Succubus Takes Manhattan

by Nina Harper

  I washed up. Sybil and Desi were digging through the makeup in their bags so that I could repair mine. “No, that blush absolutely will not look good on her,” I heard my friends say as they examined their combined collection.

  “I can’t find Satan, but I will still make sure that this mortal pays for his transgressions.” Eros had arrived and was angry enough to pass for a vengeance demon. Her lips were drawn tight and her hands balled into fists, and her voice sounded like a snake hissing before a strike.

  “ ’S okay,” I told her. “I’m drunk. Do you have any black mascara?”

  Desi is the only one whose blush looked at all right on me, but I had my own lipstick and Eros came through with the mascara.

  “Come on, let’s go out and have a good time,” Sybil urged me. “You look fantastic.”

  Nathan was not at the party and wasn’t going to be at the party. Ever. But there were demons I could talk to and besides, I was drunk enough that I had almost forgotten the entire reason I’d come. I had to talk to Marduk for Meph. If I hadn’t promised I would have been out hunting or watching DVDs of the Gilmore Girls.

  I’d promised. And so I went back into the fray, determined to find Marduk and learn whether he had been plotting against Mephistopheles. Which was not going to be entirely easy. Marduk might be a traditionalist, but he was not a fool. And he and I didn’t have much of a relationship, despite our shared roots. We didn’t run in the same circles, didn’t go to the same parties, didn’t have the same friends. He would hardly trust me with his treason, if he were involved in treason. I would have to be careful.

  First I had to go through the polite noises with a number of demons I hadn’t seen in ages. Had to repeat what I’d been doing for the past decade or two, tell everyone how pleased I was to have come and no, I hadn’t been avoiding or snubbing anyone. I’d just been busy, they knew how it was . . .

  I worked my way around the first room and then the second. And then I saw Marduk.

  Marduk had been a god in Babylon, at times even the head of the pantheon, and he never forgot it. Neither did anyone around him. He was seven feet tall, which was not unduly large in a gathering of demons, but towering enough that he stood out in the room. He had a carefully curled and trimmed beard, and his hair rippled down past his shoulders in a perfect pyramid. He reminded me of my father, who had worn precisely this style three thousand years ago when he had been king. It had been quite the thing back then, but Marduk had never changed. Even his robes were cut to the ancient patterns and looked like they had been made out of the same scratchy fabrics.

  I drifted closer to him, until I was at the edge of the circle where he held forth, and I remembered why I’d avoided him for the past fifty years, and for a hundred and fifty before that.

  Marduk is always at the center of an adoring clique. He can’t stand to be alone, or to listen to anyone else. He is always talking as his sycophants circle around, applauding his stories, asking questions, showing unending interest in whatever caught his fancy.

  When I approached he was telling a story about some Greek scientist who had figured out that all of Babylonian astronomy had come directly from Marduk, and how this Greek had begun a cult to him in Athens. I’d heard the story before and besides, I found his arrogance tiring.

  Did Meph know what he had been asking?

  Yes, he had to know. He was Mephistopheles, and he knew how completely self-involved the older ex-gods all were. Even Eros has momentary flashes. Marduk’s only concession to modernity was that he acknowledged Satan as the chief god of Hell.

  I maneuvered so that I would be in his line of sight. He squinted at me as if he didn’t quite remember who I was. “Lilith?” he asked.

  I bowed at the waist. Not the full obeisance required by a godhead, but we were at a party. And the fact of modern Hell was that, as one of Satan’s Chosen, I outranked him. But I was politic enough to play along with his vanity, especially since there was no other way to get what I (or Mephistopheles) wanted. “Indeed, Lord, it is good of you to remember your servant,” I said in Akkadian. It didn’t sound quite so smarmy in my mother tongue; they were just ordinary phrases that didn’t mean anything more than polite greeting.

  “You have been absent from my court for a very long time,” he observed.

  I bowed again. (Marduk liked the bowing and it cost me nothing. So long as I didn’t have to go down on my knees on the carpet, I was fine with buttering him up.) “I have been required to serve,” I said, my eyes on the oversized flowers woven into the rug just in front of his feet.

  “Ah, yes.” He sighed. “But I do not forget the daughter of the royal house, albeit a minor daughter of a concubine, not a wife, of my devoted worshipper.”

  There was only one royal house Marduk acknowledged, which worked very much to my advantage. Marduk would not forget my regal heritage.

  “I crave a moment of your time, Lord.” I made my voice as humble as I could. “If you would be so good to grant it to me.”

  He took my elbow and steered me toward the balcony, where we had a bit of privacy. “Why would you request audience of me?” he asked formally.

  “I have heard that you might have use for me,” I told him. “I have heard that you are to be restored to your former glory under Satan, and that you might find a use for a handmaiden who speaks your mother tongue and knows the rituals of the old world.”

  “Then Satan has released you from your vows?” he asked, with some surprise. “You are Her Chosen handmaiden.”

  “That is true always, Lord,” I agreed. “I had heard that you required assistance to render Her the best.”

  Marduk sighed. “My little Lilith, it does you credit that you come to me. Both your loyalty to Satan and your loyalty to your Babylonian roots. And while I know that you did study accounts when you were a Priestess, I really need someone who is an expert in double-entry bookkeeping.”

  Marduk’s official position in the Hierarchy was the head of the Budget and Finance Department of Hell. Looking for accountants was well within the scope of his normal duties.

  I bowed my head again. “I am sorry. I heard that you might need more generalized assistance.”

  He seemed confused for a minute or two, and then his features relaxed. “Oh, indeed. You must have heard that Tahidra is transferring to HR.” He waved his hand. “You would be utterly wasted in Budget and Finance, my dear. Let alone as the HR officer of the department. Now, if you could get that lovely greed demon Sybil to leave the Upperworld and join us, she is a financial genius. She, possibly, could get us through this spate of overspending. But your loveliness would only be wasted, and I think you would be unhappy doing the work of our department.”

  “Overspending?” I asked. Satan cares deeply about budget. Her pockets are deep and She believes that all Her minions should live well, but She does not approve of bad management.

  Marduk sighed again. I spotted a waiter circulating with a tray of gin and tonics and nabbed two. I handed one to Marduk. “You look like you could use a drink,” I said, handing it to him.

  He poured it down his throat in a single swallow.

  I took his empty glass and traded it for my full one. That he began to sip, not delicately but at least he didn’t chug the whole thing.

  He rubbed his eyes and looked at me, and for the first time I noticed that he looked vulnerable and tired.

  “I have a problem, Lilith,” he said. It must be the drink, I thought. “There is money missing from our reserves.”

  “Missing?” I asked. I didn’t know what this was about but something told me that it was important.

  He nodded slowly. “No one knows yet. I have auditors looking. I have only just discovered this. But there are only a few demons who have the authorization to draw from the Treasury, so it must be one of a very small number. But for what? Satan would approve any legitimate expenditure. For personal finances? The higher ranks of Hell are all well-heeled. No one needs to steal. And who would have the nerve to
steal from Satan?”

  I agreed that that seemed unlikely. Satan is the best boss and the best friend ever, but She does not forgive transgression. And stealing from Her Treasury would be unpardonable. Anyone, even the highest demon, caught with a hand in the till would be cast into the lowest pits of torment for eternity.

  Marduk looked pale and drawn, and he had finished the second drink already. “I must find out who is doing this, Lilith,” he said, using my old name. “Satan has not demanded an accounting recently, but She will. And if I do not find the thief before She does, then I will be held accountable.”

  No wonder Marduk was scared. I looked around for the waiter with the drinks, but he had disappeared. If I were Marduk I would need a lot more than alcohol to keep me sane.

  “I appreciate your offer, Lilith,” he said, his words thick. I suspected that those two gin and tonics were far from his first drinks of the evening. “But you see, I need someone who is a brilliant auditor. I may look up one of our business residents. Do you think Ken Lay would be able to trace the problem? If I offered a reduction of his sentence to a less horrific pit of torment?”

  For the first time ever I actually felt pity for Marduk. Old-fashioned and stuffy he might be, but he was in trouble. It sounded like no fault of his own, but Satan would surely hold him responsible for the missing funds. No one would want to be Marduk now.

  “Ken Lay is a great idea,” I said, partly because it was better than anything else I could come up with and partly to reassure him. “If you like, I will try to target some more financial and banking types. Once I deliver them, you can recruit them. Would that be helpful?”

  Marduk patted me on the shoulder. “Thank you, Lilith. That is a kind and thoughtful offer, and will be useful too. Yes, indeed, if you can target prey with financial acumen, that will be helpful to me. I knew it would be good to talk to you. You do your father and your House credit.”

  I bowed my head deeply, and he put his hand on my curls in blessing. For a moment he was a god again, and I was a princess of the royal house of Babylon.

  And then I had a brilliant idea. “I do know an accountant who might be able to help,” I said hesitantly. “He’s a ceremonial magician, so he’s used to demonkind. And it might be useful to have one under our thumb rather than the other way around. But could I just give a reference without a delivery?”

  Marduk looked at me curiously. “I have accountants. Is this one as good as Ken Lay?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, truth to tell. But he is an accountant and if it’s useful . . .”

  Marduk studied me. “I will think on it,” he said. And then another waiter passed by with a tray of what appeared to be whiskey sours, and Marduk followed after.

  Poor guy, he certainly needed the drinks.

  chapter

  SIX

  I’d learned plenty for Mephistopheles, probably more than he’d imagined I would. Certainly I had learned more than I’d expected. While it looked like the plot was deeper than the group of fanatics who had attacked me and my friends last month, I was relieved to think that Marduk was not to blame. For all he was an old-fashioned stuffed shirt, he was a fellow Babylonian.

  And he hadn’t been a bad god, either. He’d been responsible and responsive to his worshippers and had regularly delivered aid and miracles.

  And he was being set up to take the fall for someone else in the Hierarchy. This sounded more and more like a power grab at the level of the high lieutenants, which meant that no junior sex demon was taking out her jealousy on us. On the whole, I didn’t know if that was better or worse.

  Worse, probably. A junior sex demon I could best without thinking of it. Someone on Marduk’s level would be much more difficult. And someone on Marduk’s level who had managed to steal from the Treasury without Marduk knowing it was threatening indeed. This demon could do far more damage than any three disgruntled sex demons.

  I was thinking so hard about what I’d learned from Marduk that I barely realized that I was at a party. I wanted to sit down with Mephistopheles right away and go over the problem. He, no doubt, would have some insights. Especially since it was probably he who was the ultimate victim.

  Or maybe not. Marduk, not Meph, had been set up to take the fall. What if the purpose of this whole plot was to discredit and eliminate Marduk, not Meph?

  Could Meph even be behind it? No, I couldn’t believe that. Meph, as CEO of Hell, was certainly capable of such an action, but what would it benefit him? He and Marduk might be rivals, but I had the impression that Meph was just as happy to have Marduk in Budget. He’d called it a boring department more than once, and considered it to be no more than support for his own Operations.

  I was musing over these possibilities so deeply that when someone called my name I jumped.

  “Lily? Is that you, Lily?” The voice was full of pleasure and excitement, the accent was familiar and entirely unexpected. The speaker was a handsome blond man with brilliant blue eyes and a great tan, dressed in Helmut Lang. The very accountant I had thought of for Marduk had just materialized in front of me.

  Marten? What was Marten doing here? He didn’t belong here. He had just been a brief fling in Aruba. How had he managed to get to New York? To this party? I was in shock, and after three thousand years I had thought I was impervious. But I had never, ever, in my wildest imagination thought that I would see Marten again. I gaped at him silently.

  “You didn’t tell me that you were in New York,” I finally mumbled, because I had to say something.

  “This was, hmm, not exactly a planned trip. I was asked to come only yesterday. This is my first experience of your fair city. I have not been cold in two years now, and it is very surprising.”

  Azoked had done this before. She’d misled me. She had warned me, yes, but it wasn’t Nathan she had meant. It was Marten. Who had never been my boyfriend. He had just been a guy who’d picked me up in Aruba and had been a good enough lover that I’d let him live. But the deal was that I left Aruba and it was over. He hadn’t been any more interested in a real relationship than I had been. I’d been in love with Nathan then.

  I was still in love with Nathan.

  But Nathan had dumped me.

  And here was Marten. Hmmmm . . .

  “How long are you in town?” I asked.

  “I will be here until Tuesday,” he said. “And I came to this party hoping to see you.”

  “You could have sent e-mail.”

  He shrugged. “You did not give me your address, or even your last name. This is easier.”

  Yes. Easier. Because since we were both here, we knew we were both associated with the Underworld.

  “I am surprised,” I admitted. “I had not thought you were demonkind.”

  “I am not,” he said, and shrugged. “But you are. And I, I have dealings with many demons. I am, what would you say, amicus demoni?”

  “Really?” I asked. One thing to be a ceremonial magician. But to identify as a demon friend was something very different indeed. Unless it was his English. Or Latin. Or something.

  “But since we are both here, and I will be in town until Tuesday, perhaps you and I could get together?” His grin was close to irresistible. “Perhaps you could steer me to a good place to eat? Or to have fun? You must know the very best of these places.”

  “Sure,” I said, pleased at the prospect. “Where are you staying?”

  “A very interesting boutique hotel—Hotel Gansevoort? It is very new, I think. I love the Dutch name.”

  I managed to bite my tongue before I asked how an accountant could afford one of the hippest hotels in New York. “That hotel has one of the best restaurants in New York, and one of the trendiest clubs.”

  “Then we must go there. I insist! Tomorrow night?” Marten was quite enthusiastic.

  “Well, maybe dinner,” I agreed. “It’s a work night for me, though. I’ve got to be at meetings on Monday morning and we’ve got editorial on Tuesday.”

  Marten ra
ised an eyebrow. “You are a succubus. Surely you do not need to work. Doesn’t Satan take care of you in the finest style?”

  I shrugged. “Yes, well, I’d get bored if I didn’t work. And besides, I’m the accessories editor at an important fashion magazine.”

  “And since you are so much the leader of fashion in any event, best to use the media,” Marten agreed. “It is generous of you to share your expertise with the world.” His tone was not even a little bit sarcastic.

  “So as long as you don’t mind making it an early night, I could spend some time in the evening. And I could tell you some places to go, if you’re interested. What kinds of things do you like to do?”

  Funny, I’d spent three days in Aruba with this man. We’d gone to bat caves and clubs and had fabulous sex. I knew what he did for work, and that he’d been born and grew up in Rotterdam and had only moved to Aruba two years ago. And that was all I knew about him.

  Except, of course, that he was a ceremonial magician. And that I had an odd idea to plant him in Marduk’s department.

  “Well, I do plan to go to Weiser’s and The Magikal Childe,” he said. “And possibly the Masonic Lodge in New York—I believe that it is quite magnificent.”

  “Is that the one on Twenty-third and Sixth?” I asked, knowing full well it had to be. “There’s a very good restaurant near there, very popular, with excellent cocktails.”

  He nodded and his lovely blond hair fell into his eyes. “Then it is settled. I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you, Lily. I have thought of you so often since you left.”

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Marten,” I said. Nathan had broken my heart, and the ego boost of having another handsome, charming gentleman (who wanted to see me more than once) was a kind of solace. I smiled at him and held out my hand. He gathered me into his arms.

  As we swept around the room, turning to the music, I was happy. Really honestly just happy. I forgot everything except the music and the dancing, the glittering lights and parade of beautiful clothes—and the handsome, accomplished man who held me in his arms.