Doug, as I soon discovered, certainly wasn't going to provide any help in the matter.
“You've got something,” I teased later when he and I ran into each other in the fantasy books. I gave him the lethal smile.
He returned it. “Magnetism? Sex appeal? Intelligence? Babe, I've got it all.”
I stepped forward and pulled playfully on his shirt, looking up into his face. “That's not what I mean. You've got something good, something you aren't sharing.”
He stayed close to me and tugged on a lock of my hair in return. “Don't know what you're talking about.”
“The hell you don't. Do you know how many hours I've been working for you and Paige lately? Good lord. It's driving me crazy. Grey Goose only goes so far. If you've got some stash, you need to spread the love.”
“Hey, I'll spread as much love as you want. Name the time and place.”
“I thought we were friends.” I pushed lightly on his chest and stepped back with a pout. “You're holding out on me. No way could you have perked up so quickly. Not after how you were this morning. You took something.”
“Bah, mood swing. You're a woman; you understand. Just woke up grumpy, that's all. A little falafel and some Kincaid charm, and now I'm good to go. Great even.” He took a step back toward me, apparently hoping I'd renew the flirtation. Heat burned in his eyes, something a little darker and more intense than our typical bantering called for. “In fact, I'm downright unstoppable now. A god, babe. Come on back to the office, and I'll show you.”
I walked away, giving him a taunting look over my shoulder, still playing it light. “Not my religion, babe.”
He laughed as I left him. We'd been flirting for years, and I knew he'd probably take no offense at my teasing or baiting. I, on the other hand, was pissed. Bad enough this shit of Alec's could push Doug into over-the-top exuberance and inappropriate behavior at work. Dragging him into the pits of despair, however, was an entirely different matter. I was going to find out what was going on and put an end to itâeven if it meant cozying up to that sleaze, Alec.
Remembering one of the other complications in my life right now, I called Bastien later that night for a status check.
“Don't even ask, Fleur. The clouds of failure are gathering.”
“What the hell is it with you depressed guys today? Why do I have to be everyone's goddamned cheering-up committee?”
I ordered him to drive to Queen Anne immediately. When he arrived, he was still whining. “Dana's being really nice to me,” he conceded, “but nothing intimate. She can't ever come over alone either. She's always got Jody with her or some other CPFV freak. My odds are probably better at getting her sidekicks into bed as a group than ever nailing her. They're all trying to get me to join their cult. I suppose making the gesture can't hurt, but I think I'll see more of her if I pretend to be a hesitant convert. You know, she also asks about you a lot.”
“Like what?”
“Random stuff. Last time she wanted to know how the clothes you bought were working out. What's that about?”
“Not a clue,” I lied.
It was ironic, really, because just then Bastien noticed the Victoria's Secret bag still sitting on my counter. My privacy apparently not a concern, he emptied it out and looked through the lingerie with approval.
“You want to try something on?” I asked wryly, noting his scrutiny.
“You always did have good taste.” He held up the black mesh bra and peered at me through it, as though imagining how it would look on. “Although I still don't know why you buy this stuff. Just shape-shift it.”
“I have a respect for âintellectual property.' Whoever designed this deserves their pay.”
“Even if it was constructed by third-world labor?”
I made a face. “Come on, let's get out of here.”
“Where to?”
“A piano bar.”
Surprise put his malaise on hold. “Are those still around?”
“Yup. There're actually a couple of them in Seattle.”
In fact, one was even nearby, less than a fifteen-minute walk away. As we went, however, Bastien wouldn't stop worrying about the Dana thing. It drove me crazy. I hated her too, believe me, but I couldn't figure out what was making this such a maniacal obsession for him.
Fortunately, the piano bar was just wacky enough to distract himâas I'd hoped it would be. We ate yummy bar food and drank froofy drinks like Midori martinis and Sex on the Beach. Meanwhile, dueling pianists sang everything from Eminem to Barry Manilow. As the evening passed, getting a request played cost more and more money. However, the patrons grew drunker and drunker, so they didn't mind putting the cash down.
Knowing this in advance, I had brought a stack of bills, and Bastien and I took great amusement in seeing just how well the piano players could keep up with our increasingly older and more obscure requests. Bastien and I sang along beautifully. Shape-shifting, in addition to so many other benefits, could modify one's voice and vocal cords. The piano players had an astounding knowledge of our requests, and we were so impressedâand drunkâby the end of the night that we gave them a hefty tip.
Before we could leave, however, Bastien made me wait to hear one more request. “I slapped a fifty down with it,” he said. “They've got to play it soon. I picked it just for you.”
“If it's âSuperfreak,' I walk,” I warned.
He laughed. “You'll know it when you hear it. It reminded me of you and your writer.”
Sure enough, I immediately knew which song his silly sense of humor had led him to. The smile cracking his face was sort of a giveaway too. Pulling half of me onto his lap, he sang along loudly with Fiona Apple's lyrics:
“I've been a bad, bad girl
I've been careless
With a delicate man
And it's a sad, sad world
When a girl will break a boy
Just because she can.”
“You're truly a creature of hell,” I told him, trying to wiggle away. “You know that, don't you?”
“I just tell it like it is.” He held onto me and kept singing.
“Heaven help me
For the way I am
Save me from
These evil deeds
Before I get them done . . .”
When we finally left the bar, both of us laughing and humming, we passed a group of girls even more drunk than us. A few of them gave Bastien open looks of invitation, and I glanced at him expectantly. He shook his head.
“Too easy. Besides, I'd rather go home with you. So to speak.”
He walked me back toward my apartment, holding my arm as he had once done when social mores dictated it for anyone of good breeding. The pavement was slick from earlier rain, and a moist chill hung in the air. Not far away, the Space Needle gleamed watchfully above the nearby buildings; it would have Christmas lights on it soon. Bastien tightened his hold on my arm and turned his gaze absentmindedly toward the cloudy sky for a while before looking over at me.
“Fleur, do you want to know why I'm so gung-ho about this Dana business?”
I willed myself to sober up, suspecting something big was about to come. “You mean other than your righteous fury at her?”
He smiled gently and looked down at the pavement, watching our feet. “I'm in trouble. Big trouble.” He sighed. “You ever heard of a demon named Barton?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Maybe. He works in Chicago. Very high up. Very powerful. He's one of those who expects âfavors' from his staff.”
I nodded in understanding. It was one of the occupational hazards succubi and incubi faced, and probably something else Seth would be happier not knowing about. As workers in the sex industry, so to speak, our demonic supervisors often thought we wouldn't mind one more “customer.” Many saw it as our duty. Whatever his other failings, Jerome at least had never demanded anything of that nature from me.
“So . . . anyway, Barton has this succubus named Alessandra. Relatively new. You know, a century or so. Beautiful. She has as good an eye for exquisite physical detail as you. And she's bright. Wicked sense of humor. Outgoing.”
I stared at him in astonishment. “Are you in love, Bastien?”
“No, but I wasâamâvery attracted to her. Hard not to be. We got to know each other, and well, one thing sort of led to another . . .”
“As it often does with you.”
“Yes,” he admitted ruefully. “But let me tell you, it was amazing. That woman . . . wow.”
“So how are you in trouble?”
“Well, the thing is, Barton's kind of possessive about his people. He expected Alessandra's body to be exclusively for his useâmortal business aside, of course.”
“And he found out?”
“Yes. He turned unbelievably jealous.” Contempt filled Bastien's voice. “Stupid emotion for our kind. Of course, demon or no, I suppose he might have had reason to feel insecure knowing his girlfriend had been with a sex-master like myself. I mean, once you go Bastien . . .”
“Keep telling the story, ego-master. What happened?”
“Well . . . to say he was pissed off would be an understatement. Honestly, I don't think I'd be enjoying your lovely company today if Janelle hadn't done some serious intervening.” Janelle was Bastien's archdemoness in Detroit. “But mostly she just protected me from physical torture. Everything else is a mess. My career is in shambles. Barton has powerful friends, and Janelle's made it clear she's not going to cover my ass anymore.”
We had reached my building and stood outside it now. He ran a hand through his dark curls, face suddenly weary. “I'm on everyone's shit list all of a sudden. Plans are already in motion to transfer me somewhere else, and I know it's going to be horrific. Like Guam. Or Omaha. That's why I need this Dana thing. A big hit like thisâa public humiliation for the other side. It'll put me on top again. They won't be able to punish me, not if I've got a takedown like that on my record.”
I started to understand his obsession with the radio host. “But the takedown isn't exactly taking.”
“I don't know what else to do. I've tried all the old tricks, all the textbook moves plus a few exclusive Bastien moves. None of it's working.”
I reached out to him. “You might have to accept that she's got a strong will, Bas. It happens.”
“I know.” He sounded so miserable, it broke my heart.
“Hey, come on. Don't give up the fight yet. I taught you everything you know, remember? We'll find a way out of this. We'll get that wench wet yet.”
He laughed and brushed a finger against my cheek. “You always make me feel better when I'm around you, you know that? It's one of the wonderful things about you. That andâif the rumors are trueâyour mouth.”
“The rumors are true, and I'm going to help you with this, you'll see. Besides, nothing else works on her, there's always hard liquor, right?”
“Ah yes, the old standby.” He hugged me tightly and kissed each cheek. “Good night, my sweet. Thanks for a lovely evening.”
I kissed him back. “Anytime.”
I had my hand on the door handle when I thought of something.
“Hey, Bastien?”
He turned from where he'd been walking away down the sidewalk. “Yes?”
“Why'd you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Alessandra. You must have known how Barton felt about her, right?”
“I did.”
“So why risk it?”
He looked at me like he could scarcely believe I had to ask. “Because I could. Because she was beautiful and wonderful and I wanted her.”
I knew better than to argue with that. It was textbook incubus logic. Smiling, I went inside.
Chapter 13
M
in, Doug's saxophonist, rummaged through the array of liquor bottles on Wyatt's counter. “I don't think he has any,” he finally said. “Can you make a gimlet without lime juice?”
“Um, no,” I replied. “That kind of defeats the whole purpose.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, then, you just want a shot or something?” He held up a bottle ofâGod help meâSkyy vodka.
“I think I'll pass.” I surveyed the humming, thumping party around me. Tons of people had showed up as usual; I doubted the band even knew half of them. The wages of fame, I guessed. Also as usual, there were drugs and drinks aplenty for those who wanted such thingsâas long as one's vices didn't stray to lime juice, apparently. I turned back to Min. “You seen Alec tonight?”
“Nope. Said he'd be here. I hope he shows soon.”
Min shifted restlessly, and I wondered just how many people Alec was stringing along. The whole band, after all, had displayed that crazy, uncaring behavior.
I'd spent most of the day planning for tonight, trying to figure out what it would take to get information and possibly the drug itself from Alec. Finally, as the party drew nearer, I accepted that I was overthinking the matter. Alec was hardly a criminal mastermind. If I wanted something from him, it was a safe bet that the removal of clothing and an orifice would suffice.
With that in mind, I'd dressed for the part in another little dress. Like the one I'd worn to the last concert, this too had a V-neck, straps, and short skirt. Unlike that oneâwhich had been cotton and more like a sundressâthis one was silk and looked kind of like a nightgown. Its rich, emerald green mirrored the green flecks in my eyes. I'd made sure of that, enhancing the color in both.
“Finally,” I muttered to myself, catching sight of Alec's blue-streaked hair across the crowd. He saw me, and I waved, making him grin smugly at my acknowledgment.
“Hey,” he said, looking me over. “Wow.”
“About time you showed,” berated Min, handing over a beer. They greeted each other with some kind of weird, shoulder-punching guy thing. Then Min held up a bottle of Tropical Soiree Key Lime Schnapps. “Hey, look what I found. Will this work?”
“Sure. Whatever,” I said. I wanted to start working Alec, putting him at ease. If it involved some unholy drink concoction, then I'd have to take that risk.
Min handed me a plastic cup filled with bright green liquid, and Alec and I wandered off to mingle.
“You're letting Min experiment on you?” he asked, pointing at the cup.
Inspiration hit. “He's been experimenting on me all night.” I laughed, a bit too loudly and held on to his arm. Alec didn't need to know this was my first drink. “But none of the other stuff he made looked this bad.”
He smiled and casually placed his arm around my waist. “Have I told you how great you look?”
“Yeah, I kind of got the message,” I told him. Sniffing the cup, I detected nothing but sugar. Tentatively, I brought the cup to my lips and tasted. Bleh. It was like Kool-Aid and mouthwash. Fortunately, I don't have much of a gag reflex, so I managed to swallow without choking.
Alec flattered me a little more, and then I steered him toward the one topic guaranteed to captivate him: himself. It worked. Within a few minutes, I discovered that subject area was even more limited than I'd suspected. He only wanted to talk about the band.
“So yeah, we figure we should start expanding out of Seattle and hit some of the other big cities in the area. You know, like Portland and Vancouver. If we can start getting a following in the Northwest, we can hit the rest of the west coast, you know? And Corey's dad knows this guy who knows someone at a record company, and he's going to send him the review that was in the
Seattle Times
. . .”
I let him go on, nodding my head and saying “uh-huh” a lot. I should point out that I really was interested in Nocturnal Admission's success. I believed in them and their talent. Just not tonight. Other things demanded my attention.
“You know,” he suddenly said out of nowhere, “I didn't think you really liked me.”
Yeah. Good observation.
I smiled. “Sorry about that. There are so many jerks out there that I come off a little bitchy at first, until I know a guy. But the rest of the band swears by you, and I trust them. Besides”âI leaned closer, lowering my voice to a sultry purrâ“I know you now, and I definitely like you now.”
To my astonishment, Alec broke away from me. How unexpected was that? Weirder still was that I saw interest in his eyes but
only
his eyes. The rest of him was plainly distressed about something. My surprise must have been reflected in my expression, because a moment later, he laughed like nothing had happened and returned the hand to my waist.
“I wouldn't really trust the guys on much, but hey, if they've convinced you, whatever.”
I turned the smile back on, pretending I hadn't noticed the weird reaction. We started talking again, and I continued to let him dictate the parameters of our conversation. When he brought up skateboarding and the benefits of one board brand over another, I decided Doug didn't appreciate the extent of my love for him.
Slightly bored, I leaned into Alec and drank from the cup without thinking about it. “Son of a bitch!” I swore, tasting that mess again.
“What?”
“This.” I set the cup down on a rickety coffee table, sloshing the green liquid. “It's terrible.” I realized this was my opening. “God, I've had such a fucked-up week.” I turned so that I stood even closer, resting a hand on his back, sliding it down to his waist. “I'm glad you had this party. You guys must need to get a little crazy too to handle all the stuff you've been doing.”
He seemed happy about my proximity but didn't move his hand from my waist. “We know when to work, and we know when to play.” He spoke with a ridiculous swagger, again attempting to project a wisdom he was too young to have.
I grinned at him. “I like to play too.”
Like before, the look in his eyes said he did want to playâespecially if we played doctor. But his body language didn't match it. He was holding himself back for some reason, which didn't fit with my image of him as a womanizing drug lord.
But he kept smiling, even if the rest of him was stiff. “How do you like to play?”
“Not with that.” I pointed at the jettisoned cup and looked back up at him with doe eyes, both innocent and provocative. I tried to recall the stupid expression he'd used at the first party. “You maybe got anything . . . harder?”
A pleased andâunless I was mistakenârelieved smile danced on his face. “Maybe I do.”
I punched him lightly, then snaked my arm around his neck. “I know you do. I saw you give it to Doug. You guys are in on something good, and you won't share. Whereas me . . . well, I always share . . .”
He still didn't take the physical bait or go for my over-the-top vixen lines, but the rest had piqued his interest. “I've got something,” he said, glancing around carefully. “Let's go talk in the bedroom.”
Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. I followed him back to Wyatt's small messy bedroom which miraculously wasn't occupied yet. I sat on the unmade bed, crossing my legs, keeping my body language as open and relaxed as possible.
“Are we going to play now?”
He answered with a question of his own: “You sure you can handle the hard stuff?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Baby, I can take it as hard as you can give it.”
Reaching into his coat pocket, he sat down on the bed beside me and held up a tiny plastic bag, much smaller than the bag Reese kept his pot in. In the poor lighting, I could discern tiny glittering crystals. Almost like red sugar.
“This,” he said in a low voice, “is what you've been waiting for your whole life. This is the stuff that's going to change your world. Make you who you were born to be.”
I was rendered speechless, but not from his melodramatic prologue. It was the crystals. This close to them, I . . . well, felt them. They had an aura, almost the same way an immortal has a signature. Only this wasn't exactly a pleasant aura. The crystals felt strange to me. They sent little shockwaves into the air. They made my skin crawl.
And weirdest of all, I'd felt them before. Once with Doug, once with the band.
I hoped Alec would interpret my frown as cute confusion. “What is that?”
A sly smile spread over his face. “A magic potion, Georgina.”
I smiled back, not having to feign puzzlement. “I don't believe in magic.”
“Oh, you will after this.” He pressed the bag into my palm, and I squelched a sharp cry. I didn't like touching the crystals. “Go grab something to drink and put them in it. Mix it all up and then drinkâpreferably as fast as you can. You'll get the effects sooner.”
“What'll they do?”
“Something good. Something you'll like.” He ran his hand through the strands of my hair. “Man, I can't wait to see how you react to them.”
How I reacted? I didn't like the sound of that. Maybe I wasn't getting the same thing as Doug after all. Maybe I was getting the date-rape drug. Of course, with as inviting as I was trying to be, he had to realize those kinds of extremes weren't necessary. I pushed the unease out of my head. “What do I owe you for these?”
The smoke in my voice clearly told him how I'd like him to extract payment.
“Nothing. It's a gift.”
“Nothing?” I trailed my hand across his leg. Believe me, I really didn't want to sleep with this guy, but I wanted to stay in his good graces to figure out what the hell this stuff was. And yeah, okay, I sort of wanted to see him suffer from the energy loss. “Are you sure?”
I slid my body closer to his, gently pushing him back on the bed. His eyes widened as I lay down next to him, brushing my lips over his neck. Turning his face toward mine, I moved my lips closer to his, lightly kissing the area just by his mouth.
“Are you really sure?” I asked, voice lower.
His breathing grew heavy, and he stroked my side, tracing the shape of my hip and moving down to my bare leg. Looking half-terrified, he moistened his lips in anticipation. My tongue snaked up to them, dancing around their edges before gently probing inside. He stifled a moan and then pushed me aside.
“No . . . I . . . no. No.” He sat up, shaking. “Not yet.”
I sat up as well, moving in one fluid and graceful motion. Tossing my hair over one shoulder, I gave him a languid smile. “Come on, I want to.”
“I can't . . . but maybe, well maybe later we can work something out.”
Both longing and reluctance showed in his expression, which I found relieving. Nice to know my charms were still working and he wasn't all business after all. Maybe this was just a first-one's-free type of deal, and he'd be more thorough in his demands later. Fine by me. It wasn't the end of the world if I didn't sleep with him, and hopefully we wouldn't even need the second batch.
“Here.” Having seized control of himself, Alec held out his beer to me.
“Huh?”
“Go ahead and try them. You can mix them in this.”
I looked down at the sparkling red granules. They almost had a light of their own. That weird sensation pulsed out at me, grating my immortal senses. No way was I going to ingest the contents of this bag. I shook my head.
“I can't right now. I've got to go to another party. I promised a friend. I'll try them later, okay?”
He didn't look happy about that. “I wanted you to try it now.”
“What's wrong with later?”
“Nothing I guess . . . just, look, don't let anyone else know, okay? I don't have a lot of this stuff. If word gets out, everyone'll want some. Right now I'm only letting special people try it.”
“Am I special?” I teased.
Alec gave me a long, searching look, blatantly studying my face and the way the silk fit me. Again, the appreciation and attraction shone in his eyes, but he held himself back from my smile of invitation. “Very special.”
I managed to extract myself from the party shortly thereafter but not before Alec had warned me again to keep the crystals to myself. He also urged me to let him know how I liked them.
“The second dose is even better,” he promised.
Finally escaping, I breathed a sigh of relief, alone in the cool night air. As I walked to my car, I shoved the crystals into my purse, still creeped out by how they felt. They were supernatural; that much was obvious. I knew I had to get them to someone who could identify them. That, however, would have to wait a little longer since I was already past when I'd said I'd call Seth. Happily, I discovered I could no longer sense the packet once it was encased in the fabric. That was something, at least.