I didn’t answer, but let’s be honest, he didn’t need me to. Instead, I pushed myself off of George’s lap and stood. They both scrambled to help me up. “Did I mess up your crime scene again?” I said as he placed a large hand on my elbow.
He shook his head, a placating smile on his face. “Not so bad this time.”
I rocked forward, away from George’s comforting arms. “She was dead.” I rubbed my palms over goosefleshed arms.
George and Damien shared a look. A look that said I needed to be committed. “Um, yeah. No shit, Monica. Why do you think we’re here?” George’s lip curled whenever he was being snarky. It was never attractive.
“No. She
was
dead. He was having sex with her
after
she had already died. I guess it gave her enough power to wake up. He snapped her neck to kill her again. Apparently he didn’t give her enough power to heal her wounds.”
Damien nodded, his finger to his lips in thought. “That would explain why we found poison in her system as well as the broken neck. The official report was that the broken neck was the cause of death. Initially we just thought he enjoyed the kill, and used the poison to simply sedate her, but this makes a lot more sense.”
“He fucked a dead woman?” All color drained from George’s face as he stared at the picture in her open file. “You know, Monica . . . she sort of looks like you.”
I took the picture from him and peered at it closer. We had similar coloring and features. We both had our hair cut in layers just below the shoulders. George was right. The one succubus he ended up having sex with after death was the one who looked the most like me.
Damien put a hand on George’s shoulder and sat him in a chair. “You okay?” George shook his head, beads of sweat breaking out along his forehead. “Put your head between your knees.” George did as instructed with no protest. “So,”—Damien paced around the room, talking more to himself than to us—“the killer has to be human, right? Succubi can’t get energy from immortals.”
“Not . . . necessarily.” George spoke from between his knees, breathing slowly with each word. “We can steal energy from other immortals. Usually not through sex, but through blood. We can all gain power by consuming various magical blood.”
Both their heads snapped toward me. “Was she bleeding?” Damien asked.
I thought back to the horrible memory. “They both were.”
“But life force is taken only when orgasm is reached?” Damien looked back at George again.
“Mostly, yes.” I answered for George since he seemed so out of breath. “If we’re starved enough and close to death, though, something as small as a kiss can induce an orgasm in most creatures.”
“Hmm.” Damien grinned at me. “You turned out to be more valuable than I thought you would.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are we done here?”
He gave a single nod and then looked down at George. “Let’s get her home.”
We stepped out of the apartment and Damien locked up behind us. Shielding the late morning sun from my eyes, I squinted, seeing a silhouetted figure walking in our direction.
“Oh great,” George murmured.
The figure continued walking toward us, her breasts leading the way. I saw her clothing before I saw her face—and there was only one person who could make Prada look slutty. Lexi.
Her brown hair was cut bluntly at her shoulders, and long, straight bangs tickled her eyelashes in an annoying way that left me wanting to rip them out by the roots. She stopped close to me—too close. I was breathing the air she exhaled, but I held my ground firmly. I would
not
be the one to step back.
“Well, well, well.” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re looking—
homely
today.”
I gritted my teeth. My Queen might not have been present at the moment, but it’s still never a good idea to piss off her right-hand woman. “I’m sure it’s better than anything you could do with that straw you call hair. Gee,” I said, dramatically placing a finger to my chin, “it must just kill you that even with no shifting and my tits fully covered, Lucien
still
chooses to spend his time with me over you.”
Her breathing grew intense, and her chest rose and fell in angry heaves. I leaned in closer, mocking a whisper. “You should be careful. Inflate those babies much more and they’re likely to pop.” Okay, so maybe I needed a little work in the anger management department of my life.
Lexi’s teeth were clenched. “Why you ungrateful little bitch. I’m stuck here working to save your life and you insult me?”
“
You
ambushed
me,
” I countered.
She sneered a smile. “That’s not what my notes to Mia will say.”
My breath stuck in my throat and a small surge of panic caught me right in the chest. Mia was downright terrifying when she was normal. I’d hate to see her angry. “So—what exactly are you doing here? Following me?”
“Hardly.” She snorted a laugh, telling me exactly what she thought of that idea. “I suppose I’m here doing exactly what you were. Checking out the crime scenes.”
“Not in my crime scene, you’re not.” Damien spoke from behind me, stepping forward.
Lexi looked him up and down, devouring him. She arched an eyebrow. “And you are?”
“Detective Kane. This is my crime scene.”
She stepped forward, moving me aside with the back of her hand. “Oh yeah?” She licked her lips and pushed her breasts into his chest. He stared down at them, mesmerized. I didn’t know if I wanted to clothesline her or
him
. I had no claim over either of them, but jealousy itched over my skin like poison oak.
“I’m sure I could arrange something with you, right?” Her lips were close to his, and she glanced over at me as she flicked out a tongue to his lips.
I looked at George, my eyes wide and panicked. He rolled his eyes and grabbed Lexi by the elbow, pulling her away from Damien. “I’ll take you up to see it.” He held a hand out, palm up to Damien. “Keys?”
George was dragging her into the building.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Damien. He smirked and leaned against his truck. “What?” he asked innocently, eyes wide.
“It would be nice if you could keep it in your pants. For once.”
“Ah. Jealous?”
“Of Lexi? Hardly.”
“What do you care? I’m not your concern.”
I rolled my eyes so far back into my head, that my neck actually mimicked the movement. “I
don’t
care. But even scum like you should have higher standards than Lexi.” I laughed at myself as I said it. “But what am I saying? You’re the ‘other man’ in Adrienne’s life. You clearly just have terrible taste in women.”
He turned so that he was facing me and put a hand on my hip. His head tilted in close to mine. “Is that so?”
I smacked his hand away from my body, but it just stayed right there on my hip like a bug that wouldn’t leave me alone.
“Yes. It is.”
“And if I told you that
you
were my type? What would you say to that?”
I swallowed, and a flutter of excitement spiraled in my stomach like a twister. “I’d say that you’re a liar. There’s no way someone could be with Adrienne and seriously claim that I was also his type.”
“You mean like your coffee shop man?”
I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut again.
Damn
. “That’s different. Drew’s just . . . naive.”
He gave my hip a tight squeeze. “If you give me a good reason to stay away from Lexi, I will. Otherwise, she’s easy with big tits. And fair game—considering you’re spoken for already. I keep forgetting . . . who is it you’re dating today?”
I stepped away from him, shoving his hand back toward his body. “She’s a succubus,” I said simply. “You sleep with her and you’ll lose years off your life.”
He lit a cigarette and held out the pack to me. I shook my head no. The cigarette dangling from his lips combined with him leaning against his car in his black leather jacket—he looked like he belonged in the cast of
The Outsiders
. The smoke blew from his nostrils as he exhaled a small laugh. “Nope. We elementals are immune to your poison, succubus.” He held the cigarette out for me to take a puff. “You sure you don’t want just one drag?” The smell was so bitter and sweet. One drag wouldn’t hurt. I wrapped my lips around it and inhaled the sweet and spicy smoke. “I’m a lot like this cigarette,” he said. We stood farther apart now. I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to make the throbbing between my legs stop. He continued, “You know I’m bad for you, but you just can’t seem to bring yourself to throw out that last pack.”
24
Malta, 1942
T
he medic tent was filled almost entirely. We had more wounded soldiers coming in than we had beds. Most of our supplies were in the hotel that we had taken over, but we set up the tents even closer to where the battles were in order to get to the men faster.
“Nurse! We need a nurse over here!” a doctor yelled from across the room as they rushed in a new patient. I was on the other side but quickly taped off the wound I was dressing and rushed over. My heart pounded; a tightness in my chest consumed me as I ran to the new soldier.
The memory flashed into my mind. Wills and I having sex the last time before he shipped off to France for the war. His death splashed across my memory. Blood. Lots of it. A battlefield. Bombs and guns still going off in the distance. And Wills drifting off into the unconscious in someone’s arms. A part of me hoped that someone would be me, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t meant to be. The only sounds other than explosions were his fellow dying soldiers.
I shook the thought from my mind. If I could just find him. I knew from the countryside that the battle was somewhere near France. And it was probably sometime soon. I ran to the newest soldier, holding my breath as he came into view. A bloodied face—barely recognizable. Legs blown off at the knees. I leaned in closer to get a better view. Not my Wills. Too burly.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. A breath I didn’t know I was holding escaped through my parted lips.
“You going to just stand there? Get some goddamn gauze!” The doctor yelled at me, and I rushed to the rolling cart, coming back with medicines, gauze, and wraps for his open wounds. Everyone here was being pushed too far. Especially the doctors. As much as I hated being yelled at, it was almost excusable during such an unbearable time. We all had our coping mechanisms.
“Take him into the private tent and get him cleaned up. Holler for me when ready and I’ll stitch him up. Think you can handle that?” I gritted my teeth at his condescending tone and nodded. Dr. Yells A Lot opened a flask, threw his head back, and took a gulp of something that smelled like motor oil. He pulled me aside by the elbow. “And don’t waste the morphine. This one’s probably not going to make it.” He patted my rear end before clomping away to his next patient.
I looked over at the dying soldier. He wasn’t my soldier—but he was somebody’s. And the doctor couldn’t care less about saving his life. The soldier gurgled something and I rushed to his side, taking his bloody hand in mine. “Save your energy,” I whispered to him. “It will be all right, I promise.”
He gurgled again and in a raspy voice, I heard one word. “Beautiful.”
I smiled at him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Two other nurses helped me carry the patient into a private tent that was unused, then hurried off to attend their own cases. Dried blood was still on the edges of the table from the last injured soldier. I dipped a rag into a bowl of water. “This might burn.” I washed away the blood, taking my time. Burns covered a lot of the left side of his body. I cut his clothes away from him. After cleaning as much of the blood as I could, he reached up, hand trembling and touched my face.
“Angel,” he whispered.
I stepped back instinctively. “No.”
His eyes were drifting off. Staring at me, but also through me. As if he could see something that wasn’t actually there. “Seraphina.” He barely got the word out before his head flopped to the side and vomit mixed with blood projected from his cracked lips.
“Oh Hell,” I cried. The doctor was right. He was too far gone. He was in pain. I had to do something. If he hadn’t been vomiting, I would have offered him some whiskey to dull the pain.
“You’re going to die.” I stood there frozen, and the words escaped from my barely moving lips. This was nothing new. I’d seen numerous men die. But for the first time, a realization dawned on me. I may no longer be a Heavenly angel, but I could be their angel of death. I could offer him peace. I could end his suffering.
I looked down at his body. He was still breathing. No longer vomiting, though blood trickled out of his ears and mouth. I pulled my knickers off and tucked them on the table with supplies. Gently, I climbed on top of him—careful not to put too much weight on the injured areas. His body twitched. His eyes widened ever so slightly as if he knew on some level what was about to happen.
I rubbed myself against him, his body reacting despite his mind’s unawareness. What little blood was left in his body rushed to his nether regions. When he was firm enough, I slipped him inside of me. His eyes fluttered and he grunted. Some of his juices dripped into me, and the tendrils of magic started. It was like liquid gold being absorbed into my body. The pins and needles coursed through my veins.
I rode him gently, circling my hips carefully over his. His hand rested on my dress, and his eyes met mine one last time. “Angel,” he whispered again as his eyes rolled back into his head. I leaned forward and closed his eyelids. A light fluttering of a pulse was still present. I squeezed my muscles around him as he climaxed, and I felt his soul leave like a chilly whoosh. The flash of his life lasted for less than a second. It wasn’t a scene as much as it was a feeling. Peace. And pleasure. I had given him a send off better than choking on his own vomit. I climbed off of him and cleaned each of us up quickly.
I kissed his forehead and covered him with the dirty sheet. As I exited the tent, I saw the doctor up ahead, smoking. “He’s gone,” I said as I approached him. “He just passed.”
The doctor was finishing a cigarette and flicked it to the ground. “Good,” he said. “Poor man would have had a hell of a time if he had survived with those wounds.”
When I glanced up, his eyes flitted up and down my body. I quickly looked away, keeping my eyes down, not meeting his. He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you did all you could.”
I looked up again, this time meeting his eyes. He held my gaze and swallowed. It was as if he knew the soldier perished at my touch.
“I need another nurse over here! Gotta live one!” a voice called from inside the main tent. My heart jolted to my throat, and I swiveled around to get a look.
“Well,” he said, “don’t just stand there. Go. There’s plenty of men who are still alive and need our attention.”
I nodded and rushed off. Wills’s face popped into my mind, and as I ran to the newest soldier, I held my breath again.