“Excuse me,” she announced. “Excuse me.” The blended ice coffee in one hand precariously sloshed around inside its travel cup, threatening to spill out on the innocent customers.
Madison paused her grand entrance at a table occupied by a younger couple. “Why hello there, cutie,” she purred at the seated man.
From their nearby table, Heather chuckled. “Here comes trouble,” she murmured lowly.
“Excuse me,” the woman voiced. “That’s my husband.”
“Uh huh…” Madison stated, clearly not paying attention. She winked at the stunned man. “I’ll see you later,” she cooed.
Riley watched Madison’s antics and absentmindedly took a bite from a piece of Heather’s toast.
Upon seeing her friend at the table, Madison’s face lit up. “Riley!” she cried out, not caring who stared. “I thought you were dead!” She swooped down upon the table of close-knit friends. “Seriously, late is your time.”
Madison was at the table before Riley could react. The larger-than-life woman stooped to give her an engulfing hug. She didn’t have time to stand up to greet her friend, so Riley went in for an awkward embrace. Madison’s oversized earrings knocked her in the face and nearly became tangled in her hair. The perky woman sat down heavily in an open seat close to Riley. She threw her too-large purse on the table, nearly knocking over the salt and pepper shakers at the center.
“Hey, Mad Hatter,” Riley greeted the animated woman. “Don’t tell me you’ve been inside waiting for that coffee this entire time.” She eyed the cup suspiciously as Madison sipped from the black straw. No beverage at the café was worth the wait. Madison stopped drinking long enough to give a nod before immediately returning the straw to her red, painted lips. Ever since Riley had met her jubilant friend decades ago, she could never contain a smile while being in her company. From her shy smirks and chuckles, to her antics that had them falling to the ground laughing as they clutched at their stomachs, Madison was a welcomed light in their group.
It wasn’t long before their waitress returned, placing a steaming plate before Riley. She was careful to thank the waitress without making eye contact this time around, opting to speak at her plate instead. She wanted to eat, rather than be mercilessly teased or have to listen to a lecture on the validity of her relationship with Amber.
After taking a few bites, Riley broke the comfortable silence that had settled amongst the group. It wasn’t that she minded the quiet, but it had been a few days since she had seen this many of her friends in the same place at the same time. Schedules were always being juggled in their line of work, especially with their employer.
Swallowing a mouthful of food, Riley looked up from her plate to speak. “So, my Mr. Ten is starting to annoy me.”
“Wait,” Madison interrupted, yanking the straw out from her mouth. The poor tube of plastic was mutilated from her chewing. “Did your last job take that long? Geesh, enjoy yourself much?” Her blue eyes bulged in disbelief.
Heather shook her head, mildly annoyed. “No, Maddie. She means her ten o’clock morning appointment. It’s why she’s always late to brunch.”
Madison seemed to have lost interest in the conversation and slurped from her iced caffeinated drink. “Oh … no fun.”
“You’re telling me,” Riley grumbled. “He’s just so random in his sleeping pattern. And I’m using the word ‘pattern’ loosely here.”
“Is he honestly that bad?” Heather quirked an eyebrow.
“No, but I hate that his REM cycle only comes after ten o’clock.” Riley sighed. “He’s a sporadic sleeper so everything is just off.”
Heather patted Riley’s hand. “You can change him out soon,” she offered sympathetically. “Right?” Riley nodded in response. She would be replacing him soon.
From across the bustling street, the loud rumbling of an exotic car could be heard as it skidded into an open parking space. Even patrons sitting inside the café could probably hear the monster of a car. The overpriced toy had effectively drowned out all their voices. Eyes rolled and mouths gawked, while some of the regulars managed to ignore the noise. The owner of the bright, yellow European sports car was Liam Dunbar. Known as the brat playboy among the members of their community, Liam’s company had come into a substantially large amount of funding about two years ago. That was when the financial corporation of Clay & Dunbar had changed for the worse. The group of incubi had become reckless in their behavior and had begun to draw too much attention to themselves. It was an unstated rule that cubare remain out of the limelight, but the younger of the Dunbar brothers had a talent for drawing crowds that threatened to expose them all.
Seven could only glare at the public display of debauchery. He practically snarled at the sight. It was always the same reaction when anyone from Trusics’s competing company was in their presence. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from Liam, not even to blink. The younger of the two Dunbar brothers wore vintage aviators and a tailored vest and slacks. Attached to his arms were two beautiful women, each carrying her own weight in gold earrings, necklaces, and diamond rings. Between his flirtatious remarks and the women’s unnerving need to laugh at his every word, even the most patient of patrons were beginning to twitch. Luckily for the customers seated on the front patio, Liam and his party were led to seating inside of the café.
“I reckon the bloke thinks he’s king of all incubi,” Seven said, his mouth hidden behind his cup. “He’s not even head of the company. Careless brat that—”
“You know, green isn’t your color.” Riley smiled before taking another bite of toast. She winked at her cross friend. “But if you’re jealous, you should apply at C&D.”
Seven’s face remained stoic, and his tanned jaw went rigid. The discussion of leaving their mutual employer had come up a number of times over the decades. However, none of them had ever seriously contemplated joining a different company. Their employer treated them well and provided a means to a comfortable life. But Riley knew that Seven was often jealous over the freedom the competition exhibited. It would be hard to entirely ignore the appeal of a job with fewer rules. “No, thanks. I think I’ll stay where I am.” He continued to sip from his cup, finally able to peel his eyes away from the direction of Liam and his lady friends. “Away from the limelight.”
James reached over to ruffle his friend’s bedhead hairstyle. The friendly gesture caused Seven to yank away like a cat in response to bathwater. He had to work to get his hair perfect. As he had stated time and time again, intentional messiness didn’t come without effort. After a few shoves were exchanged, both men resettled into their seats.
Riley couldn’t help but ponder their friendship. They were so different that, at times, it was hard to believe they were best friends. Physical differences aside, their personalities were worlds apart. At a surface level, James had a full head of dirty blond hair, a lean build, and wore clothes that made him look ready for a spontaneous round of golf or schmoozing at the local country club. But he was the man that little girls dreamed their Prince Charming would be. He would ride in on a white horse, in gleaming armor, flash a brilliant smile, and hearts would flutter—a true gentleman. This was the man you’d proudly introduce to your parents.
Seven, however, was not that man. An Australian native, he was the most recent addition to their intimate group. With his Chinese lineage and Aussie accent, Seven effortlessly charmed hordes of women while at clubs or bars. His short black hair was a contrast to James’s golden mane, and he had a larger build than the other men in their group, or at least it showed better through his fitted shirts and designer jeans. But Seven was a man with a wandering eye, and relationships gave him the equivalent of an allergic reaction. When it came to his sexual conquests, he was a revolving door.
“Speaking of limelight, have you guys seen the latest wave of rumors about work?” James chimed in, his eyes glued to his phone. “Rumors, rumors, rumors.”
“What’s new?” Madison rolled her eyes at the conspiracy
theories that had always plagued them.
Although some of them had been succubi or incubi for far longer, everyone in the group worked for Trusics, a privately owned and funded company; a business known among their kind as a cubare run and friendly operation. Originally created as a front for their more supernatural endeavors, Trusics had turned into a legitimate business with the mission to provide what the human public demanded—dating and porn websites.
User profiles created with the intention of finding a first date or adult entertainment were culled to provide background information and preferences to be used in the realm. It provided Trusics employees with a database of millions who agreed to a realm-consenting stipulation hidden in all of the user terms and conditions.
“Well, with the blogs these days, everyone’s a journalist,” James remarked. His face soured. Having each been alive during the golden era of newspapers, they could remember the days when journalism had been a respectable field that placed personal reputations at stake; one poorly researched article could spoil an entire career.
James’s fingers swiped in all directions on his phone. “Look. Here’s one that says we’re involved with sex trafficking. The absurdity of that makes me want to …” His face crumpled with frustration.
“Well, we do—” Seven began.
“No.” James interrupted his friend. He banged his fist lightly on the table but with enough force that their water glasses shuddered. “That’s not what we are and don’t you try to make that argument. Sex trafficking is a despicable thing humans did to themselves.”
The table settled into a tense silence as everyone continued to finish their food and drinks. Eye contact was avoided and utensils scraped against emptying plates.
Taking a glance at her watch, Riley nearly choked on her food when she saw the time. She was going to be late for her meeting at the office. “Shit. Does anyone need anything from work?” Not waiting for a real answer, she slammed back the rest of her coffee and cringed at the cooled beverage’s taste. She snatched her purse from behind her metal seat and tossed a one hundred dollar bill on the table. After all, she had lost the bet. She was the last one to make it to brunch.
“Keep the money,” said Seven. He eyed the paper bill. “We all know you could have been on time if you had manipulated the realm for it.”
Riley quirked her lips. “Now why would I waste my precious energy on strenuous things like that? I’d rather pay for your food.”
Seven chuckled and shook his head. If there was one thing each member of the group could say about Riley, it would be that she had her priorities about her work. And being efficient with the energy used and gained was the only way to get to the top.
“I’ll text you later.” Bending over, Riley gave Heather a small peck on the cheek as she waved at everyone else.
Before exiting the café, she snuck in a quick glance, hopeful to spot Amber before she had to leave. But with no girlfriend in sight, Riley rushed through the gate’s side exit.
CHAPTER TWO
Riley strode up to the large corporate building, the heels of her boots clicking on the sidewalk. Looking up at the thirty-story, glass construction would give anyone a stiff neck. She slid her sunglasses up her forehead as she walked out of the Los Angeles sunshine and through the main entrance. The vaulted beams and floor-to-ceiling glass walls made each of Riley’s booted steps echo hollowly as she walked past the front help desk.
The lobby was a vast, white, and nearly empty space. It was clinical and generic and in the exact layout as Trusics’s six other global headquarters. The symmetry was purposeful, helping to cut down on the agents’ transition period from one location to another. Succubi and incubi visibly remained the same age provided they fed regularly on the sexual energy of a human partner. To avoid unwanted suspicions, Trusics required agents to relocate every six years. This year marked Riley and her friends’ third year in the Los Angeles office. At the end of their term they would have to choose a new city to call home.
A series of flatscreens lined the walls of the front lobby, each playing a different company commercial. An attractive woman in an immaculately tailored suit filled one of the television screens. Riley had seen the commercials so many times that she could practically recite the woman’s greeting verbatim: “Welcome to the Trusics Network, a place where you’ll find your dream match. If you have yet to sign up, the partner of your dreams is only a click away.”
The public face of Trusics bordered between the romantic and the sensational. They’d made their mark in the adult entertainment industry, balancing an ambitious business portfolio that included everything from dating websites to subscription-based pornographic web material. They openly advertised the x-rated side of their multimillion dollar enterprise with the same candor and professionalism as the dating sites. With millions of views a day and countless new members each month, Trusics had grown from a modest data-mining enterprise in the 1990s to a global corporation.
Riley reached the building’s security guards who stood behind the lobby’s second help desk. She routinely flashed her employee ID although she knew for a fact that she was recognized even without the laminated badge. Trusics’s LA branch employed nearly 550 individuals, but only about half of that number were trained succubi and incubi with access to the dream realm. The remaining employees were human, but they’d traded their silence about the existence of the supernatural for the guarantee of immortality. They maintained the public face of Trusics’s global empire—human resources, accounting, customer service, marketing and sales—all the pieces necessary for the day-to-day survival of the company.
Riley avoided the elevator and began the long hike to the twenty-third floor. Her employee status as an active agent gave her access to most floors in the building, save those reserved for the Los Angeles Branch Director, Niall Price, and the office of the company’s CEO, Robert Thaser, who bounced from one location to the next depending on corporate needs.
The twenty-third floor was a veritable maze of administrative desks and permanent offices. Riley waved hello to a few familiar faces who returned the pleasantries. She herself had an office on the twenty-first floor, but she rarely visited unless she had to file paperwork about an unorthodox mark or if the internet was down at her apartment and she needed to access the company database.
Generally, she avoided that floor because it creeped her out; all of the cubare offices were bundled together on five levels, giving those floors a ghost-town aura.
“Riley. Glad I caught you.” Josh, the resident tech-geek, popped out of the copy room. “Just wanted to give you a heads up. Think raise.”
Riley paused briefly and arched an eyebrow. She was surprised to see her friend on the higher level. As a member of the web team and not an active agent like herself, his desk was located miles below. “Really?”
The tall man with moppy brown hair shrugged. There was a childlike innocence to his lopsided smile. “That’s what my inside sources are saying.”
“Right. Because you totally have those.” A soft laugh escaped her lips.
Josh’s shoulders slumped, caught in the thinly veiled lie. “Okay, you got me.” He fell into step with Riley who continued to walk down the corridor. “I overheard when I was taking a leak.” She made a face at the unnecessary bit of information.
“Did you take the stairs again?”
Riley’s eyebrows knit together. “Yes. Why?”
“In those heels?” he said, pointing at her less than sensible boots.
“What are you doing up here anyway?” Riley deflected. “I thought you computer types liked to hang out in the dungeon.”
Josh scowled. “Because someone still thinks I’m copier tech support.” He shot a glare over his shoulder at no one in particular.
Riley shook her head as she maneuvered around bustling workers darting in and out of open rooms. It was impossible not to notice how lively everyone was. The office was normally a peaceful environment, a laid-back workplace that would
occasionally indulge in team-building games like ultimate Frisbee and paintball. But there was nothing carefree about the scene that played before her. People ran in all directions and the earsplitting sound of shrill, ringing phones echoed throughout the floor.
“So, what’s going on?” Riley paused to gesture at the scene. Her hands fell to perch at her hips. “Everyone looks like chickens with their heads cut off.”
“Yeah, PR and tech are having one hell of a time getting rid of the last set of rumors.” Josh’s hand settled on the back of his neck and he kneaded at the muscles. “You would think anonymous writers wouldn’t have as much clout, but in the twenty-first century, they are the cool shepherds to the many sheep.”
Riley took one last glance at the headache before continuing to her destination. Josh struggled to keep up with her pace. While she took effortless strides, practically gliding across the carpeting, he had to make an effort to puppeteer his feet.
Josh broke the brief silence. “Anyway, when you have time, come over to my house. I got a special video game I want you to try.”
Riley’s face broke into a broad grin. “Don’t tell me your baby project is done?”
“Not quite.” Josh frowned. “It’s still in the early stages of alpha testing.”
“Well, that’s still a milestone,” Riley encouraged. Her lips soon pursed. “You’re using me to test for bugs, aren’t you?”
Josh’s dopey grin slipped easily into place. He was caught like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. As a nervous habit, he jammed both of his hands into the front pockets of his oversized slacks, which caused him to walk funny. Josh was living proof that, with age, some people were just elongated reflections of a former child self.
Riley laughed. “I’ll call you sometime, okay?”
Upon hearing what he wanted to hear, Josh stopped walking to return back to his department. “Okay!” he agreed. “Catch you later.” He scampered away as quickly as he had appeared.
Drained: The Lucid Page 2