by Jill Myles
“Zane gave me something that might help. It’s a magic charm that nullifies the magic of the wearer. He was going to give it to me for my curse and I don’t need it now.”
Noah nodded slowly. “Perhaps he was looking out for you in the only way he knew how.”
I swallowed hard at the knot in my throat. “Let’s see if it works on Remy, shall we?”
We got up from the bed, heading to the end of the hall where my old bedroom—and Remy’s closet—lay. I flicked on the light switch as we entered the room and in the corner, still trapped in by the thick line of rice powder, Remy hissed at me. Her eyes glowed a deep, angry red.
“Do you want me to put the charm on her?” Noah said, extending his hand. “She might be dangerous.”
“No, I can do it,” I stepped forward, letting the necklace swing from my fingers. This was my doing, and I’d be the one to fix it. I approached the closet with cautious steps, crouching just before the line of rice powder but not crossing it.
Remy looked exhausted, despite the unholy fire that lit her from within. Deep shadows ringed her eyes, her lovely olive skin was spattered with dried blood and Lord only knew what else, and tangled hair slid all over her face. She looked like a wild creature, and she even hissed at me again when I approached.
“A present for you,” I said, holding the dangling necklace in the air so she could see it. As I took a good look at it in the light for the first time, my jaw dropped.
The hard charm that I’d mistaken for an acorn? A big, marble-sized diamond. It seemed to have a life of its own, dancing and glittering so brightly that it seemed to be glowing in the sun rather than just the lighting of the bedroom.
A low, barking laugh erupted from Remy’s throat. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to reach for that, foolish succubus?”
I admired the necklace for a moment longer. “Not really.”
Before Joachim could ponder my response, I crossed the rice powder line and tackled Remy, pressing my elbow to her throat. Either I’d caught her by surprise or her body was weakening from lack of sex, because I had the upper hand.
She screamed and thrashed under me, her hands reaching for my face like claws to scratch my eyes out. I pushed down harder on her throat and her breath turned to faint gurgles as her hands frantically scratched at my skin.
I held the necklace high out of her reach.
How was I going to get it over her head?
Noah appeared by my side, crowding into the closet next to us. With one strong hand, he held down one of Remy’s arms and drove the other wildly thrashing one down. “Do it before she hurts herself,” he said between gritted teeth.
Rushing to unclasp the necklace, I sat atop her stomach, straddling her body. Even though her physical form was weak, malevolence emitted from her, and I could feel the unnatural fury building. Joachim was readying to attack.
I leaned in to put the necklace around her neck, fumbling to clasp it behind the snarled mass of her hair.
Remy sank her teeth into my arm and began to snarl.
I swore, but she only dug in deeper, her red eyes flaring. It hurt like a bitch, but I wasn’t about to let Joachim win this one. I concentrated on hooking the tiny clasp.
As soon as I released the necklace, the thrashing of her body stopped. She quit shaking my arm like a ravenous pit bull, and her growling died away. I remained seated atop her, warily scanning her face.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and stared up at me with mild blue gray eyes. Her mouth slid off my arm. “I suppose there’s a logical reason why I’m chewing on your forearm?” she asked in an exhausted voice.
“Stuckey’s was out of pecan logs,” I said, sliding off of her. My heart pounded with relief as she sat up, slowly testing her limbs.
“What happened to me?” She touched her face and hair, giving me and Noah a puzzled look. “Why am I so disgusting?”
“Joachim.” I pointed at the diamond around her throat. “Keep that thing around your neck at all times, and you’ll keep him away.” I watched her anxiously. “How do you feel?”
“Like I need a vacation,” she said, pushing her hair off her face.
That sounded like the Remy I knew. I reached forward and hugged her close. “Vacation sounds wonderful.” I was getting weepy again.
“How about a road trip?” Noah asked innocently.
We both glared at him.
He chuckled. “I can think of the perfect place to get away from it all. Tropical beaches, exotic temples, just you and a few dozen archaeologists, and a certain investor.”
The dig.
“It sounds horrible to me,” Remy said, her head resting on my shoulder. “I was thinking of something more along the lines of a spa.”
I’d completely forgotten about the big archaeological trip. “What about Dr. Morgan? I haven’t talked to him in days—he’ll think I’ve fallen off the planet.”
Noah shook his head. “I told him that you weren’t going to miss the dig. You have your heart set on going, so I told him there was no way I was going to pull funding.” He glanced at Remy. “I can ask if there’s a spa, though.”
I smiled. “That’s wonderful, Noah. I thought for sure Morgan would have fired me by now.”
“And piss off his biggest financial patron? Not a chance.” Noah got to his feet in one fluid motion. He extended a hand toward Remy and she stood, wobbly and slow. “They leave next week, if you’re still interested in going.”
Remy shuffled to the door. “You guys figure out the trip stuff. I need food.”
Part of me wanted to follow her to assure myself that she was all right, but I put my faith in the necklace—and in Zane. I turned to Noah. “So how can you go with me on the dig?”
“The miracle of modern technology,” Noah said. “One can run a financial business even from the wilds of Panama.”
“Actually, it’s the Yucatán.” I said, dusting off the rice powder covering the undershirt he’d been sleeping in. “You sure don’t know much about the Mayans, for someone who’s putting down a small fortune to get them dug up.”
Noah smiled and wiped a bit of rice powder from my face. “That’s okay. I’m just hoping to get laid. Tell me, is it working?”
“Archaeology in exchange for sex?” I gave him a playful look. “You drive a hard bargain.” I felt a bit guilty at the surge of happiness. My curse was gone, Noah and I were back together, and Remy was all right. I didn’t have Zane, but hopefully that ache would dull with a distraction and time.
And I had nothing but time. I could wait.
Noah arched an eyebrow. “That sounds like a deal to me.”
I slid my hand under his ribbed cotton shirt and said lightly, “As you told me, everyone makes deals in the Afterlife. And I intend to hold you to mine.”
And I did.
Turn the page
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The Succubus Diaries series
by Jill Myles
Coming soon from Pocket Books
At Fred’s subtle touch, my breath caught in my throat.
A small moan of delight escaped me, and I clutched at the sleeve of the man I clung to. “Do it again,” I whispered.
He moved his fingers over the spot once more, his breath coming hard with excitement. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out with sheer pleasure.
“What do you think?” He moved in and murmured huskily in my ear.
Oh God, I was in danger of losing control if he didn’t stop.
“Jackie?”
“Classic Puuc,” I said.
“Do you think so?” He touched the monitor again and zoomed in on the area in question.
Archaeology was better than the best orgasm. My fingers spasmed against his sleeve in excitement. “Oh my God! Stop! Stop right there! Look!”
Fred turned the monitor to me.
I stared at the blocky red shape on the screen of the radar equipment with something akin to utter delight. “
Definite classic Puuc. Look,” I said, pointing at the edge of the red blob with my fingernail. “Thick, heavy veneer stone with a clean edge. These lighter spots around the side suggest doorways cut into the rock. I bet if we dug it up, we’d find a stone relief to rival that of Chichén Itza.” I leaned over the monitor with excitement, my heart slamming in my chest. “Can we pan out to the rest of the jungle?”
Too late, I realized it was a bad idea to lean over the table. Fred leaned over me, plastering his groin against my backside. My co-archaeologist was the possessor of one raging boner.
Ugh. Not again.
“Jackie,” he murmured in my ear. “Forget about the dig for a moment. I need to talk to you.”
I clamped my thighs together tightly, trying to rid myself of the unwanted feelings of pleasure. Yuck. Despite the fact that I didn’t want Fred in the slightest, my stupid cursed body reacted to his touch. I shoved my elbow backward, hard. “You need to get off of me.”
“We’re finally alone.” Fred said. “I wanted to tell you how I feel.” His young face was alight with desire, his dirty brown ponytail damp with sweat. “No one’s around.”
I glanced around and sure enough, the local Mayan workers that we hired to help out around the dig were nowhere to be seen. None of the university team was around, either. That was odd. All the guys at the site were normally so taken with my looks that I couldn’t shake them, no matter what I did. I had an adoring admirer or two following me at all times, even to the port-a-potty.
It really sucked to be supernaturally beautiful.
Fred moved forward to me again and caught my hands. “I’ve been holding back for months, waiting for the right moment.” He pressed a fervent kiss to my hand, despite my efforts to yank it out of his grasp. “You’re so beautiful, Jackie.”
Sigh.
Of course I was beautiful. I was a succubus. We were cursed to have our faces and bodies remolded into that of a man’s ideal fantasy. To think I’d once complained about how mousy my old looks were. I never realized how damned inconvenient it would be to be gorgeous.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” He continued to kiss my knuckles, pressing moist lips against them.
“Fred,” I began. “You do realize that Noah’s going to kick your ass if he sees this?” It was a bluff of course. Noah—my beautiful Serim boyfriend—might glare sternly at Fred or throw some money around to make sure that Fred was removed from camp, but I doubted he’d actually get physical with the guy.
My suitor shook his head. “He’s busy right now. And this might be my only chance to show you how I feel.”
I struggled again to break his grip. Why, oh why weren’t succubi gifted with super strength? I couldn’t think of anyone who needed it more than a hot immortal girl. Men were compelled to fall in love with my new face, and I’d have happily traded it away for the ability to punch the hell out of Fred at the moment.
So I used the only other weapon I had available. I pretended to faint, my limbs going limp in his arms.
As expected, Fred released my hands to catch me as I went down, and I slapped my open palm against his forehead.
It worked; he went down like a light.
I didn’t hit him hard, of course. But his mind shut off with the touch of my hand to his forehead, and he went down for the count.
There was one perk to being a succubus, at least. I could shut down his mind and put him into a deep, dreamless sleep and then pick through his memories. Not the most handy skill, depending on the situation, and I tried not to use it much since it tended to backfire in rather spectacular ways. But desperate times called for desperate moves.
I didn’t let him stay unconscious long. Kneeling beside his prostrate body, I touched his forehead to wake him up again, and patted his hand as if I were worried about him. “Fred? Fred? Are you all right?”
His eyes fluttered open slowly, and focused on me. “What . . . what happened?”
I put on a concerned expression and squeezed his hand. “You were leaning in to kiss me, and you passed out,” I lied.
Fred sat up, cradling his head in his free hand. “I did?”
“You did.” I helped him to his feet, then dusted off his shirt. “Fred, I’m not sure but . . . I think you should go see a doctor.” Step one—lay the trap.
He gave me a concerned look. “What do you mean?”
I forced my eyes wide. “Well, you do know that if you pass out when you get an erection, that’s an early warning sign of extremely high blood pressure. And you’re far too young to have that sort of thing happen to you.”
Brushing the sweaty hair off his forehead, Fred stared blankly. “I’ve never done that before.” His hand went to his wrist, as if checking his pulse.
“Of course not,” I said sweetly, taking him by the elbow and pointing him toward my jeep. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about.” Step two, play to the ego. “You’re a healthy, strong man. It’s probably nothing. But just to be safe, don’t you think you should head into Mérida and get yourself checked out?”
“But . . . the survey equipment . . . the dig . . .”
“There’s nothing that can’t wait until the crew returns later tonight.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket and placed them into his hand. “Why don’t you take my jeep, go to town, spend the night in air conditioning, get checked out by the doctor, and come back in a few days? I’ll explain everything to Mr. Gideon.”
“Everything?” Fred swallowed hard.
I took pity on him. “Almost everything.” I shook my finger at him. “And as long as the rest never happens again, it’ll remain our secret.”
Sorta.
In a daze, Fred climbed into the jeep and started the engine. I tried not to smile too cheerfully as he left, waving as the jeep disappeared down the dirt road into the thick undergrowth of jungle. My problem neatly disposed of, I raced back to the GPR equipment to get another glimpse of those red blobs. To think that we had found another set of outlying buildings! We could expand on the dig, perhaps get another grant from the university!
But Fred’s fall had jostled the computer, and the screen was dark. I tapped the monitor twice before glancing down and seeing the plug hanging out of the socket. I sighed in disgust. Without someone to help me move the bulky surface antenna, I couldn’t do any further radar scans until the crew returned from Mérida.
Annoyed, I packed up the equipment I could and then picked through the clearing of the campsite. We’d decided to set up in the least thickly forested portion of Yuxmal’s ancient grounds, and workers had cleared even more area so we could set up the tent city that had been our home for the past few months.
The tent I shared with Noah was at the edge of camp, near the base of a massive stone pyramid—the discovery that had started the dig. As I approached my tent, I could hear the generator humming, and the sound of rotating fans buzzing. I paused outside—the door-flap was down, which seemed like a bad idea, given the heat and humidity. Inside, I heard a muffled curse.
Noah was here, at least. I ran my long fingernails along the weatherproofed canvas. “Knock knock.”
“Don’t come in,” Noah barked.
I frowned and ignored that, lifting the flap. “What do you mean, don’t come in?”
My jaw dropped at the sight before me. Noah stood in the tent, clad in nothing but boxer shorts, dripping sweat. His blonde hair was plastered to his skull, and beads trailed down his flat, golden abs. A large table filled the middle of the tent, covered with a paper tablecloth that fluttered in the wake of the rotating fans set at each corner of the tent. Two place settings decorated the table, along with a large covered dish. A row of pale candles was lined up in front of Noah, a box of matches in his hand. “What is all this?”
“A surprise. Or it was.” His eyes were bright blue in his golden face, almost as brilliant as the scowl on his face.
I let the flap slide shut behind me, and fanned my hand at my face. In the heat, with the humidity, no amount of rot
ating fans could make the tent feel like less of a sauna. It seemed awfully odd to have an elegant dinner set up in the tent, but that looked like that was Noah’s plan. I was torn between thinking he was sweet, or thinking he was mad. “Where did everyone at camp go?”
“They went to town. Paid vacation day,” he said, irritable as he pulled another match out of the box. “Fred was supposed to keep you busy for another hour.”
I snorted and moved to the far end of the table, where a chair was set out. “If by ‘keep me busy’ you mean declare love for me and try to molest me, I’d say he finished early.”
Noah ran the match along the side of the box, and a small flame flared to life. He leaned toward the closest candle, and it abruptly sputtered as the breeze from the fan blew the match out. He swore again and pulled out another match.
Well, now. Noah seemed a little crankier than usual, but I blamed it on the blue in his eyes. The closer we got to the full moon, the more moody he became as the curse came over him and the need for sex arose.
Of course, the sight of those blue eyes and that delicious, bare, sweaty chest gave me another idea, a rather naughty one. I moved to his side, my finger tracing one runnel of sweat down his chest. I dipped my finger in the damp bead and met his eyes, then tasted the droplet, a blatant suggestion if there ever was one.
“Not now, Jackie,” he said, irritable.
With a sigh, I dropped my hands and went back to the far side of the table and sat down so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again. Another symptom of the full moon curse—Noah was completely and utterly uninterested in sex until the day of the full moon itself (upon which we’d stay in the tent the entire day and have sex until he passed out).
I gave him a bright smile. “So when are you due . . . so we can get back to normal and I can get laid?”
He pulled out another match, glaring at it with all the hate in the world. “The moon rises in two days.”
Well, thank God for that. I did a little fast math in my head. We’d had sex yesterday morning and I would be due tomorrow morning. If I had to wait another day after that . . . well, it’d be miserable as hell, but I wouldn’t die from it. An overdue succubus was an exceedingly horny one, so I’d just have to avoid the other men in the camp for the day or I’d have the men trailing me like I was the Pied Piper of Hamlin.
