“I don't really know either.”
I rubbed my temples, sensing a nasty headache coming on. I wanted nothing more just then than to go home and veg on the couch with Seth on one side, Aubrey on the other, and a plate of brownies on my lap. It wasn't going to happen.
“I've got to get back down there. We're short two people now. I'm going to be here until closing again.”
“You want me to come over after work? I'm supposed to paint at Terry's, but I can bail on it.”
I assured Seth he didn't need to change his plans for me and then returned downstairs. Functionality had resumed as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The only thing noteworthy was the way the other staff watched me now. Not with mockery or amusement, but something else. If I hadn't known better, I would have said my respect rating had just shot up.
I got home after work, drained. Weak with exhaustion, mental and physical. When I absorbed life from victims, it was usually to sustain my immortal existence and shape-shifting. But life was full of other things that required energy. Breaking and entering. Working two twelve-hour shifts in a row. Staying virtuous around the man of your dreams. Reprimanding one of your best friends and discovering he was probably addicted to something nasty.
The need for vitality itched within me, making me irritable and anxious despite my worn-out feeling. For me, that energylonging translated into lust, a sudden need to be touched and consumed by someone I could consume in return.
I called Bastien.
“What is it now?” he asked sarcastically. “I suppose you're just going to cut to the chase and call Dana. That way you can get it over with and tell her how her neighbor has a plan to seduce her and bring down her organization. Maybe while you're at it, you can mention the break-in and get me arrested. You could even key my car if you wanted. It would be a perfect ending to my already ruined career.”
“Oh shut up,” I snapped, not having the patience for this. Apparently I still had some fury left in me from earlier. “First, you were not going to bed Dana last night, so get that out of your system. Second, you probably deterred her by answering the door in the first place, as stoned as you were. Third, if you'd really wanted to endear yourself to her, you would have shown more concern for me rather than coming off as an uncaring asshole.”
“How
is
your ankle?” he asked reluctantly.
“Fine. You know how it goes.” A sprain was barely a day's concern for an immortal. “Good enough to go dancing on.”
“Dancing?”
“Yes. I want you to take me out. Now. I just had the worst day ever.”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Are you turning me down? Since when have you been such a grudge-holder?”
“It's not just that . . . well, okay, maybe a little. But Bill invited me over to watch a football game.”
“You hate football.”
“Yeah, but I might see Dana. Sorry, Fleur. You're on your own tonight.”
Annoyed, I hung up and dialed the next best dancer I knew.
“Cody,” I said, “we're going clubbing.”
“Okay,” he returned agreeably, “but I'll have to bring Hugh and Peter.”
“Ack. They dance almost as badly as Seth.”
“Yeah. But I promised I'd hang out with them tonight. Unless you want to come over here? We're playing D&D right now. Do you know how many hit points a succubus has?”
“All right, all right. Bring them along.”
I hung up. It didn't really matter who came anyway. I mostly just wanted people to go out with. Companionship gave the outing some semblance of normality, though it wasn't like I needed any of them for what I was going to do.
“Jesus, woman,” breathed Hugh when I answered my door an hour later. “You're kind of screwing with my sisterly feelings for you.”
I had on a pleated black skirt that covered less than half my thighs. My top was off the shoulder with three-quarter sleeves, and it stopped just above my belly button, leaving my midriff bare. It was made of clinging, stretchy black lace that looked opaque in dim lighting and showed everythingâand I do mean everythingâin full light.
The only decision left was what body to go out in. I didn't like to do succubus work in my usual shapeâthe one that worked at Emerald City and slept with Seth. I wanted an anonymous face, one that could forget and be forgotten. Staring at my bathroom mirror, I considered a number of features and ethnicities. Finally, I opted for a pretty Latina look, sultry with long dark hair.
We went to the same club Bastien and I had danced at before. It played varying genres of music, but all of it was fast and heavy. It thrummed in the blood. Hugh immediately parked himself at the bar, looking exactly like the creepy guy who ogled younger women that he was. Peter seemed torn between joining him and hitting the floor. He was homebody enough to want to stay with Hugh, but I knew places like this were fertile hunting grounds for vampires and succubi alike. Reluctantly, the frumpy vampire bought a drink and then made his way to the dancers, looking hopelessly out of place. I knew he'd survive, though; he'd been doing what he did almost as long as I had.
I walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of Rumple Minze, which I downed immediately. It was funnyâpart of me thought that I could scorn Doug for getting mixed up with some drug when I turned so readily to alcohol to ease my own tension.
“Dance with me,” I told Cody, grabbing his hand.
He looked good tonight, wearing a button-up shirt untucked and loose. It had a neat printed pattern on it, one of those that only confident guys with real fashion sense could actually wear. With his agile dancing and golden blond looks, he made a good partner.
“What am I, your warm-up?” he asked me a few songs later.
I laughed. We were dancing awfully close, and I had been moving my body more provocatively than I normally would with a friend. Unconscious motion. My succubus hunger surfacing.
“Does it bother you?”
“Nope. Well, other than giving me that weird incest feeling Hugh was talking about. But I don't think you're going to get what you need off me.”
“True,” I said scanning the crowd. The place was packed with mortals, all warm and energetic and burning with life in a way my friends and I did not. Again, the itch of longing seized me. I wanted to touch them all and knew I'd have to break from Cody soon.
“What's got you all fired up anyway? We don't usually see you like this.”
That was true. Mostly he and the others just heard me bitching and moaning about my infernal job and how I hated seducing nice guys. “Need to burn off some Seth lust. That, and I got majorly run down today,” I explained, proceeding to tell him the rest.
Cody felt as sad as I did about Doug, whom he knew and liked. The young vampire agreed that Doug's erratic behavior sounded amphetamine based, and he threw out a few suggestions for me. I made a mental note to look them up later.
Cody and I finally split up, each to take care of our own business. I started working the room, much as I had the other night, only this time my motivation was legitimate. I had my pick of partners and no end of free drinks. Each time I got someone to buy me one, Hughâstill at the barâwould shake his head with wry amusement.
In about two hours, I had my mark. He was young and muscular, made extra gorgeous by sexy Mediterranean features. Italian descent, I suspected. He was also sweet and shy, clearly astonished that I kept dancing with him. His friends, watching from afar, apparently felt the same way.
We had moved to a crowded part of the dance floor, jampacked with other sweating, frenzied bodies. I rubbed mine against his in a more intimate way than the crowd quite required, my hands sliding over his body as we swayed. When our lips brushed against each other's, he pulled back.
He told me thenâawkwardly and reluctantlyâthat he had a girlfriend. That didn't come as a surprise to me. We stopped dancing, getting jostled by the crowd, and I feigned modest embarrassment for my boldness while pretending not to notice how he hadn't seemed to want to make the girlfriend admission.
“Er, wait,” he said as I started to turn and leave. Hesitation hung heavy in his voice. The voice of someone trying to rationalize something he knew he shouldn't be doing . . . but wanted to anyway. True consternation churned on his face. “I mean, we can still . . . we can still . . . keep dancing. Can't we?”
Five dances later, I'd sweet-talkedâand bribedâone of the waiters into letting us into a storage room in the club's basement. It was dark and small and filled with extra tables, but it sufficed for what we needed. I could still hear the music from above, though none of the song's specifics. The whole building vibrated with the beat. My guy still appeared nervous, but alcohol and opportunity were clearly winning out over his better judgment. I didn't tell him my name. I didn't ask for his.
I pulled him to me, and we kissedâthe kind of hard, furious kissing that makes your lips feel swollen afterward. His hands started on my hips and then moved upward, peeling the lace shirt up as they went, exposing my breasts. His hands fondled them wonderingly, feeling their shape and size, making my nipples harden and stand out. He leaned down and put his lips to one, sucking hard. When I felt his teeth bite gently, I grunted in approval and shifted my hands down to loosen his belt.
He straightened back up, and this time I was the one who went downâliterally. On my knees, I tugged on his boxers and released the erection that had been straining at the fabric.
I ran my tongue along its tip, tasting the few salty drops that had already seeped out. Then, without further hesitation, I took the whole thing into my mouth, letting my tongue roll over it as my lips moved back and forth along the length of the shaft. He groaned and laced his fingers across the back of my neck, trying to push more of him inside. The first tendrils of his energy began flowing into me, sweet and delicious. He was a good one, full of strength. I sucked harder, teasing him for a couple more minutes, then broke away and stood up. The look on his face when I stopped became almost comically desperate. Like he couldn't believe I had just done that to him. Like I had just gone and hit his shins with a baseball bat.
I licked my lips and smiled. “You want more? You're going to have to come and get it.”
This was the clincher. If I was going to go to the trouble of bagging a guy with a strong life force, I might as well hit my quota with Jerome and do some corrupting as well. A guy with a serious girlfriend might feel guilty about fooling around with another woman, but he'd feel guiltier still if he was the one who took serious steps toward initiating it. It was too easy to say
she made me do it.
My part was done; he had to take over now.
This guy might not have realized my ulterior motives here, but he seemed to sense the gravity of the situation. He stood on the edge now, the edge of a decision that could affect his eternal soul. Did he or didn't he? Did he give in to his lust and betray a woman he cared about? Did he take a chance with me he might never get again? Or did he reject me and walk away? Did he stay faithful?
My smile grew, slow and languid, as he debated. I paced around the room like I had all the time in the world, like I didn't care what he decided to do. The click of my heels sounded loudly on the hard floor. I turned away from him, trying to make out some old framed picture on the wall. It was mostly a dark blur in the dim lighting.
Then, I felt him behind me. His hands slid from my waist down to my hips, then lower to cradle my ass. He pushed up what little of the skirt there was and pulled down the strappy black thong I had underneath. Slowly, his hands traced every curve, feeling and exploring. One hand moved around the outside of my leg toward the front, between my thighs. The movement forced him to move closer to me, and I could feel himâstill hard, still readyâpress against my flesh.
The exploring hand pushed farther between my thighs, and his breath was hard and hot on my neck. His fingers brushed the small, neatly trimmed patch of hair between my legs, then moved lower, dancing at the edges of my lips, teasing them. A small, urgent moan left my mouth, and I ground against him, hoping to get a response.
He slid his fingers in a smooth rhythm, stoking my already raging desire. A minute later, those urgent fingers moved into me, probing and exploring. I was wet and slippery, but it still caught me by surprise, and I exclaimed loudly. He wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me even closer, and continued driving those fingers in and out. His life poured into me again. A purely physical burning welled inside of me too, growing stronger each time he moved in. But before that feeling could reach completion, he pulled his fingers out and left them out. My turn to feel unfulfilled. Gripping my shoulders, he turned me around, and I braced myself to be shoved on top of the table or up against the wall.
To my astonishment, he pushed me onto my knees instead, his breathing frantic now, his eyes burning with hunger and lust. “Your mouth,” he gasped out. “I want your mouth again.”