“I’ll be right over.”
I found his door unlocked when I arrived and walked inside. “Mitch” stood in the kitchen with his back to me, hands resting on the island, entire posture slumped. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his back.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Me too.”
“The cooking thing didn’t pan out?” I almost laughed at my own pun. God, this ambrosia was great.
“No. Although, I can make a lovely crème brûlée now. I have some in the refrigerator if you want to try it.” He sighed. “But no, it wasn’t working. And you knew that, didn’t you?” He turned around so that we faced each other.
I looked away. “Yeah. But I didn’t want to…I dunno. I hoped, I guess. Hoped it would work out.”
We stood there in silence for a while. No matter how angry I was at him, I hated seeing him like this. Devastated. Defeated.
“Fleur, I want to apologize about that night—”
“No, it’s not all your—”
“Just listen to me first,” he admonished. “There’s something I have to tell you. Something about Seth.”
And then, just like every other time I visited, the doorbell rang. The incubus waved an annoyed hand.
“Leave it.”
“It could be her.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to see her.”
Maybe he was pessimistic, but I’d eaten the Food of the Gods. I felt like I could do anything. I knew I could do anything. My confidence and cleverness knew no bounds. I had created a new tradition at Emerald City in a matter of hours. Surely I could still find some last glimmer of hope for Bastien if I had a chance to speak to Dana face-to-face.
“There still might be a way,” I told him as I walked to the door. “Go invisible if you want. I want to talk to her.”
“If it’s even her,” he called after me.
But it was her.
“Tabitha.” She smiled. “I thought I saw you come in.”
I returned her smile with my own. A dazzling one. I wasn’t going to be shy and idiotic around her anymore. I should never have been that way under normal conditions, let alone now, when I was at my finest.
“I’m so glad you could stop by,” I told her, warmth oozing out of every pore. I beckoned her in as though I lived there. As much as she saw me over there, I might as well have. “Please, come inside. Let me get you something to drink.”
For the first time, I saw Dana off guard. I was not the Tabitha she knew, and she didn’t know how to handle it.
Bastien stood in the kitchen, invisible, arms crossed defiantly over his chest. I winked at him and then turned back to Dana.
“Mitch is out for a while, if you wanted to see him.”
“Oh. That’s fine. I can, um, stay for a little while…I guess.”
She seemed unnerved by my control of the situation. I poured us both iced tea, and we sat down at the table. I led us into conversation about our days, telling her about an awesome charity event I’d been to at a downtown bookstore. Dana recovered some of her composure and returned to her smooth and controlled self. Her bigoted nature aside, the woman could manage a decent conversation, and we clicked. Too bad she didn’t channel her intelligence into more useful areas, I thought.
As we talked about assorted things, the solution to the whole Dana situation struck me—it was so obvious. I don’t know if it was the ambrosia or not, but I couldn’t believe how blind we’d all been. How had none of us figured out the problem with her? What kind of seduction experts were we? Bastien was right. Dana was a lost cause.
For him.
“Dana,” I interrupted in a most un-Tabitha way, “I’m really glad you came over tonight because there’s something I’ve needed to ask you.”
She choked on her tea. “Yes?”
I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hands so I could have solid eye contact. “You said a little while ago that you and Bill had lost the romance and that you didn’t care. But you know what? I don’t believe that. I think you miss it. I think you crave it. But not with him.”
Dana’s face went pale, eyes wide. Bastien, standing nearby, wore a similar look. I didn’t care. We had nothing to lose at this point.
“Am I right?” I leaned closer. “There is something missing, isn’t there? And you were lying about not knowing what’s sexy. You know. You know what turns you on, and you want it. You want it so bad, you can taste it.”
I swear, you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Dana worked forcibly to control her breathing, staring and staring at me as though I might vanish if she blinked.
“Yes,” she finally croaked. “You’ve been right about a lot of things. Like how we can’t choose who we want. And yes…I think we both know what I’m talking about, Tabitha.” Some of her old confidence began to return. “At first, I wasn’t sure. You were so hard to read. But then, after I saw how awkward things were with you and your boyfriend—how you never wanted to talk about him and said you weren’t attracted to him—I knew for sure. That little lingerie show you put on for me cinched it. You were amazing. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’d already seen you naked in the hot tub, and that had been agonizing enough. I had to see you naked again. And then, as I talked to you more, I realized you were intelligent too. Just like tonight.” She took a deep, quaking breath and reached out her hand to cover mine, fingers slowly dancing along my skin. “You’re right. I do want something. So bad I can taste it. I know it’s wrong, and I know it’s immoral, but I can’t help myself. I can’t help who I want. Can’t help wanting you.”
No wonder Bastien hadn’t been able to close the deal. Dana had wanted me. Probably from the moment I stepped out of the pool in that skimpy bathing suit. Staring at her, I thought about all the horrible things her group did. I also thought about Bastien being tortured by some demon. In some cases, being immortal wasn’t always a blessing. Now, I could save him from that fate and send a little payback to the CPFV.
I smiled back at Dana, letting my body language speak for me as the tension mounted. I admit, I was a little surprised that all of my previous encounters had been read as advances on her, but well, whatever. The invisible incubus had run out of the room somewhere around “I had to see you naked again.” He returned now, wielding the video camera. Seeing my calculated silence, he waved the camera at me frantically, glee all over his face.
I held the power now to change everything. The power to achieve what Bastien had been fighting for. To save him and humiliate the CPFV. If I could just pull this off. The ambrosia had proved today that my strongest talents lay in improvisation and planning, the ability to multitask and solve problems. That was great. It made me feel better about myself than I had in a while. It was probably what had led me to realize the truth about Dana too. But what about my earlier musings about the ambrosia? In regard to sex? Was my sexual prowess still a key part of me? Had the ambrosia enhanced that too? Could I rock some man—or woman—in bed? Looking at Dana and her now-obvious lust, I knew the answer. I gave a sultry laugh and jauntily brushed my hair out of my face.
I could and would rock her world. I was a team player, after all. For both teams.
Squeezing her hand, I moved toward her.
“I feel exactly the same way.”
Chapter 22
The waiter brought me another gimlet just as I finished my last one. Good man, I thought. He deserved an ample tip.
Four days after the Emerald Lit Fest, I sat in the Cellar with Jerome, Carter, Hugh, Peter, Cody, and Bastien. The usual suspects. It was the first time I’d seen any of them in days. I’d been keeping a low profile, essentially only leaving my home to go to work and back.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Seth in that time either.
None of us spoke. We just sat there in the dark, nursing drinks. Other people in the pub moved around and laughed, but we were a corner of silence. I could have sliced and diced the awkward tens
ion among us. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I sighed.
“All right,” I snapped. “You can stop pretending. I know you’ve all seen the video.”
It was like letting the air out of a balloon. An opening of the floodgates.
Hugh spoke first, admiration shining in his eyes. “Jesus Christ, that was the absolute best thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ve seen it, like, ten times,” added Peter. “And it doesn’t get old.”
Cody’s delighted look spoke for itself.
I took down half of my drink in one gulp. “Sometimes I look around, and I can’t believe this is my life.”
Bastien had done an Oscar-worthy job of capturing my romantic escapade with Dana on film. She had never noticed the disembodied camera floating around; only the incubus had actually been invisible. Of course, Dana had been too preoccupied to really notice much. I’d made sure of that, and while I felt a certain amount of glee over my powers of pleasure and distraction, my post-ambrosia self still didn’t like having that prowess put on display any more than I’d liked Seth’s story being linked to me. At least no one knew who Tabitha Hunter was.
“Fleur, I swear you did things I didn’t even know about,” teased Bastien.
“Oh, be quiet,” I told him, knowing he lied. “This whole thing is embarrassing enough. I can’t believe you had it all over the Internet in a matter of hours.”
He shrugged. “Good news is hard to keep to yourself.”
Jerome’s eyes gleamed with subdued satisfaction. “No need to be embarrassed. What you did is laurel-worthy, Georgie. You’ll be Succubus of the Year now.”
“Great,” I said. “Maybe that comes with coupons that haven’t expired.”
“Joke all you want,” continued the demon, “but you’ve caused havoc in a powerful religious group. That is definitely worth celebrating.”
So much so that Bastien was probably off the hook. True, he hadn’t been in the spotlight, but I’d made sure that Jerome played up his role in the official written report. I think the demon knew I’d gone a little overboard in crediting Bastien for his assistance in this caper, but he hadn’t dwelt on the technicalities. Regardless of what the paperwork said, the diabolical community knew it was Jerome’s succubus in the extremely popular video. My boss’s reputation had gone through the roof.
As for the CPFV…well, yes, it was most definitely in chaos. Dana had resigned as soon as the scandal went public. Suddenly missing their strong leader, the group had collapsed into confusion, flailing about with no clear direction. Poor Bill. In addition to the embarrassment of a philandering wife, he now had to do damage control and still maintain his strong stance on family values for the sake of his political career. Reelections were next year; no one knew how he’d fare.
I had mixed feelings about the whole matter. Sure, I hated the CPFV’s horrible actions and was glad to see them go down. But Dana, despite her many flaws, had cared about Tabitha. It might not have been love, but the emotions were genuine. She’d opened herself up to me, and I’d made a mockery of it. Even if she managed to wade out of this mess, she’d probably never accept her sexual inclinations again. She’d bury them, continuing a campaign of homosexual intolerance. That bothered me, for the sake of both her personal and her political lives.
“And when not taking down conservative bitches,” noted Hugh, “she destroys gods in her free time. Did you really beat up that kid too? You’re, like, a size four.”
“Don’t forget about the Emerald Lit Fest.” Cody grinned mischievously. “Man, I can’t believe I missed that.”
“Is there anything you don’t do, Georgina?” marveled Peter. “You haven’t been learning to cook soufflés behind my back, have you?”
I rolled my eyes and turned to the greater immortals, ignoring my friends’ over-the-top praise. “Are you finally going to tell me the whole story on Sol, or whoever he was? You guys have been terribly laissez-faire about me killing a god.”
“You know most of the details,” Carter told me.
“And you didn’t technically kill him,” added Jerome.
I started. “I didn’t? But…he exploded. There was blood everywhere. That seems kind of, I don’t know, final.”
“You destroyed his human manifestation,” explained the angel in an almost bored way. “The body he used to walk the mortal world. Sol—or Soma as he’s accurately called—still very much exists.”
“Soma’s another name for ambrosia…” I began slowly.
“Yes,” Carter agreed. “In Hindu spirituality, the god Soma is the divine embodiment of the drug. It runs in his veins and is then distributed to mortals.”
I remembered his bleeding wrist and how his blood had dried. “His blood forms the crystals that make the ambrosia. That’s what everyone was drinking. That’s what I drank!” I shuddered.
“You also drank it in its pure form,” noted Jerome, watching for my reaction, “straight from the source.”
“Oh Lord,” I realized. “The goblet. I thought it was some sort of date-rape drug.”
“In some ways it was,” Carter told me gently. “His blood, in its crystal form, serves as a self-enhancement that can be tolerated by mortals—and immortals—because it’s diluted. In its concentrated form, it’s too much to handle. It’s disorienting. It goes beyond amplification of skills. It overloads the system, making you feel insanely good and susceptible to physical touch and strong emotion.”
Hence my reaction to his advances—and subsequent attack on Alec. Of course, I was still so mad at the former drummer that I half believed my actions wouldn’t have been any different sans ambrosia.
“That’s so disgusting,” I muttered. “I drank blood. Gross.”
Cody and Peter exchanged glances. They grinned.
“What was the deal with that dart thing?” asked Hugh. “The thing she impaled him with.”
“Mistletoe. It guards the gateway between worlds. The Norse always said it grew on the Tree of Life—the tree that holds the world.”
I frowned. “So, if he’s just lost his physical body, then he’s not really gone.”
“He’s never gone,” said Carter. “The Food of the Gods is always around—or at least some concept of it. Mortals always have and will continue to believe and pray for some magical cure-all that will change their lives. That’s why he still has so much power, despite most not knowing who he is. People don’t always have to know what they’re worshipping or believing in to still grant it power.”
“But, when he pops back down to this plane next time, he’ll probably hole up somewhere else,” said Jerome more practically. “If Carter or I had done anything, it would have been an open declaration of war. Innocent Georgie’s desperate defense sent a charming get-the-fuck-out message that didn’t get any of us in trouble. It only required a small report.” He made a face; the demon hated paperwork.
I sighed. “Okay then. One last question. Why the sex? Why go to all that trouble to get Alex to procure victims?”
“Who doesn’t want sex?” asked Hugh.
“The stories do resound with his lechery, actually,” said Carter. “One myth even talks about him carrying off some god’s wife because he just wanted her that badly. When you’re a being of euphoria and ultimate physical prowess, I guess sex sort of goes with it. So I’ve heard, anyway.”
I scowled. “And he was too lazy to even get the victims himself. What a bastard.”
“He’s a god,” said Carter, as though there were nothing more to add.
I turned to the angel, thinking about what he’d said. “You’ve been a veritable wealth of knowledge today. But doesn’t it bother anyone else that we’re openly discussing and accepting, what, three different spiritual systems here? Hindu and Norse—plus ours. Which I always thought was the true one, by the way.”
Jerome looked genuinely delighted. “Come now, you’ve rubbed shoulders with immortals from all sorts of ‘spiritual systems’ since the beginning of your succubus existence.”
“Yeah, I know…but I never thought about the logistics too hard. I thought we were all disparate—remember? They do their thing, we do ours? Now you’re mixing it up like…like…we’re all doing the same thing.”
“Yeah,” said Cody. “Which one’s right?”
Angel and demon shared smirks.
“‘What is truth?’ Pilate asked.” Carter just couldn’t stay away from his quotes. His eyes held barely contained laughter.
I sighed again, knowing we’d get no better answer from either of them.
As our evening get-together wound down, Bastien unhappily declared he had to leave for Detroit. He made his farewells to the others, and then I walked him out.
We stood outside the pub, wrapped in our own thoughts as locals and tourists alike moved through Pioneer Square. Finally, at the same time, we spoke.
“Fleur—”
“Bastien—”
“No, let me go first,” he said adamantly. I nodded for him to go on. “What I did at the hotel wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have led you into that—especially when you told me right off not to. And what I said to Seth at your place…that was unforgivable. Yeah, I was pretty sloshed, but that’s no excuse. Not by a long shot.”
I shook my head. “God knows I’ve done a lot of stupid things while drunk. And people, for that matter. But don’t beat yourself up too bad—at least not over what happened…uh, between us. You were right. I wasn’t a victim; I went along with that. I made my own choices, choices that I have to deal with.”
“It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t forgive me. Especially after you saved me on the Dana thing. You figured out what I’d been too blind to see. No, I’m definitely beyond forgiveness.”
“Maybe. But I’m going to forgive you anyway.” I gave him a playful punch. “And you can’t stop me.”
“Only a fool would stand in your way,” he said gallantly. “But I still don’t think I deserve it.”
“Bas, I’ve seen people come and go for over a thousand years. Hell, I’ve seen civilizations come and go. I don’t have many constants in my life. None of us do. I don’t want to write off one of the best ones I’ve got.”
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