Succubus Dreams Page 0,56

it's here now, urging you to jump me?"

"Sorry."

"Ah, well. I'm probably not as good a catch as Seventeen-hundred-dollar Man. Your predator has standards."

I shuddered, hating the idea that I actually had a predator. I looked up at Dante and must have looked truly pathetic because a startled look crossed his features.

"Dante, you have to help me. I know we don't have the answers yet...but, well, I'm scared of this thing. I can't bring myself to take a victim because I'm afraid of this monster coming back. I don't even want to go to sleep."

His gray eyes assessed me, and to my astonishment, he almost looked gentle. It completely transformed him. "Ah, succubus. You can sleep tonight. No energy, no visit. I doubt the kiss was enough of a lure."

"But eventually...eventually I'll have to get another fix...and until I'm able to talk to Jerome about all this..."

"Well, I could maybe make you a charm or something. Protection to ward this thing away."

"You can do that?" I tried to keep the skepticism out of my voice but failed. His face turned wry once more.

"If you don't want the help..."

"No! I do. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. I asked for your help, then backed off."

"Well, as you said, I haven't inspired much faith in you."

"I'll take whatever help I can get," I said honestly.

He stood up and stretched, then walked over to his shelves, studying their contents. "You sure about that? You might not like what I have to do to make this. How badly do you want it?"

I thought about that voice, that creature's need inside my head. "Pretty badly. Provided you don't, like, give me a necklace made out of goat entrails, I think we're good."

His eyes were still on his shelves and jars. Several moments passed while he considered. "I'm going to need some time on this, I'm afraid. It'd be a lot easier if I knew what it was we're dealing with. Without that, I've got to try to make some sort of catch-all charm that may or may not work. The broad spectrum ones are always hard, too."

"So nothing tonight."

He strolled back over to me. "You're fine tonight, remember? Of course, you're welcome to stay here, and I'll stay awake and make sure nothing happens to you."

I couldn't help a smile. "Just like Kayla."

"Who?"

"My boyfriend's niece..." I'd nearly forgotten about our weird conversation. "She said some funny things. But I don't know if it was just kid imaginings or if she maybe has some kind of psychic ability."

"Fine line with kids," he said. "If she has any powers, I'm sure science and discipline will work them out of her. What'd she say?"

"She said that I was 'magic.' And that there were monsters in the air who got into people's dreams." When he didn't respond, I exclaimed, "Do you think she could help with this?"

He shook his head. "No. If she is psychic or gifted or whatever, she's too young and inexperienced to know what she's perceiving to be of any real use."

"But she could be sensing what's following me."

"Sure. If she's a really astute psychic, she'd be sensitive to anomalies in the magical and spiritual worlds."

Interesting. Tiny little Kayla, possibly with the potential for great spiritual powers some day. "What's your advice?"

"Huh?" he asked.

"For someone like her. To develop her abilities and make sure science and discipline don't beat it out of her."

"My advice?" He gave a harsh laugh. "Let them beat it out of her. You'll be doing her a favor."

I sat quietly for a long time, studying my feet. When I finally looked back up at him, I asked, "Why are you so unhappy?"

"Who says I'm unhappy? I make money by doing nothing."

I gestured around. "Everything says you're unhappy. Your attitude. Your arm. The pile of beer bottles over there. The fact that even though you claim I annoy you, you keep helping me and always seem glad to have me around."

"Misery loves company. You aren't exactly all that chipper yourself."

"I'm very happy with my life," I argued.

"Well, then, go back to it, and let me sleep." In a not too subtle signal, he walked over to the door and opened it. "I'll work on your charm and get back to you."

I started to snap back at the abrupt dismissal, but he looked so weary, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Besides, I knew I'd been right. Dante Moriarty was a very unhappy man who used sarcasm and substances to hide it. I