Richelle Mead - Succubus Blues

Yet, I still could not see that as sufficient reason for the random killing of immortals, simply to "prove a point." The fact that I knew these immortals personally made it worse. Carter's attitude still unnerved me, yes, but he had saved my life, and my days with him hadn't been unbearable. If anything, Roman should laud the angel. The nephilim's biggest complaint was that immortals stayed locked into archaic sets of rules and roles, but Carter had broken the mold: an angel who chose friendship with his hypothetical enemies. He and Jerome typified the kind of rebellious, nonconforming lifestyle so advocated by Roman.

Too bad that didn't seem to be enough to dissuade the nephilim. I wondered if I could.

"No," I told him. "I can't do it. And you don't have to do it either."

"Do what?"

"This plot. Killing Carter. Just let him go. Let it all go. Violence only begets more violence, not peace."

"I'm sorry, love. I can't. There's no peace for my kind."

I reached out and touched his face. "You call me that, but do you really mean it? Do you love me?"

He caught his breath, and I suddenly realized he could be just as hypnotized by my eyes as I was by his. "Yes. I do."

"Then do this for me if you love me. Walk away. Walk away from Seattle. I... I'll go with you if you do."

I hadn't realized I'd meant it until the words escaped my lips. Running off was a child's fantasy, true, but it would be worth it if I could avert what was to come.

"You mean it?"

"Yes. As long as you can keep me safe."

"I can keep you safe, but..."

He stepped away from me and paced around, running a hand through his hair in consternation.

"I can't walk away," he finally told me. "Almost anything in the world I would do for you, but not this. You can't imagine what it's been like. You think immortality's been cruel to you? Imagine what it's like always running, always watching your back. I have just as much trouble settling down as you. Thank God for my sister. She's the only one I have, the only mainstay in my life. The only one I loved—until you, at least."

"She can come with us..."

He closed his eyes. "Georgina, when my mother was still alive—millennia ago—we lived in a camp with some of the other nephilim and their mothers. We were always running, always trying to stay ahead of those pursuing us. One night... I'll never forget it. They found us, and I swear, Armageddon itself could never be so terrible. I don't even know who did it—angels, demons, or whatever. I mean, when it comes down to it, they're all the same really. Beautiful and terrible."

"Yes," I whispered. "I've seen them."

"Then you know what they can do. They swept in and just destroyed everyone. It didn't matter who. Nephilim children. Humans. Everyone was considered a liability."

"But you escaped?"

"Yes. We were lucky. Most weren't." He turned back to look at me. His heartache made my eyes burn. "Do you see now? Do you see now why I have to do this?"

"You only further the bloodshed."

"I know, Georgina. For Christ's sake, I know. But I have no choice."

I saw in his face then that he hated being a part of that bloodshed, part of the same destructive behavior that had haunted his childhood. But I also saw that he was inextricably tied to that. He could not escape it. He had lived too long, so much longer than me. The years of fear and anger and blood had twisted him. He had to see this game played out.

I fight every day to not let the past overtake me. Sometimes I win, sometimes it does.

"I have no choice," he repeated, face desperate. "But you do. I still want you to come with me when I'm done."

A choice. Yes, I did have a choice. A choice between him and Carter. Or did I? Was there anything I could do to save Carter at this point? Did I want to save Carter? For all I knew, Carter had slaughtered countless nephilim children over the years in the name of good. Maybe he deserved the punishment Roman wanted to mete out. What were good and evil, really, but stupid categories? Stupid categories that restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn't have any way to control.

Roman was right. The system was flawed. I just didn't know what to do about it.

What I needed was time. Time to think about all of this, time to figure out a way that would save angel and nephilim both, if such a feat were possible. I didn't know how to buy that time, though, not with Roman standing there staring at me, aflame with his romantic notion of running off together.

Time. I needed time and had no idea how to get it. I had no powers to help in a situation like this. If Roman decided I was a threat, I would be unable to fight against him. A nephilim could easily blow one of you out of the water. I could not pull divine strings and contracts like Hugh, had no superhuman reflexes and strength like Cody and Peter. I was a succubus. I changed shape and had sex with men. That was it.

That was it...

"Well?" Roman asked softly. "What do you think? Will you go with me?"

"I don't know," I replied, looking down. "I'm afraid." A tremulous note hung in my voice.

He turned my face toward his, obviously concerned. "Afraid of what?"

I looked at him through my lashes. It was a demure action. Vulnerable, even. Hard to resist. I hoped.

"Of... of them. I want to... but I don't think... I don't think we could ever be free. You can't hide from them, Roman. Not forever."

"We can," he breathed, putting his arms around me, his heart swelling at my fear. I didn't resist at all, letting him press his body up against mine. "I told you. I can protect you. I'll find the angel tomorrow, and we'll leave the next day. It's that easy."

"Roman..." I stared up at him, my eyes wide, the look of one overcome with some emotion. Hope, maybe. Passion. Wonder. I saw my expression mirrored in his own, and when he leaned down to kiss me, I didn't stop him this time. I even kissed him back. It had been a long time since I'd kissed simply for the sake of kissing, for the feel of his tongue gently pushing into my mouth, lips caressing mine as his hands held me tightly to him.

I could have kissed like that forever, just enjoying the physical sensation, devoid of any succubus feeding. It was magnificent. Intoxicating, even. There was no fear. Roman wanted more than kissing, however, and when he pulled me down, right onto my living room carpet, I didn't stop him then either.

Obvious heat and yearning filled his body. Yet, he moved carefully and slowly over me, showing a restraint that surprised and impressed me. I slept with so many guys that yielded right away to their own needs that it was downright astonishing to have someone apparently concerned with my fulfillment.

No way was I complaining.

He kept his body against mine, so there was no space between us as he continued kissing me. Eventually he moved from my mouth to my ear, tracing it with his tongue and lips before shifting to my neck. My neck has always been one of my more erogenous places, and I exhaled a trembling breath as that clever tongue slowly stroked the sensitive skin, making gooseflesh rise. I arched my body into his, letting him know he could have expedited things if he wanted, but he seemed to be in no hurry.

Down, down he moved, kissing my breasts through the delicate charmeuse of my shirt until the fabric was wet and clung to my nipples. I sat up so he could pull the shirt off me entirely. While he was at it, he slid off the skirt too, so I was left only in panties. Still focused on my breasts, however, he continued kissing and touching them, varying between soft, feathery kisses and hard, biting ones that threatened to leave flowering purple bruises. At last he slid down, trailing his tongue along the smooth skin of my stomach, pausing when he finally reached my thighs.