by Jill Myles
She shook her head and headed for the exit doors. “Leave. Now.” Her words were muffled around her own cheeseburger, and I scooped up my clothing and burritos and trotted after her as best I could in my four-inch heels.
The hair prickled on the back of my neck as we ran through the empty parking garage and back to her BMW. We had the doors locked within seconds, and Remy didn’t even let me buckle my seat belt before ripping out of the parking lot like the end of the world was upon us.
My burrito smashed into the passenger window, spraying beans and hot sauce everywhere. I slid against the door, trying to stay in my seat and failing. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted, glaring at her from the other side of the car. “You’re going to get us killed!”
She ignored me, tossing her cheeseburger on the dashboard and putting both hands on the steering wheel to take the most frightening U-turn of my life. My body slammed against the car door again and I groaned. “Stop that!”
“Quit being a baby and buckle up. We have to get out of here ASAP unless you want to stick around and find out if your follower is a vamp or a dealer. Either one spells trouble.”
I fumbled with the seat belt. “You think someone’s after me?” Heck, I didn’t even know what a dealer was, yet I’d managed to piss one off?
Remy ran a red light and cut through a side street. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see her driving anymore. “If the vamps suspect you were turned into a succubus-and I bet someone knows-they’ll be looking for you.” The car swerved hard to the right again, and Remy’s long hair smacked me in the face as we cornered. “A succubus is the perfect tool for a vampire, since we can go places they can’t. Throw in your vamp master, and you don’t have the luxury of telling them ‘no.’”
She paused for a long moment, the only sound the squealing of the tires and other cars as they honked at us. “Speaking of which, if your vamp master is an unscrupulous type-and most are-then it’s a safe bet that he’s going to try to use you for his own devices. I made a deal with my master, and you can do the same with yours, but they’re generally not good deals to make. I had to give up two hundred years of my free will to get him off my back for the next two hundred. And when those finish, I have to answer to him again.”
I thought of the Dumpster and what the homeless man had said: Black-haired. Real tall. He kissed your cheek and then dumped you in there.
“I think they know that I’m still alive,” I admitted.
“I thought that might be the case,” said Remy. “They seem to have their fingers in everything, and they’re going to try to get to you before the dealers do.”
“What are dealers?”
“Most of ’em are angels, but not the kind like Noah. These are the ones with access to Heaven. Most Sucks I know call them dealers because that’s what they do. They offer you a deal, which turns out to be more like a hit of drugs for us undead types, and you end up addicted. You need to avoid dealers most of all, because they tend to offer things that you feel you can’t pass up. It’s best to never get involved.”
Silence hovered between us.
“What are you thinking?” Remy’s voice floated through the silent car.
“I’m thinking that the clothes, the new body, and the food can’t hide the fact that this is a major shit deal,” I said, unable to keep the fear and anger out of my voice. I clung to the chicken bar in the car, keeping my eyes squeezed shut. “If I’m stuck between angels and vampires that want me to do their dirty work, and I have to have sex every seven days-”
“Two,” Remy corrected.
My eyes flew open just in time to see her screech through a four-way stop, slamming on her horn as she cut off a Buick. “What did you say?”
“I lied to you earlier. It’s actually sex every two days. I just didn’t want you to get alarmed.”
Alarmed?
Alarmed?
I wasn’t alarmed, I was furious. “You’re kidding me, right?”
She shook her head, put on her turn signal, and raced up a long driveway. “Nope. Two days.”
“Before meeting Noah, I hadn’t had sex in a year and a half. Or even dated in a year and a half.”
Remy giggled girlishly. “Really? How funny.”
“I’m not laughing,” I snapped. “I don’t go around getting into bed with every guy that I date, either. I only have sex in relationships.”
She winked at me and reached for her cheeseburger off the dashboard. “That’s not what I heard outside the confessional.”
I gasped. “I think I hate you.”
Remy laughed at my outrage. “No, you don’t. Try to think of me as your new best friend. Trust me when I say you’ll want to stick with me for the next few weeks. It’s much safer that way.”
Our frightening roller coaster of a ride had taken us to a sprawling mansion that should have been in Beverly Hills. Trimmed hedges adorned a perfectly sculpted lawn, the driveway was longer than the street I’d grown up on, and twinkling lanterns lined the path to the door. The very big, stained-glass door with a beautiful rose window above it could have been copied from the cathedral at Notre Dame. “Uh, is this your place?” I asked as Remy parked.
She nodded, grabbing her bags out of the back of the car. “Fully warded against all angels, vampires, and demons. Magical protection to keep them out. You can stay with me, until we establish your boundaries with all of the gang. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
I wobbled after her on the cobblestones. “Did you just say demons?”
CHAPTER NINE
The room Remy graciously gave me for my personal use was bigger than my apartment on the far side of town. The angry part of me was disgusted, but the girly part of me wanted to frolic in the massive closet, the canopy bed, and the sunken bathtub with power jets. I let the frolic side win.
After I hung up all my new clothes, tested all the expensive shampoos and lotions on the vanity, and took an hour-long bubble bath, I poked through my new clothes. My mouth watered as the faint scent of breakfast hit my nostrils, and I decided to follow the scent of bacon downstairs. I dressed in my new silk pajamas-the most decent item of clothing I now owned-and searched through the mansion until I found Remy, my cell phone in hand.
My new roommate was in the kitchen, sitting at the marble breakfast bar with a cup of coffee. Her silky black hair hung in an elegant, smooth ponytail, and she was dressed in a beautiful lounge set of sky blue. She looked like an ad for Elegant Living magazine. “Back so soon?”
I thrust the phone at her. “First things first. If I call in sick to work again, I’ll get fired for sure.”
She gave me a curious look. “And? You don’t need that job. You’re with me now, and what I can’t provide, Noah will.”
“As swell as that sounds, I’d rather not be a kept woman, or kept succubus, or whatever I am now. Besides, I like my job.” It wasn’t much of a lie; I did like it most of the time. There were just aspects of it I hated-like my boss. “Just because I’m undead doesn’t mean I have to totally change my life.”
At least I hoped it didn’t mean that.
Remy smiled and put down her coffee cup. “We’re not undead. We’re immortal.”
“I’m immortal?”
“Essentially. There are only two ways for our kind to die.”
“And how is that?”
“Usually by proxy. If both of your masters die, you die.”
That sounded like a crappy catch. “And what happens then?”
She lifted her shoulders in a dainty shrug and avoided eye contact. “You cease to exist on this plane.”
Gee. “Do I still exist in another plane?”
Another vague shrug. “I suppose. It’s not something our kind likes to talk about.”
I ignored the feeling of dread in my stomach. I wouldn’t think about that now; I’d think about that later.
I shoved the phone under her nose again. “Regardless, I need you to call in to work for me.” I wasn’t budging on this. “
Do you know how hard a good museum job is to come by in this city? And my boss will smell a scam a mile away, so you need to, like, be my doctor or something. Tell her I have something harmless, okay?” I took the phone from her fingers and dialed the number before she could protest.
Remy grinned at me and held the phone up to her ear, waiting. I assume someone picked up on the other end, for Remy cleared her throat and began in a businesslike tone, “Yes, I should like to speak to …” She paused to look at me.
“Ms. Cliver, museum director.”
“A Ms. Cliver, if you please. She would be the supervisor of a Ms. Jacqueline Brighton.” Gone was the playful, teasing Remy voice. In its place was a clipped British accent. She flashed me a wink while we waited. “Yes, Ms. Cliver? This is Dr. Summore. Jacqueline Brighton is a patient of mine, and she wanted me to let you know that she is having an adverse reaction to the anesthesia she received. I’m afraid we cannot release her from the hospital for several more days. She will remain under my care until then.”
There was a pause in the conversation and Remy nodded, making a few “mm-hmm” noises of agreement. “It was a surgical procedure of a personal nature.” Another pause. “Breast augmentation.”
I gasped and tried to snatch the phone away from her. Remy sidestepped me easily and continued to talk into the phone. “I understand, Ms. Cliver,” she responded, looking me straight in the eye and trying not to laugh. “Yes, I will tell her when she recovers consciousness. Yes, yes, of course. Good day to you.” She snapped the phone shut with a smug smile and handed it back to me. “All taken care of.”
“What are you thinking?” I exploded. “My boss can’t think I’m skipping work for a boob job!”
“If it makes you feel any better, she said she wasn’t surprised. Besides, how else do you plan on explaining the new, improved you?”
As she spoke, a small elderly woman in an apron and powder-blue dress entered the kitchen and my protest died in my throat as I watched her prepare a plate of bacon, eggs, and sausage for Remy.
My stomach rumbled at the sight. Remy picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on the end. “You hungry?”
“We just ate not too long ago.” But I was hungry.
“Your metabolism’s different now that you’re immortal.” She leaned in, whispering, “Besides, if I have the servants cook three meals a day for me, they think I’m normal.”
“You have servants?”
Her brows creased together. “Uh, yeah. You didn’t think I was the housework type, did you?”
Well, no. I leaned in, trying to keep my voice low. “But what about the whole undead thing? The vampires?”
She rolled her eyes and took another bite of bacon. I was tempted to steal it off her plate; it smelled amazing and I was starving. “First of all,” she said, “quit saying that we’re undead. It makes me think of zombies. Second of all, no vamps or any other weirdos can come here. I’m warded, remember? The best witches in town crawled all over this place. Priests too, so stop worrying about that part. Third of all, it’s not like I do anything unusual except have a few male guests now and then.” She shrugged once again. “Ethel just thinks I’m a bit of a loose woman.” Remy took another bite of bacon and beamed at me. “So do you want breakfast?”
Of course, I did. I turned to Ethel. “I’ll have what she’s having, please.”
Remy grinned at me. “Well, well, aren’t we proper and polite? I bet you turned in your homework on time and made straight A’s through school.”
I ignored her and poured myself a cup of coffee.
Remy wouldn’t be deterred. “Any boyfriends? Or did dating interfere with work? And how about sex partners? I’d be guessing fewer than three.”
She’d be guessing two too many, if you didn’t count Noah, but I wasn’t letting her know that. I returned her ambiguous shrug and dug into the food Ethel placed in front of me.
“Oh, come on. Are you still mad about the job thing?” Remy gave me an incredulous look.
“I’m a little mad, yeah,” I found myself saying. “Do you know how hard it is to find a decent docent position in this city?”
“A decent what?”
“A docent. Museum tour guide. It’s a good job.”
Remy’s bright blue eyes looked over-bright in her honey-colored face. “Sounds boring as all hell. Don’t worry, I imagine you’ll still have a job in a few days-which gives you plenty of time to figure out what your situation is.”
I stirred four cubes of sugar and some creamer into my coffee and slurped it. Delicious. “Uh, situation? What do you mean, other than the whole succubus thing?”
Remy polished off her breakfast with a few quick bites. “Well, you’ve got a lot of things on your plate right now: first and foremost being the fact that someone took the time to drain you dry and then left you in Noah’s path. It could have been coincidence, but I’m not a big believer in that sort of thing. That means the vamps have an agenda, and we need them to make the first move so we can figure out what they’re up to. Not to mention I’m still expecting one of the others to make an appearance. They usually do.”
I took a bite of the most blissfully crisp bacon in my life and sighed with delight. As I ate a few more slices, Remy continued to stare at me. “Oh,” I said, realizing she was waiting for me to respond. I had to think back to what she had said. “What ‘others’ do you mean?”
“Angels and the like. If we’re unlucky, a demon or two.”
I choked on my bacon. “Do we have to see all those?”
“I’m hoping not, but you never know-especially with a new succubus. You’re like an ever-flowing goody bag to them, so they’re drawn to our kind.”
I wrinkled my nose at her. “So in other words, I’m now catnip to the scum of the world?”
“Scum of the Heavens is more like it.” Remy jumped up and grabbed my plate as I was buttering a biscuit. “Come on, we’ve got to leave soon if we don’t want to be late.”
I crammed the biscuit into my mouth and watched longingly as she removed my plate. “Why is it,” I muttered around a mouthful of food, “that we can’t be late to your job? My boss thought I was out getting my boobs done.”
Remy winked. “Trust me, all right?”
I sulked. “I hate it when you say that.”
“That’s why I say it. Now go and get dressed like a good little succubus.”
I slammed out of my seat. “Fine. But we’d better be making a doughnut run on the way, or someone’s going to be cranky.”
Remy laughed as I trotted upstairs.
Since I didn’t know what Remy did for a living, I didn’t know what I should wear. Since she was dragging me against my will, I opted for casual and slid into the hot pink Juicy sweatsuit we’d picked up yesterday. It was comfortable, hugged my new body like a second skin, and bold printing across the fanny pronounced my ass was “Juicy” indeed. With my new looks and my new friend, it felt more like I was playing a role than being myself, and I decided to dress for the part. I stepped into some matching sneaker pumps and grabbed my purse.
Remy met me at the bottom of the staircase. I was relieved to see she was wearing something similar, except her jumpsuit was a dark blue and she wore a shirt under it that had a pink star across the chest. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
She drove, naturally. I didn’t own a car, and Remy didn’t seem like the public transportation type. I had to admit that I didn’t mind riding around in the posh little BMW.
The drive downtown was relatively short. Perhaps because it was so early in the morning, but the traffic was clear as could be. Remy was as wide awake as me, and since neither of us had slept in days, I supposed that the not-sleeping thing had some truth in it.
We pulled up in front of a nondescript building on the corner of Sixth and Main, in the business district. The windows were clean, the shades open, and I could see people moving around inside what seemed to be a busy office. Surprised, I turned to Remy. “You work in a corporate offic
e?”
“Not exactly.” She winked at me and slid out of the car.
The sight of two beautiful women walking into the office didn’t cause even one head to turn. It bugged me; I knew how damn good I looked. But the suits sat in their desks, answered their phones, and ignored us. Bizarre.
Remy waved at the receptionist as she walked to one of the back rooms. “We’re heading for the studio.”
I followed close behind her, curious. “Is that why you looked so familiar to me? Are you an actress?”
“Something along those lines, yeah.” She gave me a very blue-eyed look and I realized that Remy would need to feed her Itch, and soon, or we could have some problems.
She pushed through the double doors ahead of me and was immediately greeted by a man with a headset over his ear. “Remy baby, how are you?”
“Good morning, James. I’m lovely. How are you?” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, her hand sliding into his. “Is everything ready for the shoot?”
“Ready as they’ll ever be.” He gestured to the set in front of us, which looked like a bedroom in the final stages of preparation. Stage hands rushed everywhere, fluffing pillows and straightening the covers, and securing microphones in out-of-the-way locations. I watched with interest, wondering what they were taping. Soaps, maybe?
“Your costar’s in his dressing room. I’ll get him if you like, and we can begin whenever.” He turned toward me and gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Who’s your friend? Redheads are in right now.”
Flattered, I gave him a faint smile and looked to Remy. She beamed and looped her arm through his, grinning. “This is my friend Jackie. She’s a museum dough-spend.”
“Docent,” I corrected, offering James my hand, smiling graciously. “At least, if I still have my job.”
“They’d be fools to fire you,” he whispered against my hand, raising it to kiss. “Let me know if you’d ever like a job in the industry.”
“The industry?”