Succubus in the City (27 page)

At that point a Bastform demon in a cloud-blue crochet bikini and matching blue pareu tied around her waist came in through the entrance where Rosario had retreated. She had cat’s-eye glasses on a matching blue macramé cord around her neck and a remarkably self-satisfied look on her face.

Her!
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that was worth our vacation being destroyed by that librarian. No wonder we’d heard so quickly from Margit. This was not usual. And Azoked looked ridiculous in the bikini, although I’d heard that humans who didn’t know about us saw her as just another human. Though short, I hoped, really short. I didn’t want to contemplate how they would see her in her current getup. I surely didn’t want to see her at all.

But I still had to be polite. She served Satan, same as me, and I couldn’t immediately tear her to shreds for having shown up on Aruba. For all I knew, she had found the entire Brotherhood and consigned all of them to flames single-handedly and wanted only an umbrella drink and a few days on the beach as a reward.

Not likely.

She came in, took her drink from the tray that Rosario had left on the side table, and sat down on one of the deep cushioned sofas. “I am not pleased to be made a messenger, not even for Satan,” she began. “I begged Her to send Vincent, who is appropriate for the task and of much lower rank. Sending a full Akashic Librarian on an errand of this nature is unprecedented and I protested most heartily. But our Master insisted, and did permit me to take a few days of personal leave time as long as I was here.”

“Boondoggle,” Sybil hissed under her breath. It takes a greed demon to see through the mask so easily. “Bet she begged for the job for an all-expenses-paid vacation in the islands.” She raised her voice to a more conversational level and asked Azoked where she was staying, as if it were a pleasantry.

“Not on the beach,” the Bastform demon replied primly, as if she were on a tight budget. “The Royal Sonesta in Oranjestad. They have several annoying macaws in the atrium who scream every time I enter. It is most disturbing.”

The Royal Sonesta is not a budget hotel. In fact, it was nicer than the place we were staying, and has its own private beach with a shuttle and I think a private tiny island as well. Trust Azoked to make the most elegant hotel in Aruba sound like a dump.

“And you are here to tell us something?” Desi tried to return her to the point.

“Oh, yes, the message is that Lily’s apartment has been searched by the current enemy. Vincent was off duty, so they used a glamour to get by the mortal doorman. We have no idea what they were looking for. Nothing was taken.”

“Shouldn’t you tell that to Lily first? Or privately?” Sybil stood up for me.

“Eros is the head of the investigation. I thought it important that you all know and that you are aware that your apartments could be searched.”

“And you came all the way here to tell us that?” Eros asked. I couldn’t tell whether Eros was shocked by what had happened or that Azoked had used that bit of information as a way to get down to Aruba in February, and get Satan to spring for the Royal Sonesta for the ride.

“There is one more thing,” the Librarian said, looking extremely pleased with herself. “I have found the information on Craig Branford, Nathan Coleman’s missing pharmacist. It appears that he has some ties to the Knight Defenders, or at least to Lewis Taggart, and might possibly be the organizer. He disappeared from his cruise in Mexico, but on Friday he showed up here in Aruba.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. This was interesting, and possibly important, but I didn’t see why it was necessary to have the information now. He couldn’t have followed us; he’d been on a cruise to Mexico and we only made these plans on Monday. We didn’t even know we’d be going away, let alone where. “Is this just a coincidence?” I asked, wondering aloud. I couldn’t see how it could be anything but coincidence, but it looked very odd to me.

“Now that is the odd thing about it,” Azoked said, practically licking her whiskers with glee. “We, that is to say Satan and myself, think that he was probably tipped off.”

“Which sounds like an inside job.”

Azoked looked almost disappointed. “I have checked on who could have known, and it is a very short list indeed. Unless your e-mail or phone was compromised? How did they contact you to set up your dinner?” the Librarian asked Margit.

“I’m certain it was e-mail,” Margit said.

Azoked gave both of us her professional librarian glare of disapproval. “I am not a specialist on computer security, but even children know that e-mail is not secure. And it can easily go astray and people can hack into your account.”

“And cell phones aren’t secure either,” I agreed. “Or landline phones. And hey, if it comes down to it, people have been reading other people’s mail for centuries. No, I did not want to use the magical pathways to set up a dinner among friends. Not that even the old-style MagicMirror is secure. There are plenty of magicians who can trace the etheric remains of a conversation. But I’m not going to stop talking to people.

“Besides,” I added, thinking rapidly, “it might not have been me. Any one of us could have had our e-mail hacked. We all got confirmations from the travel agent. Maybe someone got into the agency records.” I looked around at all of them and returned to Azoked’s immobile face. “Don’t pin it on me because I sent a private e-mail to an old friend asking if we could get together for dinner.”

“I think we can be pretty sure it wasn’t just a random human.” Eros stood up for me. “Or a hacker.”

“Why not?” Sybil asked. “Why couldn’t it have been one of the Burning Men?”

Eros shook her head. “Maybe it could have been, but they would still have to know who we are online. They knew our addresses, about our brunch—they know too much about us. I’d bet that they didn’t have to go after the information. I think they’re being told.”

That made sense. Only a demon privy to our plans could have given the information, and there were a finite number of them. The humans in this case were pawns; the real problem was that a demon wanted to use us for—well, certainly advancement. But precisely how?

As I contemplated the problem, I asked Margit if I could use her computer. I signed on to my e-mail just to check and clean out the spam. After a few days away it was often hard to find the actual e-mail I wanted to read among the pseudo-bank phishing, advertisements for Rolex watches and penis enlargers.

There were two e-mails from Nathan, one saying that he knew I was away and hoped that I was having a fun time, and he looked forward to seeing me when I got back. The second one was also decidedly cheerful, with a link to a notice about a very trendy book promotion at a club back in Williamsburg. Why did he keep suggesting places in Williamsburg? Still, it did look like a fun event and it was the week after next. I could certainly consider it.

Which brought me to the question of telling him about Branford. Who was here, at least for a few days. I didn’t know if Nathan was still on the case, if the wife was willing to pay to actually apprehend the guy. (And do PIs do that, anyway? Didn’t she just need to know where he was, or that he’d skipped the country or whatever?) Would he come down here? That would be nice. But I had a date with Marten for tomorrow evening. Would I break the date with Marten for Nathan?

And then I had to consider the ugly possibility that Nathan was the link between his missing person and my plans. Nathan knew that I was going to Aruba. He had a picture of this guy—and it was only his word that the pharmacist was actually missing. Maybe it was all a story and Nathan Coleman was really the head of the Knight Defenders and had sent Branford down here.

I was being paranoid. But with people like that hunting me, I thought it was reasonable. They’d been in my apartment. They’d been through my things. I’d have to send everything out to be cleaned. The thought of those self-righteous prigs putting their paws on my La Perlas was enough to make me explode.

They’d used a glamour to get through. Suddenly that fact became very important. Who could use a glamour? Burning Men found magic anathema. They wouldn’t touch it. Suddenly my head hurt.

“Lily, are you getting anything useful?” Desi yelled in at me.

Then I saw she was in the doorway watching me. I shook my head and started to tremble. “What’s the matter?” she asked as she put her arms around me and rocked gently.

I told her about my fears about Nathan and my own worries that the Burning Men might have left booby traps in the apartments. If that’s who they were. I told her my fears about the glamour. But mostly I couldn’t tell her that it was the feeling of being violated, knowing that strangers had been in my apartment, that it wasn’t safely, entirely mine.

“Let’s look at the rest of the e-mail,” Desi suggested. “Let’s see if there’s anything from anyone else in the Hierarchy. I’m sure the Enforcers at least will go through the place before we get back. And while they’re pretty stupid, I’m sure they’d manage to set off whatever trap there is. And look, here’s something from Vincent.”

She clicked on the doorman’s e-mail, which reassured me that he had searched my apartment and Sybil’s both very thoroughly and had found nothing that could hurt us.

Of course, you will need to go through and make certain that nothing was taken. The place was in perfect condition when I entered and I could find no obvious signs of intrusion, but then I don’t know where and precisely how you keep everything. And I have taken the liberty of sending out all your clothes to your dry cleaners. I hope that was the appropriate action.

Satan bless Vincent! I almost wept from relief.

“I just wish it were Beliel and his boys handling things, and not those idiot Enforcers,” Eros groused.

Truth is, Eros is vaguely friendly with Beliel from what I can gather, and that makes me uncomfortable. Back when the big split came between the incubi and succubi, Beliel supported the incubi and has had a good number of them in Security ever since. Not one single succubus has ever been allowed to join. Maybe Beliel has nothing to do with the anti-succubus feelings among our male counterparts, but it still makes me uneasy when she mentions him—and her friendship with him.

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Desi said. “So we might as well go out and enjoy our dinner with Margit and drink a lot, and you can continue to seduce that very pretty Dutch boy and I need to snag a conquest or two of my own before we go home. I don’t know why that nasty Bast demon showed up here anyway. It isn’t like any of this is useful to us. We can’t do anything in New York now. Vincent is dealing with things there. The only thing she did was spoil our vacation, and I’m not letting her do that.”

Desi had a point. There wasn’t anything we could do about the break-in back home. So what had been Azoked’s purpose? Had she done it just to get the boondoggle trip? Surely she can visit where she chooses, and she must have access to enough money for a comfortable trip anywhere she chose.

On the other hand, she was enough of a priss that she probably wouldn’t spend a dime herself if she thought she could get Satan to spring.

Desi was right. There was nothing I could do about New York. But I could decide to enjoy my last days on Aruba, have fun with Marten and not think about Nathan and the whole mess back home. Or I could sit around and cry and be miserable and obsess about Nathan and I still wouldn’t get anything done except ruin the holiday.

I am an immortal and I’ve learned to live in the moment most of the time. I can concentrate on the here and now far more effectively than most mortals. Now was certainly the time to use this skill, to lose myself in what pleasures Aruba had and exist entirely within the moment. No thought of the future or past should interfere with these few days when I could rest without being pursued by Burning Men. If Marten was part of that package, so much the better.

“Indonesian food?” I asked, hoping I sounded as strong as I would like to feel.

We went out for
rijstaffel
at a pleasant restaurant just a block off the main street of Oranjestad, which made it only about two or three blocks from the Royal Sonesta. Of course, in Oranjestad nothing is more than a few blocks from the central square and the beach. And the town itself is a little too clean, a little too cheerful, a little too carefully groomed. All the sidewalks are swept all the time and there is no trace of trash. Very Dutch, one could say, along with the brilliant orange, green, and blue decoration on the columns along the street and the crisp awnings over the shops. All I could think of was Main Street in the Magic Kingdom.

The real people, the poor people who work as maids and dishwashers in the resorts on the beach mostly live in a city at the south end of the island where tourists don’t go. It’s not as safe or pleasant or clean as Oranjestad, and there are only a few fancy shops to cater to the cruise passengers who spend a few hours on shore while the ships take on fresh water and produce.

We were at the restaurant in less than five minutes. An Indonesian lady in an elegant pink silk dress greeted us at the door, the walls were papered in a woven grass, our table had orchids, and the food was delicious, full of coconut milk and peanuts and subtle spices that teased but never overwhelmed the food. We ate. I ate almost too much, savoring all the nuances of a cuisine that I didn’t often experience.

“And how do you find our One Happy Island?” Margit asked as we licked dessert custard off our spoons. “You are all having successful hunts, I hope.”

“Oh yes,” Desi assured her. “Really, if you are the only lust demon here you must be completely overwhelmed.”

Margit shrugged her perfectly tanned shoulders. “I have tried many times to convince our sisters that they would find all these islands very rich indeed.”

It was nice to just relax with the ladies, not to think about any of the more threatening matters. Even Azoked behaved decently, bringing up the new Sonia Rykiel fashion book. Too soon it was time for us to head back up the beach. Margit had plans for later in the evening, and truth be told, so did we. Well, at least I knew that I did. Marten would be waiting for me at the hotel, and while I had dressed nicely for dinner I wanted time to change into something just a little more smashing for my date.