Zoey Rogue (5 page)

“Zoey! Where were you last night?”

Zoey closed her locker enough to see the approach of her best friend, Vikki. Vikki’s arms and upper body were covered in colorful tattoos, one for every ten Cambions she killed over the past four years. A particularly brutal sparring match left Zoey’s headache worse than when she woke this morning. She had no patience for anything Sucubatti-related.

“I don’t know what happened last night,” Zoey said. Not for the first time today, she puzzled over the missing memory. “I woke up this morning on the Professor’s porch swing. He told me I drank too much again, and I just went with it. Thank god he called Eric.”

“Eric?” the young woman with Vikki asked. “You’re not … you know. Dating an Incubus, are you?” Her eyes widened. Zoey thought she heard earlier that the new girl’s name was Lydia.

“Worse. Zoey’s dating a human.” Vikki grinned.

“Damn right I am,” Zoey said firmly. “You got any aspirin, V?”

“Always.” Vikki reached into the locker beside Zoey’s and retrieved a bottle of painkillers, tossing it to her. “We went to a party last night after our secret mission that ended up not so secret. You were supposed to show. What the hell happened?”

“I dunno,” Zoey muttered. “I woke up with a horrible headache and blood on my lucky knife.”

Vikki eyed her. “You went out without me.”

“Not on purpose. I can’t remember shit.”

“This is what you have to look forward to,” Vikki said to Lydia. “A teammate who runs out on you to kill Cambions on her own.”

“I didn’t run out on the team.” Zoey sighed. “My head hurts and I’m running late.” She placed her workout gear into her locker and closed it. “Besides, she won’t be on our team long anyway.”

“Why not?” Lydia asked.

Zoey and Vikki exchanged a knowing look.

“Our team is for the Hunters no one wants to deal with,” Vikki replied. “Disciplinary nightmares. They can’t get rid of us, though, because we have the highest kill rates. And you’re blonde. None of us are.”

Lydia glanced past them to the rest of the girls. Zoey followed her gaze. The rest of the locker room looked like it was overrun by cheerleading squads or wannabe models: the normal girls who transferred into the elite Cambion-killing corps – known as Hunters – were chosen for their looks and were almost all blonde. Zoey was one of a small handful of brunettes and Vikki the only redhead. The third member of their team, Ginny, was half African American with dark hair and the fourth, Tiff, half-Korean with blue-black hair.

If Lydia stayed on Team R, she’d be the first and only blonde.

Zoey tugged a strand of hair free from her ponytail and curled it around her finger to make sure she’d put in enough hair product to make it stay. The curl remained, and she tucked it behind her ear.

“I don’t want to be a misfit, and I’m definitely not a disciplinary problem. Why did they put me on Team R?” Lydia’s voice showed how overwhelmed she was.

“Geez, thanks,” Zoey said dryly. “Like we have the plague.”

“We do,” Vikki said. “But we’re happy that way, and everyone knows we’re the best. You’ve reached the pinnacle, Lydia. Olivia is the only one who can appoint people to our team, and no one is allowed to transfer us or punish us the way they probably want to.”

“That’s what I heard,” Lydia said. “Team R has the highest kill rates and most successful missions. I heard the waiting list was over two hundred Hunters long.”

“So why did they put you on our team?” Zoey asked. “Didn’t you just transfer in from school?”

“Yeah.” Lydia shrugged. “Heidi said I placed the highest on the agility and strength exams since you, Zoey.”

“I hated those tests,” Zoey murmured, recalling the week-long trial that every Hunter went through. The better the Hunter, the farther down the alphabet they were assigned, in terms of teams. Team R was the most elite and smallest of them all. Teams A through Q consisted of at least ten Halflings each. There was no other team assigned a letter of the alphabet beyond R. Every Hunter was tested and placed upon entering the Hunter corps under the control of the full-blooded Succubae that acted as Internal Affairs officers.

“It can’t be that hard,” Vikki teased. “Zoey is like, two feet tall, so maybe she’s the odd one out, not you, Lydia.”

Even Lydia was close to six feet, like almost all half-Succubae were. Vikki’s flame-hued hair and Lydia’s flawless features reminded Zoey how different she really was. At just under five and half feet, Zoey was the smallest girl in the program and had been for three years. Her solace: she out-killed everyone but Vikki, her sole competition.

Zoey recalled when she’d first transferred from the Sucubatti’s version of high school into IAB, the security branch of their society, three years before. She’d been relieved to have an outlet for her restlessness rather than worried about fitting in. The alternatives – that she went into the diplomatic, business or public service corps – had been like an axe over her head, prior to her transfer here. She wasn’t cut out to deal with people and loved the life of defending innocent humans, clubbing, and killing bad guys.

“Anyway, just accept that you did something to get put on our team and move on. Don’t be like Zoey. She’s been in denial for years,” Vikki teased.

“Not denial,” Zoey retorted. “I want to be as normal as possible. I live in an apartment off this godforsaken compound for that reason. I have a boyfriend. I have a car and plants. This is a day job. Or, I guess a night job. That’s it.”

“Speaking of night job. You up for the club tonight?” Vikki asked. “I got a lead on a few Cambions.”

“Cambion,” Lydia repeated. “Incubus father, human mother. Unlike us, who are genetically made in a laboratory. They’re the ones we’re supposed to kill, because they kill humans to collect sex energy, right?”

“Good girl,” Vikki patted her on the head.

“Yeah, I’m there,” Zoey said. “It’s been like, a week since I’ve been out drinking. I’m going crazy. I have to stay ahead of your record.”

“No way in hell! You have to beat my record first!”

“It’s on, sistah!” Zoey grinned.

“Wow. Maybe I can-” Lydia started.

“Kay. Bye guys.” Zoey slung on her backpack and walked away. She didn’t want to be friends with the new girl or to spend more time on the damn compound than she had to. Pretending to be normal was hard work, and she wasn’t going to waste time here, especially if she was going out on a mission this evening.

She emerged from the locker room and crossed through the upscale gym, where a couple dozen girls still worked out or sparred with the weapons of their trade: pewter knives, short swords, and throwing knives. Stepping into the spring afternoon, she was irritated to see it was raining again. They’d had nothing but thunderstorms for a week solid. The sidewalk was flooded, which meant her feet would be soaked and half-frozen by the time she walked the mile to her apartment.

Zoey exited the campus through the wrought iron gates surrounding the pristinely kept lawns and modern buildings. The campus grew too fast the past few years, and the Halflings’ dorms were moved to the external side of the campus wall.

Dwelling on the missing night, Zoey felt worse for abandoning her friend last night, especially after standing up Eric, too. If that’s what happened. She really didn’t know. It wasn’t the first time she was missing an entire night.

The cold rain felt good against her heated skin at first. The sex magic trapped in her body left her feeling more fevered than usual. It took half a mile for the cold rain to sink into her skin and for her to start shivering. She plodded past the apartment buildings belonging to the humans she desperately wanted to be like and up the stairs to the place she shared with her boyfriend. Her phone rang as she opened the door. She reached for it and slung her backpack down before checking the ID.

“Hey Professor,” she grunted. “What’s up?”

“What’s up. What every polished young lady should be saying,” the male voice chided.

Zoey smiled. The Professor was the most ancient Incubus alive, but his voice carried the warmth of youth and the huskiness of a full-blooded Incubus. It slid across her skin like silk and tickled the sensitive area at the back of her neck.

One of five Incubuses that broke away from the Incubatti during the War that severed the Succubus and Incubus societies, the Professor was revered for the histories and records he kept. The Sucubatti rewarded the rebel Incubuses by giving them a special place in their society as scholars and the title of Benefactors,
who helped rear young, full-blooded Succubae and the half-breeds, the girls who were half-human, half-Succubae, known
simply as Halflings. In exchange for the Sucubatti sheltering men viewed by Incubatti as traitors, the Benefactors agreed never to collect sex energy again.

“My dear, do you have time to visit little ole me?” he asked.

“Always.” Zoey said with a sigh. The Professor was too gentle to order her to do anything. Every Hunter was assigned a guardian, a full blood Succubus capable of helping them balance the sex energy. The Benefactors were also assigned Halflings, and he was her guardian. She never told him no. “Eric has the car. Let me change clothes, and I’ll run over.”

“Eric. The human boyfriend?”

“You know very well who Eric is.”

“The human you abandoned me for a year ago. Interesting you made it this long.”

“He might be proposing soon,” she said, irritated at his bemusement. The Professor had stopped openly mocking her for wanting to distance the rest of her life from her professional one, but he still got his digs in when he could.

“Proposing what?” he asked politely.

“Marriage.”

“Aaahhhh. I believe I should congratulate you.” There was disbelief in his voice.

Zoey hung up on him. She stripped on her way to the bedroom and tossed the wet clothing. She’d be soaked by the time she got to the Professor’s Victorian-style house on the outside of campus. She dressed in leggings and a long-sleeve t-shirt then packed a change of clothes and slung them on her back. Pulling on a hat and running shoes, she paused by the front door to gaze at the collage of pictures on one wall.

They were all of her and Eric from the past year. Photographs from major holidays with his family, a summer vacation, his graduation from college. With sandy blond hair and dark eyes, Eric had a brilliant smile that lit up a room and a gentle heart. He wasn’t athletic or overweight. He worked as an accountant for a local insurance company. Everything about him screamed normal.

His mother had let it slip he wanted to propose soon. Zoey was at first thrilled then horrified. Eric had no idea what she was or what she did.

She left the apartment, troubled. She loved what she had with Eric. Their relationship was simple. Eric grounded her, kept her from being absorbed into the Sucubatti society like the rest of the girls. She was the only one who lived off campus, the only one with a life that didn’t revolve around the otherworldly society that sucked her in when she was ten. She remembered her foster home fondly, before she was yanked away and dumped into the Sucubatti society. She’d found a peaceful place again and didn’t want anything to change.

She ran along the street instead of the flooded sidewalks this time. There was less water on the street, and she arrived to the Professor’s with socks that were dry. Satisfied, she trotted up the stairs to his restored Victorian house and knocked on the door.

It opened to reveal a butler almost older than the Professor. Zoey walked in, wiping her nose on her t-shirt. The butler teetered away while she went to the restroom on the bottom floor. The décor of the house was masculine: dark woods, earth tone furnishings and heavy furniture. Changing quickly, she went to the office where she knew she’d find the Professor.

He glanced up from a large desk. What hair he still had was shaved. Tall with a lean frame, he resembled an aged George Clooney with sparkling, dark eyes. It was hard to remember his age with the Incubus charisma that still trickled off him, despite giving up sex energy for a hundred years. One of his hands clutched a cigar. She loved the scent of it, masculine yet sweet. His Incubus power wound though her senses, wrapped Zoey in a warm blanket and lured her into a sense of security she suspected was purposeful.

She dropped into the comfortable leather chair in front of his desk.

“Hey, kiddo.” He said drily in the voice that skittered across her nerves and made her body warm from the inside.

“Howdy. Here as requested.” Accustomed to the affects of his magic, she ignored the sensations.

“Marriage,” he said. “I’ve never lost a woman to another man.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “He hasn’t asked yet. He might not.”

“Or he might.”

“Yeah.” She looked out the window.

“If he does, you’ll have to leave him,” the Professor said. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

“I’ll deal with it,” she said quietly. The nature of the bond between a Hunter and her assigned Succubus or Incubus was completely one way. She’d stopped railing about the unfairness of it, mainly because the Professor was the only person on the planet who didn’t treat her like a child.

The Professor – and all the guardians – maintained access to the minds of the Hunters they sponsored. When in direct contact with their Halflings, they could read minds as well as sense their emotions from afar, due to their special bond. Most of the time, the Professor was content
with hearing emotions of interest: fear, anger, sorrow that indicated there was trouble Zoey couldn’t handle. He rarely – if ever – read her mind.

“You don’t deal with things in a healthy manner,” he reminded her. “He’ll blow up, walk out and you’ll go over the edge. As usual.”

“I’ll come back. I always do.”

“Maybe you can postpone your meltdown for a few weeks.”

She sensed his unease and met his dark gaze again. The Professor set down the pen in his hand and leaned back.

“Someone has been fueling the divide between Incubatti and Sucubatti, perhaps by feeding misleading information to both camps. Or by some other means,” he started. “The culprit has been narrowed down to one of the Hunters. There’s going to be an inquisition soon.”