by L. L. Frost
SUCCUBUS BARGAIN: THE GAIN
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
The (un)Lucky Succubus
Succubus Bargain
Serial Parts
The Offer
The Deal
The Terms
The Rules
The Gain
Succubus Studies
Serial Parts
The Torch
Table of Contents
(un)Professional
Self Educate
Bargain Dessert
The Bakery
Room with a View
(un)Professional
Trepidation fills me as I clutch the set of rose pink t-shirt and sweatpants I pulled from the laundry basket. The gold YES printed on them winks under the basement’s fitful overhead lights.
Turning, I clamber through the junk pile and run up the uneven steps, stubbing my toe halfway up. With a curse, I stumble into the kitchen and rush to the fridge where I fling the door open. Relief makes my legs weak as I spot the white cardboard box exactly where I left it the night before.
Then, a hint of blue frosting on the corner of the lid catches my attention. Fingers shaky, I slip open the box and stare at the empty cupcake holders.
In the next instant, fury washes my vision red, and with a screech of anger, my wings burst from my back. My feet barely touch the ground as I zoom up the tower stairs, bypassing Tobias’s room, to fling open the door at the top. “Kellen! I’m going to kill you!”
Silence greets me, and I zip around the empty room in hunt of the red headed demon. When I find myself on my hands and knees, peering beneath his bed, reality slams back into me.
I straighten, wings snapping back into hiding as I glance around the room. He should be home by now and sleeping, which means he’s hiding from me. The coward.
His power hangs in the air around me, like thunderclouds that make the air still and humid. But it feels dissipated somehow, old and fading.
The lush gray comforter on his bed lies in a pile near the footboard, his feathered pillows in disarray across the silk sheets. But when I run my fingers across their slick surface, I find them cold. If he slept here today, he left a while ago.
A hand knotted rug, in shades of blue and gray, digs hard little nubs against my knees. Pushing to my feet, my head now clearer, I methodically search his room for my missing clothes.
Like mine, his room lacks a closet. The wooden floor, warm beneath my bare feet, glows with freshly applied polish. He has three dressers, all made from solid, dark wood. The drawers slide out on oiled casters as I dump them out, one-by-one.
A chest in one corner defies my attempt to open it, a brass lock on the outside stubbornly keeping its contents hidden. In another corner, a large bean bag chair rests next to a stereo system, a pair of neon orange headphones abandoned on the floor.
Shoulders sagging with defeat, I peek behind the framed artwork of lightning storms in the futile hope of discovering some secret compartment. Wherever he hid my clothes, they’re not in his room.
My mind goes back to the hoard of junk in the basement. For all I know, my clothes are stuffed into a hidden dresser or trunk down there. There’s no way I have enough time to search for them before my meeting with K&B Financial.
Twisting around to check the clock on the nightstand, my heart lurches as I see the time.
Shit, I need to leave, or I’ll be late.
I rush from the ransacked room, down the stairs, grab the pink outfit from the kitchen where I’d dropped it, and run back up the spiral staircase on the opposite side of the giant fireplace. Back in my room, I nibble on my lip as I take a moment to stare at the pink outfit clutched in one fist. Then, my shoulders square as I march to the stack of boxes against the back wall that I’d labeled Office Supplies.
Digging out a black sharpie, I get to work.
***
From the other side of his massive desk, Emil arches an eyebrow as his cold gaze rakes over me. “Am I supposed to take you serious right now?”
I force a bright smile and put one hand on my hip. “This is one of many uniform ideas I have.”
His eyes linger on my breasts where I used a sharpie to turn the gold YES into Say YES to Boo’s Boutique Bakery.
When I arrived, the receptionist who lead me back to Emil’s office had given my too small, rose pink outfit a derisive once over and wished me Good luck before shutting me inside.
Emil shakes his head. “I would reconsider this one.”
My hand drops, and I walk toward the desk. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
The office is exactly as I remember it with the seating area off to one side and Emil’s oversized desk on the other. I eye the wall where a hidden door leads to Tobias’s office. Right now, it remains firmly closed, camouflaged among the wood paneling.
Should I take it as a bad sign that K&B’s financial adviser isn’t here for the meeting?
Unwilling to play Emil’s power game again, I grab the back of one of the chairs in front of his desk and drag it closer before I take the seat. When I set my briefcase on his desk, the tight t-shirt rides up in the back, and I tug it down once more.
Directly across from him, I notice the odd tinge of blue to his lips, and my eyes narrow. So, Kellen wasn’t the only saboteur in our house. My jaw hurts, and I force myself to unclench my teeth and get down to business.
“I’m here today to request a loan in the amount of fifty-thousand dollars as a start-up for my bakery.” I click open the locks and pull out the first of my projection charts to pass to him. “As you can see, bakeries in this area have done well in the past, and there’s a rising market for boutique style cafes.”
Emil takes the paperwork and flips through the financial charts. “What is your current competition?”
My spine straightens as I pull out the map I prepared. “As shown here, the only competition in the immediate area is a coffee shop, which mainly offers sandwiches and muffins. While it has seating, it’s designed with two person tables that don’t encourage patrons to linger. Boo’s Boutique Bakery will have lounge areas, with dessert towers that customers can order to be brought to their table.”
I pull out the sample menu. “Here, you can see the items I plan to provide and the price ranges.” Out comes another document. “And here is the baseline cost of ingredients versus the cost of sale to more easily see the company’s prospective gain.”
Emil is quiet for a long time as he flips through the paperwork. “You put a lot of thought into this.”
My wings rustle against my spine in excited pride, but I keep the smile off my face. “I’m passionate about baking. People are happy when they eat dessert, and I want to make people happy. Opening a bakery will allow me to do both.”
He sets the paperwork aside, and his wintery gaze meets mine. “A
nd you’ll have the added benefit of skimming off those energies to help sustain yourself.”
My hands tremble for a moment, and I curl them into fists against my thighs. “Skimming doesn’t hurt humans.”
He glances back at the paperwork. “It also won’t keep you alive.”
I bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from snapping. Tobias said something similar, but I refuse to take their word for it. Why would Julian teach me to do it, if it couldn’t keep me fed long term? I need to call my cousin. Or better yet, I need to corner his vinyl covered ass to get some information out of him.
The silence in the office stretches into uncomfortableness. At least on my side. Emil looks like he could casually peruse paperwork indefinitely.
I clear my throat. “So, do I get the loan?”
His attention shifts to me. “Did you bring a sample in today? Of the cupcakes?”
My fists tighten until my fingernails dig into my palms, but I force a smile. “I believe you’ve had ample samples.”
Emil leans back in his chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Scooting to the edge of my seat, I grip the desk. “I’m talking about all the cupcakes you ate while I was sleeping.”
Again, the eyebrow arches. “Do you have proof?”
Springing to my feet, I point at his face. “Your mouth is still blue!”
Unfazed, he licks his lips with an equally blue tinged tongue. “You should reconsider the dye used in that frosting.”
My legs shake with the urge to dive across the desk and strangle him. “I can’t believe you ate them all! You knew I was going to bring them today.”
“What does it matter?” He folds his hands in front of him, cool as can be. “They were for me, anyway.”
I lean across the desk, eyes narrowed. “Then, why are you asking for more samples?”
His lips purse before he mutters, “I’m hungry.”
“That’s not my problem.” I tap the paperwork in front of him. “So, do I get the loan?”
“Tobias will need to review it, but I have no argument against letting you pursue this venture.” He stacks the paperwork together and moves it off to one side before he stands. “Now, let’s discuss reimbursement.”
My spine snaps straight in surprise. Suspicious, my gaze locks on him as he circles the desk to come around to my side. “I’ll make monthly payments once the bakery is up and running.”
“Didn’t I already tell you?” He stops directly in front of me. “K&B Financial doesn’t take monetary reimbursement from demons.”
Tilting my chin up, I stare down my nose at him. “And, didn’t I already tell you, I wasn’t going to be bought? I thought we’d moved past this.”
His hand lifts to skim cold fingers over my arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Think outside the box, Adie. Just because you’re a succubus doesn’t mean everything is about sex.”
With a shiver, I fight the strange urge to lean into his chilly embrace. “Your first offer sure made it sound like that’s what you thought.”
He cups my cheeks, thumbs brushing across my cheekbones, and I shiver harder. “Your type of demon has a unique ability to know people’s inner desires. A useful trait to have on hand in business deals.”
Pinpricks of ice seep into my skin, numbing my face, and I mumble, “You want to know people’s kinks?”
When he sighs with exasperation, a small puff of fog forms between us. “I need you to take your mind out of the gutter.”
“But that’s all I get from people.” Restless, my fingers curl into his suit jacket as my focus drops to his blue stained lips.
Will he taste like ice cream? Cold and sweet against my tongue? My belly suddenly aches with an emptiness that yearns to be filled with the weight of avalanches.
The temperature in the room drops as his eyes shift from pale blue to white, and his head drops toward mine. At the last minute, he freezes, his lips hovering over mine.
His gaze clears back to normal. “Sorry, I almost forgot about your rules.”
He straightens, his hands dropping to his sides as he steps away. Warmth floods into the air between us, and I want to kick myself for that stupid board I duck taped to the fridge. Hunger gnaws at my stomach, the ache spreading with every foot he puts between us.
My wings rustle, ready to spring free, and fly me to him. I want to wrap my body around his and take what he was about to offer.
Instead, I draw in a shaky breath, and decide to ignore the tension in the room as I take a seat. “Tell me what you want.”
He leans against the desk, just out of arm’s reach, and crosses his ankles. “Most succubi, if they can bring themselves to actually work on it, can see more than just sexual fantasies.”
My mouth pops open at the dig, and he raises his hand to stop my protest. “I’m not saying that you, specifically, are lazy. Your faults seem to come from improper training, not an unwillingness to work, which is why I believe you can learn.”
All desire to mold my body against his flies right out of my mind. “You really know how to sweet talk, don’t you?”
“It’s not my strong suit,” he acknowledges without any sign of remorse. “Succubi can see desire, they just tend to focus on what calls to their nature, which is sex. I’m going to need you to work past that blind spot and focus on desire as a whole.”
Arms folding under my breasts, I bounce my knee in irritation. “I’ve never heard of this before.”
Emil studies me for a long moment, his brows pinching together. “How long have you been corporeal?”
“That’s none of your business,” I snap.
Age can’t be guessed based on power level since some choose to spend longer in the demon realm. And some demons, no matter how long they exist, will never amass the kind of power Emil, Tobias, and Kellen take for granted.
As far as the trio of destruction demons know, I’m just a really incompetent succubus. The self-depredation makes my mood plummet. Their assumptions aren’t wrong.
“I planned to try you out today, but your attire”—Emil’s gaze takes in my outfit once more—“is less than professional at the moment.”
Try me out. Like I was the latest tool is his financial arsenal. “Assuming I learn this trick of yours, how will it work?”
“I’ll call you in as a consultant on clients I need a read on.” He buffs his nails against his sleeve before adding, “Payment is based on the information gathered.”
This feels too much like a trap. “I think I’d rather pay back my loan in cash.”
He peeks at me through his white eyelashes. “That’s not an option.”
I put my hand on my knee to stop the restless bounce of my leg. “What if I’m busy when you call? Or I don’t want to tell you what I find out?”
“You come when I call, or you’ll face a fine.” His hands grip the edge of the desk, completely relaxed. “Three fines, and your loan will be sent to collections. It’s not a place you want to find yourself in.”
What kind of collections office would a demon run bank have? Somehow, I don’t think it will be a simple reclamation of property.
I shake my head in bewilderment. “How do you make money with this kind of bargaining?”
“The same way all demons do.” A cold smile spreads across his face. “We fleece the humans.”
A shiver of fear creeps down my spine. Sometimes, I forget that they’re destruction demons. That they’ve wiped out entire cities and sleep just fine at night.
Is my dream of opening a bakery worth this kind of bargain? What’s my other option? Live with them until my roommate contract runs out in a year, then go back to sleeping on Landon’s couch? Because there’s no way they’ll let me stay with them once our agreement terminates. If I’m not beneficial to them, there’s no reason for them to let me stay. I’ll be kicked out and a new, more complaisant, succubus will take my place.
Irrational anger spikes through me at the idea. Adeline Boo Pond is not int
erchangeable.
Standing, I take a step to close the distance between us, my body brushing against his as I lean around him for my briefcase. My nipples tighten from the chill that rises off of him, and as I step back, his gaze drops to my breasts. Pink spreads across his high cheekbones, hunger filling his eyes.
“I look forward to signing the paperwork.” Confident, I turn and walk toward the door, putting an extra sway in my step to shake the gold YES on my ass at him. Beneath it, in sharpie, I’d changed it to read Say, YES, to one more bite.
When I near the door, I glance back. Ice creeps along the oak surface of his desk where he grips it tightly.
I reach for the door knob. “Have a good rest of your day, Emil. I’ll see you at home.”
His voice comes out with the grate of glaciers. “How many of those outfits do you have?”
“I’d guess one for every day of the week.”
He smooths down the front of his jacket in an effort to hide the bulge in his trousers. “I’m going to kill Kellen.”
I give him an evil smile. “We can do it together.”
Self Educate
I drive my battered, old sedan into the parking lot behind HelloHell Deliveries and pull into a spot next to one of the delivery vans. Since there’s time left in my day, I figure pinning down my cousin to give me some answer can take precedence. I’m tired of these destruction demons knowing more about my heritage than I do.
Flipping open my briefcase, I fling the car keys inside, then slide out of the driver’s side door, clutching the leather case in one hand. It looks ridiculous with the pink sweat pants and a boob destroying, tiny t-shirt, but I don’t have pockets. My mind spins with possible revenge plans to take against Kellen. It must be equal in compensation to the theft of my clothes and the embarrassment of being forced to go out in public looking like this.
When I circle the building and come out onto the main sidewalk, a woman with her two kids gives me a startled glance. She then searches around for the nearest fitness club, as if she needs a reason to explain my attire. When none are immediately visible on the street, she gives me a nervous smile and pulls her children away at a fast walk.