Soul Survivor (18 page)

G
eorge and I got back to the hotel, my mind still swimming with the new information. The murders had to do with me. Or with a spell cast on me? My brain felt so full that it might implode at any moment. With the hotel key in hand, I moved to insert it into the door when George grasped my wrist, eyes wide.

“Someone is in there,” he whispered.

I darted a look to him. “Rob?” Then, I inhaled and felt the presence as well. Definitely not Rob. Someone—something like us. “Another succubus,” I said.

He nodded. “Claudette maybe. Weren't we supposed to see her again soon?”

“Only one way to find out,” I said and inserted the key, flinging the door open, ready to attack whatever lay in wait for us.

“Took you idiots long enough,” Kayce said, flipping through a magazine, lying across my bed.

“Kayce!” I ran to her, flinging my arms around her neck, and she laughed, catching me in a hug as well.

“You didn't think I'd let you guys have all the fun, did you?”

“But Lucien wouldn't let . . .”

“Oh, fuck Lucien. He's not the boss of me.”

“Uh . . . well, he kind of is,” I reminded her.

She rolled her eyes and kicked her feet off the bed until she was sitting upright. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“Hey, gorgeous girl,” George said while taking her hand.

“Hey back at you.” Kayce grinned from ear to ear. “Damn, I missed you guys. Those bitches Claudette sent were horrible.”

“Do you know Claudette?” I slid a sideways glance at Kayce, who shrugged.

“Sure. I've met her once or twice. Annoyingly composed. So fucking put together. She and our Succubus Queen are best friends.”

George and I snuck a glance at each other. “If she and Mia are friends, that might explain the stone.” He brought a shoulder to his ear.

“What's wrong with the girls she sent Lucien?” I asked, shifting topics.

Kayce paused looking to the ceiling in thought. “These girls, they play the good-girl card on their conquests a lot. The sexy girl next door that good guys simply can't resist.”

I shrugged. “In Utah, that's probably the only approach that works.”

“Maybe,” Kayce sneered. “But it's really annoying. In Vegas, just as many guys want the chick who oozes sex.” Kayce laughed out loud, falling back on her elbows. “Oh my God, you should have seen Lucien. He was furious that they wouldn't strip. They didn't want to waste their time on souls that wouldn't give them much of a fix.”

I cringed. An angry Lucien simply meant he would take it out on me once I got home. I was the one who had put him in the situation to begin with.

I looked to George. “We should probably go see Claudette, huh?”

He shrugged. “Whatever. We'll go tomorrow if we don't get to it today. You already bagged one twinkling soul. That should keep her satisfied for now.”

Kayce's eyebrows shot up at the admission. “Oh yeah? I thought you looked extra spirited today.”

Rolling my eyes, I pushed off the bed, heading to my luggage. I sifted through it as if I had something to do.

“And,” George continued, “she and the elemental finally hooked up.” He smiled triumphantly as I swiveled to glare at him.

“What? When exactly were you going to tell me this?” Kayce shrieked.

“I was going to tell you—you know—soon.”

“Oh,” she sneered, “soon. Of course. Maybe at your wedding you would have thought to inform your best friend of this relationship.”

“Who says you're her best friend?” George tossed a pillow playfully at Kayce's head, and she deferred it with a quick slap of her hand.

“And who said it was a relationship?” I returned. Kayce and George both flopped their cheeks to their shoulders in a look that said,
C'mon
.

“Well, was he as good as he claims to be?” Kayce wiggled her eyebrows, her almond eyes sparkling.

I sighed involuntarily, immediately regretting it as Kayce and George fell onto each other laughing. I laughed, unable to help the bit of giggles rising in my chest as well. Might as well just roll with the gossip. “I think I might have to experiment a few more times before I can fully give a fair review.”

Kayce winked, a big toothy grin flashing in my direction. “That's my girl.”

I fished around in my bag, taking out the pilot's iPad and setting it on the ground.

“Well, well, well, you made quite a purchase this weekend.” Kayce popped up, glancing down toward the iPad.

“Oh,” I said, looking at the device. I had completely forgot about it. “That's the pilot's. The assassin's.”

Her head snapped up and she looked sharply to George, then back to me again. “The who?”

“Didn't Lucien tell you?”

“About an assassin? Um, no. Clearly, he didn't or I would have been here within seconds.”

George rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess we know why he didn't tell you, then. He didn't want you up here for some reason or another.”

Kayce narrowed her gaze at him. “And that's exactly the point. I could have helped.”

“Oh yeah?” I folded my arms across my chest, quirking an eyebrow. “And how is that?” Kayce had a super mysterious job. One that I knew entailed busting heads, but she could never actually reveal to me.

“Just let me see the iPad.” She held out a hand, palm up.

With a sigh, I handed it to her and she flipped the cover open, turning it on. “You're going to need his passwords to get into any of the good stuff.” I looked at the screen from over her shoulder.

“That's what you think,” she said, hopping up and rifling through her own bag. Pulling out a mini keyboard and a few obscure-looking small devices, she plugged into the iPad and started typing madly on the keyboard. Within a few minutes, she looked up, a triumphant smile plastered on her face. “Done,” she said, so simply you would think that she had finished baking a blueberry pie.

“Done?”

With a nod, she passed me the iPad. “Yep. I ran a program that was able to pull most of his passwords. There weren't many. Dummy Aaron used the same one for several devices and emails.”

“You know his name?” I looked at her through slitted eyes.

Her own face grew solemn, smile dropping at the corners. “Yes.” She paused, cracking her knuckles and making a show of taking the device back. “It's all over his iPad.”

I stared at her a few seconds more, not quite buying it. She'd dropped his name so casually. As though she'd already known . . .

Kayce once again interrupted my thoughts typing wildly into the keyboard again. “What do you say we figure out who was in touch with this bozo?”

 

Two hours and two calls to room service later, we still hadn't found much of anything. As it turns out, most assassins don't receive their assignments via traceable emails. Go figure. The good news was that his iPad was connected to his home laptop, so we could access all the files on his home computer as well. The bad news was that Aaron was a clutterbug who downloaded everything and anything, then forgot to delete the files once he was done.

“What all did you find out about this guy already?” Kayce asked, fingers flying across the keys faster than my brain could even think.

I thought back. It had only been a couple days ago, but it felt like ages. “He's a warlock. He initially attempted to put me in a salt ring, but I—um, I managed to break away. Then he said something about a spell he had started to even out the playing field with succubi. Something that was going to put him on the map.” I shrugged.

George caught my eye and mouthed,
A spell?
My heart dropped into my stomach. Maybe this whole thing had nothing to do with me specifically. Perhaps it was all about succubi in general?

Kayce chewed her lip, glancing up at me from the screen. “That doesn't sound good. How'd he get away?”

“He fell on my sword.”

Both Kayce and George snapped their heads up to me. George had heard the abridged version the first time—but hadn't heard Aaron's exact cause of death. Kayce's eyes immediately narrowed. “How the fuck did you get a sword onto an airplane? What are you not telling me?”

I don't know why I didn't want to tell them about the magic thing. There was no rational reason why I should keep it from them or anyone. Maybe because I wanted to perfect it before allowing anyone to see and criticize. I wasn't quite adept yet with the skill. If anything, it could leave me more vulnerable than I realized. I shrugged. “I'm not keeping anything. He procured a sword and I was able to get it from him. I didn't mean to kill him—he fell onto it.”

Kayce opened her mouth to say something, but George caught her eye and gave a slight shake of his head. She closed her mouth without another word.

One particular file about halfway down the list stood out to me. It had funny blue writing and a thumbnail-sized logo I didn't recognize to be any application. I pointed to it. “Open that one,” I said.

Kayce clicked on it. “Shit, it's encrypted.” She typed some more and leaned back, rubbing the heel of her hand into her eye. “This one might take a while, guys.”

“Can't you just run your little thingy?” George said with a flippant hand gesture.

“I'll run your little thingy,” Kayce mumbled under her breath, a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

“As if I was anything close to little. Child, please.”

“I'm glad to see we all still have a sense of humor even while in the midst of work,” I retorted. “And by ‘work,' I mean my imminent
death
.”

“All right, all right, keep your panties on.” Kayce typed a few more things and then sat back, moving the iPad from her lap onto the bed. “There. The program will take a while to run. Probably a couple of hours.”

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Just in time for us to grab some dinner and meet with Dejan.”

George sighed and pushed himself off the bed, shifting his appearance into something tidier. “We also have a do-over date with Rob, baby girl.”

I groaned. A threesome was so not on my desirable list for this evening.

“I don't want to hear it!” George snapped. “You left me high and dry last night.”

“I know, I know,” I exhaled with a puff. “Operation Ex Caliber. Damien is not gonna be happy about this, though.”

“Operation wha?” Kayce darted a glance back and forth between the two of us.

George filled her in while I shifted into a lavender empire-waist dress with ivory details around the bodice. Over top, I added a cardigan and a belt to make the outfit a bit more modest.

“Well, shit!” Kayce looked to me, all smiles. “If Monica doesn't want the job, I'll do it!”

“Really?” George asked, eyes wide. “You'll be my third?”

He looked to me for confirmation that it was okay—I happily nodded. It was more than okay, actually.

Thank Hell for small blessings. Today was already getting leaps and bounds better.

D
amien and Adrienne were already waiting in the lobby for me when I got there. Adrienne sat in one of the ugly plush chairs in the lobby, tapping her foot against the coffee table leg. Damien flipped through a
Men's Health
magazine with about as much excitement as a hunter attending a PETA meeting.

He flashed a smile when he saw me, dropping the magazine back to the coffee table in front of him. “There she is,” he said, standing to plant a kiss on my cheek.

“What's this?” I mocked disbelief. “No insult? No snarky comments? This can't be Detective Kane.”

“Okay, succubus. Don't be a smart ass.” He slapped my butt playfully.

Adrienne grunted as she stood, sunglasses still on her nose despite the fact that we were inside. And the sun had already gone down. “I don't understand how you are always late, when you don't even have to physically
get ready
to be anywhere.”

“I'm not late.” I glanced at my phone. It was just a little past six-thirty. “We don't have to be there until seven.”

“Yeah,” she snapped, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “And we said we would meet here in the lobby at six-thirty sharp.”

I snorted. “Well, no one told me that. You're lucky I'm down here at all this soon.”

“Damien, let's go.” She stormed past the both of us and out the front revolving doors.

“Damn, what flew up her ass?” Damien looked at me, eyebrows raised.

“What!?”

“Since she was fine with me up until you showed up, I can only assume her little outburst had to do with you.”

“There's a reason they made you detective, huh?”

He paused. “Well? What'd you do to her?”

“How do you know she didn't do something to me?”

He didn't answer, but he chewed on the corner of his mouth. “Okay, fine,” I continued. “Never try to come between an angel and her right to get laid.”

Damien ran a hand over his face. “Shit. I didn't want to hear that. Okay, well . . . just apologize or something so we can get on with this investigation, okay?”

“Fine. Not that I really think I have anything to apologize
for
. But I'll try. Can we please go before she booby-traps my seat in the car?”

Damien smiled at that. “She
is
pretty resourceful. In the meantime, why don't you fill me in on what you and George found at the library.”

 

By 6:53
PM
, we were seated at a booth in Richard's Pub—it was technically outside of the city limits of Salt Lake City. Adrienne and I sat across from each other and Damien slid in next to me, sliding an arm over top the back of the seat.

Adrienne grunted watching us from over the top of the wine list.

“Okay.” Damien jumped up once again. “I'm gonna grab a beer. Adrienne—white wine?” She nodded. “Monica, what's your poison?”

“Sex. But I'll have a scotch and water, please.”

Adrienne continued to study the drink list even though Damien had gone to place our orders already. Her mouth was pinched and turned down at the corners, her pink lips a perfect bow shape.

After another minute or so, I found Damien staring at me. Once he caught my eye, his gaze flitted to Adrienne's, then back at me with an encouraging nod. I rolled my eyes and nodded back.

Ugh. Apologies
. “Hey, Adrienne—about last night . . .”

“I don't want to talk about last night,” she responded sharply.

“Right. Well, we don't have to, but I felt like I should say . . .”

“You're sorry? For what exactly? For stopping me from having sex with the man I love? Or for telling me that you yourself would have sex with him in the right circumstances?” She slapped the menu down on the table and folded her hands on top of it. On the outside, she looked calm and composed, but there was a swirling of emotions behind her eyes, a brewing storm. “Oh, wait . . . right . . . you already
did
have sex with him. How good was it, Monica? Because I can barely remember these days.” Her voice was sour and it cracked with distaste. I wasn't sure I'd ever heard her so bitter. In her human days, we didn't really talk much—she may have been this way, but I'd just never seen it.

After a deep breath, I continued. “I am not going to apologize. But”—I hurried into my next sentence before she could cut me off again—“I do know how it feels to desire; to want sexual contact. And to be unable to get it. I was an angel once, Adrienne. I know that feeling. And back when I was an angel, no one explained to me I would be feeling those desires. I thought I was some deviant. Some terrible angel they had made a mistake in giving wings to.”

Adrienne still chewed the inside of her lip, but her face softened. “It's so easy to forget that you were once an angel.” She looked around and her tough facade seemed wildly more forced than earlier.

A raspy voice in my ear startled me, and I nearly jumped over the table.

“And how did you
deal
with those feelings, Monica?” Dejan's predatory smile gleamed beside me.

Luckily, Adrienne remained cool and composed, her gaze shifting over my shoulder. “Well, well. You must be the infamous Dejan I've heard so much about.”

His black eyes darted to Adrienne, the smile slowly arching across his pale, chiseled face. “Good evening to you, Ms. Lauriette.”

“Oh, please,” Adrienne said. “Call me Detective.” Her smile quickly hardened into the businesswoman I had seen the other day. I was beginning to like the no-bullshit Adrienne.

Dejan chuckled in a placating way, as though Adrienne were adorable when she wanted to play cop. “Monica, shall we tell Ms. Lauriette here why so many angels are hunted and feasted upon by vampires?” He had a lock of my hair in his palm and he inhaled it as though I were his own plate of food. “Or don't you remember?”

How could I forget? I cleared my throat. “Angel blood is a . . . a rare delicacy in the vampire world. It's sweet and delicious and acts as a wildly potent drug to vampires.”

Adrienne swallowed, appearing physically nervous for the first time all trip. “We are holy,” she said, raising her chin higher in the air. “The taste of our blood should bring you nothing but pain and burning.”

Dejan chuckled, the sound making my skin crawl. “You would think, wouldn't you? But we are vampires—we get off on pain. That's part of what makes it so fucking good.”

Damien came over, setting the drinks in the middle of the table. He cautiously took his seat next to Adrienne and slid my scotch and water to me. “Sorry I didn't get you anything. They were all out of O-neg.” He held his pint to Dejan and saluted before taking a sip.

Dejan's lip curled back, a snarl rumbling in the back of his throat. “That's what you think,” he answered, looking around. “This bar is full of O-negative blood.”

“Okay,” I interrupted. “Let's get started, huh? Dejan, what do you have for us? We already know that the crest on Lena's body is yours. And that she's some sort of relative of yours.”

Dejan's face registered surprise before he quickly hid it with a terrifying grin. “You have been doing your homework over here then, haven't you?”

“Yes,” Damien growled, leaning forward on two elbows. “Now what can you tell us that we don't already know?”

Dejan hissed in response, his lips curling back to reveal his sharp fangs.

Adrienne held two hands up, placing one calming touch on Damien. “How about if, instead, you tell us how you got started in the case. What made you come to Salt Lake City, Dejan?”

His snarl relaxed and he leaned back in the booth, slowly placing his folded hands on top of the table. “I keep track of all my descendants. This may be
difficult
to believe, but family was quite important to me. Human life does not mean so little to me as you may think it does. I knew almost immediately when Lena was murdered, and when I arrived at the crime scene, it was obviously something more than human. Her own car drowned her.”

“Yes, we know,” Damien answered.

“Of course you do,” Dejan sneered. “You're an
elemental
.” He spat the word as though it were dirty in and of itself. “I was sticking around to figure out what had happened, and a couple days later, Moe was murdered.” He slid a glance to me. “As soon as I saw the personal ad on the bulletin board, I knew he was yours. It was easily confirmed by looking up your family crest.”

“So you stuck around to continue looking into things?” Adrienne asked, taking a dainty sip of her wine. I slugged my scotch in a not-so-ladylike manner.

“Precisely. Soon after, Sonja was murdered. Awful, brutal murder it was. Julian's lineage threw me off. I certainly wasn't suspecting your old partner in crime to be a part of this,” he said, once again looking at me.

“Part of what exactly? What
is
this?”

He shrugged. “I thought I knew at first. I thought it was the lord's way of seeking revenge on all of us,” Dejan answered, talking only to me this time.

“The
Lord
?” Adrienne said. “Like, God?”

I shook my head at her with a hand signal. I'd explain later. Clearly he meant my lord. Lord Buckley. “But then with Luis . . .”

Dejan nodded, eyebrows darting upward. “So you know he is Lord Buckley's, then?”

I nodded. “I assumed. You just confirmed it for me.”

“Clearly he is not to blame here. That man was more family oriented than any of us.”

“I thought he lost his family? Centuries ago?”
To one of your kind
, I wanted to add, but stopped myself.

“His first family,” Dejan answered. “Every century or so, he would find a woman he cared about and he would have children again.”

“Oh, my Hell. How many kids must he have at this point?”

Dejan shrugged. “Typically he will have one or two new wives each century, so he's fathered many children. Most of which did not inherit his magic. And even if they did, his wives would water down the bloodlines. If you ask me, it's what he wanted. He doesn't want to see anyone's power surpass his own—not even a son or daughter he loves.”

“Does he have any other kids? Does Luis have any siblings?” I asked, stopping myself from grabbing at Dejan's arm.

“One is still alive. The rest have all passed on. As I said, most had very little magic.”

“Who is this Buckley?” Damien interjected. “I'd like to talk to him. Is he one of you?”

Dejan chuckled. “No. My kind cannot procreate.” His gaze shifted to Adrienne. “He is like you once were. A warlock. Though much more powerful. He had the power to live indefinitely. Never aged. Never died. Not to say he couldn't die—he was just rather clever.”

“And you don't know where we could find this Buckley? Does he have a first name?” Adrienne asked, taking copious notes on her iPad.

“I have not seen him in over a century,” Dejan answered.

“So what can you give us now that would be helpful in this case?” Damien said, his voice getting that hard detective edge to it. He was getting annoyed and it was obvious.

“This.” Dejan slid a piece of paper across the table to Damien. “This is the name and address of the only living son. He lives here on the outskirts of Salt Lake City. Quite the coincidence, isn't it? Why was it the son from Louisiana was brought up here to be killed when they could have murdered the descendant who already lived in the area?”

The shock on Damien's face would have been laughable if I wasn't also feeling the same amount of shock myself.

“That is all I have. For now,” Dejan said. I felt something press into the palm of my hand below the table by chilling fingers. When I looked up, Dejan's black eyes twinkled. “I will be going now. If I have something more, I will be in touch.”

Within a blink, he was already gone. I waited until Adrienne and Damien were deep in discussion about Lord Buckley's son before I looked into my palm and unfolded the piece of paper.