and destroy the purity in humans. Right, that might be an extreme overstatement of what I do. I steal souls, for Devil’s sake. How righteous can I be when I do the very thing I’m trying to stop?
The manila file flips open with ease and I stare at the picture. A boy. No, a child named Ethan. Age seven. Taken while at the park and last seen wearing a blue top and brown trousers. I look at the paper behind the picture. The Cohort lists him as an active sale. He is with some low scum traffickers in Las Lunas. They are all human. The extraction should be easy enough. I close the folder and look at Jasper.
“Looks like a simple in and out,” I say.
“Let’s hope so. The Cohort sent me their last cas
e with this group of traffickers. They were too late and the target was mutilated.”
“Well, we better get going then. No need to give them more time than they’ve already had.” I’m standing before I even finish speaking.
“Your car or mine?” Jasper’s question sounds casual but I hear the slight undercurrent of excitement in his voice. Casting a glance back, I see that his fangs have descended. I have a sneaking suspicion he likes the thrill of the chase more than saving innocent lives. But who am I to judge? The Cohort doesn’t care how we take out the trash, just that we do it. Jasper will have his fill soon.
“Yours, I don’t want blood all over my car again. It took me weeks to get the stench out.”
He attempts a smile but it turns into a sneer. Fangs will do that to a demon.
“Fucking humans,” I mutter to myself an hour later. It’s just after lunchtime and I’m already pissed. The Ochos, an idiotic name for an even stupider gang, keep their prizes in a large, well-kept adobe house. Looking at the home, I would have never guessed it held victims of trafficking. I count the sleek cars in the driveway. Five in total, which means there are at least five members of the gang present.
“Guns blazing or holstered?”
I give Jasper a look as if to say do you really need to ask?
“Guns blazing. My kind of woman.” He rubs his hands together in anticipation.
“Wait for my signal.” I step out from behind the hedge we’ve hidden behind and strut toward the front door. I drop all my glamour and sigh with relief when the allure I keep so carefully locked away radiates from my body in a vibrant red glow. The glamour is stifling, but necessary. The human mind is weak; it wouldn’t be a good idea to roll every human I pass. In small doses, like what I gave to Rem before dinner, it was safe and unlikely to cause permanent damage. Ever heard of nymphomaniacs? Yeah, you can blame that on succubi and incubi not controlling themselves.