Taste Me

by Tamara Hogan

  This succubus was her friend, and the incubus jamming his hands into his streaky, shoulder-length hair across the table was her boss.

  She should have known that something was just a little… off. Both Lukas and Sasha were preternaturally attractive—physical ideals, really—even if Lukas dressed more like hired muscle than the owner of the company. And Sasha was gorgeous, with fine bone structure and a delicately muscled body. Wiry and tough, she was built like the dancer she’d been before a blown ACL had halted a promising professional career in its tracks.

  She stole a glance across the table at Jack. Her longtime friend watched her closely. Appearance-wise, Jack fit right in, though he’d assured her just a few minutes ago that he was as human as the next guy.

  As long as the next guy wasn’t an incubus. Or a vamp. Or a werewolf.

  Earth still spun on its axis, molecules combined, and gravity still pulled objects to the ground, but Bailey’s reality had taken a quick hairpin turn. Just about everything she remembered reading about incubi and succubi had negative religious overtones, with the God-fearing women of the Middle Ages swearing to the heavens—and to their judgmental neighbors and clergy—that while their husbands had been away at war, demons had come to them in the night, impregnating them. Considering the beauty and charisma of both Sebastianis—hell, the whole damn family—Bailey could see how night visitors this gorgeous just might make you do something you wished you could take back the next morning.

  She now had a better understanding of why Jack rarely met Sasha Sebastiani’s eyes if he could possibly avoid it.

  She took a deep breath and sat up straight in the slouchy leather conference room chair. Jack, Lukas, and Sasha were waiting for her to suck it up and deal. “Okay, I’m fine,” she told the three of them. “Curious, yes, and Jesus, do I have a lot of research to do,” she muttered. “But there has to be a reason you told me this now. What’s up?”

  “I knew this wouldn’t knock you for a loop for very long.” Sasha shot a fake smile at Jack. “It took some people a lot longer.”

  Jack simply resumed his typing.

  “I’ll be honest, I have so many questions, and I don’t know where to start. But what do I need to know right now?” Bailey said. And why does Lukas look so wiped out?

  The conference room’s integrated projection screen lit up the wall behind Lukas, illuminating his face with its phosphorescent glow. He levered himself out of the chair, dimmed the lights, and stayed standing, leaning against the wall, in the shadows, behind Jack. For someone so large, the man moved like smoke.

  Bailey looked to the screen where the familiar-looking Sebastiani Inc. website was displayed. Now they were talking. She’d regain her footing more quickly if she could analyze some data. Jack scrolled down to the bottom center of the page, to where a very small globe twirled and sparkled. He clicked on it, and then drew his index finger across a pad on his laptop. Then he lifted his head and winked.

  So, she was finally going to find out what was behind the damn firewall. She’d bumped up against it a couple of times, had circled around it like a wolf cornering prey, but she’d backed off. It had almost killed her, but she’d backed away, not just punched through the damn thing. Because it would have been so damn easy. Her fingers practically twitched as she watched Jack at his keyboard.

  “We need you to tighten this up,” Lukas said matter-of-factly.

  She nodded like this was a request she received every day, but her curiosity spiked like a pegged CPU. What was out here that needed more than strong passwords and fingerprint recognition?

  When the screen came back up, it displayed a website that looked very much like the site they’d just come from, except there were now several additional navigational controls presented at the left side of the screen. Jack cruised his mouse over an “Archives” link that hadn’t been there before, and then clicked on a link which now read “Council Members” instead of “Board Members.” She had to chuckle when Jack clicked again, displaying an org chart. Apparently even extraterrestrial beings couldn’t escape PowerPoint.

  “The Underworld Council is our governing body,” Lukas said. “Each species is represented by one representative, and that representative chooses a backup—a second, if you will.”

  “A term from the days of dueling,” Sasha added, extending her arm like she carried an épée. “‘Name your second.’ ‘En garde!’” She tilted her head. “We like to think that things are much more civilized these days.”

  “Bullshit,” Lukas grumbled.

  Bailey could almost feel her synapses snap as she skimmed the information. Carl Sagan? Jack? She blinked, and then swallowed audibly. Yes, that was Jack’s name next to Lukas’s in its neat little box. Humans were members of the Underworld Council?

  “The Underworld Council governs Earth’s non-human species. These are the current representatives,” Lukas said. He pointed to the bottom of the list. “As you can see, there have been some recent changes. After long deliberation, a human was asked to join the Council about twenty years ago. Unfortunately, Carl wasn’t with the Council very long. But we have to take the long view and prepare for the day when we either decide to, or are forced to, reveal our existence to humanity. We need to find someone to fill that chair.”

  Bailey remembered the many hours of pleasure she’d gotten from Dr. Sagan’s work during the time she’d been incarcerated. She’d have to watch Contact again through the lens of a completely changed reality.

  “I see you chose a scientist, not a politician.” Bailey nodded in approval. “Good call.”

  “We needed someone less likely to have preconceived notions about our existence.” Lukas sat down, the projector casting shadows on his face. “Carl’s seat has been empty since his death, but several promising candidates are being evaluated as replacements.”

  Lukas pointed to his own name. “After the attacks of 9/11 in New York City, I abdicated my seat as the Incubus Second to focus on security and technology risks. Homeland Security is a significant risk to our anonymity.”

  “Will you become the Incubus Second?” Bailey asked Sasha.

  “Hell, no.” Sasha raised crossed index fingers in a warding off motion. “As if.”

  “Sasha’s dislike for Council matters is well established,” Lukas responded. “Rafe’s got his own thing going on. It’s Dad’s decision, and he’s still making it, but Antonia’s the obvious choice.”

  Sasha nodded her agreement. “Clearly. She’s a brainiac, scary-smart.”

  “She’s so young,” Bailey said quietly. A sixteen-year-old with a seat on their ruling council?

  “You, better than anyone here, should understand that sometimes age isn’t the most important indicator of someone’s competence,” Jack said.

  The chair creaked as Lukas leaned back and speared his hands wearily into his hair. “I’m serving double-duty until Dad makes a final decision. I hope he hurries up,” he muttered. “Okay. To cut to the chase, Jack was the second human to receive the Council’s sanction to learn of our existence. As of this morning, the Council authorized a third. You.”

  What? Bailey’s heart pounded like a tom-tom.

  “The Archives are a mess. The older materials are barely catalogued. They aren’t digitized, aren’t searchable. And what is isn’t adequately protected.” When Lukas kicked back to stare at the ceiling, the chair squeaked alarmingly. “But screw our unsecured archives; screw all of our other work. Today, we’re pulling every employee so we can babysit a prima donna rock star.”

  “This isn’t Scarlett’s fault,” Jack said.

  Lukas leaned into the table with an audible growl. “Nearly getting killed wasn’t Andi Woolf’s fault either. We should be out there finding this asshole.”

  “So we find a way to do both,” Jack replied in a reasonable tone of voice that just seemed to piss off Lukas more.

  As Jack discussed staffing with Lukas, Bailey looked at the org chart displayed on the wall behind Lukas’s head. The prima don
na in question was obviously Scarlett Fontaine. Her mother, Claudette Fontaine, was the Siren Council rep, and her sister Annika, Sasha’s other roommate—who could drink six Kamikazes and dance all night—was the Siren Second.

  Mythology was full of stories about seagoing men crashing their ships into the cliffs, lulled by a siren’s song. Suddenly Scarlett’s vocal talent made a whole different kind of sense. But why was Lukas so pissed off? “Who’s Andi Woolf?” Bailey asked aloud.

  “Krispin Woolf’s youngest child,” Jack said, quickly explaining the details of Andi’s assault. “We don’t have any reason to believe that Andi’s assault was politically motivated, but unfortunately we can’t rule it out yet either. Claudette is worried, and asked us to put additional security measures in place at Scarlett’s show tonight.” Lukas tossed his pen to the table, and Jack cleared his throat. “Of course we’re going to fulfill Ms. Fontaine’s request. So here’s the plan.” He tapped some keys on his laptop and displayed a three-dimensional schematic of Underbelly’s performance space. Plucking the stylus off his mini-comp, he activated it and pointed a red laser beam to an area backstage. “Lukas will be positioned in the wings over here, where I was going to be. Jesse will still be standing stage right. I’ll be down in the pit,” he said, “which frankly, I’m a little happier about.”

  “Why is that?” Lukas asked.

  “In case she stage-dives.”

  Lukas sat up in his seat, massive, booted feet dropping from the adjacent chair to the floor like blocks of cement. “Damn it, I thought you’d nipped that in the bud, Jack. It’s not safe.”

  Jack shrugged. “You know Scarlett.”

  Lukas swore, and a flush crawled up his neck. Sasha’s nostrils were twitching up a storm. Hmm. Just how well did her tight-lipped boss know Scarlett Fontaine? She opened her mouth to tease Lukas about his crush, but then stopped. Sasha looked deadly serious. Something was going on here that she didn’t understand.

  “So, Lukas and Jesse are backstage. You’re in the pit,” she said to Jack, not looking at the Sebastiani siblings as some sort of unspoken message bounced between them. “What do you need me to do? Not that I’m complaining, you understand—I couldn’t get a ticket to this show to save my life. But how can I help?”

  “Just keep your eyes open. Lukas wasn’t kidding about reassigning nearly every Sebastiani Security employee to Scarlett’s show tonight. We need all hands on deck, all available eyes and ears,” Jack replied. “This concert’s a high profile event on a couple of fronts. For one thing, it’s the last show of Scarlett’s tour. She hasn’t performed locally for over a year. It’s going to get rowdy. Scarlett’s manager and I have been working with Sasha on these plans for months. And if Scarlett’s security needs weren’t a big enough challenge, most of the people on that org chart will be here tonight too.”

  “A command performance.”

  “What?” Sasha tugged at her hair, already standing straight up in the air.

  “The people on that org chart may be family, but they’re also the rulers of your people. Royalty,” she added with a shrug. “The pressure on Scarlett must be enormous.”

  Sasha pursed her lips. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. They’re just… the Council. Hmm, that might explain why she seemed so…” Sasha trailed off, shook her head slightly, and focused again. “There was a reason you couldn’t get a ticket. Due to the security considerations, and the pheromone issue, there’s a private guest list.” At Bailey’s blank look, she glared at the men. “What were you guys doing before I got here, playing grab-ass?”

  Lukas ground his teeth together so hard that Bailey thought his jaw would shatter. “We haven’t gotten to physiological considerations yet.”

  Jack picked up the explanation of procedures. “The floor is General Availability, so anyone with a ticket has access. Second floor is reserved seating, a little pricier. Council members and their immediate families will be congregated up here.” Jack indicated the third floor VIP boxes at the rear of the venue, facing the stage. “The younger ones will probably creep down to the floor before the night is over, so we’ll have to keep our eyes open.” He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a small hinged black box, and pushed it across the table. “Here. You’ll need this.”

  Bailey opened the box and looked at the tiny earpiece and matchbook-sized receiver with an integrated clip. “I don’t recognize this technology.”

  “Now that the Council has cleared you, you’ll have access to technology you’ve only dreamed about,” Jack said with a smile. “That,” he said, indicating the small box, “will patch you in to Sebastiani Security restricted communications tonight. You’ll be able to read up on it later,” he said, recognizing the interested gleam in her eye. “We don’t have time right now. We have”—he looked at his watch—“less than two hours to give you a cultural crash course. Species strengths, weaknesses, susceptibilities…”

  “How about protocol?”

  Sasha looked at her with an odd expression on her face. “What?”

  “Hey, this Council stuff might be old hat to you, but tonight I’m meeting royalty. And everything I know about protocol comes from networking books. Or the Goldie Hawn movie.”

  “You held Annika’s hair out of the toilet when she puked the other night. You’re sitting with two Council members right now, people you work with every day. One of them is your best friend. It’s way too late for protocol, sweetie.”

  Bailey froze.

  “C’mon, don’t freak out on us now,” Sasha said, grasping both of her hands again. “You know us. At least, you’re starting to know us. You already know that Lukas is an annoying grouch, you’ve known Jack forever, and you ogle men’s asses with The First Daughter.”

  “True.”

  “Back to the matter at hand, ladies,” Jack said. “Time’s tight. Claudette asked for a personal favor, council leader to council leader. We don’t have a choice here.”

  “Our families go way back,” Sasha added, examining a chip in her purple nail polish. “I live with Scarlett and Annika. Claudette practically moved in after Mom died and helped raise us.” She turned her head to her brother. “Did you know that Dad and Claudette are finally doing the deed?”

  Lukas winced.

  “What?” Sasha shrugged with a grin. “I’m happy about it. I don’t know why they waited so long. And it’s so cute to see her doing the Walk of Shame out of Dad’s place in the morning.” She giggled and singsonged, “Dad’s getting la-id.”

  “So saying ‘no thanks’ really wasn’t an option, no matter how much you might have wanted to,” Bailey said to Lukas.

  Lukas stiffened. Sasha looked at Jack, and then Lukas.

  Bailey sat back in her chair and spread her hands. “Okay, guys. What’s up?”

  “Sorry. You have to cut us a little slack here,” Lukas said. “This is only the third time in history this information has been shared—”

  “And Captain Sphincter here is just a little uncomfortable discussing our species’ susceptibilities,” Sasha said, indicating her brother. “His susceptibilities.”

  If possible, Lukas’s jaw clenched even tighter. Bailey feared for his teeth.

  “Okay, Incubi Physiology 101,” Jack broke in smoothly. “You might notice that both Lukas’s and Sasha’s nostrils are twitching right now.”

  They both immediately stopped.

  “It’s not a twitch,” Sasha said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You make it sound like I’m Samantha on Bewitched or something.”

  “It’s a definite twitch,” Jack informed Sasha, then turned back to Bailey. “Incubi and succubi absorb emotional energy for sustenance. They do this unthinkingly, autonomically. If it’s there, they absorb it, like humans breathe air.” He kept his eyes on Bailey, his voice clinical. “Absorbing positive emotions is pleasurable, absorbing negative emotions is not. When they’re feeling pleasure themselves, they emit pheromones which others around them find pleasurable.”

  “Creating
a feedback loop?” Bailey asked.

  “Yes. That incubus sex myth?” Sasha flicked a challenging glance at Jack. “Fact.”

  Bailey’s brain was clicking, processing. “How…?”

  “Your guess is as good as ours,” Lukas said. “The best we can tell, our species can process and utilize a type of energy that humans can’t.”

  “Like a sixth sense.”

  “Yup,” Sasha responded with a smile. “It’s not magic by any means. Just because I can discern”—Sasha gazed at Jack, let her eyes travel over his face and upper body—“lust in the air doesn’t necessarily mean I can tell who’s feeling it. But sometimes, just by process of elimination, it’s pretty easy to guess.” She curled her legs in her chair while Jack’s face went tight. “I just know if it’s there, I absorb it. And it feels really, really good.”

  Oh my God. They could tell what she was feeling? When she was pissed off? Aroused? By sniffing? Sniffing the air? Bailey put her hands to her own burning cheeks.

  “We try not to be invasive about it,” Sasha said with a shrug. “It just… is.”

  Jack rubbed his neck. Bailey was pretty sure he was counting to ten. “So, tonight’s show,” he finally gritted out. “The club holds nearly a thousand people. No humans tonight, other than you and me. Weres, vamps, hundreds of incubi and succubi in an enclosed space, drinking, dancing, having fun. And where there’s fun, there’s pleasure, and where there’s pleasure, there are pheromones. Now, factor a siren into the equation—a siren who interprets and amplifies emotion with her song.”

  If Bailey understood Jack correctly, Scarlett’s voice would ratchet the pheromone level sky-high.

  “Yes,” Sasha said, her voice dripping with anticipation as she confirmed Bailey’s suspicion. “It’ll be bacchanalia.”