Drained: The Lucid (35 page)

Morgan’s blush crossed from cheek to cheek. “We should probably get reading before it gets too late,” she diverted.

The tea had gone cold in untouched cups, and heads were bent into open books. Morgan’s lips moved silently as she pored over the words that revealed a world she knew of through personal experience, but had never seen in print beyond a few religious texts and online articles. Riley looked at her watch, now serving as a simple timekeeper with a woman off the grid. She was sure she was breaking every rule in the Trusics handbook and each unwritten rule of the cubare community.

Between glances at Morgan and her watch, Riley was distracted. She needed to feed if she wanted to stay the entire night. Until there was a permanent solution, bottled energy was the best option, and she refused to entertain the idea of obtaining energy the old fashion way between them, not when there was some creep out there looking for Morgan.

“I’ll be right back.” With the curious human lost in a sea of text, it was easy to slip away. She grabbed their mugs from the table. “I’m going to pour these out, make us each a fresh cup.”

Morgan mumbled something unintelligible into the book she was reading. The sight amused Riley; she could have stripped off all of her clothes, and Morgan wouldn’t have noticed.

Alone in the kitchen, Riley filled the familiar kettle and turned on the stove. There wasn’t a drawer that she hadn’t memorized after her months of visits. She glanced back into the living room to make sure that Morgan hadn’t followed her. When she was sure that even a tornado outside wouldn’t have moved the human from the couch, Riley turned her focus to the vials back in her apartment and conjured one.

Riley stared at the corked energy. The angry vapor swirled around inside, a vivid reminder of her first experience with the dirty energy at the Red Sea Tavern. She’d never taken this kind of bottled energy in a dream before. The energy Darren had given her had left her pinched, but the side effects were minimal. She theorized that, in higher dosage, she could have survived on the substance. Who knew the side effects of this dark matter? But if she wanted to stay for longer than the usual hour without taking advantage of Morgan, she would have to do this, and hopefully, if she was lucky, she could avoid permanent damage to her health.

“Bottoms up,” she muttered to no one in particular.

• • •

“Well, this is charming.” Heather folded her arms across her chest.

“I like it,” Madison’s voice bubbled. “It’s … cute and festive.”

“It’s pedestrian,” Seven snorted.

“It’s
normal
,” Riley corrected.

Aaron’s promotion party was held in the yard and three-car garage of the new home he had recently purchased with his wife. Streamers and a plastic banner that proclaimed “Congratulations!” hung from the rafters.

“I need to find James,” Heather announced as she strode away.

“Open bar!” Madison and Seven cheered simultaneously.

A long buffet table blanketed in an assortment of appetizers was positioned against a far wall. The food was there for appearance’s sake and for the humans in attendance. The bar where Madison and Seven skipped away to, arm in arm, was far more popular. Riley grabbed herself a plate and began stacking it high with baby quiche and bacon-wrapped figs.

She brought her plate to an open table and sat by herself on a padded folding chair. The invitation had allowed for a plus-one, but with her strained relationship with Amber, she’d come to the party alone. Out of all of their friends, Aaron was Riley’s number-one supporter in her pursuit of a relationship with a human. It wasn’t that he had an affinity for the waitress, but he believed in reuniting two flawed pieces of the same soul.

Riley popped a caramelized fig into her mouth and took in her surroundings. She couldn’t recall having seen Aaron look so happy, except maybe on his wedding day. His pretty human wife hung on the arm of the centuries-old incubus, surrounded by friends and co-workers. Even from across the garage Riley could see the mutual adoration in the newlyweds’ eyes.

Aaron was the oldest incubus she knew. While the majority of her friends and acquaintances had all become cubare during the twentieth century, Aaron had been turned at the age of forty in the mid-fifth century. Modern cubare were sired much earlier in their lives, as Riley had been at twenty-five, but it wasn’t unusual for the elders to have been in their fourth or fifth decade of life before becoming cubare.

She didn’t know much about Aaron’s pre-incubus life beyond having been a soldier during the collapse of the Roman Empire, but among her circle of friends, everyone had a similar backstory. They’d all signed up for this life because their future as a human looked bleak. Seven had been enticed at the height of the Great Depression. Heather had been fleeing the dual oppression of the British Empire in India as well as her controlling parents; they’d demanded she curb her aspirations and marry a man she didn’t love. James’s story was the most unique. His mother, also succubus, had sired him as he lied on his deathbed, a soon-to-be casualty of the second World War. He was the only one in the group who hadn’t actively chosen to become cubare, but he never talked about regrets. As for Madison, she was a California girl with roots in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco during the late 1960s. She’d probably become a succubus because it sounded fun, Riley mused.

“Eating for two?” Madison plopped down next to Riley. Her beverage—some fruity concoction with rum, no doubt—threatened to spill over the side of the tall glass.

Riley popped another quiche into her mouth. “Didn’t want to let all this food go to waste,” she lied. In truth, she was starving. The food would do nothing to sate her cravings. Only sexual energy would do, but the human action eased her mind on some level.

Between her upkeep with her regular clients and the wear that the bottled energy was causing her, Riley wasn’t sure how much longer she could sustain her new routine. It had been about a week, and she could already feel the lingering effects. The bags under her eyes could be covered up with makeup, but she didn’t know if the listlessness that consumed her was apparent.

For days, Morgan and she had gone through a small library of books. Nothing useful had surfaced in the material they had scanned through, but luckily there hadn’t been another unwelcome visit. Her options were dwindling, and the only course of action that seemed to make sense was dangerous. To truly protect Morgan, she needed to put a stop to Sean. But in order to do that, she needed an ally.

Sean was older and experienced; she couldn’t go after him alone. She scanned the faces of her friends to determine her most reliable resource. Her eyes landed on the one incubus whose hatred for Sean had been unflappable. Riley wiped at her face and hands with a paper napkin, balled it up, and tossed it on her nearly empty plate.

She stood, flatting the skirt of her dress against the back of her thighs, and approached her friend.

“Seven.”

“Riles!” Seven grinned widely and threw his arm around her shoulders. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I want to go after Sean.” She had no patience to tiptoe around the topic. “You’re the most connected cubare I know. Can you or one of your contacts track down his whereabouts?”

Seven’s refined features clouded over. “Trusics hasn’t been able to find him, Riles,” he reminded her in a hushed tone, “and they have infinite resources. What makes you think I could do any better?”

“You heard the rumors, you confirmed he was in town,” Riley paused. “Can’t you figure—”

“What’s with the serious faces over here?” Heather swooped in, wine glass in one hand. “You guys are at a party.”

“Riley wants to track down Sean,” Seven announced.

“Traitor,” Riley hissed. She slapped him harmlessly on the shoulder.

“Why would you want to do a thing like that?” Heather blinked and the surprise on her face turned to disgust. “You don’t still have feelings for him after all these years?”

“No,” Riley vehemently denied. “I want to find him so my fist can have a nice conversation with his face. It’s a far cry from rekindling an old, regrettable flame.”

“What’s going on with you lately?” Heather’s eyes scanned the corner they occupied to make sure they weren’t in earshot of the other guests. “We don’t kill humans, and we most definitely don’t attack our own kind, whether they deserve it or not. Do I have to get James involved?” Her eyes worked over the party crowd, most likely to look for her more levelheaded partner.

“No. I—it was just an impulse.” She folded her arms and shifted her stance. “Look, ever since the thing with Liam, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that things aren’t as safe as they appear to be. The calm before the storm, right?”

She felt justified, knowing what she did about Sean’s history with Morgan. And she suspected he was behind the home invasion as well. But these were all things she couldn’t share with her friends, and especially not with Heather. She’d told her she’d gotten rid of Morgan as a mark after the incident with her bruised nose.

“I’m really worried about you, Riles.” Heather touched her fingers to Riley’s forearm. “You’ve been off for a while now.” Dark eyes filled with concern regarded her. “Whatever you did with my best friend, I want her back.”

• • •

Riley’s mirrored reflection made her pause. She turned her face to examine her profile. If the energy Darren had once procured for her had left her hungry, the dark matter she was now relying on made her ravenous. She couldn’t seem to consume enough food, and she knew it was the result of the dirty energy. Her cheekbones appeared more prominently, but so did the dark circles under her eyes. Without the magic of makeup, most mornings she woke up looking tired, drawn, and gaunt. She pulled up the bottom hem of her T-shirt. She had always been slender with a thin but capable frame, but she could nearly count the ribs in her chest. Luckily, she no longer wore lingerie around Morgan, or she was sure the woman would start asking questions.

There was a short knock on the bathroom door.

“Just a minute,” Riley called.

“Are you okay in there?” Morgan’s muffled voice asked.

Riley had left Aaron’s party earlier than her other friends. They had the luxury of taking the night off from the realm to celebrate with Aaron, but Riley had returned to Morgan, just as she’d done each night since the dream intruder. Constant consumption of dark energy allowed her a solid six or seven hours with Morgan, which gave the other woman enough sleep to function in her waking hours and Riley just enough spare time to keep up her quota for Trusics. Typically she only spent an average of six or seven hours total in the realm on work nights. The extra hours she had to spend in the realm to meet her monthly energy production were cutting into time she’d otherwise spend with friends, Amber, or on her own. But, for the moment, it was what she was prepared to do to keep Morgan safe until they found an alternative.

“Yeah. I’ll be out soon,” Riley replied.

“Are you doing drugs in there?” Riley couldn’t tell if Morgan was joking. Her tone was indecipherable.

The door handle jangled behind her. Riley couldn’t remember if she’d locked it. In the reflection of the overhead mirror, she watched the doorknob rotate all the way. Before she could yell or stop its movement, the door swung open.

“What are you doing in here?” Morgan blocked the now-open bathroom doorway.

Riley spun to face the nosy woman. In her haste, her hand made contact with the glass vial, knocking it from the counter. It bounced off the bathmat, the fall softened by the plush material under foot.

Morgan scooped the unbroken bottle from the ground.

“That’s …” The words got stuck in Riley’s throat.

Morgan brought the glass bottle inches from her face for inspection. “This is why you keep disappearing. I thought maybe you had a small bladder.”

“Please be careful with that,” Riley pled.

Morgan chewed on the inside of her lip. “What is it?” She watched the dark, almost angry, smoke swirl around inside.

“It’s how I’m able to stay with you longer.”

“Why were you hiding this from me?”

“I … I don’t know,” Riley stammered. “It felt shameful to take it in front of you.”

Morgan handed her back the vial. “I want to see.”

Riley cleared her throat. “So now you’re a voyeur?” she shakily teased.

Morgan’s mouth flip-flopped into a frown. “Why were you hiding this?” she asked again. Riley’s original answer seemed unsatisfactory.

“Because this is black market sexual energy,” Riley finally admitted with a scowl.

“Is it dangerous?”

“It’s frowned upon.”

“But is it dangerous?” Morgan pressed. “To your health.”

“It’s …” Riley hesitated. “It’s not ideal,” she finally settled for. “But I promised you I’d protect you. And this is what it takes.” She moved to uncork the small vial, but Morgan’s hands stopped her.

“Feed off of me.”

“Now isn’t that a vampire cliché?” Riley attempted to joke and lighten the tension that had settled over the room like a suffocating blanket.

Morgan didn’t take the bait. She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me.”

“I thought I was a weed?” Riley countered.

Morgan quirked a small smile. “You’re a more tolerable weed.”

“Take a step back,” Riley instructed. “I don’t want you to accidentally get any of this.”

“What would happen if a human ingested some of that?” Morgan asked, nodding to the bottle.

“In the realm? I honestly have no idea. But it happens all the time in the waking world.”

“Really?” She tilted her head.

Riley allowed herself a smirk. “You honestly didn’t think celebrities stayed looking that young just from juicing, yoga, and plastic surgery, did you?”

Morgan blinked a few times, looking truly flabbergasted. “I had no idea.”

“Along with internet ventures, my employer sells an exclusive line of beauty products. The last time I checked, the energy was mixed into lotions and creams.”

“And that stops people from aging?”