by Lizzy Ford
“No, I think …” There were boxes on the landing outside her apartment. With a heavy heart, she began to think the Professor was right. “I’ll be fine.”
Tired, Zoey trotted up the stairs to the door and hesitated. She thought about knocking then strode in. Eric was in the center of the living room, taping up another box. He’d made the effort to fold all her clothing into neat, crisp stacks awaiting their own box. He straightened.
“Hi,” she said.
“You’re letting the cold air in.”
She closed the door and leaned against it.
“Dressed for the library.” His gaze swept over her.
Zoey glanced down, face growing hot as she realized she’d left in jeans and a sweater and returned dressed like a tramp. She glanced towards the mirror, horrified by the sight of her runny makeup.
“Is this … is this because I freaked out yesterday?” she asked quietly, motioning to the boxes. “Because I really didn’t mean I wouldn’t marry you. Just that I needed –“
“To think, I know,” he said, anger in his voice. “That wasn’t the reason.”
“Then what, Eric? I thought things were going well until last night,” she said, confused. “What have I done? Whatever it is, I’m sure I can fix it.”
“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
“Of course.”
“How many men?”
She stared at him. It was a loaded question. “You’ll have to be more specific.” As soon as the answer left her mouth, she knew it was the wrong one.
“So, it’s true.” A look of pain crossed his features. “You’ve been cheating on me.”
“No. Absolutely not,” she said quickly. “I never cheated on you.”
“What do you call this?” He whipped out his phone and handed it to her.
She stared at it then glanced down. It wasn’t the same dress. It was the one she’d woken up in yesterday morning, after the night she couldn’t remember. Someone snapped a picture of her making out with someone she didn’t remember, in the middle of a trendy club she didn’t recognize. She swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to explain it while struggling with why she didn’t remember the interaction.
“Tory recognized you and sent this to me.”
“Did she see what happened next?” Zoey asked.
“What?”
“I mean, this doesn’t prove I cheated on you. So I kissed some guy.”
“You kissed some guy.” He repeated in disbelief. “After lying to me about the library and not coming home at all last night.” His hands shook as he took back the phone. “I was ready to spend my life with you, Zoey.”
The hurt in his voice crushed her. “We still can,” she said. “I swear to you, Eric, I never slept with any of those guys.”
“Dear god,” he whispered, paling. “How many?”
“Well …” she tried to remember an approximate number. If she was the number one Cambion killer, that meant she’d beaten Vikki’s record of 560 in a year. Had she made out with all of them? Mostly, yes, she admitted.
“How many fucking men did you make out with while lying to me about being at the library or in class?” Eric roared.
Taken aback, she was quiet. He flung the phone and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“A couple hundred,” she lied.
He gasped.
“Okay, maybe a few hundred. I really don’t remember.”
“Why were you … wasn’t I enough for you?” he asked, the heartbreak in his voice making her eyes water.
“Eric, I swear, it was business, not personal, and I never slept with any of them,” she insisted.
“Get out.” The words were a whisper.
“No, Eric, please let me explain. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I meant to tell you-“
“There is nothing you can say that will fix this,” he said. “Nothing, Zoey. There is no possible excuse you can give me as to why you were making out with other men! It’s completely unacceptable behavior!”
“I didn’t sleep with them.”
“I don’t care! You and I were a couple. That meant we weren’t sleeping around, making out with or kissing other people!”
She hadn’t really thought of it that way. She’d sworn not to cheat, which meant sleeping around. The rest…well, she took some pleasure in it. But it was still a job. Her throat tightened. She didn’t know what to say. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.
“Get out. Please.” There were tears in his eyes, and the words were choked.
This was real. He was breaking up with her. For the first time this morning, Zoey understood what was happening. There was no fixing this. There was no going back to how things were yesterday.
“I’m sorry, Eric. I know it doesn’t help. But I do love you. If you…change your mind, just call,” she said lamely. “I don’t want my job to come between us.”
“Your job didn’t come between us. Several hundred men did.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. In that light, she was a shitbag. She fumbled for the doorknob and opened the front door, unable to bring herself to look at the photo collage next to the entrance. Outside, her new life was cold, wet and miserable. She wanted the warm, gentle life inside the apartment.
The Professor’s car waited. Somehow, he knew she’d be coming back. Maybe because he knew where she belonged, even if she refused to believe it.
With a deep breath, Zoey left the apartment and returned to the Professor’s car. She wanted to sob herself to sleep and wake up somewhere else or to beg Eric to take her back. The look on his face – revulsion – was too much for her. He thought her the lowliest person on the planet. It didn’t help how she handled his proposal.
Eric was too good for her. He deserved someone better. She’d always known that, but she’d never wanted to let him go. He was all that kept her feet on the ground.
“Welcome home,” the Professor called as she walked into the house a few minutes later.
“I’m gonna take a shower and go kill things,” she replied, trotting up the stairs to the second floor.
“Dimitri called. Vikki is in the hospital. He didn’t have his channel open last night and had no idea until I told him about you.”
Zoey stopped, heart dropping. “Is she okay?”
“He got there in time. She’ll be fine. Looks like she got poisoned, too,” the Professor was thoughtful.
“Dimitri is a dick. Why didn’t he know she was in trouble?” Zoey demanded, furious for more than one reason.
“Go clean up and get presentable. We’ll talk about something,” the Professor looked grave.
Zoey didn’t hesitate, sensing he was about to tell her one of his secrets. She wanted … needed something to distract her from her emotions. She wasn’t ready to face the pain yet or the reality of losing Eric. Maybe in a few days, he’d change his mind.
Her hands trembled as she turned on the shower. She had to make it a few days without succumbing to the sex energy spinning through her. Eric would call, and things would go back to the way they were.
Fully dressed half an hour later, she trotted down the stairs to the Professor’s study. His magic ensnared her, erased her body’s tension, while the scent of his cigar soothed her. She felt tired. Her gaze went to the food he had waiting for her near the fire. Her favorite meal of the day was breakfast. When she could, she ate it all day long. An omelet, toast and bacon sat on the tray, along with coffee, two liters of water and painkillers
“Sometimes, that gets annoying,” she told him with no heat. She crossed to it.
“Wanting to help you?” he asked innocently.
“Reading my mind. Humans can help each other without doing that.”
“We’re not human, dear, and I can’t read your mind without touching you. I simply pay attention to what I think will make you happy.”
“Sorry, Professor,” she muttered.
“Shut up and eat, kiddo.”
Zoey obeyed. She shoveled the fresh, hot food into her mouth, almost groaning at the pleasure of eating. Her dinner with Eric seemed so far away. Weeks ago, not last night.
“I’m not sure a finishing school could help you,” the Professor said as he joined her. “You eat like a ravenous wolf.”
“I kill things. That’s what matters,” she said around a mouthful of toast. “Vikki and I are the best.”
“You are,” he agreed. “She’ll be home from the hospital today. Why don’t you move in with her to see how it goes?”
“To spy on her.”
“Yes.”
A pang of sorrow slid through her. Zoey pushed it away. She sat back, her plate clean.
“I saw nothing troubling in your memories of last night,” the Professor said. “She was poisoned, too. I think it too much of a risk for her to poison herself. She knows how Dimitri is.”
“You mean, angry, bitter and Halfling-hating?” she asked.
The Professor smiled. “You asked me something yesterday. I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”
She perked, sensing he was going to reveal something.
“The reason we can’t read Vikki’s mind is because she has already fallen to an Incubus,” the Professor said. “When an Incubus claims a Halfling as his… I guess wife is the nearest equivalent. Doesn’t really fit, but you’ll understand it better that way.”
“What do you call it?” she asked, irked.
“Soul-mate.”
“I understand that fine.”
“Not this way. An Incubus can have one soul-mate in life. They literally share a soul, unlike that sappy human version of a couple who happen to have similar enough interests to be friends,” he said with some distaste. “An Incubus can connect his soul to one Halfling in his lifetime. It binds them like no other force. Only male offspring are born to an Incubus, just like only female offspring are born to a Succubus. Incubuses breed with Halflings in order to produce Incubus heirs. The offspring born of an Incubus and a human are Cambions.”
“I knooooooooow,” she said impatiently. “Olivia gave a presentation once and said Succubae don’t have kids; they make us in a laboratory.”
“Halflings, yes,” he answered. “Her predecessor perfected the art of creating genetically-gifted Halflings able to use the magic of your enemies, so you can kill them. A full Succubus, though, is born from a Succubus mother and a Cambion.”
“I don’t like Succubae enough to care where they come from.”
“It’s important for you to understand, since Halflings like you are sought after to continue the Incubus bloodline. Our societies are interdependent, even though we full-bloods try to pretend we aren’t.”
“I do understand. I just don’t care, Professor. Thank god I’m afraid of commitment. There’s no way I’m getting caught up with some Incubus,” she said. “You think Vikki found her soul-mate?”
“A woman does not find her soul-mate, dear. He finds her. The instinct to claim his wife is undeniable for an Incubus,” he chided. “But yes. It is the only thing that can displace the bond Hunters have with their guardians.”
“Awesome, except I’m guessing that means she’s bound to an Incubatti,” Zoey said. “That’s bad.”
“Very,” he said. “Dimitri figured it out last night, when he went to the hospital. He had the very unfortunate job of tracking down the Incubatti to come save his wife. That conversation did not go well. It’s not something I’ll be presenting to the Enforcers.”
“You’re going to lie to them?” she asked, astonished. “Is that possible?”
“I won’t lie to them if they ask. But I won’t bring it up,” he said. “If they have no reason to read my mind, they won’t.”
“What if I go before the Enforcers?”
“I suspect they won’t need you.”
Zoey studied him, not liking this discussion at all. Her best friend somehow married into the mob for a reason outside her control, and now the good guys were going to fry her for it. Never mind Zoey couldn’t lie to a Succubus, let alone a super-Incubus Enforcer. Her personal life was in the shitter. Now, her professional one was about to follow.
“There is something else.”
“I don’t want to know anything else,” she said, standing.
“The members of Team R were grouped for a reason.”
“We’re not blonde. We know. Dimitri tells us all the time,” she snapped.
“You’re marked.”
“Meaning …”
“Team R is the code name we gave to the Hunters we discover who are Incubus soul-mates or who will become one. It’s not easy finding your kind.”
She stared at him then laughed. “No way, Professor. I’m firmly on the Cambion-killing side of the line.”
“Yes way. You lied to me yesterday, Zoey, when I asked you about how you ended up on my porch the first time.”
“I was drunk. I don’t remember that night.”
He rolled his eyes, mimicking her reaction to him. “You weren’t dumped on my porch by accident. You were brought here by the Incubus that marked you as his. We chose to watch you for years to see how suitable you’d be for our kind, like we do all the Halflings, before we select who we want to recruit to become Hunters. We determined you weren’t suitable at all. The general assessment was that you would’ve been a truly gifted warrior for us but were too prone to irrationality, stubbornness, poor judgment and misdirected passion.”
Zoey wasn’t surprised. She didn’t fit in with the Succubus society, their rules or the girls they collected to fight their battles.
“But, you were intended for an Incubus who disagreed with the decision. He marked you and dropped you off on my porch swing one night. He didn’t claim you, which allowed me to bond with you as your guardian. I guess you were brought for safekeeping.”
“That’s just ridiculous. Vikki was recruited, and she’s on Team R.”
“She wasn’t marked until recently. She probably ran across her soul-mate while killing off his Cambions or something. He figured it out, and she’s feeding him all the information he needs to undermine the Sucubatti. The tension between the societies has been growing for years now. They both employ these types of tactics.”
Agitated, Zoey struggled to take in everything he told her. He released more magic. She glared at him, wanting to feel the anger he pushed away.
“I need you moderately coherent for this conversation,” he said firmly. “Has any of this made it through that hard head of yours?”
“Vikki’s an involuntary traitor, I’m marked or whatever by some random Incubus. I’m gonna have to lie to the Enforcer inquiry and my whole world went to shit in a matter of twenty four hours!”
“Good.”
“I hate my life.”
“If it helps, our assessment of you was incorrect. What we thought were weaknesses, you have turned into strengths. You’re fearless to the point of foolish, and you’re a ruthless, resourceful killer. Your judgment has improved some, though your insistence that you can live a double-life without things blowing up for you is ignorant. Perhaps, someone else will convince you, since I could not.”
Accustomed to the backhanded compliments of a creature that thought itself superior to half-breeds and humans, she listened quietly until his last, thoughtful sentence. Zoey’s gaze went from the hearth to him.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, concerned.
“No, dear.”
“Are you dying?”
“No. I am … preparing you in the case you need a new guardian to temper your magic.”
“Why?”
“You trust me, don’t you, my dear?”
“You know I do.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It took what? Years for me to win that war with you. I’ll take a victory by attrition.”
She studied him. She trusted him more than anyone else in the world, fully aware she’d never know if he lied to her. He’d taken many chances on her when the Sucubatti openly ri
diculed her lack of discipline and ambition. The Professor treated her well and put up with the sarcasm and wit that got her kicked out of a lot of classes. He’d believed in her since the beginning. It struck her that she never knew why.
“You can’t leave me or die or transfer or kick me out,” she told him firmly. “I will leave the Sucubatti if any of those things happen. I don’t want anything to do with this stupid organization.”
“What would you do? Kill Cambions on your own?”
“Yeah. Why not?” she asked with a shrug. “I hate them. I can kill more Cambions in a week without the stupid rules than I do now.”
“You’d be dead in three days. You can’t control the sex energy without a guardian, and I am too old to sustain you as it is. You know this, Zoey. Before too long, you will need a new guardian.”
“No. I only want you.” She rubbed her face. She wasn’t going to tell him she felt like she had been shorting out with her inability to manage the sex energy for quite some time.
“The rules are there to protect you.”
“I know,” she admitted. “You’re worrying me. You’re telling me my best friend is a traitor and I lost Eric already. I never asked for this, but I’ve always outperformed everyone else, not because of the Sucubatti or their goddamn rules. I’ve done it for you and to help people who can’t help themselves. You’re all I have, Alexander. I can’t lose you, too.”
“My sweet, noble warrior.” His tone was tender, and his eyes sparkled with tears.
Surprised at the display, Zoey reached out to him and squeezed his hand.
“Please tell me you’re not dying or leaving me,” she whispered, panic spiraling through her at the idea of being alone. “Please.”
“I’m not,” he confirmed. “You remind me of someone I knew once.”
“In a good way?”
He laughed, a rich, rolling sound.
“Good.” She realized – not for the first time – that she didn’t know much about him at all. She knew only a few years worth of Alexander. He’d lived thousands of years.
“I am glad your soul-mate saw what we missed.”
“Is it you?” she asked. She’d wanted to avoid that part of the conversation completely, but the idea Alexander was meant to spend his life with her was a nice one. “You won’t be lonely anymore.”
