The Deal: Reverse Harem Serial (Succubus Bargain Book 2)

by L. L. Frost

  SUCCUBUS BARGAIN: THE DEAL

  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

  Succubus Bargain

  The Offer

  The Deal

  The Terms (Coming Soon)

  Table of Contents

  Persona Non Grata

  Swan Diving

  (un)Expected

  The Deal

  About the Author

  Persona Non Grata

  I slam open the door to HelloHell Delivery. “Julian! Get your vinyl covered ass out here, right now!”

  Around the office, heads pop up from over cubicle walls, hands-free microphones hanging from their ears. The scent of demonic ozone hangs heavy in the air and skates across my skin like tiny sparklers.

  Eyes narrowed, I search for the telltale white curls of my cousin. A flicker of light catches my attention. In the back of the room, a frosted glass door displays the word management in gold foil across the front. The office beyond lies suspiciously dark.

  As I march toward the door, the pink eviction notice crinkles in one fist. Whispers mark my passing, followed by a frantic shuffle. A low-level demon stumbles into the aisle, arms out to catch himself.

  The coworkers who pushed him out in front of me duck back into hiding, little mice scurrying away from a hungry cat.

  I shake my head to drop my sunglasses low on my nose and stare at him over the brim. “Move. Now.”

  He hunches lower, staring at me from the corner of his eye. “Boss isn’t in right now, ma’am.”

  “The hell he isn’t.” Through the frosted glass, a darker blur with a hint of red at waist height stands out against the darkness. “Julian, get out here this minute!”

  The fuzzy figure darts away from the door.

  “P-please, he’s not here,” the cowering demon insists. “If you’d like to leave a message—”

  He stutters to a stop as I lean closer to him, nostrils flaring. He smells like baby powder and mud. Mischief demon. Good for hiding car keys and left socks.

  My lip curls with distaste. “Do you want me to eat you, little man? There’s a hole in my belly that needs to be filled.”

  “Please don’t!” He squeaks, crouching lower. “I only just got to the human plane.”

  Guilt and self-disgust slice through me. While my cousins enjoy tormenting lower life forms, it’s never been a hobby of mine. His fear sours the air and rolls in my stomach, making me nauseous.

  But the threat had the desired effect. I step around his cowering form and storm to the office. How dare Julian not come out instantly to defend his employee.

  The doorknob resists my first effort to turn it. Through the door, I hear the scurry of footsteps and a thud.

  Spindling out a precious line of energy, I twist it harder, snapping the flimsy lock. My apartment has a code for entry to avoid people entering without my approval. It’s a far better locking system. Or, at least it was. Before it was turned against me, locking me out of my own home.

  When I throw the door open, the glass rattles in the frame. I pat the wall until I find the light switch.

  Julian blinks from his place at the desk on the left side of the room, his feet propped up on his cherry oak surface. “Oh, darling, when did you get here?”

  Ignoring his pretense, I wave the pink piece of paper at him. “What the hell is this, Julian?”

  His blue eyes dart to my hand, and his mouth forms a moue. “Well, I’d think it was obvious. You didn’t need to come all the way down here just for that.”

  “You kept declining my calls!”

  “Yes, I wasn’t being subtle.” One white eyebrow arches. “Take a hint, darling.”

  Annoyed, I march forward and toss the crumpled piece of paper on the desk. “This is bullshit. You already cashed my check for this month.”

  “Well, darling, here’s the thing.” His feet drop to the ground with a thud as he smooths out the paper to show the bold writing on the front that reads Eviction Notice. “You broke the law, so I really had no choice. I have bosses, too, you know.”

  My mouth drops open in shock, and I snap my teeth closed. “What law?”

  “I wasn’t told.” With one long finger, he nudges the offensive notice back toward me. “The order came this morning from higher up.”

  My heart lurches. What could I have done to the higher ups? I lean my hands on the desk for support, gaze focused on my cousin. “Julian, that’s my home. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You better find out who you pissed off, darling, and find out fast.” He stands and walks around the desk, red vinyl short-shorts creaking. His fingers curl around my shoulder to turn me around. “But in the meantime, you can’t be here.”

  “What are you talking about?” I stumble as he propels me toward the door.

  “You’re persona non grata right now.” His hand shifts to between my shoulder blades to hurry me along. “I can’t be seen with you. I have a business to consider. Employees that rely on me.”

  I dig in my heels. “Like you care about your employees.”

  “Well, of course I do.” With a grunt, he pushes against me. “They make me money.”

  I grab onto the doorframe. “What about my stuff?”

  “It’s going on auction in three days.” His shoulder digs into my back, and he forces me out the door.

  “Oh, is that little Adie?” A syrupy voice coos from the front of the office.

  Julian and I freeze, heads swiveling in unison. A woman stands next to the first cubical in the room, the cowardly demon from earlier tucked against one voluptuous breast. White hair flows straight past her shoulders, the tips crimson red.

  “Cassandra,” Julian growls, his body stiffening against mine. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  She licks bright red lips. “I thought I’d pop in for a bite, see how my cousin is doing.”

  “Just fine, thank you for coming.” Julian launches into action, latching onto my arm and dragging me toward another exit in the back. The door, painted the same dull beige as the rest of the office, blends into the wall.

  I hunch my shoulders, suddenly eager to be gone. Cousin Cassandra likes to meddle, and I already have enough on my plate.

  “Why the hurry?” She purrs as she stalks forward, dragging the poor demon with her. “I haven’t seen little Adie in over a year.”

  “And you’re not seeing her now.” Julian waves his hands in front of me in a weaving pattern. “This is a figment of your over-sexed imagination.”

  “No such thing as over-sexed.” Her orange eyes fix on me. “I heard the most delicious rumor on the way over here.”

  “What rumor?” I demand, the need to know overriding my instincts for self-preservation.

  “No. No talking.” Julian reaches past me to push open the emergency exit and shoves me through.

  I stumble and spin around. �
�Wait!”

  “Solve your own problem, darling,” he hisses before the door slams in my face.

  Dumbfounded, I stare at the smooth surface, devoid of handle. Damn one-way door. I kick the door in frustration, then swear as it dents the point on my high-heeled shoe.

  “Damn you, Julian!” I pound on the door instead, the solid metal hard against my fist. “Give me back my apartment!”

  The concrete walls of the stairwell echoes my pathetic voice back at me. For a moment, my knees tremble with the urge to collapse. After the day I’ve had, I deserve a nice pity party.

  I planned to do just that when I got home. The bottle of wine I set aside to celebrate my loan could just as easily have helped me drown the sense of hopelessness left by my meeting with K&B Financial.

  Tobias Braxton’s smug face pops to the forefront of my mind, followed closely by the haughty expression of Emil König. Could they be responsible for this recent turn of events?

  I replay the meeting, searching my memory for any small laps in my behavior that could have broken a law, no matter how small, in the demon world. With the exception of a few curse words, I left there with less than I took with me. Our meeting ended with the balance in their favor, however little my cupcake bouquet was worth.

  It taunts me, though, a flutter at the back of my mind that tells me there’s a link. Their demand I move in with them aligns too conveniently with my sudden need for a home.

  Steeling my spine with determination, I hurry down the stairs to the ground floor and exit into the alley between two business buildings. My old sedan waits at the curb, haphazardly parked with the front passenger tire up on the curb. I’m in luck; I didn’t get towed while I was inside.

  My arm itches, a reminder of my earlier encounter with the meter-maid. I so don’t need another one of those run-ins this week. I need some alone time with a bottle of rubbing alcohol to eradicate the phone number she wrote on my forearm with permanent marker.

  I dig the keys out of my skirt pocket and unlock the driver’s side door. As I slide inside, I glance at my briefcase in the passenger seat and freeze. A thick stack of paper stamped with the K&B Financial logo rests neatly on top of the black leather case.

  Eyes narrowed, I snatch it up, climb back out of the car, and stomp to the nearest trashcan on the sidewalk, shoving the contract inside. I stare at it, fists opening and closing with frustration.

  Yeah, they definitely have something to do with my current situation. I just need to figure out how they managed to do this. If someone is claiming I broke a law, then they would have had to file a claim against me. Which means all I need to do is go to the claims office to find out what law K&B Financial says I broke.

  Then I can file a counter claim for harassment.

  I smile as I turn back to my car. If they want to play this game, then so be it.

  ***

  “Now serving number five hundred and twenty-two,” the woman at the front desk speaks into the microphone, her monotone voice blaring across the large waiting room. Her impassive gaze travels over the sea of demons, each waiting for their number to come up. When no one immediately leaps from their seat, she presses the microphone button once more and sighs heavily into it. “Now serving number five hundred and twenty-two. Number five hundred and twenty-two.”

  I double check the ticket in my hand, just in case. Five hundred and twenty-four. Nope, not me. After four hours of waiting, I’m ready to call it a day. My ass hurts from the hard seat, my shoulders and neck stiff beyond belief. Unfortunately, I have nowhere else to go.

  “Now serving number five hundred and twenty-three.”

  Three rows up, a lava demon lurches to his feet, charcoal black skin cracked to reveal the molten red glow beneath. The blue plastic chair sticks to his backside, and he peels it off, setting the misshapen piece of furniture back in place before he lumbers toward the front where a clerk waits, safely barricaded behind a think plate of glass reinforced by metal bars.

  Overhead, the number on the reader board changes with a loud click. As the front desk lady resumes her seat, the overhead music comes back on, an even drone of piano that loops every five minutes.

  Hell truly is the waiting room of a bureaucratic office.

  My neighbor shifts uncomfortably in his seat and huffs with aggravation. His breath wafts over me, smelling of red licorice, and it makes my stomach rumble. While demons don’t require as much food as humans do, we still need to give our corporeal forms sustenance. For every hour I go hungry, my body takes more of the energy in my belly.

  My gaze shifts from the ticket in my hand to the half eaten box of candy in my neighbor’s lap. He reaches into the open wrapper and pulls out a red rope, bringing it to his lips. Saliva floods my mouth as I watch him take a bite. He smiles at me, extending the box in my direction.

  With a shake of my head, I force myself to look away. I have nothing to trade for it.

  He leans closer, bringing with him the ambiguous allure of red dye 40 and corn syrup. “What are you here for?”

  “I need to look someone up on the registry,” I respond, not really lying but not telling the whole truth, either. “What about you?”

  “Filing a transfer.” He taps the box of candy against an envelope that sticks out of his coat pocket. “Wife wants to move north.”

  “Oh? How long have you been married?” Demon’s don’t often participate in the human practice of marriage.

  Long lives tend to make people twitchy at the idea of being locked together for centuries. Unlike humans, demons take their contracts seriously. Nothing short of murder will break a marriage bond, and most demons don’t want to pay the blood price for killing one of our own. Destroying a corporeal body is one thing, but snuffing out another demon’s life force…

  “Going on two centuries now. We have twenty imps.” He reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. With a proud smile, he opens it and a long line of pictures unfolds, the bottom of it hitting the floor and continuing to extend. He points to a grey blob with horns. “This one here is Imperial Rex—”

  “Now serving number five hundred and twenty-four.”

  I leap from my seat and stumble as the blood rushes back to my legs. “That’s me!”

  With a brief wave, I pick my way to the main aisle, careful not to step on the imp pictures, and head for the front desk. Every step feels like a hundred needles as my feet come back to life. As soon as I sort this mess out, these heels need to go in the trash. Never again, female torture devices.

  “I’m number five hundred and twenty-four.” I shove my ticket across the desk as proof, and the woman stares down at it for one long moment.

  With a slow blink, her gaze shifts to me. “Go to window three.”

  I bob my head and hurry to the clerk’s desk with a large, bronze number three on the front.

  The woman stares at me from behind her protective barrier. “How may I help you?”

  I crouch to put my mouth close to the narrow opening between the desk and the sheet of glass. “A complaint was filed against me, today. I’d like to know what my offense is.”

  She taps at her keyboard. “Name?”

  “Adeline Pond.”

  “Middle name?”

  Heat fills my cheeks as I whisper, “Boo.”

  She doesn’t even blink at the weird middle name Landon, my mentor, cursed me with during one of his animated movie binges.

  After a moment more of typing, she taps her screen. “Adeline Boo Pond is charged with energy poaching in Kellen Maximus Cassius’s territory to the equivalent of one human…”

  A buzz fills my ears, drowning out the rest of her words. That asshole, he really did it. He actually filed a claim against me for skimming energy at his club last night.

  Swan Diving

  My tires chirp as I slam to a stop in front of the night club. Overhead, in neon, the word Fulcrum slants upward with a line under it, as if on a teeter totter. The windows below flash as the strobe lights inside alt
ernate between on and off. Like last night, a line forms at the door.

  I climb out, tugging my now wrinkled skirt into place over my knees. My formal business suit stands out among the scantily clad humans ready to get their grind on. I might as well paint loser across my forehead. I stride toward the bouncer at the front entrance, keeping the wince off my face as every step drives spikes of pain into my feet.

  “Sorry, toots.” The bouncer’s arm blocks my path as he stares down at me in disbelief. “You’re not getting in tonight looking like that.”

  Annoyed, I yank open the buttons on my blouse to expose my neon blue bra beneath. “How about now?”

  He stares at the milky swell of my breasts, the nipples darker shadows through the bright lace. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, I can dig the dirty secretary look.”

  I pat his large chest and stare up at him, careful to keep my powers restrained. My sunglasses remain in the cup holder in my car, and I don’t want to risk losing any more energy right now. “Then come find me when your shift ends, yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.” His arm drops away.

  The couple at the front of the line scowl at me, the woman yelling, “Hey, why does she get to cut?”

  “Because her tits are amazing.” The bouncer takes one more second to stare before he waves me inside.

  “If I show you my boobs, can we speed this up?” The woman’s angry voice demands as I walk through the door.

  “I can see them from here. They’re not getting you inside.”

  “How dare you!”

  The throbbing music drowns them out as I push through the people who loiter in the hall, most with cell phones pressed to one ear and a hand to the other in a desperate attempt to make a phone call without leaving the premises. One leather clad man shouts into his phone, his face red from either anger or overheating. Leather doesn’t breathe very well. Even the shiny fake stuff that hugs his skinny legs.