Justin Gustainis - Those Who Fight Monsters Tales of Occult Detectives

“You like your men, period.” Daun smiled. “And your women.”

“I’m an equal-opportunity succubus,” I agreed happily. Whatever the gender, whatever the form, I loved humans. To death. Speaking of which…

From our secluded table in the corner, I gazed at my new client, who was sipping a drink all by his lonesome at the bar. To look at him, you’d never guess that Noel Le Noir — born Leon Siegal — was a Satanist (which put him on my side) and a master magician (which did not). At first glance, he looked bookish and plump, with a weak chin and acne scars. And talk about overkill on the black: silk shirt, slacks, shoes, socks, dyed hair. A gaudy silver necklace with a pentacle dangling point-side down hung around his fleshy neck. He looked like he’d tried going Goth when he’d hit 35 and didn’t quite make it.

Based on his reputation Below, I’d expected to feel his magical power teasing his flesh like foreplay. One didn’t become a master of the dark arts without radiating a little menace, or at least seeming like the sort who’d go out of his way to kick puppies and drown kittens. This guy? He radiated as much power as a limp dick. Maybe someone was fooling around Downstairs and mislabeled Noel’s file as that of an actual mage, instead of a wannabe who chanted his “Hail Satan’s” and pretended his rod of power was something other than what lay between his legs.

He didn’t need magic, however, to score a one-way ticket to Hell, even without the Satanism. Noel Le Noir was personally responsible for nineteen human sacrifices and too many animal killings to count, to say nothing of all the pain and suffering he’d caused others over the past dozen years or so. He was a serial killer with the face of a nebbish.

Yum.

“I still don’t understand why you scored this assignment,” Daun said, casting a dark look at Noel.

“What’s to understand? Queen Lillith gave it to me personally.” And never mind how she’d gloated as she’d handed me the paperwork. “Besides, I haven’t eaten a magician in centuries. And the last one was a charlatan.”

“This guy’s supposed to be the real deal, babes.”

“Even if he is” —which I seriously doubted— “I can take him. The queen wouldn’t have given me the assignment if I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken your queen for someone who’s on Team Jezebel.” Daun leaned in close. “She’s making it known far and wide that you intend to corral an evil magician’s soul down to the Pit, and that it wasn’t sanctioned by Lust.”

Gosh, Lillith had lied. What a shock.

Daun’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Demons of Greed are already taking bets on whether you get completely destroyed or just bound to the mage as his slave.”

“What’re my odds on actually nabbing his soul for Hell?”

“Against? I can’t count that high.” He grinned, his fangs flashing momentarily through his human disguise. “Your queen has set you up, Jez. If you do your job, it’s a win for Lust, and she gets the credit. If you fail, it’s because you overstepped, and she’s not responsible.”

I pouted. Lillith, the first mortal demon and my eternal tormenter (read: my boss) had it in for me, for reasons that I still didn’t know. She was why I was stuck as a fifth level succubus, even though I’d been around for almost four thousand years. She absolutely despised me. Maybe one day I’d know the reason why. Or not. “I know what I’m doing, Daun.”

“So do I. You’re getting in over your head.”

“You just prefer it when I’m giving head.”

“Not the point.” He looked at me intently, studying my features. Which was a waste of time, since, like him, I was in a human guise at the moment. “There’s a reason even the Lower Downs don’t like getting assigned to magicians. If this guy isn’t a phony, he very well could overpower you and then boom: instant bondage. And not in the fun-filled, handcuffs way. You’d be his servant until Judgment Day.”

“He’s not going to live that long.”

“Or you could just be vaporized.”

“Why, sweetie,” I said, cooing. “It’s almost like you actually care about me.”

He chuckled, low and lush. “You’re the best lay in all of Hell. I’d hate to see your ass incinerated by mortal magic.”

Awww. For a demon, that was practically a love sonnet. “Strip away the human magic, and all you have is another flesh puppet. He’s got his temptations, just like any other mortal.” I patted Daun’s thigh. “No worries. When I’m done with Noel Le Noir, he’ll be ten minutes dead before he realizes he lost his soul.”

“Big talk for a little succubus.”

“It’s my chance to finally prove to my queen that I deserve to be promoted. Besides, I’m sure Noel’s a fraud. I’m not sensing anything from him.” Real magicians reeked of magic, like garlic in an Italian restaurant. “What about you?”

Daun glanced in Noel’s direction, sniffed loudly, then rubbed his nose. “Only thing I smell on him is his aftershave.”

“See that? Nothing to worry about.”

“He could have a shieldstone. That would mask his power.”

“You’ve been screwing the role-playing folks again, sweetie. There’s no such thing as a Shield Against Evil.”

“Some would say there’s no such thing as demons.”

“The difference is they’d be wrong. Bye-bye, Daun. I’ve got work to do.”

“Fine, go get lusty with the master magician. If he destroys you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He kissed me, very thoroughly, then disappeared in a puff of evil intent.

I fluffed my hair (currently jet black), adjusted my boobs (double-D), and retouched my lipstick (blowjob red). Then I stood up, grinning like a cat after a serving of canary.

All right, Noel Le Noir. Time to say hello to the best — and last — lay of your life.

I shimmied over to him with practiced ease, the clacking of my four-inch heels announcing my presence well before I reached his side. The bartender, who was sliding another drink in front of Noel, paused to give me an appreciative glance, his gaze stopping at my boobs. I gave them an added jiggle by way of saying hello. And then I slid onto the barstool next to my new client.

“What would you like?” the bartender asked me.

“Sex on the beach.” Yes, I like the drink, too.

He grinned and got right on it. I watched him work, enjoying the way he wore his black tee-shirt, feeling Noel’s gaze on me. Noel Le Noir was into power games; being a multiple murderer proved that. He’d make the first move. And if he didn’t, a lick of my infernal power would turn up the heat. I preferred not to resort to my Hellish magic to hook a client — that gets old after the first thousand years — but I had no qualms about whammying a hesitant one with lust, if that’s what it took to get the job done. I’m a demon, after all. We cheat.

As the bartender slid the drink in front of me, Noel dropped a twenty on the bar and cleared his throat. “I’ve got this one, Dave. Keep the change.”

Dave the bartender flashed a perfunctory smile and took Noel’s cash, then also took the hint and sidled away.

Me, I beamed at Noel. “That’s sweet,” I said. “Thanks for the drink.”

“You’re welcome.” Noel actually talked to me and not to my chest. Hmm. To fix that, I took a deep breath. Yep, there we go — now he was staring at my twin assets. Much better. He introduced himself to my breasts: “I’m Noel.”

“Jesse,” I said, offering him both my nickname and my hand. He pressed my palm to his lips — old fashioned and wonderfully, inappropriately intimate. The kiss was warm, and lingering, and hinted at many things. As did his tongue.

Ooh. Whether or not Noel had any real magical power, he sure knew how to use his mouth. Bonus!