Succubus Heat gk-4

by Richelle Mead

  "Apparently this is my social life, if I'm pathetic enough to come in on a Saturday night." I forced myself to focus on Doug and Maddie only, trying hard not to look at Seth's soft, coppery brown hair or gentle eyes. Why did he have to be here of all nights? The answer: he was here every night. He was an author and did his best work in coffee shops. When we'd broken up, he'd tried to tactfully find another and stay away from me, but Maddie-oblivious to his reasons-had begged him to stay at the bookstore's.

  "Where are you going?" asked Maddie. "Is everything okay?"

  "Yeah, yeah," I said brusquely. "Long story."

  I beckoned Maddie and Doug to the clipboard, explaining again how I was pretty sure the store would be fine without my labor, so long as they could cover the tasks I did as manager. We sketched out a brief list of my responsibilities, like payroll and inventory, and began divvying them up.

  Doug tapped the list. "I've done all these before, at one time or another. They're no problem. I'll take the first half." He elbowed his sister. "What about you? You gonna take the rest and pull your share here?"

  Maddie pursed her lips. She was immensely talented but suffered from bouts of insecurity, which I'd repeatedly told her was ridiculous. She'd improved a lot over the months-again, thanks to me-but still faltered. "I didn't realize you did so much. I hope I can learn it all."

  "Stop playing coy. I'll teach you," said Doug. "You'll be as good as Kincaid in no time."

  "Yeah," I said dryly. "We're practically interchangeable anyway." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Seth shift uncomfortably.

  "The whole thing seems kind of sketchy, though," remarked Doug, tilting his head so that his black hair fell away from his face. "You're going to be gone, but you're not sure when or how long? I thought you were the reliable one around here."

  "It's…family stuff," I told them. "Just gotta be dealt with. Besides, now you can have a chance to be responsible. You should be thanking me, Doug." He stuck his tongue out at me.

  "Is Warren going to be okay with it?" asked Maddie, still fretting on my behalf.

  "Let me deal with Warren," I assured her.

  Doug scoffed at that, but Maddie didn't catch on. Warren, the store's marginally moral owner, had been a longtime sex buddy of mine. He gave me about as much energy as Dante, but he was convenient and suited my mood lately. I'd stopped our tryst while dating Seth but had since returned to old habits. Doug had known about my affair with Warren then and now but was tactful enough to leave me to my own choices, aside from the occasional bit of eye rolling. I suspected Seth knew what was going on too, but I didn't care. Warren wasn't going to give me any grief about taking time off. I was too good at what I did, both at work and in the bedroom.

  We shuffled one shift where I was supposed to have closed, and then I tossed the clipboard back on its pile, suddenly needing to get out of there as soon as possible. "Alright. Thanks, team. I'll leave you to your work."

  "Off to hit the town?" asked Doug, still amused. "I can join you in about a half-hour. I know a killer party."

  I shook my head. "Already hit the town. I'm heading home."

  "Loser," he called after me.

  Maddie wished me well with my mysterious time off, and then I left them, walking through the store and exchanging greetings with my other co-workers as they scurried around with their closing tasks. I'd nearly made it to the door when I heard someone call my name. I turned and saw Casey hurrying toward me. She was twenty or so and went to the University of Washington. She'd worked here almost the entire time she'd been in college and was one of our best employees. So, I stopped and forced a smile, my eyes straying longingly toward the door.

  "Hey, what's up?"

  She grinned, dark eyes sparkling. "I wanted to know if you were going to go to my party next weekend," she said. "You never answered the e-mail."

  I didn't remember any e-mail, but then, I'd been pretty trigger-happy with the delete key lately. "I didn't get it," I lied. "What's going on?"

  "It's my graduation party. This Sunday."

  I frowned. "It's April."

  "I'm graduating early. I got all my credits finished up, so I don't have to do spring quarter. Pretty cool, huh?"

  "Whoa," I said, actually impressed. "That is cool. Math, right?"

  "Math and Latvian."

  "Why on earth-never mind." Now was not the time to pursue why someone of Filipino heritage was studying Baltic languages. "I wish I could go, but I'm leaving town tomorrow for some family stuff and don't know when I'll be back. I'm really sorry."

  Casey's face fell a little, but she told me she understood. And like Maddie, she wished me well and hoped my "family" business would be taken care of easily. That made two of us. She left me and went to finish her closing tasks.

  As soon as I cleared the store's door and was outdoors, I stopped and exhaled. Breezy night air washed over me. Being in Seth's presence was smothering. It stirred up too much in me. Even while talking business and numbers with Doug and Maddie, most of my attention had been on Seth-exactly how far away he stood from me, the way he smelled, the way his messy hair stuck up today. Everything else had been background noise compared to him.

  Reaching into my purse with shaking hands, I pulled out my cigarettes, desperately needing one for the walk home. I'd smoked for a century or so and stopped ten years ago, something I'd been very proud of, even though I was immune to the effects. Stress had driven me to pick up the habit again. I felt a little bad about subjecting others to secondhand smoke, but honestly, smoking was the least of my problems right now.

  "Fuck." I flicked the switch on my lighter and got nothing. Three more flicks produced similar results. Holding the lighter up to my ear, I shook it. Nothing. It was out of fluid. "Fuck," I repeated. I only lived a few blocks away, but somehow, that walk was now going to be agony.

  Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a boot scuff around the corner of the building. Frowning, I took a few steps forward, wondering if anyone was there. This area was pretty safe, but Lower Queen Anne still had its share of vagrants. Yet, when I glanced around the corner, there was no one there.

  There was, however, a pack of matches lying on the ground.

  Kneeling down, I picked the book up and examined them. Mark's Mad Martini Bar. I'd been there a long time ago. It was in Upper Queen Anne, not too far away if you didn't mind trekking up the hill. It wasn't unreasonable that a pack of their matches would find their way here. What was weird was that the matches showed up right when I needed them.

  Behind me, I heard the store's door open. "Georgina?"

  I rose and turned sharply around. Seth.

  "Hey," I said, hoping for blandness. The smothering feeling returned.

  Light from inside the store lit up his features in the twilight, and I ate up every line and angle of his face. His eyes looked dark in the dimness, but in full light, they were brown infused with amber. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and his gaze wouldn't meet mine. It was painfully reminiscent of how he'd been when we first met, too shy to look directly at me.

  "I wanted to see if you were okay," he said after several awkward moments.

  I turned the matches over in my hand a couple of times and then placed them in my purse's outer pocket. "I'm fine," I said, keeping my voice cool and distant.

  "It's just…" He relaxed slightly and gave a small, rueful laugh. "When you're vague about your activities and mention 'family,' it usually means immortal business. And immortal business always means trouble."

  I started to smile, then immediately squelched it. "Yeah, it does, and believe me, it's a great one this time." Even after everything that had gone down between us, there was such a comfort and familiarity with him that I immediately wanted to launch in and recap the story for him. I could already see us both laughing at the idea of Canadian Satanists. I could perfectly picture the way Seth would shake his head in exasperation. But it wasn't to be. I was too hurt and too proud to even allow him friendship, so I just shrugged and said, "B
ut it'll work out. It always does."

  "Yeah…but usually not without a lot of hassle. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

  "You don't have to be." Not anymore . "I'm not in any danger. Mostly just annoyed."

  He opened his mouth to speak, and I knew the gesture. He wanted to argue that there was still cause for concern-but times had changed. He swallowed and let the comment go. More silence fell. I knew I should leave, but somehow, I couldn't make myself do it. He apparently couldn't either. "You…you look really great tonight," he said at last, still fumbling for conversation.

  There was a catch in his voice. He knew my looks tonight had to do with more than just my body and outfit. The energy I'd stolen from sleeping with the therapist wreathed me. Life and its power were irresistible to all creatures, mortal and immortal alike. Immortals could literally see that life glowing around me. To mortals, I simply looked beautiful. Unearthly. Perfect.

  For the sake of politeness, I pretended he was complimenting me for normal things. "Thanks. I was out with the others when all this…stuff…went down. It's kind of put a damper on my partying, though."

  He nodded by way of answer and shifted so that he actually made eye contact. I wished he hadn't. My heart melted inside me, and I felt a sob building in my chest. Desperate for something to do, I took out the serendipitous matches and lit the cigarette I'd been holding the whole time. I took a long drag and exhaled. Seth stepped back. He wasn't a fan of smoking. It was like I suddenly had armor.

  "Well," I said, feeling bolder, "I should go home and pack. See you around."

  I turned and had only taken a step when he called out to me. "Georgina?"

  I glanced back. "Yeah?"

  "Do you…um…" He faltered, and again, I was reminded of that long-ago Seth. Bittersweet feelings burned within me. "Do you need someone to feed your cat?"

  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "No, but thanks. Cody'll do it." I spoke the next words, fully knowing they'd inflict damage. "Or Dante will."

  Seth flinched, and somehow, I felt both triumphant and sad at the same time. "No problem," he said haltingly. "Just thought I'd, you know, check."

  "Thanks," I said again. We held each other's gazes a few more moments, and then I turned away and walked off into the night.

  CHAPTER 3

  I neither packed nor called Dante when I got home. I was exhausted. Talking to Seth had been too depressing. I lived too close to the bookstore, I decided. What had once been convenient now felt oppressive. A few blocks simply wasn't enough distance between Seth and me. I kind of wished Emerald City had another branch somewhere that I could work. In lieu of that, maybe I was the one who needed to find a new residence. My lease here was ending soon, and until now, I'd never considered anything except renewing. Moving was a startling-and weirdly appealing-thought, and I pondered it as I drifted off to sleep that night, my cat Aubrey snuggled against my legs.

  The next morning, I had to scramble to pack my things. Jerome hadn't given me any specific time to be in Vancouver, only "soon." I decided not to test the exact terms of that. Packing didn't take long, fortunately. I could shape-shift any clothing I wanted, but I had some favorites I preferred to just take with me. It was another lingering human habit. There were also cosmetics and other toiletries I wanted with me; I liked to do my own hair and makeup if I had the time.

  I was pouring my third cup of coffee in the kitchen when I felt the tingle of immortal signatures appear in my living room. Only a higher immortal, like a demon or angel, could directly teleport in, and I immediately recognized these two. Grace and Mei.

  They were Jerome's lieutenant demonesses. Heaven ran its agenda in a haphazard way, but ours was carefully organized. Territory was parceled out to archdemons, who in turn controlled a network of subordinate demons and lesser immortals like me and my friends: succubi, vampires, and imps. Jerome handled the big issues in the area, went to meetings with the demons who were above him, and was in charge of discipline. Grace and Mei handled the minutiae and paperwork and also kept an eye on the far reaches of Jerome's territory, areas he was too busy for and uninterested in. His full jurisdiction actually stretched along the coast of western Washington, though his base of operation was the Seattle metropolitan area. That was also where most of his staff was located. He only kept an occasional eye on the outskirts and left it to Grace and Mei to keep him apprised of what occurred there.

  For whatever reason, the demonesses always wore matching clothing. Today they sported black pantsuits, tailored to a perfect fit. Grace was blond and Mei black-haired, but their hairstyles were also similar: bluntly cut at the chin. Both wore brick-red lipstick.

  "Good morning, Georgina," said Grace.

  "We're here with last-minute instructions," said Mei.

  "Oh, okay." I was relieved. I'd been afraid Jerome had sent them to find out why I hadn't already crossed the Canadian border. "You guys want some coffee?"

  I offered them something every time they were here, and every time, they refused. So, I was a bit astonished when Grace asked, "What kind?"

  "Um…Starbucks. Their house blend."

  "No," replied Grace and Mei in unison.

  I shrugged and sat down on the couch. Aubrey had been lying there a minute ago but was nowhere in sight now. She hated these two. Mostly they creeped me out. "Okay," I asked. "What's the scoop?"

  They remained standing. Mei crossed her arms. "Jerome wants you to understand the situation with Cedric. The two of them have had a…disagreement over territorial lines."

  This perked my interest. "Ah. It's him, then. We'd heard Jerome had something going on with another demon."

  "The two of them had been eyeing each other's areas," explained Grace. "In the hopes of expanding their own boundaries into one large Pacific Northwest…" She paused thoughtfully.

  "…empire?" I suggested. She shrugged by way of agreement.

  "Something like that," said Mei. "But eventually, they put the dispute aside and gave up, each settling for their current territories. That's why Jerome is lending you to Cedric, as a sign of good will."

  I was too intrigued to retort about the degradation of Jerome "lending" me to anyone. "Jerome doesn't do things out of good will," I pointed out, recalling his snide remark about altruism last night. "There's more going on."

  Grace nodded. "Indeed. Jerome suspects that Cedric actually hasn't given up the struggle and is still plotting against him. Jerome wants you to spy and report back."

  Oh, I didn't like that. Not at all.

  "He wants me to spy on another demon? An arch demon? Do you know what kind of trouble I could get in if Cedric finds out?"

  Neither demoness said anything. It was no concern of theirs if I got smote. Considering Jerome's current attitude toward me, it probably wasn't much of a concern for him either, aside from having to send a requisition to Personnel for a new succubus.

  "So," continued Mei, "you'll have two agendas. You need to let Jerome know what Cedric's doing. And, you need to infiltrate Cedric's problem cult and keep them in line-although, if you make things a little uncomfortable for Cedric along the way, Jerome won't mind."

  "Right. The Canadian Satanists. What on earth are they doing that's such a big deal? Putting 666 on the backs of hockey jerseys?"

  My joke had no effect on either demoness. Someday, I thought, I'd get one of them to crack a smile. "They're attracting attention, enough that Cedric's superiors are embarrassed. They'd prefer this cult conduct its evil in more subtle ways."

  "Last I knew, true Satanists aren't actually evil per se," I mused. The rep aside, most Satanists were more into just acknowledging chaos and humanity's wild, base nature. "Most aren't actually out conducting bloody rituals or spray-painting pentagrams on walls."

  "Actually," said Mei, "this group is spray-painting pentagrams on walls."

  "Oh," I said. "That's lame."

  "They think they're evil…" began Grace.

  "…but they're not," finished Mei. "They need to b
e reined in."

  "Okay, sure. No problem." Influencing wannabe Satanists was a piece of cake compared to spying on a demon. I glanced at the time. "Anything else? I should probably head out."

  "Yes," said Mei. "Jerome wants you to check in on Tawny."

  "Seriously?" I groaned. "He hates me."

  The demonesses neither confirmed nor denied this statement.

  "See you around, Georgina," said Grace.

  "We'll check in," said Mei.

  They vanished.

  With a heavy heart, I finished my packing and told Aubrey good-bye. Then I lugged my suitcase down to my Passat, off to play Mata Hari. I just hoped my end would be better than hers.

  Once you clear Everett, a naval city just north of Seattle, the drive up to Canada is pretty easy. The speed limit goes up, and the most exciting attractions along the way are casinos and outlet malls. About a half-hour from the border, I reached Bellingham, the current residence of Tawny Johnson.

  Tawny was a succubus, a very new succubus. Technically, I was her mentor, but her assignment in Bellingham mercifully limited our interactions. She'd come to Seattle back in December and had gotten involved with an imp named Niphon who'd been trying to make my life more of a living hell than it already was. He'd roped her into his plans, and as angry as I'd been about it, I knew the fault was his more than hers. She hadn't really known what she was doing and had been convinced he could help fast-track her career. Nonetheless, she'd gotten in enough trouble that Jerome had sent her out of the city. It was better than being sent back to Hell, so really, the arrangement suited all of us just fine.

  I gave her a call, and we met up at a café just off I-5. Tawny was easy to spot when she entered the place. Despite the fact that Tawny had been kind of a con artist when she was a mortal-a profession you'd think would lend itself well to succubus work-she was actually pretty horrible at seduction. Oh, she could still get guys to sleep with her, but it was more thanks to her availability rather than any particular wiles on her part. In particular, she was convinced that the most alluring form she could take was that of a six-foot blonde with breasts that would have given a human a back injury. Tawny also had a penchant for spandex and metallic fabrics that I found disturbing but that delighted Hugh and the vampires to no end. I made a mental note to tell them about the chartreuse hot pants she wore today.