Richelle Mead: Succubus Shadows

In a place that catered to so many tourists, plenty of the staff spoke English, not that it mattered much to me. I went to the front desk, asking if they had a guest named Seth Mortensen. The woman working there looked it up, and when she found him in their computer, I caught my breath. He was here. I’d really found him.

Well, kind of. When I asked her for his room number, she told me the hotel couldn’t disclose that information. She could, however, connect me to his room. I hesitated before accepting. If Seth truly didn’t want to be found, he might change his hotel or even city once he knew I’d located him. Still, I didn’t necessarily have any other way to get in touch, so I let the woman connect me. It did no good. There was no answer.

Thanking her, I headed out to the back of the resort, figuring I’d walk off my frustration and hopefully clear my thoughts as I determined my next course of action. The pool and beach stretching out behind the building were intended for guests only, but it was easy enough to slip past security. I even took the opportunity, when briefly alone in a hall, to shape-shift into more appropriate clothing: a red bikini and sarong.

Outside, the heat hit me once again, and I paused, letting the sun soak into me. The time zone wasn’t far off from Seattle’s here, but even in early evening, the temperature was intense—which I loved. Beyond the pool and its bars, I could see a stretch of soft golden sand curving around blue, blue water. Still not as vivid as what I’d grown up with, but beautiful nonetheless. Lounge chairs and cabanas were scattered along the beach as sunseekers tried to grasp the last of the day’s rays.

I walked toward it, hoping to find a chair of my own and maybe a mai tai. If I wasn’t going to find Seth right away, I might as well—

There he was.

I came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing a young, giggling couple to walk into me and spill their drinks. I couldn’t believe it. God might work in mysterious ways, but Hell worked in efficient ones.

I murmured apologies to the couple and started toward Seth, stopping again after a few more steps. What would I do? What would I say? Seth had broken an engagement and fled from everyone he knew. Now, here I was, intruding on his escape. I’d run through a few mental scenarios but hadn’t decided on anything concrete. With a deep breath, I decided to just push forward and wing it.

I came up behind his chair, my shadow falling over him as I grew closer. He lay sprawled out in shorts and a Tootsie Pops T-shirt. A drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic sat by his side, and he was reading a book whose cover I couldn’t see from this angle. Once more, I halted, confused over how I felt.

“The perfume,” he said without warning. “Even out here, I can smell it. I’d know you anywhere. Tuberose and incense.”

I walked around, coming to stand off to his right side. I put my hands on my hips. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

He took off his sunglasses and studied me, one of those small, amused smiles on his face. “I am…and I’m not. I thought I did a good job of disappearing. But I knew if anyone did find me, it would be you.”

“Because I’m well connected?”

“Because you’re you.”

Searching for a clear spot of sand, I lowered myself to sit, but Seth scooted over on his lounge chair and indicated the space beside him. Hesitating only a moment, I sat next to where he lay, looking over him as our legs touched. He reached for his drink—a peach-colored monstrosity with enough sliced fruit for a salad in it—and took a sip.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“They call it el Chupacabra. ”

“They do not.”

“They do. I think it’s got about fifty kinds of vodka in it. You’d like it.”

“I’m surprised you like it.”

“If you’re going to become a villain, you might as well go the whole way,” he replied, gesturing for a waiter to bring another drink.

“You’re not a villain,” I said softly.

“Yeah? Is that what they’re saying back home?”

I glanced away and watched small waves break on the shore. “I haven’t really talked to that many people. Mostly your family is worried.”

“You’ve neatly dodged the question.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I turned back to him.

He gave a small shrug. “What’s there to say? I broke her heart. I broke your heart. I don’t think someone like me is meant to be in relationships.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not the one who sucks people’s souls away.”

“Depends how literally you take the metaphor.”

“Seth, stop. Stop making a joke out of this. Why’d you do it?”

“You have to ask?” The new drink arrived remarkably fast, and he handed it to me. He was right. It did taste like it had fifty kinds of vodka. “I didn’t feel it. Not the way I should. You know that.”

I did, and I was surprised at the frank and honest nature of our conversation. We hadn’t had anything like this…well, not since we were dating. It had all been awkwardness and guarded feelings since things fell apart.

“But why now?”

It was his turn to look away, gazing off at the postcard view without seeing it. The sunlight hadn’t quite turned orange yet, but it was bringing out the copper in his hair and amber of his eyes. I stared at him, taking it all in, hardly noticing how long it took him to answer.

“Georgina,” he said at last, eyes still elsewhere. “When I ended things with us at Christmas…I did it so I wouldn’t hurt you someday. And, I suppose, so you didn’t hurt me. I went to Maddie for the wrong reasons then, but it didn’t seem so bad since I actually cared about her—I mean, aside from the fact you had to live with it in front of you every day. I never meant for that part to happen.”

“It’s okay,” I said automatically, hating the sadness in his voice. “I don’t—”

“Shh,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’ll actually talk for once, so you better let me before I lose the nerve.”

I smiled—though none of this was all that funny—and nodded.

“Anyway, I wish I’d chosen someone I didn’t like or respect. It would have made things simpler. But as time went on, I found myself growing closer to her—but not farther from you. My plan wasn’t working. I was only hurting the two of us more and more. Maybe I should have disappeared then.”

I bit my lip on any comments.

“The only one who wasn’t hurting was Maddie—because we were keeping her in the dark. And after you and me…well, you know. After we were together, I felt so horrible…so guilty…I hated myself for what I’d done to her. I wanted desperately for one person to come out of this happy. I wanted her to stay in blissful ignorance. I wanted to make it up to her.”

I’d deduced as much. And I also knew about the guilt…the guilt from the sin that had left a stain on his soul. Seth didn’t know about that part and probably shouldn’t ever.

“But whatever happiness I could give her wasn’t real,” he continued. “And I realized that the other day when we were at Erik’s, and I…hell, Georgina. I don’t really know what happened or even what I saw. There are only two things I’m sure about. One was that when Jerome came and said he needed me to come with him to help you, I did. If he’d said he had to take me to Hell itself, I would have.”

I closed my eyes. “Seth—”

“And when I was there and Erik sent me wherever he did, I felt…well, it was beyond anything I’d experienced. At first, I was so confused and disoriented. I didn’t get what they were saying about finding you. It seemed surreal. Then, it was the easiest thing in the world. I just looked for you, and there you were. In all that space and all that chaos, reaching you was like looking into myself. We were so close…it defied physics and every rule of nature I knew. It didn’t seem real that I could be together with anyone like that.