Succubus Dreams Page 0,21

cut to the satin sheath I still had on from the ballet. Unlike mine, hers was made of spandex - what was it with her and that fabric anyway? - and about six inches shorter. Mine also fit.

"Why so glum?" I asked, hoping the others would find someone else to obsess on.

Her lower lip trembled, either from sadness or an inability to hold its own massive collagen-filled weight. "I still haven't, you know..."

It was enough to allay my own distress. It also meant Niphon was still in town, as I'd suspected upon seeing her. "How? How is that possible?"

She shrugged and leaned forward wretchedly, her elbows resting on knees that were spread open guy-style. With grace like that, no wonder she couldn't get laid.

I waved my hand around us. "Well, go out there, young succubus. This place is a buffet. Grab a plate and take your pick."

"Oh, yeah, like it's that easy."

"It is that easy. You might not be up to scoring a priest or anything, but you can definitely get some sort of fix."

"Maybe you can. I don't...I don't really know what to say to them."

I honestly couldn't believe this conversation was happening. It was weirder than me trying to convince Dante I was a succubus. Maddie had trouble talking to guys too, but a giant, crazily proportioned blonde throwing herself at men could get someone to sleep with her. It was a basic law of the universe.

"Well...if you really don't know what to say, just try going up and asking them if they want to have sex. Crass, but it'll probably work for someone."

She scoffed. "Right. That's all there is to it."

"That is all there is to it," I said. Hugh returned from the bathroom, and I glanced over at him. "You want to go have sex?"

He didn't even blink. "Sure. Let me pay my bill."

I turned back to Tawny. "See?"

"Wait," said Hugh, one hand on his coat. "Was that a joke?"

"You were an instructive example," Peter explained.

"Fuck."

Tawny shook her head, tousled blond curls fluttering. "I can't do that."

"Oh my God." I resisted rubbing my eyes, lest I muss the makeup. "Tawny, this isn't rocket science."

"Weren't you telling us how hard it was to do your job, back when your incubus buddy was around?" asked Peter. My friend Bastien's recent visit had elicited a veritable cheerleading squad of admirers for him and what my male friends deemed "the hardest job ever."

"Shut up," I snapped. "You're ruining my mentoring."

"I don't want a bad one," Tawny said petulantly. "I want to corrupt a good one. One that'll give me lots of energy."

"Start small. Don't worry about the good ones when you probably can't even pick them out in the first place."

"How do you find one?"

"It's an art. One you'll learn. I'm telling you, though, just start small."

I did give her a few pointers, recalling my alleged role as mentor. We studied some of the men in the bar, spotting wedding rings and one bachelor party. A guy about to get married was a really nice hit. I also advised on demeanor, how a quiet man was often (but certainly not always) a better bet than a loud, obnoxious one - if you were going for good ones. Of course, serial killers tended to be quiet too. Really, it came down to reading people, which wasn't a skill she could learn overnight. Keeping this in mind, I tried to reiterate how she should just try easy fixes for now.

"I really like how you've got the entire male population pegged," said Peter when I'd finished lecturing. "I'm glad you don't believe in stereotyping or anything."

I shrugged. "I've been doing this for a while."

"Okay, prove it," said Hugh. He and I were at about equal levels of intoxication now. "Find three decent souls in here."

I grinned. Imps could gauge the strength and goodness of a person's soul with a glance. Accepting the challenge, I scanned for a long time. When I picked my three, he shook his head.

"You got two out of three. The two that are right are really good. The one you got wrong is pretty bad. At least you're dealing in extremes."

Tawny moaned. "You see? This is hard."

"For Christ's sake," I exclaimed, finishing another gimlet. "It's not. Not in the rookie leagues you're playing in. Look, you want a tip? Go get a job that gives you easy access."

"I am not going to go stand on a corner," she said huffily.

"Then go...I don't know. Go to Hugh's date auction." The