Succubus Dreams Page 0,79

worthless, but he'd clearly exerted some sort of effort in making it.

"You're right," I said. "I'm sorry. Thank you. Thank you for this."

His eyebrows rose, and I could actually see the self-control it took for him not to mock my sincerity. He nodded. "You're welcome." We each waited for the other to speak. I don't think we knew what to do without the sarcasm. "So...did you find your angel friends?"

"No. I apparently need a fucking Bat Signal or something. Jerome's gone too. Hugh - this imp friend of mine - could get a hold of him, but it'd probably piss Jerome off if we were wrong about all this." I scowled, recalling the conversation in the deli. "Anyway, Hugh's pissing me off right now, so I don't even know if I want his help."

Dante smiled. "I thought succubi were supposed to make friends everywhere they went. Or is that a myth like the bat wings and flame eyes?"

"He's just being an asshole about Seth."

Dante looked at me expectantly. I sighed.

"He thinks us dating is a waste of time. And not because of the sex thing. He thinks I'm going to get hurt."

"Terribly altruistic of an imp. But then, considering your quasi-morals, I'm starting to think it's a bad idea to assume anything about you guys." He took a few steps toward me and playfully tapped my nose. "And what about you? Do you think you're going to get hurt?"

"No. And if I do, that's for me to deal with. Hugh shouldn't be worrying about it. And he shouldn't make Seth worry about it either!"

"Don't get so upset about people worrying about you. It means they care. If enough of us were like that, there'd be a lot less pain in the world."

That was an unexpected observation from Dante. "Maybe. But there'd also be a lot less unnecessary stress."

He chuckled and caught hold of my hand. Flipping it over, he looked at the palm. "A random assortment of lines for this body?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Can you change it to your original?"

"What, so you can read it? I thought this was a bunch of bullshit."

"Sometimes."

I waited for more, but it didn't come. His gray eyes were serious and thoughtful as they met mine. Something in them compelled me, and with great reluctance, I shape-shifted my hands back to the ones I'd been born with. I hadn't worn my original body since the day I'd become a succubus, and this small change felt unnatural. I hated this form. While my original hands weren't gargantuan, they were larger than was proportional to this petite frame I carried and appeared weird and mismatched.

Dante held my hands in his and glanced back and forth between the palms. After just a few seconds, he snorted and dropped them both. "Surprise, surprise."

I shape-shifted them back to the way they had been. "What?" I asked.

"Right-handed?"

"Yeah."

He pointed to the left hand. "Those lines represent what you're born with - your inherent traits. The right hand is the hand that shows how you grow and change and adapt to what you're born with. Nature and nurture."

"So?"

"Yours are identical on both hands. Your heart line is high on the palm - which means you have an intense, passionate nature. No surprise there. But it's broken into a million pieces. Sliced and diced." He tapped my left hand. "You were destined for heartache." He tapped my right hand. "And you are going to repeat that pattern forever. You aren't learning. You aren't changing."

"If I'm destined for it, then what does learning or changing have to do with anything? Isn't it a done deal?" I didn't like the censuring tone in his voice, like I'd done something wrong by having these palms.

"Don't start," he said. "I'm not a philosopher and don't want to get into any pre-destination or free-will debates. Besides, palm reading is a bunch of bullshit."

"Yeah," I said dryly. "So I hear."

To my surprise, Dante put his arm around me and drew me close in a sort of half-hug. "Be careful, succubus. You've got a mess o' dangerous things in your life right now. On all fronts. I don't want to see you get hurt either."

I stayed in the embrace and rested my head on his chest. "When did you get so nice? Are you still trying to get me into bed?"

"I'm always trying to get you into bed." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, to my nose, and then to my lips. "But I kind of like you too. Just