As if reading my thoughts, he headed towards me. My succubus hopped in mad glee, desperate to be united with his incubus demon. But halfway across the room, he stopped and picked up the nearly empty wine bottle. His eyebrows knitted. “Did you drink all of this tonight?”
I gave a guilty shrug.
His concerned frown deepened. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s been a long day,” I said, not wanting to go into details. Especially not with him.
“That’s no excuse. I’ve had plenty of long days, and I never…”
“…you never let it bother you. Yes, I get it. You’re perfect,” I said sourly. I reached for my wineglass, but he moved it out of reach.
“What I was going to say is that I never drink alone. It’s too dangerous. Drinking lowers your inhibitions and gives your demon more control.”
“I’m in control!” I argued.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Really. So why are you undressing?”
To my horror, I realized my demon had taken over my body and stripped off my shirt. My cheeks flaming, I snatched it from the floor and yanked it over my head.
William poured a shot of whiskey into the glass I’d been using. He knocked it back and smiled. “There. Now you’re not drinking alone.” He took a seat on the couch next to me. “Talk to me, Lil. What made this day so wretched?”
Once again, his demon had fled, leaving the real William behind. The one I wished would stick around more often. I sighed, deciding to trust him. “I keep thinking of all the people I’ve hurt since becoming part demon. I’ve done so much harm to my family!”
He shook his head. “Stop wallowing in your guilt, Lil. Wallowing is never good for the likes of us.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I argued. “I can’t just tempt and move on.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to. It’s a matter of survival.”
I looked into his dark, soulful eyes. I was certain I saw pain hidden there. “What about you? Any regrets?”
For a moment, he hesitated, and I thought he’d be honest. But something scared him off, and in a flash, his pompous, egotistical incubus was back. “I regret nothing.” He smiled lasciviously. “Now, let’s get back to the reason you called me here.”
I was about to argue that I wasn’t the one who’d called him, but when he moved closer, the words died in my mouth. He smelled delicious, and my fingertips tingled at the prospect of running them down his chest. What difference did it make if William and I weren’t a couple? I’d had a hell of a night, and if a little fun could take the edge off my sorrows, then who was I to hold back?
“Well?” he asked.
Instead of replying, I kissed him. He immediately drew me into his arms, and kissed me back with an urgency that made my heart race. When I murmured approval, he stood and gently tugged my hand, leading me into the bedroom. We laid down on the bed, and he slid my shirt up over my stomach, feathering kisses along the waistband of my shorts. Groaning, I ran my fingers through his thick hair.
This was a good idea, I told my succubus. Nice job.
William unfastened the button on my shorts with one hand and traced the other up and down the inside of my thigh, making the muscles in my lower belly clench.
“Now, isn’t this better than wallowing?” he murmured.
It certainly was. My back arched when his fingers found the delicious spot between my legs. A night of passion was just what the doctor ordered.
But what about the morning after, my conscience asked.
Stop it, I scolded. Don’t overthink this.
That’s what you said when you seduced Tommy, it reminded me.
At the thought of Tommy, the pleasantly fuzzy feeling from the alcohol sharpened into common sense. I clenched William’s hair in my fists, yanking it tight.
“Ow!” He lifted his head and rubbed his scalp. “What was that for?”
“Sorry.” My mind was spinning, but not because of the alcohol. I did want sex with William. More than anything. Then again, sex would never be a panacea. Not for me at any rate. I needed a deeper kind of intimacy.
“William?”
“Hmm?” He’d gone back to his lovemaking by kissing my lower jaw, the stubble on his chin a pleasant friction.
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Live without regrets.”
He moved away and propped himself up on an elbow. “Do you want to talk or make love?”
“Both.”
“Well then, let’s start with the second and move on to the first.”
I pushed him away. “Just tell me how you do it.”
“I’m the perfect incubus, Lilith. I simply know how to keep myself under control at all times.”
I didn’t believe it. “What about when you first started?” I pressed. “Did you make any mistakes then?”
Again, pain flashed in his dark eyes, but he laughed it off. “I was always a ladies’ man. I was seducing women long before I met Helen.”
I believed it. He worked his job like he was born to it.
He traced my lips with his finger. “Don’t worry, Lilith. You’ll learn eventually. It’s just that the learning curve is more difficult for women than for men.”
I stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”
He sighed. “Don’t let your twenty-first century sensibilities mislead you. It’s a known fact. Men are hardier than women.”
“And by hardier, you mean…?”
He rolled onto his back and ran his fingers through his already deliciously mussed-up hair. “Emotionally stronger, okay? More in control of themselves. Not slaves to their emotions.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re on dangerous ground.” Once again, he was arrogant. Arrogant and proud of it!
“Relax. Women have their virtues as well.” He leaned in for another kiss, but I pushed him away.
“And what, pray tell, are a woman’s virtues?”
His face reddened. “Did you call me here in order to argue?”
I was about to tell him that I hadn’t called him at all when an otherworld shimmer of energy brought me up short. When Mr. Clerk called my name from the kitchen, William jumped off me like he’d been burned. I buttoned my shirt and fastened my shorts as footsteps came up the stairs. With a miserable look of disappointment, William disappeared through the otherworld doorway in my bedroom. When Mr. Clerk knocked on my bedroom door, I uttered a cheerful, “Come in.”
That had been far too close for comfort. Not just because Mr. Clerk nearly caught us, but because I’d nearly done something I would have regretted.
Chapter Five
Surprisingly, Mr. Clerk didn’t look much better than I felt. Normally, he was impeccably groomed, but now his white T-shirt was badly wrinkled and there was a coffee stain on his pants.
“Tough afternoon?” I asked.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “Helen won’t leave me alone. I haven’t seen her this worked up about a client in years.” He paused, thinking. “Make that decades.”
“But you scheduled a new appointment?”
He gave a tired smile. “Yes.”
“Let me guess. That time would be now.” Going on an assignment was the last thing I wanted to do, but there was no way to avoid it. In the past six months, one simple rule governed my life: Always do what Miss Spry said.
“Yes. And you’ll need to change.”
“Something backless and sexy?” I asked. “With strappy sandals?”
“No.” Like a magician performing a trick, Mr. Clerk reached behind him and pulled out a large white box topped with a shiny red bow. “I’ve brought you something else.”
Presents always thrilled me. Especially presents wrapped as nicely as this. I tore off the bow and opened the box, expecting a lovely treat from one of my favorite designers. That’s not what I found. “Is this a joke?”
“No joke.”
I held up a pair of jean shorts so small that
they might not have fitted Grace. “These aren’t my size.”
His eyes sparkled. “They will be. Come with me, and I’ll show you something new.”
Because Mr. Clerk claimed that I stank of booze, I showered while he sat on the toilet and shouted advice. I’d objected to him coming into the bathroom – “Boundaries,” I’d reminded him – but he’d rolled his eyes. “Lilith, I promise that you don’t interest me in the least.” Because I’d seen him fawning over William, I knew he wasn’t lying.
“You’ve already approached your client looking like yourself, and if you show up in the same form, it will make him suspicious,” Mr. Clerk said. “You need to look different.”
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and dripping wet. “What do you want me to do?”
“First,” he said, “I want to work on your height.”
“My height?” I laughed. “You’re expecting me to grow taller?”
“No. Shorter.” He looked completely serious. “How tall are you? Five five? Five six?”
“Five six.”
“Okay, see if you can become five foot, two inches.”
I shook my head. “I have no idea how to do that.”
“Your succubus does,” he said. “Trust her.”
The idea of trusting my demon wasn’t comforting, but I complied with a sigh, closing my eyes and ordering my demon to compact my body.
At first, nothing happened. Then I felt a slight buzzing in my joints, followed by an abrupt plunging sensation, like I’d pressed the ‘down’ button on an express elevator. I opened my eyes just in time to see my head lower about five inches.
Mr. Clerk clapped his hands, delighted. “Nicely done!”
I wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at myself. Yes, I’d lost some height, but my weight had remained the same, giving me a nice, round figure. Horrified, I immediately instructed myself to drop twenty pounds. The muscles along my belly and butt pulled tight, momentarily giving me terrific cramps. The results, however, were amazing. Deciding that Mr. Clerk wouldn’t object, I dropped the towel for a really good look. I’d gone from 5’ 6” and 130 pounds to 5’ 2” and 110 pounds. I was nearly as petite as my mother had been.
I put on my robe and then worked on my facial features. I made my nose a little smaller and my lips a little poutier. I opted for a heart-shaped face that made me look like a pixie. I was even able to adjust the length of my hair, making it shorter in order to add to my elfin appearance.
“Wonderful! Even William isn’t that adept,” Mr. Clerk said.
Ha! Take that, William. I narrowed my eyes and smiled, pleased when the pixie in the mirror did the same.
“Are you sure that I have to wear those clothes you brought?” I asked. It seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good new look on a cheap halter and a pair of Daisy Dukes.
“Yes. They’re perfect for tonight.” He made little shooing motions with his hands. “Go ahead. Try them on.”
Grumbling, I pulled on the tight jean shorts and halter top. Even in my shrunken state, the shorts were so tiny they nearly showed off the bottoms of my butt cheeks. And the cotton halter was so poorly made that it wouldn’t sit right on my body no matter how much I tugged on it. “Where did you get this stuff?”
“Not every job requires designer fashions,” he said. “You need to dress like the people you’ll be meeting.”
“I look trashy.”
“Not quite yet, but you will.” And when he told me what I had to do next, I argued with him for nearly ten minutes. He held firm until, at last, I caved in and gave him what he wanted. When my demon finished, I looked over my shoulder in the mirror, chasing my back end like a dog chases its tail as I tried to get a look at my tattoo: a pair of feathery wings with a flowery wreath in the center. It lay far down on my back, just above the low rise of the shorts.
“My very own tramp stamp,” I said. “I feel so special.”
“You look like a tart,” he agreed, “but the man will never recognize you.”
I didn’t even recognize me. The idea was unsettling. Who was I now? Not Lilith Straight, that was for sure.
“Now about tonight,” Mr. Clerk said. “You are to make sure that your client stays at the bar until it closes. Got it?”
“Got it.” Once again, I fought with the tank top, willing it to stay put. “I don’t understand how that’s going to make Miss Spry happy, though.”
Mr. Clerk shook his head. “You’re not seeing the big picture. These little acts may not seem like much, but added together, they can create something darkly wonderful. If a human makes enough wrong decisions or allows more and more breeches in his moral code, his ethics will crumble. I’ve watched saints turn into monsters simply by refusing to listen to a cry for help. One small sin can add fuel to a holocaust.”
Tommy’s face slipped, unbidden, into my mind’s eye. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t gotten into this conversation.
“Lilith, I know what you’re thinking.” I glanced at Mr. Clerk’s reflection in the mirror. “But remember, this is all about free will. Even the Devil doesn’t want an automaton. It’s much more fun to capture someone’s soul when they’re begging you to take it.” He patted my arm and then stood. “We have a lot at stake here, Lilith. I don’t want to pressure you, but this job is very important.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the new me. Looking into the mirror and seeing a total stranger looking back was unsettling. “No pressure. Got it.”
“You can do this,” Mr. Clerk said before he left. “I have faith in you.”
At least one of us did.
Following the directions Mr. Clerk gave me, I passed from one otherworldly corridor to the next until I found myself looking into a redneck roadhouse called The Dirty Duck. Even at eleven o’clock, the place was crowded with Saturday night drinkers. Every table was full, and they were three-deep at the bar. A live band played country music while men and women shuffled through a line dance. There were plenty of cowboy boots and cowboy hats, not to mention John Deere baseball caps. A number of heavy women were stuffed like sausages into the tight casings of their T-shirts. This was not my type of crowd, but at least I’d fit in.
I still had twenty minutes before the window for temptation opened. I’d arrived ahead of schedule in order to soften my client up before the big moment. No way would I fail this time. After a final tug on the cheap halter, I stepped through the barrier that marked the human realm from the supernatural one. Immediately, the band’s music became deafening, and the smell of fried food nearly clogged my arteries. I edged my way through the crowd, peanut shells crunching under my feet, as I looked for my victim.
He sat alone on a corner table, several beer bottles scattered in front of him. He’d dressed up for the evening, wearing new jeans and a leather vest over his T-shirt. He looked unhappy.
Or so I thought until the band finished their song. Several dancers broke away from the lines, and two of them came over to his table. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man, and the other was a curvaceous blonde. She sat on my client’s lap, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. They broke apart just long enough for him to smile and kiss her back.
I stood and stared like a junior-high kid who had watched her first crush ask out her best friend. Why hadn’t anyone thought to mention that my client already had a girlfriend? Suddenly, my night got a whole lot more complicated.
The other man at their table drank his beer and tried very hard not to watch my client and his girl making out like a couple of teens in the back row of a movie theater. He glanced wistfully at the single women sitting at the bar, but didn’t approach any of them. He wasn’t bad-looking, but his long face and large teeth made him miss handsome by a long way. He had nice thick hair, though, and a terrific set of biceps that probably came from hard labor rather than working out at a gym. I wasn’t in the market for a man, but if I had been, I could have done worse than my client’s friend.
Which gave me an idea. If I could
n’t reach my target, I could at least use their third wheel to lever myself inside their cozy circle.
I walked up to the table and leaned over the friend’s shoulder. “Wannna dance?” My succubus threw off charm like she was Tinkerbell with an armful of pixie dust.
“Okay…sure!” He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor.
I was actually a pretty good dancer, but that night, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t make sense of what was going on. The line would zig right, and I’d zag left. When they backed up, I’d go forward instead. Twice, I staggered off the edge of the parquet floor and bumped into one of the tables. Apparently, my inner demon had no sense of rhythm. Either that, or I wasn’t used to the proportions of my new body.
Luckily, my client’s friend wasn’t the best dancer himself. His body flopped around like an inflatable tube man on a used car lot. But the grin on his face told me that he was enjoying himself.
Mercifully, the song ended, and my partner asked if I cared to join him for a drink. I gratefully accepted and was finally able to sit down at my client’s table.
“Looks like you found someone who’s a worse dancer than you are, J.T.,” the woman sitting in my client’s lap said. She winked at me. “No offense.”
I smiled sweetly. “None taken.” Bitch.
J.T. glared at her, obviously not appreciating her comment either. Then, to me, he said, “What can I get you?”
Since I’d already spent much of the night drinking, I asked him for soda water with lime. He disappeared into the crowd.
I reached across the table to shake hands. “My name’s Lilith. Nice to meet you.”
The woman had one of those faces that had aged prematurely, and I bet she was a good fifteen years younger than she looked. Twin lines of blush, much too dark for her complexion, striped her cheeks, and her hair was dark at the roots where her bleach job had grown out. I might have felt sorry for her if not for the comment about my dancing. “I’m Darla,” she said, without bothering to shake my hand. “This is Craig.” My client nodded at me, his expression guarded.
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