Succubus Revealed (5 page)

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Authors: Richelle Mead

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Succubus Revealed
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I scoffed. “Not in this mall. There’s a sandwich place we can go to.”
“Sandwich place” wasn’t entirely accurate. They also sold gourmet soups and salads, all of which were made fresh and packed with enough prissy ingredients to make Ian happy. Hugh and I snagged a table, my appearance gaining the attention of some children there with their parents. I ignored them as I leaned toward Hugh.
“What’s up, then, if not the phantom transfer?”
He eyed the watchers uneasily and took several moments to begin speaking. “I was calling around today, trying to work connections and see if I could find out anything about you. Like I said, I couldn’t. But I got caught up on all sorts of other gossip.”
I was kind of surprised Hellish gossip was what he wanted to discuss, more surprised still that it had apparently warranted him coming in person. If he’d heard a rumor about a mutual friend, it seemed like a phone call would’ve sufficed to pass the news. Even e-mail or text.
“Do you remember Milton?” he asked.
“Milton?” I stared blankly. The name meant nothing to me.
“Nosferatu,” he prompted.
Still nothing, and then—
“Oh. Yeah. Him. The vampire.” A month or so ago, Milton had visited on vacation, much to Cody and Peter’s dismay. Vampires were territorial and didn’t like outsiders, although Cody had been able to use Milton’s presence to impress his macabre loving girlfriend, Gabrielle. Or so I’d heard. “I never actually saw him. I just knew he was in town.”
“Yup, and it turns out last week, he was in Boulder.”
“So?”
“So, first of all, it’s weird that he’d have two ‘vacations’ in that short time. I mean, you know how it is for vampires. You know how it is for all of us.”
It was true. Hell didn’t like to give us vacations very often. When your employers owned your soul, they really didn’t feel any need to make your life pleasant. That wasn’t to say we didn’t occasionally get time off, but it certainly wasn’t a priority for Hell. The business of souls never rested. For vampires, this was doubly true because they didn’t like to leave their territory. They also had various complications with traveling, say, like with sunlight.
“Okay, so, it’s weird. How does that affect us?”
Hugh dropped his voice low. “When he was in Boulder, a local dark shaman died under mysterious circumstances.”
I felt my eyebrows rise. “And you think Milton was involved ?”
“Well, like I said, I had time to make some calls and do some research today. And it turns out that even though he’s based in Raleigh, Milton travels an awful lot for a vampire—and every place he goes, some mortal in the supernatural community ends up dead.”
“You’re saying he’s an assassin,” I said, intrigued but still not seeing the point. As part of “the great game” we all played, angels and demons weren’t supposed to directly influence mortal lives. That’s where lesser immortals came in, with our offers of sin and temptation. Now, we weren’t really supposed to kill either, as far as the game went, and we certainly weren’t supposed to do it on behalf of a greater immortal’s instructions. We all knew it happened, however, and Milton wasn’t the first assassin I’d heard of taking out inconvenient mortals.
“Exactly,” said Hugh. He frowned. “He goes to places, and people disappear.”
“How does that affect us?”
Hugh sighed. “Georgina, he was
here
.”
“Yeah, but nobody—” I gasped, freezing a moment in shock. “Erik . . .”
The world reeled around me for a moment. I was no longer in an elite mall’s food court but instead was looking down on the broken, bleeding body of one of the kindest men I knew. Erik had been a longtime friend in Seattle, using his many years of occult and supernatural knowledge to advise me on my problems. He’d been investigating my contract with Hell when a freak robbery at his store had resulted in his death by gunshot.
“Are you saying . . .” My voice was barely a whisper. “Are you saying Milton killed Erik?”
Hugh shook his head sadly. “I’m not. I’m just laying out the evidence for you, which is compelling—but not enough to form a hard link to Milton.”
“Then why tell me at all?” I asked. “You don’t like to get involved with anything that questions the status quo.” It was true, and it had been a constant point of contention with Hugh and me.
“I don’t,” he said. I understood now why he was so uneasy. “Not at all. But I care about you, sweetheart. And I know you cared about Erik and wanted answers.”
“Key word:
wanted
. I thought I had them.” My heart still mourned Erik, but I had begun to heal from his loss, moving on with life the way we all must after losing a loved one. Knowing—or, well, thinking—he’d been killed in a robbery didn’t exactly give me peace, but it did provide an explanation. If there was any shred of truth to Hugh’s dangerous theory, that Milton—a potential assassin—might have been responsible, then my whole world was suddenly knocked offkilter. And in that scenario, the big issue wasn’t that Milton had done it. What became important was
why
he had done it. Because if he was one of those Hellish assassins lurking in the shadows, then someone higher up had given him his orders, meaning Hell had a reason to want Erik dead.
“You okay?” Hugh’s hand on mine made me jump. “Jesus, Georgina. You’re like ice.”
“I’m kind of in shock,” I said. “This is big, Hugh. Huge.”
“I know,” he said, not sounding happy at all. “Promise me you won’t do anything foolish. I’m still not sure I should have told you.”
“You should have,” I said, squeezing his hand and making no such promises about the foolish part. “Thank you.”
I had to leave shortly thereafter, returning to assist Happy. A little of her zeal about the pure, magical nature of children had faded in that time. I think it was the six-year-old who asked for a nose job that might have cracked her. As for me, I was in a daze, stunned over what Hugh had told me. Erik murdered. His dying words to me had implied something more was going on, but there’d been no evidence to prove it. Or wait . . . was there? I vaguely remembered the glass pattern of his broken window, the suspicion from the police that it had been broken from within. But what did I do with this theory? How did I get the answers I needed?
Equally amazing to me was the concession Hugh had made in telling me this. He valued his job and his comfortable position. He really wasn’t the type to try to upset Hell or ask questions about things that didn’t concern him. Yet he’d pursued his hunch about Milton and passed on the news to me, his friend. Hell made desperate, soulless creatures out of its employees—and most certainly liked it that way—but I doubted any of the higher-ups had imagined the levels of friendship we were still capable of managing.
Naturally, only one other thing could have distracted me from this new development, and that was Jerome’s presence in my condo later that night. I was returning home after work and sensed his aura coming from within as soon as I put my key to the door. My fears and theorizing about Erik and Milton moved to one part of my brain, replaced by all the old speculation about the mystery transfer.
When I entered, I found Jerome sitting in the living room with Roman, both at their ease and barely acknowledging my presence.
“And so,” Jerome was saying, “that’s why you need to do this. As soon as possible. Nanette’s people have been at it for a long time, so you’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Set up a schedule—I don’t care how rigorous it is—and make those slackers start putting in their time at the alley.”
I stared incredulously. “You’re here about the bowling competition?”
Both men looked at me, Jerome seeming irritated at the interruption. “Of course. The sooner you start practicing, the better.”
“You know what else might be better the sooner it happens ?” I produced the well-worn HR memo with a flourish. “You telling me if I’m being transferred or not. My money’s on it being a mistake because surely,
surely
you wouldn’t put off telling me. Right?”
Several heartbeats of silence hung in the room. Jerome held me in his dark, dark gaze, and I refused to look away. At last, he said, “No. It’s real. You’re being transferred.”
My jaw wanted to drop to the ground. “Then why . . . why am I only just now hearing about it?”
He sighed and made an impatient gesture. “Because
I
just found out about it. Someone jumped the gun and delivered the memo to you before telling me.” His eyes glinted. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t too thrilled about that myself. I made sure they know my feelings on the matter.”
“But I . . .” I swallowed. “I was so sure there was a mistake. . . ”
“There was,” he agreed. “Just not the kind you were thinking of.”
I wanted to sink to the floor and melt away but forced myself to stay strong. I had to ask the next most important question, the question that would shape the next phase of my life.
“Where . . . where am I going?”
Jerome studied me once again, this time I think just to drag out the suspense and agony. Bastard. At last, he spoke.
“You’re going to Las Vegas, Georgie.”
Chapter 5
 
I
’d been bracing myself for “Cleveland” or “Guam.” I was too much of a pessimist to think I might be offered something even moderately appealing. If I was already going through the trauma of leaving Seattle, then surely it would be for somewhere terrible.
“Did you say Las Vegas?” I asked, sinking down onto my couch. Immediately, I guessed the catch. “Ah. It’s not Las Vegas, Nevada, right? It’s a different Las Vegas. New Mexico ? Or some other continent?”
“Sorry to disappoint you and your martyr fantasies, Georgie.” Jerome lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “It’s Las Vegas, Nevada. I think you even know the archdemon there—Luis. Isn’t he a friend of yours?”
I blinked. “Luis? Yeah. I mean, in as much as an archdemon can be.” That got a small smile from Jerome, though I only barely noticed. I had worked for Luis a long time ago, and if I had to be honest, he was probably my favorite boss of all time. That wasn’t to say Jerome was a terrible one, but Luis—while strict—still had an easy way about him that could sometimes make you forget you were damned for all eternity. “So . . . my orders are to go to Las Vegas and work for Luis.”
“Yes,” said Jerome.
I looked back at him from where I’d been staring vacantly out the window. “Is there any way to change that? To stop it? Isn’t there anything I can do to just stay here? And are you
sure
it’s not a mistake—what with the delivery mix-up?”
Jerome’s dark eyebrows rose. It was one of those rare moments when he’d been caught off-guard enough to display surprise. “You don’t want to go? I mean, I’m flattered you’d want to stay under my rule, but I’d think you would be pleased with this situation. Las Vegas is perfect for a half-ass succubus like you.”
I ignored the jab—though he had a point. Las Vegas was such a breeding ground for sin and salvation that it was nearly packed to bursting with servants of both Heaven and Hell. It probably had one of the highest concentrations of succubi in the world, meaning it was easy to slide by with quotas. Here, I was the only succubus, so my number of corrupted souls was scrutinized heavily. In Las Vegas, there’d be plenty of go-getter succubi to cover for slackers like me.
“It’s not about you,” I said slowly. “It’s about . . . Seth.”
Jerome sighed loudly and stamped out his cigarette on my coffee table. I supposed I should be glad it wasn’t my couch or carpet. “Of course it is. Because in the grand scheme of the universe, your boyfriend is important enough to make Hell’s HR change their minds about a re-org. Come on, Georgie. How naive are you? How many transfers have you had over the years? Or perhaps I should ask, how many transfers do you know of that were cancelled because someone ‘didn’t feel like it’?”
“None,” I admitted. At most, Hell would take unhappy employees into account and move them out of places they weren’t being productive. I had requested transfers before and gotten a couple of them. But once HR made up its mind? That was it. The cold truth of this, that it wasn’t a mistake and that I couldn’t stop it, was beginning to wrap around me. I tried to make sense of it another way. “But why? Why did they decide to this? I’ve been a good employee. . . .” Yet, even as I spoke, I grew uncertain. Jerome looked at me knowingly.
“Have you?”
“I haven’t been a bad employee,” I amended. “Not exactly.”
“This isn’t a game. We don’t want mediocre employees who can keep the status quo. We want souls. We want to
win
. And you’ve spent most of your time here being mediocre. Don’t glare at me like that. You know I’m right. You’ve had fits and starts of productivity, the most notable being when you were under duress. Even that’s been inconsistent.” I’d made a bargain with Jerome a year ago, in which I’d behaved like a model succubus for a while. After I’d helped rescue him from summoning, there’d been an unspoken acceptance of me slacking off once again without getting any grief from him. “If you’d thrived here and turned over large amounts of souls, I doubt you’d be leaving. So, if you’re looking for someone to blame, look in the mirror.”
“You sure sound smug about this,” I pointed out petulantly. “Like you’re happy about it.”
“Happy? Happy about the gamble of getting a new employee—or of inheriting Tawny permanently? Hardly. But unlike you, I accept that my happiness means nothing to my superiors. The only thing that matters is me following their orders.” His tone and expression clearly said that the same was true for me.
I almost never held back from sparring with Jerome, but today I did. Why? Because there was nothing I could say, no bargain I could make with him. I’d negotiated a number of favors and allowances in my years with him, things specifically pertaining to my existence here within Seattle. That was his domain. But the rest of the world? That was out of his control. There was nothing he could do to change this reassignment, even if he wanted to. There was nothing I could do either. You just couldn’t fight against some things. Hell was one of them. When I’d signed my soul away, I’d signed away control of my eternity to them as well.
“It’s not fair.” Guessing Jerome’s snappy retort, I quickly added, “I know, you don’t have to say it. Life isn’t fair. I get it. But it’s just . . . it’s just cruel. Seth and I finally managed a working relationship. And now I have to leave him.”
Jerome shook his head, and I could tell by his restless stance that he was ready to go. His patience with this conversation was running thin.
“You know, I might miss some of your witticisms when you’re gone, but one thing I won’t miss? Your overwhelming sense of melodrama and despair. It’s too much even for me.”
The sorrow and self-pity within me transformed to anger. “I’m sorry, but this is serious to me! How can I not be upset? I love Seth. I don’t want to leave him.”
“So don’t. Take him with you. Or date long distance. I honestly don’t give a fuck, so long as you stop your whining. How can you not see solutions here? You’ve apparently decided that you being immortal isn’t a deterrent to your great love . . . but a two-hour plane ride is?”
I felt kind of cowed. Normally, I resented Jerome for mocking me when I was upset because I blamed it on his lack of empathy. But now, I had to admit that maybe he was onto something about me being overly melodramatic. Why couldn’t I take Seth with me? If Seth really loved me, a move shouldn’t be a problem. And of all the jobs in the world, he had one of the best suited for a change of venue. Unfortunately, it was a bit more complicated than that. I sighed.
“I don’t know if he would. His family’s here, and his sister-in-law’s sick. He can’t leave them anytime soon. . . .”
Jerome shrugged. “We’re back to the part where I don’t give a fuck. I do, however, care that you go there to visit sooner rather than later. Luis asked if I’d send you down in advance to scope out the area for a couple of days. Seeing as bowling practice doesn’t start until Monday, I can’t help but think this weekend would be an excellent time to get that out of the way. I’m happy to oblige him—but not at the cost of interfering with my team.”
“Really?” I scoffed. “You expect me to care about bowling in light of all this?”
He gave me a thin-lipped smile. “Seeing as you’re still my employee for the next four weeks, yes. I expect you to care about it immensely.” He glanced over at Roman, who had observed all of this silently. “And I expect you to come up with an excellent training regimen for them. I’ll see you both then.”
Jerome vanished in a poof of smoke, further verifying how self-satisfied he felt about all of this. Losing me might be inconvenient for him, but I think his demon nature still took some delight in seeing the torment of others.
I covered my eyes and rolled over to lie flat on the couch. “Oh God. What am I going to do? This can’t be happening.”
Breaking up with Seth last year had torn my heart apart. I had wanted to die. Being reunited with him had felt like being born anew. I’d loved life, even my damned one. Now I was starting to feel that terrible, aching desperation again. It wasn’t possible that someone could go through so many extreme ups and downs in so short a time span.
Welcome to being in love
, I thought.
I felt Roman sit down by my feet. A moment later, both cats joined us. I uncovered my eyes and found his sea green ones staring down at me. “He wasn’t exactly tactful, but I have to admit he had a point. Why wouldn’t Seth just move with you?”
“Under normal circumstances . . .” I had to pause in order to not start laughing. Our circumstances were
never
normal. “Under normal circumstances, he would. But like I was saying, with Andrea, I don’t even think he can. And honestly, I wouldn’t want him to.” I didn’t realize that was true until I spoke the words. If Seth dropped everything to run off with me, he would be hurting both himself and his family for my sake. I could never allow that. My heart sank. “I can’t believe this. How could this have come about so quickly? I was so happy.”
Roman scratched Aubrey’s head and leaned back. “That’s an excellent question. This was all kind of sudden. Is that how it normally is?”
“Well, I mean, we never get much warning of transfers. Sometimes you know a re-org is coming. Sometimes you get one after requesting a transfer. Usually, though, someone has a meeting, plans your fate, and you find out about it later. The only weird thing here was Jerome apparently having less notice than me.”
Roman had been staring at the ceiling and then snapped his head back to look at me. I flinched under the intensity of his gaze. “Explain that again. What happened and what was unusual.”
I started to tell him I’d just explained it but instead swallowed off any sharp retort, knowing he wasn’t the true source of my irritation. “Normally, your archdemon meets with you to tell you the details, and then the letter with the transfer date follows. This happened so fast that I got the letter before Jerome had a chance to talk to me.”
“Hell doesn’t do things without a reason.” He reconsidered. “Well, impromptu bowling competitions aside. But they like their bureaucracy, their paperwork, and all their details in order. Even if they quickly decided to do a transfer, they’d still follow all their inane procedures. For the letter to have jumped ahead of Jerome getting his instructions, things must have been seriously expedited. The question: why? Why such a rush to get you out of Seattle?”
I couldn’t help a smile. “You’re looking for a conspiracy here. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think this sucks. It’s terrible. But I don’t think there’s anything more to it than what Jerome said about me skimping at my job. Which . . . well, which is my fault.”
“Yes, but Hell deals with bad employees all the time. They go through reams of procedure to figure out the best way to deal with those people. Pop might be right that Hell can’t tolerate mediocre workers, but it’s not to the extent that they have to deal with it
right that second
. What’s so special about you that someone would suddenly decide to initiate a hasty transfer?”
I appreciated that Roman was trying to help me, but I didn’t want to get caught up in what could easily become an obsessive quest for him. Nephilim had serious grudges with Heaven and Hell and were always looking for ways to challenge and thwart them. Roman himself had once gone on a killing spree of higher immortals. There was something in his nature that wanted there to be more than bad luck here, but I just wasn’t sure I believed there was.
Carter’s words echoed in my head, no matter how much I tried to shrug them off:
If there’s a reason, it’s because you’ve been doing something Hell doesn’t want you to do.
“You should talk to Carter,” I muttered. “He’s certain there’s a reason too.” Seeing Roman’s expectant look, I halfheartedly tried to humor him. “I don’t know what it could be. Maybe because I got captured by Oneroi? Maybe they’re worried I’m unstable or something. Or that this isn’t a safe place for me.”
Roman nodded along with my words. “That does make you special. However, if I was worried about an employee losing it, I’d want to keep them in a place where I knew they felt stable. I’m sure Hell knows you’re happy here, and if anything, they might think that experience bound you to Jerome more closely. They’d want to encourage that loyalty.”
“Hell doesn’t need to encourage loyalty,” I told him. “All they care about is that I signed my soul over to them. That’s bigger than loyalty.”
A startled look crossed his face. “That
is
all they care about. Georgina, when did this happen? Exactly when did this happen?”
“Er, the letter?”
There was a fanatic look in his eyes. No question. He was getting obsessed. “Yes.”
“This morning. It showed up at Seth’s. I sensed the courier and woke up to it.”
“You were at Seth’s. What were you doing at the time? What were you doing just before then?” He’d stopped petting Aubrey, and she slithered toward me in a huff, seeking a more attentive audience. “Walk me backward from that point.”
“Well, like I said, I was sleeping. Before that . . .” I winced, remembering getting into bed with Ian. “I met Seth’s mom and younger brother. Before that, I was at Peter’s fondue party. Before that, I was at the mall—”
“Peter’s. Tell me about Peter’s. Did anything weird happen to you there?”

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