Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.) (20 page)

“Holy shit.” My instincts betrayed me when I fell off the bed and
landed on my side.

Fuck, that hurt.

“Sorry about that,” the voice said again. Ethan's face appeared in
my vision and I glared.

“You couldn't knock or anything?” I grumbled, slowly pushing myself
up into a sitting position.

I remembered what I was wearing and scrambled to pull the long shirt
down as much as I could.

“Well, I thought I would just pop in. No demon knocks, we find it to
be very unnatural,” he said.

“Oh yeah, and just randomly appearing in my room is natural.” I
rubbed the bottom of my back, trying to avoid any delayed pain—like a broken
tail bone or a bruise.

Ethan walked around the side of my bed and looked at the photos on
the wall. “Who is this guy? You were looking at a photo of him. Is he a
boyfriend?”

I wish.

“No,” I said, “but you would know that.”

All he did was nod, knowing full well that he would know of any
relationships. Maybe that’s why he was here, to continue questioning me on whom
I knew. I decided to turn the cards around and asked, “Why are you here?”

“I'm here on business,” he murmured, moving his attention to my
room.

Does he not understand law of privacy?

“I already told you I don't have any information for you to go and
catch this demon that you have running around so, please, if you would use the
door this time? It is nearly one in the morning.” I motioned to the door,
hoping he would just accept my invitation in leaving.

“Oh no.” He moved his hands behind his back and linked his fingers.
It was like an old fashioned move that people do when they're trying to act all
serious and shit. I watch movies. I know how these things work. Next thing you
know, he's going to ask me to cut a deal with him, and I'll turn into a major
drug lord—okay, maybe not that far, but being a drug lord might actually be fun.
I'll have to consider it one day.

“I'm actually here because I have a new lead on the demon,” he said.

I waited for him to continue but when he didn’t I said, “And you're
telling me this instead of going to go get her, why?”

“Because I've been sent to retrieve you,” he said. He looked down at
a packet of cigarettes on my dresser but soon lost interest and finally looked
to me.

He was sent to retrieve me?

“No, I'm pretty happy here.” I wasn’t really in the mood to go
anywhere right now, and if Daniel and Melinda found out I was gone, then Hell
would be loose on Earth.

“Are you sure about that, Ms Simmons?” Ethan walked up and his brow
arched.

I didn't like how he greeted me by last name. I would’ve preferred
he stuck to ‘succubus’. “Positive, Mr I don’t know your last name, or if Ethan
is your real name.”

“What could my name be then?” he asked.

“How the fuck would I know?” I said, “I'm not your parents.”

“You have an attitude on you, succubus.” That was better. His lips
pulled up to one side. He was amused. “But I think you'll reconsider on coming
on this trip.”

Traveling to Hell isn’t my definition of a ‘trip’. I placed my hands
on my slim hips and stood straighter. “And why is that?”

His face moved closer until there was a mere inch of space between
us. I could actually smell the musky scent that he had, mixed with mint. Weird
combination. “Because our demon is in
Hawaii
, and she has your friend. What was his name again? Oh... Tristan.”
He pointed to the wall of photos and I didn’t need to look to know he was pointing
at the many photos of Tristan up there.

I felt my face fall, and my body went into auto-pilot along with my
mind and anger. “You're fucking kidding me. Tori’s a succubus?”

And to think, being a succubus was
my
thing.

“You want to tell me how the hell Tori is a demon and I had no clue
about it until now?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

I was standing in the middle of what the SIA called 'The Meeting
Room'. It wasn't very welcoming considering it was in the underworld, made of
concrete, and the only source of light was from the trail of fire flicking at
the bottom of the walls. This was only the prettiest thing of the
underworld—not scary—but if you walked out of this room, you won't be thinking
it was pretty anymore. You'd be greeted with a lot of things people expected to
see in Hell.

That's right. I was practically in the lobby of The Hell Hotel.

I'd been here once before, and that was when I first became
registered under the SIA.

My parents were gone—as always—I didn't really care where they went
as long as they were gone long enough for me to go through their alcohol
cabinet.

“Happy Birthday to me.” I held up the bottle of tequila and drank
three mouthfuls on the spot.

18 years of this crap life, Maya. You did yourself well.

I walked up the stairs of the house and into my sorry excuse for a
bedroom. A single bed sat in the corner, a dresser sat in the other, and that
was basically it. It had nothing on the walls, nothing to show that this was my
room, just… nothing symbolizing me at all.

Due to the fact that I was considered a minor before today, my
parent's hadn't kicked me out of the house. I guess I can see where they were
coming from though. I was a misfit. I took drugs on a regular basis, never came
home at an appropriate time or state, and I practically lost my virginity young
enough that I should be on Teen Mom—fortunately, I hadn't been given the
responsibility of a baby. Thank God.

I can just see what's going to happen when they return. Out the door
I go. Just like my sister, except she had a backup plan following her little
rock star boyfriend. Never hear from her. Probably never will.

“I have such a great life,” I said sarcastically, “cheers to that.”
I held the bottle up again to any imaginary people that were in my room. I
brushed my lips against the tip and turned to my dresser, only to stop.

There sitting all nicely on my empty desk was a white envelope. I
looked around my room, not knowing what I was looking for—maybe an explanation
for why there was an envelope on my desk. There was nothing out of the ordinary
about anything and I walked slowly towards the letter. I was just waiting for
this thing to jump and attack me.

'Maya' was written in cursive ink and I picked the letter up after
waiting a few seconds. It was slim and had an old texture about it. On the
back, it was sealed with orange wax with the letters “SIA” imprinted.

I opened the envelope curiously and picked out a piece of paper that
had the same texture. “Well these people must have old fashioned taste,” I
murmured.

This letter seemed important to just randomly pop onto my desk, but
even I wasn't expecting what was waiting for me, written in the same cursive
writing as my name on the envelope.

I didn’t know how much paper like this cost, or if they even sold it
anymore, but the tree that would’ve been the source for this was about to be
double murdered. “Is this some kind of joke?” I looked on the back of the
paper, expecting to see 'April Fools Bitch, even if it is August'.

“Far from it.”

The voice sent chills down my spine, and before I could spin around
there was a hand over my mouth and my vision went black. I hadn't lost my
conscious. I was very much alive, but it was like I was blind.

Ice covered my skin momentarily and I was sure at some point I was
numb.

It only lasted a couple of seconds and then my vision returned. But
I wasn't in my room anymore, and the bottle of tequila wasn't in my hand.

My heart pace picked up and when I finally regained all of my
vision, I pushed away from the hand and turned to my intruder. He was a
male—not young, but not old either, maybe in his early thirties—no hair sat on
his head, dark eyes looked blank as they looked to me, and his attire consisted
of all-black from head to toe.

I backed away from him and his eyes watched every step I made. I
froze when a wall stopped me from going any further and I flattened my hand
over it, realizing how hard and cold it was.

When I finally moved my eyes from the male in front of me, I realized
the room I was in. But it wasn't really a room—it was more of a chamber.
Concrete was everywhere. No sign of anything like plaster, or wall paper—just
concrete and a few torches that hung off the wall.

Did I drink too much and coma out?

“Where the hell am I?” I asked.

The male didn't answer me. Instead he just stood there, where he
hadn't moved a single inch. His hands were laced in front of him, an
emotionless face looked at me, and no information seemed to be available.

I tried a different tactic. “Who are you?”

Still no answer.

I pushed myself further into the wall and if I had the option of
going inside the wall, I would totally do that right now.

“Hello,” I said, getting annoyed, “do you talk?” This guy was
seriously starting to freak me out.

Out of the blue, the bottoms of the walls started flaming up and I
moved away before I became roast.

“Maya Simmons.” I turned around and behind the male—who had totally
kidnapped me—stood a woman. Black hair curled all the way down her back, an
olive skin tone contrasted nicely against eyes that were just as dark as the
male. An elegant black dress flowed over her slim figure, and a cloud of black
smoke hung around her feet.

Oh, God. I drank myself all the way to hell.

“Not quite.” Shit, did I just say that out loud? “But you're close
enough.”

I kept a good distance from her and the male—all while making sure I
didn't catch on fire. “Who are you? Where am I?”

She held her arms out, motioning around the room. “This is The
Meeting Room, of the SIA. My name is Rosa Marina.”

Why did I find that name familiar? And those letters?
Oh!
“You're the one who sent this!” I held the letter up, just now wondering how I
managed to keep a hold of it and not the tequila. “Are you fucking kidding me?
Is this some sort of joke?”

“Look around you, Maya. Does this look like some kind of joke?”

I didn't bother looking around. I knew what I was going to see.

I'm dead. I'm definitely dead.

I looked at the letter again and re-read what it said. My hands
shook and my eyes found it hard to focus on every single word on the paper. I
must be dead. “I don't even know what the hell a succubus is,” I finally said.

“Google is your friend, Maya.” Did she really just say that? “Then
again, 70 percent of the results are not entirely true, but you will get the
gist of it. Now, off you go.” She waved her hands. “I have another incubus
coming in soon.”

What? She's sending me away already? I just got here. “What was the
point in bringing me here if you're only going to send me away again?” I really
don't know why I'm saying this. Going home would be ideal right now.

“The point in bringing you here was so you understood that this is
not a joke. Now, off you go. Goodbye.”

I couldn't say anything before my vision went blank again and I was
back in my room. The tequila bottle was lying on its side, half the contents
spilt over the hard wooded floor.

I stood in the middle of my room, trying to regain my thoughts to
understand what the fuck just happened. I re-read the letter a thousand times,
and I even Googled 'succubus'.

I picked up the neglected bottle of tequila and frowned at the
quarter that remained.

“I'm going to need more alcohol.” Like a whole store fill.

Time to see if my parents have any stronger shit.

I think I can safely say that I took it pretty well for a newbie.

I never thought I’d be back in the presence of Rosa Marina—who was
standing a few feet away. More than six people stood behind her, all dressed in
black, all expressionless and still as the next. She had gained a few more
agents in the past two years.

Oh, and there was the bald guy that kidnapped me.

Jerk.

“Well?” I asked, waiting for my answer. I really should’ve changed
what I was wearing before I came here though. An over-sized shirt wasn’t
exactly attire you wore to The Meeting Room.

I hadn't obviously forgotten the fact that Tori was a succubus, and
not once had I even let the fact that they've had sex slip my mind. But a human
shouldn't remember being with a succubus, so Tristan was lying.

Question was: why would he lie to me?