Soul Stripper (11 page)

“I’ll have a glass of pinot noir, please.”

I raised my eyebrows and he tilted his head in return with a smug smile. “Jesus drank wine. Lots of it.”

“All right, then. Two glasses of red coming up.”

While the bartender poured, I scanned the room, the black wig itching at the base of my neck. Then I saw her. She sat next to a tan, dark-haired man—her hand on his knee. She had her legs crossed, and her other arm was wrapped tightly around his neck like a boa constrictor locking in her prey.

“There they are.” I nudged Julian and gestured across the room.

He looked utterly repulsed by their display. “Charming,” he sneered, taking a sip of his freshly poured wine. “So now we just wait for them to split up for some reason. Then you go plant the seed in his mind about tonight’s party.”

There was something familiar about his wavy, dark hair. His Mediterranean skin tone. His eyebrows, so prominent they casted a shadow over his eyes—and it hit me. He was the guy I had seen at Hell’s Lair the other night. The night I met Erik. The night Wills came back to me. My head was spinning, and I took a large gulp of my wine, drinking half the glass in one swallow. He looked over in my direction, making eye contact with me for just a moment. My heart raced.

Julian’s face creased as he watched me. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, just fine,” I said, seething.
Had Adrienne sent him to the club to check up on me?

It took about twenty minutes—just long enough for Damien to finish his beer and for Adrienne to need to use the bathroom. “Okay,” I whispered to Julian, “you go wait by the bathroom and intercept her when she comes out. I’ll talk to Damien.”

Julian reluctantly skulked over to the bathroom as though I were his mother sending him to the corner for a time-out. I, on the other hand, put on as much charm as I possibly could sans any power. I saw Damien out of the corner of my eye waiting to place his drink order—he was very striking. Beautifully sculpted bone structure—the perfect rigid nose and square jaw. Not to mention a deep chin dimple (the kind that I’m an absolute sucker for). How in the Hell does Adrienne keep snagging such gorgeous men?

I leaned into him and knocked his empty pint glass with my elbow just enough to warrant an apology but not so much that it would fall over and break. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!” I brushed my fingertips over his forearm.

He angled his body toward me in an arrogant manner, breathed in deep, and let the air escape gently through his lips—it was almost as if he’d been waiting for me to make the first move this whole time. His arrogance made me almost gag. Either that or straddle him right here at the bar. “Hey, gorgeous. Think nothing of it. I saw you when you first came in—you’re hard not to notice. That your boyfriend with you?” His eyes flashed with a spark of humor.

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling the rush of his compliment. The very nature of being a succubus immediately warrants me to feel competitive with other women. I loved the fact that he noticed me even though he was with Adrienne. I shook the thought away—it was petty and I should be above that. I cleared my throat and spoke in the most husky voice I could manage. “Not
really
. We’re together . . . but we like to switch it up a lot. If you know what I mean.”

He raised an eyebrow and ran his hand along my waist to the outer edge of my thigh. I could feel the sweat gathering at the nape of my neck, threatening to drip down my back. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Maybe you and I should grab a drink tomorrow night, then.”

I looked up and saw Julian catching Adrienne as she exited the bathroom. She melted under his attention, and the two chatted as though they were old friends. If I didn’t know Julian better, I would have thought that he actually was flirting with her. As if there was some sort of angel-redeeming quality in that girl. The thought alone made me inwardly snort. I knew I had Damien for only another couple of minutes. I touched his chin dimple with my index finger and trailed my nail down his Adam’s apple, chest, and muscular abs until I reached the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I was thinking maybe tonight? Your girl could even come with . . .” I flashed my eyes toward Adrienne, still under Julian’s romantic spell. Whatever he was saying to her was definitely holding her attention. “We love to . . . swing.” I tugged at his waistband and let it snap back onto his stomach.

“So, like a swap party? We might be into something like that.” He glanced over his shoulder at Adrienne talking to Julian. “She certainly seems to be enjoying your
golden
boy over there.”

Something in the way he said
golden
struck a chord with me. Had he heard of me? Did he know my nickname? I searched his eyes for a hint of recognition as to what Julian and I were, but he simply stood there, eyes unbudging. I nodded. “Yes, Julian is—
very
gifted. As I’m sure
you
are, too.” I leaned in closer to Damien, so close that I could smell the musk of his aftershave. While I don’t condone cheating, I could see how this guy would be a temptation for any girl. It’s like being on a diet—if you’re going to cheat, it might as well be with gourmet ganache . . . not a candy bar you can buy at any gas station.

He groaned and squeezed my hip. “You’re hard for me to read. You walked in and I thought you looked like such a good girl—an angelic glow surrounded you. Now”—he leaned down, lips inches away—“you remind me of the devil. In disguise.” He tugged gently on my wig, just enough for it to slip slightly.

I gasped, straightening the wig before anyone could notice. Was the wig
so
obvious? It had been expensive and made from real hair.... It should have been hard to detect. Feeling a bit unsettled, I grabbed a pen, wrote the address on a napkin—making sure to omit the part about it being at a church—and handed it to him. “And, uh—when you arrive don’t be deterred by the unusual location. We’re just really kinky.”

He pocketed the address. “We’ll be there—both of us.” After throwing down some money and picking up his new pint, he leaned in close to my ear again. “By the way, your bag is clicking.” Then, with a small flick of his tongue, he licked my ear—just enough to make me melt.

 

“B
ut how could he even
hear
the clicking, Jules? I couldn’t hear it in the loud bar and I still have my strong succubus senses.”

Julian was staring out the window with one hand raked through his hair. “Okay, okay, calm down.” He dropped his hand into his lap. “Maybe he just has very good hearing for a mortal.”

“No.” I shook my head, keeping my hands on ten and two of the steering wheel, “He made mention of other things. He called you a ‘golden boy’ and he said that I was angelic before he realized I was a ‘demon in disguise.’ Then he tugged on my wig. . . . He
knows
something.”

Julian crinkled his nose without answering.

I hesitated a moment before continuing. “Julian—you haven’t been very talkative. I can’t sense immortals anymore, but
you
can. Is he immortal?”

“No,” he said curtly.

Julian doesn’t lie. But he doesn’t always tell the whole truth, either. “Okay . . . but you could sense something, right?”

“Yes.” It was just as curt an answer as before.

“Why won’t you tell me?” I threw one hand up, exasperated, keeping the other on the wheel.

“Because I can’t.”

I exhaled in a disbelieving way. “I thought you were here to help me.”

“I am.” He looked at me with sweet eyes. “I am here to help you find the truth about Adrienne and to protect you. That is all. I cannot interfere in any other area of your affairs.”

Affairs, nice.
“Jerk.”

“Okay, maybe that was a poor choice of words.”

“So you can’t tell me what Damien is?”

“No. You have to figure that out yourself.” There was a moment of silence that surrounded us like a thick fog. “May I make a suggestion, Monica?”

I grunted a response.

“I think you should let Drew figure out about Adrienne on his own.”

I snorted at that suggestion. “But he won’t. He’s too damn trusting.”

“You need to have faith in your friends. Drew is smart;
if
there’s anything to know, he would figure it out eventually.” There was another long pause. “Besides,” he said, “your efforts could be put to better use in finding the murderer who is currently looking to kill you.”

“Please, Julian. I have no powers. How could I possibly be of any use in that investigation?”

“You’d be surprised. They could use someone like you on the case.”

I wanted to roll my eyes but resisted the urge. My hands clenched around the steering wheel.

As if reading my thoughts, Julian continued. “Oh, the demons they’ve got investigating the case are good. Kayce and Lucien—even Lexi,” His jaw tightened with her name specifically. “But you must have some sort of link with the killer that you do not know. And if
you
do not know the link, then surely the rest aren’t going to know what it is. You’re an integral part of this investigation, whether you choose to admit it or not.” He rolled down his window and stuck his head out of it, blond hair blowing in the breeze as if he were a golden retriever. “Besides, I don’t think Mia and Lexi necessarily care about your life. They care about restoring order to Las Vegas. That’s their number one goal. And currently, Lexi is excited over the fact that if Lucien loses his position here, he might be brought into Mia’s offices to work as a minion.”

I pulled over to the side of the road. This was too much to digest while also focusing on driving. Putting the car in park, I turned to face Julian. “Well, why do
you
care? He’s not a good guy. He’s not on your side. What would it matter to you if Lucien goes off to the underworld as a file clerk?”

He sighed and his blond hair fell into his eyes. “Lucien takes care of you. And he loves you as much as he is capable of loving another. For all I care, he could be Saetan himself so long as he looked out for your best interest.”

The raw truth of words caught in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes for what felt like the millionth time today. “Shit,” I whispered.

Julian winced. “Monica, please. Shhh.” He put his thumb to my lips, and I lightly kissed it. He smelled like peppermint—fresh with a cool spice. It was a smell that up until now had been fading fast from my memory.

“I have received word from counsel. I am allowed to aide in keeping you safe. Not because it’s you,” he added, “but because there is a killer on the loose, terrorizing this sector.”

“Is Damien some sort of clue? What does he have to do with all of this?”

“Start driving, Monica. We’re going to be late.” He leaned across, grabbed my seat buckle, and clicked it in for me.

I still wasn’t quite convinced that I was the right person to find the murderer. Surely
someone
else was better equipped to find this being. The only powers I had were heightened senses. That certainly didn’t leave me with much confidence in myself. But I wasn’t left with many options. However, whatever choice I made, I ran the risk of dying—
and maybe being sent back to Heaven.
But then again, Julian might be wrong about my current mortal state. Mia could be right in assuming that I would cease to exist in death. I just couldn’t see Julian playing fast and loose with my life like that. And how the fuck did Adrienne’s lover factor into all of this?

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Julian said, curiosity flooding his ocean-deep eyes.

“Just thinking,” I stated while pulling into the church’s parking lot. It was a little before eight and I had told Damien to come around eight thirty. I hoped they wouldn’t be early. I needed to time to prepare myself.

I unbuckled my seat belt, then pulled on the handle of my door. Julian’s touch on my elbow stopped me from exiting. “Julian. It’s too late to back out now—I might as well see the plan through. Then I’ll figure out what to do about my . . . situation.”

He smiled at me, suppressing a chuckle. “That’s all great, Monica. I was just going to ask if you planned to keep the wig on for the rest of the night.”

Shit.
“Oh. No, of course not.” I slipped the black bob off my head, and a tangled mess of blond came falling past my shoulders. I sighed and tried to fix it with my fingers. It was relatively hopeless. “Damn,” I said, looking at my reflection in the rearview mirror.

“May I?” There was a glistening in his eyes—a longing for permission.

“Please. Do what you can.” I turned my head to him and his fingers twisted around my strands. It felt amazing—like the most delicate and beautiful scalp massage I’ve ever had. I moaned and leaned into his hands, tilting my head back. His touch is hard to explain; it’s firm, but there’s a beautiful tenderness to it. He tugged at my hair just enough that the pull tingled, but not so much to cause pain. It was . . . Heavenly—for lack of a better word.

Minutes passed and I leaned into his cool, hard body across the parking brake. He kissed my forehead, lips lingering with a cool, tingly sensation. “There.” He tilted my body up and out of his lap, where I had collapsed in a relaxed heap.

When I looked back into the mirror, my hair was gorgeous. Shiny, sparkling, as if I had shifted it myself, except it was glowing like it used to back when I was an angel. His kiss on my forehead glittered and shimmered in the moonlight. Only angels and ArchDemons would be able to see the mark. The thought warmed my insides. The blessing would last only for as long as I was mortal, but such a tender moment wasn’t going to slip from my memory anytime soon. “Thank you, Jules.”

“It won’t keep you safe from all danger,” he said, touching the kiss with his forefinger, “but I’ll know if you’re hurt.”

“Man, you angels are a tricky bunch,” I said through a smirk.

He smiled back at me. “
You
should know that better than any of these other demons.”

I stared at him in my passenger seat, sitting there so perfectly with beautiful golden hair that tumbled down to the middle of his neck. I realized how much I needed Julian. I needed him in my life whether I was succubus, angel, or mortal. I leaned across the car, unable to stop myself, and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my cheek next to his. I held him tightly in the embrace, and when I pulled away there was a moment’s hesitation as we sat there nose to nose. “What would happen,” I asked, “if a succubus kissed you right now?”

His breathing grew heavier and he cleared his throat. “You’re not a succubus.” I pressed my body slightly more into his chest. His skin was cool to the touch and felt amazing in contrast to Nevada’s balmy spring evening.

“Monica.” He spoke with his lips still only a breath away. “No. We can’t.” He firmly lifted me off of his body and back into the driver’s seat.

It was the second time in one day that I had been rejected by a man I loved. Okay, well, one was an
angel
—not a
man
. But still. This whole mortal thing was not all it was cracked up to be. “I’m sorry. I was just—”

“I know.” He cut me off. “It’s okay, Monica. It is your nature to seduce.”

My face flushed. “I miss you, Julian.”

“I know that, too.”

His voice was so stern and cold. I nodded, unable to say anything more. The tears were rising, welling up in the bottom of my eyes. I blinked them back, sitting there saying nothing more.

“Maybe I should wait here.” Julian’s gaze was fixed in a firm scowl.

“What?
No,
I need you in there with me, Jules. I can’t do this without you.”

He huffed a sigh, slumping his cheek into the palm of his hand.

“No, seriously, Jules.” I touched his hand, “I
physically
cannot go in there without your help.” I gestured to the church, knowing that even though most of my succubus powers were gone, entering a church might be painful. Having an angel by my side would surely negate any demon burn.

He said nothing and just sat there staring out the window. After a minute, he gave my hand a tight squeeze. “Ready to go?”

 

We walked in together, linked arm in arm. I looked at him to my left, and his presence was an immediate comfort. He was rigid, standing stick straight as though he had a rod shoved up his—well, you know. Our almost-kiss really seemed to have shaken him up quite a bit. Mental note: Never attempt to kiss the angel again. At least not without permission. And let’s face it—that would never happen. Not if I returned to being a succubus.

The event wasn’t in the sanctuary of the church itself—more like a recreational area. We stood outside the double doors of the rec center, waiting to go in. Above them stood a giant cedar cross, carved ornately with some sort of ivy design. Even though it wasn’t the sanctuary, it was still intimidating as all Hell. The cross looked almost identical to one that stood out in my memory from long ago. And here I stood inside a church. There was no pain. No burning. Just me and Jules—our arms still linked.

When I first fell from grace, I had a few aimless days on my own. Soon after, Lucien sought me out though it was outside of his call of duty. I was never quite sure how or why he knew how to find me. He showed me the ways of the succubi, had taken me to my Queen, and had even tried to locate my maker—mostly so he could berate him for his lack of responsibility. And here I was doing nothing in return. Julian was right—it was my turn to save Lucien. And if I managed to stop my own murder while at it, even better.

I leaned into Julian so that he could hear my whisper. “Okay, I’ll try to find the murderer. But, honestly, Jules, I don’t know where to even start. And I still need to do this tonight. It’s too late to turn back now.” I shrugged and let my free hand fall to my side, slapping the outside of my thigh.

Julian smiled at me, his rigid demeanor relaxing slightly.
I knew you would come around.
His voice boomed in my thoughts.

I jumped at the sound of his voice—I completely forgot that an angel’s kiss has the potential to connect our thoughts. My eyes narrowed at him. “Wait—can you hear
all
my thoughts now? Even the naughty ones?”

He laughed. “I can read all of
your
thoughts. You can hear only what I allow you to hear.”

“So say something. Let’s test this puppy out.” I raised an eyebrow and waited.

He stared at me some more, looking down with his chin angled away from my body.

Wiejfdisy? What the Hell is that?
“Wait a minute—gibberish doesn’t count, Jules. Think something real.” I did a mental eye roll at his childish response.

He sighed. “Fine.” Pressing his lips together, he looked to the ceiling, formulating the exact thought he wanted to share.
I’m sorry I pushed you away so aggressively.

He lowered his eyes from the gaze at the ceiling and glanced back down at me, a look of regret washed over his face.

The corners of my mouth curved into a small smile. “I’m sorry, too. I should have known better than to make advances on an angel. More than two hundred years of not having to control my impulses—it’s hard to start now.”