by Cassie Ryan
She glanced up, confusion swimming in her hazel gaze. “I’m not sure what you mean by succubus glamour.”
“You know, the supernatural ability that allows you to tempt humans.”
She glanced back down at her work. “It’s different for all of us. My ability is shape-shifting. I can change into the form that person desires most.”
“And those you hunt are supernaturally drawn to it? Like an aphrodisiac in the air, or something like that?”
She frowned. “It’s different for everyone. But mine is purely the change in form. There’s no compulsion for them beyond that. It’s up to them to give into the temptation or not.”
Noah looked away as the meaning of her words hit him square in the chest like an accusation. In other words, his reaction to her wasn’t chemically or supernaturally induced, it was his own damned reaction! He ground his teeth and forced himself to adopt a casual tone. “So, give me an example. What form would I desire most?”
She shrugged, never looking up from her work on his side. “Since you’re wearing Lilith’s ring, my ability wouldn’t work on you. But I’d leave it on; extended time spent with a succubus, even in a nonsexual manner, can drain your energy, and the ring keeps you immune.”
He filed that information away for later, not sure if he was disappointed or intrigued, considering her present form drove him crazy as it was. But it wasn’t just her form. She was easy to talk to, and she was a writer’s dream—information and research all wrapped up in an easy-on-the-eyes package. “So how does the changing form thing work? Is there an incantation or something?”
She poured more peroxide over his wounds and he winced. “The wounds in your arm are all small, but I’m going to have to stitch the longer gash in your side. All I have for pain meds are some aspirin and a bottle of Jim Beam.” Jezebeth dabbed at his wounds with a towel and Noah peered down to see a long, jagged gash refilling with blood. It definitely needed stitches, and he hadn’t thought to pack anything beyond basic first aid items.
“A little of both would be great.” He glanced away from the wound, willing himself to man up for the pain to come. In all honesty he was scared of needles and would’ve taken all offered pain relief had they been in a hospital. But his male pride refused to let him show fear or weakness in front of Jezebeth, so he swallowed hard and chased back two aspirin with a few long swigs of Jim Beam while Jezebeth ran the needle through a flame to sterilize it.
The whiskey burned its way down his throat and a few long seconds later, sent a warm flowing sensation along every nerve ending. He waited for the soothing heat to soften his cock, but with Jezebeth’s continued close proximity, apparently his body refused to let down its guard.
Damn.
“Ready?” Jezebeth gently prodded the wound and Noah winced.
“Do it.” Noah took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything except what it would feel like to have a needle pierce his skin repeatedly.
The first sharp stab of pain caught Noah by surprise and he clenched his fists and clamped his teeth together to keep from wincing away.
“I just concentrate on someone and my body changes.”
Noah opened his eyes and glanced back at Jezebeth just as the needle bit into his skin a second time and the slow drag of the thread sent shooting pain through his side. “What?” he gritted out.
“You asked me how changing forms worked.” She flashed a quick smile before returning to her work. She was trying to distract him to help him get through the stitches.
He turned away again before he gave in to the temptation to look at how far she still had to sew and instead turned back to his view of the yellowed wallpaper. “Can you give me an example?” His last word nearly ended on a very unmanly squeak when the needle bit deep again, followed by the long drag of the thread through his skin.
“To get us a room here, I concentrated on the male clerk to see what form he would be most receptive to.”
“And?” he asked on a long exhale as sweat began to bead on his brow and bile began to inch up his throat from his body’s reaction to the pain.
“And, I found myself in the form of Kate Beckinsale.”
Shock slapped at Noah and he glanced at Jezebeth to gauge if she was serious. When her features showed she was, a laugh bounded through him. “Seriously? As in the hottie who was in Pearl Harbor and was Selene in Underworld? That Kate Beckinsale?” His last words came out weak and he blinked slowly as a sensation of light-headedness swam through his brain.
She smiled. “That’s the one.”
“Too bad I missed it,” he slurred.
She studied him critically and then stood and crossed the room to rummage inside a duffel he recognized as one of those he’d packed in the back of the truck. When she returned, she held up a purple Tootsie Pop. “Here, eat this. The sugar will help with the pain endorphins. Not sure why it works, but it does.”
Noah had never heard of painkiller by lollypop, but since he had nothing to lose, he unwrapped the treat and popped it inside his mouth. Rich, grape flavor burst over his tongue and a few long moments later, the clammy skin, the dizziness, and even the roiling inside his stomach receded. “Thanks,” he said as he saluted her with the Tootsie Pop. “How did you know that would work?”
She shrugged as she settled beside him again. “I’ve seen a lot of beings get tattoos, and that’s something they’ve done to keep the side effects of the pain at bay. Has something to do with blood sugar, I think. Figured it couldn’t hurt.” She picked up the needle again, and Noah quickly turned away as the now-familiar sharp stab of pain lanced through his side.
“So what happened?”
“With Kate Beckinsale?” she asked on a laugh.
“Yes. You can’t leave me hanging after a story intro like that. I’m a writer, remember?”
She laughed again. “I do remember hearing that somewhere.” Jezebeth continued to work, and although Noah was peripherally aware of it, he focused his attention on the story.
“I told him you were my brother and we were traveling together. I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to have a Kate Beckinsale sighting when we are trying to stay under the radar, so I changed some of my features just enough so I would resemble her, but not look like her, if that makes sense.”
“I assume it worked?”
“I guess so, although he did say I reminded him of her.” She tugged against the thread and he concentrated on the grape flavor inside his mouth and the sound of her voice.
“Since I didn’t have any ID, I had to do some finagling, and here we are.”
“What?” Noah sat up, ignoring the sharp protest of pain from his injured side as he turned to face Jezebeth, who still held the needle between her fingers. “While I was out cold in the car you were having sex with the hotel clerk in Kate Beckinsale’s body?” As the words tumbled from Noah’s lips, they sounded insane, but he shook his head as he tried to wrap his mind around them.
Shock followed by anger flashed across Jezebeth’s features. “Technically it was my body with a slight resemblance to Kate Beckinsale, and it’s none of your business who I have sex with or not.” She met his gaze calmly.
“Is the clerk all right?” A vivid image flashed through his mind of the two men in the truck back at the parking lot of the club.
“He’s more than all right. Which means you and I have a room until checkout time at eleven tomorrow.” Her words dripped with venom, and he thought he detected a note of hurt underneath, which didn’t make sense at all.
“But I don’t understand . . .” Noah trailed off as he realized he couldn’t even begin to put what he was feeling into words. It just seemed wrong somehow to trade sex for a room. Jez wasn’t a prostitute.
But she is a succubus, he reminded himself and then winced.
Anger and impatience flashed across Jezebeth’s features as she glared at Noah. “If you’re asking for clarification, that’s fine, but if you’re asking me to defend my actio
ns, you can go to Hell.” She grabbed the thread still attached to Noah’s body and held it tight long enough to pull the needle free and gather up the other first aid supplies off the bed.
Noah bit back the words that threatened to bubble up his throat. Why was he so surprised that she’d traded sex for what they’d needed? She was a succubus, and he had been injured and out cold in the truck. Would he really have preferred she take his definition of the moral high road? That would’ve left him injured or eventually bleeding out in the truck, or worse, in police custody when they couldn’t explain to the hospital staff how he’d been injured. The details of the altercation at the club were probably all the buzz on police scanners right now.
He scrubbed his hand over his face before dropping it to his lap, where it bumped against his finally softening erection. “Look, Jezebeth . . .” He trailed off as he searched for the right thing to say. “I’m sorry. You did what you had to do. You took care of me when I was injured, and I really do appreciate it. I have no right to judge you or your actions.”
“You’re right. You don’t.” She laid the needle and other medical supplies she’d used on him on the chest of drawers and whirled to face him. “I’ll let you handle room arrangements next time. I’m going to take a shower.” She turned away and stopped with her back to him. “For the record, I didn’t sleep with him. I flirted and agreed to have a drink with him. That was all.”
The door to the bathroom snicked closed behind her, and Noah sat dumbfounded as he realized what a total and utter ass he’d been over the last few minutes. She never said. He’d just assumed.
He laid back against the bed with a sigh. “Way to go, Halston. Way to go.”
7
Jezebeth let the hot water pound against her bare back and shoulders, her anger at Noah still spinning inside her chest like a growing hurricane. He’d apologized and sounded sincere, but his obvious shock at her methods had shown her his true feelings. Besides the fact that for once she hadn’t even done anything!
Humans could be so puritanical in their views, and judgmental too. She wasn’t sure why Noah’s reaction bothered her so much, but the pain inside her chest showed her that it clearly did.
What the hell had Lilith been thinking when she’d chosen Noah for her protector?
An oppressive presence suddenly filled the small space of the bathroom and Jez whisked aside the thin plastic shower curtain. She instantly recognized the energy of an Archangel and cringed as far back against the cracked tile wall as she could, the spray from the showerhead still pounding against her shoulder.
As the warm smell of a campfire surrounded her, she glanced outside the tub, aiming her gaze toward her visitor’s feet so she wouldn’t accidentally look directly into his eyes. She might be trapped in the small room with a being who could crush her with a thought, but she refused to look into his eyes and let him see inside her soul. That was an invasion she’d let happen only once, and the sensation of that experience still haunted her.
Besides, since succubi weren’t demons and definitely not one of the heavenly realms, Jez had no way of knowing if this particular Archangel was friend or enemy.
“Good evening, little one.” His deep voice reverberated softly throughout the room, and she allowed her gaze to travel up high enough to see the thick shoulder-length hair that shifted colors the longer she looked at it.
Uriel.
“You recognize me.” She thought she detected a hint of amusement in his voice, but his words were a statement and not a question. “Won’t you raise your gaze and look at me?”
“No, my lord. I don’t wish to share a glimpse of my soul.”
His soft laughter twined around her like a soft, warm blanket, relaxing her muscles and loosening her fists. She recognized the reaction as a natural byproduct of the angel’s proximity, but her mind refused to relax along with her body.
“Honesty. Something I very much admire and don’t see often enough.” He shifted, the ends of his multicolored hair changing from red to black to brown as she watched. “Raphael didn’t mean to leave such a lasting impression on you with his glance. We sometimes forget the power within our gazes.” He sighed. “Raise your gaze to mine, little one. You have my word I will not look at more than the lovely color of your eyes.”
Jezebeth released a slow breath. Once an Archangel gave his word, he had to keep it. She wasn’t sure what happened if they didn’t, but suspected they’d end up as a fallen angel like Lucifer and the others. Jez raised her gaze, taking in Uriel’s broad shoulders, the chiseled features of his face, and finally the liquid-silver eyes that reminded her of molten mercury.
His unique eyes unnerved her, but the rest of him was beautiful. Not handsome, not gorgeous, but absolutely beautiful—male perfection standing in front of her.
“Lovely.” He smiled, his entire face lighting with the movement.
Jez’s brow furrowed as she scrambled to figure out what he’d meant.
His laugh bubbled around her, soothing her again but not bringing her any closer to understanding. “Your eyes, Jezebeth. They are lovely.” He shook his head. “After all these millennia of men, women, and beings of all types telling you how beautiful you are in all your forms, you still don’t believe it?”
She raised her chin, amused at the irony of his question. “I’ve never had cause to believe it. First, I can take whichever form they desire most. And second, most of them thought it necessary to tell me so because they mistakenly believed it would influence my decision to have sex with them.”
He snorted, something she hadn’t known Archangels did—purely on principle. “I can see why she likes you.”
“She?”
“Lilith.”
Jez frowned as she turned off the shower and grabbed one of the thin, scratchy towels off the flimsy metal rack. Not that she’d ever thought the queen disliked her, but to hear otherwise was somehow surprising. “Is that why you’re here? Did the queen send you?” She slowly dried off before attempting to wrap the towel around her body and giving up when she realized it was so small and thread-bare, she might as well not bother.
Uriel crossed his arms and leaned his ass back against the tiny excuse for a bathroom counter. Jez expected his gaze to roam over her breasts or down to the curly chestnut hair that sat at the apex of her legs in her true form, but his gaze stayed trained on her face. “Lilith doesn’t even know I’m here, and I’d prefer to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”
Jez cocked her head to the side as she studied him. “No offense, my lord, but then what could you possibly want with me? There are many others you could ask for sex besides me, and I can’t think of anything else I could offer an Archangel.”
He reached out to cup her chin in one strong hand, his thumb absently feathering over her skin as he studied her. His aura of power buzzed against her, not unpleasant but a throbbing prickle of pure unadulterated energy.
There was no spark of heat or surge of attraction like she’d just experienced with Noah inside the bedroom, so if Uriel was waiting to smell her arousal, he’d be sorely disappointed.
Slowly, a smile curved his lips, and he dropped his hand and leaned back to cross his arms again. “Have you ever wished to do something besides be a succubus?”
It was Jez’s turn to snort. “Like what? Become a flight attendant?”
He grinned, and it turned his dark features almost boyish. “No, I meant other than quotas and temptation and sex with an endless array of beings?”
She shrugged and began to dry her hair, more for something to do with her hands than anything else. “I am what I am, and I can’t change it.”
He pursed his lips. “But what if you could?”
She frowned as she hung the towel over the flimsy, metal towel rack. A life doing something other than what she’d always done? It was oddly intriguing and yet frightening at the same time. “Are you offering?” Jez wasn’t sure if that was even within the Archangel’s power, but it couldn’t hurt to find o
ut.
“Not exactly. Let’s just say I like to stay well informed. And Lilith’s interests are in some ways my interests, as well.”
Jez huffed out a laugh as she reached around him to grab a brush off the counter and run it through her long, wet hair to coax out the tangles. “The only interests of Lilith’s I’m privy to are my individual quotas each month and my current need to get back to her lair and meet my sisters before Semiazas finds us.” She didn’t bother to hide the truth from Uriel; he could sense lies, and besides, maybe he could help.
“My retreat also serves as a portal point.” He fell silent as if waiting for her reaction; when she frowned, he continued. “The earthly location it appears in shifts every week, and only those with my express permission can find it.”
She didn’t pretend ignorance. Uriel’s retreat would be a portal the demons wouldn’t be watching and that she and Noah wouldn’t have to fight their way through. “And how would we find it?”
“It will remain in Yuma, Arizona, for two more days, and will then be in Greece.”
“Yuma? Seriously?” She tossed her brush on the counter and propped her fists on her hips. “As in the armpit of the Southwest? You’ve got to be kidding.”
Uriel smiled. “My property exists on the other side, and merely appears in the earthly plane to those whom I’ve allowed to see it. The location rotates—it’s been just about everywhere by now.”
“And how do you give that permission?” Jez had dealt with Archangels for too long not to think there was more involved than just his word.
“Get dressed and I’ll meet you out in the main room. I’ll extend my permission to both you and your human.” Uriel opened the door and stepped outside, not closing it fully behind him.
Jez concentrated and after a quick round of tingling was dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a simple V-necked top, her long hair still damp over her shoulders.
“Who the hell are you?” Noah’s panicked voice was followed by an odd sound like sand hitting a wall.
