He closed his eyes. “A female demon,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You’re a demon!” I’ll admit I may have slightly shrieked this.
“A succubus is a female demon that can seduce men.”
“And?” Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.
“An incubus is essentially a male succubus.”
Dammit. “You are a demon,” I whispered, turning and fleeing further into my condo.
Alex followed. “Please, Catherine, hear me out. It’s not what you think.”
I had reached my dining room table and sat in a chair. Supernatural beings. I leaned forward to put my head between my legs. Vampires, werewolves, naiads. I took deep breaths and willed myself not to pass out. An incubus, a demon. I felt a panic attack coming on, something that hadn’t happened in a decade.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alex pulled a chair close to me and sat. He was careful not to touch me, I noticed. “Catherine? Are you okay?”
I sat up so abruptly, our heads nearly collided. “Am I okay? Am I okay?” My voice rose a notch with each question. I stopped and regained control of myself. “Continue.”
“Yes, an incubus is a demon. I am a half-incubus. My mother was a human seduced by an incubus. Normally children don’t result from these unions, but,” he shrugged, “I’m here.”
“Yes, you are.”
This time Alex remained silent.
“You seduce women?”
“Um, I can actually seduce women or men; it’s not necessarily a sexual thing.”
I smirked when a blush spread across his face.
“Wait. How does that work? Have you seduced me? Is that why I find you so attractive?” I stared at him incredulously.
He grinned wickedly at those questions. “Not at all, Catherine. I swear to you that I have not seduced you – at least not in that way. Though I’d still like to explore—”
That was not fully true and a knot formed in my stomach. “Not yet,” I stopped him and he obliged. “How does it work?”
“The seduction, simply by proximity. Pheromones, I suppose.”
I nodded. That seemed reasonable. You know, given the topic.
“To make irresistible suggestions to other people, I inhale a tiny amount of the other person’s soul.”
“That’s the white mist I saw?”
“Yes.”
“Wait. You inhale part of their soul?”
“Yes.”
I felt the blood draining from my face. He inhaled their souls. “It is you, killing the women!”
“Rumors of the deadliness of my abilities have been greatly exaggerated,” he quipped.
“How can you joke about this?”
Immediately contrite, he explained. “I rarely use my abilities, and when I do, it’s only the smallest amount of soul necessary to achieve the desired results.”
“You sound so clinical.”
“Sorry.”
I waved off the apology. “You said you rarely use your abilities. When do you?”
“Mostly if I need to calm someone down.”
“Like Michael Onyx outside the restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never used them to harm anyone?”
“If you’re asking if I’ve ever killed anyone, I can’t say that.” I inhaled sharply and he hurried to continue. “I didn’t always know how to use my abilities safely. But, I have never taken deliberate advantage of anyone. And I didn’t kill those four women.”
I noticed his careful word choice. I still found myself sympathizing. What he said was true; and how would I handle it if I learned I could suck souls and control people? I’d struggled with feeling like a freak when I found out I could tell if someone was being truthful.
“It seems that sucking out someone’s soul would be bad even if you didn’t kill them. Does it,” I struggled for the right word, “grow back or regenerate?”
Alex chuckled. “Yes, it replenishes. Think of it like the liver,” he explained. “You can lose some—”
“Like from drinking alcohol?”
“I was thinking more like from trauma, but probably,” he answered with a smile. “The development of new cells will continue; the soul is somewhat like that.”
I hesitated, considering the logic in the analogy. “Okay,” I finally said.
“Okay?”
“I believe you.”
His jaw dropped. “Really? All of it?”
“Yep.”
“You accepted that quicker than I thought you would.”
“You’re not the only one who’s different,” I said with a shrug. He started to respond and I cut him off, my turn to deflect. “When I was 18, I adopted a cat who was the reincarnation of my mother,” I explained. As if on cue, a small meow came from under my bed.
“Of course, you did,” he responded without missing a beat.
“I’ll tell you that story another time. For now, let’s stick with you,” I brought us back to the subject at hand. “Are there many of you? Incubuses? Incubi? How would you say it?” Even while I uttered the inane questions, part of me knew I was stalling. This wasn’t lost on Alex.
“It’s okay, Catherine. Despite adopting your mother as a cat,” he paused with a slight shake of his head, “I know this is a lot to take in.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it kind of is.”
“Michael is another incubus in town. I believe he’s the one responsible for the deaths of those actresses. You were absolutely right, Catherine. If an incubus sucks out too much of someone’s soul, they die. The death typically resembles a heart attack. Like with the women. That’s what Michael and I were arguing about when you saw us. I withdrew a bit of his soul to calm him down—”
“You can use your ability on another incubus?”
“Yes. We prefer not to.”
“It’s like a code of honor?”
He grinned. “Something like that. Anyway, I was planning to ask additional questions, and then I saw you.” He smiled warmly. Our eyes met and I felt a flush of attraction. “A beautiful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.” His smile fell. “I was terrified of what you had seen and would think.”
“Oh, Alex.” I couldn’t help myself. I reached out to take his hands in my own. We sat silently for a few moments, me trying to offer some degree of comfort, knowing I couldn’t until the real murderer was caught. I knew I mustn’t forget that the police still thought Alex was the killer.
Alex broke contact, removing his hands and averting his gaze. “I wasn’t able to get the full information.” Back to business. “I can’t tell if he has less control of his abilities, or less desire to control them.”
I shuddered. “He’s either inept or a serial killer. I don’t like those choices.”
“Neither do I.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We?”
“Yes, Alex. We. I’m in this with you all the way.”
He smiled so happily that, sappy as it sounded, I felt bathed in sunlight. “You are absolutely amazing, Catherine.”
I blushed furiously, heat radiating through my neck and face. I tried to change the subject back to problem-solving. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Any ideas?”
“Not right now. Let’s think about it, maybe meet tomorrow morning at my office to discuss options?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Our plan for the moment decided, we found that now we were sitting inches apart, staring at each other, attraction still chugging along, and completely uncertain what to do. I stood and he followed suit. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Absolutely.”
I walked toward the door, Alex following. Although he glanced away, he wasn’t fast enough for me to miss the look of disappointment on his face.
“Schemi
ng starts tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow for sure,” Alex agreed. He smiled sexily and then sashayed toward the elevator. I laughed at the display, closed the door, and headed to the bathroom for a cold shower.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sifting through snail mail and email in my office, waiting for Alex, I wanted to crawl out of my skin. There had to be something I could do to help. I identified two options: prove Alex’s innocence to the detective or prove that someone else was guilty. I made a mental note to review timelines and Alex’s alibis for the nights the four women died (well, three, since I mostly already knew where Alex was when number four died).
What could Alex and I do to prove Michael was the murderer? If he really was. I’d need to talk more with Alex about why he believed Michael was the killer. Surely, it’s more than he’s also an incubus. We never really got to that last night.
Last night. I flushed slightly thinking about being so close to Alex, longing to touch him, kiss him. Sigh. I needed to focus.
And then I saw it. A gift from the email gods:
From: Mia Fynn, Producer
Subject: Calling all creatives
Don’t miss the masquerade ball this Saturday beginning at 8 p.m. and lasting until…the final person goes home. Whether you’re in front of the camera or guiding from behind it, this masked ball is the place to see and be seen Saturday night in Las Vegas. At a location to be texted the afternoon of the ball to everyone who RSVPs…don’t miss what is sure to be the event of the season.
Mia’s name and description were all I needed to see. One, it’s a masked ball. Hello? How fabulous is that? And two, more importantly, since the party would be a meet-and-greet for actors, writers, crew members, and producers in town, odds were good that Michael Onyx, possible murdering incubus and actor, would be there.
A knock on the open door to my office shocked me out of my excited thoughts.
“Sorry to startle you,” Alex began. “Your front door was unlocked and when you didn’t respond to my knocking, I let myself in.”
I berated myself for not locking the front door – someone more nefarious certainly could have taken advantage. Then I noticed Alex’s arms laden with food and drink. He saw me notice and smiled.
“I brought coffee and bagels.”
“My hero.”
We grinned at each other for a moment before Alex made the move fully into the office. He set the bounty on my desk and pulled a chair closer before sitting directly across from me.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Absolutely.” We began to unwrap our bagels. When I suddenly set mine down and gasped, Alex jumped to his feet.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got distracted by the breakfast.” He sat back down and watched me. “I have an idea.”
“Great, let’s hear it.”
“I’m going to forward you an email invitation for a masquerade ball this Saturday.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Yes, though that’s not why I think we should go.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “It’s a meet-and-greet for cast, crew, production staff.” I paused expectantly.
“I think I know where you’re going with this.”
“Yep. Michael Onyx. Since he has allegedly killed four actresses, and he’s an actor, he’s in the industry. This might be the perfect way to flush him out.”
“Flush him out?”
“Yes. Although, I never did hear why you think he’s the killer.”
“Besides the fact that an incubus kills in exactly the way these women seem to be dying?”
“Besides that. Because if that’s the criteria, you would also be a suspect.”
“Ouch. Touché. Honestly, it’s a mix of my gut instinct and some off-color remarks he’s made about women.”
“Off-color?”
Alex actually blushed. “I’d rather not repeat them.”
“I’m a big girl,” I reminded him, “but that’s okay. I won’t embarrass you.”
“Thanks. What’s your plan?”
“We use the ball, so I can draw him out,” I began and Alex shook his head. “Hear me out,” I hurried to add.
“Fine, but I can already tell I’m not going to like a plan that involves using you as bait. That’s it, right?” His eyes darkened with a mix of anger and fear.
I faltered slightly. “Well, yes. I think it’s a good one, though. And you’ll be right there the whole time. I mean, we’ll have to arrive separately,” I amended. “But still.”
“If something goes wrong?”
“Either way, we have our proof.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Saturday night arrived and my heart jackhammered in my chest as I got ready for the masquerade. Ugh, if this kept up, I’d die of a heart attack before Michael could try to kill me. I widened my eyes in the mirror and applied my eyeliner and mascara. No reason to be worried. It’ll be in a public place. We’ll get Michael to express interest, I’ll draw him away somewhere private, and then I’ll use my feminine wiles to elicit his confession. I stopped laughing before I poked myself in the eyeball with the mascara wand. The plan would work. I had no doubt.
Although disappointed we wouldn’t be going to the ball together, Alex had agreed with my logic that Michael would be unlikely to respond to me if I arrived with another male. Of course, to be convincing that it wasn’t a setup, I’d have to flirt with several men. Including Alex. I was definitely looking forward to that.
I stood before the full-length mirror hanging on my closet door, surveying the damage (of the good kind). Halter neckline, bodice emphasizing my narrow waist, and material length longer in the back than in the front to showcase my legs. One of the benefits of being relatively tall. I couldn’t remember the name of the material. It was soft and flowing, a mix of beautiful deep blues, greens, and purples. I felt like a goddess, which was funny, given that I intended to flirt with demons. My mask was a beaded and feather confection that perfectly matched the dress. I was ready.
True to the email, I had received the address for the ball by text; I was mildly surprised it was a private address at one of the mansions in Queensridge, not a hotel or ballroom. Although, some of those places were gigantic. I figured they could handle the numbers. The drive was uneventful. I gave my name to the security guard at the gate and he handed me a printout of instructions on how to reach the home. Then the barrier gate lifted to allow me access to where the other half lived.
I drove along the tree-lined main road, watching for my first turn. Soon, I found myself in front of a massive two-story white stucco mansion with actual underground parking. That’s pretty legit, I had to admit, while I followed another car into the garage. As always, since I lived in a studio-sized condo, I wondered about paying for utilities and who exactly cleaned the monstrosity. Of course, presumably, if the owner wasn’t in hock up to his or her eyeballs, the owner had the means to pay for such pedestrian concerns. I chuckled and exited my vehicle. Time to focus.
Entering the home, it was clear it had likely been remodeled yet still held vestiges of its earlier incarnation. There was marble everywhere – I mean EVERYWHERE – from the floors themselves to the floor-to-ceiling columns placed strategically on the sides of the foyer. Huge picture windows ran the entire length of the back half of the house, allowing unobstructed views of the backyard resort-quality pool area. Hard to see what else the views were of since it was nighttime. Probably something equally stunning. I tried not to sound like a realtor in my head. I couldn’t seem to help myself in noticing updated door hardware, lighting fixtures, and an absolutely marvelous modern kitchen, all gleaming metal and clean lines. Gotta love an open floor plan.
I smiled when I saw Mia approaching. “Please tell me you don’t live here all by your lonesome,” I teased. The producer was a vision from one of her movies, her long green hair perfectly curled, glitter eye makeup peeking fr
om behind an elaborate sea green feathered mask, and an aquamarine sequined ball gown that showed off every perfect curve. She looked like a dang mermaid.
“Goodness no,” she answered with her tinkling laugh. “It’s a friend’s place; he’s in Europe on a project. He’s letting me host the party here because he’s awesome.”
“It’s amazing, but huge.”
“Absolutely. Way too big for me.”
“Me too.” I decided to take a risk. “Do you know Michael Onyx?”
Something unreadable flashed in her eyes before she answered. “Why?”
Hmm, not really an answer. Interesting. “He had submitted a headshot and resume when I first opened my office. He canceled last minute with no explanation and no request to reschedule. That seems odd for a professional actor.” I shrugged my shoulder with feigned nonchalance.
Her eyes pierced me. “True.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I couldn’t understand what made the conversation awkward. What did Mia know about Michael?
She sighed. “He’s newer in town and I would be willing to bet his listed credits are exaggerations or outright fabrications,” she allowed.
I knew Mia genuinely believed that, but there was more. “Good to know,” I responded, thinking of how to word my next question. “Is there anything else about him that I should know?”
Mia opened and closed her mouth once, before smiling broadly. “Nope. That’s all that’s relevant I think.”
That was a blatant lie; I remembered her reactions during our coffee and hoped again that she wasn’t involved in whatever Michael might be. “Okay, thanks for letting me know about the credits, at least.”
“Anytime. Welcome, and have fun!”
I watched her glide away and shook my head. There was something about her – I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I sensed him behind me before he spoke. He really needed to stop sneaking up on me.
“Hello, Catherine.”
I turned and he took my breath away. “Hi, Alex.”
“You look gorgeous.” His eyes beamed behind the black and gold mask.
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