Richelle Mead - Succubus Shadows

I knew better than to wait up for him…but found myself doing it anyway. I lounged on the couch with Grey Goose and the cats, taking some small sweetness from those warm, furry creatures that loved me. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was on, which didn’t cheer me up any. Like the masochist I was, I watched it anyway.

At least, I thought I was. Because suddenly, the loud shriek of a car horn blasted into my ears. I blinked and jerked my head around. I wasn’t on the couch. There were no cats, no vodka. I sat on the railing of my balcony, precariously positioned. The horn had come from below, on the street. One car had nearly swiped another, and the near-victim had honked in his outrage.

I didn’t exactly remember the trip out here. I did, however, remember the force that had drawn me—largely because it was still there. The light and the music—that feeling of comfort and rightness that was so hard to articulate hovered before me, off in the air. It was like a tunnel. No, it was like an embrace, arms waiting to welcome me home.

Come here, come here. Everything will be all right. You are safe. You are loved.

In spite of myself, one of my legs shifted on the railing. How easy would it be to step over, to walk into that sweet comfort? Would I fall? Would I simply hit the hard sidewalk below? It wouldn’t kill me if I did. But maybe I wouldn’t fall. Maybe I’d step into that light, into the bliss that could block out the pain that always seemed to surround me lately….

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

The driver that had nearly been hit had gotten out of his car and was yelling at the other. That driver got out and returned the insults, and a loud tirade began. One of my neighbors on the floor below opened his patio and shouted for them all to shut up.

The argument, that jarring noise, brought me back to myself. Once more, the siren song faded away, and for the first time, I almost felt…regret. Carefully, I climbed off the rail and back to the solidity of the balcony. A fall might not kill me, but good God, it would hurt.

I walked back into the condo, finding everything exactly as I’d left it. Even the cats hadn’t moved, though they looked up at my arrival. I sat between them, absentmindedly petting Aubrey. I was scared again, scared and eerily attracted to what had just happened—and that scared me more.

Despite the vodka tonight, my last encounter had proven alcohol wasn’t to blame. No connection. Yet…it occurred to me there had been a common link all three times. My mood. Each time, I’d been down…sad about my lot in life, seeking reassurance that wasn’t to be found. And that’s when this phenomenon would happen, offering a solution and the comfort I thought was beyond me.

That was bad news for me. Because if this thing was drawn to woe and unhappiness, I had plenty of it to go around.

Iawoke to the smell of eggs and bacon. For a moment, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu. When Seth and I were first getting to know each other, I’d crashed at his place after too much to drink. When I had woken up, I’d discovered a full breakfast spread in his kitchen.

A few moments later, reality sunk in. There was no desk or bulletin board of book notes, no teddy bear in a University of Chicago shirt. It was my own dresser that looked back at me, my own tangled pale blue sheets wrapped around my legs.

With a sigh, I clambered out of bed and walked out to the kitchen, wondering what was going on. To my astonishment, it was Roman playing chef at my stove, both cats sitting at his feet—no doubt hoping for a bit of dropped bacon.

“You cook?” I asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

“I cook all the time. You just don’t notice.”

“I notice you heating up a lot of frozen food. What’s all this?”

He shrugged. “I’m starving. You don’t get a lot of time to eat when you’re on stalking duty.”

I eyed the eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “Well, I think you’ll be good to go for the rest of the day. Maybe the next two days. You sure did make a lot,” I added hopefully.

“No need to be coy,” he said, trying to hide a smile. “You can have some.”

This was the best news I’d heard all day. Of course, I’d only been up for five minutes. Then, last night’s events came slamming into me. “Oh, shit.”

Roman glanced up from where he was flipping a pancake. “Hmm?”

“A funny thing happened last night….” I frowned. “Well, not so funny…”

I explained that mystery force’s reappearance last night, as well as my unexpected swim from the other day. Roman listened quietly, the earlier levity rapidly disappearing from his face.

When I finished, he dumped his skillet of eggs into a bowl so hard that the bowl shattered. I took an uneasy step back. “Son of a bitch,” he growled.

“Whoa, hey,” I said. An angry nephilim was nothing I wanted around. “That’s part of a matched set.”

He glared at me, but I knew the anger wasn’t toward me, exactly. “Three times, Georgina. This has happened three fucking times, and I wasn’t around.”

“Why should you be?” I asked in surprise. My surprise then took an odd turn into outrage. “You aren’t my keeper.”

“No, but some entity is invading my home.” I decided not to point out that it was my home. “I should be dealing with that, not chasing some boring succubus for Jerome.”

“Ask, and ye shall receive,” a familiar voice suddenly said. Jerome’s aura washed over us as he materialized by the kitchen table.

“About time,” snapped Roman, that dark look still on his face. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to show up.”

Jerome arched an eyebrow and lit a cigarette. “Forever, huh? It hasn’t even been a week.”

“Feels like it,” said Roman. He handed me a plate of food, and I sat quietly at the table, deciding I should wait for this status report to unfold before delivering my latest problems to Jerome. “You guys should add following Simone to your list of punishments for the eternally damned.”

Jerome smiled and flicked his ashes into a vase of gerbera daisies on my table. I wasn’t thrilled about that, but at least it wasn’t on my floor. “I take it you’ve seen no noteworthy activities? Mei reported the same thing.”

Roman sat down beside me with his own food, setting the plate down with more force than he needed. I winced, but it didn’t break. “She’s done nothing but shop and take victims. Oh, and hit on Mortensen.”

Both of Jerome’s eyebrows rose this time. “Seth Mortensen?”

I started to ask how many Mortensens he knew, but Roman’s next words cut me off. “Yeah, she’s shown up a couple times, attempting some sort of lame seduction.”

My anger started to kindle again and then—

“Wait. A couple times?” I exclaimed. “More than the coffee shop?”

Roman looked at me, a brief glint of apology showing through his angry expression. “Yeah, I didn’t have a chance to tell you. She came to the bookstore while you were out with Maddie yesterday. Very nicely timed with your absence.”

I slammed my fork down on my plate. Really, it was a wonder I had any dishes left. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I kind of didn’t have the chance, seeing as we had bigger problems!”

Jerome had stiffened when Roman mentioned Simone attempting to seduce Seth. The reaction was weird, like he’d been caught by surprise. That was rare for a demon, rarer still for one to show it. Several moments later, he regained his composure, turning his attention to Roman’s comment. “Bigger problems?”

“Georgina’s being stalked,” declared Roman.