Succubs on Top Page 0,97

made me pause. "What's wrong?"

Dominique was small and blond, with an almost waifish appearance that made her look like she wasn't getting enough to eat. That wasn't a surprise, however. None of us in that profession ever got enough to eat.

"Josephine..." she murmured, blue eyes wide. "I need your help. I think...I think I'm pregnant."

I stopped in my tracks. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I...I don't know what to do. I need this job. You know I do."

I nodded. From the wings, Jean - the man who took cuts from our liaisons - yelled at me to hurry up and meet my young man. I gave Dominique a quick hug.

"I have to go do this. I'll find you later, okay? We'll figure something out."

But I never really got a later. The young man, Etienne, proved to be adorable. He was much younger than my apparent age, and engaged to be married. He was torn on the issue of sex. Part of him felt he needed to be pure for his bride; the other part wanted to be experienced on his wedding night. That was the part that won out, the part that brought him to my bed and gave me the succubus bonus of both a moral corruption and an energy yield.

He resented me for both my lifestyle and my hold over him, but that didn't stop him from coming back every day for the next few weeks.

"I hate you for this," he told me one day after we'd been together. He lay back against the sheets, in a sweaty, postcoital repose. I stood near the bed, putting my clothes on while he watched. "Marry me."

I laughed out loud, tossing my hair - then honey blond and curly - over one shoulder.

He flushed angrily. He had dark eyes and hair and a perennially brooding look. "Is that funny?"

"Only because you hate me in one breath and love me in the other." I smiled as I laced up my undergarments. "I suppose there are a lot of marriages like that."

"Not everything's a joke," he said.

"Maybe not," I agreed. "But this comes pretty close."

"Are you turning me down?"

I pulled my dress over my head. "Of course I am. You have no idea what you're asking. It's ridiculous."

"You treat me like I'm a child sometimes," he declared, sitting up straighten "You're not that much older than me. You have no right to act so wise...especially since you're a..."

I grinned at him. "A whore?" He had the grace to look embarrassed. "And that, sweeting, is the problem. Never mind your family's scandalized reaction. Even if we managed to pull it off, you'd never get over that. You'd spend the rest of our marriage - which would probably be short-lived - obsessing about all the men I'd been with. Wondering if one of them had been better. Wondering if I'd done something with them that you thought was new and novel with you."

Angry, he stood up and pulled on his pants. "I would have thought you'd be grateful."

"Flattered," I said coldly, "but nothing more."

That wasn't entirely true. The truth was, despite his youthful certainty and mood swings, I liked Etienne. A lot. Something about him appealed to me. Maybe it was because all that emotionality and pride came from an artistic nature. He painted as a hobby. There it was again, my unfortunate obsession with creative men. Luckily, at that time in my life, I had enough sense to avoid deep entanglements with humans.

"I wish you could choose who you love," he said bitterly. "Because I wouldn't choose you, you know. But, here we are. I can't stop thinking about you. I feel like there's some pull to you I can't fight."

"I'm sorry," I said gently, surprised at the small ache in my heart. "Wait until you're married. Your wife will make you forget all about me."

"No. She doesn't even compare."

"Plain?" Egotistical of me, perhaps, but I heard it a lot.

"Boring," he replied.

Then I'd heard a scream, a bloodcurdling, horror-filled scream. I forgot all about Etienne and tore out of the small, dank room. Down the hall I ran until I found a congregation of people and the source of distress.

It was Dominique. She sprawled over a narrow pallet, lying in blood. "My God," I gasped, kneeling beside her. "What happened?"

But I already knew. I didn't need the forthcoming explanation from the other dancers. I had neglected her pleas for help a couple weeks ago, caught up in my own whirlwind romance. So she had sought