by Jill Myles
I cringed as my body pulsed in response. Normally when I’d skipped a “meal,” the Itch pulsed in a constant whisper at the back of my mind. Today it felt like a sonic boom. Terrified, I trotted after Remy, trying not to think of Victoria and her starving to death in the middle of an orgy. Starving during sex. Nope, wasn’t going to think about it. “Let’s get this show on the road, can we?”
She reached for the keypad on the electronic gate. “I’m hurrying. Just give me a moment.” Remy pursed her lips, then typed in the key code on the illuminated electronic pad.
8008135.
The gate clicked, the light on the keypad flicked from red to green, and the heavy iron gate began to open slowly.
Remy giggled. “Guess why he picked that code?”
I gave her an exasperated look. “Do I have to?”
She pointed at the digits. “When you type it in, it looks like the word Boobies.” She laughed as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Just like the calculator joke.”
Oh jeez.
When I didn’t laugh, she said, “You’re such a stick-in the-mud, Jackie. Lighten up.”
I followed her through the gate grumbling, “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s sucking out the brains of random men.”
“True,” she said, her bare feet padding down the sidewalk. “I just have a half-demon Serim vampire thing inside me, thanks to your last adventure.”
“You just have to keep throwing that in my face, don’t you?” It was only partially my fault that she’d accompanied me to Egypt to retrieve the halo, and mostly her own fault that she’d absorbed it (we’d fought over it like a chicken bone and she’d won). Sheesh.
“Yeah, well, I don’t let things like that ruin my day, and neither should you,” she said to me with a cheery smile. “Now, where do we want to do this?” She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the quiet graveyard.
It looked quite well kept, since this was the nice part of town. If we raised the dead, I’d rather have little old rich ladies than dead junkies and street rats. The tombstones here were pale white marble, with small bouquets of flowers placed on each marker. Some didn’t even have gravestones, going for the more understated “plaque in the grass” look. In the distance stood a row of mausoleums for the truly rich.
Directly to our right? A nice, freshly dug open grave. No one was in it, but the sight made me clutch Remy’s arm and stand a little closer to her. “Let’s go wherever this will be done the quickest.”
She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Let’s find a Catholic grave. They’re usually big on blessings and last rites.”
“Um, call me crazy, but I don’t think they designate what religion people are on their tombstone.” The longer we stood here in the middle of the graveyard, the more this felt like a bad idea. “Maybe we should just go find a church—”
“No,” Remy said firmly. “We’re going to get you some real help, and we’re going to avoid Uriel if at all possible.” She clasped my hand and began to head into the graveyard. “Maybe we can find a nice Irish-sounding name, or an Italian one. Look for something that either starts with an O or ends with one.”
Ethnic profiling? Nice. I let her drag me after her, my sneakers squeaking on the wet grass. “I’m not sure—”
My voice died when a horrible, smoky smell touched my nostrils. I pinched my nose and looked around the quiet graveyard as my insides quivered uncomfortably.
A woman with red eyes leaned against a nearby tombstone, the marble angel above looking ready to attack her. Her tweed suit looked more suited to an office than a graveyard in the middle of the night. The woman’s long, lean frame shifted. “Hello, ladies,” she said in a cool tone, tilting her head down to look at us over the rims of her glasses. “Enjoying the night?”
At my side, Remy swore. “Of all the luck. A friggin’ demon.”
I stared at the woman, unable to take my eyes off her. “How do you know she’s a demon?” I whispered to Remy.
“She’s female. Other than demons, succubi are the only female immortals.”
Another tidbit of knowledge no one had bothered to share with me. I’d only seen males so far (other than Remy), but I hadn’t known that was a hard-and-fast rule. She wasn’t a succubus, that was for sure. Being a succubus, I recognized the faint internal vibe that Remy gave off, kind of like spiritual tuning chords. Remy’s chords resonated like mine, just like my innards resonated differently than Zane’s or Noah’s.
This woman’s tuning chords were scaring the hell out of me.
The woman smiled, revealing razor-sharp teeth be-neath the demure exterior. “Hello, darling. So nice to see you again.”
Remy snorted and took a step backward. “Which one are you?”
The woman waved her hand with an airy gesture. “Very small-time demon, I assure you. The big leaguers are too busy to hang out in graveyards tonight, no matter who may show.” Her red eyes flashed in the darkness. “You may call me Mae.”
I leaned over to whisper to Remy, “I thought we were here looking for an angel?”
“Not all the ground in a graveyard is consecrated by above,” Mae said, arching an eyebrow at me. “And I can hear everything you say.” The unnerving teeth closed and Mae gave me a tight, small-lipped smile, seemingly human again. “So what brings you ladies in search of angels tonight?”
“None of your damn business,” Remy said, squeezing my hand to keep me silent.
“Damned business is my specialty,” Mae purred. “I can offer the same kind of assistance as any angel, and I won’t cloak my meanings with fake platitudes and prayers.” She leaned back against the marble angel perched on the head of the tombstone and touched the cheek of the cherub in an almost obscene fashion. “So how about it, ladies?”
I looked over at Remy. “What do you think?”
She glanced at Mae, hesitating. “It’s not ideal. Not ideal at all.” Before I could ask her what that meant, she gave a small sigh. “But I think it’s just as safe as making a deal with an angel, provided you’re extremely specific about everything.”
Well, there’s a ringing endorsement.
“Should we wait for an angel to show?” I asked. If angels showed up, would it be some sort of celestial showdown? An immortal duke-out?
Remy shook her head, disappointed. “Won’t happen now. Not with a demon nearby.”
Mae smiled. “I’m afraid it’s me or nothing, sweetcakes. Make up your mind.”
I mulled that over, looking at Mae’s attempting-to-be-harmless-and-failing form. I could decline her offer and leave the graveyard and try another night. Or I could try a church and take my licks with Uriel, such as they were.
One of the demon’s hands reached up to caress the marble cheek of the angel again, and my body throbbed in response at the sight, reminding me that I didn’t have a lot of time if I was truly cursed.
“I need your help,” I blurted. Remy patted me on the shoulder, either approving my decision or sympathizing that I had to make one. “I might be cursed, and I need to know for sure.”
“You’ve come to the right demoness.” Mae stepped forward, her red eyes lighting with interest. “I can help you with that.”
“You can remove it?”
She shook her head. “Removing the curse is an entirely different matter. But I can help you identify it.” She smiled again, the demure, closemouthed smile. “For a small favor, of course.”
My spirits plummeted. “Of course,” I replied, losing what little enthusiasm I had. I hated favors, especially favors for the Infernal Host.
“’Kay, but name your favor first,” Remy said. “Then she’ll decide whether she will agree to do business with you.”
Smart Remy—I could have kissed her.
Mae’s tiny smile remained undimmed. “I just need you to carry a message for me.”
I eyed the demoness. “What sort of message?”
“A simple greeting, that’s all. A tiny reminder for a
n old friend to invite me over sometime.” Mae took another step forward. The air around her flashed, and the smell of sulfur rode thick in the air again. She froze in place. “As you can see, I am bound by this small piece of earth.” She gestured to the edges of the particular grave she was standing on. “I can’t leave these boundaries, except to return to Hell.”
Well, thank goodness for that. “A message? And that’s it?”
She spread her hands. “That’s all. I assure you that you will not be in the slightest bit of danger.”
Yeah, sure. I gave her a skeptical look. “Who is this message going to?”
“A woman who currently resides in New Orleans.” Again, that tiny demure smile hiding the wicked dagger teeth. “Just tell her that Mae can come over. She’ll know what that means.”
Some sort of unholy RSVP? It didn’t sound like a trick to me. I tried to puzzle it out, knowing that she was trying to catch me. There had to be a secret meaning to the message—I just couldn’t figure out what it was. Sure that I was missing something obvious, I glanced at Remy.
She shrugged at me.
“All right,” I said, even though it felt like a bad idea. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave her a brief nod. “I accept the offer. I’ll go to New Orleans and tell this woman that you’re coming to her party, and you’ll help me out?”
Mae inclined her head in a gesture of acquiescence. The smell of sulfur grew thicker. “That is correct. But you must deliver the message in person.”
“All right,” I said grudgingly. It didn’t sound so terrible, though I was sure I was going to regret the agreement later. “Now, can you help me with my curse?”
“The agreement,” Mae said, her voice suddenly all business, “was for me to tell you if you were, in fact, cursed.”
Yeah, I remembered. “So? Am I cursed or not?” My heart began to pound.
“Come forward,” she said, beckoning me. “I have to touch your skin to be able to tell.”
Ugh. Swallowing, I took a few steps forward, standing just outside her reach.
“Just a bit closer,” Mae said, the smile still in her voice. “I assure you, I don’t bite.”
She reminded me a little too much of the vampire queen for me to take that comment at face value. Probably because Queen Nitocris wasn’t really a vampire at all, but a human who had willingly joined her body with a demon’s soul, rendering her immortal and fucking scary. The vampires worshiped her and let her rule over them as some sort of goddess. Unfortunately, she hated my guts. Not only did I stop her from getting Joachim’s spirit (and certain world Armageddon) but I’d also replaced her in Zane’s heart, and she was possessive.
To see Mae’s sharklike smile curve just like Nitocris’s was a little unnerving and brought back bad memories. But I stepped forward again, burning to know if I was cursed.
She placed her hands on my arms, her flesh scalding hot. Before I could ask her to remove her hands, she leaned in and brushed her mouth against mine.
An instant tingle shot through my body, and the Itch exploded in my head. My body felt like it was on fire, a volcano of intense longing and desire coursing through me. My hands wrapped around Mae’s head of their own accord, and I pulled her mouth to mine again, seeking that warm tongue and the lick of heat that it brought. I needed more of her, more of that delicious burning flame deep down inside of me—
Rough hands jerked me backward, and I slammed into the wet, cold earth, and back to reality.
My head spun for a minute, and the air sucked back into my lungs, and I panted, coughing brimstone. I struggled to refocus on the too-sharp world around me, the Itch blazing through my body. My face scalded and I touched it, feeling the blisters on my skin where I’d made contact with Mae’s flesh. I glanced back up at her with shock.
The demon stood there, her red eyes burning bright as she looked down at me. Longing filled my body at the sight of her. I needed sex. Had to have sex. Would not be able to function until I had sex. I yearned to be back in her arms, that wonderful touch, like caressing a living inferno. I whimpered.
“Snap out of it!” Remy’s hard voice broke through my daze, and her hand cracked across my sore face.
“Ow.” That woke me up. I shook awake, then stared in horror at Mae. “That wasn’t part of our agreement.” I rubbed my face again, feeling the blisters. Already they disappeared under my fingertips—Sucks heal fast—but the memory repelled me as much as it made the Itch run wild under my skin.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” The demoness gave me an innocent look. “You did agree to let me touch you.”
“I thought you meant on the arm!”
Mae’s lips curled into a smug smile. “You know what they say about assuming.”
The more time I spent around Mae, the less I liked her. “So just tell me, am I cursed or not?”
Her teasing look slid away, and she was all business once more. “It’s interesting. When you two entered the graveyard, your power signatures were off the charts. Much stronger than any normal succubus. It’s what drew me here tonight.” She glanced over at Remy, who still hovered protectively over me. “But after kissing the red-haired one, I’ve determined that the power isn’t coming from her body after all.” Blatant interest showed in Mae’s face as she watched Remy. “Care to tell me your little secret?”
A month or so ago—in my first disastrous run-in with the Infernal Host—Remy had become possessed by the spirit of Joachim, one of the first and strongest (and craziest) Serim to fall from Heaven. I thought she was overcoming her problem, but when her eyes flashed bright red to match Mae’s at the question, I knew that wasn’t the case.
Remy looked furious. Mae simply looked fascinated.
I cleared my throat before things got out of hand. “Hello? Remember me? The girl with the curse?”
“What? Oh, yes.” Mae turned back to me, reluctantly drawing her eyes away from Remy. “You asked if you were cursed. My answer would have to be not directly.”
I pulled myself to my feet with Remy’s help, making sure to keep us away from the edges of Mae’s circle of unhallowed ground. “What do you mean, ‘not directly’?”
“Curses can work in many different ways,” she said. “You can force someone to ingest a cursed item or trick them into accepting the curse. Or you can imbue an object that the owner will use on a regular basis. Another way is to curse someone else directly, and they in turn pass it on to the true recipient.”
I frowned. “So which one is it?”
Mae grinned. “That would be another question, and that would require another deal, obviously. I’m game if you are.” She pursed her lips in a kiss and winked at me.
“No, thanks,” I blurted, taking an involuntary step backward. “So you can’t tell me anything more than that?”
“I could, in exchange for a teeny tiny favor.”
Remy shook her head and pulled at my arm. “Forget it. She’s not going to play fair.” Her eyes had returned to their normal bluish-gray hue, no traces of red remaining. Remy was back in control. “This was a bad idea, and I’m sorry I suggested it. But the good news is that I have a new idea.”
I stared at her. “You couldn’t have had this wonderful new idea a few hours ago, before we came here?”
“I didn’t think of it until she mentioned New Orleans,” Remy said, turning me away so I didn’t face Mae any longer. She leaned in and said, “I think we should visit Delilah. She’ll know the answer to your questions.”
“So who exactly is Delilah?”
“Delilah’s the oldest succubus in America,” Remy said, squeezing my arm in encouragement. “She came over to escape the French Revolution and settled in New Orleans. If there’s anything that a succubus has run across, Delilah’s bound to know about it.” She smiled at my dubious look. “She’s also a part-time voodoo priestess, so that should help.”
“Oh sure,” I said, trying to disentangle myself from Remy’s grasp. There was something almost desperate about
her clingy touch, and it was bothering me. Especially after the demon’s touch. “I was just thinking that we needed a big helping of voodoo to go with our curses and demons tonight.”
“What a coincidence,” came Mae’s smooth voice. “Delilah is just the person that you need to take my message to.”
CHAPTER FOUR
I poked at my stack of Rooty-Tooty-Fresh-’N-Fruity pancakes, unable to muster the enthusiasm to eat more than three of them. “So I guess we’re flying out to New Orleans, huh?”
Across the table from me, Remy gave me a puzzled look and shoved another forkful of strawberry blintz into her perfect mouth. “Why the hell would we fly there?”
“Uh, hello? Did you forget that little interlude with the demoness tonight? The one that was your bright idea? You know, where I agreed to bring a message to her friend in person?” The fact that Delilah was the demoness’s friend as well as Remy’s bugged me, but I didn’t say it aloud.
I trusted Remy. We bickered like siblings, but she was one of the best things in my Afterlife—sister, mentor, and buddy rolled into one. We might not always see eye to eye on things (like whom one should sleep with and how many), but she had never let me down.
Remy wrinkled her nose and shrugged, forking up another mouthful of blintz. “Yeah, but why do we have to fly? Let’s go on a road trip!”
I flicked one of the blueberries off my pancakes and shoved it to the edge of the plate. “What do you mean, a road trip?”
“Like Thelma and Louise.”
“They died in that movie, Remy.”
She grinned. “Yeah, but we’re immortal, baby. We can drive off as many cliffs as we want.”
True. “I don’t get it, though. Why a road trip?”
“I need to publicize my new movie.” Remy’s eyes were practically lit up with enthusiasm. “So I figure we can go in my Beemer and hit a few stops along the way, I can sign some copies of Babes in Boyland, meet the fans, and do a few photo ops.” She winked at me. “Besides, do you really want to go to work in the state that you’re in?”
My job. A bolt of longing shot through me. Just when I was getting somewhere with my career, the supernatural had to go and make my life hell again. She did have a point about working in my current state, though. I’d probably get horny as soon as I saw a naked statue. Still . . . “I think I’m going to say no.”
