Richelle Mead: Succubus Revealed

“It’s just weird,” I said lamely.

Jerome rolled his eyes. “If you want something to worry about, then I’ll give you something.”

All thoughts of Seth and names flew out of my head. Everyone at the table (except Carter, who was still slurping) froze and stared at Jerome. When my boss said he had something for you to worry about, there was a strong possibility it meant something fiery and terrifying. Hugh looked startled by this proclamation too, which was a bad sign. He usually knew about hellish mandates before Jerome did.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I had a drink with Nanette the other night,” he growled. Nanette was Portland’s archdemoness. “Bad enough she still won’t let me forget the summoning. She was also going off on some bullshit about how her people were more competent than mine.”

I glanced briefly at my friends. We weren’t exactly model employees of Hell, so there was a very good chance that Nanette was right. Not that any of us would tell Jerome that.

“So,” he continued, “when I denied it, she demanded we step up and prove what superior Hellish minions we are.”

“How?” asked Hugh, looking mildly interested. “With a soul pledge drive?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Jerome.

“Then with what?” I asked.

Jerome gave us a tight-lipped smile. “With bowling.”

It took me a moment to really comprehend that in thirty seconds, the conversation had gone from a deeply seriously mystery about my love life to bowling for demonic bragging rights. And yet, this wasn’t a particularly unusual pattern in my world.

“And by ‘we,’ ” added Jerome, “I mean you four.” He nodded toward Peter, Cody, Hugh, and me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Let me make sure I’m following this. You’ve signed us up for some sort of bowling league. One that you aren’t even going to participate in. And this is somehow going to prove your employees’ ‘evilness’ to the world.”

“Don’t be silly. I can’t participate. Bowling teams only have four people.” He didn’t comment on the proving evilness part.

“Well, hey, I’ll totally yield my spot to you,” I said. “I’m not that great a bowler.”

“You’d better become one.” Jerome’s voice grew cold. “All of you had, if you know what’s good for you. Nanette will be impossible to live with at the next company meeting if you lot lose.”

“Gee, Jerome. I love bowling,” said Carter. “How come you never mentioned this to me before?”

Jerome and Carter held gazes for several heavy seconds. “Because, unless you’re ready to take a fall for the team, you can’t really compete with us.”

A funny smile fell over Carter’s face. His gray eyes glinted. “I see.”

“I don’t really like your use of ‘us,’ seeing as you’ve already written off any participation on your part,” I pointed out to Jerome, imitating his earlier snide tone.

Peter sighed, looking rather woebegone. “Where on earth am I going to find tasteful bowling shoes?”

“What’s our team name going to be?” asked Cody. That immediately degenerated into a conversation of truly terrible suggestions, such as Soulless in Seattle and Split Decision. After almost an hour, I couldn’t handle any more.

“I think I’m going to go home,” I said, standing up. I had kind of wanted dessert but was afraid I’d be drafted for beach volleyball and cricket if I stayed much longer. “I brought the wine. You guys don’t really need me anymore.”

“When you get home, tell my wayward offspring that I need him to coach you guys,” said Jerome.

“By ‘home,’ I actually meant Seth’s,” I said. “But if I see Roman, I’ll let him know you’ve found a good use for his formidable cosmic powers.” Roman—Jerome’s half-human son and my roommate—actually was a pretty good bowler, but I didn’t want to encourage Jerome.

“Wait!” Peter sprang up after me. “You have to draw for Secret Santas first.”

“Oh, come on—”

“No complaining,” he argued. He hurried to the kitchen and returned with a ceramic cookie jar shaped like a snowman. He thrust it toward me. “Draw. Whatever name you get is who you’re buying for, so don’t try to get out of it.”

I drew a piece of paper and opened it up. Georgina .

“I can’t—”

Peter held up a hand to silence me. “You drew the name. That’s who you’ve got. No arguments.”

His stern look stopped me from any more protests. “Well,” I pointed out pragmatically, “at least I have a few ideas.”

To his credit, Peter sent me home with some chocolate fondue sauce and a Tupperware bowl filled with fruit and marshmallows. Hugh and Cody were running forward with the bowling team plan, trying to come up with a practice schedule. Jerome and Carter said little and instead kept watching each other in a speculative, knowing way that was typical of them. It was hard to read much on their faces, but for once, Jerome gave off the vibe of having the upper hand.

I left Capitol Hill for Seattle’s University District and Seth’s condo. All the windows were dark when I pulled up, and I couldn’t help a smile. It was almost eleven. Seth must have called it an early night, something I’d been urging him to do for a while. Thinking of that, my smile faded as quickly as it had come. A few months ago, Seth’s sister-in-law, Andrea, had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. The disease had been pretty far advanced when caught, and although she’d almost immediately gone into treatment, the outcome still wasn’t promising. Worse, the treatments had taken a huge physical toll on her, one that was testing the family’s strength. Seth was frequently helping them out, especially when his brother Terry was working, since it was harder for Andrea to care for their five daughters now. Seth had been sacrificing both sleep and his writing career to look after them.

I knew it was necessary. I loved Seth’s family and had helped them out as well. But I still hated seeing Seth run himself down and knew that it hurt him to put his work on hold. He claimed his writing was the least of his problems right now and had time before deadlines were an issue, particularly since his next two books were queued for printing next year. I couldn’t argue against that, but the sleep issue? Yeah, I was on him a lot about that and glad to see my words had gotten through tonight.

I used my key to let myself in and slipped through the condo as silently as possible. I practically lived here lately and had no trouble finding my way around furniture in the darkness. When I reached his bedroom, I could just barely make out his form wrapped up in covers, softly outlined in the light of his alarm clock. I quietly took off my coat and then shape-shifted into a cotton babydoll nightgown. It was sexy but not blatantly so. I planned on sleeping with him tonight, for real.

I slid into bed and pressed myself up against his back, lightly tossing an arm over him. He stirred slightly, and I couldn’t resist pressing a kiss against his bare shoulder. The scent of cinnamon and musk washed over me as he snuggled closer. Despite sternly chastising myself that he needed to sleep, I lightly ran my fingers along his arm and sneaked in another kiss.

“Mmm,” he murmured, rolling over toward me. “That feels nice.”

A few things hit me at once. First, Seth didn’t wear any sort of cologne or aftershave that smelled like cinnamon. Second, Seth’s voice didn’t sound like that. Third, and perhaps most important, Seth wasn’t in bed with me.

I didn’t mean to scream as loudly as I did. It just kind of happened.

I was out of the bed in a flash, groping for the light switch on the wall while the intruder attempted to get up. He ended up getting tangled in the covers and falling off the bed with a loud thump, just as I found the light. I promptly reached for a weapon, but seeing as this was Seth’s bedroom, my options were limited. The heaviest, most dangerous object I could readily grab ahold of was Seth’s dictionary, a leather-bound monstrosity that he kept on hand because he “didn’t trust the Internet.”