by Brea Viragh
She hadn’t been carrying a phone. Only enough money for the cab ride home. No way would he let her go home alone after this. Not when she was still shaking off the effects of the powerful lust inspired by the succubus.
He wanted to kick himself. Anything could happen to her. With such a huge amount of lust and magic riding her blood, along with the almost implausible amount of natural allure she possessed, it would be a miracle if she made it a hundred feet without a scuffle. His mind conjured images of ski-masked thugs looming over his delicate Lavinia, doing their best to molest her. She didn’t have the tools to fight back. She didn’t have the wherewithal. She didn’t have him there.
Three blocks over, there was still no sign of her. There was, however, a very familiar face. The face topped a body forged in wet dreams and hardened in the desire of a million fantasies.
“Hey you. How did I do tonight?” The blond-haired woman from the club shifted closer, tossing the thick mane of cornsilk-yellow over her shoulder. She was dressed sharply in a tight halter top and latex pants cut way below her belly button. A diamond-studded belly ring glinted, catching his attention. It was an outfit designed to inspire scandal. It was her job.
“Mal,” Pike sighed, stilling his feet but not his heart. It continued to beat out a fearful tattoo.
The succubus leaned against the nearest building, drenched in shadow, with only the brightness of her red lips standing out among the shades of black and gray. She drew a cheroot from the waistline of her pants and brought it to life with the snick of a lighter.
“Pike.”
“You must still be on the prowl,” he said.
She shrugged. “Girl’s gotta eat. Your little sideshow didn’t take away that fact. Now I’ll repeat. How did I do?”
“I’d be better able to give you an answer if I knew. Lavinia is gone.”
Mal straightened. “What’s going on?” Then she smiled. “You lost her?”
“We were coming out of the club. I turned to talk to her but she wasn’t there. I’ve searched three blocks and I can’t find her.” Did he sound freaked? He hoped not. It wouldn’t do to have his reputation tarnished if Mal sent the word around about his reaction tonight.
He smoothed a hand over his hair. It took effort to straighten his shoulders and adopt an aura of nonchalance. Even more so to still the pulse beating beneath his skin.
“Could someone have grabbed her?” he asked. “After you sent your hoodoo her way?”
“Don’t you think I’d know?”
How could she, if Pike didn’t know himself? His gaze dropped to the ground with a scowl. “She was pissed about what I did. By bringing you in. She disappeared in seconds. Tottering around in high heels that are too damn tall for her.”
Mal stifled a chuckle. “You just can’t stop. It’s cute.”
“I want to find her. Period.”
“The wind’s dying down. Take a second to breathe, man, because even I can smell her now.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Stop panicking. Your little meal ticket is half a block down that-a-way. I suggest, once you have your spat, you tell her how you feel.”
Pike nodded even though he was already walking in the direction she’d pointed out. “Tell her what?”
“That you love her!”
He turned around to look at her as he walked backward and held his hands out to the side. “That’s the thing, Mal. I don’t.”
Her laughter echoed in his ears as he turned back. The moment he took time to draw air into his lungs, he did catch a whiff of Lavinia’s scent. It did little to still his racing heart, or the building dread, or the anger at his own stupidity. Here he was getting worked up over a woman. It wasn’t like him.
Try telling that to his insides, which were churning like an ice cream machine flipped to high.
The rapid slap of his own feet on pavement assaulted his hearing. It took mere seconds before he rounded a corner and ran face to ass with a furious Lavinia. Stalking away from him surprisingly well, despite the stripper heels she wore.
He watched the bobbing motion for a second too long before speaking. “Hey,” he managed, reaching out for her arm. Unsurprised when she kept it out of reach.
“Hey nothing,” she bit back.
“I know you’re mad—”
“Mad? Ha! I’m not mad. I’m furious.”
“It was just a little succubus,” he said in a teasing tone.
“So you’ve said before!”
She was fuming. Standing ramrod-straight and staring at him as if he’d grown a second head and it had just burst into a rousing rendition of the “Macarena.” Pike prayed he hadn’t compromised their friendship with the display at the club. Or his continued meals.
Aloud, he said, “Succubus or Incubus, depending on gender. They are demons, this time in female form. Usually appearing in dreams to seduce men. It’s how they feed. They survive by assimilating the lust and desire of human beings.”
“They aren’t supposed to be real!” she sputtered, her ability to articulate on an uphill swing. “I mean, come on. You said dreams. We weren’t dreaming. We were dancing. You wanted to feed me to that thing without any kind of warning. And unless I look like a man, I am not a lesbian, and there is no reason a succubus would come on to me. I can’t believe you.” She shot him an outraged glare. “Am I not good enough to warrant a male succubus?”
“Incubus,” he corrected, and his superior look had her clenching her fists in rage. “Knowing your terms will save your life. I thought you wanted me to teach you.”
She suddenly slumped, shoulders hunching and hair drooping to hide her face. A shudder passed through her. “At this point, I’d rather save face. I can’t believe what you made me do tonight. I can’t believe I almost left with that…” Trailing off, she and Pike spoke in unison. “Succubus.”
“I called in a favor,” he said. “She’s a friend of mine. Told her you needed some help. She was happy to oblige.”
“If I need to get help with sex, then I know who to dial on my cell. I don’t need you calling in favors with your demon friends. Especially when I don’t swing that way. Don’t do it again.”
“Help with sex? No, love. Help with your steep learning curve.”
“I don’t care how talented she is, or what kind of favor she owed you. I’m completely embarrassed—” Lavinia broke off on a jagged inhalation. “How could you do this to me, Pike? Look at me. Look at what I’m wearing.” She gestured down to her dress before wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I feel so stupid.”
He didn’t tell her she’d smeared her makeup. It wouldn’t do to have her start crying. Pike sighed and reached out to grasp her hand when she struggled to hold back a swell of emotions. “Why be embarrassed? A sexy, half-naked woman wanted to give you the pleasure of your life with no commitment. If I wasn’t there to stop her, she might have. You would have been a little drained, but I doubt she’d do any permanent damage.”
“I was mistaken in asking you to help me.” She swiped her free hand through the air decisively. “Don’t help me. I’ll manage for the rest of my many, many years without you. Trust me.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy I may be, but at least I’ll be alone and content with my sexuality. Then I can get back to my comfy pants and sweatshirt.”
“You’ll be a hermit for eternity.”
“I can live with it.”
It was in his nature to be alone, as she said. To be alone until companionship became necessary. There was no such thing as mating for life with his kind. Not when his humanity was in the toilet and didn’t allow for relationships. Lavinia was the one person who could challenge that. The minute he came to the realization, he should have packed up his bags and left. Found another city, another country, and settled there for as long as the natives allowed.
Yet here they were, walking down the street on their way home, and he kept hold of her. He drew in a deep breath and his belly only marginally filled. To
night would be lean, for sure. That’s how he knew she was pissed.
“I can’t believe you did that to me,” she insisted.
When she shivered, Pike slipped out of his jacket and tossed it around her shoulders. “Lavinia, all manner of creatures make up the world. You are woefully ill-equipped for ninety-nine percent of them.”
“I know. But you almost let me walk off with someone who would have had sex with me to feed on part of my soul.” She pointed to her chest. “I need my soul.”
“You’ll thank me one day,” he insisted.
“When? When I’m huddled in my bed, a quivering mess, unable to walk out of my apartment for fear of whom or what I’ll meet?”
“Exactly. Then you’ll get up. You’ll put on your boots. You’ll go outside. You’ll be fine. And probably wearing those comfy pants.”
“I’m hanging on by a thread.”
He saw the tiniest flicker in her eyes. Something light and bright amidst the darkness. Amusement? Appreciation? He couldn’t be sure, and she hid her face the moment she caught him staring.
“You’re laughing at me,” she said.
“Not at all. I think I keep my composure rather well.”
There was a pause as she tried to find something else to say. At last she came back with “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
He breathed in her scent. Delicious and deep, a hint of honey and sandalwood and something indescribable. Uniquely Lavinia. “I was going to give you time. To rest.”
“I prefer to dive in, since I’m failing at all your tests. I need to keep at it until I get something right. At this point I’ll settle for making the perfect sandwich, just as long as it tastes good.”
“You’ll…learn.” He squashed down his impulse to make a joke. To make light of the situation.
She clenched her fists in the sleeves of his jacket. “At least we know none of your tests can actually kill me. Wouldn’t that be a joke?” To his surprise, she stepped out of reach. “If I died trying to learn how to live.”
“Then let’s go into the park. Get some fresh air.”
“I don’t want a walk,” she burst out. “It’s late. I’d rather go home.”
Her eyes bulged with the effort of having to keep her comments to herself. Pike wished she would let go of her control. He wondered what kind of visions she could manifest if she’d let loose the rope she kept tied around her own neck.
His hand between her shoulders, he gently guided her in the opposite direction. “Okay, then. I’ll take you home.”
“I’m freezing.”
She didn’t look like a supernatural, although Pike knew from experience that most of the paranormals he’d come into contact with looked perfectly…ordinary. He still expected to see something astonishing when he looked at her. Something beyond the pretty features. Something cloaked in mystery, in magic, that matched the way she smelled.
“I can still feel it in my belly.” She let her hand rest on her abdomen. “A pulling in my gut. A desire I can’t even describe to you.”
Pike caught a whisper of movement from the alley. He turned in time to catch the first stirrings of decomposition before the ghoul staggered out from behind a fire escape.
With a sigh, he pushed Lavinia behind him. “Another ghoul? Jesus, woman, what the hell kind of perfume did you put on today?”
The ghoul lurched forward. Newly raised, she hadn’t quite had time to adjust to the magic yet. Adjust to whatever dark power coursed through her bones and forced her to rise instead of staying peacefully asleep beneath the ground. Warlocks. Pike never understood the allure of raising the dead.
“Please don’t make me fight her,” Lavinia said. “I’m not sure I have it in me.”
“What?” Pike pointed. “Afraid you can’t take her? She might be a tough old bird. Look at the granny shoes. Still has them on.”
“Please,” Lavinia begged. “Just do it, will you?”
“Just do it,” he repeated.
“Pike!”
“Right.”
It was two o’clock in the morning, with a walking dead person at his front bent on consuming them, and a trembling half-dressed woman pressing against his back, begging him to be a hero. He lunged forward and took the ghoul’s head between his hands, ending her existence with a twist. The ghoul burst into a cloud of smoke.
And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun.
CHAPTER 5
She’d never know how her life might have been if peer pressure hadn’t sent her into the occult store all those years ago. Poor Ben. He’d done everything he could beforehand. Afterward, when she’d shut herself off from the rest of her class, when she hardly got out of bed, he was the only one who still called.
She should have listened to him when he told her not to be stupid. Definitely should have listened when he tried to warn her against opening the spell book. High school was hard enough without the added stress of supernatural burdens.
It didn’t help that, for the moment, she was stuck in a minimum-wage position trying to keep up pretenses.
Lavinia was lost in thought, carefully stacking boxes of index cards on the back shelf.
“Weren’t you supposed to be off at four today?” a voice asked.
Her whole body jerked at the sound and the box she was about to set down flew into the air. Her coworker Brenda stood a few feet away, close enough to touch. Lavinia hadn’t even heard the other woman walk up. Boy, was she out of it.
“I was supposed to be,” she answered. “Unfortunately, I had nowhere else to go so I decided to stay. Don’t even tell me how sad it is. I know.”
Crouching down, Brenda helped her retrieve the shower of index cards now spread across the floor in cheerful rainbow colors. Following a brief smile to acknowledge the help, Lavinia turned her gaze to the work.
“I’m not going to say it’s sad,” Brenda replied. “You already know. You keep telling me no when I offer to have a girl’s night. In a few choice words, I might add.”
Brenda was the closest thing Lavinia had to a friend. A human friend. A human friend whom she specifically kept at arms’ length for fear of discovery. Which meant that interactions were limited to work and little else.
“I’m sorry, okay? You know what I’m dealing with at home. It doesn’t exactly put me in a good position to relax.”
“So what do you do?”
“To relax? I come to work.”
Brenda shot her a skeptical look. “All you ever do is work. For once I’d like to hear that you’re out enjoying yourself.”
“You don’t find this enjoyable?” Lavinia gestured toward the cards.
“Not by a mile. I’d rather be eaten by a great white shark than continue to work here.”
“Aw, I thought you loved it.”
“I love eating. I love being able to afford to go to the laundromat and wash my clothes. You know. The kind of things that make life worth living.”
“Ramen noodles?”
She nodded. “You get me.”
“Ladies!”
Lavinia turned and glanced over her shoulder at the person who had called out. Her boss. He stood in front of a mountain of boxes labeled LEMON FRESH, holding his arms out wide and tapping his foot in rhythm to the music in his head. The man thought he owned his staff, and believed they should all be grateful for the opportunity to work for him.
“Back to work.”
It was the same thing every day, Lavinia thought as she walked the block and a half to her apartment. It had been the same thing since she’d managed to graduate high school and life inserted her into the repetitive cycle. Work, home, sleep. It would be her eternity.
It was safe at the Home and Gift Store. It was a menial job working for a crap boss, and it was the same kind of job Lavinia had had from the time she turned sixteen and her mother told her to earn her money the old-fashioned way. Or else. It was a way to maintain her ordinariness in a world where she felt like she couldn’t keep up.
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br /> Here she was, eight years deep into her new life, and she could feel the world conspiring against her. Hellacious beings out there lurking and ready to make a mess. She had to do something, because the way she saw it, there were two choices: (A) She would continue to be attacked by anything and everything. On the other hand, (B) she would die of boredom trying to pretend. Trying to recapture an eventuality that had been lost to her.
It gave a girl a lot to think about.
She turned a corner and took a key ring out of her pocket. Once upon a time, she’d lived in a small town just outside of Asheville, her house several miles beyond town limits and nestled deep in the gloom of a pine forest. Their old family home was a neatly restored colonial with two-color stories dating back to the early 1900s. Her mother had wanted it painted orange, the color of the sun setting over the hills. Too much for the entire house, though, so in the end, they’d settled on her mother’s orange for the lower story and a creamy yellow for the upper. It worked.
Lavinia missed that house like crazy.
Keeping an eye out over her shoulder for any strange activity, she quickly unlocked the apartment building entrance door and hustled inside. Made sure to check the hallway and the street level again before locking the door behind her. One could never be too careful.
She hurried up the short flight of stairs to the second floor and paused outside her apartment door, key at the ready. Alert for any suspicious sound, Lavinia hastily dispatched the three deadbolts. Another quick glance around before dashing inside and firmly closing the door, making sure all the locks were again engaged. Only then could she let out a breath and relax.
“Mom, I’m home.” It was an unnecessary greeting. Her mother no longer cared. Or understood. The woman didn’t remember her own name.
For a split second, staring across the living room at the chair she’d positioned beneath the window—to see the trees better—it was as if Lavinia didn’t really live here. She felt like a stranger coming into someone else’s time and space. Her mother looked at her that way, too. Like a stranger. Like they didn’t belong in the same room and hadn’t spent the last twenty-six years together.
