by Jill Myles
I felt immensely relieved, like a huge itch had been scratched. Maybe the name was appropriate, after all. “Remy—is that the girl out there?”
I could hear his clothing rustle in the dark booth as he straightened his clothes. “Yes,” he said. “I wanted you to meet her—she’s the only other succubus I know.”
“She’s a succubus?” I was surprised. “Really?”
He laughed. “You sound relieved. Did you think she was my girlfriend?”
If I could have found his arm in the darkness, I would have socked it a good one. “Don’t laugh at me.” I threw the rest of my clothes on and hoped like mad that the booth didn’t smell too much like sex. “Are you decent yet?”
“Yes.” He sounded amused.
“Good.” I slammed the door open and stomped out, trying to straighten my hair. I had a rat’s nest on the back of my head from the ride against the wall; I was lucky I didn’t have splinters in my you-know-what.
Remy sat quietly in the back of the cathedral, looking angelic and innocent. She smiled at the sight of us and pulled a pair of earbuds out of her ears. “Looks like we’re back to normal now, I see?” She pulled out a compact from her purse and handed it to me. “Take a look.”
I looked. My cheeks were flushed with high color and my forehead shone with a hint of sweat. I even spotted a hickey on my neck. “Right,” I said, blushing. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”
“Your eyes aren’t blue anymore. That means the Itch is gone for now.”
Sure enough, pale silver eyes stared back at me in the mirror. “Wow. You’re right. The two are connected?”
Remy nodded. “The bluer your eyes are, the closer you are to feeding.” Her pale blue eyes sparkled. “I’m due tomorrow, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.” A thought occurred to me. “So, uh, do you get the Itch pretty often? As an, um, succubus?” The thought that I was one took a little getting used to, but the wave of abject horniness was gone and now I could think a bit more reasonably. Since being completely sex starved and having a crazy libido were not normally part of my day, I assumed that was part of the kit and caboodle.
“About once a week,” she said. “We’re stuck between the two races. Hasn’t Noah explained to you? The Fallen—that’s the Serim, Noah’s kind—they crave sex as part of their curse. The Serim must bring pleasure to their partner—not themselves—or they get as wild as we do. They’re affected about once a month, usually near a full moon. Vamps must feed more frequently, and feed on blood. We’re some sort of bizarre blend in the middle, since we come from both.” She offered me a hairbrush without batting an eyelash. “We have the addiction to sex, like the angels—except ours is a more selfish version—and we have the feeding frenzy of vampires.”
“You’re kidding me.” I gaped at her. “I’m going to turn into a raving nymphomaniac because of angels and vampires?”
“It’s a really long story, and one better told over breakfast.” Remy cast a glare at Noah. “I can’t believe you didn’t explain any of this to her before. What were you thinking?”
It was Noah’s turn to look embarrassed. He tugged at his collar, straightening it, and I was secretly delighted to notice the sheen of sweat on his skin, sweat that I had caused. “She wasn’t listening the last time we talked.”
That was true; I hadn’t listened to a word he was saying. “Breakfast sounds good to me,” I said.
Noah glanced down at his watch. “I’m afraid I can’t go with you. I have to meet someone.”
Of all the embarrassing things, I felt tears prick my eyes. “You’re leaving me? Now? But we just got here.” He’d just screwed my brains out in the confessional and now was too busy to stick around? I swallowed past the humiliated knot in my throat.
He shook his head at me and gave my forehead a gentle kiss, his eyes bleached silver once more. “I wish I could stay.” His eyes stared into mine for a moment, his thumb caressing my cheek. “I’ll catch up with both of you tomorrow. Remy will take good care of you.”
“Promise?” Lord, I sounded needy.
Remy rolled her eyes at the two of us and grabbed me by the arm. “Save the foreplay for sex. We’ve got a lot to do, and I don’t feel like hanging around here and waiting for one of the you-know-who to find her.” She pointed at the ceiling and gave Noah a pointed look.
“One of what?” I stared up at the ceiling. “Roofers?”
This time, two snorts of laughter met my ears. “Come on.” Remy tugged at my arm. “Let’s get you something to eat. We can catch up with Noah some other time.”
“But …” I protested as she dragged me toward the thick wooden doors. I felt odd leaving the man I had just waited hours for. “I thought …” Hell, I didn’t know what I thought anymore. I just felt abandoned, used.
At least I did until Remy flashed me a brilliant white smile. “I’ve waited forever to have another Suck around. This is going to be so much fun!”
“Excuse me?”
She blew a kiss at Noah, who was pulling out a cell phone. “Suck, succubus, whatever you want to call it. I was the only one in New City before, and I’m glad that you’re here now.” She flashed me a wicked, exotic grin. “We’re going to paint this town red.”
“Great,” I echoed unenthusiastically, sparing a longing look back at Noah. He was whispering into his phone and a spurt of irritation flared through me. If I felt used, it was because he was acting like I was some sort of discarded piece of trash.
Remy was chatting my ear off as we left the cathedral. “First things first, girl. We have got to get you some serious clothes. You look like a bag lady.”
“Don’t we have more pressing matters to worry about?”
Remy gave me an incredulous look. “Nothing’s more important than appearances, sweetheart. Bite your tongue.”
Maybe this was Hell, after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Remy leaned against her car window and peered at the drive-thru menu. “You want a burger or a shake or something?”
I shook my head, feeling too self-conscious to think about food. Much. “No thanks.”
“I need a triple cheeseburger with fries,” Remy shouted at the speaker box. “Extra mayo, extra cheese, and a chocolate shake. Oh, and a side order of chicken nuggets. And an apple pie.” She looked over and grinned at me. “A snack.”
Good lord.
We rolled around to the front of the drive-thru and Remy handed her money over, taking the bags of food back from the pimply boy at the window. “So, did Noah tell you anything? I want to make sure I’m not recapping anything you’ve already heard.”
“He said he was an angel, and that I got bit by a vampire, but he skipped a few details,” I said dryly.
Remy turned a corner, sipping her shake, and pulled into an empty parking lot. “Okay, then I’ll start from the beginning. Have you ever heard of Enoch?”
My mouth watered as I watched her take a huge bite of her burger. It looked delicious. I hoped my stomach wouldn’t growl and embarrass me. “Enoch … isn’t he in the Bible?”
“He’s in Genesis, but the rest isn’t included anymore. Lost book of the Bible, I believe. Anyhow, if you read the Book of Enoch, it explains how the angels fell from Heaven.” She took another enormous bite of her burger.
“It does? I didn’t know that.”
She nodded, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Yep, they fell in love with mortal women and had sex with them. God said that was a big no-no and told ’em to stop, but they didn’t, so he cast them out. When the Big Cheese speaks, it’s generally a good idea to listen,” she intoned sagely, then ruined it by cramming some fries into her mouth. “Sure you don’t want any?”
I shook my head. “So Noah’s been cast out from Heaven?”
“Him and a few thousand other guys, yeah. Gabriel and the rest that stayed behind were really angry, too, so they cursed the Serim. Since they were so hot for female flesh, they were cursed to crave it and
to indulge themselves every full moon. Not so bad, you would think—but then the Archangels went and killed all their women and they were left with nothing. It’s a sad story, really. Some of the Serim turned to evil as a result, and that’s why we have vampires. They wanted their wings back, no matter the cost. Lucifer was willing to give them wings, but they had to sell their souls. At least, that’s the rumor. All you need to remember is that the Serim can only go out in the daytime, and the vamps can only go out at night. That’s what happens when you mess with the big guns.”
My eyes widened. “Jeezus, that’s a terrible story. All of their loved ones died?”
She shrugged. “Die now, die later; they’re all still screwed. All the women were mortal, so it’s not like they were going to have a really long life together. French fry?”
Disgusted by her callous attitude, I turned and stared out the window, hoping that the conversation would steer to more pleasant matters.
“You’re not much of a talker,” she complained. When I offered no rebuttal, she gave up and started the car again, the burger clutched against the steering wheel. “Come on, then. Let’s go to the mall!”
I stared up at the neon sign over the mall entrance with trepidation and wondered for the ninth time why I was heading to a shopping mecca with a supermodel. I must be sick.
Remy pulled into the parking lot in her tiny BMW and beamed at me. “Ready for some fun?”
I was actually ready for a bite to eat, but since I’d declined to eat at our pit stop, it seemed silly to ask for food now.
Ignoring my rumbling stomach, I asked, “What sort of fun are we going to have, exactly?”
“We’re going shopping, of course.” She got out of the car and moved around to my side, since I hadn’t budged.
I rolled down my window a crack and peered up at her. “It’s been a weird couple of days; I just had sex in a church not long ago; I haven’t slept in two days. Not to mention my job’s probably wondering where I’m at.”
I was trying not to think about work. Julianna would be furious that I had another unexcused absence. “I’m not exactly having a great streak here. Can we do this some other time?”
Undeterred, Remy opened my door and waited for me to get out. “That’s the beauty of a twenty-four-hour mall, my friend. All shopping, all the time, and enough time to get it all in. If you smell bad, we can stop by a bathroom first and you can mop up anything that Noah left behind.”
Ouch. She had a potty mouth. I flinched and got out of the car, albeit very reluctantly. “I’m really tired,” I tried.
“Horseshit,” Remy announced in a singsong voice. “We don’t get tired.”
“We don’t?”
She shook her head and dragged me by the arm toward the glass double doors in the distance. “Sucks don’t need to sleep. Vamps do, Serim do, but we don’t sleep a wink. It’s odd at first, but you get used to it.”
I was horrified. “We don’t sleep? At all?”
“I haven’t slept a wink in four hundred years.”
This was a nightmare of vast proportions. I loved sleeping. There’s nothing better than diving under the sheets and snuggling into some dreams of yourself and your favorite actor.
“This just keeps getting worse and worse,” I complained as we stepped into the brightly lit mall. I squinted at the light and turned to look at Remy. “Anything else you want to tell me? Do I turn into a hooker at the full moon? Should I avoid people with garlic around their necks? Or—wait—since we’re succubuses, should we avoid people with birth control?”
Remy giggled at my ranting. “You’re quite the funny girl, you know that? I’m so glad you’re one of us.” She patted my hand and threaded my arm through hers as if we’d been best friends since grade school. “Like I said, I’ve been the only Suck in New City for quite some time, so it does get a bit lonely.”
She’d avoided my question, but I decided not to press the issue. If she was laughing at my concerns, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. “So why don’t you move, if you don’t like New City?”
She shook her head. “Can’t. My masters are here. Both of ’em. So here I stay.”
I eyed the Gap with longing as she steered me away from it, an expression of distaste on her striking features. I hitched my sweatpants up around my waist again. “Masters? Kind of like an I-Dream-of-Jeannie thing?” I wasn’t too keen on that idea. “I’m not real good with being all submissive and stuff.”
Remy shrugged and led me toward Frederick’s of Hollywood, which sank my spirits almost as much as her next words. “It’s just the roll of the dice, I’m afraid. Since you were created by a vampire and a Serim, you have to answer to both.” She gave me an odd look. “Didn’t you notice that you couldn’t contradict anything that Noah told you?”
I had noticed that. My spirits plummeted. “I have to do everything he tells me to?” Then visions of handcuffs and kinky sex games rolled through my mind, and sweat beaded on my forehead.
“’Fraid so, but you’re lucky. Noah’s a good guy. He won’t abuse you or anything.”
“And the other guy? The vampire?”
“Who can say?”
At my stricken look, she patted my hand. “Don’t worry. If the vamp turns out to be an unsavory sort, you just avoid him. He can’t tell you what to do if he can’t find you, right?”
“Right,” I echoed. “Is that what you do? Avoid yours?”
She shrugged and began to flip through a rack of clothing in the back of the store. Frederick’s of Hollywood was crammed full of lacy undergarments in all shades of red, pink, and black, and I’d never noticed that they carried clothing, too. I’d never been shopping in here before—no sense in sticking a bikini on a sausage.
The store was empty this early in the day, except for one yawning salesgirl who flipped through a magazine at the counter, Jamba Juice in hand.
“Sometimes I avoid them,” Remy was saying, pulling out a bright blue top with some fuzzy crap around the collar.
I had to think back to what she meant. Oh yes, masters.
“Most of the time, though, we just have an understanding.” She held the top against my chest and nodded. “You should definitely dress in brighter colors. Gray is so blah. And sweats? Burn them, girl. Only fat slobs wear sweats.”
I flinched at that and tried to hand the fluffy top back to her. “You’re not going to find anything in my size here, Remy. We should go somewhere else.” This was going to be downright humiliating, once she realized I was one of the fat, sweats-wearing slobs.
Remy just started piling miniskirts and slinky bodysuits into my arms. “You’re wrong. I’m a pretty good judge of flesh.” She winked at me. “And you’re a size six, I’d say.”
“Uh, you meant to put a one in front of that number, didn’t you?” Okay, so I was closer to a 14, but I could border into unfriendly territory during certain times of the month.
“Nope.” She shoved me toward the dressing room. “Go try this stuff on. If you’re going out with me tomorrow, you have to dress appropriately.”
“I’m going out with you tomorrow?” Who the heck agreed to that one?
“Don’t try to change the subject. Get dressed.” She flung a few hangers of lacy panties at me and ignored my question. “What bra size are you?”
“Remy—” I began.
She cut me off. “Do you like these panties?” They were crotchless.
I cringed. “You want me to try on underpants?”
“No, dummy. Just put on one pair and we’ll buy the rest.” She snorted and tossed more undergarments my way. “Rube.”
“Remy!” I repeated, standing there clutching my pants around my waist. “I’m not trying these on.”
Remy rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’m going to have to do everything for you. You look pretty pathetic right now, you know that?” She turned away and waved to the salesgirl. “Excuse me, but my friend here needs to be measured for a bra. Her tits are overflowing.”
Her vo
ice was loud enough to carry into the mall. I wanted to die right then and there. Instead, I slammed the dressing room door shut and wondered if there was a way to escape before she forced me to try the clothes on.
There was a hesitant knock at the door. “Um, miss? I need to measure you for a bra.” There was some whispering on the other side, and the salesgirl paused, then added, “Your friend says I have to, or she’s going to bring Noah back.”
Visions of having mad sex in a dressing room crowded through my mind. Horrified at the thought, I edged the door open a crack, glaring at Remy. “You don’t play fair.”
“I know.” She grinned.
I took my sweatshirt off and allowed the girl to measure me, my eyes shut so I couldn’t see disgust cross her face as she saw my unsightly flab exposed to the world.
“34 double-D” the salesgirl announced, then exited the room.
“Huh?”
Remy snorted and shut the door, leaving me alone with the mirror. “I’ll give you a minute to dress.”
I stood there in dumbfounded surprise until a bra smacked me in the forehead. Another flew over the door, and then another, a veritable rainbow of bras—all 34DD.
I picked one up and stared at it in shock. “This is a mistake, Remy. I’m a B. I have been since puberty.”
“Not anymore,” she called out cheerfully. “Sucks have a few perks, one of which is being the object of every man’s fantasy. Which comes with nice boobs, I might add.”
I’ll say. I was staring at the mirror in shock at my naked chest. Speaking of perks. They were perky, all right. We’re talking plastic-surgery bounce and fullness, but without the fakeness. Not a stretch mark, not a flaw, not even a hint of sag.
My waist was amazing, too, curving in more than I’d thought possible. I was shocked I even had a waist. I blinked and poked the mirror, wondering if it was a trick of the light. When I passed my hand in front of it several times and it looked normal, I began examining the rest of my body with delight.
The face was the first to hit scrutiny. It didn’t look that different, except a bit more sensual. My brows were perfect, my lips full and pink, and my eyes were a striking shade of silver. My hair looked like something out of a Pantene commercial, shiny, bright red, and bouncing in thick waves across my shoulders. I turned and let my sweatpants fall to my ankles.