SUCCUBI LIKE IT HOT

by Jill Myles

  Zane stared at me, obviously confused. “Jackie. You called me. You asked for my help.”

  I nodded, lifting my chin a little. “I do need your help. I need you to tell me who cursed you, and then let you pass it on to me.” There. I threw it out in the open.

  “You think I was the one that was cursed?” His scowl grew dark, and he took a step toward me. “You’re being ridiculous. I’ve never had a curse.”

  Delilah extended her hand, displaying the dark hair she’d pulled from Zane’s scalp in their struggle. She removed the small bottle of oil from her pocket and sprinkled it over the hair. Tendrils of heat arose from her palm, wispy smoke and the smell of burning hair filling the kitchen. “You were touched by the curse at some point,” she said calmly, as if none of this bothered her.

  At the sight of the smoke, proof of Zane’s lies, big, fat tears rolled down my face. I turned back to him. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you.”

  “You don’t really believe this crap, Jackie?” Zane stared at Delilah with cold eyes, then looked back to me. His lip curled a little. “You expect me to believe these parlor tricks?”

  Calmly, Delilah discarded the burning hair and plucked out a few strands of her own. She shook the oil over them. Nothing happened.

  She looked over at me, and I took a step backward. “I’ll get the hair this time.”

  I pulled a few strands out, handed them to her, and watched as she repeated the process. My hair reacted the same as Zane’s: The smell filled the room, twice as powerful as before. I pinched my nose to block the smell.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Zane said.

  “It means everything. It means that you’ve somehow passed your curse on to me.”

  He shook his head, his brows drawn in anger. “Jackie, I didn’t curse you.”

  “No? Then tell me how it happened.” Fuming, I shoved past him. I’d get Noah in here, and maybe the three of us could bully Zane into removing the curse. My heart ached.

  “Jackie,” Zane said, following after me. His hand touched my arm, but I shrugged it away and stumbled out into the foyer.

  The two vampires stood there, holding the small priest between the two of them. Noah lay collapsed on the floor at their feet.

  Panic surged through me, and I immediately fell to Noah’s side. “Noah!” I touched his face, my heart thudding painfully. “What did you do to him?” If Zane’s men had harmed him . . .

  I brushed my finger under Noah’s nose and was relieved to feel his breath, warm and regular. A quick glance showed that he hadn’t been harmed. Just his evening hibernation. Thank God. My heart thudded painfully and I pulled his heavy, limp body back toward me.

  One of the men kicked his unconscious form in the side. “Idiot Serim, to leave himself open and unguarded in our presence.” They exchanged fanged, unpleasant smiles.

  I glared up at them. “Don’t you touch him,” I said, raising a fist. The vampires ignored my anger, looking to Zane for approval.

  My blood went cold and I turned back to Zane. “I thought you were an outcast.”

  He glanced over at the others, then back to me. “I’m back in her majesty’s good graces.” Zane did a little mocking bow to take the sting out of his words.

  They still hurt. I brushed my fingers over Noah’s cheek to assure myself that he was all right. He was the only one I could count on. “But I thought—”

  Zane grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back to his side. “It’s complicated, Princess,” he murmured. “Now come in the kitchen so we can discuss this like adults.”

  I shoved away from him, anger surging through me. “Are you kidding me?” I took an angry step backward. “You’re the one being childish here. Thanks so much for running out on me, back to your bitch of a queen.”

  “Watch your mouth,” one of the vampires behind me warned in a low rumble.

  Zane reached for me again, obviously intending to drag me away by force if necessary. “You’re being foolish,” he began, his voice low.

  I took a step backward, tripping over Noah’s prone form. My hands flew up and I felt a pair of hands grab my arm, trying to stop my fall.

  Oh no—the priest. I barely had time to see his face out of the corner of my eye before he fell over on top of me, out like a light.

  “Damn it!” I said, trying to shove his small form off of the succubus-sandwich I had become, trapped between Noah and the priest. “Not another!” I glared up at Zane from my uncomfortable position. “Look what you made me do.”

  Zane grabbed me by the arms as the two vampire goons pulled the priest off of me. One of the vampires shook the poor little man so hard I thought his neck would snap, trying to wake him up.

  “He’s out,” the other said. “Think he’s a Serim, too?”

  “He’s not a Serim, you nitwit,” I said, shaking Zane’s hands off of me. “I did that to him. I’m cursed, remember? Your boss here knows all about it, because he won’t even touch me without fear of getting cooties.”

  “Cursed?”

  I buried my face in my hands and moaned. “This is very, very bad. First the pissed-off demon, now the priest.”

  “Jackie,” Zane said between gritted teeth. “I’m going to ask you one more time. We can have this conversation privately, or we can end it right now.” His scowl was dark as he glared at me.

  I struggled to my feet, frowning at him. Delilah stood in the kitchen doorway, watching us. Her eyes were narrowed and she had something moving in her hands.

  “Well?” Zane said, crossing his arms and staring down at me, waiting for an answer.

  Uncertain, I dropped my gaze to Noah. I didn’t want to leave him.

  Zane grabbed me by the hips, flinging me over his shoulder. “It looks like I’m going to have to make you listen.” He began to head up the stairs.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I slammed my hand onto his back. “You bastard! Put me down!” From my upside-down position, I could just barely make out the two vampires. The thick red curtain of my stupid hair blocked everything else except the two men collapsed on the floor. I hoped that Delilah’s plan involved saving Noah from the two vampires.

  “Put me down!” I screamed again as Zane climbed the stairs, ignoring my blows. I might as well have been tickling his ribs.

  We got up the stairs and he turned into the first doorway at the top—my room. As soon as we were inside, he shut the door behind us and dumped me on the floor.

  Outraged, I got to my feet. Arrogant ass! My hand flew to his face, a slap—but it never connected.

  He caught my hand and rubbed his thumb against my palm, then released it. His hands slid to my face and cupped it gently, kissing my mouth with the tender lips I remembered. “Jackie, Princess . . . are you okay?”

  I took a wary step backward. “That depends,” I said. “Make me listen? If you’re planning on beating me, we might have to have a little talk.”

  He shook his head. “That was just for those goons’ benefit.” He gave me a lazy, heartbreaking smile.

  “So you’re posing for your friends now? That’s disappointing.” Very disappointing.

  “Come on, Princess.” His easygoing smile seemed a little strained. “It’s so they report to the queen that everything is hunky-dory. You know I’d never hurt you.”

  I crossed my arms, staring at him as if he were a stranger. Hell, maybe he was. This wasn’t the Zane I knew. “Actually, I don’t know that you wouldn’t hurt me. Remember? You cursed me.”

  “I swear, Jackie, I didn’t know anything about it. I promise.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat, almost as if he didn’t trust himself around me. Anguish ripped across his face. “And I can explain—”

  “I doubt that very much,” I snapped.

  Zane’s lips tightened. “Do you know the trouble I had to go through to get here? The hell I went through because I thought you were hurt? In trouble?”

  “It doesn’t feel so great, does it?” My hands clenched in
to fists.

  He scowled at me, his teeth bared to show his fangs in a rather unfriendly manner. He took a step forward . . . and then stopped, staring at something over my shoulder. “Is that . . . Remy?”

  “Sort of,” I said, unwilling to turn around. I could feel her creepy eyes boring into the back of my neck. “Long story. Don’t change the subject now. Let’s get back to how you betrayed me.”

  An exasperated look crossed his face. “I didn’t betray you—”

  A loud crash sounded downstairs, followed by Delilah’s angry bellow. The voices of the two vampires rose, as well. It sounded like they were inches away from killing each other.

  Zane cursed, raking a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Will you stay here a moment while I check things out downstairs?”

  I didn’t feel like being obliging. “No.”

  He glared at me for a moment, then reached over and pulled me against his body. I struggled for a moment, but then his lips locked on mine and I forgot everything but the feel of his mouth. His breath was warm and sweet, without a hint of the coppery tang of blood. His tongue swept into my mouth, igniting the Itch from a low, burning spark into a full-blown inferno.

  Zane groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding to cup my face, thumbs stroking against my cheeks. His tongue delved deep into my mouth, tasting me, insistent and warm. Each thrust of his tongue was a suggestion, until my body was tensing and coiling with each thrust.

  The kiss broke off entirely too early, and Zane touched my chin, then smiled. “Better?”

  I regained my senses and slapped him in the arm. “Why is it suddenly okay to kiss me?”

  His mouth slid into a sardonic smile. “I figured you can’t get any madder at me.” He glanced at the door. “Wait for me here? I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

  Dazed by the kiss, I shook my head, my movements slow. “If you leave, I’m not staying.”

  “Jackie, please.” A hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. “You said you trusted me, remember?”

  And he’d betrayed that trust. “No. Either we talk now, or we don’t talk at all. I don’t need someone who abandons me just when I need him.”

  Something crashed below, and Zane hesitated, clearly torn between staying with me and answering to duty.

  A male voice screamed an epithet downstairs, and duty won out over lust. He sighed and pulled my arms away from his neck. “Can you hang tight for a few minutes, Princess? I promise I’ll be right back.” He took my hand in his, turned it over, and kissed the palm.

  “You always say that,” I muttered, but I sat down on the edge of the bed as he disappeared out of the room and down the hall. My knees were strangely weak after that kiss, and I pressed a hand to my forehead, feeling the flush creeping over my skin.

  At least Zane was here now, which meant the Itch could be taken care of soon. Even better, he’d kissed me on the mouth before he’d left, so maybe he was over the whole “passing the curse” thing.

  After all, he’d passed it to me.

  I listened to the shouting voices downstairs, wiggling one of my feet in anxiety. The Itch made my entire body restless, and I couldn’t sit still. I hummed to myself, trying to block out the sound of Remy’s loud, harsh panting in the closet.

  Noah—he was downstairs in the midst of all that chaos. My lust had nearly made me forget about him. I lurched for the door.

  A hand clasped my arm, warm against my bare skin. I jerked in surprise, but it was too late.

  Unnatural darkness fell over me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Having the tables turned on you really sucked.

  I sat in an ice cream shop with a black-and-white checkered floor, staring at the table in front of me mournfully. It was a beautifully set table, with crystal water glasses and fine silver, and the prettiest embroidered napkins. Empty sundae glasses were lined up in front of me, obscene with their sparkling cleanness. It was obvious they’d never held a lick of ice cream in their lives.

  “Is this Hell?” I asked the guy across from me.

  The priest shook his head, his hands clasped across his chest. “I think it’s all in your head.”

  “If it was my head, there’d be some dang ice cream.” I picked up one of the shining spoons and sighed, glancing around. The mini-jukebox on the table played Chuck Berry, just like in the movies.

  Across from our booth, at the counter, sat everyone that I’d accidentally sucked the brains out of. The pizza dude. The fat dude who’d been porking Remy, George. The redneck in the truck who thought I was a hooker. The two cops.

  I picked up a napkin and pretended great interest in it, not making eye contact with the lineup that glowered at me. “So uh, you guys have been in here the whole time?”

  The priest inclined his head slowly. “That’s what they are telling me. We seem to be stuck here in limbo. And it’s somehow directly connected to you.”

  I played with the spoons. “Can’t really argue with that. At least you got to hang out in an ice cream shop, though.”

  “Except it wasn’t always an ice cream shop. That changed when you got here.”

  “Oh,” I said, then paused. “What was it before?”

  The priest blushed.

  “Never mind,” I blurted. “I don’t think I want to know.” Oh gracious, I’d had dirty thoughts in front of a priest. Poor man. “So what do you guys do in here?” I did my best not to look over at the crew glowering at me from the counter.

  “We wait,” the priest said calmly. “Nothing we can do until you decide to free us.”

  “And we’re hungry,” bellowed the pizza boy.

  I winced. “See, here’s the thing. I don’t exactly know how to free you.”

  The priest leaned forward. “I gathered as much,” he whispered. “I would imagine we are in even more dire straits, considering the fact that you are now trapped in here with us.”

  He had a point. I frowned. “I don’t know how I got in here. Succubi don’t sleep.”

  “This isn’t a dream. We’re somewhere else. I think perhaps we are in your subconscious.”

  “Well, how did I get stuck in here?” My powers had never worked on myself before. I ruled out the thought of knocking myself out—because if I had, I was in really deep doodoo, since I didn’t know how to get back.

  I thought back to the hand that had touched my arm just before I’d appeared here, and my hand went to the gris-gris around my neck.

  I’d been warded against everything that wished me harm . . . everything except succubi. “I can’t ward it against myself,” Delilah had said before handing it to me.

  That little double-crossing bitch. “I am so going to kick her ass when I get out of here.”

  But why wait until I was alone to knock me out? She’d had plenty of opportunities to knock me out before, and she’d never done it. Something wasn’t adding up. Remy? I dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred. Remy was still trapped in my closet.

  “So.” I drummed my fingers on the table and looked around. “Since we’re going to be here for a while, what do you guys do for fun?”

  “Bingo,” said the priest.

  Riiight.

  Several hours later, I scowled at my card. “I need two numbers for a blackout and you won’t call them!”

  “They’re random numbers, my dear,” the priest said in his effortlessly calm voice, and pulled another Bingo ball out of the machine set up at the front of the ice cream parlor. “G-48 is the next number.”

  I swore at my card and peered over my shoulder at the pizza boy’s. Damn, he only needed one more number.

  “Bingo!” cried George, getting up from the table and waving his ink-smeared card in the air. “I win!”

  “It’s my brain,” I said sulkily. “I should get to win.”

  “If it was your brain, every single number he called out would be 69,” the chucklehead cop next to me said.

  Before I could come up with a wickedly witty retort, the ice cream parlor
swam before my eyes and went dark.

  “Wakey wakey,” a low, smooth voice said, and a hard fingertip tapped against my forehead.

  I jerked awake, my eyes fluttering open. My legs hurt, my neck was killing me, and I had drool tracks at the sides of my mouth. I tried to focus my bleary eyes on the hand that tapped me on the forehead again, then moved away.

  As consciousness returned, I lifted my hand to wipe my mouth and discovered something disturbing. My hands were cuffed together with zip-ties, the plastic bands cutting into my skin. An experimental shift of my feet revealed an identical situation, and there was a tight band around my knees that hurt as well. Some weird silver manacle around my ankle burned hot against my skin.

  Okay, so someone had me tied up. No reason to panic just yet. My eyes flicked over my surroundings: I was crammed into the backseat of a car, my long legs folded up so I’d fit into the vehicle. My head was tilted in an awkward angle against the door, which explained the pain in my neck. From this angle, I couldn’t see my captor. I tried to straighten up, but every muscle in my body protested and I gave up. “What is going on?”

  A masculine chuckle rolled from the front seat, one that I recognized and made my blood cold. Luc.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t already figured it out,” he said, his voice completely unruffled. “Perhaps I’ve put too much stock in your intelligence. You did say you were an archaeologist, correct?”

  “I never told you that,” I said, forcing myself upright. Oh God, the pain that shot through my legs was intense. A flurry of pinpricks cascaded through my feet and hands, signifying that my circulation was cut off. “Gee, you think you could have tied these things a little tighter? My hands haven’t quite fallen off just yet.”

  “There’s my girl,” he said, and I caught a hint of a smile in his voice. “Covering your fear with your stunning wit. It’s a good thing, ma belle. You should be afraid of me.”

  Oh, I was definitely afraid. And the possessive way he called me ma belle made me think he had some sinister plan in mind. I stared out the window at the highway that sped past. More trees, and the sun was edging into the horizon. Sunrise soon. That meant we’d been driving all night. “Where are we?”