by Tate James
Succubus, huh? Figured. Really, I wasn't all that surprised.
I decided to ignore that bit of information for the moment, watching as Shane yanked a duffel bag from the back of the van.
“Are you sure kuntemopharn isn’t going to come for us here?” I asked instead, and it was George who answered.
“In the middle of the city? Probably not—at least not yet. They’ll wait for us to come back.”
“Clearly your parents in no hurry to do whatever the fuck it is they’re planning to do since you’re still alive,” Billy tossed my way, hauling his own duffel bag over his shoulder and nodding with his chin for me to lead the way. “Show us where to go, Firebug.”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and then opened them back up. Okay, so, Siobhan was a succubus, no big deal. It wasn’t like I’d almost been killed by one of her kind just last week or anything … And surely she wouldn’t mind me bringing four random dudes she’d never met in her life to hang in her studio apartment, right?
“Does your friend know we're coming?” George asked skeptically as we took Siobhan's elevator up to the twenty-fourth floor. “I only ask because succubi and incubi often entertain ahh, clients in their homes …”
This made me pull up short.
“Wait, you don't mean … ugh, I always thought she was a bit promiscuous! This makes so much more sense now.”
“And coming from someone who’s friends with the slutty furball, that's saying a lot,” Reg muttered under his breath and I whacked him in the gut.
“Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Reginald,” I teased, then turned back to George. “No, I don't know where the hell my phone ended up and don't know her number so …” I shrugged.
We'd just reached her door, so I knocked and waited. Then knocked again. Waited some more. Raised my hand to knock a third time and Shane grabbed my wrist gently.
“I don't think she's home, darlin',” he murmured, stroking the underside of my wrist with his fingers. I shivered with pleasure, but at least my runes didn't go nuts—yay, glamour!
“But … she has to be …” I frowned at him, unprepared for this turn of events. Siobhan worked from home, which I now realized was code for being a supernatural call girl, so where would she be? Maybe just gone out to the shops or something?
“Oh, wait!” I had a spark of memory—I knew where her spare key was. “We can just go in and use her phone to call her,” I explained as I fished it out from behind the firehose at the end of the hallway.
“Is she not going to mind us just letting ourselves in?” George asked, looking a bit concerned, but I figured, why tell me where the spare key was if I wasn't allowed to use it?
“She'll be fine. Probably gone out to buy more vodka or lube … and suddenly the amount of sex toys she owns makes a whole hell of a lot more sense. Fucking succubus. Why are none of my friends human?” I was mostly muttering this to myself as I unlocked Siobhan's door and let my little harem of men inside.
“Because you're a particularly strong elemental, Sugar Tits,” Reg answered anyway, “and like calls to like and power calls to power. I wouldn't be surprised if this succubus is one of the elites, and your dress wearing wolf turns out to be the alpha's new mate or some shit.”
“Huh.” I paused, considering this. “Wouldn't that be fun to see? Britt with a mate.” Snickering to myself, I headed into Siobhan's little kitchenette and grabbed her phone from the counter.
“Have a seat or whatever,” I told the guys. “I'll just see where she's at.”
The phone only rang a couple of times before my other bestie's voice answered with an upbeat, “Hello Morgs!”
“How did you know it was me?” I asked, smiling. She always called me Morgs, because of my middle name. Don't know why, she'd just always done it. The two of us had met after college when I'd moved to Oregon and started working at a Dutch Bros.; she'd come in at all hours of the night to get coffee. One of the reasons I'd decided to commit to the New York move—besides Gram, obviously—was because of Siobhan.
“Well, it says that my own apartment is calling me and seeing as you're the only one I trust enough to know where my key is …” she trailed off with a sultry laugh.
“Yeah, fair enough,” I replied. “Where are you anyway? I came to er, visit.” No point in dumping my whole story about Kuntemopharn at her door just yet. That could wait until after a few vodkas. Or glasses of wine … Siobhan usually kept some good stuff around her apartment, so I began hunting through cupboards while we talked.
“I'm in Barbados, babe!” She laughed. “I've been seeing this new guy, and he just called up last night and told me we were taking an impromptu holiday, and so, here we are!”
In the background I could hear a man's voice murmuring and Siobhan's throaty sex laugh. It’s amazing I hadn't worked out she was a succubus before now.
“Uh-huh,” I murmured a bit sarcastically as I fished out a corkscrew to open the bottle of red I had just snaked from her pantry. “New guy? Or new client?”
There was a long pause on the phone.
“Babe, it's not what you think …” she started, her voice dropping all traces of her laughter, but I just snorted.
“It's not that you're a succubus masquerading as a call girl in order to get easy meals?” I snickered and heard her sigh of relief on the other end.
“Oh thank god, you know about the supernatural thing? That would have been so damn awkward to explain otherwise!” Her sex laugh was back and the man with her murmured something else near the receiver, probably kissing up her neck or something. Men couldn't keep their fucking hands off Siobhan. “At your Gram's funeral, I felt that elemental vibe on you, babe. I was wondering how long it'd be before some quad or quint hunted your ass down. I assume that's what happened? Females in your species are rare as fuck.”
“So I've learned …” I said, trailing off and wondering how much I wanted to get into over the phone. Unfortunately, Siobhan made that choice for me. While Britt was my ride or die bitch, Siobhan was more of a wild card.
“Babe, I've got to go. Stay as long as you want; I don't know when I'll be back! Ciao!”
She disconnected before I had a chance to say anything else, so I put the phone down and took a healthy sip of wine straight from the bottle. Glasses were overrated. Besides, if she wasn't going to give me a little girl time, she owed me booze.
“So when is your friend coming back?” Shane asked. He leaned on the doorframe to the little kitchenette, making the room look tiny in comparison to his massive bulk. When did these guys have the time to work out?
“She doesn't know,” I replied, offering him my bottle of wine. “She's in Barbados with a client, but we're welcome to stay here.”
“Well then,” he said, taking a slow sip from the bottle, then licking his lips like a goddamn porn star, “what are we going to get up to here in the Big Apple?”
“I don't really know,” I admitted, “I hadn't thought that far ahead. I'd fucking kill for dinner and dancing though …?”
“Seriously?” He coughed, choking a little on some wine and looking at me like I'd just grown a second vagina in the middle of my forehead.
“Uh yeah … why not? We all just nearly died, I don't even know how many times in the last three days. Isn't it about time we cut loose and had some normal human fun?” I propped my hand on my hip, sticking my butt out a little in what I hoped might be a bit of a sexy pose. Probably just looked constipated though, such was the level of my game. How I ended up friends with Britt and Siobhan, I can't even explain. Maybe I made them look good?
“Shane has a thing about dancing,” Reg snickered, and the Southern sexpot tossed him a dirty look before turning a small smile back my direction. Heck, maybe my hip pop really was working? Shane seemed as if he liked what he saw.
“Aw, hell. You know I can't say no to you, Sugar,” Shane groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “Boys, our new wife wants us to take her to dinner and dancing!”
“Does she now?” Billy grinned, popping out of Siobhan's closet holding a pair of handcuffs and a flogger. “I think we might have more fun staying here.”
“Oh, Billy, put down the dirty succubus sex toys, please,” George said with a small shudder.
“Lighten up, Georgie Boy,” Billy chuckled, whacking him playfully with the flogger. “It’s not like I picked up her Ben Wa balls or her butt plugs … although she does have plenty of those back there, too!”
“Quit it you two,” Shane said with a small grin. “Billy, stop snooping through Ari's friend's sex toys and George, don't be dramatic. Everyone knows succubi and incubi have natural immunities STDs.”
“Dinner and dancing, you say?” Reg nodded thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Yes, I think that's a pretty damn good idea. I'll call my buddy that runs the Black and White Club down in the Meatpacking District. They've got an incredible restaurant on the ground floor, and a pretty wild nightclub on the basement level.”
“Sounds perfect!” I took another swig of wine, then handed the bottle to Billy when he held out his hand for it. What was a little backwash between lovers, right? He gave me a sultry wink and a smile that almost made me reconsider our plans.
Almost.
But with Siobhan out of town, there'd be plenty of time for sex later.
Now. What the hell was I wearing to go dancing?
Luckily, Siobhan was almost the same size as me, so I raided her closet (the clothing one) and was feeling pretty damn good about myself as our cab pulled up outside the packed restaurant. Most of Siobhan's outfits had been on the, uh, less demure side, but I'd finally settled on a super sexy hot pink minidress that would make Britt swoon with envy. Short enough to barely cover my ass, my long legs were well on display with the matching pink satin peep-toes. I'd taken a shower and used some of Siobhan's fancy hair products, so my blonde hair was shining, with the curls fluffed up in a sexy disheveled sort of way.
Billy had made a very tempting offer to make my bedhead more authentic, but I was determined to enjoy a normal night out with my four husbands. Well … as normal as was possible.
“Uh, Reg?” I muttered under my breath as we left our coats with the reception and followed the maître d' to our table. “You didn't tell me there was a dress code here.”
Everyone, and I mean everyone, staff and patrons alike, was dressed in either black or white, or a combination of the two. Who the hell would have known the name of the club was so damn literal?!
“I know, ST,” he chuckled, pulling out my chair for me in a rare display of gentlemanly manners, “but you looked so damn sexy in that dress, I didn't want you to change.”
“Everyone's staring.” I could feel my face flushing with heat. Being the center of attention was not my thing, at all.
“Everyone is dead jealous, darlin',” Shane said with a wink, then flagged down a waiter so we could start ordering a round of drinks.
“Guys this place is seriously fancy,” I said cautiously. “I know I can't afford to eat here, and you all don't have a pot to piss in between you, so …”
“Don't you worry your pretty little head, Sugar,” Shane replied, picking up my menu and handing it to me. “Reg is old friends with Hank, the man that owns this joint.”
“And Hank is …” Undoubtedly another supernatural creature the way my life was going these days.
“Incubus,” Reg replied, “and a real dirty bastard, too. You'll see when we head down to the club after dinner.” He threw me a wink that said all I needed to know. Whatever was downstairs in the club, I seriously doubted it'd be a normal night of dancing and margaritas.
Great. I'd tried to run from the supernatural and stumbled right into more of it.
Thus, the new story of my life.
“So, do incubi and succubi have some sort of elemental connection? They seem to be hanging around an awful lot.” As the waiter paused next to our table, I ordered some house specialty cocktail called the Bow Tie, because why the hell not? Mama was gettin' drunk tonight.
“Not particularly,” Reg said, reclining stupidly back in his seat. Even though he was dressed appropriately for the restaurant, he too stood out with from his sheer lack of propriety. At least there was that. “They just happen to be kind of … you know, populous.”
“Meaning there are a fuck of a lot of them around here,” Billy added, ordering fireball whiskey, neat, and tossing his menu onto the surface of the table. “Basically if you want to get shit done in the Northeastern United States or eastern Canada, you have to wheel and deal with those assholes.”
“Those assholes? Ah, Billy. And you thought I was comping dinner?” I glanced up at the speaking voice, trying not to shiver as a dream of a man paused next to our table in a white suit and black slacks. His smile was liquid sex and as he stretched it across his face, I could tell it was meant to slay. Fortunately, I think elementals were immune to their charms because even though I'd met several, I'd never felt anything for one. And clearly, their powers were sex related since, you know, they had to eat. What exactly it was that they ate was sort of beyond me.
Frankly, I didn't want to know.
Reg stood up to give his friend one of those stupid one-handed man hugs, withdrawing with a small shiver that let me know he, too, could feel his body's resistance to that supernatural pull.
“You didn't tell me you were in town?” Hank said, because this just had to be Hank. “You should come downstairs when you're done eating—Adonis and Rachel will be there somewhere. Nigel, too, if you want to kick his ass for laying hands on your wife.”
“Thanks,” Reg said, giving his friend a small salute. “Honestly, I feel like he deserves a kick to the balls. Let him know it's coming, would you?”
“You got it,“ Hank said, lifting a hand up toward the rest of us sitting at the table. “Enjoy your dinner everyone and I'll see you downstairs.“
“There's trouble afoot,” Gram said, appearing on my right side. I chose to ignore her, accepting my cocktail gratefully from the waiter. “Arizona, it's in your best interests not to ignore me, you know?”
“If there's trouble,” I ground out under my breath, realizing that even in a room full of supernaturals, I probably still looked like a weirdo. Fantastic. A freak in both worlds. “Then why don't you ferret it out?”
“I'm bound to you, remember? Duckie, you're a bit of a nitwit, you do realize that, don't you?”
“Are you talkin' to your dead grandmother again, Sug?” Shane asked, looking like some sort of oil tycoon in that suit, dark hair slicked back, accent thick as molasses. The tattoos on his hands were the only giveaway he wasn't quite a Southern plantation prince.
“She says there's trouble afoot,” I said, mimicking her upper-crust English accent in my American-Australian-British combo pack voice. I sounded kinda … like I was trying at all times for an accent I never quite reached. Most people thought I had some weird accent from a place they'd never heard of … or else I was mentally challenged. Either way … Kinda lame.
“There is trouble, Arizona; I can feel it.”
“You can't feel anything, you're dead,” I whispered as I opened my menu and tried not to gape at the prices. I mean, if it was comped and all … .I was ordering the most expensive thing on the menu for sure. Bacon wrapped filet mignon, here I come! “Did you have some sort of ghostly premonition or some shit?”
“Not yet. But I'm old, Arizona Morgan. I can tell when things just aren't right.”
I ignored her and glanced up as I folded my menu closed.
“I'm having steak, how about you boys?”
“I'm a vegetarian,” George said with a smile and I raised a brow.
“Of course you are,” I said as he smiled at me, giving my body this little thrill of memory, of those lips on my lips. Oh yes. George might be the nice guy in the group, but I wasn't going to discount his skills in the bedroom …
“Looks like the glamour's holding out,” George said, reaching over to take my h
and, twisting it over to examine the long, bare lengths of my arm. Not a single rune in sight. I was both relieved and also, sort of, I don't know, missing them? I must've been losing my fucking mind.
“It feels a little weird,” I said, my heart thundering as George ran his tanned hand up the paleness of my arm. God that feels good. “Like I'm covered in foundation or something. Not sure if I'm gonna like wearing this every day, all day.”
“We can make anti-glamour in the chalice as well,“ George said, turning my palm over and running a single finger across the lines in my hand. “You don't have to wear it everyday if you don't want to.” He sounded pleased at the idea, like I'd finally said something of intelligence. Maybe he liked me embracing my elemental side or something?
“How many spells can we make before the magic runs out?” I asked as I tried to surreptitiously take in the swanky restaurant digs. I'd never eaten somewhere so nice in my entire life. There were massive chandeliers soaring above our heads, and real wood molding on the walls that probably cost more than Gram's house.
“About a half-dozen small ones like the glamour,” Shane answered, drawing my attention back over to him in his sexy suit. “But we can always refill it if need be.” His smile was downright fucking wicked. I had to cross and uncross my legs under the table three times to stop the throbbing in my nether regions. And by nether regions, I mean my cunt.
“And to refill it …”
“Sugar, you just want me to say it—you know how we refill it.” Shane flashed me a wide grin and I found myself biting my lip flirtatiously. I think I was actually having fun with these assholes. “Group sex, that's how.”
“It'd make a hundred spells if fucking Warden were here,” Billy said, tapping his fingers on the table. Everyone went silent for a minute and Shane frowned. Great. Warden. Basically the elephant in the room.
Fortunately, the waiter chose that moment to come over and take our food orders.
“Why do you have to bring him up at every god-given moment?” Reg snapped, and I raised an eyebrow. It sort of maybe felt like Reginald and William had a sexual tension thing going on beneath the surface … Or maybe they were both just dicks?
