Death of a Succubus

by Kim Schubert

  Death of a Succubus

  Kim Schubert

  Facebook: thekimschubert

  Website: www.kimschubert.com

  Copyright © Kim Schubert 2016

  Ebook Cover Design by http://www.ebooklaunch.com

  Smashwords Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Other books by Kim Schubert:

  Dead Shifter Walking, The Succubus Executioner Book 1

  Demigod Down, The Succubus Executioner Book 2

  A Witch’s Fury, The Succubus Executioner Book 3

  A Council of Betrayal, The Succubus Executioner Book 4

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Connect with Me!

  Chapter 1

  It had been six months since we moved into the mansion.

  “Logan, I’m not sure I’m ready,” I whispered to him for the hundredth time.

  He slung a meaty arm around my shoulders as we stood in Ginny’s room gazing at her peaceful form, asleep in her own crib.

  “I understand, but look at her, she’s ready to be in her own room. Besides, we have the video monitor, and she’s only a doorway away.”

  I grunted. I liked her in bed with us. I loved her small form curled up against us. But I had to admit, she was a bed hog.

  “I can’t believe this was a closet,” I muttered.

  Logan laughed quietly as we backed out of the room. “I can’t believe you suggested turning it into a nursery.”

  Once I had seen Logan shirtless, sweaty, and with power tools, I’d have let him work on anything in the house, just to watch.

  He laughed, his lips close to my ear, as he felt my memories. “Glad you enjoyed the show.”

  He softly closed the door between the rooms. He had also soundproofed our room, for obvious reasons.

  I turned, looking at the warm cherry four-poster bed. I had laid my head next to him as pack leader and Mate for the past six months. The legal battles with Grams and Lorraine had been intense, but were finally coming to a close. We just had one more court appearance to make.

  Grams had gotten Kitten. The manor was sold and I took control of the bank accounts. It wasn’t perfect, but I at least wasn’t poor anymore. Tomorrow we would finalize the paperwork.

  But tonight…

  I backed Logan toward the bed and his lion growled low at me.

  “It would be a shame not to test the soundproofing,” I whispered, an evil smile on my lips.

  He dipped his head to mine, ending any other words I might speak. Strong arms snaked around my waist to cup my ass.

  “We’ve had enough quickies in the shower,” he muttered against my lips.

  I smiled, pushing him onto the bed, following him down to straddle him. Logan relaxed against the plush California king mattress, his eyes never leaving me as I stripped off my top. Sizzling palms worked up my sides before unsnapping my bra and tossing it to the ground.

  He growled low, arching off the bed to take one pink nipple in his scorching mouth. I ran my fingers through his caramel locks, exhaling a ragged breath, tilting my head back. My hips moved against him, my body craving him.

  With a boost of his hips, he flipped our positions and I laughed, “I never get to be on top.”

  He nuzzled the larger of my two mate marks and I inhaled liquid fire. “Cheater!” I accused, breathless.

  He chuckled, not bothering to deny the charge.

  He leaned back and stripped me of my yoga pants and undies. Dropping his head down, he laid a trail of kisses up my calf. I flexed my ankle, smiling. His enjoyment of the situation flowed along our mate bond.

  Moving along the back of my knee, he nipped the delicate skin there and I yelped, trying to twist out his grasp. He chuckled, not releasing my flesh. I wiggled against him, wanting him, needing him. Part of that was the mate bond, but honestly, for great sex, I didn’t give a shit.

  His lips toyed over my hipbone and I shifted, trying to get his heated tongue to the good stuff. His hands secured my hips, keeping them still. I growled.

  He ignored it.

  “Logan,” I warned. Patience is not my strong suit; he of all people should know that.

  He smiled as he lowered his head between my legs.

  “Finally,” I exhaled.

  He tilted my hips before taking one long, leisurely stroke. I grunted, my hips twisting against his grip. My mate mark heated up and I bucked against him as he delved deeper into my depths. Every movement was perfect, my own pleasure seeping into our mate bond, giving him expert guidance.

  Logan pressed against the tightly wound bundle of nerves and I exploded in one ear-shattering scream.

  He smiled, and while I gasped from the pleasure seeping into my limbs, he chucked off his clothing. He covered my body again, driving warmth into me where his tongue had just ravished.

  I bucked, curling around him and his sure, fast thrust. He paused, nuzzling the mark again. I dug my nails down into his back. He hissed, drawing his thighs under my own, pinning my hands over my head. He thrust again as our fingers interlaced.

  I tilted my hips and he hit all the right spots. My arms tried to arch off and wrap around him, but his strength and positioning kept me immobile. That just made it hotter. While I had never liked giving up so much control in the bedroom, Logan knew me in ways no other lover had. He could sense my hesitation before the words would leave my lips.

  Knowing my train of thought, he relaxed his hands, bringing my arms around his neck. I held on to him, crying out as his powerful thigh muscles thrust in perfect harmony with my vibrating body, driving me father into bliss.

  My body clenched around him, a gasp leaving my throat before a cry followed, pleasure ripping though my limbs. Wholly engrossed in my own pleasure, I never heard Logan’s own cry before he collapsed on top of me.

  I sighed, shoving him over so I could breathe. He pulled me close, his overheated body smearing sweat all over me.

  I ran small circles over his back until his breathing evened out and his arm became dead weight over me. Looking up at the ceiling and realizing I didn’t feel tired, I rolled over and watched Ginny sleep on the monitor also.

  I was restless. I needed this bullshit with Grams resolved so I could finally move on.

  The Supernatural Council had been running smoothly under Ali and Grant’s new rule. We protected those Supernaturals who lacked the massive clan of the shifters or Houses like the vampires. At least, we tried. My band of fellow executioners traversed the eastern US keeping order and delivering justice. I hadn’t been out lately and it bothered me. My identity throughout the years, ever since I was sixteen, had been based entirely on hunting, killing, and removing threats. If I wasn’t that person anymore, I feared what that meant.

  Don’t get me wrong, being there with Logan and the kids, it was nice. Really nice. I just couldn’t help but feel it would be short-lived for me. I didn’t get to be happy, at least that’s what I’d told myself every other time life shit on me.

  Here I was, unable to sleep again, wondering if I was really cut out for stayi
ng in one place. Often I just felt like I was playing a part.

  Maybe Grams had just shaken my confidence in who I had become, or maybe she had reminded me of who I really was and always would be.

  Either way, I pulled out my current book to pass the time. Logan always woke up if I left, and both of us not sleeping was never pleasant.

  …

  “Hey, wake up,” Logan urged, shaking my shoulder.

  Rolling over, I groaned, “What time is it?”

  “Seven, we’ve got to leave here in thirty minutes.” He kissed my cheek, his stubble scratching.

  I nodded. “I can’t wait until we are back on normal hours.” I sat up with a groan, squinting to see Ginny still asleep in her crib on the monitor.

  “I can’t believe she slept through the night,” I pouted. My midnight companion no longer needed me.

  Logan laughed, shoving me out of bed. With a grunt, I made my way to the bathroom.

  I showered quickly and slipped into the pinstriped pantsuit Logan had laid out. I also couldn’t wait until leather and yoga pants were my normal again.

  I crept toward Ginny’s room, finding the door open and an empty crib. Turning, I headed downstairs, following my nose to the scent of what I was hoping was French toast.

  Laughter greeted me as I walked down the lengthy hall and into the kitchen. The sheer size of this home, or mansion rather, was mind-blowing, easily double that of my beloved manor. I suppose that made sense since we had shifters and kids here all the time. Jerry turned his dark form from the stove, a blue and white striped apron over his black suit. He handed a plate to Mark, who in turn handed it to me.

  I inhaled deeply, taking it over to the long, farm style table that sat sixteen.

  Logan sat across from me, trying to feed Ginny peas in her highchair.

  “She doesn’t like those,” I grunted at him, still half asleep.

  “She needs her veggies,” he countered.

  I rolled my eyes and sent my irritation along the mate bond.

  “Today is the day!” Jerry proclaimed, interrupting our silent communication.

  I smiled as he and Mark sat with us.

  “It most certainly is,” I agreed, my stomach growling.

  “Fork,” Logan commanded, yet again disapproving of my eating habits.

  I glared at him, dumping syrup over my French toast before picking it up and taking a gooey bite.

  “Do not get that on your outfit,” he growled at me, annoyance slamming into the bond.

  I licked the syrup off my fingers.

  Jerry and Mark both cleared their throats at our display.

  I laughed, cleaning my hands with one of Ginny’s wet wipes before picking up my fork.

  “Better?”

  He grunted, right before Ginny smacked the spoonful of peas all over his outfit. I laughed hysterically, along with Ginny.

  Logan wasn’t nearly as entertained.

  “Feed her, I have to change,” he growled.

  I nodded, heading to the fridge for her sweet potatoes.

  Logan re-appeared a few minutes later, adjusting his tie. A knock changed his trajectory, as he headed back up the hallway to the front door.

  “That’s Katie, for the baby,” I crooned to Ginny. Katie was Ginny’s sitter and along with being well versed in several impressive hand-to-hand combat disciplines, she was one of the few people who could get Ginny to sleep without an hour-long screaming fit.

  Katie came in, dropping her purse off on a chair and draping her coat over it.

  “My Ginny bean!” she exclaimed. Ginny squealed, holding her hands out to Katie.

  I laughed, depositing my plate into the sink. “It seems we aren’t needed anymore.”

  I dropped a kiss on Ginny’s cheek.

  “We should be back before lunch, Katie,” Logan said, pulling on his suit jacket. He dipped down to kiss his daughter.

  Mark and Jerry followed us to the mudroom outside the garage. As I stopped, slipping on my uncomfortable shoes, I noticed the longing in their eyes when they looked at Ginny. Their multiple applications to adopt a baby, infant, and toddler had all been rejected. I wished I could help, but even my hands were tied.

  We all filed out to the SUV for, hopefully, our last day of court.

  The case with Lorraine had been tied up months earlier. Logan stayed true to his wishes and didn’t allow Lorraine any visitations, nor did he offer her any funds as compensation. The contract she had signed after Ginny’s birth was binding, and though her attorney threw out the fact that Logan was a hairy shifter, so was Ginny.

  Things finished up quickly after that.

  Grams’s case had taken longer. While my attorney, Sophie, was an impressive beast to be reckoned with, my own temper had called it an early day more than once.

  I stared out the window, drumming my fingers on the armrest.

  “It will be fine, Olivia, relax,” Logan instructed me, picking up on my nerves.

  I grunted. I’d relax when this was over, and then I might kill Grams.

  Tommy had begged me not to and that was the only thing stilling my hand. That and her mastery of the legal system, demonstrated by her naming of the annoying Governor Hash as her beneficiary.

  Logan parked in the underground parking garage. I slipped out of the seat, my hands flexing, uncomfortable with my lack of weapons.

  Logan slipped his hand in mine, tugging me along at his breakneck pace, literally, given the shoes I was wearing. “It’s almost over.”

  I sighed, “Can’t happen soon enough.”

  He squeezed my hand, feeling my turbulent emotions and offering his silent support.

  Jerry and Mark followed close behind us.

  We walked that way into the courtroom, Logan only releasing my hand to let me go up front with Sophie. The swinging gate closed behind me and I took a seat.

  “Have both parties signed the agreement?” the judge began. He was about done with us as well.

  “We have,” Sophia stated, tapping the documents in front of her.

  The judge leaned forward, pushing his glasses down his nose to look at both teams intensely.

  “Are there any problems with the signed documents?” he asked cautiously.

  “No,” Sophie answered.

  The judge turned to Grams’s counsel. He cleared his throat, standing. “No,” he confirmed.

  “Both parties have copies of said agreement?” the judge asked.

  “We do,” both attorneys answered.

  “Well, praise Jesus, we are done,” the judge announced, banging his gavel.

  I turned to Logan, smiling. He returned my expression, reaching over the half wall to take my hands. I closed my eyes. I was free of Grams’s betrayal. A weight was lifted off of me and I exhaled, a smile playing over my lips.

  I turned to Sophie, her face betraying none of her emotions. She stood gracefully. “I expect prompt payment,” she informed me, before turning to shake hands with the opposing counsel and gliding through the swinging door to the exit.

  I stayed seated, watching Grams speak with her counsel before also heading out behind him. A part of me still wondered why. Why she had turned her back on me? I had trusted her and her attempt to release the names and address of every Supernatural we protected still stung to my core.

  But this was a happy day. I pushed those dreary thoughts away, going to Logan’s side as we also exited the courtroom. I never wanted to see her again.

  Outside, I pulled a deep breath of fresh air, letting my mind fully accept that I was free of Grams. I laughed heartily.

  Sophie, outside waiting for us, laughed as well, her cold demeanor left behind for a few minutes. I hugged her tightly in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

  “Enough, woman,” she grunted. I released her, standing a moment before I jumped at Logan. Pain laced my back, forming a pattern of three bursts in quick succession. I tried to draw a breath, my back arching, my body falling forward.

  My knees hit the pa
vement, grinding rocks into the soft flesh there. I tried to break my fall, but my arms wouldn’t respond to my commands.

  My eyes rounded and my voice was gone. I tried to warn Logan, tried to tell him to run.

  A single tear dripped down my cheek as my body went limp. My vision darkened. The breath I desperately needed, denied.

  Even the wailing screams couldn’t rouse me from the darkness.

  …

  “Olivia!” Logan yelled, the sound torn from his very soul. He watched Olivia’s face change from joy and relief to pain and confusion. Red spots blossomed on her blouse, a blouse he had picked out himself for her. Disbelief and searing heat exploded inside of him, flowing along the mate bond.

  He watched her reach down and touch the sticky blood seeping through her chest before her gaze found his. She tried to breathe. Logan watched her try, felt her panic when she couldn’t.

  “Olivia!” he bellowed again. Time slowed as he reached out for her, her sea green eyes wide and unseeing. His heart constricted as she fell against him limply. He clutched her closely, turning and tearing his expensive Italian suit at its knees in his attempt to block any other potential shots with his own body as they fell.

  Jerry screamed a word in a language Logan didn’t understand.

  “Move!” Mark bellowed, reaching under Logan’s arm to help him up.

  Logan wasted no time scooping up Olivia’s body easily. Feeling the warm blood making her back slick, he moved her inside. Turning to look, he saw Jerry holding an opaque shield in place as he ran to join them.

  Logan laid her down on the cool marble, tearing off his jacket to press against the three bullet holes gushing blood out onto the floor beneath her.

  “She’s not breathing,” Logan whispered. He lifted his head, seeing Mark and Jerry rushing in with Sophie.

  Jerry’s knees gave out as he ran, sending him sliding to Olivia’s head. “She’s not moving,” he whispered.

  “She’s not breathing,” Logan repeated, a numbness creeping into his chest, tightening and shortening his breath.

  Jerry braced his hands on either side of her head. Pale light glowed around her face. “Don’t you fucking die on me,” Jerry hissed, holding her head. “Don’t you fucking die, Olivia,” he wheezed, his voice broken.