by Lola Taylor
“I flew, love. How else?”
“Oh,” I said stupidly.
He never answered my question about the telepathy, and before I could answer he said, “You know, it’s not every day I get to play the hero. I’d like to know the name of my maiden fair?”
I felt my cheeks heat, and I brushed back a strand of dark hair. “It’s Sally.”
“Sally… does that come with a last name?”
I smiled impishly. “You might be handsome and I might be grateful, but I’m not about to give out my last name so you can stalk me. I don’t know anything about you.” He could be a sociopath, for all I knew.
Damien laughed, big and hearty. “Right you are, sweet. Right you are indeed,” he added with a darker undertone that gave me pause.
It suddenly dawned on me that I didn’t know exactly what I was dealing with, and if I wasn’t careful, I could be about to find out the hard way. The lack of noise in the immediate area told me no one had heard vampy-boy explode, which meant no witnesses for whatever else the charming, yet dark Damien might have in mind.
“Uh,” I said, starting to shuffle away. “Thank you again for saving my life. I should be getting back to my roommates. They’ll be worried sick I’m so late, they might call the D.P.I. to come look for me.”
The D.P.I. - or Department of Paranormal Investigation - was made up of paranormals who upheld the laws of the supernatural community. They didn’t take any shit from anyone, human or sup alike, and I knew from the way Damien stiffened he was aware of that as well. Plus, I wanted him to think people would miss me, despite the fact I knew the apartment would be empty this time of night. Monique and Raoul would be out on jobs or clubbing and wouldn’t be back until dawn, when I saw them at Vixens for work - all things Damien didn’t need to know. To make sure I didn’t inadvertently broadcast my deception, I thought about anything else: the near-empty tank in my car, facing Elias tomorrow, my upcoming jobs (er, make that “job”).
If Damien detected the least bit of a slight, he didn’t show it as I casually backed away. “May I walk you to your car?”
“Um.” I retrieved my dropped can of Silver Mist, waggling it. “I’m fine now, but thanks for the offer.”
He stared at me for so long, I thought he hadn’t heard me. It was creepy, like he was trying to decide something. A slow, charming smile warmed his face. Everything except for his eyes. Those remained chilly as winter.
“Then I bid you farewell, Ms. Sally. Stay out of trouble, now.” With a low bow, he rose and shot into the air faster than I could blink, soaring out into the night.
I wasted no time. Scurrying to my car, I bent to retrieve my little stereo and hopped into the Honda Civic. Soon as I checked the backseat for unwanted passengers, I promptly locked my doors. Not that it would do any good against an angry paranormal with super-strength, but still, it couldn’t hurt.
Even in the comfort of my car, I couldn’t stop shaking, not now that it was quiet and the terrifying events of earlier started leaking into my brain.
It’s okay now, you’re safe, I tried consoling myself.
Then why was I still so afraid?
Pulling myself together with a few deep breaths, I backed out of the space and sped off down the street, going fifteen over the limit the whole way home.
Chapter 2
WARM, ROUGH HANDS ROVED over my bare skin, leaving trails of goose bumps in their wake. I sighed as the man began kissing my neck, slowly moving toward my bare breasts.
My fingers tangled in his dark hair, and I smiled.
“Hector,” I breathed, every fiber of me coiling in anticipation as his lips trailed lower.
The man froze. “Who’s Hector?”
Blinking in confusion, I looked down at the man’s face - and sucked in a terrified breath.
Red eyes gleamed back at me, situated in a pale face outlined in blue and black veins. A mouthful of fangs grinned as a forked, black tongue ran out over the lips that had been setting my senses on fire only a few seconds ago.
“Not Hector, love,” the demon said as it leaned closer to my face. “Damien. I am your only love.”
In a movement straight out of the Predator movies, his jaws unlocked, opening wide to reveal rows and rows of incisors, all ready to slice me open as he plunged toward my neck.
I BOLTED UPRIGHT WITH a gasp, the crisp night air chilling my damp skin. I fought to catch my breath, my heartbeat pounding inside my skull.
What the hell was that? It was the first nightmare I’d had since… well, since my human days, about six months ago.
Normally, sleep was the best part of my day, since my dreams always starred an intensely handsome Incubus named Hector Aurelius, an Underworld celebrity I’d been in love with - or rather, in “lust with” - since I first saw him. Obviously, my brain decided to cook up something along the horrifying order.
Wide awake and irritable with a headache, I got out of bed and padded to the kitchen for a glass of ice water and some aspirin.
The apartment was quiet, meaning my roommates were either asleep or still out and about. Paranormals may rule the night, but I needed at least a solid seven to eight hours to feel well-rested.
Pouring myself a glass of water from the tap, I downed it in a few fast gulps, along with some much needed pills. Seeing as I had only thirty minutes before having to wake up anyway, I veged in front of the TV, then showered, dressed, and snatched a banana-nut muffin on my way out the door.
Traffic was starting to pick up at six-thirty in the morning, but I knew it’d grow more congested the closer I drew to downtown. I don’t know why I bothered grabbing the muffin. My stomach felt like it was twisting itself into knots, thanks to my growing nerves at potentially getting a talking to from Elias today. We’d already had a few coaching sessions, where he pointed out every minuscule flaw of my performance, and I was reminded in detail of how inadequate a succubus I was. Along with those cheerful encounters came the firm promise that if my stats didn’t improve, I was toast.
And there was nothing the paranormal community loved to shun more than an outcast succubus. We weren’t exactly invited to bowling night or garden parties, seeing as the married sups tended to hold a grudge against us for sleeping with their mates. I didn’t care for that rule either, the one that said “no questions asked, no judgment passed” on those who hired our services, which was mostly the reason why I had yet to actually sleep with a client.
And why my ass was in the hot seat now.
I clutched the steering wheel tighter, my sweating palms making my hands slide all over the place as I maneuvered through downtown Kansas City traffic.
My stomach flipped as I found parking and paid the meter. It wasn’t even seven-thirty yet as I scurried across the crosswalk and into the high rise that served as Vixens’ main headquarters, a company that specialized in sex toys, phone sex, sex clubs, and soul-sucking demons who would rock your world for the quaint price of five thousand dollars an hour.
I could hear the theme music for Mission Impossible playing in my head as I sneaked through the empty lobby and made for the stairs. Being the sole reason I’d worn ballet flats instead of heels, I climbed the stairwell to avoid notice, particularly by one devilishly sexy warlock that served as the Boss from Hell. If I was lucky, I could creep over to my cubicle and avoid notice.
Ten stories later, I was out of breath and my side hurt as I emerged into a narrow hallway that led to the breakroom. From there, I’d slip through another door and climb the last story to the beehive, or “hot pink cubicle land,” as I liked to call it.
Times like this, I wished I could just call in sick. If only paranormals got sick, I thought wryly as I scampered through the desolate breakroom and into the last stairwell. When I reached the top of the stairs, I poked my head out and looked both directions. Good. It was a ghost town.
Deciding to get going while the going was clear, I glided along the wall toward my cubicle at the center of the room.
Almost t
here.
Rounding the corner, I shrieked as someone whirled around in my chair with a perky, “Oh good! You’re here early!”
“Gah!” I clutched at my chest, eyeing the startled, elderly secretary with bewilderment. “Edith, what are you doing in my chair?”
She adjusted her glasses, that cheery smile returning to her face. I never understood old people being so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at such an ungodly hour. “Why, waiting on you of course.”
“Whatever for?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh! Mr. Hex wants to see you, straight away. He said it was of the ‘utmost importance’.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. Well, there went my Operation Avoid Satan mission. “I’ll be right there,” I mumbled, and dragged my feet to the elevator, taking it up to the top floor, where Elias’s man cave/office was located.
I cursed my stupidity. What was I thinking? Of course there was no way to avoid him, because he’d be coming in early for the next few weeks. After all, his negotiations with a big sex toy company was coming to a close.
Sighing, I stepped off the elevator.
I swore the colors turned grayer the closer I got. This is it. He’s going to fire me, I just know it. Maybe he would grant me the mercy of allowing me to keep my autographed Hector Aurelius calendar. It was like the ones Chippendales sold, only better, since it was nothing but near nude pictures of my crush.
Vixens was owned by the Brothers Hex - or as the ladies called them, “The Brothers Hot” - and Elias, the youngest warlock of the Hex clan, was in charge of the whole operation. Being the rogue Red Warlock in the family earned him a quirky job, I supposed. Male warlocks with a gift for fire and love potions was a rarity in the witching world. Gruff as he seemed, I knew he enjoyed it. I saw that exited sparkle in his eyes at company meetings whenever he’d bring up a new product. Plus, he was so damn sexy.
And scary as hell.
I gulped as I stopped by the secretary’s desk. She waved me through, and I hesitated in front of the big wooden door to Elias’s office. Not wanting to be a complete chicken, I raised my hand and knocked.
“Come in,” called out a deep, irritable voice.
I cringed. Down the rabbit hole we go.
Opening up the door, I walked inside. The air smelled of leather and vanilla, a scent that seemed to tag along with Elias wherever he went. Fine leather furniture sat about the room, which had an electric fireplace in one corner, a large mahogany desk in another, and tall windows taking up almost an entire wall.
Elias was tall, with dark auburn hair and olive-colored skin. Add to that his broad shoulders and glistening ice-blue eyes, and he was a real heart-stopper.
Too bad he was such an asshole.
“You’re late,” he remarked from behind his desk. He kept scribbling, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.
I glanced at my watch. “It’s not even eight.”
“And I said I wanted you here by seven today to file away those order forms from last week.”
I nearly slapped my palm over my forehead. Crap. Being nearly eaten by a starving vampire and saved by someone I was pretty sure was a psychopath had proved to be pretty big distractions.
“Sorry, my alarm never went off,” I lied smoothly.
“Bullshit,” he said, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair to look at me. “You’ve been avoiding me since you walked through the door.”
I cringed, eyeing the scrying mirror beside his desk. It looked like something out of a Dracula film. It was “better than any fancy camera equipment or security system,” of which the building had ample supplies, because the mirror allowed him to find someone no matter where they were. It didn’t matter how sneaky you were, so long as he was thinking of you. I don’t know what madness made me think I could escape its notice. Desperation?
He crossed his arms and arched a brow, as if daring me to deny it.
Damn, that sports jacket looks good on him. Er, focus, Sally!
“I…” My shoulders hung. “It’s been a rough week.”
“Tell me about it,” he said dryly, waggling a stack of papers at me. “These are the most pitiful surveys I’ve gotten in yet. All well below the unsatisfactory range, as thoroughly commented on by your clientele. I’ve had to send backup succubi in just to cleanup your messes so we don’t start developing a bad reputation.”
“Oh, come on. I can’t be that bad.”
He stared blankly at me.
I sighed. “Crap!”
“‘Crap’ is right,” Elias said, getting up and going to the window. Sunlight spilled onto his face, picking up the threads of scarlet in his hair. How could something so nice to look at be such a party-pooper?
“Your ineptness at seduction,” he began. “It doesn’t have to do with what happened in your human life, does it? The night you became mine?”
My throat went dry and a sliver of fear crawled into my chest. “No,” I rasped, swallowing my nerves as I forced that memory - or rather, nightmare - back down from the hellhole it came. “No, of course not. I’m over it.”
“I beg to differ,” he muttered. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.
I held my breath. This was it. He was firing me for sure. Oh, God, what was I going to do? I wouldn’t be able to find work. I’d lose my friends, my income. I was just starting to fit in, too. I hadn’t been a succubus long, a mere six months. I was the baby of my demented little demon family. Not to mention if I was exiled, I’d be shunned by the whole Underworld, an embarrassment to our kind.
I’d lose my identity. Being a succubus was what I was. What else - who else - could I be?
When Elias didn’t speak for a long while, I began to grow antsy. I chewed on my lip and tapped my foot. Oh, for crying out loud! What kind of a douche likes to draw out the tension? Bet the bastard is enjoying watching me squirm.
About on the verge of telling him to spit it out already, he spoke in grave tones.
“I’ve given a lot of thought to this, Sally. But at the rate you’re going, you’ve left me no choice.”
I froze. No. No, anything but-
“I’m afraid there’s nothing left to do but send you to Elysian for reformation.”
I let my breath out in one whoosh. So not as bad as I was thinking.
He eyed me with hawk-like scrutiny. “Unless, of course, that’s too subtle a punishment?”
“No!” I said at once. “No, I’m so grateful you’re not firing me.”
Being a subpar succubus, the laughingstock of the succubi community, would damn me for sure. At least this way, I had a chance to prove myself, to turn things around before I was completely toast.
It felt like a frickin’ miracle.
I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I actually went over to Elias and hugged him.
He went stiff at my touch. “Thank you so much!” I gushed. “You have no idea how much this means to me! Really, I’ll make you proud!”
“I’m sure you will,” he gritted out. “Now please, get off of me before I really decide to fire you.”
“Oh.” I let go and backed up, close to tears I was so happy. “When do I leave?”
“Day after tomorrow.” Elias sat back down and proceeded to type on his swanky computer. “Edith will inform you of the details of your transfer.”
When he didn’t speak after that, I assumed that meant I was dismissed. Typical Elias fashion, to not say goodbye.
I didn’t care if he’d cussed me up one way and down another. I wasn’t getting fired!
I almost did a little dance out of his office when his warning stopped me cold.
“Let me make it crystal clear this is your last chance,” he said. “Any screwups and I shall show you no mercy.”
It took a moment to find my voice. “I understand, sir. And I am grateful for this opportunity. Thank you again.”
I left, feeling shaken and drunk from adrenaline.
But mostly, I felt excited.
Really
, really excited.
With my thoughts consumed by what the future would bring, I boarded the elevator and nibbled on my lip. If there was a way to screw something up, I usually could. Clumsiness spilled over into other areas of my life. Could I really pull myself together to convince the people at Elysian I had what it takes to be a kickass succubus?
I was so distracted I didn’t hear the screaming until the elevator stopped a few floors early, and the doors opened. Sound rushed in, slamming into me with the force of a freight train. I blinked, startled at the chaos before me.
Women were everywhere, but I couldn’t quite make out the tall figure walking toward me because the women’s flailing arms obscured the man’s identity. Plus, he had his back turned to me.
“Please give me an autograph!”
“Sign my breasts!”
“Can I have your little demon babies?”
What the hell? Not wanting to be trampled by fangirls, I debated on making a run for it when the stranger broke free of the crowd and slipped through the elevator doors right as they were starting to close.
He leaned against the wall and let out a breath. “Whew. Your timing was perfect. Thanks, love.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor as I looked over my new companion.
It can’t be, my brain argued, on the verge of a meltdown. No way could I get this lucky.
He was without a doubt the most perfect man I’d ever seen. At nearly six foot five, he towered over me easily. With long, dark wavy hair that hung around his face in a flyaway look, and an open button-down shirt that showed off his impressive, tanned chest, Hector Aurelius was as gorgeous as gorgeous came.
And way out of my league.
He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “Ah. The silence is so nice.”
I blubbered for something to say. “I… that is…”
Hector’s eyes opened and he looked at me, like, really looked at me. A weird expression came over his face as his eyes glided over me, taking in every inch of my body before arriving back at my face. He looked… surprised.
