by Rory Miles
My allure hits the humans in the house before I reach the front door. When I see the curtains rustle with my approach, I smile and add a little extra sway to my hips. The brown door opens, revealing two men wrestling to get out first. I stop short of the entrance.
“Hello.” Silky and smooth, my voice comes out like rich chocolate. Shudders run through the men and I fight a smile when I see their pupils dilate. The man with a Zia tattoo on his neck sways on his feet.
Jasper appears at my side. The men don’t notice.
“Show me your secrets?” I ask, though they take it as a command. Right now, they’d do anything for me.
The sickly-sweet smell of vinegar tickles my nostrils. Heroin. They’re either doing it themselves or giving it to their captives.
“Twenty total,” Jasper whispers from behind me. The men are too enthralled to take notice of the scary vampire, whose fangs have fully come out to play.
The two men I’ve rolled lead us into the great room. The furniture is threadbare and sparse. This doesn’t surprise me. These types of people spend all their money on cars, shoes, and drugs. Six people are strewn about the room. Two women on a couch stare vacantly at the ceiling, lost in the drugs they took earlier, no doubt. Four men, all heavily tatted, sit on the other large couch.
“Damn, Shera, tone it down.” Jasper pulls at his collar. His eyes have turned black with bloodlust and he keeps eyeing me like I’m the snack.
Succubi and vampires are similar in nature, both creatures requiring essence, be it energy or blood, to survive, but our familial lines are different. My vampire is high born from Duke Carrea. No one, aside from Lucifer and possibly Prince Beelzebub, can rival me at full strength. Still, Jasper is a strong vampire. Had he been properly feeding, he’d be better able to resist my pull. Though, he’d still succumb to my power if I focused it on him.
“Keep it together,” I say to him before shooting a smile at the men who are now staring at me.
“The secrets?” I prompt the man with the Zia tattoo, running a hand down his arm for the hell of it. I take a long pull of the energy pulsing in the room, letting it warm my body. The rush is heady and I fight back a moan when their thoughts slam into me.
Take her on the couch.
So hard, almost coming.
Pretty lips wrapped around my dick.
There are so many of them and it hits me hard enough that I need a minute to compose myself. Save the boy first, devour souls later.
The guy leads us down a dark hallway. He struggles to unlock the deadbolts on the door. All five of them. I draw my eyebrows down. Five locks seems excessive for a little boy. The human stills when the last click sounds, as though he is afraid to enter the room. I push him aside and twist the knob, steeling myself for whatever lies inside the room.
Jasper’s growl fills the air behind me and I cover my mouth. Twelve children are chained together, each with an inhuman metal band clamped around their neck. The thick chain runs from where it’s bolted to the wall, through the front of one lock and each subsequent one. The last of the chain is bolted to the wall on the other side of the room.
I sweep my gaze over the children. The first child is the worst of the bunch and has probably been here the longest. From there, the children are in various stages of malnourishment and filth. I can tell which ones have been here a while: they stare at me with unseeing eyes. No longer willing to fight whatever comes next. I may be a demon, but I still have a heart. Said organ breaks for these poor children. The oldest looks about twelve but could be older, it’s hard to tell with the state he is in. The boy from the picture is the last in the sad lineup of broken humans.
The snap of bones pulls me out of my trance. Our guide lies dead at my feet. Jasper’s breathing is shallow and his eyes are midnight black. He’s pissed and on the verge of losing control. I grimace.
“The allure’s broken now. We better hurry,” I say, gently pushing him toward the other side of the house.
He turns and flits with purpose to the living room. By the time I reach the room, the remaining men are scrambling around and screaming. Jasper’s got them cornered, so I turn to the women. They’ve woken from their drug-induced stupor enough to cast worried glances at me.
I push my allure at them and wait for it to take hold. It takes longer because of the death filling the room. It’s hard to snare humans when they’re petrified. Running my hands over their arms, I bring their focus back to me and push more allure at them. They lean toward me, seeking more of my touch.
“Did you help them take the children?” I ask while I slide my hands idly up and down their arms.
“Yes,” the one with red hair whispers. She smiles like she’s proud of herself. My lips curl with disgust. I pull out the dagger I have hidden in my boot and slit their throats in one swipe. Blood pours down their necks and splashes onto my shirt.
Jasper’s noisy as he drinks his fill, slurping like a starved demon. Which, he technically is with his abstinence. He’s killed all but the one he is currently feeding from. Tapping my foot while I wait for him to finish, I stifle the urge to rush him. He’s prolonging the process, probably making sure the guy feels every moment of his death with excruciating pain. He could’ve drained him in thirty seconds.
“Finally,” I say when he throws the human down. He grabs the shirt off of one of the men and cleans himself up. Drinking blood is messy business. I’m not sure why movies and books always make it seem romantic and clean. He ripped the guy’s vein, for devil’s sake. Even his maw can’t contain the entirety of blood that follows that type of damage.
He glares at me with black eyes and I put my hand on my hip.
“Don’t start that shit. We’re done. Put it away.” The it I refer to is his bloodlust. Jasper saves himself for missions like this, sometimes he goes weeks without feeding. When he finally feeds, it’s hard for him to stop.
He prowls toward me and I growl a warning. I can be every bit the demon he can, allure aside. My nails descend into pointed claws and I ready myself. He won’t harm the children; this vampire only feeds off the bad guys. Unfortunately, I’m one of the bad guys.
I swipe my hand in front of myself. As predicted, Jasper uses his vampire speed to charge me and I gouge his face. He cries out in anger. I pivot and kick him in the stomach with my full strength. He flies back and crashes into the wall. Drywall showers the floor when he falls. He stands and shakes the dust out of his hair. When our eyes meet, I sigh in relief. The black is gone.
“Sorry,” he mutters but I wave it off. We’ve done this song and dance long enough that I know how to shock him out of his hunger. Knocking him on his ass usually does the trick.
“Call it in.” I point to the door. He needs to get out of this house, the scent of blood is heavy in the air and I don’t trust him being able to control himself. Once he closes the door, I head back to the bedroom with the children. After pulling the man Jasper killed out of the way, I step to the threshold. They squeak in fear when they see me. I bristle, but it’s warranted. We did just kill the adults.
“Someone will be here soon to help you,” I say in soothing tones. I don’t release them from their chains because they don’t need to see the death littering the house. Instead, I sit down and lean my back against the door and send small amounts of allure at them, not enough to cause unhealthy thoughts but enough to soothe away the edges of their fear.
Fifteen minutes pass before I hear the familiar footfalls of Lenard. When he comes to stand next to where I sit, I glance up at him. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes, his black and gray eyebrows are drawn down hard with disapproval. I sigh and stand up.
“You weren’t supposed to use your juice on the kids.”
I bite my cheek at his reprimand and glance at the kids. They aren’t trembling with fear.
“I did what I thought was best. You’re welcome.” I growl the last part at him. His gaze sweeps the room before storm-gray eyes settle on me.
“I’ve got it f
rom here. Take Jasper home.” His commanding tone leaves no room for argument. I dip my head in submission and leave him with the kids. Len can be a dick sometimes, but this is his gig. He created the Cohort to fight evil beings like myself and the corrupted humans. He let me on the team with the condition of not causing problems or overstepping, so I couldn’t argue with the boss. Well, at least not with this one.
Chapter Four
After sending a written report to Cohort headquarters and dropping Jasper off at his house, I head home to shower. Water washes away the blood, tinging the liquid pink as it swirls down the drain. I scrub away the rest of the gore and tilt my head, letting the scalding streams beat against my back and neck. Wrapped up in a fluffy black robe, I head toward the kitchen and my very limited stash of fae wine.
Just as I’m pulling out one of my fancy glasses (the ones I use when I’m feeling especially tired), someone knocks. I check my phone but don’t see a missed call from Jasper, who I assume is the one knocking.
I retie my robe before opening my front door.
“Hello,” Beelzebub, Prince of Pride, says like we’re old chums. Beelzebub is tall and dark in every way. His skin is ebony, hair black, and eyes dark brown. When they slowly trail down my body, I’m suddenly very aware of how ridiculous I look in my fluffy robe compared to his red button-up shirt and black slacks.
Scrunching my nose, I say, “Hi?”
His gaze snaps up to mine after lingering a bit too long on the spot where the short robe ends and reveals a good deal of thigh. Because I’m absolutely shameless, I cock my hip and let the fabric part even further. A smug smile finds its way onto my face when his eyes stray once again.
“I presume there’s a reason for your visit?”
He clears his throat, glancing away from me as he speaks. “I was hoping you’d join me for dinner.”
I quirk a brow. “Why?”
“I’m lonely.”
With a scoff, I toss my half-dry hair over my shoulder and step closer to him. “Lie.”
His jaw ticks, and I know I’m irritating him but I can’t seem to help myself.
“The heir wants to take me to dinner. Why?”
“Does there have to be a reason other than me wanting to spend time with you?”
With a nod, I say, “Yes. There is always a reason when it comes to the royals wanting to talk to me.” I flit my gaze down his impressive body. The business casual look is hot on the prince, the shirt just snug enough to hint at the muscles lying underneath. He certainly takes pride in the way he looks. “Unless you’re seeking a different sort of company?” I ask, my voice hopeful.
“Perhaps another time, little succubus.” His voice has deepened and his eyes rove over my body once again, heat flashing in them despite my fluffy robe which isn’t sexy at all.
Placing a hand against his muscled chest, I lean into his space and drop my glamour. “There’s no time like the present, Beelzebub. I can feel your lust straining for me.” I purposefully point my gaze toward his crotch.
He removes my hand and steps away from me. “Another time, Shera.” His words are full of promise and I smile despite the rejection.
“Where would we go?”
“Does that mean you’re coming?”
“Not yet.” He laughs, so I frown and say, “I haven’t decided; it depends on where you want to go.”
“I made reservations at Fusion.”
Damn. He has me now. Fusion is the hot new upscale Thai restaurant in Nob Hill. I’ve been meaning to go, but haven’t had time.
“I need thirty-seven minutes.” He comes inside when I hold the door open for him, smiling at me like he’s indulging a child.
“Why not make it thirty-eight and a half?”
I tilt my head and consider it. Twenty minutes to dry my hair, five to put on an outfit, ten for makeup and two for the glass of fae wine I plan to slam before we leave.
With a shake of my head I shut the door. “No, that leaves a minute and a half for awkward small talk and I’m not much into the weather or the Cowboys.”
Following me to the kitchen, he laughs. “I do not like the Cowboys.”
Squinting my eyes at him, I give him another once-over (mostly because he’s delicious). “An Eagles fan then.”
“You’re horrible at this. If I liked the human sport and if I had a team, it would be the Patriots.”
Of course he’d like the team that cheats. I shrug, and point him toward the couch in the living room. “I’ll be ready in—”
“Thirty-seven minutes,” he finishes my sentence.
I shoot him a scathing look, but a smile breaks across my face when I turn and head to dry my hair.
Thirty-five minutes later, I’m pouring fae wine into my glass and offering Beelzebub one as well. He takes a moment to appreciate the tight red dress I’ve put on, which matches the color of his shirt perfectly, and swallows. Who knew the prince could be so nervous? Or perhaps that’s his undeniable attraction to me. Whether that’s because I’m a succubus or because he truly likes me is yet to be determined. Even though I’ve pulled my glamour back up, the aftershocks of my allure are still lingering with him. In another hour or so, the effect will have faded.
“I’m good.”
“You’re rather tame for a demon prince.”
Half of my wine is gone and we are nearing minute thirty-six. Not being one to disappoint, I take another sip, savoring the taste during the final seconds.
He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Sometimes.” The effect makes him appear unsure of himself, but seeing as he is the Prince of Pride, I doubt that very much.
I can’t pinpoint what his game is at this point. If it was sex he wanted, I’d have gladly accepted him into my bed. He’s always been nice to me regardless of how Lucifer treats me and he’s never acted resentful for the power bestowed to me and my kind.
He glances at his watch, as though he’s been timing me, and I drain the last sip of wine in two seconds.
“Thirty-seven,” he says, taking in the now-empty glass. “You’re oddly precise.”
“I blame it on my immortality.”
He nods, like that makes sense, because it really does. You learn a lot about yourself and your habits when you’ve lived for a few hundred years. Not all of those years were spent on Earth, but I’ve perfected my routine since coming to live here.
We arrive at Fusion and Beelzebub’s reservation has us passing several unhappy couples who didn’t think to plan ahead. Had he expected me to accept his offer, or was I simply a backup plan?
The waiter pulls out a high-backed chair for me, and gently slides it in as I sit. The only things on the crisp white tablecloth are a single rose in a silver vase and the place settings. The waiter returns a few minutes later with a bottle of regular human wine—much to my disappointment as the fae wine hasn’t fully kicked in—and takes our order.
The conversation with Beelzebub is easy, and for a moment I convince myself he really did just want to have dinner with me. His eyes shine with laughter when I make a snide comment, and I find myself grinning like a fool.
“I’ll be right back,” he excuses himself after we finish eating and heads toward the restrooms.
Taking in the marvelous chandelier across the room, I distract myself by listening to the conversations around me. A few first dates, many of which will end horribly, and a few married couples. There’s nothing very exciting to listen in on, so I glance toward the restrooms, mentally chastising myself for the desperate move.
When I spot Beelzebub talking to Verrina, a princess of Hell whose power lies in impatience, a cold bucket of reality washes over me. Of course there was some political motive to his request. I don’t wait to hear what his pitch is. Averting my gaze so as not to draw his attention, I stand and head toward the exit.
Fucking royals.
A few hours later, my phone dings and I move to check the message. Jasper’s name lights up the screen and a series of colorful words fill th
e text. I sigh; part of me is very disappointed that Beelzebub hasn’t called or shown up at my door demanding to know why I left him. We had a wonderful time up until I saw him chatting it up with Verrina.
Jasper: I need a fucking drink, bitch. The alcoholic kind. Meet me at our spot.
Ever the dramatic, Jasper is. With all the blood he drank, he should be flying high. The children probably messed with his head. The situation bothered me as well, but I’ve grown used to this dastardly world. Despite demons, fae, and mages, humans are still their own worst enemy once the concept of sin wormed its way into their minds. Jasper hasn’t quite come to terms with that.
Me: You’re buying, dick.
With a smirk, I toss the device into my purse and head to my car. Perhaps I’m a bit overdressed for a cocktail lounge, but c’est la vie.
The Quarter Lounge is bustling with the Saturday night dinner crowd. I search the tables sitting on the marbled floor before I spot Jasper at the bar, flirting with Lo, our favorite bartender. Lo smiles and winks at him before she helps the next customer.
“I hope you are treating Lo well,” I tease before sliding onto the barstool next to him.
“She loves me. We are going to take a trip to Costa Rica together,” he says in a wistful tone.
“Does she know you prefer partners with more girth in the nether regions?”
He glares at me. “When you say it like that it sounds gross. Girth.” He mock shudders.
“Hey, Shera, what’re you drinking tonight?” Lo sets a water down in front of me.
“I’ll take a gin martini, dirty.” I wink and she laughs.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”