by L. L. Frost
I blame her behavior on the mentality of suburban living. In a big city, I wouldn’t stand out so much. Of course, in a big city, opening a boutique bakery would be ridiculously expensive.
As I reach the entryway, a bicycle courier leaves the building, and I wait patiently while he hovers in the doorway to don a neon-yellow racer helmet. It perfectly matches the bike locked to the lamp-post out front. When he finally moves his spandex covered self out of the way, I head inside the office building.
The lobby splits off into two large businesses on either side, with a bank of mailboxes down the middle and an elevator at the far end. Julian’s office is on the fifth floor. Call me lazy, but I head to the back to take the elevator. Not like I need the exercise. I have a perfect ass, thank you succubus DNA.
HelloHell Delivery is one of six businesses on the fifth floor, though it takes up the most space. Julian even went out of his way to have a special door made that proudly proclaims the company name. I push past it into a sea of chaos, Julian at its center.
He looks healthier than I expected him to after a run-in with cousin Cassandra. Pink fills his cheeks, giving him a dew flushed, sultry glow. Of course, he had ample time to pop into dreamland and refill whatever energy the evil succubus stole from him.
He barely spares me a glance as I enter. He holds a clipboard in front of his chest and yells orders to the imps who scurry around him. “I need twelve imps at Peachy Peaches in ten minutes!”
He grabs the collar of a petite woman as she rushes past and scowls down at her. “Not you! Come on people! We’re selling sex here! This is a catering job at a hot, new strip club! If you don’t look good in peach colored vinyl, you’re not going!”
A short man rushes up, his arms filled with white t-shirts. “Mr. Poe, I have the rest of the uniforms.”
Julian snatches one and shakes it out to reveal a giant peach printed over the bust. From where I stand, it looks like exposed cleavage. “Shirts off, people! Let’s see how these jiggle!”
Julian waves me over as imps around the room shrug out of their business suits.
I duck a flying tie as I wind through them. “Julian, I need some info.”
“Don’t we all, darling?” His gaze rakes over me. “Fitness bunny? Please say you have a tail and ears?”
A shirt hits me in the back of the head, and I grab it off my shoulders, ready to toss it aside. But I have second thoughts and tuck it under my arm instead. Finders keepers. I shake my head at my cousin. “Nope.”
“That’s too bad.” He purses his lips in thought. “I might have a set in the office. You can borrow them if you want.”
“I think I’ll pass,” I say drily.
“Of course, you will.” His attention shifts over my shoulder. “No, Philip! Bad imp! Boys wear the white mesh! Did you get those nipples pierced like I told you?”
The name pings in my memory, and I twist around to get a look at the imp. Brown hair flops over his forehead and almost masks his giant brown eyes. With narrow shoulders and delicate frame, he resembles a child.
My lip wrinkles in distaste. Julian thought I’d feed from someone like that? I’m almost thankful I mistook Tobias as my meal delivery.
“I tell you,” Julian grumbles, “Imps. They’re almost not worth it.”
Turning back to him, I arch an eyebrow. “You pay them half what you would a human.”
“I said almost, darling.” His foot taps with impatience. “So, what do you need to know?”
“Skimming. I’ve heard it won’t keep me alive indefinitely?”
His eye twitches. “Who’s been filling your pretty little head with stories?”
Relief rushes through me, so fast my knees tremble. “So, it’s not true?”
His gaze darts away. “Tabitha, remind me to send you to a boob doctor this weekend. We need to fix that chest.”
I can’t help but follow his stare to a tanned woman with a D-cup, tipped with dusky rose nipples. “Breast reduction?”
“Bite your tongue!” Julian whacks me on the arm with his clipboard.
“The skimming, Julian.” When his gaze skitters away once more, I duck to stay in his line of sight. This close, I see the outer rim of his colored contacts as he glares at me.
He sighs in exasperation. “You have to understand how truly pathetic you were, darling.”
I rear back, my wings grating against my spine in instant offense. “What are you saying?”
“I thought you’d get over this whole humanitarian thing”—he shudders hard enough to bounce the white curls on his head—“you’re obsessed with and go back to draining humans the right way.”
“So it’s true?” My arms wrap protectively around my stomach. “I’ll die if I just keep skimming?”
“I’m honestly surprised you’ve lasted this long.” He smiles brightly and pats my shoulder. “Maybe that means it’s not just your ability to enter dreamland that’s broken. Maybe you’re storing energy differently from the rest of us.”
“So, what?” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice, and my eyes sting with his callousness. “You would have just let me die?”
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” He glances down at his clipboard, then checks his watch. “Survival instincts kick in before that happens.”
My back stiffens. “You’d have me attack a helpless human?”
“Take one of my imps if you’re so squeamish.” He grabs the nearest one and gives her a shake. The peach stretched across her boobs barely jiggles. “You can have this one. I’ll even give you a discount.”
I back up a step in distaste. “No, thanks.”
“Your loss.” He shoves her away then nabs a white t-shirt and holds it up in front of my chest. “Want to make some extra cash and get your freak on?”
“No.”
“See, I try to help, but you just don’t want it.” He checks his watch again. “It’s go time, people!”
He waves his arms at the back door and marches toward it, followed by a tide of imps in white t-shirts and peach, vinyl pants.
I follow after him. “Julian, I have more questions.”
“No time, darling!” He holds the door and herds everyone through.
I pause to glance in the direction of his office. Maybe I can find some answers in there? At the very least, I’m sure I’ll locate the new password for my evite account. I need to get on the website and dis-invite the cousins from the house warming party Julian invited them to.
As if he reads my mind, Julian’s hand encircles my wrist, and he tugs me onto the back landing. “Off you go, Adie dear! You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”
The one-way door swings shut with finality, and I have no other option but to follow the mass exodus of imps to the ground floor.
I stomp down the concrete steps. “When do you have time to talk?”
“All booked up for the next few weeks.” He glances over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be asking your mentor this kind of stuff? I’ve already told you more than I have to.”
“Landon is…”
“Lacking.” He bangs his hand on the metal railing, and it rings through the stairwell. “Whoever’s in front better start running!”
“But, Julian”—I hate the whine in my voice as I stop myself from tugging on his sleeve—“how am I supposed to learn anything?”
“Be proactive.” The imps in front of him move into a jog, and we pick up speed.
We reach the ground floor, and the imps pile into the back of one of the delivery vans like a bunch of sardines.
Julian runs to the driver’s side. I rush to catch the door before he closes it. “I’m trying here, but I need more to go on.”
“Self-educate yourself.” He yanks on the handle, and I pull my fingers out of the way before he slams the door shut. He leans out the window as he slides his sunglasses on. “That’s why we have a library.”
The van stutters to life and I back away. “But I can’t read the books!”
&
nbsp; “Then learn to use a dictionary!” With a wave, he screeches out of the parking lot.
***
Whoever decided to put the portal to the demon clerk’s office at a high school showed a new level of sadistic humor. Nothing like messing with the already fragile minds of the human educators by letting them see a lava demon heading to the equipment shed that sits alongside the football field. As I park near the back of the parking lot, my car blends in with the student vehicles, and I climb out.
The lava demon nods politely at me as I hurry over. The misshapen handle, warped from repeated contact with elemental demons, glows red hot. I use a foot to hold the door open while I wait my turn to enter. Beyond the doorframe, stacks of blue pads give off the unpleasant odor of mildew and teenage sweat. My skin tingles as I walk through door. Instantly, the equipment shed vanishes, leaving the white marble floor of the entry demon hall.
Black footprints scorch a path to the claims office, and I happily hurry past it, glad my ass won’t be warming one of those hard plastic seats today. I skirt by a trio of sirens, the air around them heavy with salt, and duck under an inquisitive tendril of blue hair that floats toward me.
The hall that leads to the library is empty, the double doors shut against casual passersby. Confident, I dig my wallet out of my briefcase and pull out my library card to swipe it beneath the scanner on the wall.
It crackles for a moment before a voice snaps, “What?”
I lean in close to the speaker. “Adie Pond to see the librarian, please.”
A loud grunt comes through. “You again?”
My shoulders hunch as I cringe. “Yes, ma’am.”
I step away from the intercom as the door swings open. Out zips the crone on her red scooter. It hums quietly as she circles around me, and the sharp brush of nails skim along my back before she chirps to a stop on my right.
Her head swivels independent from her body as she stares up at me, the deep folds of her eyelids masking her sight. “Well, at least you’ve showered.”
Heat fills my cheeks. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Come along, then.” She revs the handle bars and zips back into the library, careening around the doorframe and out of view.
I follow at a slower pace, waiting for the tingles against my skin that mean I passed through the portal.
Unlike my last visit, today’s library smells of musky smoke and perfume, underlain with salt and a hint of sweat. My tongue darts across my lips with an instinctive need to taste. Dim, ambient light fills the room, the source invisible. Instead of the vast, never ending pillars of book cases, the library is now filled with chests and baskets that rest next to piles of pillows. Sheer curtains break up the space to form reading nooks, the thin, silky fabric fluttering from a gentle breeze.
My limbs shake with the sudden desire to ensconce myself inside one, to curl around a pillow and allow myself to rest.
A grunt comes from my left, drawing my attention as the crone hefts herself up onto her stool behind the checkout desk. The long length of ancient furniture remains the same as before, the top scratched and dull in places, the edge dinged next to where she parks her scooter.
I walk over as she pulls out her old keyboard and poises her sharp talons over the keys. “What are you looking for, today?”
My fingers curl around the edge of the desk as I lean forward. “I need to know more about succubi.”
“Obviously.” She waves a hand to indicate the sultry room. “Be more specific.”
“Feeding?” My voice rises at the end, making me sound hesitant. I clear my throat. “I’d like to know more about the different ways to feed.”
“Imagination not enough for you?” She chortles to herself and taps at the computer. A moment later, the quiet whir of a printer sounds. She reaches beneath the counter and pulls out a sheet of paper, passing it to me. “This should do it.”
I read the single title listed and glare at her. “I’ve already memorized the Complete Illustrated Kama Sutra.”
“Glad to hear it. I was a little concerned about what they were teaching young demons these days.” She folds her hands on the desk, her head tilting to one side. “What do you really need to know?”
“I was taught to skim energy through touch, but recently someone told me it won’t sustain me. Are there any books on that?”
Her lips curl, revealing a hint of black teeth. “Your mentor should have taught you this in the first twenty years of training.” Her body spins back to the keyboard while her head stays facing me. “You should file a complaint so they get black listed from taking on any other new succubi or incubi.”
“I’ll consider it.”
While Landon hasn’t been the best mentor, I don’t want him to get in trouble, either. If he hadn’t collected my ball of energy, I would have simply dissipated with the spring storm that birthed me. I still don’t know what motivated him to pick me up. Maybe he thought caring for me would be like his butterfly garden?
The printer whirs again, and she hands me a new sheet of paper, this one with a short list of books on it, in a language I can’t read. I remember the odd lines and dots that had filled the pages of the books about Tobias, Kellen, and Emil. I needed more than pictures this time.
Sighing, I glance up at her. “I don’t suppose these come in English?”
“I have a translation dictionary I can loan you.” The skin around her eyebrows shift, and I get the impression I amuse her. She confirms that when she sweetly adds, “It’s in Latin. You speak Latin, right?”
“No.” She’s mocking me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Landon really did screw me over on this whole training thing. “I don’t suppose you have a Latin to English dictionary, too?”
“This is a library.” She sniffs with disdain. “Of course, we do.”
“Then, I’ll take that one, too.” I wait for the next print out with the location of both dictionaries, then glance back at her. “How long is the check out window on these?”
“One month, then you can request to check them out again.”
Great. I just hope the books come with some sort of index to speed up the learning process. This self-education thing is going to take time. While I might have all of eternity to learn, I only have a roommate contract for a year. And I have a business to start. And Emil’s condictions to meet.
Nibbling my lip for a moment, I ask, “I don’t suppose there’s a reference book for how to read non-sexual desires?”
She cackles, black tongue lolling. “Now, we’re getting to the fun stuff. What else do you want to learn?”
I lean my elbows on the counter. “What does the librarian suggest?”
Bargain Dessert
A rush of cool air sweeps through the warm kitchen, followed by the sound of heavy footfalls in the entryway. Emil and Tobias must be home from the bank. The rest of the day passed faster than I expected. Time flies when I have fresh ingredients and a gourmet kitchen to play in.
Tac’s head lifts, his ears swiveling as he stares at the archway in expectation. One large paw rests over the stem of his new favorite toy, a Tiffany lamp he purloined from the basement. The dragonfly shade looks worse for wear, the leading between the glass pieces beginning to break down under the giant beast’s affection. If Kellen is to be believed, Tac used to eat knights whole so he should be safe with a smallish lamp.
The scent of sweet, buttery sugar wafts up from the pan on the stove, and I stir it slowly to break down the bubbles. Attached to the side of the pan, the red line on the candy thermometer registers just under the Soft Ball marking. My mouth waters with anticipation of the homemade caramel sauce.
I promised Tac a bowl of ice cream later in order to convince him to stay on the dining room side of the kitchen while I worked. When I set the ingredients on the counter to make stew, I thought I’d have a fight on my hands, especially when I unwrapped the rump roast, but Tac merely stared with hungry fixation until all of the ingredients disappeared into the stock pot before
he lay down to nap. The dough for the bread hadn’t peaked his interest at all, and it now cools on the counter, its crust golden and crackling.
Tobias loosens his tie as he walks into the kitchen. “I see you found the apron I left for you.”
I found it on the kitchen counter when I got home. It had come with a card that read For your bakery. —T. Tobias’s half assed attempt at an apology while not being apologetic at all.
“Thank you for the gift.” I check the temperature on the caramel before glancing at him. “It’s a bit frilly.”
The white ruffles that edge the flouncy thing stick out so far I worry they’ll catch on fire while I work. But the thin material of my new pink uniform offers little protection from accidental splashes. Safety before fashion.
Tobias’s gaze takes in the meal I made, and his nostrils flare. “Isn’t this too much for one person?”
My eyebrows lift. “Who said I’m eating alone?”
Emil comes into the kitchen, nose in the air. “What smells so good?”
“A bribe.” I snap off the burner, the blue flame vanishing, and lift the saucepan from the stove, transferring it to the waiting trivet.
Interest fills Tobias’s voice as he sets his briefcase on the counter and settles onto a stool. “What kind of negotiation?”
Reaching back, I pull the bow free and lift the apron over my head to set it on the counter, well out of range of the hot stove.
Tobias’s eyes widen as he takes in my outfit. “What are you wearing?”
My spine straightens, and I push my boobs out to stretch the tiny t-shirt even tighter across my breasts. Until now, I hadn’t been completely sure Tobias wasn’t in on this prank. “Kellen decided I needed a wardrobe change.”
Emil slips onto a stool. “She wore that to the bank this morning.”
“You went out in public like that?” Tobias’s gaze rakes over my body, lingering on the thin strip of skin that shows at my stomach. “Why didn’t you just buy new clothes?”
