Succubus Shadows (5 page)

I let my own dreamy affection go and drove up north of the city to Erik’s store. I still felt a little bad about him meeting me so late, but the lights in his windows gleamed out into the night. And inside, the usual music and incense were going strong, just as they would during business hours. Glancing around, I didn’t see him right away. Then, I noticed him kneeling down in front of some palmistry books.

“Hey, Erik.”

“Miss Kincaid.”

He rose to his feet, but the motions were jerky and unsteady. And when he finally turned to face me, there was a gauntness in his dark-skinned face that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him. My instinct was to rush over and support him, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t welcome that. Still, I asked the obvious.

“Are you okay? Have you been sick?”

He gave me a gentle smile and began moving—slowly—toward the store’s main counter. “A passing cold. They seem to last longer than they used to, but I’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t so certain. I’d known Erik for a long time…. I’d lost track of the years, actually. It wasn’t an uncommon thing with mortals, one that often blindsided me. One moment they’d seem young and healthy…the next, they were old and dying. It never hurt any less, either. Part of the reason Seth had broken up with me was to spare me the pain of that loss because I began growing overly paranoid about his well-being.

Now, watching Erik, I felt even worse for keeping him out so late. I also felt bad because I realized I never visited except when I needed something. When had I last seen him? Months ago, when Jerome had been summoned. I’d sought Erik’s help then and hadn’t been by since.

“Tea?” he offered, just like always.

“No, no. I don’t want to delay you,” I said. I leaned against the counter and felt relieved when he settled down on a stool. “I just wanted to ask you a couple things. Something weird happened.” I almost laughed as the words left my mouth. That was such a typical opening statement for me. Again, that earlier thought returned: my life was one big circle, repeating and repeating.

I gave him the rundown on my weird encounters with the unknown and—for the large part—indescribable force. He listened carefully, bushy gray eyebrows knit into a frown.

“I hate to tell you this,” he said when I finished, “but there are probably a number of things that could describe.”

“Surprise, surprise,” I murmured. That was more a commentary on my life, not his abilities.

“The fact that your…uh, friend couldn’t identify it is intriguing.” Erik was one of the handful of people who knew Roman was in Seattle. Erik had no interest in Heaven and Hell’s policies and wouldn’t be tattling anytime soon. “Of course, he lacks the full skill set his relatives have. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to any greater immortals?”

I shook my head. “No. They’re notoriously absent, as usual. I think I’ll be seeing Jerome soon.” He’d probably want to check in with Roman. “So we’ll see then.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have any ready answers. I never seem to.”

“Not in the beginning,” I said. “But you always come through in the end. More patterns.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” I said with a small sigh. “Sometimes I just feel like the same things are happening to me over and over. Like, even this siren thing. Why me? In the last year, I’ve been targeted over and over. What are the odds? Why does this keep happening?”

Erik’s eyes studied me for several moments. “There are some people around whom the powers and supernatural beings of the world will always circle. You appear to be one of them.”

“But why?” I asked, surprised at the childish tone in my voice. “I’m just another succubus. There are tons of us out there. And why recently? Why only in the last year?” It had to be the cruelest joke in the world that all these paranormal mishaps had started happening right when my romantic ones had. Apparently, one source of pain just wasn’t enough.

“I don’t know,” Erik admitted. “Things change. Forces move that we can’t see.” He paused and coughed, making me wince. How sick was he? “Again, I feel like I’m useless to you.”

I reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. “No, no. You’re invaluable to me. I don’t know how I would have gotten by all these years without you.” This earned me a smile.

Wanting him to go to bed, I picked up my purse to leave. As I was heading to the door, he suddenly said, “Miss Kincaid?”

I glanced back. “Yeah?”

“Do you still talk to Mr. Mortensen?”

The question caught me by surprise. Erik had been intrigued when Seth and I were dating, marveling at the connection between a human and a succubus, though he didn’t have the crazy obsession that Carter used to.

“Sure. Sometimes.” My earlier conversation with Seth came back to me, the ease and warmth that had surrounded us.

“And things are amicable?”

“More or less.” Aside from his impending marriage, of course.

“That’s good. It doesn’t always happen in these situations.”

“Yeah, I know. Although—” I bit off my words.

Erik tilted his head, studying me curiously. “Although what?”

“It’s amicable, except sometimes…sometimes this whole situation with him. It’s like having my soul split in two.”

“Understandable,” he said. Those eyes burned with compassion, and I felt tears spring up in my own. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I was just curious.”

I assured him it was okay and said good-bye again. The mention of Seth and the recollection of being with him earlier had made my mood go melancholy. I drove back to West Seattle, miserable that I’d be helping with his wedding tomorrow and worried over Erik’s sickly state. As heavily as those thoughts weighed on me, they immediately flew from my mind as soon as I walked into my living room.

“Roman!”

He sat on the couch as he had last time, now eating a microwavable chicken pot pie. The TV was on, but he didn’t seem to be watching it. When he looked up at me, he didn’t wear that amused, teasing look. His expression was dark. Troubled, even.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get home,” I exclaimed, tossing my purse and keys to the floor. “You won’t believe what happened.”

Roman sighed. “No,
you
won’t believe what happened.”

“Yeah, but this is—”

He held up a hand to interrupt me. “Let me get this out first. It’s been driving me crazy.”

I swallowed my impatience. “Okay. I’ll bite. Does it have something to do with Simone?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I followed her tonight to this twenty-four-hour coffee shop called Bird of Paradise.” He eyed me carefully. “Do you know it?”

Now I felt a frown creeping over my face. “Yeah…it’s in Queen Anne, right around the corner from Emerald City. What was she doing there? I mean, aside from getting coffee?”

Roman’s expression turned darker and—unless I was mistaken—sympathetic. “She was there hitting on a guy,” he said. “Seth.”

I
stared at him, and the world stood still for a moment. “Wait…Seth was meeting Simone there?”

Roman shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. It was more like she sought him out. He looked like he’d been working there for a while when she showed up.”

“And then?” My voice was very small.

“Then, she walked over to him and shyly introduced herself as a fan, saying she recognized him from his website. Picture perfect demure coquette.”

“And
then?
”

“She said she wished she had a book with her to sign and asked if he’d sign a piece of paper instead. He said he would, and then she sat down, all apologetic for bothering him. She said she had a couple questions and hoped he wouldn’t mind if she stayed for a few moments.”

I noticed then that I was clenching my fists. With a deep breath, I released them. “Seth wouldn’t strike up a conversation with a stranger like that. Not without being horribly uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “He definitely had some of that social awkwardness.” There was a wry note in Roman’s voice that I didn’t like. The two men had once been rivals for my affection, and apparently, Roman was still holding on to some bitterness—and a feeling of superiority. Roman could be quite charismatic when he wanted. “But she did a pretty good job at playing just as shy and nervous. I think it made him feel better.”

“So she
did
sit down?”

“Yup…and stayed for about a half-hour.”

“What?” I exclaimed. My volume made Godiva jerk her head up from a nap. “Did she try to seduce him?”

Roman’s expression turned considering. “Not in the usual way. I mean, she wasn’t as boring as usual. But she put him at ease enough that he relaxed and seemed to like talking to her. She wasn’t overtly sexual, and he didn’t look like he wanted to jump her. It was just…I don’t know. A nice conversation. Although, it had a few of those annoying facts she likes to drop.” He paused. “Oh, and she went brunette.”

That bothered me more than it probably should have. “But he sent her away, right?”

“No, Maddie showed up, and he left with her—after telling Simone it was nice to meet her.”

Oh, irony. Never, never would I have imagined I’d be so relieved to have Maddie show up and take Seth home. I also never thought I’d be glad his devotion to her would keep him from falling prey to another woman’s charms.

I took a step toward Roman, my fists clenching again. I didn’t blame him as messenger; I was simply driven by my own fury.

“What the hell?” I demanded. “What fucking game is she playing?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe no game at all. She likes coffee. I’ve certainly seen her buy it before. She could have ended up there by coincidence and thought he looked like a good catch. God only knows why.”

I ignored the barb. “Oh, come
on,
Roman. You’re not that stupid. Do you honestly think that in a city like Seattle, out of all the men here, it’s a coincidence that she shows up and starts hitting on
my
ex? You know as well as I do that there aren’t many coincidences in our world.”

“True,” he admitted, setting the remnants of his dinner on the coffee table. The cats went for it.

“Will you stop doing that?” I demanded. “They’re not supposed to be eating that kind of stuff.”

“Don’t take your bitchy attitude out on me.” But he stood up and took the plate to the kitchen. When he returned, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood in front of me. “Look, you’re right to a certain extent about coincidences. It is weird that she would hit on Seth. But think about this too: don’t you think there are a few things around here a
little
more important than your ex-boyfriend? Jerome’s theory makes the most sense, you know. Hell let him keep his job, but that doesn’t mean they’re letting the whole incident go. They’re the ultimate grudge-holders. They’d want to assess the situation. That’s why she’s here.”

“Except that she’s not assessing anything! Unless you consider my friends’ Pictionary skills.”

“You should have seen them play Jenga.”

“This isn’t a joke. I need to figure out what her game is. You have to take me with you when you spy on her again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“I can go invisible.”

“She’ll still sense you.”

“You can hide my signature. You told me before that you could. Was that a lie?”

Roman grimaced. Just before things had literally blown up between us, he’d asked me to run away with him, promising he could conceal me from the greater immortals.

“I can,” he admitted. “But I just think you’re asking for trouble.”

“What am I risking?”

“A lot. Whether it’s Seth or Jerome, there’s obviously something going on. Get tangled up in that, and you could be risking your life. I won’t let that happen to you.”

“Since when do you care what happens to me?” I asked incredulously.

“Since you became my ticket to rent-free living.”

And with that, he turned invisible, hiding his signature as well.

“Coward!” I cried. My only answer was the front door opening and then shutting. He was lost to me, and I realized I’d again missed my chance to bring up my weird encounters from these last couple days.

I tossed and turned again that night, but it had nothing to do with my fear of walking off the balcony or into Puget Sound. I was filled with rage, both at Simone for making the moves on Seth and at Roman for abandoning me. When I woke up in the morning, I took comfort in knowing I didn’t need Roman to confront Simone. I could do that on my own.

Of course, there were a few complications there, the first being I didn’t know where Simone was. Her hotel was probably the logical place to start, though most succubi—even a bland one like her—wouldn’t spend a lot of time hanging out there. Well, unless she had company—and I didn’t really want to walk into anything like that. And anyway, I had one tiny commitment to attend to before I could go bitch-hunting.

Maddie.

I’d regretted my decision to go shopping with her the moment the words had left my mouth. Yet, somehow, I’d totally blocked out those feelings yesterday when I’d been sitting with Seth. A brief thought about the wedding had flitted through my mind…and then it had been gone. I’d spent the rest of the time laughing and talking with him as though there was no Maddie in the world. But as I headed over to the bookstore, where she and I had agreed to meet, I had to accept reality once more. Seth was no longer mine.

He also wasn’t Simone’s. But I’d deal with that later.

Maddie was waiting for me downstairs, but I used the excuse of needing coffee before we left, in order to dash up to the café. I wanted to see if Simone was lurking. No matter her shape, I’d know if she was there. Yet, as I casually waited in line for my white chocolate mocha, I sensed nothing immortal. Seth was there, engrossed in his work, and never even saw me. Apparently, his muse was still going strong.

I let him be and joined Maddie downstairs again. She had a list of eight store names and addresses. Most were dress shops, and I was skeptical that we could make them all before we were due into work. She was more optimistic, but then, that was typical of her.

“No point in worrying right now,” she said. “We’ll just do them one at a time and see where that gets us. Besides, the last few are bakeries, and we wouldn’t want to eat a bunch of cake before trying on dresses.”

“Speak for yourself,” I said, sliding into her passenger seat. “I’m not trying anything on.”

She gave me a wry smile. “Aren’t you? You’re my bridesmaid, remember? We talked about it at the party.”

“No,” I said swiftly. “I said and did all sorts of crazy stuff that night, but I never agreed to it.
That
I do remember.”

Maddie’s expression was still light, but I thought I heard a little hurt in her voice when she spoke next. “What’s the big deal? Why don’t you want to be one? You know I’d never dress you in anything horrible.”

Why? I pondered the answer as she pulled into traffic.
Because I’m in love with your future husband.
I could hardly tell her that, of course. As it was, I could see my continuing silence was making her feel worse. She was reading it as a slight to our friendship.

“I just…I just don’t like all the, uh, fanfare that goes with weddings. There’s so much planning and stressing about little details. I’d rather just sit back in the audience and watch you go down the aisle.” Well, actually, that was one of the last things I wanted to do.

“Really?” Maddie frowned, but thankfully, it was more out of surprise than disappointment. “You’re always so good at planning and little details. I thought you were into that.”

That was a fair point. It was why I made such a good manager. “Yeah, kind of…but I mean, at the receptions, drunk guys always hit on the bridesmaids, you know? They think we’re desperate because we’re the ones not getting married.” Also not entirely far from the truth in my case.

Maddie’s smile returned. “Those are some pretty lame excuses.”

They were indeed, but she said nothing more as we drove.

After Maddie’s initial failure with picking flattering wedding dresses, she now threw her faith completely into me to lead her to fashion success. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and I found myself slipping into style-advisor role pretty easily. In fact, if I was able to preoccupy myself with the objective parts of this process—flattering fit, color, etc.—it was easy to block out the big picture of her and Seth.

The saleswomen working at the stores soon learned who was in charge here and backed off with their recommendations, simply fetching the dresses I indictated. I studied each one Maddie tried on, keeping my standards high. With so many stores to choose from, we could afford to be picky.

“That one’s good,” I said at our third store. It was corseted, narrowing her waist, and had a skirt that didn’t flare. Those puffy ones always made the hips look bigger, though no one ever seemed to realize that. You had to be tall and thin to get away with that, not short and buxom like Maddie.

She admired herself in the mirror, a look of pleasant surprise on her face. She was still drawn to ones that I didn’t think were good choices, and this was the first of my picks that she really liked. The eager saleswoman jotted down the style number, and then Maddie started to turn around and try on the rest waiting in her dressing room. As she did, a dress on a mannequin caught her eye.

“Oh, Georgina, I know what you said, but you
have
to try that on,” Maddie begged.

I followed her gaze. The dress was slinky and sexy, floor-length violet charmeuse with straps that tied around the neck.
You were wearing that color the first time we met.

I averted my eyes. “Not ugly enough to be a bridesmaid dress.”

“It’d look great on you.
Everything
looks great on you,” she added with a shake of her head. “Besides, you could wear that to other things. Parties and stuff.”

It was true. It didn’t scream bridesmaid. Not taffeta or bright orange. Before I could protest further, the saleswoman had already fetched one from the rack, guessing my size with that uncanny ability her kind had.

So, reluctantly, I tried the dress on while Maddie went to her next option. The size wasn’t
perfect,
but a little shape-shifting neatened it up where it needed to be. Maddie was right. It did look good on me, and when I stepped out, she took it as a done deal that I’d buy it—no,
she
offered to buy it—and would be in her wedding. The saleswoman, seeing an opportunity, and possibly getting back at me for my tyrannical attitude, had “helpfully” fetched two more dresses for me to try while I waited for Maddie. Maddie claimed she couldn’t stand the thought of me waiting around with nothing to do, so I reluctantly took them into the dressing room. They too looked good, but not as good as the violet.

I was returning them to the saleswoman when my eye caught something. It was a bridal dress. It was made of ivory duchess satin, the fabric wrapping around the waist and halter top. The skirt was draped, pulled into little tiers. I stared. It would have been a disaster on Maddie, but on me…

“Want to try it?” asked the saleswoman slyly. Something told me that bridesmaids covertly trying on brides’ dresses wasn’t a rare phenomenon around here. The desperate and mournful not-getting-married attitude in action.

Before I knew it, I was back in the dressing room, wearing the ivory dress.
You were wearing that color the first time we met.
Seth had been wrong about that and corrected himself, but for some reason, the words came to me yet again. And the dress looked great. Really great. I wasn’t overly tall but was slim enough that it didn’t matter—and I filled out the top beautifully. I stared at myself in a way I hadn’t with the other dresses, trying to imagine myself as a bride. There was something about brides and weddings that instinctively spoke to so many women, and I shared the impulse as well, jaded succubus or no. The grim statistics didn’t matter: the divorce rates, the infidelity I’d witnessed so often…

Yes, there was something magical about brides, an image fixed into the collective subconscious. I could see myself with flowers in my hands and a veil on my head. There’d be well-wishers and joy, the giddy faith and hope of a beautiful life together. I’d been a bride once, so long ago. I’d had those dreams, and they’d blown away.

I sighed and took the dress off, afraid I might start crying. There would be no wedding for me. No bridal hopes. Not with Seth, not with anyone. Those things were lost to me forever. There was only an eternity alone, no lifelong lovers, only those I shared a night with….

Unsurprisingly, I was kind of depressed for the rest of the day.

Maddie bought the violet dress for me, and I was too glum to protest—which she read as acceptance of my bridesmaid fate. We made it through the rest of our dress stops but didn’t get to the bakeries. By the end of it all, we had four candidates for her dress, which I regarded as good progress.