by L. L. Frost
I huff in exasperation. “Not like that.”
“No, of course not.” Julian sounds equally exasperated. “I blame Landon for your failings as a succubus. He was far too young and lazy to raise you right.”
My wings shiver against my spine, instantly defensive. “He did his best.”
“You’re sweet, darling, but no he didn’t.” The creak comes again, followed by a thump. “I’m going to the club tonight. Should I pop by your new place to pick you up?”
“You’re not getting an invitation to come investigate that easily.”
“You rude child. I was only thinking about you.”
“No, you were only thinking about laying your eyes on my new roommates.”
“More than my eyes,” he purrs. “The rumors I’ve heard…”
I perk up in an instant. The way he trails off, means he has some juicy gossip, but he won’t give it away for free. I try to sound disinterested. “Oh?”
His tone turns sly. “Invite me over, and I’ll tell you all about them.”
A gentle knock on the doorframe pulls me from the pile of pillows. Over the fluffy mound, I spot Kellen lounging in the open doorway. He put on more clothes this time, a soft pair of flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt that hugs his muscular chest.
I lift the phone to my ear once more. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“But what abou—”
His voice cuts off as I hit the end button and set the phone aside. Petting the blue pillow in my arms, I smooth down the decorative feathers as I stare at Kellen. “Are you here to be mean to me, too?”
“Someone sounds like they need a hug.” He straightens and takes a step into the room.
“Stop!” I point at him, and he freezes, one foot still in the air. “This is my room. I didn’t invite you inside.”
“Ahh.” He takes an exaggerated step back and resumes his position in the doorway. “Had a bad morning?”
“Your friends are assholes.” I abandon the pillow and crawl to the opposite end of the bed to see him better. “You’re an asshole, too. I’m living with a group of assholes.”
He winces. “We’re not that bad.”
I flop onto my back to stare at the high ceiling. Open rafters crisscross the high peak. They put me at the top of the east facing tower in what can loosely be termed a finished attic space. “I have yet to see compelling evidence to the contrary.”
Since he can’t argue, he ignores my statement. “Do you want help unpacking?”
I fold my arms over my stomach. “Didn’t you already paw through my stuff enough?”
“Well, actually, I wasn’t there to oversee the movers.” A board creaks as he shifts his weight. “Your cousin let them in.”
“Figures.” I snort, unsurprised by Julian’s betrayal. As he’d said before, he had his own interests to look after first. Demons, as a whole, are selfish creatures. Head turning, I see Kellen settled cross-legged on the floor outside my doorway. “One of my pillows is missing.”
He leans to one side to take a long look at the large pile at my headboard. “How can you tell?”
“They’re mine, I know.” I sniff and return my attention to the ceiling. Overhead, the crisscrossing beams form a pentagram. Fantastic. “It’s a purple sequined, square pillow, one and a half feet square.”
“It might still be in one of the boxes,” he offers, sounding uninterested.
Annoyance skitters through me. He would care if it were something of his that went missing. “I looked. It’s not.“
Despite the apparent disarray, I already sorted through the boxes and separated them into kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and living room. But that doesn’t mean I have anywhere to put those items. I need to investigate the kitchen to see what I have double of, and the bathroom I apparently share with Emil doesn’t offer a lot of space for my stuff.
I picture the fussy demon’s face if he came back to discover a new shower caddy and shelves to hold my products. Maybe a floor cart. He’d probably blow a gasket. I curl my legs up to my stomach to hug my knees, ridiculously happy at the idea.
Kellen’s voice interrupts my imagining. “How do you like the room?”
“There’s no closet.” I discovered that right away, so even after a quick hunt located my suitcases, they remain packed.
At my apartment, I didn’t need a dresser. It’s really the only thing I can come up with to complain about. The room offers more than enough space to put my bedroom set and living room furniture in and still have excess floor space for new furniture. Aside of needing the bathroom and kitchen, I could make this my own little apartment and never have to interact with the others.
I frown at the thought. Is that why they gave me such a big room? Am I expected to stay out of their way unless they need me to drain their energy? My focus shifts to my small, floral printed couch. I’m dragging it downstairs the first chance I get.
Prepare to be invaded, bachelor pad.
“There might be a dresser in the basement.” Kellen’s voice pulls my narrowed, suspicious gaze his way, and he shrugs. “The last succubus left all her stuff here, so we just had it moved downstairs. She was a huge headache like that.” When I don’t immediately leap up, he adds, “It’s all unclaimed goods.”
“Oh?” I sit up, interested despite myself. Unclaimed goods mean I won’t have to offer anything in trade for them. If there really is furniture available, it will save my poor bank account from total destitution.
He rises smoothly to his feet with a smile. “And to show I’m not a complete asshole, I’ll even help carry up whatever you want.”
I bounce off the bed and shove my feet into my sneakers. “So you admit you’re somewhat of an asshole?”
His smile broadens into a grin. “I’m a demon.”
“That’s a weak excuse.” Chin up, I march past him and down the stairs.
On the second floor landing, we bypass the bathroom and a closed door that I assume hides Emil’s room. When I paused next to it earlier, the air outside smelled like him. Did they put him up here so any icy power surges he has won’t interfere with them?
I glance over my shoulder. “Do you and Tobias have rooms in the west tower?”
“Yep. Tobias has the middle floor, and I have the top, like you.” As we reach the ground floor, he points to the curved staircase on the right side of the fireplace before batting his eyelashes at me. “If we both open our shutters, we can see into each other’s towers.” His eyebrows waggle. “I walk around in the nude, in case you’re interested.”
I widen my eyes at him in mock fascination. “Is this a scheduled event? Should I bring popcorn?”
He nods solemnly. “We can string two soup cans together so I can call and let you know when the show starts.”
I can’t hold back the snort of laughter. “I look forward to it.”
“Ah, there it is!” He points at my face. “I knew there was a smile in there somewhere.”
I scowl up at him. “I’m actually a very happy person.”
“And now it’s gone.” His fingers drift down my bare arm, leaving a path of lightning sparks behind, before he laces our fingers together. “Come on. The basement’s this way.”
He tugs me toward the kitchen.
Without a conscious effort to resist them, the tiny pricks seep through my skin and into my belly. I shiver despite myself. Unused to such frequent doses of energy, I can’t stop myself from shifting closer until I walk alongside him, my arm pressing against his. The place where our skin meets tingles, a buzz of warmth that suffuses my whole body in a light flush.
If Kellen notices, he doesn’t comment as we enter the kitchen and he leads me to a door to the right, tucked in next to the dining table, that I’d assumed led to a pantry.
When he pulls it open, a flickering, overhead light comes on to reveal a narrow, wooden staircase. One of those types with an open back that anyone can reach through to grab the person walking down them. They remind me of every horror movie I’ve ever seen where the b
lond girl gets murdered by a psycho who lives in the basement.
My fingers tighten in reflex, crushing Kellen’s hand before I force myself to release him and step forward. Time to be a brave little succubus. Or a stupidly dead one.
Bargain Shopping
He crowds against my back in a rush of sparks. “Use the handrail. The steps aren’t evenly spaced.”
I discover that for myself a moment later when my heel slams into the third step down, finding resistance way before I expected to. Stumbling, I grab the thin rail mounted to the stairs as Kellen fists the back of my tank top to steady me.
“Whoa, there.” His chest presses against my back, hand sliding to cup my ribcage. “You okay?”
I study the steep flight of stairs and give the railing an experimental tug. It wobbles, the wall brackets loose. “These stairs can’t be legal.”
Back still pressed against him, I feel his chest move as he shrugs. “There weren’t any building codes back when the house was built.”
“Why haven’t you fixed it?” Cautious now, I locate the next step with the toe of my sneaker before putting my weight down on it. Carrying furniture back up will be dangerous.
“No reason to when we don’t come down here often.”
As we pass below the line of the floor above, the wall disappears to reveal a large room, stuffed haphazardly with furniture and boxes. Against the left wall, I locate what looks to be an ancient washer and dryer, buried in the mess. My shoulders sag. It will take forever to dig a path to reach them.
My gaze sweeps over the room. “All of this can’t be from the last succubus.”
“Our furniture from the last two remodels is down here, too.” His breath ruffles the hair over my ear as he whispers loudly. “Tobias is a bit of a hoarder.”
“Seriously?” A couple sheet draped pieces look like couches, and I spot a giant tube television. “It’s a waste of space.”
“As long as it doesn’t impact the upper floors, we don’t really care.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “The clutter probably wouldn’t make Emil happy.”
“Oh, you picked up on that already?” Kellen sounds surprised.
“He’s a clean freak, right?” Emil’s annoyance at the mess I made in the bathroom gave him away. Even if they have a cleaner in once a week, the pristine sink and trash can scream fussiness.
“He likes things to be in their place,” Kellen says noncommittally.
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I pause, unsure where to start. The amount of stuff down here is daunting.
“Oh, look, there’s a dresser.” He announces and circles around me to lift a piece of furniture from the cement floor.
Envy rushes through me at the easy show of strength as he settles the large dresser back on its feet. I’d have to drain precious energy to do the same. The upper level demons sure have it easy.
We don’t get to choose the shape our corporeal forms take when we come to the human plane. While in dreamland, I’d gotten used to looking like a model, the centerfold of young male fantasies. Statuesque, with lean muscles. I’d been less than pleased to be handed an average height, physically weak body when I finally figured out how to escape dreamland. While still stronger than humans, and worlds above imps, succubus land squarely in the middle ground of the demon pecking order.
Kellen brushes dust off the top of the dresser as I come closer. The clean, solid lines and seven drawers would work perfectly for me. I tug on one chrome knob to pull the center drawer open. It glides smoothly, as do the rest of the drawers when I test them.
“Well, that was easy.” I give one side an experimental lift and groan as it only makes it an inch off the floor. “I’m not going to be a lot of help getting it up the stairs, though.”
Kellen props an elbow up on the top, and it thunks back down. “Oh, this isn’t one of the unclaimed pieces.”
I glance from him to the dresser. “What?”
“This one is mine.” He points over my shoulder. “The unclaimed items are over there.”
Following his direction, I find a sheet draped pile on the other side of the stairs. When I whisk away the cover, I stumble back in horror. “You can’t be serious.”
Kellen comes up behind me, amusement in his voice. “I told you she was a headache.”
I stare, open mouthed, at the fuchsia colored furniture. The dresser and nightstand bubble out at the sides and the spindly legs point inward and end on narrow spikes. Swirls of gold outline the frame, and crystal drawer pulls catch the flickering overhead lights and cast rainbow sparkles across the floor. They look like they came from a cartoon. A horrible cartoon created by people on drugs.
When I cautiously approach the dresser to pull out one of the narrow drawers, the entire thing tips forward, too lightweight and the narrow legs too close together to offer proper support.
Turning, I peek back at the first dresser. Sleek lines, sturdy construction, solid wood.
Kellen ducks into my line of sight, eyebrow raised. “Do you want to bargain for the other one?”
I meet his lightning blue eyes. “What do you want?”
“What do you have to offer?” He crowds close until sparks skip from his skin to mine, static electricity that makes my hair rise and my yoga pants cling to my legs.
Not for the first time, I notice how his energy calls to me in a way that Tobias’s and Emil’s don’t. While I crave theirs, Kellen’s hungers to be inside me. It dives past my stomach, hunting deeper for the ball of light that sits at my core, that life force that makes me a succubus. In all my years, no other energy has ever affected me in this way.
I lick ozone from the air and shiver. “Why does it do that?”
“Do what?” He steps closer, mesmerizing like a storm cloud ready to crash over me.
“This.” I wave my hand through the air between us, now thick with power.
At our first encounter, he pulled the energy from me. Something only succubi should be able to do. But when I took it back, it came eagerly, flooding through my body. Most energy resists at first, clinging to the life form it inhabits. But not his.
Lightning streaks across his pupils. “You’re made of passion and born in storms. We call to each other.”
I back away, unwilling to be overwhelmed by him, and knock against the dresser. It teeters back, ready to fall, and Kellen reaches past me to steady it, his body coming flush with mine. I find my face pressed into his throat, my nose filling with his scent.
My entire front tingles, and he gives a shaky sigh of relief. His cheek rests against the side of my head, his breath warm. “That feels so good.”
I remember he’d asked me to lay on top of him earlier. At the time, I thought he’d been asking for sex, but maybe he really did just want me to absorb some of his power.
Nose pressed to his throat, I mumble, “Why do you have so much built up? I drained you three days ago.”
“There’s a storm coming.” One hand curves over my lower back to pull me closer, and the hard bulge of his erection presses against my stomach.
His actions right now don’t feel sexual, though, which confuses me. “So the storm’s recharging you or something?”
“She’s wooing me.” His head lifts, and when I glance up, I find his eyes focused on the ceiling, as if he can see through the house to the sky beyond. “She’s small, but she wants to be bigger.”
Longing fills his voice, a deep, ingrained desire to answer the storm’s call. At the demon library, I saw images of the destruction that comes when he gives into the storms call. Cities wiped out through floods, homes swept up in hurricanes, wildfires spread through lightning.
My plans for the future don’t include relocating once again, so I wrap my arms around him, slip my arms beneath his shirt, and draw the power from his body into mine. He shudders within my hold, muscles tensing and relaxing, as if he wants to fight and forces himself to be still.
My wings shiver against my spin with the need to be free, to take
to the air and be among the clouds. I hold a tsunami in my arms, and my bones tell me that similar, smaller power sweeps toward the city, a ready supply to glut myself on.
But I know the call of a siren when I hear it. Destruction waits in the sky, a cruel mistress ready to rip me apart to feed herself. I shove the energy into my belly and Emil’s power, already there, curls around it, restraining it with an icy swiftness that leaves my legs shaky.
My arms drop to my sides, and Kellen moves away, neither of us willing to acknowledge what just happened.
I clear my throat. “So, I get the other dresser?”
He adjusts his pants, and one corner of his mouth tips up. “I don’t remember us agreeing to a price.”
“But—”
He taps his chin in thought. “Got any more tears stashed away?”
My hands fly to my hips. “That dresser isn’t worth a tear!”
“Well, that really depends on how much you want it.” He grins, eyes bright. “It’s a seller’s market right now.”
“I like the pink one just fine,” I grumble.
“Aww. Not even going to try to bargain me down?” He tsks under his breath. “We need to work on your demon skills.”
“My skills are just fine.”
“That’s debatable.”
Annoyed, I step to one side of the ugly dresser. “Get your muscled ass over here and help me carry this horrible thing up to my room.”
He straightens, entirely too happy. “You’ve been looking at my ass?”
I grip the edges and lift experimentally, almost knocking the piece of furniture over. “Hard not to when you walk around in your underwear.”
He lifts from his side, taking most of the weight, and stares at me over the top, face serious. “Your ass is nice, too.”
“Of course it is. I’m a succubus.” I sniff with disdain. “Now shut up, and start walking.”
“You want to go up first?” He takes a step to the side, and I stumble to stay on my feet.
I glance at the steep flight, with the uneven steps. No way I want to walk up those backward. “You’re buff, you go up first.”
“It’s easier if the taller person holds the bottom,” he points out, voice full of logic.