SUCCUBI LIKE IT HOT

by Jill Myles

  Provided I lived long enough. “So why did the queen ask you to put a gypsy curse on me?” It didn’t add up.

  “Romani magic,” he corrected with a bit of a sneer. “Do not correct me.”

  “Sorry,” I said, pretending to be chastised. “Please continue.” Eat shit and die, but please continue.

  Luc smiled, returning to the sticks he carved. “The queen hates you,” he said mildly.

  Like that was a news flash? I straightened my legs in front of me and flexed. Sitting on the floor was killing my butt, but it beat playing Bingo in my head with a bunch of weird guys. “The queen hates all succubi.”

  He chuckled. “No. I mean she really hates you. Because of Zane.”

  Goose bumps prickled my skin. To earn the vampire queen’s undying enmity was not high on my list of to-do accomplishments. “Super. She and Zane are very close, I take it? He’s her favorite lackey?”

  Luc looked at me in surprise. “You don’t know? He’s the prince.”

  The world spun, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. “What?”

  “Her chosen successor,” Luc clarified, amused by my ignorance. “Didn’t you know?”

  “Someone neglected to tell me that small detail,” I said, gritting my teeth. “He told me he’d fallen from Heaven, like the others.”

  “Oh, he did,” Luc said. “They all fell from Heaven. But the vampire clan has a specific hierarchy. Queen Nitocris is considered the head of the vampire clan, and her chosen successor is the prince. Zane.” He whittled rapidly. “The fact that the prince chose you over her kingdom does not sit well with her.”

  “But she cast him out,” I said.

  Luc didn’t look up. “She is always casting them out for one reason or another. They always come crawling back to her, desperate for her approval and love. The vampire clan have been that way for centuries. Eons. Always they misbehave and are embraced back into the fold when they atone. The queen is their reason for living, the reason for their being.” He eyed me slyly. “At least, for most of them. And she is not fond of competition.”

  I don’t know if his words made me feel worse, or better. Better, because I knew how much Zane cared for me. Worse, because I knew I’d never win against Queen Nitocris. Hot sex and a Master-Suck bond versus millennia of adoration and a kingdom to inherit? “Ha. So she wants to get rid of me to get Zane back into the fold?”

  He nodded, brushing wood shavings off of his jeans. “There are only two ways to kill a succubus, after all. Kill both of her masters, or starve her out.”

  And the queen didn’t want to harm Zane, she just wanted him back under her control. “So she went for starvation.”

  “I have worked for the queen many times before,” Luc said, rising and heading over to the altar. “Romani magic is very flexible. A slight twist of the magic here or there, and you can make a curse do anything you like. In this case, I simply sped up your natural metabolism.”

  “Like you did to Victoria?”

  He looked amused by my accusation. “Remy told you about that, did she?”

  “You cold bastard. How could you do that to her? She was a succubus, too. You should be working with me, not trying to destroy me.”

  He laid the wooden cross that he’d created on the altar, and strode back to where I hunched in the corner. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me to my feet, anger blazing in his eyes. “Work together? Stick together?” He laughed in my face, his breath sweet, his voice harsh. “You will soon learn, my sweet, that in this pathetic Afterlife, no one looks out for a succubus but themselves. You and I were created to be a pawn for the important ones, a plaything for immortals. Never think for a moment that they don’t use that to their full advantage.”

  I shied away, trying to pry his hand off my arm. “Okay, okay.”

  His lip curled in a sneer. “You think you are so clever, with your masters wrapped around your pretty little finger.” His eyes blazed blue fury into mine. “Do you never stop to wonder why they are so fascinated with you? Why they are obsessed with possessing you and stealing you away from the other?”

  “All those Kegel exercises?”

  Luc backhanded me. Pain flashed through my head, a reminder that I needed to learn to shut my mouth.

  “You are a stupid girl. Die an ignorant fool, then. It makes no difference to me.” He thrust me away from him and strode back to his altar.

  I slid back down against the wall, disturbed. He carefully hung the cross upside-down on the wall, then returned to the altar, whittling as if nothing bothered him.

  It made my flesh crawl.

  My thoughts turned back to what he’d said. What had Zane done to get back in the queen’s good graces? Had he deliberately let Luc cast a curse on him, knowing he’d pass it to me? He’d said that he didn’t do it, but I didn’t know what to think.

  But the most disturbing question was, What had Luc meant about bitter rivals? About my masters both being obsessed with me for an unknown reason. Frustrated, I shifted position, making the chain tighten. Unable to stretch my leg out all the way, I jerked on it in irritation.

  The bolt in the wall moved a little.

  I froze, wondering if I had imagined it. I glanced over at Luc, who stood in front of the altar, carefully painting symbols on the wood and humming to himself. I slid closer to the bolt and examined where it was screwed into the wall.

  Whoever had put a bolt in the wall of a log cabin was a real dumb ass, I thought as I gave it another experimental tug. The wood was soft and probably rotten in the middle. When I tugged, I felt the wood give a little, but not enough to make a noticeable difference. Still, if I had a few hours to play with it, maybe I could work it out of the wall.

  No one was coming to save me. Not Zane, not Remy, not even Noah. Not Delilah and her voodoo magic, or the gris-gris that hung around my neck. No matter how much I depended on the others, it was all up to me this time.

  Not good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Hours passed. My butt grew numb from sitting on the hard floor, and I shifted positions repeatedly, careful not to make a lot of noise with the chain and even more careful to work at the bolt in the wall when Luc wasn’t paying attention. My constant efforts were slowly stripping the wood around the bolts, and with enough time, I’d be able to rip the whole thing from the wall.

  Luc was busy with his own plans as the sun slid across the sky and beyond the horizon. He finished his altar, decorated it with candles, then fixed himself an enormous meal—not offering any to me. His BlackBerry continued to ring constantly, but he didn’t answer it. “I know it’s my master,” he said with a reproving smile. “As if I’m foolish enough to answer.”

  His eyes grew an even darker blue as the hours passed. He eyed me repeatedly, his hand sliding to the bulge in his crotch, but every time, he forced himself to turn away and headed into the shower. The Itch was bothering him, but the need to be free of his master was even greater, so he deprived himself.

  That suited me just fine. I didn’t want to have sex with the creep.

  As Luc appeared naked from the shower this time, toweling his long hair, his half-erect dick jerked at the sight of me.

  I turned away, disgusted that he was so horny while I was sitting here captive. “Can you cover your junk up, please?”

  He threw his towel at me, and I caught it and shoved it against my side, glaring at him as he sauntered toward the bedroom.

  “So what does all of this have to do with you?” I called after him. Maybe he would be in a talkative mood again, and I could squeeze more information out of him.

  At first I thought Luc didn’t hear me—he was quiet for so long.

  Then he returned back into the living room, his wet hair slicked back into a ponytail, a white T-shirt over his chest and boxers over his naked bits. “What do you mean, what does it have to do with me?”

  “Why does the queen have you do her dirty work?”

  Luc sauntered past me into the kitchen, paying no more att
ention to me than if I were a dog lying on the carpet at his feet. “I’ve proved myself valuable to her many a time. There’s no need for me to explain otherwise.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s not going to be too happy with you now,” I pointed out. “She probably wanted to kill me herself.” When he looked back at me, I knew I’d hit a sore spot. “And just think how pissed she’ll be when she finds out that you used me to perform some selfish little magic trick to further extricate yourself from her grasp.”

  “She does not want to kill you,” Luc said, his voice mild. “I do.”

  As if I’d forget a minor detail like that? “She’s still going to be furious. You think she’s mad at me? Wait until you double-cross her.”

  The blue eyes narrowed at me, and he jerked out the silverware drawer, rummaging through its contents. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Actually, I was on to something here. “She’s a control freak. She wants everything under her control. I’ve met her. I know. If she can’t control you, she wants you dead. You’re of no use to her, so when you show up, all footloose and fancy-free, what do you think she’s going to do? Throw you a party for being clever enough to free yourself? Or put you under the same manhunt that she put me under?”

  “Do you think I care what she wants?” Luc sneered. “Do you think I like answering to her and her lackeys at all hours? Forced to do their bidding because of my ties to my master? That’s what this is about—what all of this is about.” He slammed a large knife on the counter, and I jumped. “No more demands.” He slammed the knife drawer shut. “No more doing her bidding.” He picked up the knife. “Just freedom. A Romani craves freedom above all else.” He headed toward me, knife in hand.

  “You probably make the Romani sick,” I said, standing up against the wall. “A pretty little lapdog to the queen. Yes, master. No, master. Whatever you say, master.” I forced a smirk to my face as I watched his fingers tighten on the knife.

  In a moment he was at my side, grabbing my upper arm and shoving the knife against my throat. “I grow weary of your mouth.”

  I stilled, frightened. Even though I’d survive a throat-cutting, I had no desire to experience the sensation of choking on my own blood until the cut healed. Provided I made it out alive, of course.

  “Take off the cuff,” he said to me, his eyes murderous.

  “No,” I said, swallowing hard when the knife moved closer. “Take it off yourself.”

  His body shifted against mine, and I felt the poke of his erection against my pelvis. His blue eyes searched my face, his breathing coming faster. “Remember how you moaned and squirmed in my lap in the car? You liked it when I touched you.” The knife slid down my skin, the cool blade caressing my neck. “I’d like to see that again before I kill you. I’d like to stick my cock inside you and make you scream for hours.” His eyes focused on my mouth and he slid the blade upward, lightly touching my lower lip. “After all, I can kill you in a few hours as easily as now.”

  I held back my shudder. If he took the cuff off, it wouldn’t be rape. I’d be so hot for his loathsome self that I’d do anything I could to get him inside me. I hated the thought of it.

  “You’d let me live for another day?” I said, my voice breathless as my hand trailed down his front, trying to make it seem like I’d do anything to buy myself another day.

  “Maybe,” Luc said, his eyes intent on my face as my hand slid into the waistband of his boxers.

  I put my hand on his cock, stroked the length of it suggestively, and bit my lip in the most seductive way I knew possible. “You want to fuck me?” I whispered against his face, arching my neck so the knife seemed more like foreplay than a threat.

  His blue eyes blazed into mine, all the answer I needed. He wanted to finish what we’d started in the car just a few days ago. “You want to buy yourself a few hours, ma belle?”

  “Hell, no,” I breathed, wrapping my hand around his dick and twisting viciously, my fingers digging into the skin.

  He screamed and dropped to the floor, his hands covering his balls. I couldn’t resist kicking him in the nuts twice, as hard as I could. Most of the force was probably stopped by his cupped hands, but I didn’t care. “I hope that fucking hurts, you asshole!”

  Luc groaned, twisting in agony, and I grabbed the knife. I stuck it between my teeth pirate-like, wrapped both hands around the chain, and pulled as hard as I could.

  It didn’t budge.

  “Please,” I groaned, jerking the chain again. It had seemed so loose before. My hands were slippery with nervous sweat, and I swiftly wiped them down. Luc grabbed my ankle at that moment, and fear fueled my next tug.

  The bolt came free, along with a good chunk of the wall.

  “Little bitch,” Luc said, still curled around his private parts, his hand tightening around my ankle. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  Panic threaded through me and I quickly wrapped the chain around my hand twice, then smashed my fist into his face. Terror and the help of the chain allowed me to strike a solid blow. He flinched backward, releasing my ankle.

  I ran to the kitchen, looking for his phone and car keys. I wouldn’t get very far on foot; I’d watched enough horror movies to know that.

  The counters were bare of Luc’s possessions; no sign of car keys anywhere. Frantic, I turned around, the knife clutched in my hand.

  Luc hovered at the other end of the kitchen, his face bloody where I’d clocked him in the nose. He still hunched over as if he were unable to stand upright, but gave me a deadly look. He blocked the only way out of the kitchen, standing between me and freedom.

  “You idiot,” he said, advancing toward me. “It’s going to give me great pleasure to wring your neck.”

  I backed into the corner against the stove. Frenzied, my eyes searched the small kitchen for anything that would help me. Nothing was in reach except the sugar bowl, and it was useless.

  Or was it?

  An idea flashed through my mind, and I acted before I had time to think about it.

  “Mae, I invite you,” I cried, then turned the sugar dish over just as Luc grabbed my arm.

  A flash of crimson and sulfur filled the small kitchen, and we were both rocked backward by the force of her entry into the house.

  “Well, well, well,” Mae said, looming over the two of us sprawled on the tile floor. Beside me Luc panted furiously, his breath shortened with fear. Gone was the genteel businesswoman outfit she normally donned; this time she was a full demon: cloven hooves, razor-sharp teeth, and burning eyes. “To what do I owe this honor, you nasty little slut?”

  I scrambled to the corner of the kitchen. “I brought you a present,” I panted, gesturing at Luc. “I’ll trade him in exchange for my escape.”

  Her red eyes gleamed in delight as she focused on Luc, who cringed. Then her gaze swung back to me. “And why shouldn’t I take you first? You betrayed me.”

  The gris-gris grew hot around my neck as she approached. “Because you can’t,” I said, hoping that Delilah’s magic was still effective.

  If not, I was screwed.

  The demon eyed me for a moment, pondering what I said. Then she smiled slowly, revealing too many teeth. “You’re a clever one. Very well.” Her reddish black hand wrapped around Luc’s throat and she hauled him into the air. “This one will make a tasty surprise. You have my thanks.”

  As she lifted him into the air, I crawled on hands and knees under their legs, escaping the kitchen. Behind me, Luc choked an unintelligible string of syllables, and the demon tsked at him. “No spells, my sweet.” He made a choking noise and grew silent, and I pictured her clawed hand squeezing his throat shut.

  The chain slapped against my leg and I froze in the hallway, reminded of my curse. “Wait,” I said, turning. “Before you do . . . whatever . . . with him, I need my curse removed.”

  Mae stroked Luc’s dark hair with clawed fingers, and gave me a dismissive look. “The deal was his freedom for yours, precious.
Now run away before I change my mind.”

  I clutched the gris-gris around my neck and hesitated. I was dead if I didn’t get rid of this curse, and Luc was the only one that could do it. “What if I made you another deal?”

  The red eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

  God, this was the stupidest idea ever. “If you can force him to remove my curse, I’ll . . .” I paused, thinking. “I’ll owe you another favor, to be called in at a future date.”

  “Done,” said Mae quickly.

  “Not so fast,” I said, panicking. “I want a few conditions on the favor.”

  She gave me an exasperated look and pulled Luc closer as he writhed to get free. “You silly humans and your conditions. Very well. Name them.”

  I thought hard for a moment. “You can give me three tasks, and I get to pick the one I want to do. And nothing that would compromise my values . . . I don’t want to kill anyone, or anything like that. Nothing that would cause me to tilt my soul’s balance in one direction or another.” God, would she agree to all that?

  She eyed me for a moment. “I should say no, but I’m intrigued. You do realize I’m going to do my best to find a way around your conditions?”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  Mae smiled. “Then we have a deal.” She grabbed Luc by the jaw and forced his mouth open slightly. “Come now, my pet. Remove the curse from her, and I’ll be gentle with you.”

  His eyes were wild as they flicked back and forth between Mae and me. His throat worked for a moment, and I heard two syllables rasp from his throat.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Tut tut,” Mae said sweetly. She slid a hot claw down his chest, leaving a smoking line after it. Luc gurgled in pain. “That’s not nice, sweetie. Do you know what the punishment is for those who aren’t nice?” Her smoking hand slid down into his shorts, and a burst of smoke puffed from within the shorts. His scream was cut off by her hand again. “Now. Remove the curse or things will get ugly.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. No one deserved to be treated like that. I had to remind myself that it was him or me, and that he’d planned on killing me.