“You don’t know…” I was going to tell him he didn’t know what it was like to try to resist a death djinn in full seduction mode, but I realized it probably wouldn’t go over too well. Then I replayed what he’d said and felt my face flush scarlet. “You were watching?”
He glared at me. “Of course we were watching. This is a prison; Balthus is an inmate.”
Comprehension dawned as I glanced up at the small television in the corner, and mortification silenced me as I replayed all the intimate things Balthus had said to me. I tried to recall if I’d said anything embarrassing in reply, but all I could remember was the heat of his invisible touch and the way I’d responded to it.
Sparrow sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “He didn’t tell you anything he hadn’t already told us, Sydney.”
I briefly surfaced from my self-torment to consider that statement. Balthus had obviously known we were being observed, which must have been why he’d spoken to me in my mind when he’d told me about Ophelia Jameson in the 8th floor penthouse. And I’d sworn not to lead the police to her, which meant not telling Sparrow.
Goddess knew I shouldn’t feel any loyalty toward Balthus, but for some reason I was still reluctant to break my word to him. Bending the truth was one thing, but lying outright had always made me uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that I questioned the wisdom of breaking an oath to a death djinn—especially one who was already two thirds of the way to gaining possession of my soul.
What could it hurt just to talk to Ophelia on my own? If I found out anything of use, I could always take the information to Sparrow without revealing her identity. I realized Sparrow was speaking again.
“I can’t even believe I agreed to this. We gained nothing, and almost lost you in the process,” he railed, pacing the confined length of the cell. “You knew what could happen—and you still fought to stay with that bastard!”
I glanced over to find Lorien hovering silently in a corner, watching us with a troubled expression. I lay my hand on Sparrow’s forearm as he passed, coaxing him to a stop. He stared stonily at the wall as I looked up at him.
“I didn’t want to stay with him; I wanted to get information out of him. I was hoping he’d tell me something to help us find the goblin he claims gave him that woman’s soul. I did almost make a wish, alright? But you know he used magic to persuade me. It wasn’t real. And it wasn’t useless. It was something I needed to do for my own peace of mind. If I had to do it over again, I’d do the exact same thing.”
Sparrow finally lowered his eyes to mine, something akin to pain flickering within their blue depths. “I don’t want you around any more death djinns until we get this resolved. With your contract two-thirds complete, their hold on you is too strong.”
“Fine by me. Faeries are far better company than djinns, anyway,” I teased, hoping to lighten his mood.
He shook his head at me, a faint smile playing around the corners of his lips. “How do you do that to me, Sydney? You say you’re not a witch, yet you always seem able to make me fall under your spell.”
My small chuckle faded as he covered my hand with the warmth of his palm, his fingertips sliding across, then beneath mine. He grasped my hand in his and brought it up to his mouth for a kiss. It was a charmingly old-fashioned gesture, but there was nothing old-fashioned about my body’s response.
“I think it’s past time to call it a day,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze and trailing his fingers across my sensitive palm as he released it. “I’ll let you know if anything relevant turns up with regard to Balthus.”
I could still feel the tingle of his fingertips as he led the way out of the cell and back up the long hallway. Lorien was being so quiet that I glanced back to make sure she was trailing behind us. She sent me a troubled half-smile. “I’ll go find us a Peg,” she murmured, darting past us toward the exit.
“Sparrow?” I began uncertainly as we passed a pair of security guards. I was trying to work up the courage to broach the subject of his history with King Moab. Although it probably wasn’t any of my business, I was dying to know.
“Hmm?” he answered, sounding lost in thought. He held the door for us and I waited to speak again until he fell into step beside me as we approached the outer gate.
“What happened between you and King Moab?” I asked on a rushed breath.
His expression remained remote as he led us through the courtyard and around the outside of the police station, along white stone walls that glittered in the sun. When he didn’t answer, I resolved to let it go—at least temporarily. But then he stopped me as we were almost to the street.
He put his hands on my shoulders and looked down at me, his gaze intent.
“It’s been a long day, Sydney. I promise I’ll tell you about King Moab, but some other time, okay?” he said, weariness breaking through the strength in his voice.
“Okay,” I sighed my agreement. His palms were steady and warm against my upper arms, and my eyelids fluttered closed as I inhaled his spicy scent, struggling to restrain the urge to lean into him.
He let go of my shoulders and I felt one of his hands come up to softly cup my chin, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. Muscles clenched low in my belly and I stifled a moan as my lips parted in response.
“Take care of yourself, Sydney,” he said in a hushed voice as he released me.
Disappointed at the loss of his touch, I opened my eyes…but he was gone.
Chapter 10 – The Price of Passion
“I’ve never been so sexually frustrated in my life,” I groaned.
I held the silver coin Sparrow had given me in one palm, keeping it in contact with my skin in the same way I would have worn one of his shirts to surround myself with his scent. The man made it shockingly easy to forget about Jeremy’s betrayal—probably too easy, I thought. But I wasn’t ready to give up such a pleasant distraction.
I’d found the coin in my pocket when I took off my jeans last night, pulling it out before I thought about what I was doing. Luckily, it hadn’t transported me back to Balthus’ prison cell. I studied it curiously now.
I had never seen its like. It had an ancient feel to it somehow, yet it was as bright and flawless as a newly minted dime. On one side was a full, lushly blooming tree, depicted in meticulous detail, with hundreds of tiny leaves that glinted in the light. On the other was an intricate representation of a sun, with curving scroll-work arms and a swirling, energetic mass of Celtic knot-work throughout its center.
It made me think of Sparrow’s Aegishjalmur tattoo.
I’d slept with the stupid thing under my pillow simply because it reminded me of him. I couldn’t decide what was more embarrassing—my sudden regression into acting like a teenager with a crush, or my recent difficulty with controlling my body’s response to every half-sidhe or death djinn who came within ten feet of me.
Sunny made a strained sound that I took for commiseration.
“My brain is turning to mush,” I complained. “I almost sold my soul into eternal enslavement for the promise of ‘endless pleasure’, such that I am apparently ‘incapable of comprehending in my current mortal state’—not once, but twice yesterday.
“Goddess Sunny, I haven’t gone this long without sex since I started having orgasms! And I can’t remember ever wanting it this much. Why did Jeremy have to go and cheat on me? My life was so simple and comfortable before all this.”
Jeremy—I’d been trying to avoid all thoughts of him, but in my current state of mind I couldn’t help reflecting on the fact that, for the most part, I’d enjoyed our sex-life. He hadn’t always made sure I finished before he did, and often his idea of foreplay had consisted of tickling me into laughing submission—which was fun sometimes, although admittedly, it could get tiresome.
Well, okay, I guess the sex could have been a little better. But at least it had been regular. I hadn’t realized how much I’d miss it.
“Uh, Syd?” Sunny croaked.
; Sunny’s tone made me look up from my self-pity party…and up some more, to take in the gorgeous, six-foot blonde woman who hovered uncertainly over me.
“Angelica?” I squeaked. “How did you…”
“I am so sorry Sydney! I did not mean to invade your privacy in such an unforgivable manner. I will just go now.” She began a rigid walk toward the door, her graceful fingers clenched into fists at her sides.
“Wait! Angelica, no, please sit with us,” I stuttered.
She cringed and glanced back at me.
“Please,” I reiterated with calm acceptance. In the last week my mind had gotten about as blown as I thought it was possible to get. The sudden unexplained appearance of my supermodel housekeeper in the living room was just par for the course.
She sighed and moved stiffly into a chair, crossing her long legs primly and looking uncomfortable in the extreme.
“How did you get in here?” I asked.
Angelica remained awkwardly silent, her blush slowly staining her cheeks a deep shade of crimson.
Sunny grunted, apparently unable to contain herself, and burst out, “She just appeared there, standing next to you—right out of thin air!”
I looked disbelievingly from her back to Angelica.
Sunny rolled her eyes. “What? You’re going to question me now, faerie girl? Tell her, Angelica,” she demanded.
“Sunny is correct,” Angelica finally murmured, seeming to resign herself to an inevitable fate. “I was drawn to the intensity of your sexual yearnings, Sydney. I tried to resist the call, but I was unable to.”
Sunny and I exchanged a baffled glance.
Angelica groaned in misery, looking like she’d have rather been anywhere else. “I am a succubus, you see. By my very nature, I am inextricably linked to the sexual desires of mortals. I have been experiencing some difficulty lately, however, with controlling my response to the call of passion.”
“Uh huh,” grunted Sunny, eyeing Angelica dubiously. “So, someone decides they’re in the mood for a booty call and you just snap your fingers and show up. And then what?”
Angelica’s expression turned earnest. “Well, usually I would grant their every sexual fantasy and desire, until they were limp with satisfied exhaustion.”
Sunny’s eyes grew comically wide, and I was pretty sure mine were about to pop out of my head as well. I guessed that’s what I got for assuming my mind was incapable of being blown further.
“But after millennia of being at the sexual beck and call of countless aroused mortals,” Angelica continued, “one begins to wonder if there isn’t more to life. I began to resent the invasions of my privacy and gradually reduced the number of calls I answered, until I ceased answering them altogether. Many of my kind have shunned me for my decision to embrace celibacy, but it is my life and I feel I should be able to live it according to my choosing.” Her voice had taken on a decidedly stubborn tone.
Unable to peel my eyes from her, I cleared the dryness from my throat as I tried to form a response. “Of course you should,” I agreed hoarsely. So that was where the whole ‘right to privacy’ and ‘conduct our lives the way we see fit’ rant had come from when she’d agreed not to reveal Jasper’s presence to hotel management.
“So, how come you showed up for Syd’s little moaning session about not getting any?” Sunny asked, her voice falling somewhere between sympathy and glee.
I tossed a throw pillow at her. It missed and landed next to Jasper, who looked up from his interrupted nap with a green glare.
Angelica frowned helplessly. “It seems my decision to deny my natural tendencies has had an unexpected side effect. The longer I go without sexual gratification, the harder it becomes to deny the call of passion—any call of passion. Normally succubi and incubi are able to pick and choose which calls they answer. And we generally will go to a mortal during the dream state, so that they believe they have simply experienced an unusually erotic dream.
“But the intensity of Sydney’s sexual frustration called to mine and I was unable to resist. So far, I have been able to conceal my presence when this has happened—however it becomes more and more difficult. I have not yet figured out how to resolve this problem,” she explained in an apologetic tone.
“Um, I can see how fulfilling everyone else’s desires all the time could get pretty tiresome,” I offered, “but although celibacy can be good for certain people, it seems like maybe it’s a rather drastic approach for someone like you. Have you considered having a relationship with just one person? You know—someone who’s aware that you’re a succubus and doesn’t mind helping you ignore all those…calls of passion?”
“Yeah,” Sunny enthused, “someone who’ll get together for your steamy little trysts at times that are convenient for both of you!”
Angelica stared at us with an expression akin to horror. “Monogamy?” she whispered, her pert nose wrinkling in disgust.
Sunny snorted.
“Well, yeah,” I chuckled. “How much worse could it be than celibacy?”
“Succubi are not monogamous creatures,” Angelica denied vehemently.
“Well, apparently they’re not celibate creatures either.” Sunny was laughing openly now.
I shrugged. “You could at least give it a try. It might ease some of that pent-up frustration that has you popping up unexpectedly in people’s living rooms,” I said with a pointed smile.
The look on Angelica’s face reminded me of the first time my Grandma had scooped a pile of creamed spinach onto my plate. I couldn’t believe I was actually supposed to put something that disgusting-looking into my mouth.
“You might be right.” She sounded shocked that she was even considering such a thing. “I suppose I could give it a try.”
“I bet you could have any man—or woman—you wanted,” Sunny offered.
“I’m sure you could,” I agreed with a glance at her perfect figure.
“Just do me a favor,” I added, “and don’t choose a half-human, half-sidhe named Patrick Sparrow. I don’t think I could take another man cheating on me.”
Whoa. Where had that come from? Sparrow and I weren’t together—i.e. it was none of my business who he slept with. I really needed to get a handle on the teenage crush thing.
“So you do have a handsome man to bring you many orgasms!” Angelica said, regaining some of her usual spark. “I hope you have allowed him to stand and enter you from behind while you knelt on that bed of yours. And the couch! You must have lowered yourself onto his beautiful erection while he sat on the couch. Tell me, which did you prefer?”
I choked, feeling heat suffuse my face until I was sure it must be glowing candy-apple red. Sunny howled with laughter, tears streaming from her eyes. Angelica looked at us in bewilderment. “What?” she asked.
“I’m afraid Syd hasn’t had the chance to experience Patrick’s beautiful erection yet,” Sunny wheezed. “Hence, her sexual frustration.”
“Oh, right,” Angelica frowned. “Well, why has this man not granted you the fulfillment you deserve?” she asked in an affronted tone. “Does he prefer men?” She gave me a look of sympathy.
I closed my eyes in mortification.
“Uh no, I think it’s quite possible that he prefers Syd,” Sunny interjected on my behalf, still chortling gleefully.
In deference to my crush, I had described all of my Sparrow encounters in minute detail for Sunny. She agreed that, although he seemed to be holding back, he acted as if he was interested in me.
“Some humans tend to be a little more reticent about their sexual practices than you are, though, Angelica,” Sunny continued with a snigger. “They go through this whole ritual of getting to know each other first—maybe a little kissing here and there, then some hot and heavy foreplay—before they actually jump into the sack together.
“Syd and Patrick have only met a few times and they aren’t to the erection sharing stage just yet. Plus, Syd has been a little preoccupied lately with finding her way out of a death
djinn contract. Not to mention that she’s still married to her loser of a cheating husband.”
“Why don’t you just lay it all on the table,” I grumped.
I felt a soft, warm probing, like a spot of concentrated sunlight hitting my chest. “But your soul is still intact, Sydney,” Angelica informed me, concern etching her voice. “How can you have completed a contract with a death djinn?”
“Oh, it’s not completed yet,” I assured her. “I have one more wish to go.”
“Oh Sydney, this is no good! You must not give in and make that wish, no matter what they promise you. Nothing is worth the eternal enslavement of your soul!
“Certain of my kind have been known to deal in the soul trade, using their powers to bestow ultimate pleasure as their bargaining tools. It is an evil business. Death djinns will promise the same; you must remain strong. I know several very talented and upstanding incubi who would be happy to relieve your sexual frustration, so that you will not be as tempted by the death djinns,” she offered.
“Uh, thanks, Angelica. That’s very kind of you—but I think I’ll hold off on going that route until the situation becomes a little more desperate,” I declined, trying my best to sound appreciative.
Come to think of it, I probably would have taken her up on it if I hadn’t had Sparrow on the brain—or more aptly, other parts of my anatomy. Who was I kidding—how much more desperate could it get?
“Well, if you’re sure,” she said doubtfully. “Why do you not simply enjoy sexual congress with the man you have married, then? Is that not what humans do?”
“I told you—he cheated on her,” Sunny interjected with a sympathetic wince in my direction.
Angelica looked at both of us in confusion.
“The monogamy thing,” I mumbled.
“Oh,” Sunny said in sudden comprehension.
She began a hasty explanation for Angelica, presumably so that I wouldn’t have to.
“Syd’s husband had sex with someone else. Generally when two humans marry, they both expect the other person to remain sexually faithful only to them for as long as they’re married. It’s like a promise they make to each other. If one person breaks that promise, it’s a serious betrayal. Some couples work it out, but others are unwilling to accept the betrayal and can no longer be happy remaining in the marriage.”
A Risky Proposition Page 12
