“Does anyone find the timing too suspicious to be a coincidence? That Sean’s return coincides with this attack?” Seven quietly proposed.
There was an uncomfortable collective twitch around the table at the mention of the incubus’s name.
“Sean had his problems, but I don’t think he would do something like this,” Riley defended. She recalled Liam’s face, broken and battered almost to being unrecognizable, and she shuddered.
“Are you still defending him?” James said, with an incredulous shake of his head. “Your loyalty really has no limits, Riley.”
Riley stared down at her untouched breakfast plate. She thought back to her relationship—if she could even call it that—after joining the cubare world. Riley had ended things after a few dates; their short time as a couple was awkward at best. They’d parted amicably and had remained friends in the decades that followed. Both had worked for Trusics in the early years, and Sean, like Riley, had quickly become a rising star in the corporation. It had been less than a decade ago, however, that Riley had been witness to his change. Sean had once sat at their brunch table, an important part of their close-knit group, but he’d become irritable, moody, volatile, and defensive. Not soon after that, he’d left and gone off the grid, only to resurface now. Even Riley had to admit the timing was suspect, but she had a difficult time believing that the brutality that Liam had endured had been the work of Sean.
James’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Madison clapped her hand on his forearm. “Is it about Liam? Is he dead?”
He looked over the brief message. “No. It’s from my sister,” he said, reading. “She wanted to make sure that we were all okay.”
Seven frowned. “It’s too bad Liam’s not conscious; he’d love all this attention.”
“Play nice, Sev,” Heather cautioned. “I know you don’t like the guy, but that’s no reason to be catty right now. It’s easy to get comfortable and think something like this could never happen to one of us, but we should all be a little more careful,” she spoke to everyone at the table. “Immortality can only keep you alive for so long.”
For some reason, Riley thought Heather’s gaze lingered on her a little longer than the others.
“I wonder if we’ll get another mandatory seminar,” Madison whispered at her plate. “I don’t like those.”
James and Seven could only offer a shrug in response. None of them knew what their employer would do.
• • •
Riley reshelved the book on energy extraction that Josh had procured for her. After brunch with her friends, she’d reread the text, hopeful to discover something, anything, that she might have skipped over the first time through. Self-preservation refused to allow her to return to the Red Sea Tavern or to call the number on the business card the woman with the Southern drawl had given her. But there had to be a way to extend her time in the realm. She just didn’t know what it was yet.
Besides the problem of energy, there was something else pressing on her mind. She grabbed her phone and pulled up the contact information. Unlike the cell number of most of her cubare friends, she didn’t have this number memorized.
“Wyatt?”
“Speaking,” the excubitor responded, formal as always.
“It’s Riley. Is this a good time?”
“Hey, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Did you hear about Liam Dunbar?”
“I did. Last I’d heard the doctors had put him in a coma.”
“Yeah, that’s the latest,” Riley confirmed. “Listen, I don’t want to offend you, but did the Custodes do this?”
“I have no idea,” Wyatt admitted. “Liam Dunbar is certainly at the top of our list of incubi we’d like to muzzle, but I’m not privy to any information regarding the attack.”
“Could you let me know if you hear anything?”
“Sure. Can I ask why the interest?”
Riley hesitated with the information. She hadn’t told anyone that she had been the one to find Liam’s body. “Regardless of how I feel about the guy, he’s still cubare.” She recalled Darren’s words at the bar. “If someone is attacking our community, we should be on alert.”
“I’ll ask around, but I can’t promise I’ll find anything. They hold their tongues with that kind of talk when I’m around.”
“Thanks, Wyatt. I appreciate any information you might find.”
Riley hung up and found the contact information for the second person with whom she needed to speak. She didn’t call Josh on the phone enough to have memorized his number either. He was a bit phone-a-phobic and preferred talking via text message or e-mail.
Riley spoke when he answered the call: “I need another favor.”
“More user profiles?” Josh guessed.
“No, not this time. By the way, thanks for getting that information for me so quickly.”
“Not a problem. Her history was buried pretty deep in the system, but I found it.”
“Is it possible to get a cubare profile?” Riley could think of no way to sugarcoat the question.
There was a noticeable pause on the other line. “That’s not allowed.”
“I know it’s not. And I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t really important. That mark you looked up for me—”
“EP1606707.” Josh’s ability to recall minute details was amazing but a little unsettling.
“Yes. You said she’d been visited once before—Sean Marshall—I need his files. Everything the company has on him.”
Josh’s hesitation was palpable. “Do I want to know why?”
“Definitely not. The less you know, the less I can get you in trouble.”
“If anyone found out I was poking around the personal files, I could get in a lot of trouble.”
Termination for a human at Trusics was more than the loss of a paycheck. It was the loss of immortality, and for many, it resulted in a kind of memory wipe to keep Trusics’s agenda a secret. Riley knew what she was asking Josh to risk, but she had no one else she could turn to about this. The parallel timing of the attack on Liam and Sean’s return was too much of a coincidence to not spike Riley’s concern. But before she could reach out to the disgraced incubus, she needed to know with whom she was really dealing. The man from her early memories as a cubare was not the same incubus who’d run away from friends and work.
“This favor sounds like it’ll cost you a year’s worth of pizza and soda.”
Riley stifled a laugh; humor didn’t seem appropriate.
“We’re doing some maintenance on our web servers for the next couple of days,” Josh said. “It shouldn’t affect your work, but while they’re busy with that fun little project, I’ll find your files in our employee database.”
A knock at her front door had Riley jumping out of her skin. “I have to go. But thank you for this. I mean it; I seriously owe you.”
The knocking continued and Riley hung up without saying goodbye. Could Trusics have her apartment bugged? she silently panicked, worried her subterfuge had finally caught up with her. She first looked out the peephole, not expecting any visitors, before opening the door.
A delivery person in his signature uniform stood in the hallway, clipboard in hand. “Riley Carter?”
“No. She lives across the hallway,” Riley lied. She wasn’t expecting a package and was instantly suspicious. What had happened to Liam made her even more cautious than usual. The deliveryman double-checked the address on the box he held. “Huh. Sorry about that. They wrote down the wrong unit number.”
“It’s fine.” Riley smiled amicably.
She shut the door after another brief smile but continued to look out the peephole as the deliveryman tried knocking on the door across the narrow hallway. She knew the woman who lived directly across from her would be at work. When no one responded, the man left the box on the welcome mat. Riley waited a few minutes, to be sure the delivery person had gone, before opening up her door to retrieve the mystery package.
/>
There was no return address, but the postmarking information indicated the box had been shipped from somewhere in Los Angeles. Her own name and address were carefully scrawled on the top of the box in black marker, but the handwriting was precise and unfamiliar. She pulled a pair of scissors out of the small table in the front foyer and sliced through the packing tape.
The scissors nearly fell from her hand when she realized what was inside. Six glass vials of uniform shape and size, each corked at its top, were carved into a thick protective foam. With shaking hands, Riley removed one of the glass bottles from its cubby. An orange smoke twisted and curled inside. The other containers were similar, but each held a different color of vapor. She mentally rattled off the colors and the energy contained within. Orange, green, blue, violet, pink, and red were all common colors in cubare interactions. Each was a reflection of how a human felt: excitement, compassion, care, warmth, love, and lust.
The only primary color missing was yellow, which she knew to be rare. Yellow energy represented mental activity, the power of ideas, psychic abilities, and clairsentience. It was the one color she’d never seen from a mark.
Riley dug in the box for some indication of who had sent the package. After a few moments of panic, she found the slip of paper. The same careful handwriting from the outside of the box stared back at her.
Thank you for your discretion with Liam the other night. I know it wasn’t you that spread the news of his condition. As a side note, don’t trust nosey cubare doctors to keep records confidential.
I don’t think any beer warrants a trip to that neighborhood, so I hope you’ll accept this as a small token of my appreciation.
The note was brief, but the unspoken sentiment was clear enough. Darren knew the true reason for her visit to the cubare hangout, but he wasn’t going to inform on her. His silence was gift enough. She picked up one of the vials, red energy swirling around inside. But this care package didn’t hurt, either.
• • •
Riley leaned against the kitchen sink and looked out the window at the backyard. Through the open windows she could hear the chatter of songbirds. The sunshine had returned. The hammock that had appeared during the previous dream swung back and forth under the direction of a brisk breeze.
Morgan’s smile was back, too. She had been waiting at the front door instead of her usual perch in the kitchen when Riley had first arrived. Riley didn’t want to ruin her good mood with the multiple worries that weighed heavily on her mind. She was anxious about using Darren’s energy, upset about the attack on Liam, and annoyed with the passage of time. Her discomfort clung to her like a second skin.
“Rough day at the office, Succubus?”
Riley turned from the window. “Huh?”
Morgan folded her arms across her chest. A curious smile crossed her features. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you frowning causes premature wrinkles?”
Wrinkles were one of many things she didn’t have to worry about as she got older. “No. But I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”
“Do you have a mom?” Morgan’s face scrunched up as the words came out. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not appropriate to ask. I probably should have started off with a hi.”
“It’s fine,” Riley assured her. “I did have a mom. But she passed away many years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It happens. Everyone I knew from when I was still a human is dead.” She didn’t want to rehash that information. With the exception of Wyatt and Amber, it was one of the reasons she avoided friendships with humans. Not only was there the issue of never being able to reveal her true nature to them, but unlike herself, they grew older and died.
“I didn’t realize you hadn’t always been a succubus. I guess I assumed you all hatched or something.”
“Demon spawn, right?”
Morgan smiled apologetically, and Riley’s chest involuntarily tightened at the endearing look. She wasn’t supposed to like her marks this much. She owed them her survival, but that didn’t mean she was supposed to crave these moments.
“I started out human. Exactly seventy years ago,” Riley revealed.
“You look pretty good for an old lady.” Morgan smiled softly.
“Thanks.” Riley found herself returning the gesture. “It’s actually my birthday today.”
“It is? You should have told me it was coming up, I would have baked a cake or something.” Morgan opened the refrigerator, but it was bare except for an empty ice cube tray. She shut the door with a frown. “But apparently there’s no food in this house.”
“That’s okay. I don’t really need food. It’s mostly for show.”
“If it’s your birthday, why are you in my dream?” Morgan’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Shouldn’t you take the day off?”
Riley leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Would it be too much of a line if I said there’s nowhere else I’d rather be today?”
“Yes.” Morgan smirked. “So what’s the real reason you’re here?”
“My friends are all working tonight.” Riley shrugged. “I figured I might as well, too.”
“All work and no play.” Morgan clucked her tongue. “Sounds awfully boring.”
“Well technically my work is play.”
“I think you’re in the wrong dream if you’re looking for that.”
Riley arched an eyebrow. “So I take it sex is still off the table.”
Morgan’s features troubled, and the succubus wondered if her words registered with the other woman. “How much longer do we have together?”
“Today?” Riley glanced at her watch. “That depends. How long do you want me here?”
“No, I mean, until you have to leave for good. You mentioned in the beginning that you get six months?”
Riley nodded. “It’s the rules. We’re only allowed so many contact hours to keep you guys from becoming suspicious. You and I still have until January.”
“And there’s no way around that?”
Riley felt an upward tug at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re actually starting to enjoy our time together?”
Morgan’s brow furrowed. “I’m curious. Me and my big brain, you know.”
“Uh huh.” Riley didn’t believe the excuse, but she was reluctant to trust that Morgan might actually want to extend their time together. There were already too many blurred lines with this mark without yet another complication. “The only other way I could visit you is if you told me your full name,” she noted. “Otherwise I’m forced to stick to the six-month rule.”
“If I’m lucid, shouldn’t the rules not apply to me?” Morgan pointed out.
“You’re special, Morgan.” Riley paused and lowered her voice. “But not even you are above the rules.”
Morgan pursed her lips. “Who makes your rules? I’d like to discuss something with them.”
Riley shrugged and laughed. “I have no idea.”
“Do you want to go in the hammock again?” Morgan proposed. She stood up on tiptoes to peer out the back window. “It looks like another nice day.”
Riley’s gaze flicked first to Morgan’s backside and then to the canvas messenger bag she’d brought into the dream with her. It hung off the back of a kitchen chair. At the bottom of the bag was a box that contained one bottle of extracted energy from Darren’s care package. She was keeping careful attention to the time ticking down on her watch, and she didn’t want too much distance between herself and the bag.
She’d never taken energy in the dream realm that didn’t come directly from a mark. In theory, the countdown on her watch would start over again once she ingested the energy, and she’d get to stay in the dream without being forced out.
“How about the living room?” Riley suggested.
“Anything you want, Birthday Girl.”
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” Riley teased back.
Morgan rolled her eyes and left the kitchen for the front
of the house. “You seem off today,” she called over her shoulder.
Riley followed her down the hallway. “In what way?”
“You’re a lot flirtier,” Morgan said. “It’s like your mind keeps wandering and when I catch you, you revert back to the failed seductress.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Riley defended as she flopped down on the living room couch. She tried to not let her ego bruise from the reminder that Morgan continued to deflect her advances. Even her lingerie had gone unappreciated.
Morgan sat beside her, but with less petulant movements. “Like what?”
“An acquaintance of mine was attacked a few nights ago, and I was the one who found him.” Riley picked at a loose thread on Morgan’s couch. “He doesn’t have a lot of friends in the cubare community, but I can’t imagine why anyone would want him dead.”
Morgan’s eyes were wide. “He was killed?”
“Close. He’s in a coma.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Even when you hate all incubi?”
Morgan shrugged and her shoulders sagged. “Maybe you’re starting to grow on me.”
“Awesome,” Riley deadpanned. “I’ve been upgraded from a weed to fungus.”
Morgan’s features were schooled. “Are you in danger?”
“Me? No. I’ll be fine.”
Since she’d become a succubus, Riley had never worried about her mortality. She would never age, but that didn’t mean she was invincible. She could still get a cold and other viral diseases, but they never lasted long. Until the attack on Liam, she hadn’t thought about acts of random violence or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn’t have proof, but something about Liam’s attack felt anything but random.
“If you’re not concerned about your safety, then what are you worried about?”
Riley hesitated. The violence against Liam was only the tip of her concerns lately.
“Talk to me,” Morgan urged. “I’m good at this stuff; you know I’m getting my doctorate in psychology.”
“I know. But I’m not really into sitting on a couch and telling a stranger my problems.”
Drained: The Lucid Page 19