by L. L. Frost
SUCCUBUS BARGAIN: THE TERMS
Copyright © 2017 by L.L. Frost
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by L.L. Frost
Book design by L.L. Frost
Printed in the United States of America.
First Printing, 2017
Succubus Bargain
The Offer
The Deal
The Terms
The Rules (Coming Soon)
Table of Contents
The Terms
(un)Happy
Grade A Something
Bargain Shopping
About the Author
The Terms
My announcement doesn’t garner the immediate reaction I hoped for. Instead, Kellen yawns and shuffles to one of the couches to sprawl across it, one leg hanging off the side, foot still on the ground. It perfectly displays the long line of his delicious body and puts the ridged bulge in his boxer briefs on full display.
Emil ignores me, head lifting as he sniffs the air before his ice-colored eyes land on the tray in Tobias’s hands. “Is that coffee?”
Tobias grunts in response. “She didn’t bring a straw.”
“Stay away from mine, Emil,” Kellen warns as he folds an arm behind his head, eyes closing. “And will someone bring me a croissant with the coffee? I’m starving.”
“Lazy people don’t get to make demands,” Emil snaps as he and Tobias walk toward a small archway tucked in next to the left staircase.
My arm starts to shake from holding the briefcase aloft, and I drop it back to my side with an annoyed huff. “Umm, hello. I have a deal to make?”
“Adie, you sweet mess,” Kellen extends an arm to me, fingers curled in invitation. “Come lay on top of me.”
My hand tightens around my briefcase as irritation turns to anger. “I’m here for a serious discussion, not to play games.”
Kellen bats his lightning-blue eyes at me, his lips formed into a pout. “But I’m cold.”
“Then put on some fucking clothes!” I spin on one dirty, bare heel and storm after Tobias and Emil, determined to get this issue settled.
They’ve stalked me for two days demanding I sign their contract. How dare they disregard me now that I’ve come to them. A clock ticks in the back of my mind, every second wasted risks the entire contents of my apartment being auctioned off. All because of that lazy ass, sexy demon on the couch.
He should feel lucky I’m ignoring his invitation right now. With the mood I’m in, he’s more likely to get a knee to the groin than a cuddle.
I pass through the archway and freeze, eyes wide as I take in the kitchen. Three times the size of the one at my apartment, it fills half of the new room with a large dining table taking up the other half. Dark wood, floor to ceiling cabinets, surround a full-size fridge and freezer on one wall.
At the back, directly across from me, a long, marble counter glows gently, its white surface transformed to a faint pink by the rising sun that comes through a large window. A farm style sink sits beneath it, large enough to fit my full-size baker sheets without problem. An industrial chrome hood hangs over an enormous island in the center of the room, with a six-burner gas stove beneath.
Gaze glued to the island, I drift closer to circle around it. On the other side, I discover side-by-side full-size convection ovens, their glass fronts pristine.
I run my fingertips along the knob controls at the front of the stovetop. With a setup like this, I could bake so many treats.
“Huh. I would have thought that expression was reserved for sex.”
Heat floods my cheeks as Tobias’s quiet words snap me out of my love affair with their kitchen.
I narrow my eyes on him. “You haven’t gotten close to seeing what expression I have during sex.”
One eyebrow arches as he takes a sip from his coffee cup. “Pretty sure I did.”
I walk down the island until I stand across from them, gaze focused on Kellen. “Bathrooms in coffee shops don’t count.”
He leans forward on his elbows, the cardboard cup dangling from his fingertips. “The place doesn’t matter as long as you’re feeling good.”
I lean forward, too, until only a foot of counter separates us. “Sucking down your energy has nothing to do with feeling good.” The sweet scent of coffee comes from him, and my stomach growls. "I get the same excitement from eating chocolate cake."
"Liar." His eyes drop to my mouth. "You were three seconds away from ripping my pants open."
"You need to control that over inflated ego of yours." His fingers tighten around the coffee cup until the lid pops off and the heat of volcanoes fills the space between us.
His voice rumbles like earthquakes. "Care to put my ego to the test?"
"Yes." I slam my briefcase onto the counter, refusing to show a hint of fear. "That's exactly why I'm here."
"Tobias." Emil's soft voice cuts through the tension and my focus snaps to him.
The ice demon sits on a stool beside his friend, legs crossed and back straight. His coffee cup sits beside him on the counter, a pink bendy straw poking out of the top. The incongruity of this stuffy man sipping his coffee through the pink piece of plastic knocks the fight right out of me. If only I'd had this image three days ago when I met with them at K & B Financial. Maybe then I wouldn't have fled so quickly.
Though I'd needed the time to regroup and come up with an action plan.
Kellen wanders into the kitchen a moment later, scratching his bare abs. "What's all the fuss?"
Emil tips his head toward us. "Adeline and Tobias were performing some kind of combative mating ritual."
I rear back. "We were not!"
"Aww, and I missed it?" Kellen shuffles to the counter and opens a cupboard to pull out a pink box. Lifting the lid, he pulls out a large, buttery croissant. The pastry flakes as he takes a large bite then glances around. "Anyone else want one?"
Emil nods. "On a plate, if you please."
"I'm good with just coffee." Tobias casually straightens, as if he hadn't been close to leaping across the counter, and settles the lid back on his cup.
Kellen turns to me. "Are you hungry, Adie?"
I shiver at the words, almost an exact replica of what Emil said to me not even twenty-four hours ago. Like then, this feels like a trap. I have nothing to trade, though I did bring them coffee, which they already accepted. But that can be seen as part of the negotiation. And since they all accepted the coffees, that means I currently have the favor. If I take the pastry, I lose that slight lead.
I fold my hands over my briefcase. "No, thank you."
"Suit yourself." He fetches a small plate, throws a croissant onto it, then slides it down the counter to Emil, who catches it before it can slide off the edge. Balancing a second pastry on top of his own cup of coffee, Kellen joins the other two men on a stool across from me.
"So, you’ve come to offer a deal?" Emil prompts once everyone settles. He checks a large watch on his wrist. "You have fifteen minutes."
"Done." I snap the briefcase locks
open and pull out a thin stack of paper, sliding it across to Tobias.
He sets his cup aside to flip through the pages. "What's this?"
I meet his questioning gaze. "It's a standard roommate agreement."
He tosses the papers aside. "Why would we want that?"
I square my shoulders and glance at each of them in turn. "Because you are three demons of destruction, desperate to stay on the mortal plane and in need of a succubus roommate. I've already drained off some of your energy over the last few days, but it's only a matter a time before you're back at cataclysmic levels."
If my knowledge of their origin surprises them, they're good at hiding it.
Emil lifts a white eyebrow, his expression bored. "Which is why we offered you the initial contract."
"What you offered me was enslavement, no matter how pretty the terms." I point to the contract in front of Tobias. "What I'm offering is a civil agreement between adults to share a living space."
Kellen takes a bite of croissant and speaks around his mouthful. "That doesn't work for us. We need guarantees that you'll drain our energies on a regular basis."
"Which brings me to the next part of the deal." I pull out another stack of papers, this one larger. "You will absolve me of any backlash from skimming your energies while we are together." I place this part of the contract on top of the roommate agreement. "I will, of course, agree to not take enough to damage your corporeal forms."
My gaze shifts to Emil, who so recently risked his current body yesterday when he gave me free reign to feed off him. He meets my eyes, steady and unrepentant.
Tobias skims through the papers, then passes them to Emil, who takes longer to read them. When Kellen walks over to take a look himself, I shift on my feet, toes numb from the cold tiles of the kitchen floor. The clock on the wall steadily ticks, every minute building toward the auction block.
I clear my throat. "The third part of my deal is with Kellen exclusively."
The storm demon straightens with a broad smile. "Lucky me."
I withdraw a single piece of paper, my signature already on the bottom, and hold it out to him. "Before I will sign any of these documents, you will settle your claim against me."
He folds his arms across his chest and refuses to accept the form. "And why would I do that? You stole from me. These other deals have nothing to do with the actions you took against the humans in my club. That's protected ground, which you violated."
Damn, I'd hoped he would just give in since they were getting everything they wanted in the first place, just with fewer shackles imposed on me. But I'd planned for the worse and stopped back by Landon's house, where I kept an emergency kit. My mentor hadn't found it yet since it would involve him actually cleaning, something he refuses to do for himself.
When I slip a hand into the front of my shirt, fingers sliding beneath the neon blue cup of my bra, Kellen's eyes widen with anticipation. Does he really only have one thing on his mind?
Shaking my head, I withdraw a tiny vial and set it on the counter in front of him. "This is more than sufficient to cover the energy I stole."
Tobias straightens with sudden, sharp interest, his eyes tracking Kellen’s movements as the other man lifts the vial and shakes the glass container. Inside, a drop of iridescent liquid rolls around, tiny rainbows splashing into smaller drops before drawing back together to form a single ball.
Kellen licks his lips, fingers curling protectively around the vial. "Is it one of yours?"
I drop my hands behind the counter so they can't see my clenched fists. "Does it matter?"
Succubus tears are difficult to come by and worth a small fortune on the black market. A feather would have cost me less, but all the ones I’ve collected over the years are locked up in my apartment. Whether or not it's mine, though, shouldn't matter to anyone except a collector.
I peek at Tobias and shiver. The first time we met, I feared he was a hunter of some kind, and the avid interest in his eyes only compounds that concern.
Will I be safe living here?
"I suppose not," Kellen tucks the vial into the waistband of his boxer briefs and gives me a roguish smile. "Though, I'd like to see you cry."
The tension eases from my shoulders. "Pervert."
"Of course." He extends a hand. "Did you bring a pen?"
I fumble in my rush to hand it over, but Kellen catches it smoothly before the sharp tip breaks against the counter.
He taps it against the form, then sets the pen down. “Why should I sign this before you sign the other contracts? What’s to stop you from bolting as soon as you’re free of the claim against you?”
I lift my chin. “My word.”
Emil scoffs, and Tobias snickers. Yeah, I didn’t think that would work either.
“What’s to stop you from selling off my stuff just for fun?” At his affronted expression, I add, “I already gave you the tear as a show of trust.”
“That was a bad move on your part,” Emil points out. “Another sign of how ill-suited you are to business.”
I whip around to stare at him, and he jerks his head away from his pink bendy straw. A bead of coffee freezes on his lower lip, and he licks it away before straightening the cardboard insulation sleeve, as if I didn’t just catch him in the act. A little of the color fades from his eyes as his stare dares me to comment.
My eyes narrow. “Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?”
“It can’t be helped when a rude person barges into my home at dawn.” He checks his watch once more. “Your time is up.”
“Look, you cantankerous, stuff shirt—”
“How dare you—”
“How dare I?” I rise on my tiptoes, my wings an angry vibration along my spine. “If you would pull the icicle out of your—”
“Whoa, there.” Kellen shoves half a croissant into my mouth, effectively cutting off my words. He nudges my chin and mimes chewing. “Now isn’t that better than fighting?”
Tobias takes the two contracts I handed him and stacks them neatly. “We will agree to these terms providing you move in today.”
I choke down the pastry and croak out a protest, “But I haven’t even packed.”
“Already taken care of.” With a sigh, Kellen lifts the pen once more.
He presses the needle-sharp tip into the meat of his index finger to draw a drop of blood, then scrawls his name across the bottom of his form, relinquishing his claim against me. With both of our signatures in place, the paper vanishes. It should arrive at the Clerk’s Office within the hour, well before my apartment goes up for auction.
I stare at the empty counter top, a weight lifting from my shoulders now that my possessions are safe. Then his words sink in and my head snaps up. “What do you mean it’s already taken care of?”
He shrugs as he passes the pen to Tobias. “Everything had to be boxed up for sale anyway, so I had it brought here.”
“Th—that’s—” The rage that spikes through me makes it impossible for me to form sentences. How dare they touch my things? What if I’d been able to dispute his claim?
“That’s convenient.” Tobias supplies as he signs both contracts. “You should thank us.”
“There is, of course, the small cost of paying the movers.” Emil doesn’t glance up, intent on neatly signing his name on the next line.
“Movers?” I rub my hand over my hair, my fingers tangling in the matted locks.
Kellen bounces over to sign his own name, then shoves the pen and contracts back across the island to me. They butt up against my briefcase, the names still glistening wetly.
“Yes, movers.” Tobias says slowly. “How else were you planning to get your stuff here?”
“In my car?” My meager bank account can’t afford professionals, especially not after all the gas and fast food of the last few days.
“I’ve seen your car. It never would have fit.” Emil sniffs and slides off his stool. “I’m going back to bed for an hour. Don’t disturb me.”
“Yes, Mr. Fussy Pants,” I mutter under my breath.
His steps hesitate for a moment, but he strides from the room without glancing back. A moment later the stairs creak as he goes back to his bedroom.
Helpless, I stare at Tobias and Kellen, feeling like I got caught in my own trap. “I can’t afford to pay the movers.”
“That’s okay, we’ll just tack it onto your rent.” Kellen stretches, the muscles on his chest rippling. “I’ll be back up at noon if you need help unpacking.”
And what would that cost me? “I think I’ll manage on my own, but thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” With a wave, he shuffles out of the kitchen.
Left alone with Tobias, I lift the pen and sign my name beneath theirs, sealing my fate. When I finish, I pass them back to him and beg, “Please show me to your nearest shower.”
(un)Happy
I triple check the lock on the bathroom door while the water heats up in the shower. In an old house like this, with the water heater in the basement, the hot water has a long way to travel.
When Tobias walked me upstairs and showed me the bathroom, I'd been surprised to find it so small. After the kitchen, I expected a grand, five-piece bath. Instead, I walked into a room the size of a closet. The door bangs against the claw-footed tub when open, and the pedestal sink with zero excess counter space barely fits next to the short toilet.
But it smells of lemons and soap, and the white, octagon-tiled floor sparkles with a fresh cleaning. No toothpaste marks the sink, and the wastebasket, neatly tucked between the sink and the wall, doesn't even hold a ball of tissue inside.
Nice and clean.
At least, it was until I left dirty footsteps all over it.
I shrug and finish brushing my teeth. Once I'm out of the shower, I can wipe up the footprints with my used towel. Behind me, steam rolls out of the shower, and I eagerly drop my toothbrush into the holder beside a bright blue one, strip out of my filthy clothes, and hop over the high side of the tub, whisking the shower curtain closed.