Succubus Lost (Files from the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, #2)

by Tiffany Allee

  “Expanding his product line.” Costa sipped his beer and ignored the dirty look I shot him.

  “People aren’t products,” I said, finally.

  He rubbed his face with his free hand. “I’m not saying they are. But to some people they might as well be.”

  “I just—” I took a haggard breath and let it out slowly.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m getting emotional today.

  I feel like I’m going to blow up.”

  “Have a beer.” He tossed me one and I groaned.

  “Seriously? Beer is nasty.” I looked at the label and grimaced.

  “That’s good beer. I won’t have you insulting it in my house.” He grinned at me and I chuckled at his stupid joke, some of the tension finally seeping out of my shoulders.

  I took a sip and made a face at him. He smiled at me and my heart jumped. The man was a hottie—there was no way around it.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Costa held my eyes with his own, humor suddenly gone from his expression. “My brother,” he said, voice rough.

  “Pardon?”

  “My brother was married to a succubus. She…” He took a quick drink of the whiskey and swallowed hard.

  “Well, she fit the stereotype.”

  “That’s why you were so suspicious of me? So weird about how I was acting? Just because you knew one slutty succubus?” I glared at him. “Give me a break.” Costa shook his head. “I’m sorry, but she really did a number on him. Fed from him, thralled and messed around with his friends. She even—” He stopped, took a drink from his beer. “It doesn’t matter now. I shouldn’t have assumed that all succubi were like her.”

  “She tried to seduce you, didn’t she?” He stared at his beer and his face reddened as I watched.

  “She got fucking close to succeeding, too.” He looked up and his eyes met mine. They’d darkened to salamander black, and it was as if I could feel heat radiating from him.

  “My brother walked in with her wrapped around me half-naked. We haven’t spoken since.”

  My chest constricted, and for a few agonizing moments I couldn’t speak. I took in his bleak expression as he turned his attention back to his whiskey, and I finally found my voice. “It wasn’t your fault. He shouldn’t blame you.”

  “I almost fucked his wife; of course he should blame me!” The beer bottle cracked in his grip, and he tossed it into the small trashcan by his feet.

  “When succubi have fed on someone, they get power.

  She used her powers on you, and they would have been impossible for you to resist while you were in her presence.” I kept my tone calm, but inside, my mind reeled at the idea. I’d known of succubi who would drink the essence of their partners for power and not stay with them. It was a risky practice that could lead to mental instability in the succubus. But for one to drink for a long period of time from one man and then still be willing and able to seduce and take from others?

  The woman had to be a sociopath.

  “You don’t know that for sure.” His voice cracked, as if he doubted the truth of my words himself.

  “I do know. You’re a lot of things, Costa, but you’re not the type to seduce his brother’s wife.” I forced a small smile. “A bit of a wimp when it comes to being a passenger in a car driven by a perfectly good driver, but you’re a good man.”

  Something like hope lit up his face, and his gaze turned from bleak to hungry. I slid my gaze down his strong arms, his muscled chest, and then back to his eyes. He blinked and his eyes changed again, but before I could take them in, he was pulling me to my feet and into his arms.

  His lips touched mine as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Softly, his hands stroked my back, one settling on my lower back and the other moved down to graze my ass.

  As he tugged me closer to him I gasped against his lips. He pulled back from my mouth and held me against him. His body was so hard, and I could feel how much he wanted me as he pressed against my stomach.

  He stepped back and looked at me, anything but expressionless. Tense, his face was raw with desire. I knew I looked the same to him, and I didn’t care.

  “I don’t want to take advantage,” he said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “This is an emotional time for you...”

  “You’re not taking advantage.” I trailed my fingers down his chest, just grazing his shirt. “I am a succubus—”

  “I know that doesn’t mean—”

  “Hush,” I whispered. “Let me finish. The fact that you confided in me and trusted me enough to tell me what happened to you…” His expression darkened, so I pushed past the personal. “And that you followed my lead on the investigation, listened to my idea—it means a lot.

  Not everyone takes me seriously. Not beyond my ability to get confessions from testosterone-driven young men, anyway.”

  He frowned. “You’re a first-class investigator, Mari.” He couldn’t have said anything sexier.

  I tugged on his shirt and he lowered his face for another kiss. His lips were hot on mine as he pulled me against him, but his skin was slightly cool to the touch. It seemed to grow warmer with each passing moment.

  I wondered for a brief moment if this was a stupid idea, but then dismissed the worry. Whatever else he might be, Valerio Costa was a good man, and a good cop.

  I was a succubus, and nothing would clear my mind and make me feel better than a good roll in the hay. I wouldn’t feed from him. Taking energy from another person bound them to the succubus and vice versa. It was a sharing process that connected the woman and her lover through emotion and even memory. This would be something far more fleeting—a rush to get through the sorrow.

  I tugged at Costa’s shirt, barely reaching the last two buttons before he yanked it off his shoulders. The white T-shirt he wore underneath soon followed, and I stopped for a moment to appreciate the view. The man was built.

  His height—he had to be at least six foot three inches—

  hid the amount of muscle he carried, making him appear lean. But he wasn’t thin—far from it. I felt small standing next to him, no easy feat for a woman nearly six feet tall in her work-height heels.

  Costa kissed me again before his mouth slid down my neck to kiss my collarbone and shoulder. His hands ran down my sides and back up, almost tickling in their softness. He pulled my blouse over my head, and then ever so slowly, grazed my bra-covered breast with the back of his fingers.

  My face heated as he took in my sexy bra. The panties matched, and the set was like all of my underthings—

  pretty, overpriced, and made of very little fabric. I didn’t like to flaunt my succubus nature in the open—aside from when it helped me solve cases—but I did allow myself a bit of hidden allure.

  “You’re so beautiful, my bella,” he whispered, and my heart dropped.

  You’re more than beautiful to him, remember? And somehow, armed with that knowledge, the compliment seemed more real. Like something I’d actually earned.

  Like something worth mentioning.

  I melted into his arms and he pulled me closer, groaning into my mouth. He made quick work of my bra and the rest of my clothes while I took off his. I wanted—

  needed to feel him against me, inside me.

  Suddenly, we were on the bed. He was on top of me and he trailed kisses down my neck and to my chest.

  He took my nipple into his mouth and sucked while he massaged my other breast with his hand. Then he traced my skin as he moved his hand down, trailing heat as he slid it down my stomach. Ever so softly, he moved his hand between my legs.

  When he touched me, I jumped.

  “Easy,” he whispered.

  I could only moan in response as he palmed me, and then slid a finger into my heat. I gasped as he rubbed my most sensitive spot in a way that almost pushed me over the edge. Desperation touched me, and I suddenly needed him so badly I ached.

  Could it really feel this good? The man was obviously an expert, but still. I’d never been
shy about my succubus nature. I’d slept with men before—more than my fair share, probably. But with him...it was different. I could feel him, feel his energy—so close I just had to reach out to touch it, to taste him. So tempting…

  The thought stilled me, and my mind whirled. I was not tempted to touch him with my succubus powers. No, I’d never been tempted, not really. Did I already care about him that much?

  My racing thoughts must have shown on my face, because he touched my chin lightly and stared into my eyes. “No thinking. Just feel.” He rubbed his body against mine, and I could feel his cock between my legs, brushing against my wetness. I gasped and he smiled. “Yeah, bella.

  Just like that.”

  He moved his mouth to my nipples, and he sucked and nibbled them until I moaned. Pulling back, he watched me as he blew on one, making me shiver, and then he took it into his mouth again. Almost rough, he plucked and rolled and sucked until I couldn’t think of anything but him. Then he slid down my front, kissing and licking his way until I could feel his breath against my inner thighs. I tensed in anticipation, and he nipped at my sensitive flesh.

  Finally, he kissed me there. I gasped as his tongue touched me, caressed me, pushed me to the brink. And then lights flashed, my body tensed, and I fell over the edge, crying his name.

  His chest brushed against my already sensitive breasts as he moved over me. His eyes met mine. Black, they were devoid of white cornea or pupil or iris. The mark of a salamander—the eyes that were so similar to their inhuman cousins. As he slid into me, I moaned and closed my eyes, forgetting the strangeness of his.

  He moved within me, thrusting hard, in delicious rhythm that had me gasping for air and clinging to him.

  He reached between us and touched me, rubbing softly in rhythm with his thrusts. Stars clouded my vision and I whispered his name. He grunted and pushed into me hard, before spasming against me. I gripped the sheets and he threw back his head, calling my name.

  Chapter Eleven

  Costa’s arms were wrapped around me when I woke the next morning. My first instinct was to burrow deeper into the covers and my second was to flee. I’m generally the sort of girl who follows her first instinct, so I snuggled a little closer. Costa murmured in his sleep and his embrace tightened around me.

  The night had been magnificent and, despite the passion, I’d gotten more rest in his bed than I had on my own all week. I grinned to myself. Exercise was good for sleep.

  I traced his smooth skin with my fingertips, and he wrapped his arms around me more tightly. God it felt good to be held. So good. Too good.

  I blinked at the clock on the nightstand. Only seven.

  We needed to get a move on, but at least we hadn’t really overslept. He mumbled something and took a deep breath against my hair. I smiled. No reason we had to go right now. An extra half an hour certainly couldn’t hurt.

  A moment passed before I processed the click of the lock giving way. By then, the door was opening. I sat up, holding the sheet against my chest, and reached over to the nightstand. I tugged my gun from its holster and pointed it at the doorway.

  Or to be more accurate, I pointed my gun at the gorgeous redhead who strolled into the room, carefully balancing donuts and coffee in her hands.

  We stared at each other for a moment. Her green eyes narrowed, and then she raised an eyebrow at the man next to me. Costa pushed himself up on his elbows, and he frowned at our uninvited guest.

  “What are you doing here, Beatrice?” I glanced at him. Was she uninvited after all?

  “Maybe you should get your little girlfriend to drop the gun before you start asking me stupid questions, Val.” Her voice was rich and smooth, and lower-pitched than I would have guessed. Sultry, that was the word.

  “Put down the gun, Mari. This is my partner, Beatrice Davis,” he mumbled. Costa sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

  I frowned at him but lowered the gun.

  “Jesus, Val. I knew you were hoping to use the succubus to lure out the perp, but I didn’t know you were going to have to fuck her to do it.” The redhead grimaced and set the coffee and donuts on the desk.

  My hand flew to my mouth, and self-loathing coursed through me like a vile drug sent directly to my veins. A weight settled in on my chest, and I went very still. Use the succubus? Lure out the perp? Didn’t know he’d have to fuck her to do it?

  “Get the fuck out of here, Beatrice,” Costa said, voice low and hard. Dangerous.

  Beatrice shrugged and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever, I’ll be in the lobby while you two...

  finish up in here.”

  The door slammed behind her, and I flinched.

  “Don’t let her get to you,” Costa said, voice tight. But anger didn’t cover his face, guilt did. He wouldn’t meet my eyes; instead he looked down. “Last time I leave a key for her. She can wait for me if she needs files from now on.” His expression carried all the confirmation I needed.

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I had to get out.

  I grabbed my clothes and yanked them on. Costa was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t pause to listen to his bullshit. I had to go.

  He grabbed me by my shoulders. “Listen to me, bella.” I stepped back, staring at the floor, and he released me. I couldn’t look at him. If I looked at him I would cry.

  And there was only so much humiliation I could take in one morning.

  “Don’t touch me,” I finally rasped out. “You will never fucking touch me again.” I shoved past Costa and ran for the door. He didn’t stop me.

  To my utter horror, tears started to leak down my face as soon as I reached the lobby. I moved outside quickly, keeping my head down, and silently praying that Costa’s partner wouldn’t see me as I shuffled through the doors.

  Once I hit the sidewalk, I strode to my car. Costa could find his own ride back to the station.

  I hadn’t cried when Elaine was taken—not really. I hadn’t cried when I’d learned what they were going to do to her if I didn’t find her in time and stop them. But this—

  crying over a man? What the hell was wrong with me? Oh sure, it didn’t help that this hit on top of everything else.

  And the piece of my mind that remained rational realized that given all the stressors in my life—not to mention the lack of sleep—this wasn’t exactly a crazy response. That it was probably a delayed reaction, having more to do with Elaine than Costa and his rude partner. But the rest of my mind thought I was shallow. And so I cried harder.

  I wallowed in my misery as I drove to my house. I couldn’t do anything for Elaine until I got home and pulled calmed down, so I parked on the side of the road for a few minutes, quit fighting the tears, and let them fall.

  Once I’d gotten myself somewhat together and parked in front of my townhouse, I trudged up to my front door, not even bothering to pretend I walked with any sort of dignity.

  Flipping Costa.

  I took a quick shower, finally letting loose the last of my tears under the hot stream of water. I let the heat wipe away the pain and anger and humiliation. I let it comfort me.

  Numb, I got dressed and then made myself a cup of tea. I sat down at my dining room table. I had to focus on finding Elaine, on figuring this out. Whatever Costa had intended anyway—using me as bait aside—didn’t seem to be working. The perp was either too smart to try to kidnap a cop, especially a cop working his case, or I didn’t fit the bill in some other way. I wasn’t exactly in the age range of the average victim—just a touch too old.

  I pulled out the case files and started scanning them again, one by one. I made a list of the cities we knew about, and approximate date ranges that the kidnapper would need to have been in those cities. There were gaps, but I would bet that more than a few of those piles of ash had never been discovered, in who knows what cities, or—

  less likely—that some of the succubi who had disappeared had never been reported missing.


  According to my list, the perp would have been in Phoenix before Chicago—kidnapping a succubus there.

  And prior to that, Anchorage, where a pile of ashes proving to be those of an unknown otherworlder was found near a police station.

  I’d take it to Natalie, I decided. She hadn’t called yet saying she’d found anything, but the information couldn’t hurt for her to have. It might make her search quicker, and an obvious suspect might even become apparent. Hope surged within me and suddenly I was on my feet, full of energy, and barely able to stop myself from racing out the door.

  I called Natalie’s office as I walked to my car. No answer, but I figured she’d probably be in by the time I was able to drive there, so I headed for her office first. I drove with the radio blasting, focusing fully on the notes pounding in my brain to avoid thinking of anything else. But thoughts of Valerio Costa trickled in, forcing Bon Jovi’s lyrics right out of my head. His crazy black salamander eyes—eyes that should have been creepy, but were somehow intensely sexy. The conviction in his voice when he insisted I was a good investigator. And the way his arms held me, so safely against him while I slept.

  Oh boy.

  I skidded around a turn, glaring at the car behind me as they mashed their horn. No. I was not falling for Valerio Costa. I was not. The man had used me as bait.

  Even worse, he hadn’t told me that was part of the plan.

  Why had he slept with me? Because he wanted to keep me in his room in case the kidnapper came looking for me? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I was just overreacting because of the stress of Elaine’s kidnapping.

  But what if I wasn’t?

  A great weight settled onto my chest, pushing the air from my lungs, the hope from my thoughts. So I drove fast, sang loud, and did everything I could to keep Valerio Costa out of my head and away from my heart.