Richelle Mead: Succubus Blues

The archdemon turned to me, dark eyes cold and shocked that I would dare grab hold of him like that. I knew then, cringing under that gaze, that something in our fond, indulgent relationship had changed forever—something small, but important nonetheless. I didn't know what had done it. Maybe it had been Seth. Maybe it had been Roman. Maybe it had been something else altogether. All I knew was that it had happened.

"Please," I begged, ignoring how desperate I must sound. "Please don't. Don't take me from him... out of his head like that. I'll do anything you want. Anything." I brushed a hand over my eyes, attempting to look calm and in control, knowing I was failing.

One eyebrow shifted ever so slightly on Jerome's face, the only hint that I had piqued his interest. The term "deal with the devil" had not arisen lightly; few demons could resist a bargain.

"What could you possibly offer me? The sex thing only worked on my son, so don't even think about trying it now."

"Yes," I agreed, voice growing stronger as I plunged forward. "It worked on him. It works on all sorts of men. I'm good, Jerome. Better than you know. Why do you think I'm the only succubus in this city? It's because I'm one of the best. Before I hit this funk... this, I don't know, whatever mood I've been in for a while now, I could have any man I wanted. And not just simply for their strength and life force. I could manipulate them. Make them do anything I asked, talk them into acts of sin they never would have dreamed of before meeting me. And they would do it. They'd do it, and they'd like doing it."

"Go on."

I took a deep breath. "You're tired of the 'all lowlifes, all the time,' right? Me being negligent? Well, I can change that. I can raise your stock higher than you've ever dreamed. I've done it before. All you have to do is let Seth go. Let him keep his memories intact. All of them."

Jerome studied me a moment, mind working. "All the 'stock' in the world won't do me any good if he runs around blathering about what he's seen."

"Then we'll see if he can handle it first. When he recovers and wakes up, we'll talk to him. If he doesn't look like he'll be able to cope with it all... well, then you can erase his memories."

"Who will make the call if he can cope or not?"

I hesitated, not wanting that decision in the demon's hands. "Carter will. Carter can tell if someone's telling the truth." I looked at the angel. "You'll know if it's okay, right? Okay for him to know... about us?"

Carter gave me an odd look, one I could not interpret. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"What about your end?" asked Jerome. "Will you hold it up—even if Carter decides he's unsafe?"

That was harsh. I had a feeling Jerome wouldn't negotiate on this one, but I was willing to risk it, so confident did I feel about Seth's capacity to process immortal activity. I opened my mouth, about to agree, when I caught Hugh shaking his head at me out of the corner of my eye. Frowning, he tapped his watch, mouthing something I couldn't understand at first.

Then, it clicked. Time. I had listened to the imp talk about his job enough to know the rules of negotiation: never make an open-ended deal with a demon. "If Seth keeps his memories, I'll walk the succubus straight and narrow for a century. If they have to be erased anyway, then I'll still do it for... a third of that."

"Half," countered Jerome. "We aren't mortal. Even a century is nothing on the face of eternity."

"Half," I agreed dully, "but no more than survival dictates. I'm not going to do this every day, if that's what you're thinking. I'll only get fixes as I need them, but they'll be strong ones. Very strong—loaded with sin. With men of good caliber, that'll be... oh, every four to six weeks."

"I want better than that. Extra credit. Every couple of weeks, whether you need it or not."

I closed my eyes, unable to fight anymore. "Every couple of weeks."

"Very well," said Jerome, a warning note in his voice. "But you will be held to this agreement unless I choose to terminate it for some reason. Not you. There will be no wiggling out for you."

"I know. I know, and I accept."

"Shake then."

He extended his hand to me. Not hesitating, I took it, and power crackled briefly around us.

The demon smiled thinly. "We have a deal."

"Why so blue, Kincaid?"

I looked up from the information desk's computer screen to see Doug leaning lazily over the counter's edge. "Am I?"

"Sure. You have the saddest look on your face I've ever seen. It's breaking my heart."

"Oh. Sorry. Just tired, I guess."

"Well, then, get out of here. Your shift's over."

Glancing down, I read the time on the computer. Five-oh-seven. "I guess it is."

He eyed me askance as I rose listlessly from the chair and made my way out from behind the desk. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Like I said, just tired. I'll see you around."

I started to walk away. "Oh, hey, Kincaid?"

"Yeah?"

"You're friendly with Mortensen, aren't you?"

"Sort of," I conceded cautiously.

"Do you know what happened to him? He used to be here, like, every day, and now he's been gone all week. It's freaking Paige out. She thinks we offended him or something. “

"I don't know. We're not that friendly. Sorry." I shrugged. "Maybe he's sick. Or out of town."

"Maybe."

I left the store, stepping out into the dark autumn evening. Friday in Queen Anne brought people in droves, drawn by the area's assortment of activities and nightlife. Ignoring them, lost in my own thoughts, I walked over to my car, parked a block away. Immediately, a vulture in a red Honda slowed down and put her signal on, realizing my spot was about to be vacated.

"You ready for this?" Carter asked me, materializing in the passenger seat.

I fastened my seatbelt. "Ready as I'll ever be."

We drove up to the University District in silence, a hundred questions on my mind. Since removing Seth from my apartment last week, the angel had told me not to worry, that he would see to the writer's recovery. I'd still worried anyway, of course, about both Seth and the deal I'd made with Jerome. I was about to become the single greatest source of chaos and temptation in Seattle; even Hugh's stellar track record wouldn't look so good... er, bad, anymore. I would be more than the slave Helena had claimed I was. The very thought made me ill.

"I'll be with you," Carter told me soothingly as we approached Seth's door minutes later. The angel flickered briefly in my vision, and I realized he'd gone invisible to mortal eyes, though not to mine.

"What does he know?"

"Not much. He's been awake more and more these last couple of days, and I've told him a little, but really... I think he's been waiting for you."

Sighing, I nodded and stared at the door. Suddenly I felt unable to move.

"You can do this," Carter said gently.

Nodding again, I turned the door handle and stepped inside. Seth's condo looked much the same as when I'd last been here, the kitchen still bright and cheery, the living room lined with boxes of unpacked books. Faint music drifted from the bedroom. I thought it was U2, but I didn't recognize the song. Moving toward the sounds, I reached Seth's bedroom, pausing in the doorway, afraid to cross the threshold.

He was in bed, half sitting up, propped up by pillows. In his hands he held The Green Fairy Book, looking to be about a third of the way through it. He looked up at my approach, and I nearly sagged in relief to see how much better he looked. His color was back, his eyes bright and alert. Only that facial hair looked ragged and unkempt, the result of no shaving for a week, I guessed. That answered my question about whether or not Seth had maintained the thin, neat beard on purpose.